Chapter 378: Why Not Use My Skills?

Ding!

Damn!… before I even had the chance to taste the lovely anus of my loyal archer, I heard the familiar sound. A notification. From the game system this time.

The male archers I had sent scouting had returned results—two points of interest discovered just a few hundred meters south of camp. A mine… and a farm.

"Nice," I muttered, wiping my lips clean of her scent. I rushed out of the command tent, but not before pointing at the bed and snapping my order.

"You—wait there. Spread yourself on the sheets. I'll deal with you properly once I return."

The female archer obeyed without hesitation, sinking onto the cot like a doll placed back on a shelf. Her blank eyes followed me only until I was out, awaiting my return.

Outside, the camp stirred under torchlight. Soldiers shifted restlessly, the glow of oil lamps spilling across spears and shields stacked in neat rows. I spotted one of the spearmen, his back straight but his eyes darting nervously in the shadows.

"You there!" I barked, my voice cracking through the air like a whip. He jumped, scrambling to attention.

"Yes, general!" he shouted, chest puffed up.

"We've got resources waiting south. A mine and a farm." I paced in front of him, hands clasped behind my back like a general. "Take three more with you and go and capture them."

"At once!" The soldier saluted sharply.

The spearman set into motion, gathering his comrades with efficient precision. No hesitation. No stuttering. Just pure, utter obedience, like puppets marching on strings. I stood there, grinning with satisfaction, watching them as they ventured into the night to carry out my commands.

Capturing these nodes would give me 20 more points per minute. And with the 50 points generated by the command tent, I could start summoning more soldiers.

"Hmm... scouting for more nodes is the key early on," I muttered to myself, opening the map, checking on the male archers' progress in revealing the map for me.

It was slow, too damn slow, but it was inevitable. The map was bigger than I thought it would be, and the fact that it was a dark forest made the process of revealing more of the map tenfold slower.

"Should I call more archers for scouting?" I asked myself, raising my index finger to my lips. But then the monkey in my brain managed to come up with an idea.

A horny one, of course.

"If I want more scouts, I could make them." A sly smile played across my lips, "I have the best race for this kind of map."

Swiftly, I retreated back to the command tent.

The female archer reacted to my presence immediately, attempting to take on the same position as before; however, she froze in shock before she could even move a muscle. Her eyes locked onto the strange phenomenon unraveling before her.

Me—her general, her goddess—who only moments ago wore the familiar mask of human flesh… was changing.

It began in my spine. A sharp crack echoed through the tent as my back split, plates of crimson chitin forcing their way through pale skin. My arms stretched, splitting into four, then six, each ending with hooked fingers. From my hips, a pair of segmented legs erupted, stabbing into the wooden floor with a metallic thud. Then another pair. And another. Until I loomed above her, eight limbs shifting in perfect predatory rhythm.

My human face twisted, splitting at the cheeks, mandibles sliding free in place of lips. My eyes multiplied, two… four… six, glowing with faint crimson fire as I abandoned my human form and embraced the form of the Arachne.

Her lips parted in a silent scream, yet no sound came. Her glazed eyes tried to hold onto obedience, but instinct screamed louder—fear. Primal, animal fear. She shook like a rabbit cornered by a wolf, unable to process that her general, her master, had become this lovely abomination before her.

I raised one of my new limbs, the hooked claw tracing the line of her throat, and laughed.

"Sorry to surprise you," I spoke, my human voice overlapping with the eldritch buzzing of the Arachne. "Come, I want you to help me with something."

The archer nodded and stood up, taking a deep breath to calm her frantic heart.

"Now let's put my skill to good use."

A shiver ran down my abdomen. From beneath the armored plates, a swollen organ slithered free—slick, pink, pulsing with alien veins. The ovipositor had awakened, its slick tip dripping, hungry for release.

The archer gasped, her knees trembling as she gazed upon it. Fear warred with devotion, but my will crushed hers in an instant. She dropped to her knees without me needing to speak. Her hands, small and shaking, reached for the swollen length as though it were some sacred relic.

