《The Unmaker》 Chapter 1 - The Make-Whatever There were only two things that made Dahlia more nervous than giant man-eating bugs: going to school, and going home from school. She¡¯d already gone to school. Now she was clutching her backpack straps and standing before the front door of her dingy, ramshackle wooden house at the edge of the subterranean town¡ªand the door was already swung wide open, barely hanging off its rusty hinges. Her stomach clenched painfully as she tried to summon the courage to walk in. ¡­ It¡¯ll be okay. It¡¯ll be okay. Today, he¡¯ll¡­ he¡¯ll be feeling a bit better. Her pulse pounded in her ears as she tiptoed into her house. Looking around the dark and gloomy living room calmed her a little. The dining table to the side may be covered in dust and cobwebs, but at least the chairs were still where she¡¯d left them last night. The window shutters were bolted shut, the air in the house suffocating with heat as usual. Unwashed fabrics and tunics lay in messy heaps across the scratchy floorboards, but at least she could kind of see the path someone could take to go from the front door to the smaller bedroom at the back¡ªnot that anyone living here had slept in any bed the past two years. She much preferred flaking out on the bedroom study desk, while her dad was¡­ Asleep at the very end of the living room on the old sofa riddled with holes, his back turned towards her. He wasn¡¯t snoring. He hardly moved these days, but that didn¡¯t mean he had any good sleep; as far as she knew, his sickness had turned him into an insomniac, and there wasn¡¯t anything she could do to alleviate his discomfort. A cold sweat beaded down her forehead. Her throat felt a little tight as she thought about just creeping past him to get to the bedroom, and she did try¡­ for about half a second, before her breath caught on the sack of unopened staples she¡¯d bought for him earlier this morning. Did he¡­ not eat anything the entire day? Cooking wasn¡¯t particularly her strong suit, but she¡¯d learned to manage the past two years for the both of them. She dumped her schoolbag off to the side as she picked up an eggplant from the sack, biting into it. It didn¡¯t explode in flavour like she hoped it would, but the ingredients would have to do. ¡°... Sallet¡¯s here, dad!¡± she called out over her shoulder, giving all the vegetables a good wash, dicing them into tiny chunks with a dull kitchen knife, and then slamming everything into a bowl with a pinch of sugar added into the mix. Her dad didn¡¯t respond. Gulping hard, she tried again. "I... um, I took out all the okras. Digestible. And the light sugar shouldn¡¯t be too hard on your stomach, too,¡± she mumbled, biting her lips as she approached him slowly from behind with the bowl of sallet, careful not to slip on any of the unwashed fabrics. ¡°I also added in some¡­ um, eggplants. That exotic food merchant from the next undertown over came by a week ago, so I just bought a whole bunch of them and¡­ I, um, think they¡¯re tasty. Sweet. You should try.¡± She had to kneel once she reached the sofa, and when her dad still didn¡¯t respond, she placed a gentle hand on his shoulder¡ªtapping as lightly as she could. Still no response. ¡°You¡­ you have to eat something, dad,¡± she whispered, shaking his shoulder a bit harder, a bit more forceful. Her bowl-holding hand was trembling a little. She knew he wasn¡¯t asleep, so surely he could have a bite or two, right? ¡°You might not believe me, but Instructor Biem¡¯s worried about you. Truth. He told me yesterday that if I¡¯m just going to skip out on afterschool bug-slaying training and come home early every day, I should make you an afternoon snack or¡­ something. Nutritious. But this is the best I can do without proper ingredients, so¨C¡± It came like a hammer. His backfist smashed into her metal bowl and knocked it into the walls, spilling the vegetables; rats immediately skittered out from between the heaps of fabric to chew on their feast. Shivers rippled down her spine, goosebumps raised over her skin. She panted for breath and shimmied away from the sofa as her dad rolled over briefly to glare at her¡ªand the blank, nigh-inhuman stare in his amber eyes made her skin crawl all over once again. His mutation sickness was flaring up again. He was becoming more and more inhuman. Every bone in her body was screaming at her to run away, to leave before he could try to hit her again or do something even worse, but¡­ His eyes suddenly twitched as he seemed to realise what he¡¯d done. His lips twitched as though a word was forming on the tip of his tongue, but he didn''t get up from his sofa. Instead, he rolled back over promptly, and snuggled himself even deeper into the broken sofa. ¡°Leave¡­ me alone,¡± was all he managed to rasp. ¡­ The gulp she forced herself to swallow disappeared quite quickly as she scrambled to her feet, rushing into the bedroom and hooking the door shut with a loud slam. He¡¯s fine. He¡¯s okay. At least... he¡¯s still healthy enough to talk. She breathed into her hands and tried to steady herself, thinking good thoughts, happy thoughts. ¡­ Don''t give up on him. I need more silvers for fresh ingredients. Sallet tastes disgusting with old vegetables, after all. And the Night Bazaar opens in¡­ ten minutes? She looked up from her hands and forced herself to exhale. The drab three-by-three-metre bedroom was supposed to be shared between three people, but for two years now she¡¯d staked her claim over it without her dad challenging her. So, she¡¯d kept only four pieces of furniture in the room¡ªthe gloomy closet, the box of crafting tools on the study desk, and the small chair in front of the desk that gave her a good look of the undertown outside the broken window. She wobbled over and threw the closet open, a small smile rising on her face as she saw the boxes of scrap lining every shelf. They weren¡¯t really ¡®scrap¡¯ to her, after all. She pulled out one of the scrap boxes and plopped herself on the chair, flicking the little cage on the desk to wake the firefly inside. Alshifa, where she lived, was a subterranean ¡®undertown¡¯, so fireflies had to be aglow every hour of the day or nobody would ever get to see a thing¡ªand her house was particularly gloomy, far from the bustling New District in the town centre with all its bright braziers and council-installed firefly lamps. Maybe she¡¯d be better off working somewhere she didn¡¯t have to constantly exhaust the lifespan of her own pricey firefly, but it was impossible for her to do her job when someone was watching her. She''d be too much of a nervous wreck to get anything done. And her unofficial job, as a ¡®Swarmsteel Maker¡¯, was making magical equipment out of insect parts. ¡­ That pocket watch should be close to finishing. If I can get it done before the Bazaar opens, I can probably sell it for... ten? Maybe twenty silvers? Reaching into the scrap box, she pulled out a small chrome mantis scythe, a glassy butterfly veil, and a few plates of flattened ant carapaces, laying them out across the desk. Then she swiped her unfinished pocket watch from the side, laying it down next to a chisel and tuning needle. She¡¯d run into a bit of trouble last night when she tried using a hornet¡¯s needle as the watch''s long second hand¡ªthe needle just wouldn¡¯t turn smoothly¡ªso today, she figured maybe a mantis scythe would be worth a try. Okay, she thought, clapping her cheeks to wake herself up. I¡¯ll give myself¡­ one minute today. Finish it in a minute. She thumbed the dial of the spare pocket watch hung around her waistband, and the rhythmic ticks sent her mind into a world of its own¡ªher hands immediately moved on their own. First, she reached into her pocket and popped a small bloodberry candy into her mouth. Then she leaned forward in her chair, fingers pressing the malleable ant carapaces into shapes of little gears before fitting each one where they should be. Now, she¡¯d already made dozens and hundreds of pocket watches before, but the shoppers in the Bazaar always wanted new designs. Prettier designs, flashier designs. Selling interesting trinkets she could make out of insect parts was her job, and it was how she could still afford relatively healthy ingredients for her and her dad''s daily meals. She didn''t want to leave anything in her scrap box to waste. Tick, tock, forty seconds left. She propped up the watch with a chisel, putting a hand under her chin as she stared at the mantis scythe. When she¡¯d bought the part from the wandering bug trader a month ago almost as an afterthought, she didn¡¯t think its serrated edges would ever look good as a second hand, but on closer inspection... she felt they¡¯d look smooth in circular motion. The tip was slightly curved, and it¡¯d be like a blade trailing through a soft bed of sand¡ª so she took a small pin and jammed it through the end of the scythe, screwing the whole thing onto the watch. Then, her eyes lit up in excitement. The scythe as the second hand was spinning perfectly. Tick, tock, twenty seconds left. She flipped the watch over with one hand and picked up the glassy butterfly veil with the other, trying to figure out how to fold it to get the best wrinkles and the best patterns for the back decoration. A plain watch wouldn¡¯t sell for much, even if it was made of insect parts. A bit of artistry was the difference between hard bread or sweet potatoes for breakfast. Aimlessly, she folded the veil a few times before deciding on draping folds¡ªto mimic the tails of fancy undertown dresses¡ªand her ears perked, her eyelids fluttering open and close like autohammers. Her eyes watered as she stared so intensely down at the watch to make sure her bruised fingers wouldn¡¯t mess up the folds, but without much time left, without much time at all¨C Ding! She dropped the watch with a sharp cling, kicked back in her chair, and let out a heavy breath she didn¡¯t know she¡¯d been holding. The watch was done. The circular rim was made of grippy, reinforced wood, and the gears made of half ant carapace, half beetle chitin. The mantis scythe second hand alone was worth more than its weight in ten silvers, and with the glassy butterfly veil wrapped around the back, she felt the watch was opulent enough of an accessory that she¡¯d probably be able to put food on the table for the next five¨C maybe eight days, if that wandering bug trader who promised he¡¯d be here tonight was more generous than usual. Maybe he¡¯d even trade her some spare parts alongside the usual he paid her for her trinkets. Not bad, she thought, turning the watch over and over in her hand. Maybe I can get fifteen, twenty silvers for this? That¡¯ll be more than enough for the week. Fresh ingredients should make dad a bit more energetic as well. She rubbed her eyes and peered out the window as she did, seeing dots of braziers beginning to light in the distance. The Night Bazaar was about to open. Gotta go quick. Shoving all the important parts back into the box and kicking everything else into the closet, she sprang up from her chair and climbed out through the window¡ªtripping over the windowsill and falling flat on her already bandaged nose. ... Ow. She groaned with her face down in the ashen soil, her body aching all over, but she managed to muster enough strength to crawl to her feet. She had to run and cradle her latest watch like her life depended on it¨C her life did depend on it. If she wasn¡¯t first to the Bazaar, it¡¯d take her ages to get to the front of the queue that wandering bug trader always had to entertain, and she still had to go to the Bug-Slaying School early tomorrow morning. She had to get home and get early sleep. Keeping her head low, she left her house behind and sprinted down the rickety stairs to the bottom of the hill, sliding down poles and balancing across wooden beams here and there. The view of the subterranean undertown was nothing less than downtrodden as usual; there were hundreds of tightly packed houses made of stone, pillars of smoke swirling from their chimneys, and the further she left the Old District where her house was, the brighter and prettier the scenery. Rotten planks were replaced by smooth clay floor tiles near the town centre, and bioluminescent bluish-pinkish flowers were growing in pots across the streets. The beating heart of Alshifa¡ªthe New District¡ªwas where most people in the undertown lived, after all. As she neared the Night Bazaar, crowds of shoppers and merchants were already forming, the streets littered with food carts, grills, and kiosks selling all types of insect merchandise. She slipped into the crowd, trying to weave between a group of turbaned traders, but the town centre was just flooded with people at this time of day; the slightest wobble to either side would make her bump shoulders with someone else, and she couldn¡¯t even see a few metres ahead of her. Isn¡¯t it already six? Seven? She grumbled under her breath as the crowd pushed her around, suffocating her in their heat. Please just go home and eat dinner. I have to... I have to sell my stuff to him. She¡¯d recognise the wandering bug trader even through this crowd of people, of course. The man was tall, and usually draped from head to toe in a worn-out butterfly mantle. Sheathed on his belt would be his trusty curved blade, antlion mandible-made, and behind him would be the giant hand-pulled carriage he was more than capable of dragging alone. He was a man clad in high-level Swarmsteel, after all; a single well-fitting piece of Swarmsteel armour made of high-quality insect parts could augment a human¡¯s body enough that they could withstand even a meteorite landing on them¡­ or so she was told. In a small undertown like Alshifa, Swarmsteel of such quality would never show in any travelling merchant¡¯s wares. So, she liked to think her hand-crafted insect watches were just a little bit valuable, even if they weren¡¯t exactly Swarmsteel that could boost anyone¡¯s attributes. You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. Feeling anxious, she clutched her watch closer to her chest and tried hopping in place to look over the sea of heads, but she was short¡ªeven by fourteen-year-old standards in Alshifa, she was almost half a head under her peers, and then bony on top of that. Butchers on their way to the grills shoved her and pushed her out of the way as she started blocking the flow of the crowd, and now she felt a little dizzy. Her fingers were still pulsing. Her nose was still aching. That fall on her face hurt a lot more than she¡¯d thought. Squeezing over to a side alley where the crowd was much thinner, she heaved and groaned and climbed atop a small crate to see if she could spot the wandering bug trader over the sea of heads. When she found no success again, her face fell and her pulse began picking up. ¡­ Where are you, mister trader? There was no way he wasn¡¯t here tonight. He¡¯d promised her a month ago, during the last Bazaar, that he¡¯d be back tonight¡­ and with something super, super special on top of that. In his own words, it was ¡®something she wouldn¡¯t be able to keep her hands off of¡¯. Come to think of it, though, for how many times she¡¯d dealt with him over the course of the past two years, she didn¡¯t really know anything about him¡ªwhat his face looked like, what his name was, which undertown he came from. How he got his hands on the insect parts he¡¯d always bring with him was a mystery, too. Maybe he was one of those rare breed of people courageous enough to brave the insect-ruled apocalyptic wasteland that was the surface world. Maybe he was one of those people strong enough to survive it. Had something gone wrong on one of his harvesting trips? Was he alright? He wouldn¡¯t tell her he¡¯d be here this month, on this night, if he wasn¡¯t planning on keeping his promise¡­ right?Right? ¡­ ¡­ Maybe¨C ¡°Don¡¯t stand up there, Make-Whatever. You¡¯ll fall and hurt yourself.¡± A voice came from below, and then two metal mantis scythes swiped her feet out from under her. She fell. Suddenly. She fell into warm eyes not a single second later with her eyes squeezed shut, and the dark-haired boy flicked her on her forehead with a teasing chuckle. She was promptly let go to wobble around for a moment before the fourteen-year-old boy grabbed her by her wrist¡ªpulling her out of the alley and into the thinner crowd where his friends were waiting. ¡°Issam!¡± Dahlia hissed, almost letting go of the watch as the boy dragged her forward unwittingly. ¡°Don¡¯t¡­ let go! Of me! I¡¯m gonna fall!¡± ¡°Don¡¯t let go? Okay. That I can do.¡± Issam laughed back, pulling her into his fold. She scowled at him for only a moment longer before looking around his friends. All five of them were her classmates at the Alshifa Bug-Slaying School, so naturally, they were all wearing the same dark-toned uniform and feathery shawl as her¡­ and that was where their similarities ended. As the second strongest student in their school, Issam was a fair bit taller than her, lean but muscular, and the Swarmsteel mantis scythes he¡¯d equipped behind his shoulders were currently folded like the straps of a backpack. His skin was darker than most, his short and swirly hair more unkempt than most, but that was only proof of all the effort he put into training his bug-slaying skills. He spent more time training than anyone else. She averted her eyes from the other four students he was with. She didn¡¯t really know them too well, after all, but she did know their names. Aylee and Ayla were identical twins, and with their small but cutesy statures, they were easily the most notorious tricksters in the school. Nobody ever knew what prank to expect from them walking into the classroom every morning. Compared to them, the remaining two senior students who¡¯d both been held back a year¡ªgloomy and expressionless Jerie, who always kept his low-profile and spoke in mutters, and the ever-scowling Amula with a strong but prideful, perhaps a little too shapely body every girl in town envied¡ªactually looked relatively tame for once. Not that Dahlia wasn¡¯t intimidated, of course. She¡¯d never spoken a single word with them for good reason. ¡­ They¡¯re so bright. Issam and his friends were at the top of their year. Top of their school. They¡¯d grow to be magnificent bug-slayers, sent to garrison in other undertowns closer to the surface, and they¡¯d be hailed as heroes of humanity for the decades to come. Thinking about how proud their parents must be made her chest clench, and she tried bolting into the crowd¡ªto no avail, of course. Issam¡¯s grip wasn¡¯t so weak that a barely-passing-her-classes bug-slayer like her could squirm out of it. ¡°Let¡¯s walk together!¡± he chirped, in that overly familiar sing-songy tone as usual, and began leading her deep into the Bazaar. The twins started chatting behind them, Amula walked with her arms crossed behind her head, Jerie was fiddling with a wooden flute so newly bought it still had its coloured paper tag attached to it. Dahlia opened her mouth to protest¡ªIssam immediately placed a finger to her lips, closing an eye as he gave her a teasing look. ¡°I hear that bug trader you always frequent is here to visit today, isn¡¯t he? I¡¯d like to meet him for once. You know, the merchant whose insect parts are so good the Make-Whatever only sources her components from him.¡± She grumbled under her breath, letting him drag her along for now. ¡°Don¡¯t¡­ call me that. Wrong. I can¡¯t make whatever I want.¡± ¡°Sure you can,¡± he countered. ¡°The things you make may not be particularly useful in slaying giant bugs, like my whetstone mantis scythes or like Ayla and Aylee¡¯s cicada mantles, but pocket watches are always nice to have. It can be quite hard to tell the time down here sometimes without sunlight¡­ even if knowing the exact time doesn''t really matter all that much. Look. I still have the one you gave me for free a year ago.¡± He turned to her briefly and reached into his pocket, showing her the shoddy gear dangling off a loose silver chain. She couldn¡¯t help but notice it was very well taken care of. Dusted, polished, that might even be a glint of beeswax he¡¯d brushed over the reinforced wood to keep it sweet-smelling. His proud smile made her blush a little. ¡°I didn¡¯t¡­ I didn¡¯t give it to you for free,¡± she pointed out, shoulders swaying. ¡°You bought it from me for fifty silvers. Overpriced. Your dad must¡¯ve yelled at you.¡± ¡°I¡¯d be a cheat if I didn¡¯t pay fifty for something this high quality, you know?¡± he said, pulling and leading her into the main square where merchants and traders gathered in the dozens around the central water fountain. ¡°Now, now, point me to that bug trader you always buy your parts from. I¡¯d like to thank him personally for always supplying our Make-Whatever with parts even our school¡¯s Instructors are surprised could make their way down into Alshifa. Who knows, you may just have a good eye for seeing untapped potential in simple, dull-looking insect parts!¡± ¡°Stop.¡± He tilted his head, sticking a tongue out at her. ¡°Oh? Did I annoy you? Come on, make an irritated face for me, then.¡± He laughed again, poking her nose as he tried eliciting a reaction from her, and she groaned while trying her best to pull away. ¡°You don¡¯t look so good today, you know? Did Raya beat you up too hard during one-on-one sparring? That quiet bastard, I¡¯ll show him the day after when it¡¯s my turn to beat his ass, so¨C¡± ¡°Just look for a tall man wearing a moth mask,¡± she mumbled, taking the topic somewhere else. ¡°He¡¯s like¡­ this tall. A bit taller than Amula. Broad shoulders. He has this antlion curved blade on his belt, inlaid with a red quartered gemstone, but his voice is very silky. Pretty. Once you hear it you won¡¯t ever forget it.¡± Issam pursed his lips and feigned a sulk. ¡°An even prettier voice than mine?¡± She scowled back at him, finally managed to jerk her hand out of his grip. ¡°If you¡¯re like a worm, then he¡¯s like a luna moth.¡± ¡°I¡¯ve no idea what a luna moth is.¡± "It''s... whatever." His cheerfulness was overbearing as usual, but¡­ it wasn¡¯t too bad. The two of them used to hang out quite often when they were children since they lived near each other, but that changed two years ago when she¡¯d stopped going to school as much to stay home with her sickly dad. It was¡­ an amicable distancing. And she¡¯d thought not going to school as much would significantly widen the distance between them, but evidently he hadn''t been too keen on that idea. She couldn¡¯t remember the last time he¡¯d not tried to drag her off to god knows where whenever he saw her out in town. It¡¯s okay to have other eyes helping me look for that bug trader, I guess. ¡°Jerie! Amula! Help Dahlia look for a tall, moth-mask-wearing man around here! He¡¯s the guy who always sells her the parts she uses for her little trinkets!¡± Issam said, whirling to address the two seniors. Jerie dipped his head slowly while Amula didn¡¯t even give a blink of a response, instead glaring straight at her as she turned in an attempt to give them all a grateful nod. Scary. She shivered. Does she hate me for hanging around Issam all the time, after all? He¡¯s super popular, after all. She¡¯d really, really like to know why Issam was still being so friendly to her, when everyone else in school had already come to the correct conclusion that she was downright useless as a bug-slayer¡ªshe was short, her fighting instincts were null, and she couldn¡¯t risk taking hits with weak muscles and brittle bones¡ªbut even the thought of asking him that question was making her stomach swirl. Did she really, really, really want to know why he¡¯d always stuck around her, or could she not be content with what they had right now? ¡°... There!¡± she said, raising her voice a little as she tugged on his sleeve. The rest of the group looked where she was pointing, seeing the man himself for the first time. The bug trader had just evidently gotten into town, because a long line had yet to form before his carriage and his back was turned towards the crowd. He was too busy unloading boxes and flipping latches and opening his travelling shop to notice her sprinting towards him, arms swinging faster than her legs could move. Issam and the others sprinted after her, shouting at her to wait for them. She didn¡¯t care. If she had to wait in line just because she didn¡¯t run, then she would run, like her life depended on it¨C And a metal scorpion tail unfurled from under the bug trader¡¯s mantle, wagging its stinger as though telling her not to get any closer. ¡°... No need ta rush, little Maker. Don¡¯t they teach kids here not ta run up ta someone with treasures ta guard?¡± the man said, as he turned for the briefest moments to give her a wink; his moth lenses for eyes closing its shutters with the motion. ¡°I¡¯ll be here all night, just for you, so not ta worry. ¡®Early bird gets the worm¡¯ is still true where I come from. Just wait ¡®till I unload everything first, yeah?¡± ¡°I¡¯ll help!¡± She offered, stepping past his scorpion tail to pick up one of the boxes. Issam moved in as well, and this time the bug trader sent him a strong, puzzled look. ¡°And who might you be, young man?¡± he asked, looking Issam up and down. ¡°I don¡¯t recall ever seeing you around the Bazaar. You the little Maker¡¯s honeymoon fly? Her mate for life?¡± ¡°No, sir. Just a friend at school, here to help out the man who¡¯s always been helping her out by selling only the best of the best,¡± Issam replied perfectly, not losing his stride for a single second as he picked up four boxes, two in his hands and two with his mantis scythes. While Dahlia clenched her jaw at the idle teasing comments, the bug trader chortled in amusement. ¡°Oho, would you look at that?¡± he said, his moth mask lenses zooming in on Issam¡¯s Swarmsteel. ¡°Planted on your spine, jagged ridges smoothened¡­ those are whetstone mantis scythes that let you sharpen your sword on-the-fly, eh? They give kids like you Swarmsteel like that nowadays?¡± ¡°Yes, sir. But I am the second best student in school, and the Instructors let only us fifth-years hold onto our Swarmsteel even outside of school, so we can carry them around and get used to them twenty-four seven.¡± ¡°Interesting, interesting. It¡¯s no fourth-rate Swarmsteel at all, what you¡¯ve got on your back. Mind, it¡¯s not half as interesting as what the little Maker brings me every time I come around, but... it¡¯s close. Good enough for a kid.¡± Issam puffed his chest and smirked. ¡°Right? Our Make-Whatever makes the best trinkets in town, you can be sure of it, Now you¡¯ll buy the pocket watch she¡¯s brought you today for a high price, won¡¯t you?¡± The bug trader cracked his spine with a heavy groan and turned, finishing setting up store. ¡°Well, that depends on what she¡¯s got ta show ta me,¡± he said, before leaning back against his carriage with his gaze fixed solely on her face. ¡°A pocket watch again, little Maker? What¡¯d you do ta it this time? What interesting spin did you add ta it this time?¡± She held her watch out to him proudly with both hands, and he took it gingerly with his scorpion tail. ¡°The second hand is an orchid mantis scythe, the array made of carebara ant carapaces, and the backing folds are made of a few sheets of glassy butterfly veil! Assembled! You still can¡¯t unwind the time by turning back the hours and minute hands, but you can turn the dial on the side to make the second hand count down from one minute! Once the time¡¯s up, it¡¯ll make a noise sharp enough to frighten flea beetles, and¨C¡± ¡°And the firefly extract in the bulb will light up, permanent use, because you added sun beetle extract into the bulb this time that can gather the second hand¡¯s movement and turn it into heat,¡± he murmured, inspecting the t watch from top to bottom, link to rim, before lowering it with his lenses forming a crescent smile. ¡°Not bad at all, little Maker, not bad at all. You get more and more skilled every time I come around. How about a hundred¡­ no, a hundred and fifteen silvers for it?¡± The twins chattering in the back stopped talking all of a sudden, and Dahlia¡¯s eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. ¡°A hundred and fifteen silvers?¡± she repeated, as the bug trader immediately stuffed her pocket watch into a compartment behind him, his other hand scrounging around in another compartment for his coffer. ¡°I can¡¯t¡­ I mean, that¡¯s enough to pay for two weeks¡¯ worth of food! Gratitude! Thank you! I¡­ I don¡¯t know what to-¡± ¡°A Maker¡¯s gotta be rewarded for the time they spend on even something as ¡®insignificant¡¯ as a watch. A hundred and fifteen silvers is a steal for how much I¡¯ll be selling it for in another undertown, but, hah, a mantis stalking a cicada is unaware of the spider behind it. You should be setting your prices higher, you know?¡± Her eyes lit up. ¡°Really?¡± ¡°Really.¡± ¡°Then, can I¨C¡± ¡°No take-backs, little Maker. Here¡¯s your pay,¡± he said, tossing her a whole jar of silver coins she struggled to catch without taking a step back. While the twins darted right behind her and Issam started rubbing her head for a job well done, the bug trader continued searching for something inside his carriage, mumbling under his breath the entire time. ¡°There¡¯s something special I want ta throw in as an extra for you, but, like, where the hell did I put it? I couldn¡¯t have forgotten ta stuff in it alongside the usual parts, could I? Bah. I need a bigger carriage.¡± Issam stopped rubbing Dahlia¡¯s head for a moment to frown at the bug trader. ¡°It¡¯ll be hard for you to pull your carriage if you get one any bigger, right? I don¡¯t know how much space you realistically need to do your business, but you probably just need to organise all your stuff better." The bug trader chuckled softly. ¡°Ah, you¡¯re right about that. I don¡¯t need much more space if it¡¯s just ta store my wares.¡± ¡°Right? Then, just have us help you out a little with the organisation. I bet we can-¡± ¡°I¡¯d need a bigger carriage if I want ta carry a little Maker around with me, though.¡± Issam¡¯s face blanked. And so did the rest of the group. Among the catalogue of their expressions that Dahlia had created in her head, she couldn¡¯t form a conclusion as to what, exactly, they might be thinking about¡ªbut it was probably something along the lines of ¡®our useless, tiny little Make-Whatever?¡¯, more or less. And she immediately started fidgeting as Issam had her pinned under his gaze, his face bereft of any of his usual cheekiness. ¡°I¡¯m not¡­ I can¡¯t go with you, mister,¡± she whispered, her heart growing heavy in her chest, her nails scratching at her bruises. Anything to distract herself from Issam¡¯s powerful eyes. ¡°I¡¯m¡­ happy. That you like my watches. But, really, they¡¯re nothing special, and if I leave, it¡¯ll be troublesome for everyone. I have school. I have homework. I¨C¡± ¡°I can give your sickly father enough money ta live comfortably for the rest of his life, no problem,¡± the bug trader countered smoothly, still scrounging through his compartments with his back turned to her. His scorpion tail was wagging at her as though trying to cut her a deal. ¡°It¡¯s a different sorta life travelling through the tunnels, but for a little Maker like you, it¡¯s the only way you can get any better with your hands. You gotta make new stuff, you gotta touch new stuff. Soon I¡¯ll run out of interesting parts I can realistically carry down here for you, and your hands will stagnate. That¡¯s no good at all for a little Maker, don¡¯t you think? So leave that deadbeat father of yours behind and¨C¡± ¡°He''s not like that, mister," she breathed. "Don''t... don''t talk bad about my dad." ¡°...¡± The silence from the bug trader was even heavier. Even more painful. She could practically feel the disappointment washing over him from head to toe now, as his hands stopped moving for a few seconds, maybe even a whole minute¡ªthe quiet was palpable, and it only made her bite her lips even harder. But the bug trader resumed moving after a few more moments, and he pulled his scorpion tail back under his mantle. ¡°... Well, that¡¯s alright as well. I¡¯ll come around and ask you again next month, like I have every month in the past two years,¡± he said, as he grunted and stuffed an entire arm into a compartment, his metal antennae perking in excitement. ¡°Ah! Here it is! The spare! Now, it won¡¯t be like any insect part you¡¯ve seen before, so I¡¯d like ta spend the rest of the night telling you all about it¡­ after I entertain all the other customers, of course! You do know there¡¯s quite a line forming behind you, yeah?¡± She turned briefly to look at the line of irritated townsfolk and shuffled the jar of coins in her arms, getting a better grip on it. ¡°Sorry for hogging your time. I¡¯ll, uh, be back in a bit, then? I have to buy food for my dad first because everything fresh might be selling out soon.¡± ¡°Not ta worry, little Maker. I¡¯ll be here. Take as long as you need¨C¡± The stone ceiling over their heads groaned. Cobwebs began falling, dryer than dust, filling her lungs as she breathed. Then, light leaked in through a crack in the stone. ¡­ In one place, then another, then another. Seven, eight, nine rays of cold, pasty light pierced down like pillars, and shudders of fear festered amongst the people of Alshifa. The groaning in her ears, in particular, was a howling torrent. Maybe it was Issam who said something, or the twins who made an easygoing joke, but if they did she heard nothing. Her eyes and ears were transfixed on the lights that seemed as though they were illusions of a brighter world¡ªhere to taunt them, and here to show them what they were all missing out on. But tonight, they were not going to miss out on anything anymore. She heard the sounds of earth moving, stone cracking, and decades upon decades of accumulated sediment compressing under the weight of something colossal¡ªand then a giant black cocoon fell through. Chapter 2 - The Swarm ¡­ It was a particularly dark night when they first came. On the first day of Year Zero, the day the world saw its ruin, flesh rained and mandibles the size of mountains stabbed into the earth. Winter was catapulted into summer from the sheer mass of heat and life that fell from the stars, and everywhere that could send their reports all spoke of the same occurrence: they were material creatures, like humanity, but that was where the similarities ended. In the far east, the Mori Masif Moths tore through the lands with their sky-spanning wings, their hunger for human flesh insatiable. The Colossal Attini ants drove the hermits out from mountain hollows and claimed the far southern lands for their own. The Deepwater leviathans decimated the far west before the great cities could even mount an evacuation, the cyclones they made felt even across the vast marina seas. The Hellfire Beetles syphoned magma from the volcanoes in the north, freezing a quarter of the world. The Spinner Spider Brood were travelling gourmets, their silk rendering whole swathes of land untraversable, limbs easier to sever than to attempt removing the webbing. Reports from other continents stopped coming in eight days after they first descended. It was just one wave, one big mass of chitin and carapaces. It was more than enough. Our ancestors, the Sharaji Prophets, were prudent enough to have already constructed a vast system of underground towns to shelter the remnants of humanity in case anything of the sort happened, but¡­ we knew it. The Prophets knew it. It''d take a bit of time for them to terraform the surface world to their liking, yes, but once they conquered the surface, they will descend again to take the undertowns for themselves. Do we stand a chance against them? Or have our fates already been made since the day we were brought into this world? ¡­ ¡­ Year Zero. Midnight, when the moon was dimmest and the night was darkest. The Swarm descended, and they were the dark stars that blinked. - Excerpt from ¡®The Alshifa Records¡¯, Chapter One
