I Arrived At Wizard World While Cultivating Immortality Chapter 684: Tentacle Tree

Deep within the boundless, chaotic emptiness, over a thousand warships traversed the elemental tempests in silence, resembling a shoal of silvery-gray abyssal fish navigating the void. Within the command chamber of the flagship “Deep Root,” a warm, golden luminescence emanated from the walls, casting the entire space in colors reminiscent of a dusky woodland.

At the heart of this chamber, a holographic star map, spanning dozens of meters, floated suspended in the air. Hundreds of tentacles, varying in thickness, meticulously manipulated the dense array of control nodes encircling the projection’s perimeter.

These appendages belonged to the dominant species of this formidable fleet.

Their forms were akin to trees violently dislodged from the earth by an immense force. Slender trunks, adorned with a dark brown, bark-like texture, allowed a faint, pulsating pale green light to peek through fissures—the lifeblood of circulating nutrients within their bodies.

Crowning each arboreal form was a dense cluster of organs resembling branches and leaves. These extensions possessed a vine-like flexibility, appearing more like prehensile tentacles at first glance, capable of independent and fluid motion.

Each entity bore anywhere from a dozen to over a hundred such tentacles, all diligently engaged in their assigned duties.

A ring of sensory organs was arrayed at the juncture where the branches met the trunk: eight crystalline lenses, each roughly the size of a soybean, were embedded uniformly beneath the bark, emitting a subtle golden radiance.

This species lacked olfactory or vocal apparatus but exhibited extreme sensitivity to diverse vibrations.

The fleet’s ultimate commander stood anchored directly beneath the star map.

His physique was a full section taller than that of his brethren. The canopy of his being hosted over two hundred tentacles, each tipped with a seasoned, silver-gray hue.

This coloration was a testament to countless endured tempests, a visible chronicle of survival through manifold perilous decisions.

Currently, his eight crystalline eyes were fixed with unwavering intensity upon the sulfur-hued target world illuminated on the star map. His pale golden pupils held a gleam of keen assessment.

“Still no signal from the deep scan?” he conveyed through a query, tapping out his message.

“None, Your Excellency,” responded the operator overseeing the detection systems, their multitude of tentacles fluidly adjusting the control nodes. “No echoes of a protective shield were detected across any active scanning band. The electromagnetic spectrum within the target zone registered only ambient environmental noise. Not even a singular, low-grade artificial satellite was detected. It appears this world remains utterly quiescent.”

One of the commander’s tentacles slowly coiled, hovered momentarily in the air, then abruptly unspooled.

Amongst his kind, this gesture conveyed a sentiment akin to a human raising an eyebrow—an expression of surprise mingled with a hint of pleased discovery.

“To stumble upon such a prize on our inaugural expedition?” Another tentacle-bearing entity positioned beside him tapped its trunk, its crystalline eyes betraying barely restrained excitement. “Could we possibly be this fortunate?”

“It is not fortune, but rather an inevitability,” the commander countered. His tentacles swept across the star map, magnifying the details of the sulfurous planetoid. “Civilizations adrift in the void are inherently isolated. The very fact that we encountered one on our maiden voyage suggests that the density of civilizations within this particular sector of the void exceeds established theoretical projections. Make a record of this—it holds profound guiding significance for future navigational planning.”

“Acknowledged.” The adjutant’s tentacles moved with practiced speed, committing the record to the central database. “However, judging by the detection data, this world’s civilizational advancement does not appear particularly advanced. There are no orbital defense installations, no energy shields, not even rudimentary spatial detection grids are deployed. From these observations, it seems this world’s civilization is likely still embroiled in internal conflicts confined to its planetary surface.”

The commander remained in contemplative silence for several moments, allowing all eight of his crystalline eyes to focus as one upon the image of the target world.

The planet’s surface was a mosaic of expansive, sulfurous wastelands interspersed with darker regions of varying shades. Faint outlines of structured settlements were discernible amidst the rugged terrain.

Evidence of sophisticated activity was present, yet the scale was modest and the distribution notably sparse.

Crucially, many of the outlined structures appeared to lack discernible practical functions, resembling more closely archaic constructs employed in ritualistic practices.

“One must never underestimate an adversary,” the commander finally conveyed his directive through rhythmic taps. His tentacle movements moderated, adopting a more deliberate pace yet retaining their inherent composure. “Even a world perceived as primitive possesses intrinsic value. Untamed indigenous lifeforms, untapped natural resources, a planetary system unencumbered by external surveillance… What designation does the compendium of civilization classifications assign to such a target?”

“Primitive level. Suitable for conquest,” the operator responded instantly, the tips of his appendages quivering slightly with anticipation. “Your Excellency, I have completed a preliminary assessment of this world. The atmospheric concentration of oxygen is exceedingly high. Direct respiration is impossible for us, but face masks will be an adequate solution. Numerous energy reaction points are present, suggesting the existence of intelligent inhabitants in cities.”

“The sole drawback is that a significant portion of this planet’s surface exhibits extreme temperatures, rendering it uninhabitable. Nevertheless, the remaining habitable area is still substantial. Should we successfully secure and integrate it into our burgeoning colony, the esteemed members of the Court Council might immortalize your name within the Main Trunk Hall.”

The commander's crown swayed with a gentle rhythm, and his tentacles emitted soft, rhythmic tapping sounds.

This was their species' unique expression of quiet amusement.

“Initiate preparations for low orbit insertion. All warships are to enter secondary combat readiness,” he commanded, extending his most elongated tentacles towards the apex of the star map. He magnified the image of the target world to its maximum conceivable size. “We must establish dominance before the indigenous population can mount a coordinated defense. Adhere strictly to the established protocol: neutralize all extant defensive installations first, followed by the deployment of ground assault troops. Eliminate any form of resistance encountered on sight. Non-combatants are to be apprehended initially and categorized for subsequent processing.”

