Chapter 39 – The Pride and the Hive
The city was never quiet, even at dawn.
Caravans rumbled along the main road beneath the colossal shadow of the stone canopy, merchants shouting over the hiss of sand-filters and the clatter of coin. In the deeper quarters—where the air grew thick with heat and the smell of oil—stood a broad, windowless hall carved straight into the stone. A sigil of a lion's head, mane ablaze in gold light, hung above the doors.
The Mercenary Association.
Blake looked up at it, whistling. "Finally, a place that smells like sweat and bad decisions."
Tamara didn't answer. Her hood was pulled low, pale hair tucked away, the frost aura she kept carefully sealed. She moved with quiet confidence—the kind that drew attention without meaning to.
Inside, chaos lived comfortably.
Hundreds of mercenaries crowded long tables, drinking, gambling, arguing over contracts. Walls were plastered with mission scrolls—some marked with gold ink, others crossed out in blood. Banners of mercenary crews hung from the rafters: The Iron Fang, Desert Vultures, Ash Hands, and dozens more.
Each group wore matching marks—colors, emblems, tattoos. The air pulsed with energy. Power signatures flared like small suns—E-rank Spiritualists, most of them between the first and fifth step.
Blake grinned. "Feels like home."
A voice behind him said, "Then you'll fit right in."
They turned.
A tall man with chestnut hair and sun-darkened skin stood with arms crossed, a greatsword strapped across his back. His armor was practical—bronze-reinforced leather, worn from sand and battle. His presence carried command without effort.
Rendal.
Five others stood with him:
– Mara, the shield-bearer, broad-shouldered and scarred, grin too sharp to be gentle.
– Kael, lean archer, calm eyes, perpetual half-smile.
– Lysa, bright robes and brighter expression, pink energy humming around her palms.
– Voss, shadow-walker, silent, half his face covered by a dark veil.
– Sera, the healer, green-haired, eyes soft but steady.
Together, they radiated the quiet unity of people who'd bled together too many times to count.
Blake straightened, instantly defensive. "We're just looking for the board."
Rendal's smile didn't reach his eyes. "So's half the hall. But you've got the look of people who'll live past your first contract." He nodded toward the boards along the far wall. "Start there. We'll see what you're made of."
Mara stepped forward, smirking. "New blood, huh? You two a pair or just lost?"
"Both," Blake said.
Tamara sighed. "Tamara." She offered her name like a fact, not an invitation.
"Blake," he added, with a grin sharp enough to annoy Mara on purpose.
Kael chuckled under his breath. "Brave. Or stupid."
"Usually both," Tamara murmured.
The tension broke with quiet laughter.
Rendal gestured toward the nearest board. "Pick carefully. The desert doesn't hand out second chances."
They walked together to the wall of parchment. Dozens of jobs fluttered under the breeze of enchanted fans: guard duty, monster exterminations, escort runs, artifact hunts.
One notice dominated the center of the board—inked in crimson.
Target: Scorpion Queen of the Western Hive
Rank: E-Step 3
Status: Active – High Bounty
Objective: Confirmed kill.
Blake froze. The name hit like a knife to the ribs.
Mara noticed. "You know her?"
He forced a smile that didn't quite land. "You could say we… met."
Rendal's eyes narrowed slightly, assessing. "Explain."
Blake looked away. "She caught me once. Didn't keep me."
That earned a long whistle from Kael. "You survived the Queen? People don't walk away from that."
Tamara folded her arms. "He didn't walk. He crawled."
"Still counts," Blake muttered.
Rendal studied them for another heartbeat, then turned to his team. "The Queen's been hunting caravans near the dunes for months. We take the contract tomorrow. You're welcome to tag along—if you can keep up."
Mara grinned. "Always room for extra swords."
Lysa added, teasingly, "Or ice. You do use ice, right?"
Tamara's expression didn't change. "Sometimes."
The healer Sera smiled kindly. "Then it's settled. Meet at dawn."
Blake opened his mouth to object, but Rendal had already turned away. "If you're joining the Pride," he said over his shoulder, "be ready to bleed like one."
The Hive
Dawn came pale and cruel.
They rode beneath the rising sun, eight silhouettes cutting across the dunes. By mid-morning, the black spires of the hive clawed up from the sand—a city of bone and resin, pulsing faint red beneath the light.
"Ugly as I remember," Blake muttered.
Tamara shot him a look. "You remember being almost eaten?"
"I try to keep the fun parts."
Rendal lifted a hand. The group halted at the ridge. "Masks on. We move in two columns. Mara with Kael. Voss, flank. Tamara, Blake—you're with me."
Blake exhaled. "Guess that makes us family."
"Try not to die," Rendal said. "It ruins the mood."
They descended into the hive.
Heat and humidity slammed into them like a wall. The air was thick, alive with faint vibration. The tunnels curved inward, glowing from veins of living resin. Their boots left wet prints behind.