¡­ Dust choked Dahlia''s lungs. Pillars of light leaking through the earth. The sound of sediments compressing and the ceiling caving was shadowed by the utter chaos that was the giant black cocoon descending, plummeting¡ªand then it was ten seconds of pure, primal dread. Her heart beat a hard note against her ribs. She vaguely knew she had to jump out of the way, but moving was easier said than done. The falling cocoon was something she thought¡ªfor the briefest of moments¡ªwas the encapsulation of the word ¡®beauty¡¯. It sank through the air like a pebble would in shallow waters, but, unlike a pebble, it wasn¡¯t going to leave a small dent once it hit the bottom. It would crash, like the invading insect meteorites in stories of old, and¨C ¡°Move, little Maker!¡± A scorpion tail coiled around her waist and jerked her far back, throwing her into the carriage just as the cocoon hit the ground hard. Water sprayed everywhere from the crushed fountain, the pretty clay tiles rippling before exploding into clouds of earthen dust. Shrapnel ripped across the town square, and Dahlia had to squeeze her eyes shut and grit her teeth, bracing her face as a few small cuts opened across her forearms¡ªshe couldn¡¯t see how everyone else was faring, but she could at least tell Issam and the others had been thrown into the same carriage right next to her. Like her, then, they peeled their eyelids open once the shrapnel stopped flying and the dust was trying to settle. ¡­ Alive. Still alive. She snapped back to reality when Issam shook her shoulder and yelled at her to move, but he was the only one in the town square who had the sensibility to do so. The rest of the townsfolk, just like her, were rising from whatever they¡¯d been taking cover behind to stare, because the giant cocoon sitting over the crushed water fountain wasn¡¯t something anyone could just ignore. At five meters wide and ten meters tall, the¡­ the thing pulsed and ebbed like a malignant tumor, viscous oil leaking from its every seam. Bulging, distending veins marred its surface as though worms were wriggling across, but beyond the thin veil and pinkish membrane she could easily see it was no worm that lurked inside, nor anything she could call a proper ¡®human¡¯. If she had to give it a name, though¡­ It was an ¡®insect¡¯. And then dark sapphire claws stabbed through the cocoon. The townsfolk shrieked and backed away from the bug tearing through the cocoon¡¯s leathery membrane. Foul-smelling pus rushed out and immediately flooded the air with its assaulting scent. The bug itself took its sweet time prying its way out; the human-like hornet was gurgling, bubbling, sparks of blue lightning crackling beneath its uneven wings and between its armoured fingers. It was two metres tall and covered in slime all over, but it stumbled out on all six limbs at first¡­ and when it stood up straight on two legs, four hands scraping slime off its face to blink with its compound eyes¡ªit followed, immediately, by clicking its mandibles together in the rhythm of tick, click, flick. Tick, click, flick. Tick, click, flick. Dahlia¡¯s eyes widened. The rest of the Swarm exploded through the cocoon before she could finish her thought, and hundreds of giant bugs emerged from the oily black scum. The bug trader whipped his tail around to slap the carriage further back, taking the six of them along with it, but then the giant bugs charged the rest of the less fortunate townsfolk; all manners of ants and beetles and hornets in the sky, crushing the square with their slick black carapaces. Screams tore into the sky, the streets ran red with blood, limbs torn asunder. All six of them watched in horror as the black bugs began their indiscriminate slaughter, but then Dahlia heard a thump atop their carriage. ¡­ There¡¯s something up there¨C Issam unsheathed his greatsword and unfurled his whetstone mantis scythes, sharpening his blade as he swung. Amula darted to the side with the twins¡¯ necks in each hand, while Jerie dodged to the other side after shoving Dahlia to the ground. There was no pause, there was no hesitation¡ªIssam swung hard, bisecting a giant yellow hornet from down under before it could sting through the carriage. Fast! By the time Dahlia managed to take a breath and realised he¡¯d just saved all of them from getting their skulls pierced through, there was another loud thud outside the carriage. Issam swung instinctively, his blade cleaving through the wood¡ªonly to be stopped by the bug trader''s ant chitin gauntlet. The man in the moth mask flung Issam''s blade back, and then he swerved around the back of the carriage to stare at all of them. ¡°... Not ta worry, eh? I know this undertown¡¯s got an emergency shelter in case the Swarm ever breaks through,¡± he muttered, popping his shoulders and stretching his neck as he counted their heads one by one. ¡°You kids know the way over there, or am I gonna have ta play the responsible adult here? I¡¯d like not ta lead the way when I don¡¯t know where¡¯s the shelter, but, hey, I¡¯ll pretend like I know¨C¡± ¡°We¡¯re bug slayers!¡± Issam snapped, sharpening his blade as he readied to vault off the carriage. ¡°Students or not, we have the obligation to fight and make our stand here! Amula! Jerie! Go back to the school and get your Swarmsteel, then come back here as soon as possible! I¡¯ll keep them contained here-¡± A whack on the head was all Issam got as the bug trader swung his tail. ¡°That¡¯s a small-sized Swarm if I¡¯ve ever seen one, but even then it¡¯s too much for you undertown folks ta handle. Leave those people for the guards, so just look out for your girlfriend and all your other mates. They¡¯re the only ones you can trust not ta feed you ta the bugs when the going gets rough.¡± ¡°But¨C¡± ¡°The little Maker¡¯s utterly petrified, you see?¡± All eyes turned to her, and the blood in her veins ran even colder. Just the sight of the giant bugs in the fair distance was making fear coil so thickly inside her that her lungs felt tight and her muscles felt taut. Issam saw the shaking in her eyes and took a step closer; she shuffled backwards on her knees before she even knew it. He took another step forward, she shuffled back again. Then he took another step forward, snatched her hands, and the warmth that flowed into her bones as he knelt to look at her was like¡­ a field of flowers, growing in the fields outside her house, her dad playing tag with her while her mom watched from the rocking armchair inside the bedroom. No. I¡­ I can''t¨C She doubled over the railings of the carriage and gasped immediately, her face paler than ever as she wheezed out the panic in her chest, but Issam didn¡¯t let go. He saw the disgust on her face and said nothing, showing only concern, and the thought of him pitying her made her sick¡ªsomeone strong like him should be helping fight off the Swarm, not being with¡­ with a bug-slayer who couldn¡¯t even stand the sight of a giant bug. But her vision blurred, and the words couldn¡¯t come out her throat. Issam narrowed his eyes and looked to the bug trader, nodding resolutely. ¡°... We¡¯ll go to the shelter,¡± he said, as the bug trader nodded back in satisfaction and turned to face the Swarm, scorpion tail swaying left and right. ¡°And what will you be doing, mister? Even if you¡¯re fast and you¡¯re wearing some sort of Swarmsteel that augments your speed and toughness¨C¡± ¡°Shelter, now!¡± Cold sweat poured down her brows as the bug trader kicked their carriage down the slope to the lower distrct, away from the slaughter and the screams of the town square. The twins, Jerie, and Amula held onto the railings tight, all of them shouting words at Issam she couldn¡¯t quite make out; making sure she didn''t hurl from the motion of the carriage rolling violently down was already taking enough of a toll on her. More unholy screeches ripped into the air around them, followed soon after by sounds of chitin breaking, tails swinging like clubs, the bug trader single-handedly fighting off dozens of giant bugs descending on them from every conceivable direction. The carriage didn''t stop. It followed the straight path down to the emergency shelter, where hundreds of townsfolk were also racing towards from every corner of the town. But¡­ what can we do? Where can we run? How big is the shelter? Will all of us fit inside? Aren¡¯t we all just living corpses already? This time, though, she managed to shake her head and clear her thoughts. Issam¡¯s hand was still locked around hers, and she latched onto his warmth, feeding off it for courage. He had to be scared, too, and so was everyone else. The twins weren¡¯t chatting as they held each other, Jerie had dropped his wooden flute somewhere along the way, and Amula was¡­ quiet. Deathly, angrily quiet. The cries for mercy behind them fell upon deaf ears as the Swarm raged on, uncaring, but the six of them were just as uncaring as they ignored the plights of their fellow townsfolk¡ªif they stayed and fought, they would die, and even Issam had accepted that fact at this point. There were too many bugs. Too little unity amongst themselves. Getting to the shelter was the first priority. Once they got there, they could gather themselves, regroup, recoup, and mount some sort of resistance¡ªthat had to be possible, and she had to believe in it. She squeezed Issam¡¯s hand back, biting her nails with the other hand. ¡°We¡¯re not that far off from the shelter, Issam! Let go of Dahlia and start running ahead to help move the crowd!¡± Ayla shouted, her voice ear-deafeningly loud. ¡°Control them and have everyone move into the shelter one at a time! If we all get stuck outside while the Swarm arrives, none of us will get through the night!¡± ¡°I know that! But Dahlia¨C¡± Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. ¡°Can live perfectly fine by herself, can¡¯t she?¡± Amula snapped back, glaring daggers at Dahlia from the side. ¡°Honestly! Stop bein'' a bother and grow a spine! Someone with no confidence like ye should¡¯ve just dropped outta school ages ago, back when ye stopped showin'' up to afternoon classes and spent yer days¨C¡± ¡°Stop the bickering and focus on getting ready ta jump at any time, won¡¯t you?¡± the bug trader interjected, slamming an oversized beetle into the tiles before them before leaping off with it a second later, immediately stabbing another hornet on their trail with his scorpion tail as he did. ¡°Bug-slayers don¡¯t leave one of their own behind! You know how much this town must¡¯ve spent ta train you up from birth? You just gonna leave one of your own ta die?¡± Dahlia''s eyes were spinning a bit too much, now, so she couldn¡¯t see the expression on Amula¡¯s face, but she felt it was probably irritation or pure, unbridled wrath¡ªeither one of the two. And maybe under normal circumstances she would¡¯ve felt the sting in Amula¡¯s words, stewed a little in the poison in her cuts, but right now¡­ the bug trader whirling and leaping and fighting in circles around them was all she could focus on. He was a blur of a warrior, zipping and leaping across rooftops to intercept giant bugs rushing down the slope, and he showed no signs of fatigue. He was more muscular than she¡¯d thought. His footwork, the way he used his tail to swing off lamp posts and signboards, the sheer dodges he could pull off before launching a counterattack punch that could immediately cave a giant bug¡¯s head in¡ªhe was no mere merchant after all. And to think someone like him, too, had always been hanging around someone like her¨C Her blood ran cold again. Without notice. Without rhyme or reason. The hair on the back of her neck jolted up straight, and she glanced around, staring at the top of the slope where the first human-like insect had emerged from the cocoon. The hornet standing on two legs was staring down at them, sparks of blue lightning swirling around its claws. ¡­ Move! With an underhanded throw, the hornet tossed a lightning javelin their way, and for some reason¡ªfor some reason¡ªthis was the one attack Dahlia felt coming. Her body moved on its own. She lurched forward, knocking both Issam and Amula down. In that split second, Issam whirled to see what she¡¯d done, but he was a bit too slow this time. The lightning bolt slammed into their carriage, and it would¡¯ve killed them all had the bug trader not jumped in front of them to tank the brunt of the blow; and still all of them went flying across the street, scattered by the sheer force of the exploding lightning. Dahlia and the bug trader¡ªjust the two of them¡ªsoared over the railings by the side of the slope, and they began plummeting twenty metres down into the sewers. Oh. No. She fell, her head a swirl of motion as she felt herself hurtling down the streets. A scream didn¡¯t even manage to tear out her throat before the bug trader hugged her tight and softened the impact for her, a shock of pain rattling her bones and making her clench every single muscle in fear. Cold water. Dark water. Foetid water rushed up her nose, down her throat, and by the time she clamped her jaw shut it was already too late. Her head was absolutely filled to the brim with the smell of dissolved sulphur, and if she knew how to swim she didn¡¯t remember it now. Her ears were ringing. So loud. So painful. Her lungs burned for breath, her muscles screamed for release, her fingers clawed at the water in an attempt to break the surface¨C And it was the bug trader who flung her onshore with a violent jerk, after what felt like minutes getting washed along the sewage, travelling through the underbelly of the undertown. Breathe! There was a moment of disorientation as she gasped, sticking her fingers into her mouth to get rid of the soil and hair clumps, and then she hacked and coughed to spill out all the water in her lungs. Air. It¡¯d never tasted so fresh, so pure. Through the burning pains along her back where she¡¯d been thrown onto the sewage room, she managed to catch a glimpse of the bug trader pulling himself out of the sewage river as well¡ªonly, she¡¯d have to be blind to not notice something was very, very wrong with the way his limbs were twitching. She crawled towards him, stomach aching, as he threw himself onto his back and chortled with a series of heavy wheezes. ¡°... A Mutant, huh?¡± he muttered, as he raked his fingers over the charred hole in his chest where the lightning bolt had run right through. ¡°Well, could¡¯ve been a lot worse. Ta think your disgust of bugs is so strong you felt that coming before I did. You¡¯d make a damned good bug-slayer for sure. Don¡¯t you ever get comfortable around them. Feel your gut roil, goosebumps over your skin, and-¡± ¡°Mister, please don¡¯t¡­ talk! Danger!¡± she hissed, as she pushed her upper body off the ground and cried, elbows nearly buckling under her own weight. Still she persevered. The bug trader needed her help. ¡°Hole in your¡­ chest! Need to stop now! If I have¡­ do you have a¡­ no, you don¡¯t. Your pockets don¡¯t look full at all!¡± The bug trader swivelled his head over to look at her worriedly. ¡°You alright, little Maker? You¡¯re not hurt, are you? Would suck if I took that lightning bolt for nothing at all.¡± But Dahlia wasn¡¯t listening anymore. One look at the bug trader¡¯s mantle and she knew he barely had anything on him she could use to stop the bleeding, so she wasn¡¯t looking at him. She stuck her hand in the sewage to fish out a rugged patch of fabric, wrung the rag dry, and whipped up a makeshift bandage just long enough to wrap around the hole in his chest. ¡°I¡¯d never seen you work up close,¡± he commented idly. ¡°You¡¯ve got fast hands, don¡¯t you?¡± ¡°Not¡­ now!¡± she snapped back. Why didn¡¯t he seem worried at all? He was the one bleeding here. Dying here. Was she really going to listen to him make idle comments with his final, dying breaths? Was she going to have to see someone dying at the hands of a bug again? ¡­ The bleeding won¡¯t stop. It didn¡¯t work. Her twisted rolls of fabric weren¡¯t thick enough to stop the bleeding. She¡¯d need to lift him, sit him up straight, and then she could maybe hug him from the back to forcibly keep his blood inside him¡­ but then what, after that? They weren¡¯t anywhere near the surface. Issam and the others had been tossed off to god knows where, so there was no way they could expect any help from anyone at all. They were alone here¨C The bug trader grabbed her by the neck and pulled her down all of a sudden, pressing her body flat against his. Her lips were half parted when he placed a finger on them, and it was just in time¡ªa giant leg stabbed into the ground next to their heads, missing them by inches. ¡­ Her blood ran cold. Even trying to take a peek at it from the corner of her eye was a struggle, considering how hard the bug trader was holding her head still. The giant bug was huge, nearly three metres wide and five metres tall. Cold water dripped from its armoured pores, the spiky, tiny hairs on its legs vibrated as it stood over them, and its long and sharp antennae swept the ground before it as though it was walking around blind; it probably was blind. Its back legs were twice as long as its forelegs, its antennae too long to be useful in any environment other than dark, enclosed spaces. It was a cave cricket. She knew its name only because her dad had made her study every known and documented insect in the Alshifa Records, all to make up for her lack of skill in the actual fighting department. And, if she recalled correctly, a cave cricket¡¯s forelegs were hypersensitive to all types of movements. Even breathing would spell disaster for the two of them. The bug trader didn¡¯t need to warn her twice. She squeezed her eyes shut and hugged him tight¡ªhoping it¡¯d go away soon enough. Can it hear my heartbeat? How do I¡­ how do I stop that? A hundred errant thoughts were flying through her head, all too fast for her to catch and consider properly. She was almost sure the cave cricket could hear her pulse, the beads of sweat rolling down her forehead, her biceps shivering and her thighs quivering as the bug trader remained still as a statue. How could he even be so calm in a situation like this? A giant bug was standing over them, tapping the ground over their heads with its eerily arm-like antennae. Could the bug trader possibly fight it off even in his current state? ¡­ She wouldn¡¯t let it come to that. He¡¯d already done so much for her. So, as slowly as she could, she raised her head and opened her eyes, aiming where the cricket was looking¡ªand her tongue found a lump of dirt stuck between her teeth that she hadn¡¯t worked out of her mouth previously. Her lungs were tight. Very tight. Her cheeks must be burning red with heat, her chest gripping in pain, but she managed to pucker her lips and spit the dirt lump forward. That courageous little decision of hers changed everything. She trembled as the cave cricket heard the dirt lump bouncing off the ground, and it immediately pounced forward, forelegs smashing into the ground only to hit nothing. The dirt lump rolled even further away. Faintly, she heard the cricket clawing up moss, cobblestone, half-stumbling into the sewage river, and soon it disappeared deeper into the sewage room. Her bones finally gave out and her face fell on the bug trader¡¯s mask¡ªthe painful clang of the motion made her jolt wide awake, and she threw herself off the poor man she¡¯d been crushing under her weight the entire time. Shit! No! Her vision blurred when she noticed the slick, growing puddle of blood that was already pooling beneath his body. Her nails dug into her arms and she racked her head for anything she could do with what she had, but there was¡­ nothing around. Nothing in the immediate vicinity. Maybe she could try ripping up his mantle to stuff the hole in his chest, but at this point, what was that going to do? ¡°Mis¡­ Mister,¡± she breathed, crawling forward, slinging both arms over his chest as she shook him lightly. She didn¡¯t know what she was doing. What was she hoping to accomplish? ¡°Please tell me what to do. Instruction. What can¡­ what can I do? Do you have some¡­ a Swarmsteel that can heal you? Some sort of healing potion?¡± The bug trader rested the back of his head flat against the ground, moth eyes blinking idly once. ¡°Eat the bug first, and then we¡¯ll talk.¡± ¡°What¡­? No, mister! What! Can! I! Do? Do you have a potion? Or something to¡­ to stuff the hole with? Do you have special powers? If I scoop up your blood and pour it back in, will I¨C¡± ¡°Eat the bug first, and then we¡¯ll talk.¡± ¡°¨Cit won¡¯t work, right? Then please, please, please, please tell me what to do! I can¡¯t do it myself! I¡¯m not my dad! I¡¯m not a doctor, or a slayer, or¡­ should I call for help? I¡¯ll find a way past that cricket, get to the shelter, and bring someone! Anyone! My dad¡¯s¡­ my dad¡¯s the best doctor in town, so¨C¡± ¡°Eat the bug first, and then we¡¯ll talk.¡± His raspy voice punctured through the wall she¡¯d built up in her ears, and then she noticed¡ªthe little thing he was holding up in the palm of his hand, right next to her face. A living, writhing little silver worm. ¡­ It was an instinctual reaction, one she had no control over. Panic exploded through her and her breathing stopped, all the mental fortitude she¡¯d managed to build up over the past minute vanishing as she jerked herself back, eyes glazing over. The bug trader didn¡¯t seem to care. He had more than enough strength to snap a hand out at her throat, and he pulled her back in, squeezing just hard enough to bring back that painful sensation of ¡®breathlessness¡¯ again. No! Why? Why, mister? ¡°Eat the bug,¡± he said. ¡°Swallow it whole. Don¡¯t chew.¡± Her panic came out of fight-or-flight mode. She made her decision. She let herself squirm in uncontrolled, choking gurgles as she kicked the bug trader in the mask, trying to get him to let go. His head didn¡¯t so much as budge a single inch. Her dirty nails went to claw at his fingers, trying to pry them off her throat, but if she couldn¡¯t wriggle out of Issam¡¯s grip, she sure as hell wasn¡¯t going to get out of his. He didn¡¯t show any reaction to her crying out for air. He pulled her in closer, closer, pressing the rounded head of the metal worm against her lips¡ªand it slid into her mouth quite easily, like she was slurping on a single strand of flat noodle from an old baba¡¯s shop. ¡°Don¡¯t chew.¡± He released her throat so she could swallow, but gripped the back of her head and clamped her mouth shut so she couldn¡¯t puke the worm out. That didn¡¯t stop her from trying. She fought off the waves of panic that threatened to engulf her as she squirmed in place, tears wringing out the corner of her eyes. The worm was moving, curling across her tongue, wiggling deeper into her mouth. She felt every ridge of the bug, tasted cold silver bumping into her teeth, before it finally found the entrance to her throat. It threw itself down, and then all of a sudden the taste of metal vanished, like she¡¯d never put anything in her mouth to begin with. ¡°Good. Very¡­ good,¡± the bug trader breathed, as he let go of her and she immediately leaned forward, coughing and moving to shove two fingers into her mouth. He caught her wrist before she could try. She moved her other hand, and he caught that one as well, shaking his head firmly. ¡°Keep it inside you. That bug. As long as you don¡¯t try ta dig it out, it won¡¯t ever try ta leave. Work with it, and it will be your greatest weapon.¡± Her eyes were watery. Everything looked hazy and swirly. Still, she felt she sent her message across with her twisted lips and her quivering face: ¡®what did you just make me eat¡¯? The bug trader laughed softly, and let go of her hands one final time. ¡°I promised you, didn¡¯t I?¡± he murmured, closing his eyes, his once-heaving chest still like the surface of an undisturbed pond. ¡°That the next we met, I¡¯d have something super, super special for you. A Swarmsteel like no other. An extension of your body like no other. Something, I think, is just right for a talented little Maker¡­ like¡­ you¡­¡± And he trailed off, head falling listlessly. ¡°... Mister?¡± she managed to croak. No answer. She stopped trying to stick her fingers into her mouth, her hands were locked around his collar, as though shaking him now would wake him up. ¡°Mister,¡± she begged. ¡°You have to help me here. I don¡¯t¡­ I don¡¯t know what to do.¡± No answer. No movement. Something inside her chest went crack. She¡¯d accompanied enough people by their deathbeds to know she was alone yet again¡ªand that was, until she felt as though her vision was brightening by the second. Something wriggled in her ear canals, something nibbled on the top of her spine. The silver worm. It was still alive. Drearily, she lifted a hand and dug her nails into her nape, hoping just the slightest bit of effort would be able to rip it out¨C [Please do not attempt to remove the worm while system integration is in progress,] the worm said, and it was a distinctly metallic, distinctly female voice in her ears. And then it happened before she could even blink. One second there was nothing, and in the next¡ªthere was a small, six-legged black bug wiggling on the bridge of her nose, trying to catch her attention. [... Greetings, Dahlia Sina,] the bug said, waving one of its legs. [I am designated ¡®Eria¡¯, your personal bug assistant, here to support your integration with the Altered Swarmsteel System. You appear to be in quite the bind. Would you like to check your status now?] Chapter 3 - Altered Swarmsteel System ¡°¡­ Dahlia? Dahlia! What''s wrong? What are you screaming about?¡± ¡°Mom! Get it away, get it away! Eww! That thing, it''s-¡± ¡°Oh. It''s just a little bug.¡± ¡°It''s not little, mom! Look! It''s¨C no! Mom, help! It''s coming towards me! Get it off!¡± ¡°No, Dahlia. It''s just a regular assassin bug. It won''t bite if you don''t aggravate it. Just pick it up gently with your finger.¡± ¡°I¡­ I can''t!¡± ¡°You can. Try. Curl your pinky like you''re making a promise, and then put it right in front of its legs. It''ll get curious and climb on because it''s just as curious as you are.¡± ¡°...¡± ¡°Deep breath, four seconds. Heavy exhale, four seconds. That''s it, Dahlia. Just a little bit closer, a little bit closer¡­¡± ¡°... It''s on! It''s on! Now what do I-¡± ¡°Now flick it out the window as hard as you can. I don''t like bugs in my house.¡± - Conversation from Sina Household past
[... Greetings, Dahlia Sina,] the bug said, waving one of its legs. [I am designated ¡®Eria¡¯, your personal bug assistant, here to support your integration with the Altered Swarmsteel System. You appear to be in quite the bind. Would you like to check your status now?] ¡­ Dahlia raised a hand, pinched the little black bug off the bridge of her nose, and then flicked it into the wall as hard as she could. It was an instinctual move. A practised motion. She couldn¡¯t immediately recall how many times her mom had made her do the same with bugs they found skittering across the house, but just this once, muscle memory had taken over before fear could¡ªand then she scrambled back, her breaths hitching as her fingers started itching where she¡¯d touched the living bug. No. It¡¯s dead now. I killed it. So please, please, please stop itching¨C [I am designated ¡®Eria¡¯, your personal bug assistant. This body of mine is ephemeral,] the bug said, reappearing on the ground in front of her, and she had to clamp a hand over her mouth to stop herself from shrieking; the cave cricket had to be close, still. The little black bug sat on its hindlegs like it was a dog, staring up at her pitifully. [I understand you must be very confused. However, you are not currently in a situation to panic. You must remain calm. You must ¡®Deep breath, four seconds. Heavy exhale, four seconds.¡¯ Can you do that for me?] [Deep breath, four seconds.] [Heavy exhale, four seconds.] And the gentleness in the metallic voice caught her off-guard. The whirlwind of fear in her chest had refused to settle, but the instructions combined with the tone of voice brought in a flash of memories, white and black in her head¡ªfour years ago, curled up in the corner of her house, her mom kneeling in front of her. Six legs pricking her shoulder. Her mom told her to breathe deeply, so she did back then¡ªand she did right now, the sound of air whistling past her lips distracting her momentarily from the pain in her eardrums. Her heartbeat slowed a little. Fingers shuddering, she reached into her pockets and popped a little bloodberry candy into her mouth, savouring every last drop of its sweetness. [... Interesting. The retrieval of a positive word association from your memories proved far more effective than my calculations had predicted,] the bug mumbled. [Searching memories for a deeper understanding of Dahlia Sina. Searching failed. Searching memories for a deeper understanding of Dahlia Sina. Searching failed¨C] ¡°What are you¡­ what are you doing to me?¡± she breathed, maintaining her breathing rhythm, much to her own surprise. The little bug tilted its head. [Swarmsteel are ¡®magical¡¯ equipment created from the parts of dead insects, and I am the most advanced Swarmsteel there is. The wandering bug-slayers call us ¡®Altered Swarmsteel Systems¡¯, but you can call me ¡®Eria¡¯, an artificial lifeform created to assist its user in all things related to slaying giant bugs. This body you are seeing is but a projection chosen based on certain events from your memories,] the bug explained. [Based on your surface memories, I conclude you have no significant knowledge of the surface world. However, as you are an unauthorised user of the Altered Swarmsteel System, I cannot perform a memory link and immediately transfer all my knowledge into your mind. Would you like me to explain via oral methods what will happen to your body over the following few hours?] You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author. Deep breaths. Heavy exhales. The little bug wasn¡¯t so close to her that she felt the gut-roiling sensation to scramble further away, and just as well, it likely knew getting any closer to her would make her react in much the same way she did just half a minute ago. It was for this reason they were locked in a stalemate, staring dead into each other¡¯s eyes¡ªbut, for once, she felt somewhat at ease hearing that particular voice coming from that particular shape of bug. That small, six-legged, black and orange teardrop-shaped body with a slightly elongated neck¡­ she knew the name of this bug by heart, but she never thought she¡¯d get to see another one in this undertown for as long as she lived. It was her mom¡¯s most hated bug, after all. ¡°... If I say no, then what will you do?¡± she asked weakly, lips quivering, swallowing the last fragment of her candy. ¡°If I say¡­ if I say I want you to get out of my body now, will you do it?¡± [I will. But without my assistance, based on prior information and observations, the chances of you surviving this Swarm invasion is less than one percent.] the bug said matter-of-factly, not beating around the bush. It stood up straight and mimed wagging a finger at her with one of its legs. [The breadth of assistance I can offer is tantamount to possessing ten A-rank Swarmsteel. The amount of assistance I can offer right now is not even close to a fraction of my true potential, owing to my inability to access your full memories, but as time goes on I will understand you better. I will understand your body better. The more you and I are one, the more personal adjustments I can alter to strengthen your system. It would be unwise to remove me now.] [However, the choice is still yours.] [Do you wish to accept the system, Dahlia Sina of the Alshifa undertown?] ¡­ ¡­ She could buy the idea that the little bug was a projection from the Swarmsteel the bug trader had made her swallow. She¡¯d heard about it from her dad, read about it from books in the library¡ªwhile most Swarmsteel were worn and carried around as pieces of equipment, weapons, and tools, there was also a different category of Swarmsteel that functioned more like implants, directly affecting the wearer¡¯s internal body. Special dragonfly lenses could replace the human lenses, directly increasing the wearer¡¯s dynamic vision. Folded beetle bones could replace entire arms and legs, and in time normal human flesh would grow over them to hide them from surface-level glances. In that sense, it wasn¡¯t too big of a stretch to imagine that a far more talented Swarmsteel Maker than her could¡¯ve created something that could talk in her head. Besides, this Swarmsteel was something the bug trader had explicitly said he would bring to her. If he was planning on giving it to her anyways, then it couldn¡¯t possibly do any harm to her, right? It wasn¡¯t a real bug. It was just a fake. ¡°... Say I accept you, and accept this¡­ ¡®system integration¡¯, whatever it is,¡± she whispered, eyes lifting as she saw a massive shadow moving in the dark. The cave cricket was still nearby. ¡°Can you help me get out of this sewer room and back up to the town? Safely?¡± The little bug dipped its head. [It would require cooperation and action from your part, but yes. Based on prior information and observations, your chances of surviving this Swarm invasion would rise to five percent if you possess a system.] ¡°Only five percent? That¡¯s-¡± [Humans of this era are like bugs under a boot,] Eria said plainly. [Will you be the boot that crushes without thought, or will you be the bug that refuses to die?] Her face fell, heavy with an unplaceable emotion. That quote¡­ she¡¯d heard it before. Her mom. Her dad. The little bug knew more about her than it let on. ¡°... Okay,¡± she said. ¡°Five percent is¡­ okay. Dad always says it¡¯s a five percent chance he walks out of a patient¡¯s house having cured an ailment completely, and he¡¯s the best doctor in this town, so¨C¡± [Wonderful! Would you like to check your status now?] the little bug said, clapping two legs together. [Due to current processing errors in reading your full physiological and mental information, certain status blocks have been put in place to reduce misinformation. However, you can still confirm your basic attributes and devise a strategy regarding your future progression plans. Decisions made after diligent planning will lead to better results than if you were to simply leave everything to me, your personal bug assistant¨C] ¡°I don¡¯t know half of what you¡¯re saying, but can you¡­ can you help me get rid of that cave cricket first?