Chapter 1346: Life Is Always a Rollercoaster—Down, Down, Down
The moment Bertram laid eyes on that massive brain, he realized the situation was spiraling far beyond his expectations. But there was no time to dwell on it. A dizzying psychic shockwave swept through the chamber, scrambling the senses of every dark priest present. Then, without warning, the heavily armored, muscle-bound “brain” launched a ferocious assault on everything around it.
Arcane cannons screamed sharply, while swords and spears crackled with electricity and flames as they shot outward. Massive mechanical warhammers whistled through the air, smashing down with brutal force. Wherever they struck—whether wooden limbs or the cavern’s rocky pillars—fragments exploded in every direction. The dark priests scrambled to mount a counterattack, but every time they tried to channel stronger magic, a stabbing pain pierced their minds. Relentless psychic pulses shattered their concentration, interrupting spellcasting again and again. Even Bertram himself could barely maintain a protective shield or summon the simplest vines to disrupt the brain’s onslaught.
Yet, more unsettling than the constant mental interference was the crushing shock to Bertram’s understanding. He watched helplessly as his followers fell back under the relentless assault of that grotesque, muscle-covered brain wielding a horde of heavy weapons. It felt like a nightmare he couldn’t wake from. A single thought echoed relentlessly in his mind: What the hell is that thing?!
“Boom!!”
A thunderous explosion erupted nearby, sending a shockwave that staggered Bertram backward. His mutated, barely human plant-like body throbbed with sharp pain as the blast tore through his wooden exterior and bruised the living tissue beneath. This long-forgotten agony snapped him out of his daze. He shouted orders, voice ringing with urgency: “It’s a trap! Fall back to the tunnel!”
Yes, a trap. He’d known from the start that this place was a deathtrap. But he never imagined the real danger wasn’t the ambush waiting outside—it was the target itself. He had brought enough cannon fodder and advanced cautiously, wiping out every hostile unit in the underground lair. He even sacrificed the root network assigned to him by the High Priest to seal off this “final chamber.” Yet, the strongest force here wasn’t a soldier or a beast—it was a brain.
He had effectively trapped himself and his followers with this terrifying monster.
A howling sound tore through the air. A surge of dread rose in Bertram’s chest. Instinctively, he raised his shield just in time to see the brain swing a massive, broken stalactite with its muscular tentacles, smashing it down toward him. The shield and stone collided violently, magical energy rippling outward, snapping dry branches and leaves. Along with the impact came a powerful psychic blast.
Within that mental shockwave, Bertram heard Beltira’s voice again—layered with several others, as if transmitted through a chain of psychic relays stretching all the way from the Holy Spirit Plains to this very spot, finally emerging from the brutal, powerful brain before him.
“Bertram, I hope you’re enjoying my hospitality.”
“Beltira!!” Bertram’s eyes burned with rage. He watched in horror as one of his followers was knocked unconscious by a boulder hurled by the brain, then dragged into the darkness by vines suddenly sprouting from the cavern walls. Overwhelmed by frustration and a nameless fear, he cursed loudly, “You abomination! You damned freak! What have you created?!”
“That’s rich, coming from you, my kin,” Beltira replied coolly. The brain raised a muscular tentacle, pounding a heavy warhammer against Bertram’s faltering shield. “Don’t always blame your failures on your enemies’ strength. Admit it—you’re just pathetic. You made it this far, and yet I’m still going to crush you.”
Before Bertram could respond, a dull crack shattered his thoughts. His shield shattered into a shower of dissipating light particles. Several thick tentacles wrapped around his wooden “arms” and main branches. In an instant, he felt as if iron arms had seized him, yanking him into the air. His desperate grip on the roots below was mercilessly torn away. Now, face to face with the massive brain, he could clearly see the subtle ripples of living tissue, the grooves and bulges across its surface.
He suddenly wondered if those raised areas were actually well-developed muscles.
“I refuse to accept… this failure…” The dark priest struggled fiercely, trying in vain to summon magic while fighting the invasive will flooding his mind from the brain. “What are you…?”
“Fighting requires brains, Bertram,” Beltira’s voice cut through him with scorn. “You simply lost to my brain.”
All the attacks and insults before paled compared to this. Bertram’s sanity stretched to its breaking point. He glared at the mountain of muscle and nerve before him, at the deadly weapons clutched in its tentacles, at the vast destruction it had wrought. Rage and despair surged through him. “You call this using your brain?!”
“What else?” The floating brain tightened its grip. Bertram felt his branches being stripped away. Beltira’s disdainful voice echoed in his mind, calm and deliberate. “I have an incredibly powerful brain. To prepare for today, these synthetic brains on the front lines do five strength training sets and four hours of combat simulation every day…”
Bertram fell silent. After a few seconds, he gave up and whispered, “…Enough. Just kill me.”
“Don’t be so eager. Your death isn’t worth much. The information stored in your mind is far more valuable. I’ll patiently extract your cognitive core and digest the memories inside. Your followers are already undergoing this process, but I’m sure you know far more secrets than they do…”
Bertram didn’t respond. It was as if he had completely surrendered. Meanwhile, nearly all his followers had been defeated by the brain and dragged into the darkness by the cavern’s creeping vines. Only one dark priest remained, staggering near the cave’s edge. Perhaps his value was too insignificant, or Beltira was focusing all her attention on extracting Bertram’s “core.” Either way, the last priest was left unmolested. Trembling with fear, he cautiously inched toward the cave’s exit, already close to escape.