Chittering echoed ahead.
"Company," Kael whispered.
Shadows scuttled across the walls. Dozens of scorpion soldiers poured from the cracks—half-human, half-insect, eyes burning orange. Their weapons were bone and venom, their movements perfect in sync.
Rendal didn't hesitate. "Form three!"
Mara's shield snapped forward, intercepting the first volley of stingers. Kael's arrows sang past her shoulder, pinning creatures to the walls. Tamara unleashed a wave of frost, turning sand to glass. The temperature plunged ten degrees in a breath.
Blake darted into the gap she created, daggers flashing. Every strike cut tendons, tails, joints. He moved like he'd been born for this chaos.
Voss's shadow tendrils pulled enemies into the dark. Lysa's light exploded behind him, bursting them into ash.
It was controlled violence. A rhythm.
When the last drone fell, the tunnel stank of venom and ozone.
Sera raised her staff, murmuring a short prayer. Pale green light washed over the group, mending shallow cuts and burns.
Rendal gave a curt nod. "Good work. We push on."
The Queen's Chamber
The deeper they went, the more the hive changed.
The resin turned glassy, reflecting distorted shapes. The heat thickened until even Tamara's frost hissed against it. Every sound they made came back doubled, like the hive was repeating them in whispers.
Then, suddenly—silence.
They entered a vast hall. Pillars of bone curved toward a ceiling that pulsed faint light. The floor was slick, the walls breathing.
And at the far end, upon a throne woven from gold-resin and bodies, sat the Scorpion Queen.
She was larger than Blake remembered—easily three times his height. Her human half looked carved from moonlight, flawless and cold; her scorpion body gleamed black-red, muscles shifting under chitin like molten glass. Her eyes burned twin suns.
When she smiled, it wasn't human.
"Oh… if it isn't my plaything."
Blake stiffened, daggers flashing up. "Keep talking, corpse."
She tilted her head, amused. "Still pretending you weren't warm once? I remember the way you trembled."
A shocked gasp ran through the Lion's Mane ranks.
Lysa whispered, "He didn't—"
Mara choked on a laugh. "He did!"
Kael groaned. "Tell me we're not killing your girlfriend."
"Ex-queen," Blake growled.
Rendal cut through their noise with a single word. "Focus."
The Queen rose from her throne, stinger twitching like a drawn bow. "You brought friends this time. How thoughtful. Shall I keep one?"
Rendal's tone was ice. "You'll keep nothing."
Then the hive screamed.
The Battle
Drones poured from the ceiling, a living storm of claws and venom. Lion's Mane moved as one—shields locking, blades flashing, light colliding with shadow.
Tamara's frost ripped through the air, sealing drones in glacial coffins. Her aura flared, white and cold, spreading like a winter tide through the burning hive.
"Push right!" Rendal barked.
Blake darted ahead, cutting down a pair of soldiers. "She's mine!"
"Not alone, she isn't," Rendal snapped, already behind him. His blade cleaved a drone in half before it reached Blake's back.
The Queen's tail struck like thunder. Mara blocked it, shield cracking under the force. Venom hissed against her armor. Kael's arrow hit the stinger mid-swing, pinning it to the wall.
The Queen shrieked, tearing free. "You dare!"
Tamara met her glare, frost swirling around her hands. "Yes."
A wall of ice erupted upward, slamming into the Queen's lower body. Frost spread over her chitin, slowing her movements.
"Now!" Rendal shouted.
He blurred forward, aura flaring gold. His sword blazed brighter than the hive's heart, cutting clean through the Queen's torso. The impact lit the chamber like sunrise.
The Queen screamed once—then fell silent.
Her body collapsed, shattering frost across the floor. The drones screeched and scattered, vanishing into the tunnels. The hive's glow dimmed, red fading to black.
Silence returned.
Only the sound of breathing and dripping venom remained.
Mara lowered her shield. "That's it? We actually did it?"
Kael nudged Blake. "Guess you're single again."
Lysa covered her mouth, half-laughing. "At least she died thinking about you."
Tamara's expression was unreadable. "You didn't."
Blake sheathed his blades. "You people never let anything die."
Rendal cleaned his sword on a scrap of silk, his tone even. "Collect the core. Burn the rest."
Sera's staff pulsed green, cleansing the air. The Queen's corpse cracked, revealing a glowing crystal the size of a heart. Tamara picked it up, frost gleaming along her wrist.
Outside, the desert waited—silent, endless, bright.
Behind them, the hive began to collapse, the sand swallowing it whole.
Rendal looked once over his shoulder. "One less nightmare in the dunes."
Blake exhaled, exhausted but grinning. "You say that like there's an end to them."
Rendal's lips twitched—the closest thing he gave to a smile. "If there is, we'll find it."
The Pride turned toward the dawn, their shadows stretching long behind them.
The Queen's scream faded beneath the wind, leaving only the hiss of sand and the quiet rhythm of their footsteps.