¡± she said, dropping her head to the ground as the massive shadow whirled to look in her direction; she immediately clasped her hands over her mouth, speaking in a whisper. ¡°It won¡¯t go away. I think it knows I¡¯m still here. Certainty. But that ladder behind it, it¡¯s¡­ it¡¯s the only way to climb out of this sewage room and back up to the lower streets. I need to get up there.¡± The little bug made a big show of turning around, staring at the crickets¡¯ gently swaying antennae. [I agree. It would be inefficient to explain your attributes and system to you while that cave cricket is breathing over your neck,] it said. [Shall we aim to dismantle it systematically, then, or should I augment your basic attributes with what little strength I can afford you so you can fight it head-on?] She was only half-listening to the little bug as she stared at the cricket, but then she caught onto what the little bug was saying and snapped down to look at it. ¡°Why would I want to fight it head-on?¡± [Most bug-slayers do not engage in cloak and dagger. If there is a giant bug, then slay it. It is the most simple and direct way to get rid of a bug.] ¡°And do I look like I have the body to¡­ to fight that thing head-on?¡± [You are correct. Until I have a better understanding of you as a person and can assign you an insect class to massively improve your progression capabilities, it will be difficult for you to overcome the cave cricket with your current strength and speed.] ¡°So that¡¯s why¨C¡± [That is why you will use the skills you have to dismantle the cricket without turning it into a fight,] the little bug concluded. [According to previous recorded conversations with your friends, you are nicknamed the ¡®Make-Whatever¡¯ of Alshifa. You are a fledgling crafter known as a ¡®Swarmsteel Maker¡¯. [In this sewage room, with what little components you have access to, do you ¡®see¡¯ a path to slay the cave cricket?] She looked, the tears in her eyes obscuring half her vision as she scanned the crates dangling on frayed ropes over her head. Then, she spotted the glints of tiny insect parts mixed in with the piles of garbage running along the walls. Closing her eyes, she gritted her teeth as she tried to recall where she¡¯d seen those parts before, what insect they¡¯d belonged to, what combinations and reactions she would get if she just stuck all of them together¡ªand the little bug must¡¯ve injected something into her blood, because she felt a calm like never before as she exhaled with her lips pressed tightly together. ¡°... There is a path,¡± she whispered. ¡°I¡­ I can kill the cave cricket.¡± Chapter 4 - Systematic Dismantling ¡­ Little Dahlia sits on a chair upon a chair, just to get her eye level with the table. Her mother sits on her left, her father sits on her right. Today, for little Dahlia¡¯s ninth birthday, they are teaching her how to make a paper spray explosive. ¡°It¡¯s easy once you understand that all bombs function basically the same,¡± her father says, as her mother runs her hands through the scattered insect parts and checks to see if the edges are sharp. Little Dahlia looks up at her father, puzzled. ¡°The base component for all bombs include three items: two extracts from a bombardier beetle that serve as binary chemical agents, and then a glass partition that will shatter once you throw the bomb to let the extracts mix together. As long as you have all three, you can make a bomb out of anything, anywhere you want. Watch.¡± Little Dahlia watches as her father folds the two semi-spherical bodies of the bomb out of soft ant carapaces, before pouring a sickly yellow liquid into one half and a beautiful blue liquid into the other. His fingers move slowly, his hands are delicate as he places a glass pane over one half before putting the two together. Then he binds both halves with a simple lac bug glue, brushed over with a small wooden stick. Else his fingers would get too sticky and he wouldn¡¯t be able to throw the bomb. He refuses to hand the bomb over to little Dahlia when she cries for it, saying it is too dangerous, so he would do the demonstration. He aims for the flower field outside the window, and throws. His aim is off. The bomb explodes over the kitchen basin and the ceramic cracks, leaking water everywhere. While her father curses and runs to get a rag, her mother taps her shoulder and whispers in her ear. ¡°Your papa is too smart. I don¡¯t understand half of everything he says. All I do is pour these two things into these two things, put glass in between, and then for some reason it¡¯ll just blow,¡± her mother says, guiding little Dahlia¡¯s hands so she could make her own smaller, makeshift paper bomb. ¡°I don¡¯t know if this knowledge will be useful for the Bug-Hunting School, but there¡¯s more than one way to fight a bug. Sometimes, you have to be a bit creative and surprise your enemy¨C¡± Her bomb explodes on the table, spraying paper everywhere, and little Dahlia starts crying because she feels a little dizzy. The sharp sound hurt her ears. Her father and mother pat her head to comfort her between running around the living room, trying to clean everything up. A bomb is the second thing little Dahlia learns how to make with her own two hands. - Scene from Sina Household past
The sewage room was dark, but not so dark firefly light from the surface far above couldn¡¯t reach in soft, misty rays. Lines of crates dangled on frayed ropes over her head. Carts and trolleys and cans of unwrapped garbage lay spilled and scattered along the moist cobblestone walls, but between the unpleasant smells of rotten vegetables and decomposing ceramics, Dahlia felt a little sting on the tip of her outstretched tongue, between her parted lips¡ªwhat tasted like burnt and charred organic matter, coming from a particular pile of trash a few metres off to her left. She knew the source of this scent, strong and pungent enough to knock an eight-year-old out cold with prolonged exposure. I need¡­ that thing. Tearing her eyes away from the lifeless bug trader, she crawled over to the pile of trash with her stomach glued to the ground, careful to keep her clothes from rustling. She wasn¡¯t entirely sure how sensitive the cave cricket was, but it had to be suspicious, or else it wouldn¡¯t be standing guard before the ladder like it was waiting for something. Sharp rocks scraped her bare stomach as she crawled, and she couldn¡¯t whimper even once unless she wanted to die. Eria¡ªor, at least, the projection of the little black bug that wanted to be called that¡ªskittered ahead of her to stand atop a particularly foul-smelling box made of bolted wood and metal latches. Since the projection wasn¡¯t real, Eria couldn¡¯t just help her open the box, but pointing out its exact location was already more than enough help. With her heart in her throat, she grabbed the box tentatively and pulled it towards her, pulling the lid slowly open to find six small coloured vials within. [Pale water alcali and yellow gum benzoin, the two extracts that make up a bombardier beetle¡¯s noxious spray. Very good catch,] Eria commented idly, as she scooped up the vials and lay them gently on the ground next to her, hands now searching the trash heap for whatever she could use for the body of the bomb. [I am surprised you managed to pick the scents out from all this junk, though. Is it a common smell in Alshifa? Even experienced bomb smiths on the surface would have had some trouble doing what you just did, so¨C] ¡°Can you find me something¡­ something hard, but malleable?¡± she whispered, changing the topic as she kept stealing peeks at the cave cricket. ¡°Also, um, something¡­ easy to shatter. Like a thrown-out stick of wax or a glass pane about the size of my palm. And, if possible, I want some sort of¡­ liquid resin. But just a normal tying band would also do.¡± [As I am not currently fully integrated with your body, I can only see what you see, hear what you hear, and smell what you smell. It will be difficult for me to locate something you do not know the whereabouts of.] She blinked, her hands stopping searching for a moment. ¡°So¡­ what can you do?¡± [Injecting low dosage of perception-enhancing compounds.] There was a warning, but she was hardly prepared for it. It was like someone suddenly shoved a knife made of ice through the back of her skull and her world flashed white and blue¡ªher muscles electrifying, her pain receptors amplifying, her blood running cold in her veins and her airways unclogged by a burst of air¡ªbut then she blinked again, and it was like she was seeing the whole world through a bug¡¯s curved compound eyes. Her field of vision was wider, longer. The ground looked distorted and the ceiling appeared higher than usual. Even the sounds of sewage water rushing behind her felt a little calmer, like the world was moving in slow motion. Also, she immediately wanted to hurl, but she stopped herself before she could make a big fuss and make any noise. [... There are sheets of pliable blue-horned beetle carapace on your left, four blocks of dehydrated wax glass right in front of you, and a ball of reed yarn dangling off that stick over there,] Eria said, listing everything off as it teleported around, waving at her atop one item at a time. [You undertowners discard a lot of useful things, do you not? Some of these items are still perfectly usable. They would sell for quite a fair bit on the surface.] With a quiet grunt, she ripped the ball of yarn down and dragged in the pliable carapace. ¡°But if they hadn¡¯t been discarded, I wouldn¡¯t be able to use them now,¡± she mumbled. Sweat poured down her brow as she folded each beetle carapace into half spheres, using her knuckles to press out all the unwanted dents and lumps, and then she pressed two halves together to see if they¡¯d fit. Once she was certain they¡¯d hold, she started biting the corks off the vials, asking Eria to keep track of which vial contained which extract. Their colours were quite stark in contrast¡ªone azure blue and one sulphur yellow¡ªbut now she was too focused on snapping the wax glass into perfect circles with her hands to keep an eye on them. Each crack that came from the wax glass breaking made her wilt a little, but thankfully the cricket was standing just far away enough. It didn¡¯t hear her do anything. Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit. Okay. The shells are done. I have six halves, so I can make three bombs and that¡¯s¡­ it. But each bomb¡¯s going to have twice the explosive power of the usual ones because there¡¯s a lot of bombardier beetle extract here, so I can afford to put more extract into each one. Are three bombs going to be enough to take the cricket down if I throw them directly at its hypersensitive legs, though? ¡­ ¡°Can¡¯t you read my mind?¡± she asked softly, her chin tuckered so far down it was almost touching her chest. Her hands were trembling as she tried pouring the extracts into her first two halves. ¡°If you¡¯re inside me and you¡¯re some sort of super incredible Swarmsteel, then, you can probably hear my¡­ my ¡®mind voice¡¯, right?¡± [Normally, I would be able to hear you even without requiring you to verbalise your thoughts, but it is as I said. Due to certain complications, I am not currently fully integrated with you,] Eria replied calmly, watching her place the wax glass onto one of the halves before pressing both together, tying them up with several cords of yarn. [Unfortunately, you will have to continue verbalising all your thoughts until I am integrated, which should not take much longer if we continue conversing and our synchronisation rate increases. With that said, what is the question you wanted to ask?] ¡°Oh. So that¡¯s why. I¡­ um, I just wanted to know if three of these bombs would be enough to take down that cricket if I throw them at it directly¨C¡± [No.] ¡°... No?¡± [Cave crickets may not be known for their robust chitin and strong musculature, but you must remember you are facing a giant insect, and not some lowly rabble bug,] Eria explained. [Its toughness must not be underestimated. A regular blade would not even be able to cut through its unprotected muscles, let alone its chitin. Furthermore, they are nocturnal and highly adapted to scavenging in enclosed spaces like this. You may be able to hit it square on once with your first bomb, but the moment it realises the bombs do little damage, it will not hesitate to pounce straight in for the kill¨C] ¡°So what if I do this?¡± She demonstrated, filling the rest of the bombs up in a particular pattern before binding the halves together with more yarn¡ªand Eria stood perched atop the first one she completed, mulling in silence for a little longer. [... It could work, but it would require more courage and precision on your end than I would like you to rely on,] Eria finally said, as she took it as her confirmation to slowly claw to her feet. Having spent the better half of the past hour laying on her stomach, she immediately started wobbling and had to stabilise herself by leaning against the wall; Eria tried to argue with her. [There is a safer method. Now that I know the exact type of bomb you have made, it is feasible if you do not kill the cricket at all. Throwing all three of them point-blank into its legs will disorient it long enough that you can circle around it, get to the ladder, and climb far enough that it would not be able to detect you by the time it recovers.] Cold slithered through her gut at the mention of a path that didn¡¯t require her to face the cricket, but she found the courage to shake her head quite firmly. ¡°I¡­ will kill it.¡± [Even though you were already so disgusted at the sight of something as small as me? It is not necessary for you to engage this cave cricket in battle. There will be more opportunities for you to demonstrate your prowess in safer environments, once you have checked your status, once your system is fully integrated and you can make the most out of it¨C] ¡°If I don¡¯t kill it here, I¡¯ll never be able to face the mister after I die.¡± [...] ¡°Besides, you¡­ you were the one who said it, right?¡± she said, managing a small, quivering smile, as she parted her legs and reared her left hand back; gripping her first bomb as tightly as she could. ¡°You said it. Remember. I can¡¯t¡­ I can¡¯t beat it in a battle, so I won¡¯t turn it into a battle." With the hand holding her other two bombs, she turned the dial on the pocket watch behind her waistband. She would end this in one minute. With an overhead throw, she sent her first bomb flying from her left hand, the sphere detonating and scattering beetle shrapnel in a small radius around the cricket¡¯s forelegs. The claustrophobic walls transformed the sewage room into an echo chamber of scrapes and screeching as the cricket raged, darting back from the site of impact as its antennae swiped the air in front of it. Tick, tock. Ten seconds passed it tried pinpointing the exact location of the thrower, and on the fifteenth second she took a step back herself and clapped her hands, stomping at the same time. The vibrations travelled fast, and the cricket noticed. Dark, beady eyes locked onto hers, and though she knew it couldn¡¯t see out of them, it didn¡¯t make her feel any less cowardly. [Get ready, Dahlia!] The moment it realised her bomb had barely left a scratch on it was the moment it stopped being so cautious. It still didn¡¯t have a good grasp on her strength, she was sure, but at the very least it knew it had to be faster. Otherwise, she wouldn¡¯t be trying to engage it from afar. So, it reacted accordingly. Thirty seconds passed. Batting the shrapnel on the ground away with its antennae, it pounced right at her¡ªcrossing ten the twenty metre gap between them within a single second. Just as she predicted as well. With an underhanded throw, she chucked her bomb to the frayed ropes overhead, a explosive flash of light accompanying the fan of shrapnel slicing through the ropes. The first falling crate missed its mark, and so did the second, the third, but the fourth crate fell head-first onto the cricket; this one dealt damage. Mounds of spiky metal slag cut across its chitin, falling between its muscular joints, slowing it down. It was a living being, still. Forty seconds passed. The heavy crate landing hard on its head slowed it down more than she¡¯d thought, so she managed to pick up a plank of wood to use as a shield. Her hands were sweaty. There was a storm in her ears. The cricket, no longer unsure, pounced straight at her in pure, unadulterated rage; its body swept through the remaining crates that¡¯d missed their mark, and its antennae were fanned out in front like they were going to spear through her chest. The moment its antennae slashed through the plank and cut across her forearms¡ªshe had to bite down a scream¡ªshe tossed her final bomb straight into its mouth. Its mandibles closed on it immediately, and the fiery explosion threw her violently back, eviscerating the cave cricket from the inside-out. Annihilation. One second its body was tight, compact, its adaptations perfectly suited for its environment, and in the next its internal organs burst through its chitin in a gory splatter of oil-like blood and digestive fluids. There was no screech. No dying throe. It went out just as it¡¯d arrived¡ªthat was, without any sound whatsoever. And, while she lay flat on her back with her fingers still gripped around the plank of wood¨C Ding! One minute passed, and her pocket watch stopped ticking down. She tossed the plank, hugged her own bleeding forearms, and gnashed her teeth so hard she felt they might just start cracking. [... Well done,] Eria said, waving at her from atop the dead cricket¡¯s head and beckoning her to come closer. [It was a well-planned feint. You put extremely little amounts of bombardier beetle extract into the first two bombs to make it believe the bombs are harmless, before feeding it the third bomb with over eighty percent of the remaining extract. Wonderful. Your artillery accuracy is not that much lacking, either, if you almost managed to hit its legs directly with that first bomb.] She exhaled sharply through her nose and tried to talk through the pain, though with a hundred emotions swirling through her chest right now, she could only really manage a quivering smile. ¡°I¡­ I killed it?¡± [Yes. You killed the giant cave cricket. Now, it is but only one of the weakest giant insects out there in the world, but killing one without engaging it in direct battle is a great achievement nonetheless. Now, because you have slain a giant insect, you can increase your basic attributes by gathering points from the slain insect. All you have to do is¨C] ¡°I did it!¡± she cried, tears squeezing out the corner of her eyes as she crawled onto her knees, panting and coughing and hugging herself even tighter as she tried to contain her shivering. ¡°I¡­ I killed it! I won! That¡¯s¡­ you know, I don¡¯t think any student in Alshifa has actually killed a giant insect before! Sure, we get called out to get rid of tiny insect dens here and there during training, but¡­ yes! Gratitude! You really are useful, Eria¨C¡± [Unmake the cricket and eat its flesh.] ¡­ ¡°... What¡­ What did you say?¡± she stammered, lifting her head slowly to stare at the little black bug. ¡°You want me to¡­ what?¡± Eria didn¡¯t miss a beat as it jabbed the cricket carcass with its pointy leg. [Eat the cricket.] Chapter 5 - Flesh Reallocation ¡°... What¡­ What did you say?¡± Dahlia stammered, lifting her head slowly to stare at the little black bug. ¡°You want me to¡­ what?¡± Eria didn¡¯t miss a beat. [Eat the cricket.] She didn¡¯t hear Eria wrong. The words weren¡¯t jumbled, her thoughts weren¡¯t scrambled, the giant cave cricket was dead before her eyes, and her heart was still¡­ pounding. Beating hard against her ribs. If she thought she¡¯d been calming down after her near-death encounter, she knew she wasn¡¯t now. ¡°What do you mean?¡± she breathed, eyes twitching as her fingers loosened for a brief moment and blood began trickling down her forearms. She doubled over in pain, teeth gritted, pressing her forehead into the wet ground. ¡°I¡­ I killed it already, didn¡¯t I? Why do I have to eat it? What''s the point¨C¡± [It is only by eating insects that you can gain points to increase your basic attributes. Please observe.] Eria swiped a leg horizontally, cutting empty air, and there was a small flash of light before something warped into existence¡ªa little black box about the size of her torso, so real and so corporeal-looking she could hardly believe it was just another projection.
[Name: Dahlia Sina] [Class: Undetermined] [BloodVolume: 4.2/4.8 (88%), Strain: 194/837 (23%)] [Unallocated Points: 0] [// BASIC ATTRIBUTES] [Strength: 1, Speed: 1, Dexterity: 8, Toughness: 1, Perceptivity: 3, StrainLimit: 837] [// MUTATION TREE ] [// UNIQUE SWARMSTEEL LIST ]
She leaned away from the suddenly bright light and forced herself into a squint. The written words were very small and difficult to read. [From top to bottom, we have your name, insect class, the measurement of your current blood volume, and the measurement of your strain limit. You can think of strain limit as ¡®stamina¡¯. Everything you do will increase your strain slightly, including when you use your class-specific insect abilities. The closer your strain is to one hundred percent, the closer you are to exhausting yourself to death,] Eria said. [After that, you have your six basic attributes. It is a bit more complicated than my explanation, but, generally speaking, one ¡®level¡¯ in strength, speed, dexterity, toughness, and perceptivity means you are equivalent to an average human in all those attributes. If you have five levels in strength, you are about as strong as five average humans. Understood?] ¡°... Okay? Confusion. So what does eating¨C¡± [If you want to raise your strength from level one to two, it will cost you one point. If you want to raise it from two to three, it will cost you four points. Each successive level will cost you more points to raise, and this applies for the first five attributes,] Eria continued. [For the sixth attribute that is strain limit, however, the cost is consistently one point per level. This is because strain limit is the representation of your stamina, and stamina is the easiest modification I can make to your body.] Then it paused for a second, giving her a second to digest the information. [Now, when you consume the flesh of an insect, you gain points you can use to increase your attribute levels, and the amount of points you get are based on the quality and quantity of the flesh. Per my analysis, consuming only the edible portions of the cave cricket will net you a total of five points to put into any attribute you want.] She listened closely, dearly, but the explanation still wasn¡¯t making much sense to her. ¡°But how does that¡­ work?¡± she asked, as she stared straight at the cricket once again; her gulp was so loud she feared someone from the surface might¡¯ve heard it. ¡°How does eating the cricket flesh increase my strength? My speed? Don¡¯t you need¡­ to specifically train those particular attributes? Issam and Amula and the others, they put months upon years of training on end just to make themselves take one step a little bit faster, and now you¡¯re telling me¨C¡± [That if you consume the entirety of this cricket and put all your points into strength, you will have the strength equivalent of three grown men?] ¡°Yes¨C¡± [That is exactly what I am saying,] Eria said firmly, and the status screen winked out of existence. [I am an Altered Swarmsteel System, a spinal implant that allows you to progress in strength via careful management and allocation of the biomass you will receive from consuming insect flesh. Are you aware that even without the Altered Swarmsteel System, any normal human can consume insects and experience rapid growth in much the same way?] She blinked. ¡°I¡­ we can?¡± [You can. If your ¡®Issam¡¯ consumes this cricket in front of you, he will also gain five points worth of attributes, though he would not be able to control where the increase in power would go without a system. Now, please, before the flesh spoils and its point value decreases¡ªeat the cricket.] Eria skittered off the carcass, and then she was left alone in the sewage room. Foetid waters rushing to her right, cockroaches scurrying between the heaps of trash on her left. She heard everything and smelled everything and saw everything, in brutal clarity¡ªthe blotchy black ooze spilling from the cricket¡¯s exploded head, the nauseating riot of toxic colours reflecting from its shattered chitin plates, the gut-wrenching spray of strewn organs and entrails dangling from its open thorax¡ªand even just the idea of sticking one of the more appetising strands of meat into her mouth made bile rise up in her throat. She tried, nevertheless. Reaching in front of her, she ripped out a single strand of meat from the cricket''s exploded head and stuffed it into her mouth, hoping it''d go down smoothly, quickly. She managed to swallow, actually¡ªbut then something inside her rejected the flesh, and she couldn¡¯t hold the bile back this time. As Eria tilted its little head, she doubled over and threw up the muddy black meat, clutching her stomach in pain. [... I understand it will take courage to consume insect flesh,] Eria said, in an artificially cool and soothing voice, sauntering under her face to wave up at her. [Statistically, eighteen percent of all Altered Swarmsteel System users react with visceral disgust when confronted with the idea of consuming insects in order to grow stronger. However, of those eighteen percent, ninety-five percent are able to come to terms with the idea within three minutes once they understand there is no other way to survive in this world. There are stronger insects up on the surface. Those who do not eat will be eaten.] ¡°I¡­ know that,¡± she wheezed, voice trembling between words, between breaths. ¡°I know¡­ I¡¯m weak. I know. Agreement. If it were Issam, he would¡¯ve¡­ he would¡¯ve already finished eating by now¨C¡± [Wonderful. You understand the gravitas of the situation. That would put you firmly in the ninety-five percentile of people who are able to come to terms with the idea of consuming insects. To make your first consumption smoother and easier, you can start by squeezing its muscles out of its hindlegs, before working your way forward to its forelegs and then its relatively soft antennae. At the very least, I believe you should be able to chew through the scape of the antennae, which will acclimate you to eventually chewing on the harder chitin plates¨C] ¡°But I can¡¯t eat it,¡± she finished, as she squeezed her eyes shut and hurled again; a horrid, retched, unseemly sight. Eria stopped talking to stare as she managed to look at the little bug weakly. ¡°I¡­ I can¡¯t. I¡¯m sorry, but I... I can''t¨C¡± [Five immediate points to improve your basic attribute levels however you wish should not be taken lightly, especially considering the levels of your current attributes. Level three in strength would allow you to carry three grown men on your back. Level three in speed would let you outrun a third of all the giant insects currently swarming Alshifa. Level three in toughness would mean your forearms might not have been slashed by that cricket just now,] Eria said calmly. [Please try again,] Dahlia gritted her teeth. She tried again, and she really tried¡ªstrand after strand, bite-sized chunk after bite-sized chunk, but she could never get the putrid flesh to go down her throat. It was more than just a mental incapability; it was as though she physically couldn''t stomach the idea of eating insect flesh, and even if she wanted to, she just... couldn''t. This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source. After seeing her throw up her fifteenth attempt at devouring the cricket flesh, Eria rubbed its head with a little leg. [Are you, perhaps, allergic to insect flesh?] Eria muttered. [It is rare, but... there have been cases of it on the surface, where the unfortunate user of a Swarmsteel System cannot consume insect flesh because they have an inborn ailment that prevents them from doing so. You might have that same ailment, but, if that is indeed the case, then why is it that I cannot...] ... Eria trailed off. She stopped forcing cricket flesh down her throat and simply knelt there on all fours, gasping and heaving for breath. [...Why am I unable to access the full depth of your memories?] Eria asked, almost impassively. [Normally, I should already have assigned you the insect class you are best fit for based on your memories and physiological information, which would allow you to spend points to unlock class-specific mutations. I had assumed my inability to do so earlier was because of the cricket¡¯s presence, heightening your internal temperature and making all biological information I receive inaccurate as a result, but your vitals are rather stable now... so why is it that I still cannot assign you an insect class?] ¡­ [Question, Dahlia Sina.] [When I first delved into your shallow pool of memories in order to pick a voice you would find most comfortable listening to, the voice belonging to ¡®Eria¡¯ was the first one that came up.] [Who is this ''Eria''¨C] ¡°There¡¯s¡­ there¡¯s another way I can increase my basic attributes and grow stronger, isn¡¯t there?¡± She asked, though she felt she already knew the answer, and she started crawling towards the cricket with her right hand clamped over her left forearm. She was left-handed, so, if nothing else, she needed her left hand to be in good condition in order to do what she was really good at. While she sat up straight and rolled her sleeves up to her shoulders, Eria stood atop the cricket¡¯s antennae, staring down at her. [There is,] Eria said hesitantly, [However, I must warn you that without first increasing your strain limit¡ªyour stamina¡ªby eating insects and gathering points, equipping excessive Swarmsteel will massively increase your strain, resulting in¨C] ¡°That¡¯s okay. I can deal with¡­ that,¡± she mumbled, as she reached into her pocket and pulled out a small, rusted chisel, biting the handle between her teeth. ¡°Ah¡¯ll do thish my oan waye.¡± [...] Eria stepped back, sensing she had no need for interference at this point, so she raised her head to let out a soft exhale before turning the dial on her pocket watch. One minute was all she¡¯d give herself before her forearm wounds needed to be sealed. Ignore the bulk of its body. Ignore its entrails. A cave cricket¡¯s best and most useful parts come from its legs. Her eyes snapped wide awake as she focused, glaring down at its forelegs with a burning intensity. She grabbed the cricket¡¯s left foreleg without hesitation. In general, an insect¡¯s legs were six-segmented, going from the ¡®pretarsus¡¯ at the tip of the leg to the ¡®coxa¡¯ connecting the leg to the body. The pretarsus ¡®claw¡¯ parts were usually most valuable, considering their application in blades and weapons, while the ¡®femur¡¯ parts were usually second most valuable, considering their high muscle density for armour and padding. Under normal circumstances she¡¯d be aiming to dismantle those parts for herself first, but a cave cricket was a little different. The cylindrical ¡®tibia¡¯ parts, located directly beneath the femur, were what she really wanted from the cricket. ¡®Cave crickets are typically nocturnal, enclosed-space insects,¡¯ she recalled from an old textbook, biting her lips as she did. ¡®Their eyes are not very good, so in return they have evolved tiny bristles on their tibia to serve as contact sensors. Their bristles are so sensitive they probably would not be able to control their own traction without them.¡¯ Tick, tock. If the cave cricket were any bigger, she¡¯d probably have a tough time dismantling its legs, but it didn¡¯t take her long at all to locate the joints she needed to cut with her chisel, or the muscles that needed to go if she wanted to remove its chitin. Her blade struggled a bit for a completely clean cuts, but after twenty seconds of heaving and groaning, she managed to separate the entire leg, blood oozing from the stumps. Somehow, she was able to ignore the putrid scents and went straight to carving the tibia¡¯s lower joint, isolating the cylindrical chitin before shaking it up and down to make the flesh inside slide out. That was the first part done. O¡­ kay. Now, wash the tibia and make sure only the cylindrical chitin remains. I don¡¯t need any of the leg flesh. With the heavy tibia in hand, she fell to her right and dipped it in the sewage water, letting the violent flow clean it thoroughly on the inside. ¡®Clean¡¯ was an incredible overstatement, of course¡ªit was still sewage water at the end of the day¡ªbut at least the blood and flanges wouldn''t stick. She let it soak for about twenty seconds before pulling it out, slamming the whole thing down on the ground in front of it. And finally, to split the hard chitin in half. She drove her chisel down and hit it right down the middle, thumb on the back of her blade. It wasn''t meant to ¡®cut¡¯. Her blade was too small for something like that, so instead she recalled her father''s teachings and ¡®splintered¡¯ it with impact force. The cylindrical chitin split into two uneven halves with a resounding crack, and she didn¡¯t waste anymore time. The sixty second mark came to a pass with a sharp ding as she slipped her forearms into the hollow cylindrical chitin, equipping them like bracers, and they immediately tightened around her forearms to stop her wounds from bleeding. Done. Her eyes softened for a moment when she felt a strange sense of tranquillity washing over her no longer throbbing arms. Then, she started itching and scratching at the spiky bristles on her bracers as the air seemed to chafe at them. [... The Swarmsteel melded with your forearms so easily?] Eria muttered, while she hissed and breathed heavily and tried getting used to the constant itching on her bracers. [I see. You cannot consume insect flesh to gain points because of your allergy, but if your body is capable of melding abnormally well with Swarmsteel, then it might not be immediately necessary for you to consume insect flesh. As long as you can continue making more Swarmsteel and equip them¨C] ¡°Show me¡­ my status screen again.¡± Eria obliged without another word.
