C1723 - Winding Up Mutations
Name: Anthony
Level: 11 (Mythic) (VIII)
Species: Endless Paragon
-x-X-x-
I address a few other minor details with my mutations. The triad has given me an organ that effectively acts as a mind mana construct, taking energy from my core and converting it so it can feed straight into my mind constructs. It's an overall efficiency boost compared to having to do the conversion myself or using a whole mana gland on it.
A gain in efficiency that can be further improved via mutation, naturally. I take the organ to +15, essentially having it produce mind mana more efficiently at each step, then move on to my vestigial legs.
It's not hard to work out what I need from the vestigial legs. I need them to grow in faster once they're… deployed… I suppose. Then, once they have been… deployed… I need the next set of vestigial legs to be ready sooner.
After all, I might have my legs explode twice in rapid succession. Replacing them once is all well and good, but it doesn't fully remove the vulnerability of having legs that are much weaker than the rest of me.
So I take one of those options at +5, then the other at +10 and fuse them at +15. Hopefully that'll help out.
Speaking of which, my legs themselves. They're way too important to be running around unmutated, even if they have been reforged into a fancy new material.
Graviton Splinters. My legs don't suffer the effects of gravity as much as they should, which basically means my body puts less stress on my legs than it should. Along with being an overall much more durable material, it's a benefit that helps a lot, considering my rather chonky weight class.
When it comes to what I want to do with my leg mutations… well, making them overall sturdier doesn't hurt. Just because I have a backup system in the form of vestigial legs doesn't mean I'm excited to have to use it. Secondly, making them overall stronger doesn't seem like a bad idea either. Being able to carry more weight and move my body around a bit easier seems like an overall winner.
Which is enough to get me to +15 where I'll leave it off.
I think that's enough mutating for the time being, I don't like to do too much at once, especially right now when I'm still getting used to my new frame.
Locking in those selections, the all too familiar sensation of the creeping itch begins to take over. It builds and builds until I can't help but flail wildly, twitching on my back on the ground.
FLAGGANAZZN!
I hate this. Stupid Gandalf! Why the heck didn't he fix this problem? Lousy bearded charlatan. I'm really the only person who has to endure this nonsense? Not even person! The only monster who has to endure it too!
Outrageous!
When I get the chance, I'm going to give that Gandalf a piece of my mind. This injustice cannot be allowed to stand!
When it's over, I emerge from the chamber I used, looking dignified and calm. Nobody knows of the embarrassing situation I was just forced to endure. I need to silence those who actually saw me flailing around that last time, come to think of it. I'm sure they won't say a word so long as I ask them nicely.
"Eldest, are you finished mutating?"
"Uh. Yes. Yes I am. How did you know I was mutating?"
Sloan looks down and to the side.
"It was just a lucky guess."
"I… see."
"Putting that aside," the general says, cleaning her antenna, "I thought I should check with you to see if your plans remain unchanged for the next phase. I believe all things are in place from our end."
"Good. Have we received payment for the first wave of delvers?"
"Yes, Eldest. I'm still surprised they were willing to pay."
"The only thing worse than dealing with monsters is the indignity of openly losing to monsters. If we had locked up their people and kept them, Green Mountain might have used it as an excuse to ramp up their aggression against us, but doing so would have made them an international embarrassment. We gave them a relatively easy out. Pay up, more than they would like, and the problem goes away."
"But will they be willing to do so a second time? Won't they just get angrier and decide they would rather go to war than have to pay up again?"
"War is expensive," I tell the general. "We can make some magnanimous concessions in order to soothe their pride, but we are going to pull a lot of money out of Green Mountain. I assure you they won't be interested in fighting us after that. As long as Merchant strikes the right balance, we will have very angry, but pacified neighbours for a while."
Sloan shakes her head.
"I don't know what to make of that one. She is so… un-ant. I find her behavior unnerving."
"Don't be fooled," I warn her. "Merchant is just as much an ant and a member of this family as anyone else. The only difference between her and the rest of us is that she understands some things that we don't."
"You… you don't understand them either, Eldest?" Sloan says, sounding surprised.
"Not really," I shrug. "Trust me, Merchant is going to do a great deal for this family. As long as we don't get in the way, she isn't going to have a problem."
I pull an antenna through my elbow joint, revelling in the sensation of cleanliness. Nothing beats a nicely groomed antenna.
"Alright then. Time to go and make a show. This could get nasty, so make sure everyone is prepared for some tough fighting."
"I will, Eldest."
-x-X-x-
I'm not overly eager to become further acquainted with these pests trying to capture my siblings, but an emphatic message needs to be sent, and I am just the ant to send it.
Besides, I can't go down to the fifth and deliver sweet, sweet vengeance to the Krath until I've finished matters up here. As much fun as I've had squashing delvers into the ground and laughing at them, they aren't exactly the biggest fish my family is dealing with right now. That title is reserved for the slug tribes of the fifth stratum.
And so, the time has arrived to sally forth and put an end to this sorry affair once and for all. At least… it would be.
[Why in the name of heck would I bring you lot with me?]
[You don't have a choice, unless you want to breach the agreement made by your sibling, Solant,] Chyron tells me.
Ugghhhh. Lousy Solant. Making her lousy agreements.
[W-what do you even hope to achieve out there? Stop my plan? Tip off Green Mountain and get me killed? I have to warn you, trying something like that will make a whole lot of people go down with me.]
Chyron gives me her characteristic scowl while Morrelia and whatshisname look on from behind her. Once they heard I was looking to head back out, they tracked me down depressingly quickly.
[We are to observe you,] Chyron stated.
With her full legion armour on, she's an intimidating individual, or at least, she would be if I didn't tower over her to a comical degree. I shoot a secretive glance toward Morrelia, but she only gives me a hint of a shrug.
[We will be travelling with literal battalions of ants and Colony loyalists,] she says, speaking in her official capacity as a Legion officer. [It's unlikely we will be able to do anything to you at all. Even if we wanted to.]
That's true enough. However, I can't shake the feeling they're after something else entirely.
[Isn't it a massive waste of time to have a Legion commander and her two highest ranking officers follow me around? I thought we were in the middle of a global crisis or something.]
Chyron folds her arms, looking even more grouchy than usual.
[Part of that emerging global crisis is the existence of your family, and the existence of a giant ant monster who is experiencing the Call. Keeping an eye on the situation is the least we should do.]
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[Us? We've been nothing but helpful,] I scoff.
I will conveniently not think of some occasions where the Colony, or I, have been somewhat less than helpful. Judging by her face, the commander is equally as aware of those occasions as I am. Even so, she's hardly being fair. The Colony has done a heck of a lot of helpful stuff! Not for the Legion, though.
[Fine, you can tag along, just try not to be too annoying or scheme to bring about my death. Alright?]
[No promises,] Chyron says, then turns her back to coordinate with her officers.
Sheesh. There's no helping some people. Well, at least that's the only group I need to worry about following me around. Time to get out of here.
"Uh, Eldest? Is this a good moment?"
Wha? Who the heck?! I swing my antennae about, wondering who on Pangera is talking to me. A moment later I recognise the scent and realise my antennae are completely useless in this instance.
"Protectant? Where the heck have you been?"
Not going to lie, I haven't missed my protection detail. Usually I end up just worrying about them since they are much weaker than I am. What are they supposed to do to help me against the things that I find dangerous? Making sure they aren't in harm's way has just become another chore for me, but I suppose it helps keep the rest of the Colony happy knowing that there's someone out there watching me.
"Just like you, we had to evolve in order to survive our exposure to the toxin of Theorazzn. It was a long process to evolve, and it's taken us some time to adjust to our new forms."
Ah, right. They did actually save my life by taking on some of the toxin. Maybe I shouldn't look down on them as much anymore.
"So you guys are tier seven now? Good stuff. What sort of evolution did you end up going with? Wait, did you get purified like I did?"
Hopefully they didn't get stuck with some gross, slimy, toxic evolution. I'd feel terrible if that happened because of me.
"We were cleansed shortly after you were," Protectant assures me. "Of course, the contamination still had an effect on our evolution, as I'm sure it did to yours."
"Turned out to be pretty helpful, to tell you the truth. Well, why don't you pop out so I can have a look at you?"
There's a moment of hesitation.
"I would… rather not. I've only made contact so that you are aware we are back and ready to fulfil our purpose again."
"That doesn't mean I can't take a look at you, does it? Unless… wait. You took one of those super weird evolutions, didn't you?"
"We took an evolution that suits our purpose," Protectant replies defensively. "We are very happy with it."
Holy moly. Have they become a formless entity, or some sort of weird… collective brain thing? I've been offered some really odd evolutions in my time, goodness knows what they ended up with.
"I'm guessing it helps keep you hidden?"
