Chapter 321: Good Luck

A cool, sticky sensation on his face jolted Jie Ming back to awareness.

He instinctively reached out and touched it—his palm held a fist-sized fragment, still faintly wriggling, semi-transparent and gel-like, with chaotic gleams flowing within.

Staring at this substance resembling a high-grade slime, Jie Ming’s heart raced uncontrollably.

His mind instantly blazed with a single scorching thought—Nest!

His forward-thinking comprehensive cannon fodder unit “Nest,” limited by materials and technology, never achieving ideal performance!

If he could thoroughly research the Mycelord’s near-perfect mechanisms of biological aggregation, evolution, adaptive defense, and regeneration—and transplant its essence into the “Nest”…

Wouldn’t his ultimate creation truly escape its current middling awkwardness, becoming a terrifying war machine capable of self-evolution and infinite proliferation?!

The idea had sprouted like weeds upon hearing Mycelord intelligence earlier, but then it was mere unattainable fantasy.

Now, Mycelord remnants fell like heaven-sent gifts—right onto his face!

To let this pass would be intolerable!

Not just Jie Ming—nearly every wizard realized these scattering Mycelord fragments were priceless research material.

They excitedly deployed various means—sealing in special containers, binding with energy fields—frantically collecting these level-8 life secret-laden remnants.

The battlefield brimmed with harvest ecstasy.

Yet amid this jubilation, Jie Ming suddenly felt inexplicable palpitations.

An indescribable unease coiled like a cold serpent around his soul.

This feeling… familiar!

Last time: in the airspace plane, when his thoughts were veiled and disrupted by that eerie white mist!

“Something’s wrong… something’s very wrong!” Jie Ming’s vigilance peaked; his gaze swept sharply around.

This time, not necessarily direct mind veiling—but some undetected issue was occurring!

But… where exactly?!

He furrowed his brows, frantically activating his body-tempering method, attempting to adapt and breakthrough the vague interference on his spiritual sense with its innate abilities.

Soul light flickered within; body cells vibrated and adjusted at unprecedented frequency.

But effects were negligible.

Between him and that crucial “spark”—an insurmountable transparent wall.

The answer felt inches away, yet always a hair’s breadth short!

That helplessness—like an ant grasping a giant’s thoughts.

He even forgot to store the tempting Mycelord fragment in internal space, standing rigidly frowning—stark contrast to colleagues feverishly gathering spoils.

High above, Dixon and Oboros carefully verified the Mycelord’s core consciousness fully annihilated by the ship-plane main cannon, finally exhaling in relief.

“The three great world lords slain; Triangular Plane Cluster’s resistance core uprooted.” Oboros’s voice carried post-campaign relaxation. “Next: cleanup—receive Giant Spirit Realm and Mind Realm remnant populations, systematically recover their knowledge bases…”

Dixon listened while casually storing several larger, stronger-reacting Mycelord samples in his spatial artifact.

Mind received Melist’s request for high-quality Mycelord samples for research; both naturally agreed.

He subconsciously looked down, overlooking wizards below jubilant over victory and bountiful gains, a comforted smile tugging his lips.

War casualties pained, but knowledge gains and civilization victory healed wounds.

Yet as his gaze swept the crowd, he “unintentionally” noticed the incongruous figure—Jie Ming.

That face—confusion, vigilance, struggle contrasting others’ joy—instantly sparked Dixon’s fate-series wizard instinctive curiosity.

“Hm? This little guy…”

Normally, fate wizards avoided casually probing destinies.

But this time, almost subconsciously, he mobilized fate power.

An invisible fate thread quietly extended toward Jie Ming, seeking what made this standout young apprentice so abnormal.

The instant he switched to fate perception…

Dixon’s smile froze, replaced by near-horrified pallor!

He clearly “saw” his own fate trajectory values plummeting like an avalanche!

Not just breaching safe baselines—unstoppably crashing past “positive” into “negative” abyss of misfortune and death!

No! Not just himself!

Dixon rapidly expanded perception—wizard legion below, Oboros beside, even Melist in the ship-plane!

All wizards, including the three level-7s—their victory-elevated fate lines synchronously plummeted, shrouded by invisible terrifying shadow!