[// BASIC ATTRIBUTES] [Strength: 1, Speed: 1, Dexterity: 8, Toughness: 1, Perceptivity: 3 (+8), StrainLimit: 837] [// UNIQUE SWARMSTEEL LIST] [2x Cave Cricket Bracers (Quality = F)(Per +8/17)(Tou +0/1)(Strain: +186)]
Her lips curled into a small smile. There was an additional ''plus eight'' next to her perceptivity level, meaning she was slightly stronger just by equipping the Swarmsteel bracers¡­ but then her eyes wandered a little further up the screen and she noticed something peculiar. She pointed at the Swarmsteel description with a shaky finger. ¡°It says¡­ up here, though, that I¡¯m only getting eight out of seventeen levels for perceptivity,¡± she said. ¡°Why?¡± [Because whenever you equip a Swarmsteel and it comes in contact with your skin, it begins to ''meld'' with your body, enhancing your basic attributes,] Eria answered quickly. [Currently, your cricket bracers are giving you eight levels in perceptivity, but the longer you have them equipped, the more attribute levels they will be able to offer as a result of them acclimating with your body.] ¡°Ah. So¡­ if I just keep wearing the bracers and get used to them¨C¡± [You will eventually be able to get all seventeen levels of perceptivity and one level of toughness, yes.] Dahlia looked down glumly. ¡°Oh. I see. I¡¯m just¡­ not that compatible with my own Swarmsteel, then.¡± [Do not beat yourself up over it. Even most experienced bug-slayers are not able to draw out their Swarmsteel¡¯s full potential on their first equip, and eight out of seventeen levels for a first equip is already far more than most people ever get,] Eria countered. [I did not suggest you strengthen yourself via the Swarmsteel route because¡­ well, because it is not sustainable in the long term without consuming insect flesh as well. Do you see the strain increase of one hundred and eighty-six next to your bracers?] She glanced up at the status screen. "Yes?" [You have a maximum strain limit of eight hundred and thirty-seven, and more than twenty percent of it has already been taken up by your bracers. Equipping Swarmsteel permanently hampers your stamina, so unless you increase your strain limit or unequip your Swarmsteel, you will always feel a little winded and exhausted.] ¡°But¡­ but I can¡¯t increase my strain limit without getting points, and I can¡¯t get points without eating insect flesh¨C¡± [It is indeed quite a conundrum. However, at the very least, you have carved out your own path of progression by making and equipping Swarmsteel for now, so it is not the end¡­ of the world¡­] ¡°...¡± Eria trailed off, and Dahlia knew exactly why. Her bracers¡¯ hypersensitive bristles were quivering slightly. [... Dahlia. While I would like us to take our time thoroughly unmaking the rest of the cricket for its parts, I fear¨C] ¡°It¡¯s faint, but I think¡­ there are more giant insects behind me,¡± she finished with a whisper, standing onto two wobbly feet before stumbling right into a wall. She¡¯d stayed kneeling for too long again. ¡°I have to go, right? I can¡¯t beat all of them¡­ right?¡± [Correct. It is regrettable, but you will have to leave the rest of the cricket parts behind. The ladder to the surface is right in front of you¨C] ¡°The bug trader.¡± She cast a long, hard look at the man lying still behind her, half his body still submerged in the rushing sewage waters. Further behind him, in the dark sewage tunnel, shadows moved and screeched and lumbered forward with ground-shaking tremors¡ªand though she wanted nothing more than to take the good man with her, she didn¡¯t have nearly enough strength to carry him up the ladder right now. Guilt flared up inside her, alongside a fierce protectiveness to not leave the man who¡¯d saved her life behind¡­ but she supposed, at the end of the day, that she was still a coward after all. She slapped her shaky hands on the first rung of the ladder and tore her eyes away from the bug trader. ¡°... Eria.¡± [Yes?] The little black bug appeared on her shoulder, and this time she managed to keep her disgust to a simple flinch. ¡­ ¡°... Thank you for putting up with me,¡± she whispered. ¡°But I¡¯ll be coming back for him once I get a little bit braver.¡± There was a brief pause before Eria responded with a small nod of its head. [I would like nothing more than that, Dahlia Sina.] [Now return to the surface and show me¡ªwhat has happened to Alshifa while you were down here?] Chapter 6 - The Ascent Little Dahlia rides on the shoulders of her mother, who is riding on the shoulders of her father. Her father is weak, but her mother is even more frail¡ªthey ascend the Southern Alshifa Hill without issue, and there little Dahlia starts unfolding the butterfly blanket to set up the picnic. ¡®Help Dahlia out, papa,¡± her mother says, scolding her father as he simply sits and stares out at the undertown. Little Dahlia shakes her fists angrily and complains the same. Her father laughs and leans back further. ¡°She¡¯ll be fine. She can do all the work alone because she¡¯s a strong girl,¡± her father says, as he winks at little Dahlia and pulls her mother in by the shoulders. ¡°Aren¡¯t you strong, Dahlia? You can do all the hard work while papa and mama rest on our backs, can¡¯t you?¡± Little Dahlia is foolish, so she says ¡®yeah!¡¯ with a cheerful smile and starts laying out all the food. Her mother chastises her father again, but he does not move to help little Dahlia out. ¡°It¡¯s times like these that we let the kids do the hard work. It¡¯d be sad if we just end up not catching the Alshifa night bazaar lighting up, wouldn¡¯t it?¡± he says. ¡°We can see the bazaar light up every night we want, but if Dahlia gets too tired to go to school tomorrow, that¡¯s one day of school she¡¯d forever miss out on,¡± her mother says. ¡°Besides, what¡¯s so special about the sight of the bazaar from up here? Why here? You know you¡¯re not that strong, so climbing those stairs with both of us on your back-¡± ¡°Is something I¡¯d have forever missed out on as well, if I hadn¡¯t decided to come here for our tenth anniversary.¡± Her mother is silent. Her father smiles. Little Dahlia is oblivious to the happenings around her, and she does not recall much of that evening. However, she remembers one thing her mother said¡ªhand in hand with her father¡ªwhen the Night Bazaar lit up on the first day of a new year. ¡°... I¡¯ve seen this sight ten anniversaries in a row,¡± her mother grumbled. ¡°It¡¯s not pretty at all.¡± Little Dahlia also remembers one thing her father said. ¡°You¡¯re much prettier right now than any Bazaar.¡± ¡°...¡± Little Dahlia remembers feeling deeply embarrassed for her father. - Scene from Southern Alshifa Hill past
The ladder from the sewage room to Alshifa¡¯s lower street was well over a hundred metres tall, and halfway up, Dahlia couldn¡¯t stop her palms from sweating anymore. There weren¡¯t any safety rungs around her. If her hands were to slip or her feet were to lose their balance, she¡¯d plummet straight down to where the giant, formless shadows were writhing about. If that were to happen, she hoped she¡¯d just die from the fall, but¡­ thankfully, she managed to reach the top of the ladder without slipping. Her nails flew over the edge to rake into a bed of hard cobblestone, and then the undertown came into view before she even pulled the rest of her body up. That was, an undertown undoubtedly dead and silent in the wake of the Swarm. ¡­ It¡¯s quiet. Where is everyone? As she rose dead centre in the middle of the street, she could immediately tell nobody was going to tell her to make way for carriages. Nobody was alive to tell her off. Between the shafts of cold moonlight that fell from the giant hole in the ceiling, she caught glances of broken bodies and mangled corpses littering the sides of the street, rivers of blood trickling down the slope and into the town square below her. The blood didn¡¯t stop at the square. It branched out, enveloping every road, every alley, a large shadow of a web littered with lumps of flesh and crumpled remains. The smell of it all was infused into the earth, the uprooted cobblestones, the rotten planks by the slums and clay tiles near the Night Bazaar¡ªit felt wrong like nothing else, like a scene of calamity from the Old Alshifa Records brought to life. If she hadn¡¯t already puked her guts out down in the sewers, she doubted she¡¯d be able to hold her stomach now. ¡°... Where are all the bugs?¡± she whispered, hunching her back and wading off to the side of the street as she did. Her sandals splashed across pools of blood, staining her toenails red and black. ¡°There were hundreds of them pouring out of the cocoon. Observed. Alshifa isn¡¯t that big an undertown compared to some others in the area, so where are they?¡± [In hiding, I would suppose. Giant insects still possess certain behaviours like your everyday critters. Most do not prefer standing out in the open.] Her eyes flitted nervously left and right, scanning the broken and ruined houses surrounding her. ¡°So they could just be hiding anywhere? Even though they¡¯re that much stronger than us and can overrun us all at any time?¡± [I would not say you, people of the Alshifa undertown, are completely defenceless when it comes to the Swarm. Take a look around you.] At Eria¡¯s request, she followed the little bug¡¯s pointing leg and spotted something incredulous¡ªa few incredulous things, actually. A giant beetle was speared from head to abdomen by a firefly lamps, impaled into the side of a two-story building. There were other giant insects similarly impaled by other firefly lamps: a few red-striped hornets, a few quivertail butterflies, a scorpion with its head and stinger skewered into the ground. The bloody handiwork was unmistakable; the bug trader hadn¡¯t gone this way while protecting her and Issam and the others in the carriage, so she knew only one other person in Alshifa who could¡¯ve defeated as many bugs as there were human corpses here. [... While we may have taken a one-hour detour down in the sewers and the majority of the townsfolk have fallen, it is still more than likely there are several surviving students of your Bug-Slaying School wandering about,] Eria said, before poking her shoulder to direct her gaze down the sloped street; in the direction of the southern shelter she was heading towards before her little detour. [Based on your most recent memories before you accepted the Altered Swarmsteel System, you were headed towards the town¡¯s emergency shelter in case of a Swarm invasion, were you not? It would be wise to go there first and regroup with the other students¨C] Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. ¡°I need to get to my dad,¡± she breathed, backpedalling and heading north in the direction of her house. ¡°It¡¯s¡­ it¡¯s not far away from here. Even if I walk at a snail¡¯s pace to avoid detection, it¡¯ll only be two hours, or three, and then I can¡­ and then I¨C¡± [Prioritising your own safety should be your primary concern right now,] Eria said, shaking her head. [Your father lives in a house atop a hill at the northern edge of the undertown, does he not? The Swarm should not have gotten to him. The bugs will not spread very far away from the Night Bazaar for a particular reason, so I would advise going to the shelter first. You require rest and sustenance.] Her ears flared with heat. ¡°My dad needs rest and sustenance. I was supposed to get staples for our dinner tonight and he hasn¡¯t eaten anything the entire day. If I don¡¯t get back to him with something, he¡¯s going to¨C¡± [You have nothing to offer him even if you go right now.] Eria¡¯s voice of reason slapped her in the face, loud and clear, and she forced her feet to stop moving without her commanding them to. [From here to your house, it would be a ten hour journey if you consider moving extremely discreetly. It is not likely you will find easy-to-swallow food on the way there. You will not be able to draw clean water from a well without making a fuss. Finding a roof to sleep safely under will be a nigh-impossible challenge with your body already being as exhausted as it is. If you go to your father right now, the chances of you surviving the next ten hours will be lower than one percent.] [I will respect your decision if you still wish to go to your father.] [But the quietest wings carry the weightiest wisdoms because they are the only wings that know not to fly in a storm.] ¡­ She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, exhaled heavily. Her heart was telling her to go to her father right this instant, but her body was saying no. Her body said ¡®you wouldn¡¯t make it if you went in this state¡¯. ¡°... Alright,¡± she whispered, as she pried her eyelids slowly open and nodded at Eria. ¡°I¡¯ll¡­ I¡¯ll go to the shelter. Reprieve. I¡¯ll sleep for a bit, then try to grab some food and water on the way before heading to my dad.¡± [That is a sound plan. Now¨C] Like a calm river¡¯s surface disturbed by a ripple, there was a tingling feeling on her bracers¡¯ bristles that alerted her to something behind her. Something moderately big. Something extremely fast, something incredibly sharp¡ªshe whirled and ducked at the same time, barely avoiding getting her head lopped off by the giant spider¡¯s talons. Her blood froze, and so did the rest of her body. Even in her utterly exhausted state, she recognised it as a grey wolf spider; a species with stout bodies and long legs and were agile runners, especially during the night. Eight beady black eyes arranged across three rows on its face stared blankly down at her, and for a few seconds both of them were unmoving. Unflinching. Silently appraising the other¡¯s fighting strength, as though a head-on battle between the ant and the titan was even going to be a close battle at all. ¡­ Eria didn¡¯t need to shout in her ear twice. She didn¡¯t need to turn the dial on her pocket watch more than once. A split second before the wolf spider lunged in with two talons hissing with venom, she jumped back and began sprinting down the street as fast as her legs could carry her. [Drawing upon shallow memories, processing, creating mental map of the Alshifa undertown¡­ turn left at the next intersection, then right, right, left, left, right¨C] ¡°I know how to get to the shelter! Familiarity! I¡¯ve been running on these streets my entire life!¡± she hissed in response, much harsher than she thought she¡¯d sounded in her own head, but the wolf spider was very close behind; she wasn¡¯t in the mood to hear Eria regurgitating simple directions. ¡°Do you know¡­ a method to shake it off? Distraction? I¡¯m kinda¡­ focusing! On running!¡± [Bringing it to the shelter would be the best option¨C] ¡°No! Don¡¯t! I won¡¯t bring it to everyone else! I have to deal with it here!¡± [That would be impossible. You are in no state to fight right now. This wolf spider is several times more powerful than the cave cricket you deceived back in the sewers. Its running speed is nigh-unmatched, and it will not fall for any sort of trickery. You must call for aid.] She bit her lips and slipped through a broken fence, ducking into a dark alleyway. The wolf spider crashed through the whole fence and slammed into the walls of a building, using its legs as brakes and anchors to slingshot itself into the alley. It wanted her badly, and it wouldn¡¯t stop until either one of them were twitching half-dead on the ground. Maybe I have to fight it, after all? But I¡­ I¨C She rounded a corner, ran around a firefly lamp, and then ran promptly into another firefly lamp. Her eyes went for a torrential swim. Her momentum halted completely as she stumbled a few steps back, closing the distance between her and the wolf spider, and no amount of shouting by Eria could get her feet to start moving again. No. My head¡­ my legs¡­ my eyes¡­ [Shout something! Make a ruckus! You have no other option but to hope for someone to hear you now!] Time seemed to move in slow motion as the exhaustion from the past few hours finally caught up to her. Vaguely she felt herself falling, pivoting on one foot to face the wolf spider in her final moments, but when her pocket watch rang with a little ding and the firefly bulb she¡¯d attached to it as a prototype glowed with the might of a tiny, tiny sun¨C ¡°Dahlia!¡± Two moth girls darted in from an adjacent roof in the blink of an eye, kicking the wolf spider into the side of a building, and then a mantis swordsman dashed past her falling body with his sword reared far behind his back. She¡¯d seen the silhouette of this swordsman many times before, training his unsheathing, his instant sharpening, and downwards cleaving all in one single motion. The wolf spider was only as big as the cave cricket was, so it didn¡¯t stand a chance as Issam¡¯s gleaming sword split its head apart with a cracking squelch. ¡­ [He¡¯s strong,] Eria commented idly as she fell onto her back, sheer fatigue claiming her body at long last. [Will he take you safely to the shelter, or should I inject a burst of adrenaline so you can run away?] She managed to shake her head before her mind started drifting off to sleep. That¡¯s Issam, she thought, though she knew Eria couldn¡¯t hear her inner voice. He¡¯s the second strongest student in Alshifa. [...] [... I see.] [I hear you.] [Then, I will patiently await your awakening.] [Once you reawaken and regroup with your friends at the shelter, you must figure out how to deal with this Swarm invasion together.]
Arc One, ¡°Night of the Black Stars¡±, End Interlude One - The Sina Boy Journal entry #2955 Year 80 since the Swarm descended and our ancestors retreated into the Alshifa undertown. Today was yet another unremarkable day. I tended to my house on the northernmost hill, watered the fields, planted a bunch of eggplants, and went to the General School where I stayed for over half the day. Then I stopped by the bazaar on my way back to pick up some food. Before I knew it, the firefly posts were dim and the town was asleep. Nothing unusual happened today. ¡­ Or so I would like to say. Early this morning, the moment I opened the front door with a loud yawn, my feet accidentally kicked something sitting in my way. At first I thought it might have been a stray cat from the orphanage below, but on closer inspection I saw it was a girl. Curled in a little ball, sleeping on my doorstep. Her tattered clothes were nothing like the ones I wore. They weren¡¯t bug-slayer clothes, either, from the Bug-Slaying School. Hers were¡­ hm. Poorly made? Her tunic barely covered her stomach, her skirt hardly covered her thighs, her little black and gold capelets were riddled with messy stitches. It was almost like the uniforms bug-slayers from other undertowns wore, but she was also too young to be a bug-slayer graduate. She had to be my age, though. Around fourteen. Maybe a bit older? It was hard to tell. She didn¡¯t wake up even when I accidentally kicked her, though, so I had to wake her up. I shook her many many times on the shoulder, and it took me about three minutes before I got annoyed and doused her with a bucket full of water. She sprang up like a stray then. The first thing she did after that was barge into my house and ask for food, which was¡­ ugh. I didn¡¯t have much to spare for her, but she looked really, really hungry, and her stomach was growling too, so I told her to just eat some of the bread next to the basin and stay there. I told her I¡¯d sneak out of school during lunch and come back to visit her. Then I went to school. I was anxious the entire time. Maybe I should¡¯ve just reported her to the orphanage, or maybe even to the guards. I don¡¯t recognise her from anywhere. I thought she might¡¯ve snuck in from another undertown at first, but then why would she have shown up on my doorstep? The only tunnels leading out of Alshifa are in the southern and eastern part of the town, and I live in the furthest north. How could she have stumbled through the entire town without anyone noticing her? As promised, I snuck out during lunch and rushed back home to visit her. It was a disaster. She¡¯d turned my cabinets and medical equipment upside-down while I was gone, and if I hadn¡¯t come back when I did she would¡¯ve one hundred percent hurt herself with the scalpel I¡¯d been practicing with on the table. She acted like a toddler who¡¯d never seen normal household items before. I spent an entire hour trying to get her to calm down and just eat her bread for lunch, but she was so easily excited and wanted to talk between every single breath¡ªnot that I understood a single word she said, anyways. She didn¡¯t speak Old Alshifan. I knew for sure, right there and then, that she wasn¡¯t from Alshifa. It has now been thirteen hours since I met her. Two hours before midnight. The town outside my window is dark, but the firefly cage in my living room is still burning bright. The girl is refusing to sleep on my couch, so I don¡¯t¡­ really know what to do here. Do I report her to the guards after all? What if they send her away? I mean, it¡¯s not everyday someone comes to visit me, so I can¡¯t exactly say I don¡¯t like the company, but¡­ ¡­ ¡­ Maybe I should just keep her around for a few more days and try to learn her name?
Journal Entry #2965 Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website. It has been one whole week since the girl arrived on my doorstep. She still doesn¡¯t speak Old Alshifan, and I have no idea what tongue she¡¯s speaking in. I tried looking for old language tomes in the school library to see if maybe she¡¯s speaking another undertown¡¯s tongue, but¡­ nothing. I can¡¯t match a single sound she¡¯s making to any recorded tongue. I think she¡¯s from up there. The ¡®surface¡¯. Of course, I tried probing her many, many times with lots of different hand gestures. I don¡¯t think she gets most of them. She just smiles and nods and laughs and then tries to bend my fingers, and¡ªoh, that¡¯s right, she can bend her fingers really far back. I don¡¯t know what¡¯s up with that. It¡¯s like she has no bones in her hands. Her fingers are also scarred and bruised all over, and I¡¯ve no idea why none of my ointments are working on them. It might be some sort of insect venom. I don¡¯t think I¡¯d be able to cure her of the bruises unless I actually go out and look for a doctor. ¡­ Honestly, I¡¯ve thought about just reporting her to the guards more than a few times this past week. She eats a lot. She makes a lot of sounds at night, she¡¯s very active and very dance-y at night. When Miss Lea from the orphanage came up here two nights ago to ask what was going on with my firefly cage, I couldn¡¯t just tell her some girl was trying to eat the firefly inside. How much longer can I keep her a secret from the rest of the town? Maybe I should just report her tomorrow morning.
Journal Entry #2982 I think I¡¯ve made a little breakthrough today. While we were eating dinner at the table today, I was just going through a lot of different hand gestures in the gesture book I borrowed from the library¡ªas usual¡ªwhen suddenly she responded to one of my gestures with a happy click of a tongue. She never clicks her tongue. She makes all sorts of strange and whiny sounds, and clapping in the middle of the night is just something she does for fun, but the sound she made with her tongue was a two-part thing. Like tick, tock. Tick, tock. The gesture she responded to was me making this symbol with my hands pressed together, this¡­ well, it¡¯s not so obvious if you look at my hands, but when you look at the shadow my hands cast on the table, it looks like a butterfly. Or maybe it¡¯s more like a moth? I don¡¯t really know what it¡¯s supposed to be. The explanation for what the symbol means is scratched out on the gesture book, but one thing¡¯s for sure¡ªthe girl knows more than she lets on. I¡¯m going to go through all the gestures in this book.