"... Sort of."
These answers are too cryptic for my liking. I'm starting to think I don't even want to see what they've become.
"Alright, I'll leave you be for now. Welcome back to you and the gang."
-x-X-x-
Once again, I'm back out into the tunnels. For the fun of it, I'm deploying my submarine technique, even though it's not particularly necessary. There's just something satisfying about floating along, my legs tucked up under my carapace. I can almost imagine the sonar pinging sound ringing out from my antennae and bouncing off the tunnel walls.
Am I also satisfied at the way most monsters don't realise I'm coming, then turn and flee when they catch sight of me?
Maybe. Could I really say one way or the other?
This time, however, I'm not leaving the nest on my own. Two battalions of ants and their non-insect support troops are with me, including dozens of priests. I'm making sure I stay well ahead of the priests….
More importantly, I have Tiny and Invidia along for the ride, not just Crinis.
I'm hoping that when we get down to the fifth, or, more likely, the sixth, that I'll be able to start power levelling the three of them so that they too can reach the eighth tier. I can barely imagine how strong they will be with full mythic evolutions.
Perhaps I'd become the first person/monster to have three tier eight mythic pets, which is a nice thought. We'll need to be that strong if we want to thrive as we go deeper. I expect the fifth is going to be more challenging than it was the last time I was there, but in my mind, I'm already looking forward to what lies beyond. A hidden world that almost nobody on Pangera has ever seen. Total victory over the slugs will be finally breaking through the wall they've presented for century after century.
Once that happens, the world will be a different place than it was before.
[So….] Tiny says to me. [... not… smash?]
[You can hit them,] I tell him, frustrated, [but you have to try not to actually kill anyone.]
[So…] he says, thoughts still trailing, [not hit… hard?]
I can tell he thinks the idea is completely ridiculous. Hitting something with less than the full strength he's capable of must seem like an almost disrespectful thing to do.
How do I get this through to him… in a way that he can understand? I'm going to need his help in the battle to come, I'm fairly sure of it, but I can't have him annihilating swathes of people and then expect there to be some sort of peaceful resolution afterwards. Key to my strategy is that we annoy and irritate our opponents, frustrate and confound them, but do not make them so angry they don't care about the exorbitant cost of continuing the conflict with us.
If we do too much damage, cause too much trouble, then the people of Green Mountain might decide to seek vengeance, regardless of what it takes, in which case we'll be drawn into a protracted war that will leave us and them significantly weaker.
That is not what I want!
What I want is for Green Mountain to snatch its hand back like a child who reached a little too close to the fire.
[Look, just… think of it as sparring, right?]
[... Sparring?]
[It's… teaching. You're going to be teaching them about your special brand of ape-boxing. So you can hit them, but only for the purpose of showing them… how great you are at hitting things. If you squish them all, they won't be able to remember the lesson you taught them, right?]
Tiny thinks about this for a moment.
[Ape-boxing… good,] he says finally, nodding to himself.
[Exactly! And you want to make sure they appreciate how good it is, right?]
He thinks about this some more… then nods again.
[Right.]
[So, just this once, I need you to do some sparring, some teaching. Just… put them to sleep, alright?]
Bounding along beside me, I can tell the big ape isn't quite all the way on board, but he's starting to warm up to the idea.
[What about me, Master?] Crinis asks, mainly for attention, I think.
[You?! You better behave yourself. Is it even possible for you to fight without inflicting unspeakable horrors upon your enemies?]
[Well… maybe I could just inflict some… minor unspeakable horrors?]
[No!]
Goodness gracious. Crinis would certainly put fear into them, but a sea of dismembered bodies isn't the sort of thing they would be likely to forgive. The mileage the Church of the Path would get out of that sort of thing… I can barely imagine.
[How about your Curse Magic?] I ask her instead. [Haven't you been working on that for a long time?]
[I have,] Crinis says brightly. [Am I allowed to use it?]
[Sure. Absolutely. Use that instead of doing… what you normally do. That'll be much better.]
Crinis falls silent, satisfied with what I've had to say, and I feel some relief. Just thinking about what she could do to some people with those tentacles of hers… it doesn't bear thinking about it. I can barely watch when she does it to monsters. No… a little Curse Magic will be much better.
Well… I think.
Now that I think about it, I don't really recall what Curse Magic is actually capable of. I shake off the thought. No point worrying about it, there's no way it can be worse than what she normally does.
-x-X-x-
Luckily, I didn't encounter anything fishy as I made my way through the tunnels with the forces of the Colony filing along behind me. It looks as though the delvers of Green Mountain have given up the game, at least for the time being, worried that I would still be lurking in the shadows and looking to capture them once more.
Which I am.
Yet, as we get closer to Green Mountain itself, I start to notice more and more activity. Sweeping along as the vanguard, I'm no longer bothering to conceal my mana, and it shows since I detect multiple small groups high-tailing it away from me once I come into their range. Hopefully they'll be passing along word that I'm here without having noticed who's coming with me.
Finally, I reach a point only a dozen or so kilometres away from what could be considered directly beneath the Green Mountain itself. We are most certainly within their land and could well be considered an invasion force by a casual observer. Green Mountain would be well within their rights to field their army along with their delvers to try and squash this threat.
In fact, if they did, I would be most grateful!
[Alright, Crinis. You know what you have to do.]
[DESTROY THE FILTH!]
…
[Um… excuse me?]
Crinis, in the form of an amorphous blob, detaches from my shadow and plops onto the tunnel floor beside me. She waves several tentacles frantically, clearly embarrassed.
[I misspoke!] she says, defending herself from my accusatory gaze.
[Sure you did.]
Your mask slipped there for a second, Crinis. Make sure it's firmly attached before you get out from under my mandibles. Can't have any mistakes.
[There will be no destruction of anything, filthy or clean. You are going to scout. Remember?]
[Y-yes, Master. I remember.]
[There won't be any slips, will there?]
[Of course not!]
[No… accidentally cutting people into more parts than they are supposed to have?]
[W-well…] she hesitates, [how many parts is a person supposed to be in?]
[ONE!] I yell. [They are supposed to be in one, Crinis!]
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She wiggles her tentacles at me, in some sort of protective motion.
[Alright, I have it! I will make sure everyone I find remains in one piece.]
[And not traumatised in any way.]
[Dammit.]
[AHA! I knew it! Get out there scouting, no fighting at all! Absolutely none. You clearly can't be trusted right now.]
Sheesh.
Exposed and admonished, a slightly miffed Crinis lifts herself up off the ground, then drops, falling directly into her own shadow, which ripples like the surface of a pond before fading into nothing. She's gone, off into the shadow realm. From here, things are going to get much more dangerous as there could be traps around every corner. I'm using my gravitational sense to try and spot any shenanigans, but nothing is foolproof. With Crinis out there keeping an eye on things, metaphorically, I'm going to be much happier.
"Are you sure about this, Eldest? It seems foolish to think we can engage in a battle with three legs tied behind our backs."
Sloan is worried, as she should be. Fighting an opponent that wants to destroy while trying not to destroy them in return is… frankly silly. It's capital 'S' silly. A level of silly that can't possibly be contained within the confines of a sausage.
"We aren't even aiming to fight them," I reassure the general, "not really. A bit of posturing, a bit of, as Tiny would put it, flexing back and forth, then we take off, our opponents none the wiser. Think of it as a display of force exercise. Show them that we mean business."
"We are far from our own territory," Sloan replies, bringing her antennae through her elbow joints to soothe her nerves. "We can't be sure they won't slip behind us and force a battle."
"Which is why we're taking precautions. Scouts and mages are out in the tunnels. We brought core shapers to keep watch on the flanks."
Getting caught up in a fight would be the worst possible outcome. Forced to defend ourselves, casualties would be the inevitable result.
[Master?] Crinis calls to me, her thoughts faint as if she's calling from a great distance. [Can you hear me?]
[I can. Is there an issue?]
[I found something that you might want to see.]
[It's not a mysteriously dismembered person, is it?]
[No!]
Well, this is interesting.
[What is it?]
[I need to come back, in case they find me.]
They? Who is they?
"Apparently, Crinis has found something unexpected," I tell Sloan, which she doesn't respond well to.
"Unexpected? That's not good! Unexpected in what way? Unexpected can be positive or negative."
"You clearly need some rest. You're too high strung. When was the last time you had torpor?"
"... No comment."
That's not good.
It doesn't take long before Crinis returns, slipping out of the shadows and landing in a little blob by my side.
[There's an army in the tunnels, Master,] she tells me without any preamble.
[Already? We only just got here.]
[I think they've been here for a few days at least. I don't think they're from Green Mountain either.]
Not from the mountain? So… where are they from? Who the heck is sending an army down here?