“Something’s wrong! We’ve been played!” Dixon instantly realized.

His earlier “unintentional” notice of Jie Ming and rising curiosity—far from coincidence.

It was his fate’s final warning before catastrophe!

“What’s happening?!”

Oboros immediately sensed Dixon’s drastic change and chaotic terrifying aura, shadow-condensed body entering peak combat stance.

“Alert! Highest alert!!” Dixon nearly roared.

No time for explanations; intense crisis screamed in every cell.

Absolute trust in fate-series wizard abilities—Melist and Oboros acted without hesitation!

Melist instantly maxed ship-plane defensive arrays; reconnaissance systems scanned Triangular Plane Cluster corners and surrounding chaotic void at unprecedented intensity—repeatedly!

Oboros’s vast perception flooded like mercury into remnant Giant Spirit Realm and Mind Realm, missing no anomalous energy or life signs.

Nothing!

Scans showed only wizards themselves and collapsing native remnants—this void… empty!

Yet this “empty” result sank Melist and Oboros’s hearts.

They knew high-tier fate wizards too well—dangers they couldn’t detect often exceeded current cognition and countermeasures!

Melist unhesitatingly smashed the blood-red highest-emergency button on the console.

A hyperspace distress signal—bearing Triangular Plane Cluster coordinates and highest crisis code—shot across endless void.

But… higher-tier aid, even by higher wizards’ means, required time!

Dixon endured plummeting fate’s dizziness, frantically reviewing trajectories for the crisis source.

Suddenly, he noticed an overlooked detail.

Why… were Giant Spirit Realm and Mind Realm remnant natives’ fate values… zero?!

Living beings’ fates, even planes’—could be positive (prosperity) or negative (decline).

But absolutely, absolutely never zero!

Zero meant “nothing.”

Meant no fate trajectory…

Only lifeless dead matter fit!

A jolt—like ice water—snapped Dixon awake!

His earlier thoughts… very wrong!

Why subconsciously think “receive remnant populations”?

This was a highest-level “extermination” mission!

Goal: physically and soul-level erase all Triangular Plane Cluster threats—except valuable knowledge/tech, all life on purge list, no captives!

Something… silently influencing their thoughts!

Twisting judgments!

Even he, level-7 fate wizard, nearly fell!

Seeing below still oblivious wizards with plummeting fates, and colleagues’ grave gazes, decisiveness flashed in Dixon’s eyes.

No hesitation—he mobilized all “luck” accumulated over eons, burning it fully into his precarious fate trajectory!

Buzz——!

The area’s fates violently shook.

Dixon’s values forcibly peaked at unimaginable, near-reason-defying heights.

Under this brief “heaven-mandated” fortune, he relaxed partial body control, surrendering to the moment’s “coincidence” and “inevitability.”

Under myriad coincidences, his throat vibrated uncontrollably, vocal cords trembling at odd frequency.

Mouth opening/closing, laboriously uttering five blurred syllables:

“D…rop… the… lo…ot…”

The instant words fell, forcibly elevated fate crashed like burned-out firewood—even backlash spurting golden blood.

But he ignored, roaring with full strength, voice shaking wilds:

“All! Immediately discard all spoils! Discard every spoil from this war!!”

Oboros and Melist, though bewildered, trusted Dixon—acted without doubt.

Mandatory order instantly reached every wizard’s mind via magic network, absolute priority.

Simultaneously, the two level-7 wizards frantically emptied spatial equipment—tossing Korg metal remnants, Sylas mental core fragments, and most critically—Mycelord tissue samples—outward!

Wizard legion erupted in uproar; many stared at precious spoils with reluctance and confusion.

But under mandatory order’s absolute effect, they gritted teeth and complied.

Discarding collected materials, even enemy gear seized in battle—like hot potatoes.

Hearing the order, Jie Ming’s taut string instantly relaxed.

Though still unclear on crisis specifics, intuition screamed: correct action!

He unhesitatingly tossed the Mycelord fragment, then emptied internal space of all spoils.

Even more thoroughly—auxiliary devices once using this plane’s energy crystals as power—removed and discarded without regret!

Momentarily, the battlefield rained an alternate “wealth shower”—countless precious materials, equipment painfully abandoned by wizards, piling into mountains.