Journal Entry #3018 ¡­ I found a phonology table at the end of one of my language tomes today, so, since I¡¯ve been doing so well recently figuring out the types of gestures the girl responds to¡ªand by now I¡¯ve figured out she only responds to gestures relating to insects in some way, shape, or form¡ªI decided to sit her down after breakfast this morning to try to actually establish a path of communication. I¡¯m still not really sure what the phonetic language in the moth-cover tome is called, but imagine my surprise when the girl started clicking her tongue, tick tock, the moment she saw the table. After that, well¡­ ¡­ ¡­ I think it was twelve hours? I skipped school today. But she kept pointing at the same letters over and over again, in this very specific order, so I dismissed her after dinner to see if I could decipher what those letters correlate to in the Old Alshifan letter table. Right now, she¡¯s sleeping soundly on my bed behind me, not a care in the world. And I think¡­ I¡¯ve got her first word. Since she kept pointing to the letters and then to herself, I¡¯m assuming, very tentatively, that this might be her name. ¡­ So. If I¡¯m not wrong. And I could very well be. Her name is¨C - Excerpt from ¡®Secret Sina Household Journal¡¯, Written by Sanyon Sina Interlude Two - The Sina Household ¡­ He graduated from the Alshifa General School today. It was a momentous occasion¡ªthe youngest student to ever graduate as a fully-fledged doctor at the age of nineteen. The council wanted to throw him a special celebration and give him a house near the Bazaar, in the center of the undertown, but he refused quite quickly and simply rushed on home. He had things to do. Well, it was more accurate to say he had things to do every single day, but today was more special than any other day. His graduation ceremony was not particularly important to him. By the time he returned home at the northernmost edge of the undertown, she was already waiting for him, swinging on the chair they¡¯d built together on his front porch. Her feet were bare, she was wearing the sundress he¡¯d painstakingly stitched for her a year ago. There was a small pout on her face, and he wondered if she was going to chew him out for being ten minutes late. The fear didn¡¯t stop him from brushing his hair with his fingers as he walked up to her, extending a courteous hand. She crossed her arms and scowled up at him. ¡°You¡¯re lateeeee.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t ever complain about you being late when it¡¯s your turn to wash the dishes and I have to do them for you the next morning.¡± ¡°This and that are two different things.¡± She took his hand, still bickering, and the two of them threw on their hoods as they traveled down the hill. They went through every street, every store, every tavern and restaurant that''d accept customers after evening hours. Half the firefly posts in the undertown were extinguished during this time so the children could get a good night''s rest, but that was of no course to him; he''d come prepared with a single firefly cage just for the two of them. They stopped by an accessory stall that was about to close. ¡°Hey, what''s this?¡± she asks, as she picks up a necklace and hovers it before her neck. ¡°I''ve never seen this shape before! It kinda looks like a bunch of flowers shaped into a closed fist!¡± He dips his head in apology to the stall owner, whispering, ¡°She doesn''t go out often. This is her first time.¡± ¡°Hey! What are you telling them? This isn''t my first time out in town! It''s like, my¡­ uh, my third!¡± They squabble for a bit before the stall owner decides to just give her the necklace, saying it''s one that nobody wants to buy anyways. He dips his head once more before dragging her away, over to the only tavern that is still serving sweets at this time. She picked the window seat. He asked for the corner seat. The tavernkeep gets irritated and puts them in the middle, and they get neither the view nor the walls to lean against. ¡°If you''d just picked the window, we could''ve¨C¡± ¡°Just pick whatever you want,¡± he mumbled, sighing with his head in his hands. ¡°Day¡¯s not going so well,¡± he mumbles again. ¡°Can it be salvaged at this point? Maybe I should just try again tomorrow night?¡± She peeks over the menu she is holding up, squinting. ¡°What''d you just say?¡± ¡°Nothing. Just make your pick.¡± ¡°... Alright, then! I want two pieces of the honey-glazed soft bread, five copramint biscuit sticks, one hard cake with mushy strawberry paste layers, seven cold sour candy bars, a bowl of black starch balls in sweet bean paste, two hard-crusted sap-filled pies, two glasses of dark minute tea, and the weekly special undertown jelly¨C¡± ¡°Wait, stop, stop, stop. I don''t actually have that many coins on me. Can you get rid of one or two or five of those items?¡± ¡°You can eat them, too.¡± ¡°Of course I''ll be eating too, but that''s just too much food for one person.¡± She laughed and reached into her pocket, taking out a raw mantis leg. ¡°It''s never enough food for me, you know? I''m so hungry I''m even going to eat this now¨C¡± ¡°Please don''t.¡± Before he knew it, he''d grabbed her hand. A blunder. She stared at him for a few seconds, silent. ¡°... You don''t have to eat that tonight, do you?¡± he whispered, letting go of her hand as he averted his eyes. ¡°Just¡­ not tonight. Please. Just endure and hold it off until tomorrow. I''ll buy you everything you want to eat if you don''t eat that tonight.¡± Her eyes lit up. ¡°Really?¡± ¡°Really.¡± If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. ¡°... Okay," she mumbled. "Sorry.¡± The mood was a bit spoiled, but by the time the tavernkeep came out with their sweets she''d already stuck her mantis leg back into her pocket, so nobody saw. They''d surely be frightened if they saw her chowing down on raw insect flesh in the middle of the night. They might even call the entire night off if they found out¡­ and he was already asking a lot from the rest of the undertown. No reason to give them an extra excuse to turn his request down. After that, they traveled to the rest of the places on his itinerary. The Sarowan Garden. The Southwestern Racha Street. The Eastern Dangling, the Hanging Mansion, the Perch of Fifty-One; all places he¡¯d never brought her to before. If she felt tired, she didn¡¯t show any of it¡ªall good signs for the main event to follow. On the way back up to their house five hours later, they held hands and took turns pulling each other up the flight of stairs. ¡°... So,¡± she began, voice unusually squeaky, unusually taciturn. ¡°Why¡¯d you take me outside for so long today?¡± He didn¡¯t hesitate with his answer. ¡°I wanted you to meet and talk with some people for once. All you usually do is sit around the house dismantling Swarmsteel I bring home for you to fiddle with. It¡¯s no way to live at all.¡± ¡°It¡¯s the only way I can live,¡± she said, a wistful smile taking her face. ¡°If you tell anyone I¡¯m not from Alshifa and that you¡¯ve been keeping me a secret for the past five years, they¡¯re going to send me away.¡± ¡°...¡± ¡°Besides, I like being in the house! You bring lots of cool things back for me to take apart! You make things, I break things¡ªwe¡¯ll never run out of things to do!¡± He closed his eyes slowly as they reached the top of the hill. ¡°... That may be true," he said. ¡°But I don¡¯t believe, even for a second, that I can¡¯t make our social lives come true as well. ¡°I¡¯m the youngest doctor Alshifa has ever seen, after all.¡± She glanced back to ask him what he meant by that, but just then¡ªa dozen braziers flared to life before their house, and two hundred townsfolk jumped out from the bushes to cheer for the duo. The first thing she did, of course, was leap into the air and land in his arms¡ªlike a stray¡ªso his knees buckled for a second as he struggled to hold her up. But he¡¯d been training diligently for this night. He gritted his teeth and straightened his back like a real man before trudging forward, straight into the crowd of elders and instructors and students and children alike; they were all people who¡¯d known him for years, who he¡¯d helped while shadowing his retired master on her medicinal visits. They¡¯d done their job perfectly, setting up a massive feast and banquet on the hill, but he was more sweaty and tired than he thought he¡¯d be after walking around the undertown for the past five hours. He wanted a quick change of clothes first, so he carried her back into their house, the crowd cheering and laughing and throwing coloured paper strands at them as he did. ¡°... What?¡± she whispered, shrinking slightly in his arms. ¡°When did you¡­ How did you¨C¡± ¡°In light of my achievement being the youngest doctor Alshifa has ever seen, the council has granted me permission to take an outsider as my wife,¡± he mumbled, unable to meet her gaze as he smiled nervously at the crowd left and right. ¡°They won¡¯t look into your past. They won¡¯t try to send you away. All they are asking for is my continued excellency as a doctor, and you will be considered a proper part of the undertown. Any descendants we leave behind will also be extended the same grace.¡± ¡°...¡± It was sudden. He knew. He¡¯d not mentioned a single word of this to her the entire past year he¡¯d been setting this up, but this was the only way she, too, could walk in broad firefly light with him. He wanted to hold hands out in the town without being afraid of getting caught. He wanted to buy accessories for her without her having to keep her hood on. He wanted to eat sweets with her without her having to scarf down everything as quickly as possible. He wanted¡­ a party, like this, where all his friends could show up and congratulate him for all his hard work. Hadn¡¯t he done enough the past five years? Could he truly make the future he wanted with his own two hands this time? ¡°... And now that I¡¯m a doctor, I¡¯ll also find it,¡± he said, as he kicked the front door open and stopped by the doorway; somehow he found the strength to look her in the eye and smile like a proper man. ¡°A cure for your illness. I swear I¡¯ll find it. I¡¯ll make it so you never have to eat insect flesh again. ¡°So, uh¡­ ¡°... ¡°... We¡¯re already sleeping in the same bed anyways?¡± Maybe not the best line to end on. But instead of appearing disappointed, she looked unabashedly thrilled; eyes watering with amusement as her smile turned brighter than ever. ¡°You¡¯ll ¡®cure¡¯ me, huh?¡± she teased, tracing her finger across his face. ¡°You¡¯re welcome to try, but I¡¯m telling you, I¡¯d much rather we spend our time doing fun stuff together! Oh! Or when we have a kid, we can focus all our time on teaching them how to make and unmake things! They¡¯ll be the best of both of us, how about that?¡± He smirked. ¡°Well, you have to get a job first.¡± ¡°What? Why?¡± ¡°The entire town knows you exist now, so you have to get a job. I know you¡¯re frail, so I¡¯ve gotten you a recommendation at a repair shop fifteen minutes away from the house. You¡¯ll be speed dismantling everything that needs fixing.¡± ¡°But I don¡¯t wanna workkkkkk.¡± ¡°Great Makers, just go and have a try. Maybe you¡¯ll end up liking your work. If not, you can always just work for the Bug-Slaying School as a Swarmsteel Instructor, and our child will have an easier time getting into the school because you already know the syllabus.¡± She paused for a bit. And then she leaned past his shoulders, straining to stare outside at the impatient crowd. ¡°... Change out of sweaty clothes first.¡± She nodded. ¡°Party first.¡± He nodded. - Scene from Sina Household past Chapter 7 - The Swarm Shelter ¡°... Dahlia? Sweetie, you okay? What¡¯s wrong? Another nightmare?¡± ¡°N-No¡­ mom. There was just¨C¡± ¡°Another bug?¡± ¡°Mhm. It¡¯s¡­ over there.¡± ¡°Where?¡± ¡°There! Can¡¯t y-you see it? It¡¯s right there!¡± ¡°I can¡¯t see it.¡± ¡°Mom! It¡¯s right there! It¡¯s on your head! Six black legs! Ew! It¡¯s coming to get me!¡± ¡°Dahlia, Dahlia. Calm down. Deep breaths, heavy exhales-¡± ¡°No! Mom! Please, I can¡¯t- it¡¯s going to touch me! It¡¯s going to¨C¡±
Someone brushed the bristles on her bracers with a finger and she shot awake, snapping upright with her nails digging into her patchwork blanket. Where¡­ am I? Her face was sticky with sweat as she gasped for breath. When she looked nervously around, she found she was on a rickety metal bed surrounded by four walls made of thin tarp partitions. Dimly lit firefly cages were hung off hooks on wooden beams erected here and there, and she immediately recognised this giant infirmary-like hall. She was in Alshifa¡¯s Swarm Shelter, a nigh-indestructible building designed by the Great Makers from a century ago to withstand even the force of a falling star. Or was it a meteorite? She couldn¡¯t quite remember right now, but she was pretty sure¨C ¡°Oh, thank the Great Makers you¡¯re alive,¡± Issam breathed, putting his head in his hands as he sighed a great relief. His voice came as a surprise, so she whirled to her left to see him and his friends sitting on wooden stools next to her bed, all safe and sound. Only the twins bothered waving at her with cheery little smiles. Amula and Jerie were expressionless as Issam leaned forward and held her hands. ¡°I thought¡­ I was afraid you weren¡¯t going to wake up for a long, long time. Amula here told me I should be out trying to rescue more people, but¡­¡± Issam trailed off, staring solemnly around the tarp partitions that served as their little walls. ¡­ The sounds of the shelter weren¡¯t lost on Dahlia. Soft, keening wails came from behind every tarp, and the cacophony of cries and groans and gagged screaming coming from those undergoing surgery without so much as a bottle of alcohol to keep them light-headed¡­ she¡¯d heard these sounds many, many times before. Her dad had been a doctor¡ªthe best in town¡ªso she was more than familiar with what to expect from an emergency infirmary like this. She¡¯d never accepted her dad¡¯s offer to pour her a cup of alcohol whenever she watched him work, but right about now, with her forearms stinging and aching as much as they were, she¡¯d probably guzzle down an entire bottle without question. Why are they hurting and itching so much, anyways? She clenched her jaw, scratching her bracers as she did. It¡¯s like¡­ it¡¯s like they¡¯re squeezing down on me, crushing my bones¨C [It is as I said: equipping only Swarmsteel to increase your strength is not sustainable. The more powerful your Swarmsteel are, the higher your strain limit needs to be to endure the higher strain induced on your body,] Eria said, plucking the question from her mind as the little black bug appeared on her left shoulder. She blinked. Then she shivered from head to toe and hissed, scurrying off her cot and bumping into the tarp partitioner on her right. Someone immediately snapped at her to stay in her area. The twins immediately darted out their seats to see what was wrong, but Issam had already blurred over to grab her hands, brows furrowed. ¡°Dahlia? You alright? What¡¯s wrong? Do you need a doc¨C¡± ¡°No, no, no! It¡¯s fine!¡± she said, jerking her hands away as she continued scratching at her bracers, grimacing at the little bug dipping its head apologetically on her shoulder. ¡°I was just¡­ sorry. Disoriented. I couldn''t tell the time in here and- I don¡¯t know. I¡¯m sorry. I shouldn¡¯t have.¡± Issam didn¡¯t look the least bit convinced, but with the twins stepping past him to help her back onto her bed, he was left with no other option but to peek over the surrounding partitioners to apologise for the ruckus he¡¯d made. While Issam did that, she glared discreetly at the little black bug on her shoulder. You freaked me out. I thought you said you couldn¡¯t read my mind. [I can read your surface thoughts now,] Eria responded quickly. [After your battle with the cricket, I have gained a slightly better understanding of you as a person. I am still unable to assign you your insect class, but the more battles we get into, the deeper my understanding of you will become. Eventually, I should be able to delve into your deeper memories. It is vital we are completely in sync in order to maximise your full potential with the Altered Swarmsteel System.] She couldn¡¯t say, without hesitation, that she liked the idea of Eria being able to hear her inner voice now, but¡­ all things considered, it wasn¡¯t that terrible a step to take in the direction of her getting stronger. If Eria being able to hear her inner voice meant she¡¯d be getting faster responses in times of crises, then she¡¯d gladly give up a little bit of privacy. Al¡­ right. I understand. But please don¡¯t¡­ um, start talking whenever you¡¯re bored or¨C ¡°What are these things?¡± shorter-haired Ayla said, lifting her left bracer gently and squinting at the tiny bristles. ¡°Is this a Swarmsteel? From school? I don¡¯t remember seeing something like this in the armoury.¡± ¡°Because it¡¯s not in the armoury, idiot,¡± longer-haired Aylee said, lifting her right bracer and frowning in the process. ¡°It¡¯s shoddy. Custom-made. I bet the Make-Whatever here made it herself.¡± Ayla¡¯s eyes widened as she looked at Dahlia with newfound respect. ¡°Really? You made these? When? How? Did you kill a giant insect all on your own? Man, and the two of us plus Issam were having trouble taking down even one by ourselves! How¡¯d you do it?¡± For her part, Dahlia was blinking and gulping hard, not particularly enjoying the physical contact. ¡°I¡­ um¡­ I don¡¯t know. They¡¯re made from a giant cricket. The¡­ the forelegs of a giant cave cricket are sensitive to small vibrations, so I just¨C I took them. Correct. So I can feel danger coming from afar.¡± ¡°Oh, so you really did make it yourself,¡± Aylee mumbled. ¡°That¡¯s quite impressive. How long did it¨C¡± ¡°Can you fix our moth mantles for us, then?¡± Ayla chirped, standing and whirling around to show off the glimmering silver scale mantle missing a few scales here and there; they must¡¯ve been scraped off either by extremely fast movement or something extremely sharp. ¡°We¡¯ve been running ragged the past few hours trying to evacuate as many people as we can into the shelter, so our mantles are really not looking good. If we lose a few more scales, they¡¯ll lose their main functionality completely, so we¡¯d prefer to have them fixed before we go out again!¡± Dahlia lowered her gaze, staring and mumbling at the ground. ¡°I don¡¯t know if¡­ uh, I can do it. Or not. Uncertainty. I¡¯m not very good with¡­ fabrics and mantles.¡± ¡°Just try! We don¡¯t have the replacement moth scales here since they¡¯re still in the school¡¯s armoury, but we¡¯re planning on going there in a bit to get Amula and Jerie''s Swarmsteel back! Will you fix our mantles for us, then?¡± ¡°I¡­ maybe. Maybe I¡¯ll fail. I¡¯m not sure¨C¡± ¡°How are you feeling, Dahlia?¡± Issam said, shooing the twins away from her as he plopped down on his stool cross-legged, his whetstone mantis scythes folded behind his back. His warm smile immediately gave her the strength to look him in the eyes, and his were¡­ bright. Sparkling sapphire. Full of hope, full of courage; they were nothing like her dull amber eyes. ¡°We found you running from that wolf spider eight hours ago while we were trying to look for more survivors, but¡­ I heard a bit from Ayla and Aylee? You killed a giant insect all on your own?¡± Hearing Issam say it aloud made her feel a little bit strong, but all she could manage was a tiny nod, eyes squeezed shut. ¡°I killed¡­ a cave cricket,¡± she whispered. ¡°A cave cricket?¡± ¡°Down in the sewers. After the bug trader¡­ after he gave his life to protect me.¡± Everyone¡¯s faces darkened. She didn¡¯t think the atmosphere in the shelter could get any gloomier, but it did. ¡°... Tell me what happened after we split up,¡± Issam said softly. She looked worriedly down at Eria, but even without receiving a response, she knew she shouldn¡¯t tell any of them about the ¡®Altered Swarmsteel System¡¯ that could talk in her head and allocate points to increase her strength. It wasn¡¯t that she didn¡¯t trust Issam to listen, but there was no telling how the others¡ªAmula and Jerie especially¡ªwould react knowing she had such a powerful Swarmsteel implanted in her spine. Would I die if you leave my body? [No,] Eria answered promptly. [I am capable of being transferred to another vessel without severely hurting you. All you need to do is will me to leave, and I will depart.] But would they try to take you from me by force? [Well. If you value your safety, it would be prudent not to disclose my existence to everyone for now,] Eria said. [Can you trust all of them to not rip me out of your neck the moment they know you have a system?] The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement. ¡­ She bit her lips and tried not to make her gulp too obvious. Issam alone she was willing to tell, but with everyone else sitting around her like this, she knew what she wanted to say and what she wanted to leave out. So she took a deep breath and started talking. It might¡¯ve taken ten minutes, it might¡¯ve taken twenty. She recounted everything that had happened to her after the hornet annihilated their carriage, sending both her and the bug trader down into the sewers. She recounted the bug trader¡¯s death, the cave cricket¡¯s arrival, and altered the story of how she killed it a little; there were lots of heavy crates dangling from the ceiling, so all she did was cut the ropes and had the crates crush it to death. Then she made bracers out of its forelegs before climbing her way up to the surface, where she eventually ran into Issam and the twins while being chased by a wolf spider. She felt it was quite a smooth and logical story the way she told it, all things considered. She didn¡¯t think she¡¯d be able to lie to them so easily, but maybe they only looked convinced because she¡¯d never been a big talker in the first place. ¡°... You did well.¡± Issam patted her head, sending her a small smile as the twins chatted with Amula and Jerie in the back. They were saying something about crickets, and supposedly about how hard it was to kill a giant one. ¡°It¡¯s¡­ a shame the bug trader didn¡¯t make it out of there alive, but without his sacrifice, we wouldn¡¯t be here together like this. I must thank him again the next we meet.¡± Dahlia pursed her lips. ¡°There were other bugs down there when I left. Unlikely. His corpse is probably already¨C¡± ¡°But you still want to give him a proper funeral, don¡¯t you?¡± ¡°...¡± ¡°We will go together once this is all over,¡± he said firmly, leaving no room for argument before shifting in his stool to make himself more comfortable. ¡°Besides, the five of us weren¡¯t planning on just sitting here waiting for something to happen. After you and the bug trader were sent flying off the railings, we managed to scramble into this shelter before the strongest of the Swarm could break through, but¡­ we left a lot of people out there when we locked the doors twelve hours ago.¡± The twins stopped chatting. Jerie opened a single eye to look glumly down at the floor. Amula exhaled lightly through her nose, and Issam continued after lifting his chin a little¡ªbut Dahlia caught it. That flicker of weakness, that moment of hesitation; it was yet another new expression she¡¯d never seen before among the catalogue of Issam¡¯s expressions she remembered in her head. She didn¡¯t have to imagine very hard to know what all of them might be feeling, weighing down on their shoulders. She¡¯d left the bug trader down there as well. ¡°... Since the Swarm stopped banging on the doors ten hours ago, we¡¯ve sent out pheromones flares only humans can detect to tell survivors to come here,¡± Issam said, wiping his nose and pointing up at the windows on the second floor of the hall; all of thems were sealed shut and boarded up with wooden planks. ¡°But even after an hour of waiting, nobody came. We think maybe the giant insects are giving off their own pheromones that mask the smell of the evacuation flare, so the three of us¡ªme and the twins¡ªhave been going out periodically to bring in survivors ourselves. Including you, we¡¯ve rescued five new people. That puts the total population inside this shelter at three hundred and eighteen people.¡± Three hundred and eighteen. Last she remembered, there were well over three thousand townsfolk in Alshifa. Three thousand people¡­ and only ten percent survived the first twelve hours, she thought glumly. That¡¯s¨C [An unusually high percentage of survivors for a Swarm invasion, yes,] Eria said idly. [Most Swarm invasions on small and unprepared towns end with a ninety-eight percent fatality rate. I surmise that ten percent survived in Alshifa only because someone in this shelter had taken charge and ensured the survivors did not devolve into chaos.] [Your ¡®friends¡¯ are very impressive in that regard.] She blinked. Ten percent is ¡®unusually high¡¯? [When you consider the speed at which most Swarm invasions occur, ten percent is far too high for a small town like Alshifa.] [Now, the question is¨C] ¡°Who¡¯s¡­ taking charge of the shelter right now?¡± she asked aloud, before shying away from the five pairs of eyes homing in on her all at the same time¡ªbut she didn¡¯t have to wait long for an answer. Issam dipped his head slowly, clearing his throat. ¡°Nobody¡¯s taken charge, really,¡± he said. ¡°Of the three hundred and eighteen people here, none are from the council and none are from the guards. None of the Bug-Slaying School Instructors are here, too. Most are people who lived around the shelter, so they got here first and set up the partitioners before we even stumbled in. As far as I know¡ªas far as I¡¯ve checked, at least¡ªthe only ones in here who have any combat training are the six of us fifth-years from the Bug-Slaying School, as well as thirty or so first to fourth years all sitting around in the back right now.¡± Dahlia¡¯s face blanched. ¡°There¡¯s no Instructors here?¡± ¡°None whatsoever. They must be trying to suppress the Swarm outside, but we don¡¯t have any means of communication with them.¡± ¡°And¡­ no guards, either? Nobody on the council?¡± ¡°We have four doctors here. They¡¯re not on the council, but seeing as most everybody here needs medical attention, they¡¯re the closest people we have to emergency leaders.¡± Her questions seemed to have brought down the mood even further, and Issam¡¯s eyes were especially sunken. He was giving her a ghost of a smile, but it was a feint meant to distract her from the grim reality¡ªhelp from outside was most certainly not going to arrive anytime soon, if it was even going to arrive at all. Dahlia had seen it herself when she¡¯d climbed out of the sewers. The rivers of blood, the sky¡¯s silence, the giant hole in the ceiling and the way moonlight fell so softly down into the town; the three hundred and eighteen people in this shelter could already be all that was left of Alshifa. In that case¡­ in that case¡­ Despite the pain and itching in her forearms, she swung her legs off the bed and swallowed a massive gulp while she was at it. She¡¯d not gotten the best eight hours of sleep, but it wasn¡¯t like she¡¯d been sleeping particularly well the past two years anyways. What was most important was that her muscles felt a bit light, a bit rested; she could see herself being able to walk from one end of the town to another without having to sit down even once. O¡­kay. It¡¯s only been eight hours since I fell asleep, right? [Correct.] Her stomach was growling lightly, but at least nourishment didn¡¯t seem to be a problem for the shelter, seeing as there were jars of dried food lining the walls by the giant steel gates. If she asked nicely, she was almost sure the nice old man standing guard by them would give her at least a single loaf of bread and a half-filled water gourd on her way out¨C ¡°Where are ye goin¡¯?¡± Amula snapped, snatching her wrist the moment she tried walking off to the front gates. The older girl¡¯s eyes were strikingly sharp, her spiky hair tied up in an unusual little bun behind her head. ¡°We just saved ye, brought ye back here, and now yer just gonna leave? To where? The hell are ye tryin¡¯ to do?¡± ¡°I have to get my dad,¡± she said, biting her lips and trying to slip her wrist out of Amula¡¯s grip. ¡°He¡¯s not here, isn¡¯t he? I know. Certainty. If he were here as one of the doctors, the partitions wouldn¡¯t be set up like this. He doesn¡¯t like square sections. He¡¯d have made triangles because it¡¯s his favourite¨C¡± ¡°We¡¯ve already sent out the evacuation pheromone flare.¡± Issam jumped to his feet and slipped between the two of them, separating their hands with a single chop before snatching Dahlia¡¯s for himself. His eyes pierced into her face, firm and unwavering. ¡°Your dad will smell it. Out of everyone in this town, I¡¯m sure he knows what the plan is in case a Swarm invasion happens. He¡¯s a doctor, after all. He¡¯s most likely already on his way.¡± ¡°You said it¡¯s been twelve hours since you guys bolted the shelter gates shut, right? Then why isn¡¯t he here already? ¡± ¡°Because¨C¡± ¡°Because something happened and he needs my help!¡± she said, as she kept on walking, struggling to drag Issam along with her. ¡°So¡­ let¡­ go! I won¡¯t let him stay there! I need to know¡­ that my dad¡­ is still safe!¡± ¡°It¡¯s dangerous out there!¡± Issam snapped back, and the suddenness of his raised voice made her jump a little. How long had it been since she heard him sounding angry? Back when they were kids? ¡°There¡¯s another reason why I haven¡¯t left the shelter to bring in more survivors after I brought you back, and that¡¯s because the bugs that are still crawling out there aren¡¯t bugs I can handle! The weaker ones I¡¯ve already killed with Ayla and Aylee¡¯s help, but every single giant bug out there right now will kill us. Even¡­ even I can tell.¡± ¡°...¡± Eria whistled. [The boy is sharp. He would make a decent bug-slayer on the surface¨C] ¡°Then I won¡¯t fight,¡± she said, twisting her forearm so the bristles on her bracers scratched his palm, making him let go with a quiet hiss. ¡°I¡¯ll sneak my way to my dad. Quiet. Then I¡¯ll bring him back here, and then¡­ and then I can help you guys all you want, okay? I promise I¡¯ll make myself useful, but only after I get my dad back. ¡°So please. ¡°Let me go.¡± Issam¡¯s face was unreadable. She could see Jerie carefully wrapping the wooden flute in his lap with a towel, hear the twins whispering something in each other¡¯s ears, and Amula glaring at her as though trying to test her resolve, but only Issam¡¯s face alone remained a mystery to her. Was he angry at her for being selfish? Was he disappointed in her? When had her one and only ¡®friend¡¯ gone and grown up with a face she couldn¡¯t decipher at all? ¡­ Why did we really become friends in the first place, anyways? It can¡¯t just be because we lived near each other. Someone bright like you shouldn¡¯t be hanging out with someone dreary like me¨C ¡°We¡¯ll go with you, then,¡± Issam said, all of a sudden, his face cleared of any hesitation as he turned to nod at everyone. The twins hopped onto their feet without question, Jerie stuffed his wooden flute into the back of his waistband, and Amula rose slowly with her eyes closed, though her brows were still clearly locked in a scowl. The twins in particular didn¡¯t waste any time standing in the back. While Issam and the rest of them stretched their limbs and picked up empty satchels, the twins went ahead to ask the old man by the gates for a few pickings of food and water gourds; evidently, they weren¡¯t planning on leaving the shelter unprepared. It was Dahlia¡¯s turn to stand completely still, her frown pure and bereft of any hidden meanings. ¡°But¡­ why?¡± she breathed. ¡°You have things to do here, right? People¡­ you can help other people. You¡¯re strong. You don¡¯t have to¨C¡± ¡°We¡¯re not helpin¡¯ ye for ye, alright?¡± Amula muttered, as she caught a satchel full of bread from the twins and slung it over her shoulders. She didn¡¯t look at Dahlia as she continued, ¡°Issam has his mantis whetstone scythes and the twins have their moth mantles¨C¡± The twins turned Amula¡¯s way as they trudged back, frowning briefly. ¡°Why do you two take yours off every single day after training, anyways?¡± Ayla grumbled. ¡°We¡¯re fifth-years. We can carry them even outside of school¨C¡± ¡°But mine and Jerie¡¯s are still in the armoury,¡± Amula finished, hitting Ayla over the head with a fist and flicking Aylee¡¯s forehead as she did. ¡°Without our Swarmsteel, we won¡¯t make it all the way to the northern end of Alshifa where yer dad¡¯s staying. We need them back. So, we¡¯ll make a little detour to the school before we head north, just like we¡¯d been plannin¡¯ on doing even before Issam picked ye up.¡± Eria shrugged on her shoulders. [The shorter-haired twin did mention returning to the school to pick up the seniors¡¯ Swarmsteel earlier. You should consider accepting their offer. It is significantly safer for you to travel as a group than as an individual.] Dahlia was still inclined to decline their offer¡ªif they recovered their Swarmsteel, she feared they might insist on immediately returning to the shelter to protect the rest of the townsfolk¡ªbut Issam finally ran out of patience. He grabbed her by the hand and led her towards the front door, a bit of smugness hiding underneath the flush of a smile he sent back at her. ¡°We¡¯re friends, aren¡¯t we?¡± he said. ¡°We¡¯ll escort you to your dad and get him here. He¡¯s a doctor, no? The shelter could use another one.¡± ¡­ She tried to say something, to tell Issam off, to throw a tantrum or make a fuss or do anything she could do within her ken of reason to not drag someone else into her troubles¡ªbut Issam¡¯s hand was so, so warm once again, and even trying to shake her head felt like an insurmountable task. Why couldn¡¯t she say anything? Why couldn¡¯t she stop him from leading her out the front door, the twins, Jerie, and Amula in tow? ¡­ You¡¯re always dragging me around, aren¡¯t you? Really. Why do you¡­ care so much? And Issam, unlike Eria, couldn¡¯t hear the little voice in her head. [Perhaps it is because he, too, has very quiet wings.] Chapter 8 - The Western Textile Street ¡°... Mister Biem! Mister Biem¨C¡± ¡°¨Cthat¡¯s Instructor Biem to you, Ayla¨C¡± ¡°¨Cwe still haven¡¯t found Dahlia! She¡¯s the only one the seeker squad can¡¯t find!¡± ¡°What do you mean you can¡¯t find Dahlia? How far could she¡¯ve run in five minutes? Issam even found Raya two minutes ago, and if we assume she hasn¡¯t left the bounds of the training area¨C¡± ¡°The textile street¡¯s completely crowded, Mister Biem! And she runs around here a lot, so she must know all the super secret hiding spots!¡± ¡°So?¡± ¡°So we give up! We¡¯re tired! Can we get some water now¨C¡± ¡°No. This class isn¡¯t ending until everyone is found, including Dahlia. I¡¯m not leaving her out here by herself.¡± ¡°But, Mister Biem¨C¡± ¡°¨Cthat¡¯s Instructor to you¨C¡± ¡°¨CDahlia lives here! She¡¯ll be fine even if we don¡¯t manage to find her, right? She can just go right home if that¡¯s the case!¡± ¡°... No student of mine will be left unaccounted for. Get Issam over here as well. Have everyone spread out. I want her found in the next ten minutes or you¡¯re all getting extra lessons tomorrow after school.¡± ¡°But, Mister¨C¡± ¡°¨Cthat¡¯s Instructor to you.¡± - Conversation from Western Racha Street past