[Master, I think they looked a little… religious.]
Religious? Wait…
[Are you telling me that the Church of the Path has sent an army down here?!]
[Yes, I think so.]
…
[Tiny, sparring is off.]
-x-X-x-
Summoning an army to try and defeat a monster isn't as simple as it seems. Powerful monsters may be large, but they are also, most of the time, quite cunning as well. Trying to engage one with a force of tens of thousands within the unpredictable terrain of the Dungeon is far from a simple matter.
If the beast senses you coming, it may well just leave the area, moving somewhere else for a time before returning to its previous den. If the monster is particularly attached to its home, then perhaps it may choose to stand and fight, but there is a limit to the number of men and women able to engage a monster at once.
This is why, when the need arises, most monsters are hunted by armies of at most ten thousand. Special training and unique discipline is required when engaging a monster of such size and strength as it is far from a regular sort of engagement.
Excerpt from 'Hunting The Great Beasts' by Xinci
Really now. The Church of the Path, the very people I hold the strongest grudge against, just decided to send a punitive army of thousands over here to deal with me?!
That's… that's… so delicious!
No. No! Down, Dark One! Back to the forbidden depths that spawned you!
Aha! You think I will slink away into the darkness so easily while my prey has delivered itself on a silver platter? Nay! Nay, I say again! This is my place, and here I shall remain!
[How many of them do you think there are?] I ask Crinis.
[At least four thousand, Master. I didn't stop to count, I was worried they would find me.]
[Good call, Crinis. Better if they don't know that you're here.]
Not to mention, they might have strange monster-trapping techniques that would prevent her escape. I'm the one who wants to be trapping them, not the other way around.
Thousands of minions from the Path, right in front of me. It's almost too good to be true. Should I just gravity bomb the lot of them to heck? If I spit out a bomb as big as I can make it, empowering the spell with the Altar, would they be able to deal with something like that?
Wait a second, I can't do that! Unleashing a bomb of that size directly under Green Mountain could destabilise the entire city! Goodness knows what sort of damage that would do, and it'd completely destroy my peace plan while I was at it!
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Damn you, Dark Anthony! Get back to the pits!
Sheesh. Holding a grudge against the Church of the Path is only right, but letting it derail everything I've been trying to do here? No way.
As much as I'd like to go completely wild and unleash my wrath on this army, that won't win me the peace that I want.
"Eldest… you aren't thinking of doing anything… drastic… are you?" Sloan asks carefully.
"Wha… Me? Of course not!"
"How bad?"
"I thought about bringing the entire mountain down on them using a gravity bomb so large it would probably kill all of us."
"That's pretty bad."
"But I've recovered! Sheesh! Sometimes you have so little faith in me."
"I was just a little worried, Eldest. You can be impulsive at times."
"... I wish I could say I'm shocked and offended by that description."
I can't, though. I really, really can't.
"Look, this complicates matters, but not dramatically," I tell the general. "We have more opponents to deal with than we thought, but that's fine. Ultimately, our goal remains the same. In fact, this could even work in our favour."
"How could this possibly work in our favour? There are thousands of monster-killing specialists out there, hoping to destroy you, specifically. In my opinion, you should probably leave this area and return to the nest."
"We agree," Protectant whispers from somewhere invisible.
Let me check… she's on my head. Really?! It's not free real estate up there! I start waving my antennae in disguised motions, trying to sweep her off without anyone realising what I'm doing, but she's too damn agile, which only makes me more irritated. Stop hopping about up there, dammit!
"I'm not going anywhere! Our eventual payoff just got bigger, that's all that's happening here. We can deal a bloody nose to Green Mountain and to the Church at the same time. What's not to like? If they aren't stupid, they'll learn not to mess with our family and will give us the space we need to finish our work in the fifth."
Once we succeed there, being the first in Pangera to achieve any sort of victory over the Krath, we will be unassailable heroes the world over. Nobody would dare to say we were dangerous and useless monsters after a historic accomplishment like that.
"Eldest," Sloan says, "I'm just worried that this will be more than you are able to take on. You are powerful, but you've only recently evolved. This plan was already dangerous with just Green Mountain involved. Now there is an entirely new army for you to deal with. Isn't this more than you can handle?"
"Of course not," I scoff. "You have no idea just what I'm capable of now."
In truth, I myself am not completely sure what I'm capable of, but this will be a great way to find out!
"You worry too much, Sloan. Uh… Sloan?"
Nothing but the fading shadows greet me as I turn to look at where the general had been standing. Even now? Even here?!
They really aren't mucking around.
-x-X-x-
There was something sacred to standing in the Dungeon. It was a place of infinite possibility, of rich mana and unending gifts. What purpose did it serve, for what reason did it put forward such bounty, if it wasn't for the benefit of the Old Races who had lived upon Pangera before the Dungeon had made itself known to them?
War Bishop Graham Pearson rose to his feet, having completed his hour of prayer, feelings of praise and gratitude still resounding in his heart. After a lifetime as part of the Church, exposed to both the light and dark sides of it, he still felt, deep in his bones, the certainty of his faith.
The Dungeon existed to serve the worthy.
Every monster that spawned within it was an offering for those strong enough to claim it.
"I don't need to be here," Grand Priest Vinting stated from nearby, not for the first time.
Unbothered, Graham turned to the other man, his eyes as cold and blue as mana-infused ice.
"Your steps along the Path have led you to this place, to this moment," the War Bishop chided him patiently. "You are where you are meant to be. It isn't for you to refute or deny, but to pray and meditate on why."
Alir's face tightened with anger, but the War Bishop had no fear of him. If they were to be compared in the crude metric of Levels, Graham outstripped his contemporary several times over. In terms of experience and skill, the gap was significantly wider than that. Between the two men, the only way in which Alir could be considered superior was rank within the Church.
Not that Graham cared for such things.
"Are you at least willing to meet with the delegates from Green Mountain?" Alir asked acidly.
He was hoping to find a way to get himself out of the Dungeon, Graham could see that. If it wasn't possible by demanding the War Bishop let him go, perhaps he could influence others to make it happen. The man was as slippery as a snake, and unworthy of the elevated position he held within the faith.
"Of course I am," Graham replied. "You understand that prayer must come before other tasks, do you not?"
"Naturally," Alir replied with a scowl.
"Then I fail to see the problem."
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Not far away from the two men, Graham could see the delegation waiting. Strong-looking soldiers, experienced professionals with decades of service in the Dungeon, fighting waves and purging monsters. People Graham could respect.
They understood the trade of what took place in the Dungeon, even if they didn't grasp its purpose.
He pitied them for their ignorance. What satisfaction could they find in their work without fully grasping the divine meaning behind it? Blindly walking the Path was no different than not walking on it at all.
Of course, he did not allow the pity he felt to show on his face as he approached them.
"Greetings. I am Graham Pearson, War Bishop of the eleventh Judgement Battalion. Do I have the honour of addressing Marshal Williams and Marshal Selda?"
The two figures glanced towards each other before turning back to him and offering a short bow. Despite there being no significant difference between the armour worn by the Marshals and the officers around them, Graham always made it a point to know the faces of important figures he might encounter while in the Dungeon.
Williams, a short and stocky man, nevertheless carried an air of authority and quiet competence that made him seem much larger than his stature would normally allow. Bald, yet with overlarge and fierce eyebrows, he would be almost comical if not for the power he radiated.
Selda was similarly severe. Greying hair pulled back tight, she was thin to the point of being gaunt, yet even standing still, she exuded a lithe and deadly grace. Graham had no doubt the sabre sheathed at her hip could be placed at his neck faster than a man could blink.
Lesser officers stepped away as Graham approached, Alir following slightly behind. It was Marshal Williams who broke the silence.
"There's no need for us to be coy with each other," he said softly, his gaze steady and confident, "that's for the politicians. Do you want our help hunting the monster? If so, we have been given authority to negotiate on parts."
"What is Green Mountain prepared to offer?" the War Bishop asked simply.
"Two thousand soldiers for two parts in ten, or four thousand for five," came the reply.
"You are mistaken if you believe that your soldiers are the equivalent of a Judgement Battalion," Alir said stiffly. "It would be… an insult to the Church to insinuate such a thing."
Always tiresome, arguing over the body parts of a monster before it had even been felled. However, when they were hunting the sort of prey that were chasing now, it was inevitable that these discussions would take place. Half of this monster's corpse would be worth an incredible fortune. Enough to lift up the Green Mountain for decades to come.
"Four thousand for four parts in ten," Graham said, then held up a hand to forestall the Marshals, "I will not negotiate."
Williams and Selda exchanged glances once more, communicating with nothing but their eyes.
"In addition," Graham went on, "all Soul Crystal that is gleaned will belong to the Church. On this point, I will also not negotiate."