The directives were disseminated with remarkable celerity throughout the entire fleet.

The formation, comprising over a thousand warships, commenced an orderly repositioning. Three primary, sixth-level vessels converged from the flanks towards the central axis, while the auxiliary ships dispersed, forming an encirclement along pre-assigned orbital paths. Every maneuver was executed with flawless precision.

Despite this being the fleet’s inaugural expeditionary mission, extensive training and simulated drills had deeply ingrained the standard operational procedures into the very reflexes of every crew member.

“Report on shield status?”

“Joint shields are synchronized. Attenuation coefficients are within acceptable parameters. Fleet cluster resonance remains stable.”

“Charge status of main cannons?”

“Primary cannons on all main ships have completed their pre-charge cycles and are on standby.”

The commander conveyed his approval through a nod, clearly pleased with the promptness of his subordinates' responses.

His gaze returned to the world, its surface a hue of sulfur yellow, its progressively enlarging silhouette reflected in the entirety of his eight crystalline eyes.

What a striking coloration, he mused internally.

Upon its successful annexation, documenting the local scenery and transmitting the data to the Court Council on the homeworld might persuade those venerable elders to allocate him additional resources for future expeditions.

“Your Excellency!” A series of rapid, insistent tapping sounds abruptly disrupted the serene pre-engagement atmosphere. “Unidentified objects detected in the forward vector. Their numbers are escalating rapidly, and they are converging upon us from within the target world!”

The commander’s crystalline eyes vibrated intensely. Multiple tentacles swiftly danced across the star map, expanding the visual representation of the unidentified objects to dominate the entire display. The transmitted footage revealed a cohort of obsidian-dark figures surging forth from the atmosphere of the sulfur-hued planet.

Trailing elongated, dark plumes, they disregarded the transitional zone separating the atmosphere from the vacuum of space, launching directly into the void.

“Adjust optical sensors to high-precision capture mode,” the commander commanded.

The image instantaneously magnified.

The distinct features of the dark entities became discernible: a multitude of colossal, ape-like beings, uniformly jet black.

A vertical chasm bisected the chest of each creature, exposing rows of sharp, obsidian-like teeth within.

Elemental energies, turbulent and unrestrained, coursed through the void, impacting their forms. Ripples emanated across the matte liquid-metal coating their bodies, yet their trajectory remained utterly unperturbed.

Certain individuals propelled themselves forward, blazing a path and collectively projecting an energy barrier to deflect the elemental surges, allowing those trailing behind to advance in close formation.

The commander performed a swift enumeration—there were approximately forty of them.

“Is that all?” The operator’s tentacles momentarily ceased their movement, his crystalline eyes reflecting sheer bewilderment. “And these beings possess no spacecraft? They are assaulting the void with nothing but their own bodies?”

The commander remained silent.

His tentacles slowly coiled around the periphery of the star map, seemingly engrossed in contemplation.

A moment later, his crown bobbed gently.

“Ah, I comprehend now,” he conveyed through a low-frequency vibration. “It appears this planet is not entirely devoid of civilization after all. It is simply a society that has pursued the path of individual enhancement rather than technological advancement. Their belief system likely posits that their physical forms alone are sufficient to confront warships.”

“A rather rudimentary philosophy,” the adjutant concurred, emitting a series of light, mocking taps. “However, such a civilization presents favorable prospects for us. Beings possessing exceptional individual strength typically exhibit diminished intellectual capacity, making them more amenable to subjugation and assimilation. Once we secure this world, these gargantuan ebony simians can be repurposed as bio-engineered weapons to augment our ground assault divisions.”

The commander offered no further comment.

His crystalline eyes remained fixed on the approaching black figures in the image, sensing that something was amiss.

These creatures displayed a high degree of uniformity in appearance, and their movements were coordinated with excessive precision.

The cooperation between those holding up the energy barrier in front and those preparing to strike from behind required no communication at all. It was even smoother than the coordination of their own trained fleet.

They did not seem like wild primitive beings, but rather well-trained legion soldiers.

The thought flashed through his mind for only an instant.

Even if they were soldiers, so what? Their numbers were simply too few. He had a thousand warships on his side.

“Forward interceptors, engage. Probe with thirty percent firepower,” he issued the concise order, his tentacle movements regaining decisiveness. “Do not prolong the fight. The main goal is to collect data.”

At the periphery of the Infernal Sulfur plane, the black giant team leader stabilized his stance in the void. Behind him, forty-odd black giants from the same batch spread out in a loose formation.

These probe black giants were not high in rank. Most hovered around fourth level, with only the leading few having reached fifth level.

“Target parameters confirmed. Enemy fleet total: nine hundred and eighty-three vessels. Three main ships possess independent sixth-level energy signatures. Auxiliary fleet maintains joint shield through cluster resonance. Overall formation speed stable. Array is currently deploying.” His chest’s vertical maw opened slightly as he communicated rapidly with his companions using spiritual power.

The deputy beside him tilted his head. “What did the priest say about how to fight?”

“The priest didn’t specify,” the team leader said, his gaze directed toward the fleet ahead that was spreading into a standard combat formation. “He said to act according to the situation. Master wants live captives and their home address. So our mission is to collect sufficient enemy combat data… while trying not to scare them away.”

“So we have to fight like we mean it?” The deputy was clearly quick-witted.

“And fight like wild beasts.”

After saying this, he let out meaningless syllables from his mouth—“Aoo aoo”—and took the lead in charging forward.

Several fifth-level black giants accelerated simultaneously, roaring as they streaked dark trails through the void.