Seven in the morning. Twelve hours since the Swarm cocoon crashed through the ceiling and one hour since Dahlia got the go-ahead from all four doctors of the shelter to open one of the emergency escape tunnels. It was a tight, claustrophobic squeeze in the back of the shelter, but supposedly the tunnels were built to run everywhere in a hundred-metre radius of the shelter¡ªmeaning, by the time the six of them poked their heads out into an abandoned building and gasped for breath, ¡®sunlight¡¯ was already pouring in through the broken windows. ¡­ It¡¯s golden. So¡­ bright. ¡®Sunlight¡¯, like she¡¯d read in the textbooks, was something warm. Something to admire. Something that sparkled in her eyes and kept everyone locked in a trance for a good few minutes before Issam clapped his hands, jolting them back to reality. It wasn¡¯t wise to just stand around even if they were under a roof. Giant bugs could be afoot anywhere, so they¡¯d chosen to crawl as far away as they could from the shelter, and they were well-dressed for a semi-lengthy expedition. Anticipating cold outside the shelter¡ªas Alshifa usually was without any of the firefly lamps lit¡ªthe twins had made everyone wear long sleeves, tight-fitting trousers, keeping most of their skin wrapped under layers¡­ but if Dahlia had known sunlight was so warm, she¡¯d have stuck with her short-sleeved tunic and gypsy skirt. ¡°... Maybe it¡¯d be better if we just leave our shawls here, huh?¡± Aylee muttered, speaking her thoughts as the twins removed their extra layers, tossing them off to the side. ¡°Not like last night in the shelter was too cold, anyways. These will only slow us down if we have to break into a sprint. We¡¯ll pick them up on our way back from the school and Dahlia¡¯s house if we have to, yeah?¡± Everyone agreed without making much of a fuss. Amula was the only one who didn¡¯t start moving her hands, her eyes still staring blankly out at the great hole in the ceiling letting sunlight fall through, and Issam had to tap her shoulders a few times before she got to undressing. Does she¡­ hate the sun? Dahlia frowned a little as they all hung their shawls on wooden rods by the walls, but decided asking what her senior was thinking probably wasn¡¯t going to end in success¡ªso she bit her tongue and forced herself to focus, following Issam¡¯s lead out the creaky front door. Out of the abandoned clothing store, she swivelled her head left and right and was able to immediately pinpoint their location: the Western Racha Street, where the roads were narrow and the stores were built low, but with a lot of textile-themed flair. Hand-sewn charms dangled from every doorway, large tapestries painted over with blue and red hung from every roof''s edge, and drying clotheslines were strewn all across the street. It was the street where all the cheery-go-lucky tailors and seamstresses and patternmakers lived and worked, but¡­ Gulping, she tried not to look at the dark spots in the corner of her eyes as they crept along the sidewalks. Her nose was keen enough to determine what the spots were¡ªcorpses, remains of children and elderly alike, staining the street in tens and hundreds of rancid-smelling lumps. It was just like with the street she¡¯d crawled onto out of the sewers, and it was just like the Night Bazaar at the town square; the Swarm must''ve hit the textile street hard and fast. The unknowing and unaware must''ve had no time to even think about running to the shelter before they caught the attention of some grotesque bug, and¡­ she didn''t want to imagine the rest of it. She would''ve been just like the lumps on the ground had Issam and the bug trader not been there for her. If she could just tilt her chin up and ignore the lumps, she could maybe envision the textile street as it was just last night, when she''d been running as fast as she could towards the Night Bazaar¡ªthe seamstresses sitting on little stools outside their shops while yelling at her to slow down, the children from the Alshifa General School running around complaining about their pointless apprentice chores, and the old vagrant man she¡¯d never learned the name of sitting just round the corner, always so kind to give her a piece of salted candy whenever she passed by. She could see it all, still. And when something went squelch under her boots¡ªeven though they were all trying their damndest to stick to the side of the street to avoid stepping on any lumps¡ªshe couldn¡¯t stop herself from looking down. It was a soft, gel-like, liquified hand, with all its colour sucked out the skin. Its flesh and blood must¡¯ve been syphoned by an oversized moth, she immediately assumed, but it wasn¡¯t the hand itself that made her flinch; it was the little silver ring still curled around its index finger that made bile rise up her throat and her hands shoot over her mouth. Old man. You¡­ you didn¡¯t¡ª ¡°I remember, back when we were still third years at the Bug-Slaying School, that Instructor Biem used to make us play hide and seek around this street,¡± Issam said idly, as the twins gently moved her along and Amula nudged the liquified hand out of the way. Jerie didn¡¯t speak, but he nodded slowly at Issam¡¯s comment as the two boys walked side by side. ¡°He¡¯d always split the class into two teams: the hiders would have a five minute head start to find a solid location, and the seekers would have ten minutes to find everyone or earn a beatdown from Instructor Biem. The winning team would get to go home early while the losing team would have to do extra bug-slaying training¡ªam I the only one who misses those third-year games he made us play?¡± The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement. Amula grunted and crossed her arms behind her head, smirking with a gentle expression Dahlia had never seen on her before. ¡°Ya know, ye and Raya were the only ones who enjoyed that stupid game. When me and Jerie were third years, Biem didn¡¯t make us play around this street. We were at the northern slums where the firefly lamps were never lit and we had to wade through whole, thick walls of vines just to get bugs crawlin¡¯ into our mouths. All of ye had it easy.¡± ¡°Hey, it was only easy for Issam and Raya,¡± Ayla said, chortling lightly as she whacked Aylee and Amula on the back. ¡°They were always on the same team, so whether they were hiding or seeking, they¡¯d always win no matter what¡ªthere¡¯s no real fun to be had for the rest of us when all we get is a beatdown from Biem¡¯s staff every time we played hide and seek.¡± Issam turned to scowl at the twins. ¡°It¡¯s not my problem the two of you always start talking when it¡¯s your turn to hide. You don¡¯t exactly make it difficult for me when I¡¯m the one seeking.¡± ¡°Yeah, but then you and Raya also hide in places we literally can¡¯t get to,¡± Aylee muttered, as they passed a particularly tall firefly lamp and she pointed up at it. ¡°It¡¯s this one, right? Either you or Raya would just climb up there, stand in plain sight, and literally nobody can climb up to touch you. It¡¯s a load of crap. And we couldn¡¯t even use any of our Swarmsteel while we¡¯re playing that game, too, so there¡¯s just no way we could ever reach you.¡± ¡°You could¡¯ve always just jumped at me if you climbed onto that roof over there.¡± ¡°You want us to jump at you? And fall?¡± Issam shrugged. ¡°Amula could do it. Right, Amula?¡± Amula scoffed, narrowing her eyes at the firefly lamp they were leaving behind. ¡°Of course. I ain¡¯t that weak.¡± ¡°Speak for yourself. Only you could¡¯ve done it. Nobody else is as physically capable as you are,¡± Ayla mocked, kicking the older girl in the back of her knees and laughing. ¡°Heh. Yeah, I don¡¯t have any good memories of that game. It¡¯s completely stacked against normal people. I don¡¯t think Raya and Issam have ever lost a single game¨C¡± ¡°Actually, there was that one time we lost,¡± Issam said, musing aloud with a finger on his chin. ¡°It was¡­ right around the end of our third year, I think. A bit under two years ago. It was when Dahlia finally started showing up to class again, and Instructor Biem wanted her to at least play the game once with everyone.¡± ¡°Once¡­?¡± Ayla and Aylee muttered at the same time, looking straight at her before they clicked their tongues in unison. Ayla¡¯s eyes lit up. ¡°Oh, that¡¯s right! There was that one time Dahlia joined! That was¨C¡± ¡°The worst game of hide and seek we¡¯ve ever played,¡± Aylee groaned, rubbing her eyes as she did. ¡°It lasted, what, five hours? Well after the council sent the guards to tell Biem to call off the game and send us home? But Biem said he wouldn¡¯t stop his ¡®training¡¯ until we found Dahlia, so they got into a little scuffle and¨C¡± ¡°Biem spent the night in a holdin¡¯ cell,¡± Amula mumbled. The twins laughed and slapped the senior¡¯s back. ¡°I¡¯ve heard this story before, but I was a fourth-year when that happened. So that¡¯s how it went down, huh?¡± Issam hummed softly, grinning back at all of them. ¡°Dahlia really threw all of us for a spin back then. Even Raya and I couldn¡¯t find her, and we were sure we knew all the ultra secret hiding spots. And you¡¯d think at least Raya would be able to sniff her out with those freaky senses of his¡ªin the end, was it the guard who found her or someone else? I don¡¯t remember very clearly.¡± ¡°You just walked out, right?¡± Ayla asked, as she elbowed Dahlia before leaning in close. ¡°Hey, just between the two of us, even though I know you never told anyone where you hid¡ªwhere were you back then? What¡¯s the spot? I was thinking of stealing Aylee¡¯s mantle and hiding it somewhere she wouldn¡¯t be able to find it, so it¡¯d be really cool if¨C¡± ¡°It¡¯s¡­¡± Dahlia started, her mouth opening almost unconsciously as she was swept up in the flow of conversation, and it was only when everyone turned to stare at her again that she snapped wide awake. Immediately, she felt like shying away from the centre of attention. [I am curious, too,] Eria commented, the little black bug staring at her from her shoulder. [Where did you hide?] She didn¡¯t blink. I wasn¡¯t hiding. [What do you mean?] Heat flushed onto her cheeks. I didn¡¯t know you couldn¡¯t use Swarmsteel during the game, so in those five minutes I borrowed a few butterfly parts and made a camouflage mantle. Then I just¡­ slept outside a store for a few hours. Eria tilted its head. [I see you were already putting together Swarmsteel two years ago, then. You should just come clean and tell them the truth.] Why? [Because they have tried their best to keep your mind off the carnage in the streets, and now you are nearing the Great Alshifa Bridge leading into your school without having vomited once.] ¡­ ¡°... It¡¯s a secret,¡± she whispered back to Ayla, her ears burning red, and the shorter-haired twin reeled away before beginning a barrage of soft blows to her ribs. Aylee and Issam started pestering Ayla for the answer she received, while Amula and Jerie kept on walking steadily forward with their heads lowered¡ªbut Dahlia felt she could see the smallest of smirks tugging on Jerie¡¯s lips, and a ¡®don¡¯t care¡¯ expression on the side of Amula¡¯s face. They left the Western Racha Street behind them and began ascending the slope to the Bug-Slaying School. [... You have strong allies.] She closed her eyes slightly and ignored Ayla¡¯s shakes, her heart beating a steady rhythm in her chest. I know. And so they climbed the rest of the slope with haste, with a bit of speed in their steps, slowing only when the soft earth beneath their feet turned into hard wood. The air was significantly colder up here, and even sunlight from the hole in the ceiling couldn¡¯t reach in full¡ªit basked only half the fortress-like school on the other side of the bridge in its swirly, diffused orange glow. Built a solid fifty metres above the rest of the town, the Alshifa Bug-Slaying School was as imposing and frightening to look at as ever. The railings lining the edge of the cliffs were made of sharpened steel and surrounded the building on all sides. Fragrant plants and vegetation were nonexistent on the fields outside the front gate, the three-story castle-like building itself shaped from pure earthen-tone bricks. She remembered her dad saying it looked like a prison from afar when she first saw it, and that harmless comment had frightened her so much she refused to go to school alone every morning for the entire first year. She eventually got used to its appearance, but if there was one thing that hadn¡¯t changed and one thing she was still afraid of, it was the Great Alshifa Bridge that everyone had to cross to get to the school¡¯s front gate. Since the school was built atop a separated hill that wasn¡¯t directly connected to the slope they were on, the architects from a few decades ago had to build a sturdy wooden bridge just to let students walk across. At ten metres wide and thirty metres long, the bridge wasn¡¯t really dangerous to traverse¡ªthere were railings and plenty of support pillars underneath to keep people from falling off¡ªbut Dahlia just couldn¡¯t help but feel a little antsy whenever she had to cross it. That was once in the morning, once in the afternoon was enough for her, and if the metal nuts and bolts didn¡¯t rattle beneath her feet she¡¯d maybe have gotten over her fear a long time ago¡­alas, it was still the only feasible way to get to the school right now. And, normally, there¡¯d be a single Instructor standing guard at the end of the bridge to keep non-students out of the school. Now, there was no Instructor. ¡°... Off to the side,¡± Issam whispered. ¡°Hurry.¡± They didn¡¯t need telling twice. All of them darted behind a mound of crates before the bridge and stayed in cover, their hearts hammering resoundingly in their chests. Dahlia could hear them. Her bracers were brushing against Aylee¡¯s back and Amula¡¯s shoulders, and if that wasn¡¯t enough, even Jerie¡ªever the stoic¡ªlooked the slightest bit worried peeking out at the thing sitting in the centre of the bridge. It absolutely didn¡¯t look like anything they could defeat with the weapons they had on hand. [A giant¡­ beetle,] Eria murmured, as the little black bug crept over the edge of the crates to steal a glance at the giant bug. [It may be sitting there dormant, but it would most certainly detect you if you were to approach it. Sneaking past it would not be an option.] It was just as she¡¯d feared, then. She just knew their detour to the school¡¯s armoury wouldn¡¯t be an easy one. ¡°... Well, then,¡± Issam said, as he ducked back under cover to grimace at all of them. ¡°Anyone have any idea on dislodging that thing from the bridge?¡± Chapter 9 - Steel Thread ¡°... Dahlia. Bring me that little knife over to me. The scalpel.¡± Little Dahlia waddles over to her father¡¯s satchel and rummages around, brows scrunching. ¡°There¡¯s no knife! Can¡¯t find!¡± Her father turns to glance at her, looking a bit irritated. ¡°It¡¯s there. I know it is. Check the side pocket where the bars of bloodstone are. It should be right there¨C¡± ¡°Oh! Found it!¡± She¡¯d never seen nor heard of a ¡®scalpel¡¯ before, but she¡¯d seen her father use the little knife for his surgeries many, many times before. As she runs back over to hand him the scalpel¡ªnearly slipping on the floor as she did¡ªthe man with the bleeding leg groans on the bed. While her father hands him a second small glass of alcohol, little Dahlia stands on her toes to stare straight into the man¡¯s eyes. ¡°Will he be okay, papa?¡± ¡°He¡¯ll be fine,¡± her father mumbles, cleaning the scalpel with a wet towel. ¡°It¡¯s just a small vessel puncture. I just need to cut here to remove the wooden shrapnel, and then the most difficult part will already be done.¡± ¡°But why not use a bigger knife?¡± ¡°What?¡± Little Dahlia points at the scalpel in his hand. ¡°Small knife! If you use a big knife, then you can cut faster and fix him faster, right?¡± The man on the bed chuckles and chokes on his alcohol. Her father scolds him to lie still before turning to sigh at little Dahlia, holding his scalpel up at her. ¡°Dahlia. When it comes to dismantling something, do you know what is the most important skill to have?¡± ¡°Speed!¡± ¡°No.¡± ¡°Strength!¡± ¡°No.¡± ¡°... Smarts?¡± Her father chuckles and rubs her head. ¡°It is to focus not on the instrument, but on the ¡®instinct¡¯ you have developed through years and decades of effort and training. When you¡¯ve cut as many men open as I have, you¡¯ll start seeing that instinct manifesting in the form of a thin, steel thread¡ªand when you see that thread, it won¡¯t matter what instrument you have in your hands.¡± He pauses for a moment. ¡°Follow the steel thread,¡± he says, ¡°and there will be nothing you can¡¯t dismantle.¡± Little Dahlia blinks. And then she tilts her head. ¡°... Hah?¡± ¡°You and me both. Your papa¡¯s a cryptic as ever.¡± The man laughs again, and her father snatches his glass of alcohol away from him. ¡°Just be quiet, both of you,¡± her father mutters. ¡°Now watch, Dahlia. This is what following the steel thread looks like.¡± - Conversation from Akkar Household past
Sunlight glinted off the giant beetle¡¯s obsidian-hued chitin. More slender than fat, its massive thorax plates overlapped one another, each of its folded legs ending in gigantic hooks. Sharp and long antennae protruded low on its forehead, and even curled up they were easily over twice the length of its body¡ªand the worst part was, its body wasn¡¯t ¡®small¡¯ by any means. Sitting right there in the centre of the bridge with its elytra vibrating softly, the beetle had to be at least ten metres long, five metres tall, so its antennae could easily shoot forward and spear all of them through the crates if it knew they were there. Whether it could fight with its antennae or not, Dahlia couldn¡¯t deny its attack range was far, far higher than that of the cave cricket; picking a fight even with six people jumping on it wasn¡¯t going to be simple at all. ¡°... Well, then,¡± Issam said, as he ducked back under cover to grimace at all of them. ¡°Anyone have any idea on dislodging that thing from the bridge?¡± The twins poked their head over for a split second before ducking back under as well. ¡°We can just try to sprint past it,¡± Ayla said. ¡°We can go under the bridge and swing our way across,¡± Aylee followed up. Jerie immediately whacked their heads with his wooden flute and shook his head. There was no need for a discussion; the twins¡¯ proposal was too dangerous, and the beetle had to be slain no matter what. The six of them were fifth-year bug-slayers, and simply leaving it there on the bridge was not an option. ¡°You all reckon I can split its head open with a good, well-placed chop?¡± Issam murmured, glancing at Amula and Jerie as he did. ¡°It don¡¯t look like any beetle I recognise, but it¡¯s not the usual fat and bulky type we see in our textbooks. Maybe there¡¯s a chance I can¨C¡± ¡°Pine-sawyer beetle,¡± Dahlia mumbled, and all eyes went onto her. She clenched her stomach and forced herself to at least finish the rest of her sentence. ¡°It¡¯s¡­ not particularly fast. Not particularly good at flying. But its mandibles and claws can easily chew through hard wood because that is what they eat. So. It¡¯s got good attack power¡­ and¡­ um, while its armour is pretty strong¡­¡± She trailed off, wondering how to end her explanation. ¡°... Issam can probably cut its head open if he can cut right through the middle of its head,¡± she finished, sucking in a deep breath. ¡°It has to be perfect. Immaculate. It doesn¡¯t have the toughest chitin of all the beetle species, but it¡¯s still pretty¡­ tough. You need to cut between its chitin plates.¡± Issam nodded. ¡°Got it. Go straight for the head and kill it in one good blow. Anything else I need to know?¡± ¡°I still don¡¯t think we should fight it,¡± Aylee said, backed by her twin sister nodding furiously. ¡°I mean, we don¡¯t have to kill it now. If you think swinging under the bridge is dangerous and reckless for you, then the two of us can do it. We can sneak past, get Amula and Jerie their Swarmsteel, and then we can kill it together on our way out. Right now, only half of us can fight at our full strength¨C¡± ¡°Don¡¯t you feel it, Aylee?¡± Aylee followed Issam¡¯s gaze towards the school, on the other end of the bridge. ¡°Feel¡­ what?¡± she asked. ¡°There¡¯s something strong inside the school,¡± he said, almost casually, as his eyes lingered on one of the dark second floor windows. Dahlia squinted at it, but couldn¡¯t see anything herself. ¡°If the two of you go in alone, you won¡¯t come back out to us. Just as well, if we all sneak past that beetle without killing it, it¡¯ll prove troublesome when we enter the school while Amula and Jerie don¡¯t have their Swarmsteel on them¡­ but Dahlia¡¯s here with us, you know?¡± Then he turned and glanced at Dahlia, smiling softly. ¡°If we kill that beetle now, she can turn some of its parts into Swarmsteel that¡¯ll make all of us just a little bit stronger. Then we can deal with whatever¡¯s inside the school together.¡± Everyone went quiet at Issam¡¯s lengthy prediction, because they all knew, very distinctly, the nickname everyone called him by in school. ¡®Gut-feeling¡¯ Issam, the second strongest student in the history of the Alshifa Bug-Slaying School. Whenever it came to identifying danger, and whenever it came to figuring out whether a fight could be won or not¡ªeveryone always betted on him. ¡­ Dahlia swallowed a hard gulp. She wasn¡¯t about to challenge his intuition, but that last part about her being able to turn the beetle¡¯s parts into useful Swarmsteel was a little dubious. [Issam speaks a smidgen of truth,] Eria whispered. [Whether there truly is an unwanted presence inside the school, it would be best if everyone is equipped with at least one or two defensive Swarmsteel. That beetle can provide you with the raw materials. You should kill it¨C] ¡°We¡¯ll kill it, then,¡± Amula said, cracking her knuckles and stretching her legs as she squinted out at the beetle. ¡°Can¡¯t say me and Jerie can fight all too well without our Swarmsteel, but we can dance around a little, no problem. All you need is one good cut, ya? Sure ye won¡¯t miss it when we find ye an opportunity to jump in?¡± Issam stood up with a groan, unsheathing his sword and unfolding his mantis scythes as he did. ¡°Shut up. If there¡¯s an opportunity, I will take it. I just need the four of you to show me its attack patterns first.¡± ¡°The twins can do that,¡± Amula said. ¡°Ayla. Aylee. Go play around with it.¡± ¡°Got it, boss!¡± The twins gave Issam a mocking salute before vanishing, tendrils of smoke whirling at their feets, and by the time Dahlia blinked and realised they were gone¨C The two golden-haired sisters leapt in a cross over the beetle¡¯s head and cackled, waking the dormant giant from its slumber. Stolen novel; please report. ¡°Here! Swing at me!¡± ¡°No, not at her! Go for me!¡± It took the giant beetle a moment to realise two annoying little bugs were jumping around its head, but when it finally did it moved, without hesitation¡ªAyla was soaring right over its right elytra while Aylee was balancing one-legged on the railings to its left, and both its antennae shot at their throats with deadly precision. Its antennae were twenty metres long, after all; serpent-like, they could flick and whip around like two extra legs protruding from its head. Cold slithered through Dahlia¡¯s gut as she rose from her cover, trying to call out the beetle¡¯s unusual attack pattern to the twins¡­ ¡­ But she didn¡¯t have to do that. The beetle¡¯s antennae shot straight and true. They knew where their targets were. How far they had to extend. How hard they had to pierce. But just as the twins were about to find themselves impaled, they fanned their mantles backwards with synchronised laughs, and out came a flood of withered leaves¡ªand the antennae pierced nothing but leaves. Dahlia could faintly see the twins darting around¡ªacross the railings, over and under the beetle from every conceivable direction¡ªbut it was hard to tell where exactly they were. Their mantles were nigh-perfect camouflages in the swirl of withered leaves. [Those are angle moth mantles,] Eria murmured. [Swarmsteel made from the parts of one of the more elusive and hard-to-spot moths in the world. By themselves, the mantles aren¡¯t particularly useful or effective in environments without autumn leaves, but with the amount of leaves they already had stashed and now scattered around¡­ they are not amateurs who cannot draw out the true potential of their chosen Swarmsteel.] [They are quite a capable duo.] ¡­ They¡¯re not known as ¡®Phantom Twins¡¯ Ayla and Aylee for no reason, after all. Though lacking in attack power and chitin-piercing capabilities, the twins were a nightmare for the giant beetle to catch. They jumped and dashed and darted around, aiming kicks at joints and blurring away to avoid a counter swipe, before jumping back in to kick at another weakened joint¡ªand the seniors rushed forward with Issam as well to back the two of them up. The beetle couldn¡¯t possibly hope to catch the twins, so it settled for stabbing its antennae at the unarmed duo instead. Amula and Jerie weren¡¯t defenceless, though. The older boy whacked one of its antennae away with his wooden flute while the older girl redirected another with a downwards kick; an opportunity for Issam to step in. Before the beetle could yank its antennae out of the bridge, Issam stepped in calmly to sever one of them, mantis scythes screeching as they sharpened his blade for that one strike¡ªa clean, successful cut. One antennae down. The giant beetle screeched and lumbered a few metres back, backing into the railings, but the twins were already there kicking its hindlegs to weaken its retreat. The beetle screeched again. Its entire body tilted upwards as though it were losing its balance, presenting its abdomen for all to see, and Dahlia¡¯s heart hammered in her chest as she found herself biting her nails anxiously. They¡¯re strong. And even without their Swarmsteel, Amula and Jerie are holding their own. One of her nails cracked as she bit down on it a bit too hard. That¡¯s¡­ that¡¯s what bug-slayers are supposed to be like. So why am I¡­ ¡­ ¡­ But something was off. The hunt was going a bit too well. Hadn¡¯t Eria told her, back in the sewers, that at the end of the day they weren¡¯t hunting lowly rabble insects? And the instant she saw Issam rushing impatiently forward to swing his sword up through the underside of its head¨C The beetle contracted its muscles and closed the gap between its chitin plates, just barely managing to trap Issam¡¯s sword under its head. Nobody expected it. The beetle whipped its head to the side with a deafening screech and snapped Issam¡¯s blade in half, before twirling its whole body around like it was swinging an axe. The hindlegs that the twins had weakened must be numb, because it had no issues using them like blades to cleave through the railings, shattering four of the ten supporting pillars. Its legs would¡¯ve decapitated Issam had Amula and Jerie not pushed all of them down at the last second, but still, a heavy gust of wind blew away the swirl of withered leaves¡ªand suddenly, the twins stood out in stark contrast to the rest of the cavern¡¯s stony walls. Dahlia could see them looking stunned mid-jump over its elytra. The beetle could see them, too. ¡°Ayla! Aylee!¡± Amula shouted. ¡°Twist and dodge¨C¡± The twins kicked off each other and narrowly dodged the antenna that stabbed at them, but then they were plummeting, falling over the edge just to grab onto the railings at the last second. Shoulder bones went popping out of their sockets. The twins cried out in pain, and the beetle chittered, slamming its head down into the bridge as though trying to make the entire construct crumble. The tables were turned in an instant. Jerie was dragging the wounded Issam back while Amula had already managed to crawl back onto her feet, but they were all wounded. Wooden shrapnel had flown all over and some found their way into Amula¡¯s arms, into Jerie¡¯s legs, one particularly large shard jutting out of Issam¡¯s right shoulder. It wouldn¡¯t be easy for him to swing his half-broken sword again. With a bellow that almost sounded like a cackle, the beetle reared its head back and screeched¡ªtaunting, laughing, jeering at them for thinking they could overpower it through the tiny seams between its chitin plates. [... Dahlia! This is not a good situation! Retreat and re-engage after you get your allies to safety¨C] ¡°Dahlia! Get Issam and Jerie outta here!¡± Amula shouted, as she squared her shoulders and held up two shaky fists, standing in the beetle¡¯s way. ¡°Yeah! Just¡­ just leave us for now! We¡¯re okay!¡± Ayla shouted, a faint voice from afar as the sisters groaned, trying to pull themselves over the railings. ¡°Don¡¯t¡­ worry about us! This much¡­ isn¡¯t much!¡± Jerie, too, was staring back at her with pleading in his eyes, as though beckoning her to at least drag Issam down the slope and back into the textile street where they can hide under a roof¡ªbut the downed swordsman himself, Issam, was gritting his teeth and glaring at her with eyes that said otherwise. Dahlia looked between him and everyone else, her breaths coming out quickly, anxiety electrifying her muscles. Panic threatened to engulf her. Indecision spread throughout all her limbs, stopping her from making a single move. I¡¯ve gotta do something. I¡¯ve gotta help. But what can I¡­ possibly¡­ ¡­ Issam was still glaring at her, his knuckles white around the hilt of his broken blade, and it was the glint of steel on the jagged tip that made something click in her head. Don¡¯t think about it like it¡¯s a giant bug. Think about it like it''s¡­ a pocket watch. A trinket. She slipped out the rusted chisel she¡¯d been hiding under her left sleeve. The world seemed to still. The temperature seemed to plummet as she faded out all sounds in her mind, and everything fell silent. ¡­ I can¡¯t kill a giant bug. But I can dismantle a trinket, right? Eria had been talking up a storm just a moment ago, but now it felt as though even her personal assistant was feeling the same thing she was feeling, smelling the same thing she was smelling, seeing the same thing she was seeing¡ªand that was, without a shadow of a doubt, the faint trail of steel dust running from the tip of her chisel to the underside of the beetle¡¯s head. It wasn¡¯t a hallucination. It wasn¡¯t a mirage born of fear, or a delusion born of desperation. Even from afar, she could see the steel thread clear as day, and though her hands were still trembling and her heartbeat was thundering in her chest¡­ She took one step forward and turned the dial on her pocket watch, counting down from sixty seconds in her head. Tick, tock. The beetle¡¯s remaining antenna flew past Amula with a sharp whistle, a black blur of a spear, but she¡¯d seen it attack like this before. The steel thread told her to twirl her chisel in a circle next to her head¡ªso she did, squeezing her eyes shut, and its antenna deflected off her bracer. Bounced off. A sharp pang of pain still shot into her arm, but she traced the seams in its spiralling chitin plates with her chisel, severing its remaining antenna. Her eyes twitched as she started sprinting full speed ahead. She could see it in front of her. Tick, tock. The beetle let out a pained screech as it backed away. Legs came at her swinging, and there was nothing practised or elegant about them. They were attacks she¡¯d already seen used against twins, against Amula and Jerie, and she¡¯d seen Issam bat them away with the flat ends of his sword. The steel thread told her to do the same. When the steel thread showed she had to curl down, she bent her body along with it and dodged the first leg. She sidestepped the second and the third leg when the steel thread told her chisel to go wide, blade pointed slightly down, and she barely had to use any force; the beetle¡¯s sweeping movements made it cut its own legs open as they swung along the tip of her chisel. Tick, tock. Its hindlegs were already weakened. The twins ensured they were, so the beetle had trouble backpedalling as she closed the distance, nearing its head. The fourth leg finally came out stabbing, but Issam had already smacked it away once before, so it was a shaky attack riddled with the fear of pain. She simply followed the steel thread and jerked her head hard left, dodging it with only a small cut grazing her cheek. As the beetle backed into the sturdy metal front gate and failed to backpedal any further, it attempted screeching and flapping its elytra to summon a violent burst of wind, but all of a sudden¡ªAmula and Jerie jumped back into the fray. They leapt off the half-broken railings, off the metal gate, and then slammed their heels down on its elytra to keep its wings from moving. She was too focused on the steel thread to look up, but she swore she saw Amula mouthing something at her. ¡®... Go.¡¯ She gritted her teeth and pressed on. The final burst. The final stretch. Gathering every bit of courage she had in her tiny body, she pushed herself forward¡ªher legs carrying her under the beetle¡¯s head in the span of two seconds, and the beetle knew she was going to try to attack. She saw the desperation in its obsidian eyes, its unwillingness to give up without a fight, so it slammed its head down like a hammer striking an anvil, aiming to crush her before she could go ahead with whatever she was planning. But she¡¯d seen that head slam attack as well, so she took a step back right before she entered its crushing range, dodging it by the breadth of a hair. Tick, tock. It felt like time was running slower just for her. A second felt like an eternity. The beetle¡¯s head was still lodged in the ground, its fully armoured forehead presented before her like a table she could set a plate upon¡ªbut the steel thread was drawing a line along the tiniest seams in its chitin plates, and her chisel was no longer trembling. She wasn¡¯t breathing. Dismantle it. Swift as a serpent striking its prey, she slashed along the steel thread, targeting the seams on its forehead. Membranes split underneath her blade, tendons breaking with a series of quiet snaps. Her mind didn¡¯t know what exactly she was doing, but her hands knew what to do, so she let them take control. Let her instincts take control. The days she¡¯d spent accompanying her dad out on his surgeries, the nights she¡¯d spent with her mom learning how to dismantle any trinket with her bare hands¡ªit may have been a while since she had a good talk with either one of them, but she remembered every last one of those fruitful days, every last one of those joyful nights. So when her pocket watch sounded the ding that marked the passing of one whole minute, she ripped the beetle¡¯s chitin plates right off its forehead. She didn¡¯t have to say anything. Right on cue, Issam leapt over her head¡ªhis mantis scythes sharpening his half-broken blade with a loud, deafening screech. [... You really have strong allies,] Eria remarked. And Dahlia closed her eyes as Issam¡¯s blade plunged through the beetle¡¯s forehead, impaling the giant bug straight into the bridge. She was¡­ beyond tired. Exhausted. Her eyes felt like bleeding following the steel thread, and she wanted to fall asleep. ¡­ You already said that once. Chapter 10 - Temporary Class Dahlia¡¯s knees buckled the instant Issam plunged his broken sword into the beetle¡¯s head, and the rest of the giant bug¡¯s body went limp after a few more seconds of quiet twitching¡ªit wouldn¡¯t be walking off its injury this time around. They¡¯d won. They¡¯d slain a giant insect together. [... I have narrowed down your temporary insect class,] Eria said, in a much more metallic and lifeless voice than usual, and Dahlia finally sucked in the breath she¡¯d been refusing to take the entire last minute. Blood-tinged air rushed into her lungs, warming her throat; she knew she couldn¡¯t fall asleep now and become a burden on everyone else. As she blinked and struggled to stay awake¡ªlooking at Jerie helping Amula up, watching the twins climb over the railings, and Issam yanking his broken blade from the beetle¡¯s head¡ªEria tapped her cheek from atop her shoulder and asked again. [Your temporary insect class has been narrowed down,] Eria repeated. [Would you like to check your status now?] ¡­ While everyone else limped over to the giant beetle carcass, chortling and slapping each other¡¯s backs, Dahlia finally managed to let go of the chisel she¡¯d used to dismantle it alive. Her hands were trembling. Her eyes watered and burned with overexertion. She hadn¡¯t ¡®killed¡¯ it by herself, no¡ªif the twins hadn¡¯t weakened its legs and the seniors hadn¡¯t kicked its elytra down and Issam hadn¡¯t jumped in for the finishing blow, all she¡¯d have done was strip off plates of its armour for no real purpose. It wasn¡¯t like she¡¯d overcome the beetle by herself. Still, she¡¯d dismantled it while it was still alive. She¡¯d followed that steel thread with her chisel, and that faith¡­ paid off. ¡­ Show me my status. [As you wish.]