After a long moment of silence, Williams nodded.
"Aye," he said. "We have a deal."
Nine thousand soldiers to deal with one ant. It would be more than enough.
-x-X-x-
Normally, the hardest part about hunting for a powerful monster was trying to pin it in place and bring your force to bear. In the worst case, this could involve a month's long campaign of carefully manoeuvring, slowly cutting off tunnels, taking control of sections of the Dungeon and gradually herding the creature where you needed it to go.
Graham had played this game of cat and mouse dozens of times in his career and was more than proficient in the methods used to put a monster exactly where he wanted it. Yet, this time, that knowledge and experience wouldn't be useful. Not only was the monster unusually intelligent, it had more than a few allies and a literal fortress it could retreat to whenever it wanted. Most monsters, especially powerful ones, lived a solitary existence or cultivated a small following of beasts at most, not a whole civilization of millions.
Should the ant seek to retreat back to its territory and vanish, then there was precious little that the War Bishop could do about it. As adept as his Judgement Battalion may be at fighting monsters, it wasn't enough to assault a fortified position and fight a tier eight Mythic while inside of it.
However, this was, it seemed, destined to be the strangest monster hunt of his career. Not only had the ant not retreated to safety, it seemed determined to deliver itself to them on a silver platter. Not an hour after scouts had been sent out, reports had come back that the beast was nearby, waiting.
Deep in a conversation with the Marshals about strategy and tactics, Graham had been taken by surprise at the news. Was the ant less intelligent than he'd thought? Was there some strategy involved that he didn't see?
Further scouting had indeed revealed that the creature wasn't alone. An army was camped nearby, a mix of ants and sapients who should surely know better, along with several other strong monsters that were hiding themselves. So it seemed that the ant did not intend to throw its life away, but instead wanted to engage in direct conflict.
Readying the troops for imminent battle wasn't what Graham had thought he would be doing that day, but he welcomed it. A quick resolution, glory to the Path, and he would retire back to the barracks beneath the Cathedral where he belonged.
"Do you really intend to march out and confront the monster right now?" Grand Priest Vinting asked, unable to conceal the nervousness behind the question.
"I thought you would welcome such an outcome," the War Bishop said, not giving the man much of his attention. Forming up the Battalion and their allies was taking longer than he would have liked, and perhaps some more time to better integrate the two forces would have been ideal, but they didn't have that luxury. With the monster so close, they couldn't very well start doing training drills, it could charge their position and be upon them in a matter of minutes. "You'll be out of here quickly and back to the Cathedral."
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What Alir wanted was to be out of the Dungeon before any conflict took place. That wasn't going to happen.
The Grand Priest's face turned a deeper shade of red as his anger boiled up inside him. Graham had noticed that Alir was having a more difficult time managing his emotions as of late. Before he could open his mouth and vent whatever spite had bubbled up, a nearby voice called to Graham in an urgent tone.
"The monster is on the move!"
In an instant, the Grand Priest ceased to exist in Graham's mind.
"Towards us or away?"
"Towards!"
It was coming, now.
"Get everyone in formation. I'll speak to the Marshals and make sure they are confident in our strategy."
So saying, the War Bishop strode away, his armour gleaming in the soft light of the Dungeon and white cape fluttering behind him.
"You've heard, then?" Williams noted, not really asking a question.
"Yes. We can expect to be engaged shortly. Are you both comfortable with the strategy I laid out?"
Williams and Selda once again exchanged that silent glance. Graham could tell they knew each other well, with years of experience working together, simply by noting how well they could silently communicate.
"Your plan is… unconventional," Selda said, phrasing her thoughts with some delicacy. "You've laid out your reasons, but we are unsure if we concur with your conclusions."
Graham nodded.
"Then I expect you to clear the field as quickly as possible."
So saying, he moved to turn and walk away, only to be stopped by Williams reaching out to snatch hold of his arm.
"We didn't say we were leaving," the bald man stated softly.
"If you are not willing to follow the strategy I've laid out, then I do not want your help," the War Bishop returned without malice. "Without these elements in place, you will be more hindrance than help."
Both Marshals were taken aback by his forthright attitude. Perhaps they had expected a negotiation, or further discussion. None would be forthcoming, there wasn't time.
Sensing a slight change in the flow of mana, Graham turned to see the giant ant round a corner in the distance and look towards them.
It was massive, like a moving building, and the sheer weight of its presence could be felt even at this distance. Its carapace seemed to glow, a soft purple light rippling along its exoskeleton, while its eyes shone like burnished jewels.
Without hesitation, it began to walk towards them, unhurried, unthreatened.
Graham turned back to the Marshals.
"We will follow your lead," they assured him, both looking past him to the approaching beast.
"Good. May the Path be with us."
-x-X-x-
The War Bishop stood with his troops, shoulder to shoulder with the men and women he slept, ate, trained and fought beside. Not all of them would survive the day, but that was the price that needed to be paid, and all were willing to pay it.
Sacrifice was the brick and mortar that lay the foundation for the Path. Such had it been since the time of Ascension, so it would be until that time came again.
Divided on the left and right flank were the soldiers provided by Green Mountain, each led by one of the Marshals, with the Judgement Battalion forming the righteous centre. Together, they formed a mighty and indomitable wall that the ant would be forced to overcome if it wished to be victorious.
Doubtless it would try to suppress them using the magic described by those that had been captured, a terrible weight that crushed them into the ground, or lifted them into the air, leaving them helpless. Graham would not have brought his people into the Dungeon if he wasn't prepared to counter such a spell.
If they were able to withstand that pressure, which they should, then the monster would have no choice but to fight them directly. The army it brought with it would complicate matters somewhat, but that was a challenge that Graham was confident they would meet.
After all, he had been trained from childhood to battle monsters. A few ants and humans couldn't hope to stand against him and his brethren.
Close to the Dungeon entrance below the city of Green Mountain, the tunnel was very open, well over a kilometre wide and easily several hundred metres high. It was an ideal staging ground for a large force heading into the depths, but also a good place to fight a battle.
It didn't hurt that the ants would be forced to approach from downhill, giving the high-ground advantage to Graham and his forces. Not that he expected that advantage to amount to much. A roof was just another type of floor to an ant, after all.
As the giant ant approached, Graham could feel the zealous purity of his faith begin to burn within him, growing brighter and brighter with each passing moment. He knew that all of those alongside him would feel the same, their Classes aligned with their faith, after all, and gave rise to a power that was greater than themselves.
In the distance, something changed, causing all nine thousand troops to tense as the ant slowly rose up into the air, still drawing closer, but no longer walking along the ground. From that height it stared down at them as it approached, almost imperiously.
If it wanted to reduce its mobility for the sake of theatrics, Graham had no complaints.
"Hold," he warned those around him, and they settled before passing his message through the ranks.
Should they show their hand too early, the creature would flee, and they would have no hope of tracking it down. Only when it was fully committed could they fight in earnest.
Still several kilometres away, the ant paused, no longer drawing closer, yet there was still movement, somewhere beneath it.
They waited with bated breath as a lone figure, human, approached them, walking boldly up to the waiting army while the ant hovered menacingly in the distance. As it drew closer, Graham was able to make out more details. Hooded, yet with long protrusions rising from the head, the figure wore robes not unlike those a Priest of the Path might wear. Pale-faced, with a short, slightly frazzled brown beard, the man would have looked ordinary, if it weren't for his eyes.
Those eyes blazed with feverish energy. With devotion. With fanaticism. With Faith.
Graham had seen those eyes before, often in the mirror.
A disturbance in the ranks resulted in Alir pushing through to stand by Graham's side while the approaching figure was still two hundred metres away.
"That's the heretic," Alir hissed to him. "Agents of the Church say this man is spreading false teaching and heresy everywhere he goes. There is a standing order for his head."
The War Bishop nodded slowly to show his understanding.
"Th-that's it? Aren't you going to kill him now?" Alir demanded.
"We should hear what he has come to say first. Since he is here with the ant, he will fall in the battle to come. I will make certain of it."
Heresy against the Path. Truly a dreadful and unforgivable sin.
Graham turned toward the Grand Priest.
"Are you going to remain here at the front?" he inquired.
Realising just where he was standing, Alir jumped before he turned and began to push his way to the back once more.
"Greetings!" a voice called to them, booming throughout the tunnel with incredible volume and authority. Still walking closer, the robed figure raised a hand. "I greet you in the name of the Colony!"
There was something magnetic about that voice, something that tugged at the heart of everyone who heard it. This was a high-Level speaker, someone truly gifted in the art of speech and oratory.
"Send word to our allies. Make sure they do not listen to this man speak," he instructed, and someone ran to see it done a beat later.
