With the defenses arranged, Ben turned his focus to upgrading his Krell. He opened the creation interface, scrolling through the list of body parts he'd harvested from the Ravagers. His gaze swept over the options.
Savage Spines. The glowing, jagged protrusions that ran along the Brute Ravager's back. Ben smirked. 'I don't need this—I already have the hive mind—but that doesn't mean it's useless.'
The Ravagers used them to signal commands, so what if he exploited that? He could mislead enemies, making them think his Krell communicated the same way. A false signal system. Hell, if he could replicate the pattern, maybe he could even create a fake Ravager—send out false orders, throw their entire formation into chaos.
Next is Armored hide, Thick, reinforced chitin plating. Ben's expression hardened. The Brutes had soaked up multiple hits before going down. That kind of durability would be perfect for his Krell Soldiers. But—there was a downside. Weight. 'The heavier the armor, the slower the unit.' This wasn't something he could just slap on every Krell. It would reduce mobility—a massive problem for Scouts and frontline fighters who needed to dodge and quickly move. Ben crossed his arms. 'Maybe a new unit type. One that focused on defense.' Something that could hold the line, withstand the heaviest blows, and buy time for the others.
The next one Serrated Claws Ben clicked his tongue. These weren't just sharp. The edges were jagged, uneven—designed to tear, not just cut. A single wound from these claws would keep bleeding, turning even glancing hits into lethal ones. "Perfect for my Soldiers and Scouts," Ben muttered. Then he paused. 'Wait. This kind of claw structure… would make gripping a bow harder.' If he gave this to the Scouts, it might mess with their archery. There had to be a workaround. Maybe a retractable design? Something that wouldn't interfere with tool use. He noted it down for later.
He than move to the next one Serrated Mandibles. Ben's eyes narrowed. A secondary jaw hidden inside the throat—the Ravagers could shoot them out in close combat, crushing armor and snapping bones. Devastating power. But Ben had seen the flaw Every time a Ravager used it, they left themselves exposed. A strong attack meant nothing if it left you wide open. Ben shook his head. 'Not worth it.'
And finally the best one Adaptive Muscle Ben's grin widened. 'Now this… this was interesting.' The Ravagers that had this moved faster, reacted quicker, adjusted mid-fight. Their bodies adapted on the spot. No real downsides Just more speed, better reflexes, higher survivability.
He than decided to buy more slot from the system but the price have changed
[Would host like to proceed with unlocking one extra slot? Total cost: 1,000,000 Mana.]
"The hell!? Why is it a million now!?" His frustration burned, but only for a moment. He exhaled sharply, forcing himself to focus. Right now, he had five slots. Krell Worker, Krell Scout, Krell Logistic, Krell Soldier, and Krell Supervisor. Last time he had tried modifying a species, the system had asked him to evolve all of them at once. He considered trying to work around the limitation by tweaking a template, creating a loophole, but deep down, he knew—the system would just find another way to screw him over.
Clicking his tongue, he made his decision. The Logistics Krell had to go. It had served its purpose, but now he needed something stronger. He pulled up the modification interface, rewriting the Logistics Krell into something new.
The Krell Tank. The appearance remained mostly similar to the Krell Soldier but with one key difference. It use the armored hide from the Brute Ravager. The raw defensive boost made it a walking fortress built for the frontlines.
Now, it needed a test. Ben summoned two Krell Soldiers, placing them against a single Krell Tank. He didn't give them Adaptive Muscle yet as this was test for the armored hide.
The moment the test began, the Soldiers rushed in. One slashed at the Tank's chest, but the attack barely left a mark, its claws scraping against the thick armor. The second Soldier attacked from the side, spear driving toward the Tank's ribs, but before it could land a solid hit, the Tank's hand shot out, grabbing the spear mid-thrust. Without hesitation, it yanked the Soldier forward and slammed its knee into its gut. A sharp crack echoed as the impact dented its exoskeleton.
The second Soldier saw the opening and leaped onto the Tank's back, claws flashing as it tried to tear into the armor. But the attack barely scratched the surface. The Tank reached up, grabbed the Soldier by the head, and with terrifying ease, slammed it into the ground. The impact sent up a shockwave of dust, the ground cracking beneath the force. The Soldier twitched, trying to rise, but before it could recover, the Tank's foot came down, pinning it in place.
The first Soldier, seeing its comrade struggling, charged again. The Tank turned, its massive, armored fist rearing back, and with one devastating punch, sent the Soldier flying. It crashed against the wall with a loud thud, slumping down, barely conscious.
Ben grinned. "Good..." But then his expression darkened. The only reason he had won against the Brute Ravagers was because he was the one fighting them. His pickaxe was sharp enough to tear through their armor like paper.
But if his Krell had to fight them head-on? They'd be massacred.
His gaze flicked to the Krell Tank. At the very least, it could withstand the Brutes' raw strength. But durability alone wouldn't be enough. The Tank wasn't perfect. Its sheer bulk slowed it down. If it were forced to fight against faster, more coordinated enemies, it could get overwhelmed. Ben tapped his fingers against his arm, thinking. 'Since it doesn't need a shield anymore, I might as well give it another weapon.'
An idea sparked. Something that could also be the solution for the Krell Scouts' problem with holding bows while using their new claws.
A portable crossbow—mounted directly onto one hand.
Ben remembered using a weapon like that in an old assassin game. A hidden, wrist-mounted crossbow that fired quickly, requiring only a small hand movement to reload.
Now the question was—how could he make one here?