[Name: Dahlia Sina] [{Temporary} Class: Hemiptera] [BloodVolume: 4.5/4.8 (94%), Strain: 285/837 (34%)] [Unallocated Points: 0] [// BASIC ATTRIBUTES] [Strength: 1, Speed: 1, Dexterity: 8, Toughness: 1, Perceptivity: 3 (+8), StrainLimit: 837] [// MUTATION TREE ] [// UNIQUE SWARMSTEEL LIST] [2x Cave Cricket Bracers (Quality = F)(Per +8/17)(Tou +0/1)(Strain +186)]
The little black box next to her head was as bright and foreign as ever, and she had trouble squinting at the tiny words at first. Quickly, though, she was able to pinpoint the exact boxes that had changed and the words that had been added¡ªand there, in the box right under her name, was the word ¡®Hemiptera¡¯. Her brows furrowed almost immediately as Eria hopped onto her shoulder, peering at her status alongside her. ... The ¡®True Bugs¡¯ of the insect world, she thought. [You know the colloquial term for Hemiptera, I see.] They''re¡­ um. How does the saying go again? All bugs are insects¨C [But not all insects are bugs,] Eria finished, nodding slowly. [Hemiptera include, but are not limited to: cicadas, aphids, planthoppers, and shield bugs. All of them are insects who do not undergo complete metamorphosis like ants and beetles and butterflies do. Hemipteras emerge from their eggs as ¡®nymphs¡¯, and remain roughly the same shape as they moult and grow. Quite unlike normal insects who go from egg to larvae to pupa to their fully fledged adult forms.] I know. [It is quite common for an Altered Swarmsteel System to determine someone as being best fit for the mutations of a Hemiptera insect class,] Eria continued. [Of the many temporary insect classes you could have been given, Hemiptera is one of the least specific. There are a lot of insects that fall under the Hemiptera classification, which means most people in the world, if given a Swarmsteel System, would gain an insect class that falls under the Hemiptera classification, but I wonder why I still cannot give you a specific¡­] [...] [... Ah. This is one of those troublesome scenarios, I see.] She bit her tongue and looked down, trying not to look at Issam or the twins as they chatted about breaking the giant beetle down into raw materials. Troublesome? she thought. What do you mean by that? [Most likely, I cannot assign you a specific insect class alongside its mutation tree because of an underlying biological condition,] Eria said plainly. [Simply put, there is something fundamentally strange about your body that is preventing me from analysing you properly.] Dahlia furrowed her brows. So, you''re saying I won''t get my insect class no matter how long I wait? [Correct. As a demonstration, allow me to show you how I am normally supposed to assign someone an insect class.] Eria pointed a leg at Ayla, who was mumbling something to Jerie as he grimaced and pulled a small wooden shrapnel out of his leg. By the time Dahlia managed to blink, there was a second black box hovering next to the shorter-haired sister¡¯s head, but this one was only half-formed¡ªthough the words were fairly large, so she could still read them clearly from a distance.
[Name: Ayla Danri] [Class: Determining] [...] [Class: Angle Moth]
[... You can see the Altered Swarmsteel System assessing her in an instant, yes?] Eria said. [Typically, that is what is supposed to happen. The Altered Swarmsteel System analyses its users physiological capabilities, and then determines the insect class with the mutations best fit for them based on their characteristics. Assigning an insect class should be something done within the first minute of system integration, so, for you, I do not know why I am unable to¨C] Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon. It¡¯s just as you said, then. She looked glumly down at the little black bug, at its teardrop-shaped body and its slightly elongated neck¡­ and she felt she already knew, right here and now, what her ¡®best fit¡¯ insect class was supposed to be. The air felt heavier around her shoulders. Her skin on her neck itched, her bruised nails felt like they were about to slide right off her fingertips, and when she chewed on the bloodberry candy she popped into her mouth with her knees pulled to her chest, she felt her nails really were coming loose¡ªhad she been injected with some sort of venom by the beetle¡¯s attacks, after all? She started scratching her bracers. She started biting her nails and sucking harder on her candy. She couldn¡¯t¡­ control herself. [... Dahlia.] [Do you know what condition you have that is preventing you from eating insect flesh and preventing me from assigning you your insect class?] [Do you already know what insect class you would be best fit for?] ¡­ [It is this little black bug I am currently taking the form of, is it not?] [I chose this form because it was the image of the first insect I could glean from your shallow pools of memories, but I am not able to identify it. Its physical appearance is rather¡­ plain. And unassuming. Cross-checking between hundreds and thousands of Hemiptera species matching my current physical appearance would take me a few years, and even then, my conclusion may well be incorrect.] [But if you know exactly what insect class you are best fit for, then please tell me. I may be able to override the system and manually assign you¨C] ¡®Best fit¡¯ for, huh? Her index nail cracked and split in two as she bit down a little too hard, and everyone whirled to see what she was doing, sitting far and away from the dead beetle by her lonesome. Warm blood trickled down her finger, but before she could bite on them again to rip out the already splintered nail¡ªIssam dashed over and grabbed her hand, stopping her from continuing to bite in a daze. He had her pinned under his piercing gaze, eyes dark and half-lidded, brows curled in a sad, almost sleepy, expression. Then she blinked the muddy black haze in her mind away, and there was no hiding the tears that started welling in the corner of her eyes. ¡­ Ah. I¡¯m doing it again. What was she thinking? What was she doing? To nearly bite her tongue off and wound herself after an almost flawless victory against the giant beetle, it just didn¡¯t make any sense whatsoever. Had what Eria told her rattled her so much she went back to her old habit of biting her nails out of sheer anxiousness¡ªthe habit she¡¯d fought tooth and nail to get rid of two years ago? ¡°... You did well,¡± Issam whispered, patting her head as she lowered her gaze, breaking eye contact. She sniffed hard to keep her tears in the corner of her eyes, and they didn¡¯t quite fall. She was still holding. She was still the victor. ¡°You¡­ can fight as well, huh? Sorry we just charged in like that without waiting for you. I wouldn¡¯t have this piece of wood in my shoulder if we¡¯d just let you strip its armour beforehand.¡± At the mention of his shoulder wound, she pushed him away gently and stared through his blood-stained fabric. It wasn¡¯t a terrible or debilitating wound by any means¡ªshe¡¯d seen him shrug off worse during training¡ªbut regardless, her voice still came out as a croak when she called for Jerie and Amula to give him some help. Maybe she actually said a few words. Maybe she didn¡¯t. Her throat was dry and all she could manage was a few more pleas for bandages before Amula tossed her a roll from his satchel, while Jerie was still too busy letting the twins bandage his leg up. Issam grimaced softly and leaned back where he sat as she rose to her knees, carefully peeling his sleeve back to grimace at the sight of the little wooden shrapnel sticking out his skin. ¡°It really isn¡¯t a big deal, you know?¡± he said in his usual sing-songy voice, but that quickly turned into a wince when she pinched the shrapnel out and daubed the small wound with the cotton. He stopped moving as much once she started bandaging his shoulder, trying not to limit his range of movement so much. ¡°More importantly, you should probably wipe off the blood on your cheek. You got grazed there once. That stray leg almost tore your throat out. You need to be a bit more aware of all its possible avenues of attack if you¡¯re fighting closing range¨C¡± ¡°Quiet,¡± she mumbled. ¡°Okay.¡± The steel thread didn¡¯t guide her to bandaging someone up. It was a thread she could only see with something sharp in hand, like her chisel or a kitchen knife, so she struggled with tying the bandages off more than she really should. It was embarrassing, really, that Issam had to help her do it himself, before pulling his sleeve down and patting her head once more¡ªand this time, she didn¡¯t feel like being consoled in such a manner. It made her feel small, like a little animal to be taken care of, and she felt¡­ that maybe, to Issam, she really was something he had to protect. She didn¡¯t like the thought of that. Not one bit. ¡°... I¡¯m sure we all have things we wanna talk about, but it¡¯s best if we all get into the school first,¡± Issam announced, as he rose to his feet and turned to address everyone with firm, narrowed eyes. ¡°Bridge¡¯s gonna crumble soon. Half of the supporting pillars are broken, and the other half are surely weakened. We harvest what parts we can easily rip off the beetle, get onto school grounds, and then we go straight for the armoury where Dahlia can make something strong for us¡ªwe don¡¯t wanna get into another fight when we¡¯re all already weakened like this, do we?¡± The twins nodded, and the seniors didn¡¯t have much to say, either. Amula had to support the Jerie with an arm under his shoulder while Issam extended a hand down for Dahlia, his lips arched into a smile that failed to reach his eyes; she could tell he was a fair bit tired, just like her, but unlike hers, his eyes still shone like the sun beyond the hole in the ceiling. She hesitated for only a moment before taking his hand gingerly, and he pulled her up towards the beetle with his broken blade twirling in his hand. ¡°You¡¯re gonna have to tell me which parts I have to cut,¡± he whispered, smirking as he jumped onto the beetle to position his blade between the seams of its massive chitin plates. ¡°I don¡¯t pay much attention in insect physiology classes, after all.¡± ¡°That¡¯s because the classes are boring,¡± Ayla mumbled, supporting Aylee and getting supported in return. ¡°Seriously. Who cares about dissectin¡¯ a bug to see what its innards look like? They¡¯re all the same when covered in blood, anyways.¡± Issam scowled back at her. ¡°That¡¯s why I¡¯m asking Dahlia, not you. She¡¯s the only one here who tries to study.¡± ¡°That¡¯s a disservice to Jerie,¡± Aylee muttered. ¡°And me,¡± Amula snapped. ¡°Jerie, I can believe, but you? Not so much.¡± Issam laughed pointedly and ignored Amula kicking the beetle¡¯s head in irritation, turning instead to wink at Dahlia. ¡°Well? Where do I start?¡± Drawing in a slow and steady breath, Dahlia pointed and directed the far more precise swordsman into cutting out all the parts she¡¯d be able to turn into something useful. She was more than familiar with beetles of most varieties, after all; of the countless insect parts she¡¯d worked with before, beetle carapaces were probably among the more flexible parts she¡¯d ever had the opportunity to play with. They could be bent and shaped and weaved into most shapes, so to say she wasn¡¯t even the least bit excited to work with giant beetle chitin for once would be a plain black lie. She allowed herself to get a little carried away with telling Issam which parts to cut, and which parts to ignore. ¡­ I have a feeling that we don¡¯t share the same meaning for ¡®best fit¡¯, she thought, answering Eria¡¯s question. It¡¯s¡­ nothing of the sort. That insect is nothing I ¡®want¡¯ to be. Eria blinked up at her, tilting its little head. [Then, what is it?] [What is this insect I am currently taking the form of?] ¡­ ¡­ Couldn¡¯t you just assign me another insect class? she thought. I don¡¯t¡­ I don¡¯t mind not having an insect class right now. It¡¯s not like I can eat insect flesh and get points to unlock those ¡®mutations¡¯ or whatever, right? Does it even matter whether I have a class or not? Silence. Eria thought for a moment before sighing. [... You are correct] Eria said. [Even if I were to assign you an insect class right now, with your body actively rejecting and throwing up insect flesh, you will not have any points to unlock any class-specific mutations anyway. If you do not wish to tell me what insect class you think you are best fit for, then I will not pry.] [I will try to assign you another insect class by continuing to analyse your body.] Chapter 11 - The Bug-Slaying School It is a cold and lightless day when Instructor Karmen barges into the homeroom, scowling when she sees Instructor Biem dozing off on his chair. She throws a hornet spear at him; he catches it with his pinky, opening one eye to scowl back at his junior assistant. ¡°What?¡± ¡°The new first years have arrived,¡± Karmen says curtly, before stepping in to shoo his legs off his desk, clicking her tongue irritably. ¡°We¡¯ve got twenty-two students this year. Two transfers from the General School. Supposedly they¡¯re the ones with the real good potential, so watch out for them.¡± ¡°Names?¡± ¡°You¡¯ll figure out who they are soon enough. Now, please go outside and give them a welcoming speech. They¡¯re waiting for their instructor out on the field.¡± ¡°No.¡± ¡°... No?¡± Biem swings his legs off his desk, peering out his window. He sees the twenty-two standing at attention below, but two are already fighting each other¡ªthe others are trying their hardest to break up the fight to no avail. ¡°Today¡¯s the monthly light rest day, which means the entire town¡¯s cutting back on glowing firefly posts,¡± he says, as he picks up his dragonfly goggles and slings them over his head, but he doesn¡¯t wear them properly. He watches the children squabble by the window. ¡°They¡¯ve probably never stayed outside during firefly rest days before, so they¡¯re sure to be freezing right about now. I say let them freeze. It gets their blood pumping.¡± Karmen snorts. ¡°Sick man. You know we get less and less students every year. After that horrific last invasion by the Northern Bawu Tunnel five years ago, no child wants to risk their lives¨C¡± ¡°That¡¯s good, then. ¡°Whoever survives the fight and shows up outside the door within ten minutes gets to come into the homeroom. I¡¯ll expel the rest of them. ¡°How many out of twenty-two do you think will remain this year, hm?¡± ¡°... I call four. Those two transfer boys fighting down there, Raya and Issam, and then the twin sisters jumping around the railings. They¡¯ll be the only ones to walk into your homeroom.¡± ¡°Hm. I¡¯ll call five, then.¡± ¡°Five?¡± ¡°Turn around and open the door for her,¡± he says, thumbing at the front door. ¡°I think it¡¯s locked.¡± - Scene from Alshifa Bug-Slaying School past
Through the metal gate and past the withered, barren fields, the Alshifa Bug-Slaying School welcomed their arrival with a giant metal sign hanging over the dark entrance. The infamous ¡®leave your humanity aside¡¯ sign had been scribbled on by graduates from a few decades ago to scare the first-years into dropping out¡ªor transferring to the far more ordinary General School on the other end of town. After all, the more students there were across the five years of aspiring bug-slayers, the more competition there¡¯d be for jobs after graduation; graduates either worked as Instructors or as garrison bug-slayer in others undertowns connected to Alshifa through a web of subterranean tunnels, and since there was only ever a need for five Instructors in the school at any given time¡­ it was understandable why bug-slaying was a tight-knit profession where most graduates were either close friends, or were shunned and kicked out of class. That¡¯s just how it¡¯s always been for decades, I guess. It was standard for the Bug-Slaying School to have only five classes, one for each grade, and one Instructor assigned to each class. The Instructors would teach the same class every year until all their students either graduated or dropped out, which meant for the past five years, the only instructor Dahlia really knew was Instructor Biem¡ªand she couldn¡¯t deny she felt a little shiver run down her spine as she stepped into the dark halls of the school, almost expecting a harsh and grating scolding for having arrived so late today. But today, the school was quiet. The sun was bright outside, the air suffocating inside the foyer. Not a single firefly lamp was lit. Once, the foyer might¡¯ve been the most grandiose hall in the entire town¡ªtapestries dotted every inch of every wall depicting courageous bug-slayers of old, defunct weapons dangled from chains on the three-storey high ceiling, and the single spiralling staircase at the back of the hall were connected to bridges that led into every single possible hallway of the fortress-like school¡ªbut now she could barely see ten steps ahead of her, and the rolls of fuzzy carpet beneath her feet were the only things indicating this was the same school she¡¯d been attending the past five years. It just wasn¡¯t the same without the students running around, sparring wherever they wanted, whenever they wanted. ¡°... Jerie. Amula,¡± Issam said quietly, glancing back at the seniors with a little nod. ¡°Light.¡± The two needed no telling twice. Jerie took the lead with his firefly cage held out in front of him, while Amula walked at the very back with her cage hanging on her waistband. Issam was right behind Jerie, the twins right behind him, and then Dahlia right before Amula¡ªa small, compact formation just in case one of the fireflies were to go out. There were no windows in the foyers, in the hallways, so until they reached their homeroom, they had to stay close to the seniors. All of them sucked in a sharp breath and began trudging forward, leaving sunlight behind as they searched for the stairs. [Why are there no windows here?] Eria asked, and it was like a ghost had just spoken in her ear; she shrieked and jumped and made the twins in front of her shriek as well, which most certainly didn¡¯t do them any favours when it came to being quiet. Issam turned just in time to see Amula kicking her in the back of her knees, hissing at her to shut up. She apologised profusely with a dozen short bows as they started trudging up the stairs, hands feeling and gripping tight on the railings. [... Apologies. I did not think I would startle you so much.] It¡¯s okay. [My question still stands, however. What is the purpose of making this foyer so¡­ difficult to navigate without firefly light?] It was Instructor Biem¡¯s idea. He¡¯d randomly turn off all the lamps in the school and organise training sessions where we couldn¡¯t see very well. He always said it was¡­ good for honing our senses. Eria bobbed her head up and down. [He sounds like a diligent Instructor.] He hit us a lot. [An even more diligent Instructor, then.] As they travelled steadily up the stairs, making their way to the third floor where the fifth-year homeroom and armoury was, she felt as though there were shadows skittering just beyond the edge of the light; maybe it was just her bracers¡¯ bristle acting up, though, because none of the others spoke up. Sure, there was that ominous presence Issam had mentioned that they should probably worry about, but the fact of the matter was, they had to get to the armoury to get Amula and Jerie¡¯s Swarmsteel back, so they couldn¡¯t lose their nerve now. She kept her tongue and forged on, placing her hands over her bracers to keep them from shivering. The stairs levelled out after a whole minute of silent trudging, and now they were faced with a pitch-black hallway that seemed to stretch forever and ever into the abyss. Jerie and Issam paused for a moment¡ªas though forgetting whether their homeroom was left or right¡ªbefore the twins jabbed their thumbs left, making Issam chuckled softly. Somehow, seeing the usually composed boys lose themselves a little made Dahlia feel a bit more comfortable. She wasn¡¯t the only one unnerved by their environment. ¡°... This reminds me of Biem turning off all the fireflies lanterns in the middle of class for sudden sensory training sessions,¡± Ayla said, her voice low as a whisper as they walked down the dark hallway. ¡°He loves group exercises, so he¡¯d split the entire school up into five classes and make us play tag¡ªthe whole school¡¯s the arena, no using Swarmsteel, and if you get tagged, you can¡¯t revive. So, if you suck at moving around in the dark, you¡¯d just sit the next two hours out on the floor. It¡¯s so not fun compared to the tag the kids at the General School play.¡± ¡°It¡¯s only not fun if you suck at it,¡± Issam said, cackling under his breath as he smirked back at Ayla. ¡°I love Instructor Biem¡¯s games. They¡¯re always quite thrilling, aren¡¯t they?¡± ¡°Easy for ye to say. You know what we seniors called this hallway?¡± Amula mumbled, her head swivelling left and right as though searching for observers. When she didn¡¯t spot anything out of the ordinary, she leaned in to toss a pebble at Issam¡¯s neck. ¡°This is the ¡®Hallway of Lost Heads¡¯. See, because the fifth-year and fourth-year homerooms are both on this level, whenever the fireflies go out and Biem roars for tag to begin, the strongest students in the school would rush out and immediately start bustin¡¯ everyone¡¯s heads. Nobody else gets to play on this level. It¡¯s so damned unfun, honestly¨C¡± ¡°You say that like you weren¡¯t one of those ¡®strongest students¡¯, girl,¡± Ayla muttered, turning round to scowl at Amula. ¡°When we played this game last year, it was you and Jerie in the fifth-years and Raya and Issam in the fourth-years. Did the rest of us get to move even a single inch before we got tagged? Hell no. We just sat there for three hours in the dark like a bunch of losers.¡± Amula scowled back. ¡°Hey, I gave ye all a chance. I told our classmates to wait ten seconds before going for yer heads, but Raya¨C¡± ¡°Raya ruined it for us,¡± Aylee groaned, and Ayla nodded with overexaggerated forlorn, making Issam laugh again at the front. ¡°That¡­ guy. We told him to wait a bit just as the fireflies went out so we could form a strategy to deal with you fifth-years, but he just went ahead and tagged your entire class immediately. Except for you and Jerie, of course. Then the two of you got pissed and tagged us in return, so it was just another sit-in-the-dark exercise for the rest of us while Raya and Issam had all the fun.¡± ¡°I hate that guy,¡± Aylee agreed. ¡°Same,¡± Issam said. ¡°He¡¯s not called the most talented bug-slayer in Alshifa¡¯s history for nothin¡¯. The Instructors actually let him pick his Swarmsteel when he was a third-year, while the rest of us only got ours this year,¡± Amula muttered, and as they rounded a corner, Dahlia almost stepped on a broken glass shard. The older girl had to kick her a few steps forward just so she wouldn¡¯t make a noise. ¡°We¡¯re gettin¡¯ off-topic, though. That¡¯s¡­ our homeroom at the end, right? The door¡¯s open. Think someone¡¯s already inside ransackin¡¯ the place?¡± True to the Amula¡¯s word, the straight beam of sunlight falling through the open door at the end of the hallway made everyone¡¯s breath hitch¡ªsince their homeroom also doubled as their class armoury, Instructor Biem was always a stickler for making sure the student on door-locking duty that day did their job. It¡¯d be a disaster if people could just walk in and come out with a dozen combat-tested Swarmsteel. So, to see that the door was open now, and remembering what Issam had said about the ominous presence¡­ ¡­ ¡­ Dahlia coughed into her fist and bowed again, catching everyone¡¯s attention. ¡°I think it was supposed to be¡­ me,¡± she mumbled, unable to meet any of their gazes. ¡°But I left early yesterday, so I¡­ didn¡¯t lock the door properly. There¡¯s probably nobody inside.¡± Issam sighed a breath of relief. The twins whacked her on her back and said it was no problem, while Amula muttered something unintelligible before taking the lead into the homeroom alongside Jerie¡ªand the moment all of them stepped into the sunlit room was also the same moment the twins shut the door behind them, twisting the double locks to make sure nothing could sneak up on them. Looking around the familiar homeroom helped Dahlia calm down a little. It wasn¡¯t like the small twenty desks classrooms in the General School¡ªthe bug-slaying homeroom was almost as wide as an entire ball-playing field, twice as tall as any normal room, and instead of desks and chairs they had a field of five-metre-tall wooden poles sticking out of the floor like sugarcanes. The idea was only Instructor Biem would get to sit at the ¡®normal¡¯ desk at the front of the room, while the rest of the fifth-years would have to balance on top of the poles the entire day without sitting down even once. That, and the poles could also be used as an obstacle course whenever Instructor Biem felt like throwing chalk at someone, and a single lever pull by his desk was all it¡¯d take for the entire room to ¡®transform¡¯; shutters would fall over the line of windows, spikes and swinging traps would emerge from the walls, and they could host a full-on movement training session without having to walk out the doorway. Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon. The full depth of the architecture eluded her still, but there was no doubt the bug-slaying school¡¯s homerooms were the most advanced rooms in the entire town. [How elaborate,] Eria muttered. [It must have cost the Instructors a fortune to construct something like this.] For the record, the first, second, third, and fourth-year homerooms all have different ¡®obstacle¡¯ courses, she thought. The first-year homeroom is just a normal homeroom. The second-year one constantly flips between super cold and super hot. The third-year one has darts that occasionally shoot out of the walls that you have to dodge, and the fourth-year one¡­ ¡­ I don¡¯t know. I didn¡¯t¡­ really go to school last year. [...] These homerooms help train our agility, though, she offered. How do you think Issam and Amula and the twins can just jump around the giant beetle like that? [... Fair.] [Still excessively designed, in my opinion.] Of course, there was still the usual homeroom furniture scattered all about: lockers for them to dump their satchels in, medical amenities in case a student fell off a wooden pole mid-class, and most importantly, there were the boxes of random scrap and equipment lining the walls. There wasn¡¯t any real reason why the boxes were so disorganised. They¡¯d just been accumulating mass year after year, decade after decade¡ªmost of them were failed Swarmsteel prototypes or broken weapons awaiting repairs that¡¯d never end up seeing the light of day, but there¡¯d occasionally be a gem or two in them. Amula and Jerie immediately flew over to begin clawing through the boxes of Swarmsteel. ¡°... We¡¯ll give them some time to find their Swarmsteel,¡± Issam said, sighing and trudging over to join them, though he was obviously less enthusiastic given he already had his mantis scythes. ¡°I need a new sword, too. A broken blade is¡­ workable, but not ideal. How about you girls just sit around and rest while we find our stuff?¡± Then he glanced around at the three of them, smiling softly. ¡°Dahlia can work on making something useful out of the beetle parts, and the two of you can keep her company.¡± The twins gave him a mocking salute. ¡°Sure thing, boss!¡± Without asking, they dragged her over to Instructor Biem¡¯s desk¡ªone sister pulling each arm¡ªbefore throwing her onto the chair and dumping out half of the beetle chitin plates they¡¯d been carrying in their satchels. Dahlia wasn¡¯t immediately sure what to make with them, so she looked up anxiously at the twins as she took out her chisel, biting her lips. ¡°Do you guys¡­ have any special requests?¡± she asked. ¡°Beetle chitin is very flexible. Multi-purpose. If you want some sort of armour, I can try to¨C¡± ¡°Lightweight!¡± Ayla said, twirling in place and lifting her mantle to show off her severe lack of armour underneath. ¡°Chest plates for all of us would be nice so we don¡¯t get instantly skewered by any antennae, but they¡¯ll have to be light! At least for the two of us! We¡¯ll be dodging and jumping around quite often, so¡­ yeah!¡± ¡°... Alright,¡± Dahlia muttered. ¡°I¡¯ll¡­ try.¡± Popping her shoulders, cracking her wrists, she leaned forward in her chair and tried to ignore the squeezing pains in her forearms. Chestplates, huh? I¡¯ve never made Swarmsteel for anyone else before, but I can¡­ probably do that. So, after staring at the chitin plates in front of her for a second longer, she turned the dial on her pocket watch¨C ¡°I notice you start that timer whenever you¡¯re about to concentrate on something,¡± Aylee said, breaking her flow the moment the first tick tocks sounded. She blinked, hands freezing up just as she got ahold of the first chitin plate. ¡°What¡¯s up with that? Is it a ritual of some sort? I wish I had something like that to help me focus.¡± ¡°Mm¡­ hm,¡± she hummed, only half-paying attention to Aylee as she blinked and tried entering her flow state again. She didn¡¯t have to measure the twins¡¯ torso width with a cord or anything of the sort. She could tell from a glance how many chitin plates she¡¯d need for a single chestplate, so the first thing she did was pick out the largest, most malleable plates; ones she could bend and curl and shape into smooth curves with her bare hands¨C ¡°You made this pocket watch by yourself, right?¡± Ayla said, swerving behind her chair to scrutinise her trinket. She blinked and whirled around, covering her watch almost instinctively. Ayla grinned back at her. ¡°It¡¯s cool! I like it! Can you make one for all of us as well?¡± ¡°I¡¯ll¡­ um. Attempt,¡± she mumbled, whipping back around to start folding the beetle chitin again. ¡°Sorry, but, um, could you¡­ not¡­ talk to me? While I¡¯m working?¡± Ayla didn¡¯t take the hint. ¡°Do you have to focus really hard?¡± Aylee didn¡¯t take it either. ¡°You¡¯re just folding plates and bending them together, right?¡± ¡°Yes. Kinda. But it¡¯s¡­ a bit more complicated than that,¡± she said, having trouble picking the words out of her mind as her hands and tongue moved at the same time. ¡°If I don¡¯t¡­ focus on the sound of the watch, I can¡¯t make Swarmsteel. That¡¯s just¡­ how it is¨C¡± ¡°But why?¡± they asked. She twiddled her fingers. Her hands stopped moving again. Nervous beads of sweat rolled down her forehead as her skin started itching, anxiety gripping around her heart. She simply¡­ she simply couldn¡¯t concentrate on making Swarmsteel when she was being stared at so intently. She wasn¡¯t used to it. This was always a job she did when she was alone inside her stuffy little bedroom, as far away as possible from any distractions¡ªand then the twins finally seemed to take the hint, sighing as they walked out of sight. ¡­ Her mind unfroze the moment they left her field of vision, and suddenly her hands were moving on their own again. She still had a bit of time to spare. If she couldn¡¯t finish shaping an entire chestplate in a single minute, she could just turn the dial again. ¡­ When did I start being unable to make Swarmsteel without my watch, though? The question lingered at the back of her mind, gnawing away at her focus, but for her part she was able to consciously endure the itching sensation. The answer didn¡¯t matter. Having a little ritual she could perform before doing something mentally taxing was a good thing. It kept her focused, it awakened the latent muscle memories in her body, and, most important of all, the steady ticks and tocks of her pocket watch made her feel at home. Her dad always carried a pocket watch with him, after all¨C ¡°You used to spend a lot of time making Swarmsteel on your own, sitting at that bedroom desk of yours facing out the window, right?¡± A pair of hands started massaging her shoulders from behind, but even when she froze up again, she couldn¡¯t tell which one of the twins was talking to her. When Ayla wasn¡¯t trying to sound too upbeat and Aylee wasn¡¯t trying to sound too melodramatic, their voices were nigh-indistinguishable¡ªand the massaging hands moved perfectly in sync, kneading and working her muscles to relieve a burst of pent-up stress she didn¡¯t even realise she had. It was like¡­ poison, being sucked out of her veins, and now she could breathe properly again. ¡°Don¡¯t stop moving your hands,¡± the voice whispered into her ear. ¡°Keep going. Don¡¯t stop. Just listen to my voice, okay?¡± She didn¡¯t really have the option to say no, so when her pocket watch rang, she immediately slapped the dial to silence it¡ªand then her hands returned to work. The girl behind her giggled, and now she was sure of it; there was only one sister massaging her from behind. But which one? ¡°... You¡¯ve always been super quiet and reserved, you know? Even when you were a first-year, you didn¡¯t talk much to anyone. It kinda made me think you¡­ couldn¡¯t? But then I saw you talking to Issam after school one day and thought, ¡®ah, you really can talk after all¡¯,¡± the sister said, making her gulp as she tried her best to focus on the chitin plates in front of her. ¡°You probably don¡¯t know this, but the only reason why all twenty-two of us managed to not get expelled on our first day of school was because of you. Do you remember that day? I know I do. Biem was going to expel everyone who didn¡¯t make it to homeroom that morning, and the way Issam and Raya were going at each other¡¯s throats while everyone was completely distracted with egging them on, nobody would¡¯ve made it had you not done what you did.¡± ¡­ What I did? ¡°You don¡¯t remember?¡± the sister chuckled, moving onto thumping her shoulders with closed fists. ¡°You didn¡¯t fight. I dunno if you just weren¡¯t paying attention to the fight or what, but you just ignored Issam and Raya and walked up to the homeroom yourself. When everyone saw Biem just taking you in, we realised fighting wasn¡¯t actually part of any initiation test¡ªso the rest of us followed, and none of us got expelled that first day.¡± I did something like that? ¡°And since that day, I¡¯ve kinda thought to myself, ¡®ah, this girl¡¯s pretty tricky and devious¡¯, just like me,¡± the sister said, ¡°and I kinda¡­ you know. I kinda wanted to be your friend.¡± ¡­ Friend? ¡°I mean, I most definitely felt like I tried to be your friend,¡± the sister said, with a small lilt in her voice that suggested she shrugged nonchalantly. ¡°You were a really tough nut to crack, though. I tried getting paired up with you during morning stretches countless times, but you always stretched with Issam and never even looked our way. I tried eating my lunches with you, but I guess your talent for hiding and sneaking around extends outside of that hide and seek game Biem makes us play. I still don¡¯t know where you eat your lunches, by the way.¡± ¡­ ¡°I even made friends with Issam to try to get closer to you, but every time he tried bringing me over to your house you¡¯d just be sitting by your desk making your Swarmsteel, and you always look so¡­ focused. And happy.¡± The sister paused for a moment. ¡°I was never able to bring myself to disturb you then, so I never did. In hindsight, I wish it didn¡¯t take a literal Swarm invasion for us to talk, but¡­ I¡¯m happy that we¡¯re talking now.¡± ¡­ You were watching me? But why? I don¡¯t get¨C ¡°You might not get it, but¡­ I thought you were really, really cool,¡± the sister breathed, as the shoulder thumping stopped and the massaging returned; a bit faster, a bit rougher this time. ¡°The way you can just zone out and put your all into something you really like¡­ you know, I was never really good at that sort of thing. All I¡¯m good at is wearing my mantle and making big, flashy distractions while the real bug-slayers do all the heavy lifting. In a way, I guess I¡¯m just jealous of you and Issam. You can make and repair all of our weapons, and Issam uses them. Compared to the two of you, I¡¯m just kind of in the middle of the road, huh?¡± No, you¡¯re not. You were incredible with the beetle back then. If it weren¡¯t for you¨C ¡°If it weren¡¯t for you, both of us would¡¯ve died to that beetle back then,¡± the sister whispered. ¡°So thank you. I mean it. And I also mean it when I say I still want to be friends with you, so¡­ let¡¯s hang out after we deal with this invasion?¡± The massaging hands were slightly heated, slightly sweaty¡ªtheir warmth didn¡¯t escape Dahlia¡¯s attention. She was more than familiar with the unsaid sentiment herself; the feeling of being indebted to someone; the feeling of being inferior to someone; they were all sentiments very, very close to her heart, and she¡¯d imagined, more than a few dozens times in her head, what she¡¯d like to hear from Issam were she ever to lay her thoughts bare. So, as her hands eventually stopped moving and her breathing slowed to a crawl, she lowered her head and stared quietly at the nails massaging her shoulders. They were plain, but smooth and pretty nails; quite unlike her bruised and dirtied ones. Her nails could never be like the sister¡¯s, and maybe that¡­ was okay. She gulped. She chewed her lips and tried to gather her courage. Her lips parted for a brief second, then closed in the next¡ªand then she managed to re-gather her courage and speak. Just a whisper. ¡°... I¡¯ve made three chestplates for now,¡± she mumbled, making a point not to turn and look as she lowered her head, looking down at her lap. ¡°If you¡¯d like, maybe I can¡­ help put one on for you?¡± It was a silly offer. A pointless offer. Of course the mantle-wearing student would be able to don any shoddy chestplate themselves, without anyone to help them, but¨C ¡°Sure!¡± Ayla said, bouncing forward from her left with a wide grin. ¡°Do me first,¡± Aylee said, skipping forward from her right with a gentle smile. And she blinked at the two of them, losing her breath for a second as she wondered if she¡¯d just been plain wrong about there being only one sister massaging her shoulders. ¡­ ¡­ Well. It doesn¡¯t really matter who it was, right? With great delight, the twins lined up as she stood and helped them wear their chestplates. It wasn¡¯t until she was halfway through that she realised something, with a momentary pause: she¡¯d made Swarmsteel even while she was being stared at the entire time.
