Victor waited patiently for everyone to leave before entering the first floor once more.
He had tried to make out the exact number of creatures present, but the endless clicking and scratching sounds made any estimation impossible.
He only knew one thing — there were many of them.
Too many.
Not to mention their size or the razor-sharp gleam of their mandibles.
Victor made the only logical decision: he called back the Symbiote, which had stayed in the room where Lucie was sleeping.
The action caused a sharp, throbbing pain to shoot through his skull — a consequence of the distance between them — but he ignored it.
He had no choice.
Numbers could only be countered by numbers.
Otherwise, he'd be overwhelmed.
So he waited, and barely a minute later, he could already hear the countless buzzing sounds that rivaled the rhythmic tapping of ant legs against the floor.
A swarm soon arrived at his side, floating quietly, awaiting their master's command.
Victor was finally going to see what his new companion was truly capable of.
Even if these creatures weren't built for battle, he knew better than to underestimate them — he simply didn't know how much they could do.
But he was determined to find out soon.
He didn't wait any longer; he knew the buzzing had already alerted the colony.
He lunged at the one that seemed to be standing guard and crushed it beneath his palm. Sickly green blood splattered across the wall with a nauseating crack as its shell was shattered under a force far too great for its frail body.
A few shards of chitin lodged themselves in his hand, but he paid them no mind.
[You have slain a Steel Jaw Ant (Lvl 7)]
Their level wasn't very high.
Which made sense — these creatures relied on collective strength rather than individual power.
And even if stronger ones existed, they wouldn't be standing guard.
They would be with the Queen.
The reaction didn't take long. Numerous shapes began emerging from the shadows at the far end of the corridor, rushing toward the intruder's location.
Victor could already count dozens as they kept pouring in.
He had to start cutting them down now — or he'd be buried under their numbers.
He gave a simple order to the Symbiote.
Fight.
He didn't know exactly what it could do besides concealment, so he avoided giving detailed commands, not wanting to hinder it with poor direction.
The swarm instantly shifted — the flies composing it separated, transforming into four distinct bodies.
Each was about twenty centimeters tall, their furry legs morphing into sharp spear-like limbs, their proboscises into long, flexible whips that shimmered with a metallic silver sheen.
They had no armor — only weapons.
But they didn't need armor. They were nothing more than a compact mass of insects that could assemble and disassemble at will, provided they had enough energy and numbers to sustain the form.
Victor was more than a little surprised by the transformation, which took only a few seconds.
He had to admit he had been very wrong.
These things knew how to fight.
They even displayed a kind of instinctive judgment — understanding that if they stayed as a single body, they would be overwhelmed.
It was a pleasant surprise for the boy.
And it opened up an endless stream of possibilities in his mind — ideas on how to make these things even more deadly.
Without waiting another moment, the four small creatures leapt into the fray.
What followed was a dance both hypnotic and lethal. The flies pierced through ants three times smaller than them with their bladed legs, their silver whips wrapped around the lifeless bodies of insects and hurled them into their kin.
Some ants tried to leap onto their exposed backs, only to be intercepted by another fly or sliced apart midair by razor-edged wings.
But the most terrifying part wasn't their power.
It was their coordination.
They were one body — one creature sharing the same mind, the same sensations, the same intent.
Every action, every tiny movement perceived by one was instantly known to all.
That's what made them so deadly.
But the ants didn't simply watch.
Bit by bit, they tore through the dipterans' forms, severing the flies composing them, gradually shrinking their size.
Despite that, Victor's lips stretched into a chilling smile — one only he could understand.
Every ant his swarm killed made him stronger.
He had already leveled up once without lifting a finger.
It was beyond anything he had hoped for.
He almost let his thoughts wander through the vast possibilities opening before him before snapping back to reality, remembering he was still in the middle of a fight.
Victor had planned to simply observe a bit longer, but it would be too great a loss if the Symbiote's size and strength dropped any further.
And he already had more than enough material to begin imagining countless ways to use his unwanted companion.
He decided to assist the Symbiote directly, targeting any ants he deemed capable of breaking through their defense.
He conserved his energy — he knew he would need it soon.
*
The scene unfolding in the corridor after several minutes was beyond words in its repulsiveness.
Dark green blood pooled into thick, dripping puddles. The bodies of ants, sliced apart or reduced to pulp, littered the once-white floor. All sorts of entrails and organs were smeared across the walls. The stench was unbearable.
At the center of it all stood a young boy with jet-black hair and eyes darker than night. His left arm hung limply at his side, while with his right hand he held a black insect by its antennae and tossed it into a pile of corpses stacked carelessly in a corner.
Beside him hovered the same swarm of countless tiny flies — though it now seemed to have lost nearly a third of its size after the battle.
He exhaled in relief.
« That was the last one? »
These creatures weren't particularly strong — nothing compared to the Shadow Cat he and Lucie had faced two days earlier.
But their sheer numbers were terrifying, as evidenced by the staggering amount of bodies around him.
If Victor had to guess, there were around fifty of them.
Only a few bite marks dotted his body, most of them on his useless left arm, which he now used as a last-resort shield.
He had leveled up several times throughout the fight, reaching level seventeen with ease.
The boy no longer saw this colony as an enemy.
He saw it as treasure — a simple means to grow stronger.
He had only planned to come here and take what they needed to make their improvised flamethrowers. But the instant these creatures appeared, his plan had changed completely.
Now, he wanted to exterminate them to the last.
He could still hear movement coming from the upper floor — no doubt where the Queen and her stronger guards were holed up.
How much stronger would he become after that?
He would soon find out.
He had completely forgotten about the group he had come with earlier — they had instantly faded into the background of his thoughts.
After all, the most important person in Victor's life was none other than himself.
Everything else was secondary. Optional.
Utterly negligible.
*
The boy climbed the stairs to the final floor, no longer caring about the noise his shoes made against the concrete.
They already knew he was coming.
After all, he had just slaughtered nearly their entire colony.
There was no point in being discreet.
A faint bluish glow illuminated a room a few dozen meters ahead.
No doubt — that was the Queen's chamber.
He approached until he could see inside.
The ceiling, walls, and floor were coated with a black organic substance — an absurd mixture of chitin and flesh, human flesh. Dozens of small, dark cocoons, resembling the ants' carapaces, clung to the walls and ceiling. Dark veins pulsed in unison, like umbilical cords, all converging toward the grotesque forty-centimeter-long creature lying on its back, its massive stinger pointing upward.
The Queen — without a doubt.
At her side, five ants stood guard before the only entrance, waiting for the intruder who had dared to invade their new nest.
These ants were nothing like the ones Victor had faced before. They were several times larger, their dense carapaces lined with pulsing veins. Their mandibles looked powerful and sharp enough to slice through metal — or through Victor's bones.
He was beginning to regret coming here.
Even if the Queen appeared immobilized and unable to move, those guards alone were enough to make him fear for his life.
But he recovered in less than a second.
A faint, mocking smile curved his lips.
« Since when do I fear for my life? »
It was foolish.
As he always told himself — if he were to die today against these things, then so be it.
If he won, then he'd get to admire the sun tomorrow.
Nothing more. Nothing less.