"Good girl," I hissed, mandibles clacking. My abdomen flexed, the ovipositor twitching in her palms, secreting a trail of viscous nectar.

She looked up at me, eyes glazed, waiting for her order.

"Help me," I commanded. My voice was both sultry and monstrous, vibrating through the walls of the tent. "Guide it into me. Tonight, I give birth to my army."

Now, I could have done it myself, but where would be the fun in that? Besides, I wanted new hands to touch my slimy dick.

Her breath hitched. Then, without hesitation, she obeyed. Her trembling fingers guided the pulsing ovipositor, pressing it against the slick lips of my human pussy.

A hiss escaped me as the ovipositor slid inward, stretching me open, thick nectar spilling over her hands. My claws dug grooves into the cot frame, mandibles clacking in delight as the organ buried itself deeper, deeper still, until my human abdomen quivered with a violent pressure.

"Push," I commanded.

She obeyed, shoving until it almost disappeared inside me. The sensation split me apart with exquisite agony, my womb convulsing, hungry for release. The ovipositor pulsed once, twice—then erupted.

A violent spasm ripped through my whole body, the weight within me gushing forth in an endless flood. Slick, sticky, sweet nectar poured from me. A scream ripped from my throat as heat flooded my belly, swelling me grotesquely. My abdomen bulged, skin and chitin stretching as though I carried an ocean within. Then...

Plop. Plop. Plop.

The sound filled the tent as dozens—hundreds—of slick, glistening eggs spilled from me, littering the sheets and floor. The archer froze for a heartbeat, staring in awe as the tide of eggs spread around her knees. Then, as though hypnotized, she reached out and scooped one into her hands. It was warm, soft-shelled, pulsing faintly with the heartbeat of something alive within.

"Beautiful, aren't they?" I rasped, my voice echoing in its dual tones—half human, half Arachne. My mandibles clicked rhythmically as I watched my brood accumulate.

Then, with a mental command, all of them hatched at the same time.

For a heartbeat, silence reigned inside the tent—only the sound of dripping nectar, the faint glow of torchlight trembling across slime-slick shells.

Then—

Crack.

Crack. Crack.

Dozens of fractures spider-webbed across the translucent eggs. A chorus of tiny claws scratched against their prisons. The shells split, tearing open with wet snaps, spilling mucous and steam. From within, my children crawled forth.

Tiny spiderlings—crimson and silver-carapaces, eyes glowing faintly red, each no larger than a clenched fist—skittered across the sheets. They hissed in unison, their voices sharp, needle-thin, like glass breaking inside the skull. Hundreds of them poured free, filling every corner of the tent, covering the floor in a carpet of living hunger.

The archer gasped, pressing both hands to her mouth as the swarm climbed her legs, across her lap, up her arms. Fear widened her eyes, but she did not move. Her loyalty bound her body tighter than chains. She trembled, sweating, even as a dozen spiderlings perched on her shoulders, their mandibles clicking in rhythm with mine.

"Go and scout the forest for me."

The moment I gave my command, my legion of spiders began scurrying out of the tent. I had around a hundred in total, and while I could give birth to more numerous or even stronger ones, I decided not to.

I want to win this challenge with an honorable duel with the god Mars, 1vs1, human army vs human army. Moreover, there was also the chance that I'd lose the game because I was using non-human troops, which was against the rule Mars made, and since I have no idea if my spiders would count as separate troops or a part of me, it was better to play it safe and not overdo it.

However, that doesn't mean that I won't take advantage of my skills.

"!!!" The archer blinked and found my giant half-human, half-spider gone, and in its place another version of me. But this was a little special.

It didn't come from my 'Breeder's form' but from my divine concept.

Blood.

Wings. Great, leathery bat wings unfurled from my back with a snap, pale as my skin stretched to scrape against the walls of the tent. Each flap stirred the air heavy with nectar and the love musk.

"Kneel," I commanded, my predatory smile revealing two white fangs as I watched my loyal archer fall to her knees at the sight.

Since this map was a dark forest, a place with no sunlight, why not try some Vampiric units?

"Drink," I extended my bloody wrist. "Drink and be reborn as a daughter of night."

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