Members of the Judgement Battalion were trained to resist such things, but he couldn't be certain of the others.
"Come no closer," he called. "Speak your piece."
The approaching figure stopped, then bowed, antennae flopping in the air as he stood back up.
"My name is Beyn Naligic. Once, I was a Priest of the Path, and I have nothing but the highest respect for the men and women of the Judgement Battalions."
Nice words, but filthy from the mouth of a heretic. Graham calmed the righteous fires in his chest. It wasn't time yet.
"We have no interest in the respect of one who has fallen so far," he replied. "Tell us what your monstrous masters have instructed you to say and begone."
"I serve no master except for the true faith!" the heretic declared, eyes burning with zeal. "The new Path that was revealed to me through a great miracle!"
It didn't take much for the man to wind up. A few sentences and his voice was booming off the stone walls of the tunnel.
"YES. THE GREAT ONE HAS SPOKEN TO ME AND DECREED THAT I, BEYN, PASS ON THEIR WONDROUS WORDS! YOU HAVE BEEN EXTENDED GRACE BY THE GREAT ONE!
"SURRENDER YOURSELVES, AND YOU WILL BE SPARED GREAT PAIN! RESIST, AND YOUR LIVES CANNOT BE GUARANTEED!"
So saying, the once-Priest collected himself, chest heaving with the force of his passion.
"What say you?" he rasped.
Graham shook his head. This man was lost to madness.
"There will be no surrender."
The man, Beyn, nodded sadly.
"I feared there would not be. In that case, I have other words for you."
In the distance, the giant ant slowly rotated in the air, until it was facing away from the army.
"The Great One asks that you please don't die."
So saying, the heretic turned, lifted the hem of his robes, and sprinted away down the tunnel.
"SHIELDS!" Graham bellowed.
-x-X-x-
As impressed as I am with Merchant, she has nothing on the industrial, financial and commercial capacity I am now packing in the rear-zone. It's aggressive, stream-lined, with an incredible price-to-earnings ratio and exceptionally creative accounting. My market share is out of control, so close to a monopoly that the only reason I allow competitors to exist is for plausible deniability.
It's not junk occupying my trunk, but a weapons-grade product the military-industrial complex could only dream of.
I tested it not long after leaving the nest and the results were… rather shocking. The unfortunate cave I subjected to my experiments, and the denizens therein, well, let's just say I hope they're in a better place, because they sure as heck aren't on Pangera anymore.
To be honest, I've been pretty nervous about using my acid as the opening salvo of this battle. If they aren't prepared, then my foes are in for a bad, bad time. Trying to ask for peace after melting a few thousand people into quivering piles of goo would be a tough sell.
No holding back now, though. Once Beyn has run clear, I check my aim one final time, then let it rip.
POW!
A single shot is all I unleash, and to be honest, I'm worried that might be too much.
After all, the Industrial Complex is much more than the sum of its parts. Combining the effects of four different body parts into one, and absorbing the power of Theorazzn's mana, it's an entirely new beast compared to what it was before.
As soon as the acid blast is unleashed, the air is filled with a horrific sizzling sound, as if the fluid were eating its way through reality itself. No longer mostly clear, the acid now glows a radioactive green, every drop infused with the ravenous mana of an Ancient.
I haven't unleashed that much acid in that one shot, in fact, I could fire a dozen more right now if I wanted, but I'm a little worried to try. Turning back to the ranks of the gathered army, I hope against hope they're able to cope with what's coming their way.
Shields are up, barriers springing into existence. Skills and spells are being activated, which is all good stuff, I'm glad they aren't taking this too lightly. Because the acid has crossed about half the distance between us, but it's doubled in volume.
Perhaps sensing something is awry, the army doubles down. Golden wings formed of blinding light burst out from the Judgement Battalion in the centre of the formation. Enormous and radiant, the wings fold around the army and surround them in their embrace like a mother protecting her child.
Holy moly, that's impressive as heck! Some sort of miracle magic?
Well, the acid is about to land, and it's currently reached eight times the volume that I fired. I can't help but wince as it splatters against the defences the soldiers have put in place. I bring my front legs together in a prayerful gesture. Please hold.
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There are many properties of Theorazzn's mana that make it so potent and so feared. Most dangerous of all is its natural propensity to consume other forms of energy to produce more of itself. I've come to realise that if it weren't for the boundary regions that separate one stratum from its neighbours, it likely would have eaten up all of the mana in the entire world by now.
Of course, the mana of the fifth is only a diluted imitation of the real stuff, pooled within the hearts. I was poisoned by the real deal, and that energy is what went into my acid complex.
As soon as it lands, the sizzling sound rises from a crackling, to a deafening roar. With such dense, rich energy to eat, the acid rips through it like Tiny through protein-rich Biomass. Shields crumble, barriers flicker and vanish. The wings of light, so pure and holy only moments ago, are now quite hole-ey, acid chewing through them at several points and making more and more of itself.
Yes, the cycle of life and death, the yin and the yang, creation and destruction, all are contained within my new and improved merchandise. Stimulated, concentrated and specially delivered, it's potent indeed.
Maintaining my view from the air, I try to see if the army is able to withstand the ravenous hunger of my acid. More shields are flickering into place, which is good… and bad. All it does is feed the acid more energy to chew on, but that's better than having it chew on your armour, and then… what's inside the armour.
Once it's started, the propagation effect takes over and it does not stop. After a few minutes, the entire army, and I do mean the entire army, now look as though they've been eaten by a slime. Although the acid itself hasn't touched them, being held off by a series of rapidly shattering then reappearing shields, it has completely surrounded them, sealing them in from all sides with only their dome-shaped shields holding it off.
Still propagating, acid is starting to drip onto the ground and eat through that as well.
Thankfully, the stuff isn't as potent as Theorazzn's own goop, which is so strong it barely lost any potency after a thousand years. After ten minutes, it finally stops creating more of itself and the acidic effect begins to wear out, having eaten through an awful lot of mana by this point.
Running off the few remaining shields, the acid hisses and bubbles out over the floor of the tunnel until it's all gone.
Well now.
It's not as easy as it used to be to read people's expressions, it's been way too long since I was a human, but I think they're looking… a little shellshocked? I suppose it can't have been pleasant, being surrounded by ravenously hungry, self-propagating acid.
Still, they survived! That's a relief. I was hoping it would tire them out a bit, but that they'd ultimately survive it. A strategy that worked flawlessly.
Feeling smug and generous, I decide to broadcast my mind to them.
[You may surrender if you wish!] I declare.
For a few moments, I wait, smugness leaking out of me as not a single soldier moves so much as a pinky toe.
What's going on? Were they not impressed by the acidic display? It looked horrifying from over here! Well… if that's the way they're going to be, I suppose another round can't hurt.
Slowly rotating in the air, I turn my back towards the army once again.
"CHARGE!"
Roars and cries fill the tunnel as the troops charge towards me.
Aha! I knew you were scared of the acid!
-x-X-x-
After displaying the superiority of my produce, I'm sure I've dragged a fair few resources out of my opponents. Dealing with that sort of acid apocalypse must have drained them of mana and mental energy, I've no doubt about it.
They've also been forced out of their position. Had they decided to stay in place, they risked having to sit and wait while I fired further barrages of acid at them. Clearly they were unwilling to tolerate such a thing and have chosen to attack with vim and vigour!
Excellent.
I can feel my head start to heat up as my mind constructs work furiously, mana twisting and weaving at impossible speeds as I prepare to engage. There are many, many things I have in store for these punks, and I can't wait to deliver the goods.
It's a healthy form of stress relief!
Behind me, the two battalions I brought with me are moving into position to back me up, along with Tiny and Invidia. Crinis is lurking nearby and not in my shadow, since I instructed her to hide somewhere else, overriding her objections. She'll be able to join the fighting at the opportune moment.
Well, let's see how you deal with this!
Chortling to myself, I unleash a gravity well. Strong, but not empowered, I cast it directly over their advancing heads, reshaping gravity around them and driving them down into the ground.
Against much smaller groups of delvers, this was a highly effective means of attack, since they weren't able to destroy the spell or counter it in any way. I suppose what Granin told me so long ago is real, that monsters really are much, much more powerful than individual people, especially as the tiers go higher. Even fifty people, with good Levels and experience, aren't able to challenge me.
Thus proving that monsters are the superior lifeform! Gweheheheh.
However, against what looks to be almost ten thousand humans, the gravity well I conjure is ripped to shreds in a matter of seconds.
Oof.
Well… I suppose it's only to be expected. Who knows how many of these chumps are able to do external mana manipulation. Once it's out there, thousands of minds ripping into my spell is certainly a lot more than I can handle at once.
Fine then!
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Time for the Empowered Gravity Well! How do you like them apples!
