The silence that followed the Lion's Roar was heavy. It wasn't the peaceful silence of an empty room; it was the tense, vibrating silence of a battlefield during a ceasefire.
Ji Han remained on his knees for a long time, listening. The scratching had stopped. The psychic pressure had vanished. The enemy had retreated, licking its wounds—or perhaps nursing its ruptured eardrums.
"Clear," Ji Han whispered, his voice a ruined rasp.
He turned to Lin Qinghe. The former Empress was slumped against the soot-stained wall, her eyes closed, her breathing shallow. A trickle of dried blood ran from her nose to her chin. Using her Imperial Will—a remnant of her past glory—had drained her completely.
Ji Han moved to her side. He checked her pulse. It was weak, fluttering like a trapped bird.
"You held the line," Ji Han murmured. "My turn."
He picked her up. She was frighteningly light. The months of rationing and the cold had taken their toll, despite the spirit meat. He carried her up the spiral ramp to the fire pit, where the green flames of the burning beetle shells offered the only warmth in the world.
He laid her on the bed of dried grass and furs. He couldn't heal her spirit, but he could fuel her body.
"Resource check," Ji Han muttered, forcing himself into logistics mode to stave off the exhaustion.
He walked back down to the "kill zone" at the door.
The carcass of the Heavy-Shell Isopod he had crushed earlier lay there, a broken tank of meat and armor. Nearby lay the headless body of the Acid-Spitter, its glowing green sac deflated and neutralized by the centipede powder.
"Loot," Ji Han said.
He dragged the Isopod up the ramp. It weighed as much as a motorcycle. He heaved it next to the fire.
He took his War Pick. He used the digging spike to pry open the shattered back plates.
The meat inside was different from the centipede or the beetles. It wasn't white or blue. It was dark grey, dense, and smelled faintly of metal.
"Iron meat," Ji Han guessed.
He sliced a chunk off. It was hard, resisting the knife. He skewered it and held it over the green flames.
It didn't sizzle. It didn't drip fat. It just darkened, absorbing the heat.
After twenty minutes, Ji Han deemed it cooked. He bit into it.
CRUNCH.
It was like chewing on a rubber tire mixed with gravel. It was tough, fibrous, and tasteless. But as he swallowed, a heavy sensation settled in his stomach. It didn't feel like energy rushing through his veins; it felt like mortar setting in his bones.
[System Notification: Consumed Heavy-Shell Isopod Meat.] [Attribute: Earth/Metal.] [Effect: Bone Density +0.5. Skin Toughness +0.5.] [Warning: Digestion requires high constitution.]
Ji Han grimaced, rubbing his chest as the heavy meat hit his gut. It felt like he had swallowed a brick. But he could feel his skin tightening, becoming more leathery.
"It's armor," Ji Han realized. "You eat what you kill. You become what you eat."
He cut a smaller, finer slice. He minced it into tiny cubes, trying to make it digestible for an invalid. He boiled it in a cup of melted snow water, making a grey, metallic broth.
He returned to Lin Qinghe.
"Drink," he whispered, lifting her head.
She woke groggily. She smelled the broth and frowned.
"It smells like... rust," she whispered.
"It's Isopod stew," Ji Han said. "It will make you heavy. You need an anchor."
She sipped it. She grimaced, but she drank. The heavy Earth Qi settled her trembling limbs. The golden light in her eyes, which had dimmed to a flicker, stabilized.
"The Hive Mind..." she said softly, pushing the cup away. "It is not dead. Just stunned. You broke its connection to the drones."
"I yelled at it," Ji Han said, sitting back. "I didn't know I could do that."
"You channeled your Spirit," she explained. "Most cultivators use Qi to strengthen their bodies. Few understand that Spirit is also a muscle. When you roared, you projected your intent outward. It was a crude, barbaric mental attack."
"It worked."
"It worked because they were linked," she corrected. "You shouted down a telephone line and deafened the operator. But they will adapt. The Hive Mind is intelligent. It will realize that we are not just prey. We are a rival predator."
Ji Han looked at the sealed door.
"Let them come," Ji Han said, tapping his chest where the Isopod meat was hardening his ribs. "I'm getting tougher. I'm getting stronger. And thanks to them, I have infinite fuel."
He looked at the pile of Isopod armor plates he had stripped.
"And now," Ji Han said, "I have raw materials for armor. I'm tired of wearing rags."
He stood up and walked to his "Smithy" corner. He picked up a chest-plate sized segment of the Isopod shell. He picked up a cold Black Iron hammer.
"Rest, Empress," Ji Han said, the rhythmic clack-thud of cold forging filling the tunnel. "The Night is long, and I need a new vest."