Our Family Has Fallen-Chapter 550 - 340: On the Collector’s Breeding Plan_2

But it's just a head now... Why do I feel like a head is alive... Have I gone mad too?

Lance didn't think he was affected, which could only mean this thing wasn't so simple.

Initially, Lance had merely untied the bag. Now, to uncover the truth, he had to suppress his disgust and take the head out completely.

Indeed, attached beneath the neck was the spinal column, looking as if it had been brutally ripped out, still bearing bloody traces.

This was the Collector's standard procedure, evident from their other specimens.

But Lance's attention wasn't on this. He quickly noticed something peculiar: a black, egg-shaped object, roughly the size of a chicken egg, was parasitically attached to the junction of the neck and the base of the skull. It had bored deep into the back of the brain and exuded a bizarre aura.

This object was undoubtedly the source of the life force he sensed.

This is actually the Collector's method of reproduction!

Upon seeing this, Lance understood everything. He had killed Collectors before and knew their core was a tentacle monster.

Their method of reproduction, or perhaps population expansion, likely involved finding a sufficiently powerful specimen, implanting an egg on it, and waiting for it to hatch and mature, thereby gaining complete control over the specimen.

This ancient stone box was undoubtedly an "incubation chamber." The fragmented crystals inside were collected Spiritual Crystals. They were likely placed there to create an optimal environment rich in Spiritual Essence, intended to accelerate hatching or otherwise benefit the egg's growth.

Once he figured this out, Lance began to ponder: could he artificially breed Collectors?

This idea, once it surfaced, grew uncontrollably. It was a pragmatic line of thought, reminiscent of a certain great nation in the East: if wild supply couldn't meet market demand, then turn to cultivation.

Truth be told, it was a possibility worth exploring.

However, the Old Ancestor was watching him like a tiger, and this project would undoubtedly be difficult, so it had to be shelved for the time being.

Lance removed all the Spiritual Crystals from the box. He then placed the head back inside and locked it. Without the crystals' energy supply, the parasite would likely enter a long slumber until he decided to reactivate the project and awaken it.

The sample was handed to Paracelsus. The inspection of the Beast Lair was complete, as was the examination of the Collector's donations. Now, Lance could finally relax and get a good night's sleep.

He collapsed onto the bed, determined not to be disturbed. He was exhausted... utterly drained.

...

"Damn it, they're over there! Charge!"

A warrior from one of the Barbarian Tribes seemed to spot an enemy hidden in the dense forest. He pointed, and the white wolf beside him, displaying perfect coordination, immediately charged in that direction. Its bared, sharp fangs suggested it intended to give the enemy a savagely unforgettable experience.

But the white wolf had only dashed a few steps when the TWANG of a bowstring sounded. An arrow flew from the side, away from the indicated enemy position. Before the wolf could react, the arrow plunged deep into its body.

The white wolf, which had been sprinting excitedly, lost control of its momentum and tumbled to the ground. It thrashed in agony, letting out pitiful howls, but could not stop the profuse bleeding.

It's a known fact in archery hunting that experienced hunters aiming for a quick kill on a wild beast don't target the head.

An arrow striking the head without sufficient force can easily be deflected, making it difficult to inflict a fatal wound.

Shooting other body parts often fails to inflict enough damage to quickly disable the beast, and a wounded beast is the most dangerous.

Only shots to the lungs or heart guarantee significant results. A lung wound causes internal bleeding and suffocation, while a heart wound leads to massive blood loss, directly affecting blood supply to the brain.

Out of these two targets, hitting the heart is definitely more difficult than hitting the lungs due to the difference in target size.

The arrow just now had cunningly passed under the white wolf's foreleg, piercing its heart—a display of incredible precision.

The Fang Tribe warrior, seeing his long-time companion, the white wolf, felled by a single arrow, felt a surge of fear before rage.

More than one enemy? Looking towards the dense forest, it felt like enemies were everywhere.

And amidst this fear, a sense of impotent rage began to well up.

"Come out! You disgrace of the Mountains, cowards! Show yourselves!" the Fang Tribe warrior shouted. But before he could finish, an arrow suddenly whistled towards him.

But he was a seasoned warrior. Now on guard, he swatted away the first arrow with his spear and rolled to dodge a second. However, it wasn't just one or two arrows; it was a rapid stream of them.

He could block one arrow and dodge the second, but he couldn't avoid the third.

In an instant, he was cornered.

PFFT! An arrow pierced his flesh, its fletching still quivering.

His tribe's secret technique temporarily numbed the pain. Ignoring the arrow embedded in his body, he charged into the dense forest.

He had just used his own body as bait to finally locate the enemy.

The warriors of the Fang Tribe never feared death; death should fear them!

As a warrior with extensive combat experience, he knew how to dodge arrows from hidden archers. His movements were erratic as he rapidly closed the distance.

The Archer seemed to realize their position had been compromised but didn't move. Instead, they nocked an arrow, drew their bow, and calmly aimed at the swiftly approaching foe.

A fast-moving, erratically patterned target is very difficult to hit, even for elite, seasoned Shooters.

A moment's hesitation from the Archer, and the distance between them shrank further.

Ten steps!

Suddenly, as if sensing something, the Fang Tribe warrior snapped his head up. A black streak of lightning flashed across the sky. It was so fast that before he could react, it struck his face, then instantly veered away.

A deep, bone-exposing gash was torn across the Fang Tribe warrior's face. One of his eyes was gone, leaving a bloody, empty socket.

The black streak of lightning perched on a nearby tree. It was a Hawk, its talons bloodstained. Its sharp beak held an eyeball, which it swallowed in one gulp.

The Fang Tribe warrior halted, a sudden realization dawning on him. This was his last chance. There were no cries of pain, no howls of agony—only silence as he mustered his final ounce of strength to hurl his spear.

Almost simultaneously, the Archer loosed their arrow. Spear and arrow crossed paths in mid-air, missing each other by a hair's breadth, then continued towards their respective targets.

In that moment, the intense confrontation abruptly ended, leaving only silence on the battlefield.

Soon, a rustling came from the dense forest. An Eagle Flock member in a dark green robe glanced at the spear that had pinned their robe to the ground.

If not for the Hawk's timely interference, that spear would have easily pierced their body.

Looking out, the member saw the Fang Tribe warrior lying dead, an arrow embedded in his face, fired just after he had thrown his spear.

To hit the enemy in the head during that momentary distraction demonstrated terrifying precision.

He's finally dead. These guys are truly tenacious...

The Eagle Flock member looked up at the Hawk. The face hidden beneath the hood was then slightly revealed—surprisingly, it was a woman's, though she was not strikingly beautiful, merely ordinary.

Hearing the woman emit a series of complex whistles, the Hawk soared into the sky, circling overhead.

Shortly after she gave the signal, the sub-leader of the Eagle Flock, wearing a white bird-bone mask, gathered with other members.

Looking at the corpse on the ground, it was clear they had found the Fang Tribe's trail.

"Good. This was a sentry. They only post sentries when they've stopped to rest," the sub-leader remarked in a shrill, unnatural tone, abruptly turning his head to look at the woman.

"Did he manage to send out any information?"

The woman noted that when the sub-leader turned his head, his body remained unnervingly still while his head swiveled to an unnatural degree. The look in his eyes was also peculiar.

She said nothing, instead raising her hand and pointing to the white wolf's carcass on the other side.

"They're all accounted for. I detected no other enemies in the vicinity before I engaged."

"Hmph! We've got them..."