Initially, they don't like them very much at all. I poured a heck of a lot of energy into this Well, along with the empowerment, so the effect is strong, slamming people into the ground and making them generally unhappy with life. After the first wave of face slammings, things rapidly begin to turn as all of those minds go to work ripping my spell apart.
How the heck are they able to destroy it so quickly? Even with the sort of numbers they have, it shouldn't be possible to tear my Gravity Well to bits this fast. There's something fishy going on here. Weren't they all supposed to be tired after fending off the acid?! Yeah, this smells a bit.
I recognise this stench. The foul smell of hijinks!
Well, it's fine. I'm not counting on these Gravity Wells to win the battle for me or anything, I was just testing to see how much gas they had in the tank. Apparently, plenty.
So I'll just have to wear them down even more thoroughly.
Man, they really are able to cover a lot of ground unexpectedly quickly. It's weird to see an entire army just Dashing their way towards me. They're really shmooving out there, and it won't be long before they reach me, which will make things a little dicey.
I pull out more mana and prepare to start causing mayhem, but something takes me by surprise before I get going.
From the Judgement Battalion, that bright light shines once more, momentarily blinding me with the sudden flash of its radiance. My vision clears quickly, and I see the light has once again taken form. Not wings this time, but lances, dozens of them, hovering in the air above the charging troops.
My antennae scream in warning and I react on instinct, releasing the hold of the Well on me and dropping like a stone.
Perhaps they predicted my response, or maybe they just fired the things in a broad pattern. Unable to do too much in the air to dodge, I twist as best I can, but I can't avoid them all. A lance the size of a telephone pole slams into my side, skewering me like delicious meats from the middle-east and punching deep into my carapace.
Yeeouch! What the heck was that!? There was barely any wind-up to that spell, and it moved so damned fast I couldn't even see it! How is that fair? If it's going to have no wind-up and fire at the speed of a literal bullet, then shouldn't it lack penetrating power or something? How in the name of all that's shiny did it manage to pierce my glittering carapace?!
At this point, I have to be grateful for a few things. First, the lance isn't actually a physical object, but a manifestation of energy, so after burning spitefully at my insides, it fades away to nothing and I pick myself up off the ground, rather annoyed.
Secondly, Tiny spent a good five minutes before I came up here hitting me as quickly as he could. Which is rather quick. Although it had started to ease off by the time I was nearly kebab-ed, my system is still astonishingly full of healing fluid.
Ice-cold liquid surges through my body, rushing to the point of impact and soaking into the wound, regenerating the damage in a matter of seconds.
Heheheheh. Too bad, suckers! It's going to take more than that. A lot more than that.
My minds continue to spin and an Empowered Gravity Domain expands outwards with me in the centre. The army is closing in now. Time to go toe to toe.
-x-X-x-
Graham had to admit, being up close to the monster was an intimidating sight. No matter how much his experience tried to tell him it was just an ant, that it should be something weak, its presence reminded him that simply wasn't the case.
Taken by surprise, the creature had reacted with unreasonable speed to the appearance of the Penitent Lances. Even so, he had been pleased to see one strike home. They weren't easy to conjure, and though his people would gladly pay the price, the War Bishop was reluctant to call upon them to do so unless it was strictly necessary.
Unlike many who were above them in the Church, he would not take them for granted.
Yet, he had hoped that single blow could prove to be significant, only to have his hopes completely dashed upon closing the distance with the monster. It towered over them, mandibles gnashing, tree-sized antennae sweeping through the air as it skittered with unreasonable speed and grace, not letting itself get bogged down.
Careful inspection told him the wound was already closing over, the carapace regrowing over the healed flesh beneath. He'd been told it healed quickly, but that was absurd!
Raising his sacral mace high, Graham gave voice to his overflowing faith.
"LET FLY THE WRATH OF YOUR FAITH!" he roared, then dived into the purple light that swirled around the monster.
In an instant, he could feel the weight pressing down on him, trying to drive him to his knees. He almost dropped his mace, so heavy his wrist ached with the pain of holding it.
Yet it wasn't so easy to inflict magic upon those who had come to deliver judgement. Graham felt the furnace that burned within him, the flames fuelled by his belief and the Path upon which he walked. Into it, he fed his own life, burning his health with wild abandon.
His skin burned with power as light erupted from within him, driving back the magic of the monster and loosening its grip on him. All around him, he felt his brothers and sisters in Judgement do the same. Behind them, the four thousand soldiers of Green Mountain took up flanking positions, seeking to encircle the monster and firing upon it from a distance.
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With a swing of his mace, skill-light exploded from Graham and he brought it in a wide arc, swinging for the ant's head.
Almost contemptuously, the ant parried the blow, flicking it away with its mandibles, dispersing the light with ease, but a dozen other blows rained down on it at once. To no avail. None were able to penetrate the ant's carapace, and a moment later, the creature dashed, charging through them, light exploding from its mandibles.
Men and women went flying, blasted back from the power and momentum of the monster, but it didn't go far. Hemmed in on all sides, it was surrounded by the burning light of the Path.
"LANCE!" Graham roared.
He fed more of his life force to the flame, allowing it to grow brighter, stronger, merging and melding with that of his brothers and sisters.
Others were tasked with accepting and moulding that energy, forming the lances and directing them towards the monster as its momentum stalled.
A dozen spears of light surged towards the beast, streaking away too fast to be seen. Yet, somehow, the creature seemed to react as if it knew they were coming. It twisted violently, far faster than anything that size should be able to move. Despite its best efforts, it was still struck twice. Once close to its head, the other sinking into the joint connecting one middle-leg to its body.
As the ant stumbled, Graham surged, Dashing with all his strength to close the gap, swinging his mace once more.
Then, the ant flickered, vanishing right before their eyes, only to reappear two hundred metres away, soldiers blasted to the side in its wake.
"KEEP UP THE PRESSURE!" he bellowed, and an answering roar echoed off the chamber walls.
Two good strikes. The lances were powerful weapons and weren't easy to shrug off. Even so, as he swung his mace, Graham could see the wounds were healing even faster than before, the flesh closing and the carapace regrowing the second the lances faded away.
How was it doing this? There were many types of regeneration available to monsters, hundreds were seen in the records of the Church. Every monster who reached this level of power was able to heal itself to some capacity, it was simply a matter of grinding them down, forcing them to heal over and over again until they no longer could.
Graham swung his weapon, fury in his eyes and strengthening his arm.
At all times, the soldiers of the Judgement Battalion were moving, repositioning, adjusting. When some charged in, others were in place to support. When some retreated, more would move in to fill the gap. No matter where the monster went, there were always soldiers attacking in unison, from all sides, at all times.
The monster endured the hail of blows, opened its mandibles wide and chomped.
-x-X-x-
It was difficult for Beyn to see what was happening in the battle due to the flood of tears that obscured his vision. Choked with emotion, he even found it difficult to perform the one function in which he excelled: speaking.
Watching the Great One fling themself into danger, to be attacked and suffer the indignity of battling with those far beneath them, moved him beyond words. So noble the sacrifice! So benevolent the heart of wisdom! Truly the Great One had achieved such a state of transcendence that he would fight and suffer on behalf of others, even at the risk of death. Such unselfish love! Such generosity of spirit!
How could Beyn bear to simply stand and watch?! No, it would be better to sacrifice his remaining arm, both legs, and all of his organs so that the divine embodiment of the New Path did not have to suffer in this way!
Only… only he would–selfishly–ask that he keep his eyes, so he could still behold their majesty, and also his tongue, that he might speak of their glory.
Sadly, that choice had not been given to him, so Beyn was left with no other option but to watch, and endure. Except, that wasn't really true, was it? He was just one man, a weak and corruptible existence who had simply been in the right place and the right time to experience a revelation. Beyn had never thought of himself as special, or deserving. Indeed, the first thing he had done after being confronted with the miracle of the New Path was to deny it! A sin for which he had paid with a limb.
Yet, he had talents, he knew that. He had devotion, a servant's heart and a burning spirit of faith. He also, by the grace of the New Path on which he walked, was one heck of a public speaker.
Resolved, he dashed the tears from his eyes on his sleeve, and rose from his knees on which he had fallen at some point without realising. Clasping the ant-headed staff in his hand tight, he turned to the two battalions, with thousands of humans and dozens of his fellow Priests, and raised his head high.
"BEAR WITNESS!" he roared, his voice so powerful it echoed off the distant tunnel walls and filled every ear, even above the din of battle. "Bear witness to the service and sacrifice of the Great One!"
With his staff, he pointed to the great monster, surrounded on all sides and battling away before them. Beyn knew he couldn't turn and look himself, lest he be too overcome with emotion to continue speaking.