Bertram’s gaze shifted to that priest. Silently, he sensed every magical fluctuation emitted by the brain imprisoning him. Then, in a fleeting moment, he seized an opportunity.
“Sandoko!” Bertram shouted suddenly, breaking the cavern’s eerie silence. The priest froze mid-step. Instinctively sensing danger, he turned back—years of obedience compelling him to obey. His dark yellow eyes met Bertram’s, whose face was already being torn and dissolved, but whose eyes still blazed with magical light.
“No, High Priest, please—”
The priest’s desperate plea was cut short. A hidden “mark” deep within his soul activated. His consciousness was instantly transferred into a body on the verge of tearing apart, immobilized. His vision flooded with the floating brain before him. Just before his mind slipped into darkness, he saw “his” body sprinting toward the cave’s exit.
In the next instant, the entire underground chamber was filled with Beltira’s cold, furious killing intent.
It surged from behind, chilling the air as if to freeze everything solid. Bertram ran desperately through the dark cavern, ordering every remaining mutant and dark root nearby to intercept the pursuers at all costs. Slowly, the overwhelming terror began to ebb. A flicker of hope returned to his fate.
He knew he had escaped.
The brain’s power was confined to this flower-covered “cavern.” The mutants and spreading roots he’d brought from the wasteland had already crushed the enemies outside. Now, having fled the dreadful brain, he was finally safe.
“Sandoko… I’ll remember your sacrifice,” Bertram muttered, racing toward a fissure leading to the surface. “These things from the Sleeper cult aren’t entirely useless… Damn it, this body’s still too weak. I need to find a way to regain my strength…”
He muttered to himself, partly planning for the future, partly trying to soothe his fear and tension.
At the last moment, he’d used a high-level secret technique he’d stolen during the alliance between the End of All Things and the Sleeper cult—exchanging souls with one of his subordinates. As a cautious man who valued his life, he had long ago implanted “soul-thief marks” deep within each follower’s spirit. He never imagined this trick would save him today.
No matter what, he was alive. Now he had to face the problems that came with survival.
Like another humiliating, disgraceful, infuriating defeat. This time, he’d lost not only all the men the High Priest had assigned him but also a large branch of the root network. He’d lost all his followers—and even his own body.
Worse still, some of his followers had been captured alive.
He still remembered Beltira’s words clearly. Those captured dark priests would soon become sources of mortal intelligence—and that would be his most terrible sin yet.
“I have to figure something out… The High Priest won’t accept this outcome… Blaming the failure on some subordinate? No, that’s too clumsy… Maybe I can fabricate some ‘results’ to offset the defeat? No, that could be seen through… Damn it, that damned madwoman—if it weren’t for her…”
Bertram muttered bitterly. A faint glimmer appeared at the edge of his vision. He lowered his gaze toward his “arms” and saw unfamiliar bark and patterns etched into them. Suddenly, a new idea struck him.
“Wait… I don’t have to face the High Priest’s wrath directly. The fault lies with Bertram. I can be Sandoko… a loyal, obedient, battle-hardened priest who was dragged down by an incompetent superior. Yes, that’s it… I fought desperately to escape, bringing back vital intelligence. Bertram failed, but an ordinary priest who survived a fierce battle shouldn’t bear the High Priest’s anger…”
A false sense of relief washed over him. Bertram felt as if he had already escaped the punishment that hadn’t yet come. On that basis, he began plotting how to restore his strength as quickly as possible and claw his way back to the position of “Priest.” As for “revenge”… he had completely abandoned that unrealistic notion.
That insane “Ancient Saintess”… she was far beyond his ability to handle. Let the other dark prelates deal with her. He wanted to put as much distance as possible between himself and the entire northern front. If he could, he’d request a transfer to the southern front…
At that moment, the light ahead interrupted the dark priest’s wandering thoughts.
The underground passage finally came to an end. He… had returned to the surface.
Dim sunlight spilled from the sky. The breeze flowing across the surface stirred the branches and leaves of Bertram’s new body. He paused, and a belated joy welled up inside him.
“Ah… in the end, I am lucky after all…”
He murmured softly as he stepped out from a cave connecting the surface and the underground. The cold wind brushed against his bark, and he greedily drank in the crisp air and the feeling of freedom and safety.
After a moment, he calmed himself and began to survey his surroundings—after a frantic escape, he desperately needed to know exactly where he was.
Then, to his surprise, he spotted a small hill. Against the faint light of dawn, a strangely styled manor sat atop the hill.
A tall woman pushed open the manor’s door and stepped out. She watched Bertram standing on the plain with quiet curiosity. After a moment, she smiled. Around her, glowing structures resembling rune circles flickered and vanished, as if some restraint had been lifted. Her figure suddenly became blurred, mysterious, and majestic.
She opened her arms with a smile.
In that instant, Bertram saw endless starlight, infinite colors, boundless radiance, and the infinite truths and mysteries of the universe.
Terror and madness filled his eyes.
Every eye that opened along each of his branches was filled with fear and insanity.
[Book recommendation time! A friendly shout-out from “Typing Every Day” to I Kidnapped the Timeline, a sci-fi novel with a very creative concept. Though it’s still short, the future looks promising.]
(End of chapter)