"See how they suffer in our place! See how they take on the burdens and struggles that were meant for us. This is the fight of the new against the old, the past against the future! By your side stand the members of the Colony who have never betrayed you, who have never turned you aside, but rather welcomed you as a member of their family!
"Over there see the servants of the old way! See those who spurned you, who looked down on you, who suppressed and oppressed you!"
"I tell you truly, we have been shown a New Path! A new way to exist within the Dungeon! We have been given salvation beyond what we deserve and grace far greater than we could ever hope to repay."
In the eyes of the faithful, Beyn could see the same sort of fervour that he was certain blazed in his own. Many of his followers were openly weeping, tears streaming down their faces as they lifted their hands towards the roof of the tunnel, or toward the Great One. Others used their mandible clackers to punctuate his sentences, the staccato sound almost like sharp bursts of applause and approbation.
The ants found it a little confusing, but weren't really paying attention.
Emotion surged within the priest and he felt his voice swell to its full, booming power as the listeners fell under the spell of his oration.
"DO NOT FEAR!" he roared. "THE ONLY THING THAT SHOULD TERRIFY US, IS OUR OWN UNWILLINGNESS TO EMBRACE THE NEW WAY!
"YOU HAVE BEEN SHOWN THE LENGTHS TO WHICH THE GREAT ONE WILL GO FOR YOU. ARE YOU WILLING TO RETURN THAT SAME DEVOTION?"
"YES!" the people roared.
Amongst the crowd, there were a few who began to wonder just where this was going. They weren't supposed to be engaged in the fighting just yet, everyone was informed of the plan, and a fanatical charge into the thick of the fighting had not been part of the briefing. Despite their reservations, so persuasive and powerful were the words of the Priest that they couldn't help but be swept up in the wave of emotion that overtook the listeners.
Beyn looked out over the two battalions, celebrating the fervour that looked back at him. Other than the ants, of course, who merely looked a little confused. Even though he could speak with pheromones, these words were not intended for them, but rather for the devoted.
He spread his arm wide.
"Let us pray."
With his head down, Beyn turned back to face the battle and kneeled once more, the rock digging into the soft fabric of his robe.
"Great One. Giver of hope. May your antennae always seek truly the light of the New Path. May your mandibles forever cut through the lies and deceptions of this world. May your carapace shield us from harm and inequity. Ours is a simple request, that we be allowed to shelter you as you have sheltered us. That we may FIGHT to realise THE TRUTH and let it be made MANIFEST, HERE, IN THE FACE OF THE UNBELIEVERS."
Though he tried to suppress his passion, Beyn's voice rose to a roaring crescendo by the end of his prayer, thundering from his throat and smothering the sound of battle completely.
Before he could go on, a system prompt appeared before him.
[Congratulations, you have reached the maximum level for your Class: Ant Orator.]
[You may choose to advance this Class to the following: Prophet of the Colony.]
Beyn's heart grew still in his chest. He accepted the prompt immediately, but couldn't digest any of the information that followed as his thoughts churned and eyes filled with tears.
As if he needed any further proof of the rightness of his cause, yet it came nonetheless.
He stood and raised the ant-headed staff.
"FOR THE COLONY!" he roared.
"FOR THE COLONY!" the troops roared back.
Then, overflowing with righteousness and fury, they charged… leaving their shocked and bewildered ant allies behind.
-x-X-x-
It has always been a challenge to stand between the Colony and the outside world in matters of business and finance. In my heart of hearts, I am an ant, and I agree wholeheartedly with the way my siblings view money. Largely unnecessary, a sign of a lack of cooperation, or perhaps of an inherent selfishness, it's perfectly possible for a society to function without it.
A society of ants, at least.
This was the reason why the Colony would habitually seize riches from the wealthiest individuals whenever they conquered new territory. To them, any one person hoarding so many resources was simply selfish, and there was no reason for them to indulge such an individual when they didn't have to.
I have created vast fortunes for others in my dealings, caused some to become colossally wealthy through trade agreements with my family. I smile, and clack my mandibles happily, I share a cigar and clap them on the back as the papers are signed.
I like business, I enjoy commerce, it's all part of the great game.
But deep down, I do not like those people. They are selfish to the core, hoarding for themselves rather than distributing for the benefit of all. After all, I have no personal fortune of any kind. Everything goes to the family.
- Excerpt from the private notes of Merchant.
Battle raged in the tunnels below and all in Green Mountain were aware of it, to some extent. Word travelled quickly. Vibrations caused by the fighting could be felt at the guard stations and barracks in the lower reaches of the city.
Discussions rippled through Green Mountain, indecision and fear warring with anger and daring.
Should the remaining army sally forth and join the fighting? Should the delvers be dispatched to seek their revenge against the monster that had tormented them? Was it too risky? Was it necessary?
Ultimately, it was decided that meddling in the battle at this late hour would be more hindrance than help. With a Judgement Battalion and four thousand troops from the Mountain, they should have more than enough to get the job done.
Tense, unwilling to let this opportunity slip, some still pushed to be allowed out of the city, but were ultimately denied. The risks were too high, the need was too low. Instead, the majority were stood down, sent back to their beds as night fell over the city.
Lights were put out, windows drawn down, globes extinguished as the citizens of the Mountain went to sleep, uneasy, fearful of the battle raging below.
Of course, the Nameless didn't care for their worries or concerns. The Nameless came for one thing and one thing alone.
Delvers lived all over Green Mountain, not in any one place, district or borough, so the list of targets was long. Merchant had secured the needed addresses; anything could be purchased for the right price, after all.
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Shadows deepened to the purest black and stretched along the quiet streets, sliding down walls and creeping under doorways. Like water, they dripped and pooled, thickening until it was possible to glimpse the many-lensed eyes looking back out from within.
The first were taken without a whimper. They simply vanished, swallowed whole by the darkness, sinking into their beds or consumed by shadows that rolled over them like a breaking wave. Silent and unseen, the Nameless struck again and again, citizens of Green Mountain disappearing from within their houses, sometimes with their spouse asleep by their sides.
With thousands of targets and a very limited window of opportunity, this many Nameless had not been assembled for some time, yet they were prepared. They were always prepared.
Olivine Street has been cleared, one signed to the Nameless One.
All six targets? Did you ensure to capture Jacob Smith?
Of course.
And his landlady Josephine hasn't noticed?
Not yet.
Excellent. We move to Elm Street next. There are eight targets. Make sure to check your running list.
It was difficult to tell, sometimes, where the dimension of shadows ended and the real one began. Sitting on the border, the Nameless One felt she was in both and in neither at the same time. She sunk down once more, a pool of darkness that slid across the cobbled street, around the oak tree planted in the garden and higher up the Mountain.
Not this street, nor this one, but the next. From the shadow, she read the sign: Elm Street. This was it.
Silently, she gestured to the others, and they knew what to do, their targets having been determined well in advance. They moved as quietly as death and as secretive as the grave.
Eight ants, eight targets. In just a few minutes, they were secure, hapless delvers taken into the shadow realm and spirited away. Soon, they would emerge from the darkness, still asleep, within the tunnels, there to be transported back to the nest and into the comfortable beds that had been prepared for them.
Good work, the Nameless One signed. We have three more streets in this section of the city, then we move to the next neighbourhood. Be on your guard, the alarm will be raised any moment.
The others nodded, knowing their work, but aware that these things needed to be said.
As it turned out, the Nameless One had overestimated Green Mountain. They had almost finished their harvest before the alarm went out. Bells clanged and people shouted, running the streets with raised voices. Lights blazed indoors and the citizens were roused from their beds, alert and tense.
Well, the Nameless knew when they weren't welcome… they usually didn't care, but in this instance, they had promised the Eldest they would retreat once they became known. Like droplets running together to form a stream, the shadows gathered together as they raced down the mountain, gathering momentum and strength as they went. They slipped down drains, ran through gutters and underground cellars, down, down deeper until they reached the tunnels once more.
From there, they could never be caught. Too many shadows, too much darkness, and they were simply too good.
In just a few hours, their task was complete. Once more, they took up their posts within the nests, and if anyone had noticed they were gone, they wisely said nothing. If anyone noticed that the cells used to comfortably house the captives previously were somehow full once more… they doubly said nothing.
The Eldest had called on them for this task, knowing the shadows would be able to succeed while their senior created a distraction down below, and the Nameless would never refuse the call to action.
Their part was done, but that simply meant they would be able to return their focus to what was truly important. Eight hours were the mandate, and eight hours was what the Colony would have.
Whether they liked it or not.
-x-X-x-
I had made a simple plan, because, in my opinion, complex plans are about as useful as no plan at all. Solant would disagree, I get that, and maybe for her, it would be fine. For me? I know my limits. More importantly, I'm working with Tiny, and that idiot priest, and other people of questionable intelligence.
What would be the point in overcomplicating things?
Maybe I was a fool to think 'wait until I tire them out, then join the fight on my signal' would be easy enough for anyone to understand. How could it possibly be misinterpreted?! I just… I just don't see that there is any room for a mistake!
So why in the name of all things good and great in this world, like grubs, and tickling, and tickling grubs, are the humans charging out of formation, leaving the ants behind?!
Of course that idiot Beyn is in the lead. You only have one arm, you idiot! You don't even have a weapon! Or armour! Or, apparently, a brain!
Ugh.
Meanwhile, I'm over here getting the absolute heck battered out of me by ten thousand people! I have to say, I did not expect the sorts of shenanigans these folks have been able to produce. Lances made of light that seem to move at the speed of light was one thing, but the fire arrows as thick as my antennae being fired at me were unexpected. As was the golden bell of disorienting doom. Every time it bonged I felt like my brains were going to start leaking out of my non-existent ears.
Lightning pillars, I didn't see those coming, nor did I see the use of Force Magic to try and push me around and deflect my attacks. When I tried to use Starcrusher the second time, they tried to blast it straight back into my face. Clever, but not entirely successful.
They have a lot of techniques to try and disorient, slow and contain me, to tell the truth. It makes sense when I think about it. Directly fighting a monster like me? Unlikely! Wearing me down, restricting my movement, limiting my ability to use mana and gradually piling on the damage seems to be their style.
It's just not working.
For one, I'm not tired in the slightest. For two, I have an unbelievable reserve of mana to draw on. Trying to starve me out of arcane power is a futile endeavour. For three, my tendons are strong enough to take an empowered Dash now, so they can't hope to hold me down. No matter the chains of spirit light, the sudden bogs, the water dragons, or even the metal binding technique they use, the second I think things are getting hairy, I am outta there.
If I had to do it too many times, too close together, I'd be worried, but so far I've been able to hold steady.
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Being honest, though, I didn't expect them to be as successful as they were at putting damage on me. My carapace is no joke, and just hitting me is difficult, let alone hard enough to actually hurt me. The fact that they've been able to do so much is impressive.
Shame that none of it is enough to overcome my healing gland. Er, network. Whatever.
Which is going completely crazy, by the way. I think I must have maxed out the healing rate at some point, surely it can't get any higher than it is now, or perhaps I'm just completely numb on the inside, since my innards feel like they've been dipped in the arctic ocean in wintertime.
I'm cold!
Filled with disbelief, I'm not even dodging properly as I watch these idiot humans come charging over, waving their weapons like crazy people, clearly forgetting the plan.
Deeply irritated, all I can do is wave an antenna toward the waiting ants, who have maintained their formation, but are clearly confused. Seeing the signal, they too begin to charge, although they manage to not look insane as they do so.
[Tiny?]
[Punch?]
[Yes, Tiny. You can punch now.]
[Good!]
[And me, Master? Can I KILL AND MAIM THESE DISGUSTING—]
[No. No you cannot.]
[Well, can I use my magic and scare them a bit?]
[As we agreed, yes you can.]
Sheesh.
I'm sorry, army of people trying to kill me and harvest my organs for profit, I did my best to keep as many of you alive as I could, but some idiot priest went and ruined everything. If it's any consolation at all, I will scold him severely when I get back to the nest.
Filled with a sense of resignation, I do my best to dodge and maintain the Gravity Domain as Tiny roars from a distance. I can almost see the reaction ripple through the gathered troops. It isn't fear, not exactly, but they aren't happy to hear it. Nor are they happy to see him rapidly bounding toward them, his whole body wreathed in crackling lines of electricity.
And he looks so darned happy to be here.
When the tentacles erupt out of the ground and start snatching people up, that's when I think the fear begins to kick in. When Crinis starts unleashing her Curse Magic, it gets significantly worse. Having never seen her use it all that much, I'm not exactly sure what to expect, but the horrifying visages formed of black and purple mist that cackle through the air and plunge into people's chests are significantly worse than I thought it was going to be.
Everyone hit by the spell twists and shudders like a zombie, battling some internal foe as they try to keep on fighting.
Yikes! That's creepy…
When Tiny finally arrives at the battle, he does so with the force of a storm, battering into the ranks of troops with wild abandon, bolts of lightning crashing around him. At first I don't even notice Invidia riding on his shoulder, but the first detonation alerts me to his presence. It looks like he's casting a heck of a lot of shields, trying to keep his mount alive and leaving most of the devastating to Tiny.
This… this is going to go downhill fast.
-x-X-x-
Fatigue was beginning to seep into the War Bishop's bones as his mace seemed to gain weight by the second, adding to the throbbing pain in his wrist. Under normal circumstances, he could fight for a day without rest, but sticking close to the monster had necessitated that he be within its cursed Domain spell. Resisting its effect had taxed him considerably, and his ability to continue holding it off was declining at a rapid pace.
Sweat dripped down his face as he continued to fight, unaware of the snarl on his face or the hatred burning in his eyes. All that mattered was that they bring this damned monster down.
Troops from Green Mountain continued to rain hell down on the beast, spells and arrows constantly spearing into it with obscene force, sending shards of diamond carapace spinning into the air. Off balance, the monster spun, dancing on the spot as it parried and dodged with preternatural speed before it hunkered low for a half second.
Acting on instinct, Graham lunged to the side as light burst from the beast and it charged once more, disrupting their formation, knocking aside the soldiers who had attempted to lock it down, and forcing them to begin again. At least it hadn't gone far this time and he was able to catch up with only a single Dash.
Which plunged him back within the Domain once more.
Though his muscles screamed in protest, Graham did not relent and continued to feed the fire within, burning his own vital energy to maintain his strength. There had to be a sign of weakness from this thing, there had to be!
They'd been fighting for so long! He'd lost count of the number of times they had cracked and damaged its absurdly tough carapace, they'd even made it bleed!
Yet, no matter how he looked, there were no significant wounds on the monster at all. Regardless of how they damaged it, how much punishment they heaped upon it, that rapid regeneration never seemed to cease. Cracks began to seal the moment they were opened, chunks cut away regrew in a matter of minutes. Any time they managed to break through and injure the soft flesh beneath, it seemed to heal even faster!
Even worse, no matter how the monster fought, how it used its Skills and abilities, or how much mana it expended, it never seemed to run out. Despite all they had done, it was acting exactly the same now as it had when the fight had started, while the Judgement Battalion grew increasingly exhausted.
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It was clear now what the monster had wanted all along: it had never intended to fight them, only to weaken them.
When the ant's supporters screamed their battle cry and charged, Graham knew that things had taken a turn for the worse. When the Ape monster roared and revealed itself, he began to worry. When his own shadow erupted with tentacles that sought to drive themselves into his skull, he began to fear.
"Concentrate on the ant!" he roared. "We must bring it down!"
It was inconceivable that they should fail here. They were the hand of Judgement, the gavel of the Church and the arbiters of the light. Who would dare to walk the Path if they had no faith in its defenders? Not once had Graham failed to hunt his target, and he wasn't about to start now.
"Curse Magic! Watch out!" someone called.
"Suppress it!" Graham ordered. "Feed the flames!"
Hefting his mace, he concentrated internally for a brief moment, following his own orders as he fed more and more of his own vitality to the communal fire of the Battalion. Others did the same, pouring out what remained of their strength to fuel their brethren.
Strength surged through Graham and he held his mace aloft.
"Unleash the Sword of Judgement!"
So saying, he launched himself towards the ant. As long as they kept it still for a moment, it would be enough. No matter how tough, no matter how much it was able to endure, there had to be a limit, and Graham would find it, no matter the cost.
Roaring, he brought the mace down, light exploding from the weapon and swinging in a wide arc. As always, the ant reacted before he had even begun to swing, bringing its mandibles about and knocking his blow aside. It didn't matter, hundreds of others were doing the same thing, raining down strikes upon its carapace and legs even as their life force was drained out of them.
Light Shapers took hold of that energy and wove it, forming the enormous blade of blinding radiance directly over the head of the ant.
It knew what was coming, Graham was certain of it. How it knew didn't matter, only that it did.
"Go for the legs! Don't let it move!" he bellowed.
Hundreds answered his call, striking at the beast's six legs, desperate to keep it still.
For once, the ant did not bother to dodge, didn't leap, Dash or sidestep. Diamond shattered, ichor sprayed and muscle parted as the Judgement Battalion unleashed a torrent of blows.
Instead, the ant leaned back, raised its head towards the nearly complete blade twice the size of its own body that hung overhead, and opened its mandibles wide.
What came next, Graham could never fully hope to explain.
There was light.
Then there was darkness.
Then there was silence.
And then all became fire.