[Pine Sawyer Beetle Chestplate (Quality = F)(Tou +0/3)(Strain +89)]
When had she slipped into her flow state? When the twins first started talking? Or when she¡¯d been asked to be friends with them? She didn¡¯t really know. The tightness in her chest that hadn¡¯t gone away since she started travelling with everyone settled just a little bit, but¡­ she felt just a little bit more at ease around the twins. How strange. If it weren¡¯t for this Swarm invasion, we¡¯d never have had a talk like that. And when she looked at them marvelling and flicking the lightweight piece of equipment she¡¯d made explicitly for them, she felt an indescribable sense of pride and accomplishment¡ªso when Ayla turned to hug her with a thankful laugh while Aylee held up a hand for her to slap, she felt a bit of something else mixed in, swirling along with the pride she found she didn¡¯t really care too much about. She found herself smiling a bit, too. The twins¡¯ energy was infectious. And if she could have it¡­ ¡­ ¡­ If she could have it, she wanted to make Swarmsteel for Issam, Amula, and Jerie as well. But not right now. The bristles on her bracers were shivering, and everyone snapped their heads up to stare at the front door. Eria? I feel¨C [Detecting strange pheromone signal outside the front door,] Eria warned. [Get ready.] The door was still sealed and doubled-locked, but the silence outside didn¡¯t fool her for a second. The hard stone floor of the Bug-Slaying School knew the sound of human footsteps, and whatever was standing right beyond the door wasn¡¯t human. She was about ninety percent sure of it. If it was human, it¡¯d probably be carrying a firefly cage, but there wasn¡¯t a shadow trickling in through the slit at the bottom of the door¡ªso the thing had to be able to see in the dark, and move well in it. Her mind raced to narrow down the type of giant insect they might have to face on their way out, but that was just as unnecessary as well. Something knocked on the door. Once. Twice. And right as her hands whipped forward to grab one of the chestplates, desperately pulling it over her own torso The front door was kicked in with a loud crash, and a boy darted in with his hornet spear reared behind him. Chapter 12 - Hornet Slayer Dahlia couldn¡¯t dodge the spear in time. Impact. The butt of the spear rammed straight into her chestplate and sent her flying back into the windows. A gasp escaped her throat as she tore through her chair, her head whipping back against the tempered glass where she bounced off with a painful clang. Fireflies spun in her eyes. The whiplash blinded her, rang her eardrums like she was getting swirled away by a howling torrent, and were it not for Eria immediately injecting a small dose of adrenaline, she probably would¡¯ve fainted right away. [Get up, Dahlia!] Alas, she was conscious. And awake. And by the time she managed a blink and raised her bracers to protect her face, making a futile attempt to block the second thrust flying straight at her chest¨C A sharp cleave, a funnel of withered leaves, and a wooden flute thrown in the attacker¡¯s general direction forced the boy to back off all the way to the broken doorway. When her vision finally cleared and the twins dashed in to pull her onto her feet, she got a good look at the brown-skinned boy standing in the doorway. His bug-slaying student shawl was identical to theirs, draped in a wavy feather-like pattern across his left shoulder. Long and rough blood-splattered hair fell past his shoulders, tied together by a giant blue ribbon at the back of his head. The seemingly lax but guarding posture he took with his spear exuded the utmost poise¡ªhis tall frame giving him presence, his muscular limbs giving him weight, his dead-eyed stare giving him aura¡ªand now, there was no doubt Issam¡¯s intuition had been entirely on point. There was an ominous being in the school, and he was the strongest of the fifth-year students, more powerful than any giant insect they could¡¯ve run into. ¡°... Oh. It''s just Raya,¡± Issam muttered, sheathing his new sword behind his back and breathing a heavy sigh. ¡°I don''t know what you''re doing here when the shelter needs your help, but, like, watch it. Did you think we were bugs or something trying crawling through the armoury? Did you have to kick the door in like that¨C¡± ¡°All of your Swarmsteel,¡± Raya said, a dark and cutting voice. ¡°Give them to me.¡± ¡­ Dahlia looked at Issam¡¯s mantis scythes, at the twins¡¯ moth mantles, and at Amula and Jerie still kneeling far away by the boxes of scrap as they stared back at Raya. If Raya felt even the least bit uncomfortable being stared at by everyone, he didn''t show it on his face. He was as bored and dreary-looking as ever, twirling his spear and raising it in Issam''s direction. ¡°Your Swarmsteel,¡± he repeated. ¡°Leave them here and go back to your shelter.¡± ¡°... And what were you doing here all alone?¡± Ayla muttered. ¡°If you were alive, then why didn''t you go to the shelter? Where the hell have you been this entire time?¡± ¡°Busy. Now leave your Swarmsteel here and go.¡± ¡°Where are the rest of our fifth-year classmates? There¡¯s no way we¡¯re the only ones left in¨C¡± ¡°I took them all out with my venom,¡± he said curtly. ¡°Now leave your Swarmsteel here, and maybe I¡¯ll feel like letting you go.¡± Issam¡¯s expression turned grim, and, falling so fast, even the twins and Dahlia¡¯s faces went cold and distant. Raya wasn¡¯t usually one to make jokes like that. If it were the twins, she could maybe see how such a statement could be said as a feint just to stun their opponents, but there was a reason why Raya was called the godsent talent of bug-slaying, a genius never before seen in the history of Alshifa¡ªhe didn¡¯t need to rely on feints and distractions to defeat his opponent. So Issam continued staring at Raya through narrowed amber eyes, sunlight gleaming off his mantis scythes. ¡°You¡­ killed the rest of our classmates?¡± Issam said, in a low voice. ¡°Why?¡± Raya¡¯s blank expression didn¡¯t change. ¡°This is a Swarm invasion, and they were too weak to deal with it. They¡¯re better off dead than being a hindrance.¡± ¡°Why are you here, then?¡± ¡°To grab any leftover Swarmsteel I could use for myself. I heard noises up here while I was in the second floor classrooms, though, so I came to check you guys out.¡± ¡°How¡¯d you get past the beetle on the bridge?¡± ¡°I scaled the cliffs. It¡¯s not very difficult if you¡¯re a competent bug-slayer.¡± Issam¡¯s fist clenched around the hilt of his sword. ¡°And what are you planning to do with the Swarmsteel you¡¯re planning on taking on us.?¡± ¡°What none of you can do even if you¡¯re all working together.¡± Raya cracked his neck loudly once, twice on the other side, before blinking pointedly at Issam. ¡°I''m the strongest, so I¡¯ll take down that lightning hornet in the Bazaar by myself.¡± ¡­ And that was the end of their conversation. The boys¡¯ stances solidified, their muscles sharp and tense. For a second, Dahlia thought they looked like the heroic bug-slaying figures in the tapestries outside the homeroom, wielding steel in their hands and wearing their hearts on their sleeves, ready to put their all into every breathing moment of their lives¡ªand then everyone who could move, moved. Issam drew his sword in the space between moments¡ªmantis scythes sharpening it with serrated edges¡ªand he sliced with the intent to maim. The twins darted to opposite corners, boots screeching against the ground as they jumped at Raya from behind. Dahlia, too, saw the glimmer of the steel thread twirling from the tip of her chisel to the tip of the hornet spearr; it was four versus one, a fight with a complete number¡¯s advantage. She could dismantle Raya¡¯s spear, the twins could sweep his legs out from under him, and Issam could sever a good finger or two. But Raya didn¡¯t agree with their plan. In a single, smooth movement, he spun and whacked the twins¡¯ chests with the blunt end of his spear before they could sweep his legs. His back was open to Issam¡¯s attack, but he didn¡¯t care to defend himself. He raised a free palm in Dahlia¡¯s direction. There was a little pipe attached to his wrist, the rest of the weapon disappearing into his sleeves. Her spine tingled, the bristles on her bracers wavered¡ªeven Eria couldn''t tell her to dodge in time before Issam had to lunge between them, twirling his sword to block the onslaught of hornet stingers that shot out Raya¡¯s wrist-mounted crossbow. Dahlia¡¯s eyes widened as she rolled behind a tipped-over desk, using it as cover. He has more than one Swarmsteel equipped? she thought. He did say he was here looking for Swarmsteel he could use, but I didn¡¯t think he could equip more than¨C But she didn¡¯t have time to think. They¡¯d all been taken by surprise enough that none of them saw him stepping past Issam¡ªhis footwork hidden within the golden sparks and flashes of hornet stingers being deflected by Issam¡¯s blade¡ªand it was only when he loomed over her desk with apathy in his eyes that she managed to blink. ¡°The rest of you are a bother,¡± he said plainly. ¡°Don¡¯t get between me and Issam¡¯s fight.¡± The blunt end of his spear came at her swinging, and she felt a soft crack in her ribs. Her chestplate still absorbed most of the impact, but she was still sent flying shoulder-first into another tipped-over desk. A jolt ran through her body as she cried out in pain. Issam was the only one standing at this point, and Raya¡¯s brows furrowed as he turned to face the mantis swordsman, looking just the barest bit interested in his remaining opponent. Then, Raya fired a stinger at the lever by the Instructor¡¯s desk. No. That¡¯s the¨C The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. The window shutters slammed down, firefly cages burst with light all around, and the fields of wooden poles began shifting up and down as more poles shot at them from every conceivable direction. Dahlia rolled to the edge of the room, and so did the haggard twins, but the two strongest students in school were more than used to this dance¡ªthe only way anyone could stay on their toes was if they could balance on the wooden poles five metres up in the air, and that was exactly what the boys were doing, trading blow after blow, parry and deflect, cutting up a storm of violent winds as they fought for a completely stupid reason. They should be working together, not fighting and exhausting each other, but¡­even a combat amateur like Dahlia could tell that Issam was struggling to keep up with Raya¡¯s speed. Issam wasn¡¯t winning. The swordsman¡¯s swings were wide and strong, but perhaps a bit too strong; he couldn¡¯t shake his training against fighting giant dummy bugs, and the opponent in front of him was no bug at all. Raya wasn¡¯t wearing armour beneath his shawl and tunic. A simple cut would wound him and take him out of the fight, but Raya was the only one who seemed to realise this¡ªin comparison, the spearman¡¯s thrusts were sharp and quick. Flighty and darting. His hornet spear stabbed only at Issam¡¯s joints, and even worse, the stinger was most likely venom-laced. Issam certainly seemed to be breathing harder than usual, his movements more sluggish than usual. Raya was the ¡®Godsent Talent¡¯ of the Bug-Slaying School, and Issam must¡¯ve realised it himself as well, because on the one brief occasion he managed to whirl around and look down at Dahlia, he tilted his head at the seniors¡¯ direction ¡­ She followed the tilt of his head and felt she knew exactly what he was asking her to do. Eria, she thought, gritting her teeth. Is there a way I can pinpoint the exact location of a Swarmsteel even if I can''t see it? Eria appeared on her shoulder as she crawled onto her feet, ducking as a wooden pole shot out the wall behind her and tried to whack her head. [There are many reactions one can observe between Swarmsteel that come in contact with foreign materials, yes, but without knowing what you are looking for¨C] It¡¯s a beetle Swarmsteel, inlaid with a hundred small elytra and bits of gold-silver composite alloy, she thought, watching the seniors continue to rummage through the boxes of Swarmsteel as they ignored the fighting behind them. There should only be one of that Swarmsteel in this homeroom, somewhere inside those boxes. Is there a way for me to help Amula find her Swarmsteel? [A beetle Swarmsteel¡­] Eria trailed off, and she slid away from a falling wooden pole as the boys¡¯ fight raged on overhead. [If there is only one of it in this room, then there is, indeed, a surefire way to locate it.] She sucked in a sharp breath and tried to calm herself. She had to help somehow. Tell me. [It will require a strong light that reflects over eighty percent violet rays, and the light must be incredibly piercing if you want it to fall upon that particular Swarmsteel,] Eria said. [If the light does not reach, the Swarmsteel will not react and become temporarily bioluminescent¨C] Strong light. Piercing light. Something came to mind immediately. She ripped the pocket watch off her waistband and overcranked the dial, turning it three, five, eight more times than it was designed to handle¡ªbut in one minute, if she could time the countdown correctly and toss it up into the middle of the room, she was sure it¡¯d shine no less than the sun beyond the ceiling. It was a single-use function, and one she¡¯d always hoped she wouldn¡¯t have to use because it¡¯d definitely break her watch. [But how will you get the violet rays?] Eria asked as she glanced at the twins, who were both taking cover behind tipped-over desks themselves, knowing they couldn¡¯t directly help Issam against Raya. [It cannot be normal firefly light. If you do not refract it through something that can leave only violet rays, you cannot¨C] Their mantles! The twins snapped to attention when she snuck over and tapped their shoulder from behind. Aylee, naturally, tried to jerk away when she started lifting her chisel as though trying to dismantle their mantles in front of them. ¡°Dahlia! What are you¨C¡± ¡°I have to borrow! A piece!¡± she said, breathless, falling over just to stop Aylee from jerking any further away; she needed enough moth fabric to cover the firefly bulb on her watch completely. ¡°Can¡¯t explain, but it¡¯ll help Amula find her Swarmsteel! Quick! Not much time!¡± If it were yesterday, the twins might not be so willing to just let her carve up their mantles, but now things were a little different. They didn¡¯t resist¡ªthey even helped her scrape the chitin scales off their mantles, making it easier for her to follow the steel thread as she cut out pieces of moth fabric with her chisel. Their mantles are made out of angle moth parts, right? she thought, managing to cut out two palm-sized pieces of fabric. Lepidoptera order insects, including butterflies and moths, exhibit violet patterning on their wings, meaning certain violent rays can be refracted if you shine a light through them! [... How did you learn about this?] [It is only a recent discovery on the surface, no more than two decades ago. No undertown textbook should have contained information on the violet ray refracting properties of lepidoptera insects, so who taught you¨C] Ten seconds left. A small fire was sparking inside the small firefly bulb, so she wrapped the moth wing fabrics around it once, twice, thrice more just to be sure¡ªand then she chucked the watch right into Raya¡¯s face, right as the timer went ding. Then, it turned into a bang. An explosion of heat and light shattered the windows, sent watch components flying everywhere, and gusts of winds whistled across the homeroom to clear the dust kicked up by Issam and Raya¡¯s fight. Naturally, the twin hissed and winced away from the sudden burst of light, but Dahlia was prepared. She hadn¡¯t known just how bright, exactly, her watch was going to flare before exploding, but in that one instant where the homeroom was washed aglow with waves of soft, violet light¡ªthere was something that glowed back within the boxes of scrap. A particular beetle Swarmsteel. ¡°... Now every giant bug below the school knows we¡¯re here, idiot.¡± She was just about to shout and point in the direction of the Swarmsteel when Raya fell behind her, and then the blunt end of a spear smashed into the top of her head. Her brain rattled. Her world flipped upside-down. If she wasn¡¯t already dizzy and disoriented enough from having been thrown around the past few minutes, this attack demolished the strength in her knees and sent her tumbling over. Issam blurred down a moment later to bat Raya away from her, but the damage had already been done; she wouldn¡¯t be standing straight for at least the next ten minutes while she clutched her head and tried not to cry. It hurts. Eria¡­ mama¡­ it hurts¨C ¡°The hell¡¯s the matter with you, man?¡± Issam snapped, his sword going left, right, down, a straight thrust aimed at Raya¡¯s heart; none of his attacks landed. Raya¡¯s wrist-mounted crossbow kept him from charging in recklessly, and the hornet spear¡¯s range kept his slashes at bay. ¡°Great Makers, if you don¡¯t want to work with us, then just leave us alone! Why the hell are we even fighting each other?¡± ¡°My speartip is constantly dull from all the bugs I¡¯ve been slaughtering,¡± Raya said idly. ¡°I need the mantis whetstone scythes of the second strongest if I want to beat that lightning hornet by myself. I need to be able to sharpen my spear mid-fight.¡± ¡°... Second strongest?¡± Somehow, Issam found the strength and time to laugh sardonically¡ªand Raya paused for a moment, leaping atop a wooden pole as Issam smirked up at him. ¡°I''m not the second strongest, Raya,¡± he said. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t want the Swarmsteel belonging to the third strongest student in school, would you?¡± Raya shrugged. ¡°Second strongest, third strongest, it doesn¡¯t matter. I will draw out your scythes¡¯ maximum potential¨C¡± ¡°Because you¡¯re the strongest?¡± The second laugh that bubbled out Issam¡¯s mouth was quite unfitting, and honestly quite jarring¡ªDahlia had never heard him laugh like that before. Issam? What are you¨C ¡°You¡¯ve made a grave mistake, then,¡± Issam said, his arms giving out as he let his blade fall to the ground. ¡°She may not look like it during sparring, and you may think just because she was held back a year that she¡¯s nothing special, but in an all-out fight where she can use everything in her environment to beat down her opponent, I¡¯d say she¡¯s just a little bit stronger than the both of us.¡± Then he sat down with a loud groan, making a show of grinning up at Raya. ¡°In a real battle, she¡¯s the strongest.¡± ¡­ Raya blinked. ¡°You¡¯d discredit all your efforts with your mantis scythes just like that?¡± he scoffed, shaking his head in dismay. ¡°Nonsense. Get up. You and I, we¡¯re the talents of the ninety-fifth generation of Alshifa¡¯s bug-slayers. You and I are¨C¡± And someone jumped at Raya¡¯s shoulder like a javelin, accompanied by a flash of fire¡ªall but one wooden pole snapped as the third fighter kicked Raya down into the Instructor¡¯s desk, through the desk, before he managed to stab his spear into the floor to halt his momentum. But his spear was trembling. His wrists were quivering lightly. Blood dribbled down his lips, and his eyes narrowed into dark slits as everyone turned to stare up at the true strongest student in the school. ¡°... Yer wasting our time,¡± Amula growled, as she balanced atop the wooden pole he¡¯d been standing on and tightened the straps on her winged beetle boots¡ªher bright orange eyes burning in Raya¡¯s direction. ¡°Get out of our way.¡± Chapter 13 - The Strongest Student ¡°Yer wasting our time,¡± Amula growled, as she balanced atop the wooden pole he¡¯d been standing on and tightened the straps on her winged beetle boots¡ªher bright orange eyes burning in Raya¡¯s direction. ¡°Get out of our way.¡± Raya, for his part, didn¡¯t respond to her provocation. His stance was tighter, his muscles glistening with sweat. Even Dahlia could tell he was wary of her strength¡ªand Dahlia had never seen him this serious before¡ªso it was no surprise that the first thing he did was snap his wrist-mounted crossbow onto her face, firing off a quick two-round burst. Minimal head movement. Amula dodged the hornet stinger by a hair¡¯s breadth, avoiding getting her left eye pierced through, but they still scraped past her cheeks and grazed her skin. Raya sighed exasperatedly. ¡°... My hornet stingers are all laced with a paralysing venom,¡± he said, yanking his spear from the ground and shaking off the tension in his arms with a small flourish; his eyes were back on Issam standing directly beneath Amula. ¡°Issam has already been grazed thirty-one times by my spear, while you have just been grazed twice by my ranged stingers. It will take Issam approximately five more minutes to fall, owing to his sturdy build, but you, I think three minutes is more than long enough. If you want to die in a more beautiful location, leave your Swarmsteel here and¨C¡± Amula took a step back and dropped off the wooden pole. She kicked three times, sending three wooden pole fragments flying at Raya. He frowned and deflected them with his bare hands, taking a slow step forward. ¡°¨CI was saying, if you want to die in a nicer place, take off all your Swarmsteel and¨C¡± She landed heels first, a small quake making the floor ripple around her, and kicked the entire rest of the pole at him. This time Raya swung his spear and cut cleanly through the centre of the projectile, aiming his wrist-mounted crossbow at her chest. ¡°¨Cjust leave. Go on back and help your friends or whatever in the shelter¨C¡± Of the dozen or so metal shrapnel that flew into the air from her hard landing, she kicked half of them forward, the projectiles completely annihilating the stingers as they flew at her. Counterattack. One of the metal shrapnel hit Raya square in his left shin, making him wobble for the briefest of moments, but that was all the advantage Amula needed to press forward. And, by ¡®press forward¡¯, Dahlia felt ¡®going anywhere but forward¡¯ was the more apt way to describe her fighting style. Raya lunged in, spear going straight for her head, but Issam dashed forward with his blade to redirect it; the swordsman chuckled and fell over afterwards, having completely run out of strength to match the spearman. But he¡¯d done his part. With Raya now positioned in the very centre of the room, Amula was allowed to dash off to the sides to kick up a storm¡­ and there was nothing she didn¡¯t kick at him. Broken hammers and blades and furniture from the mounds of scrap, fragmented wooden poles, the torn-down front door, a few firefly cages, and even a few of his own stingers that¡¯d bounced off her shrapnel just a bit earlier¡ªthe twins fanned their mantles and threw themselves over Dahlia just to protect her from all the flying debris, and Issam half-shouted, half-laughed at Amula to stop playing around. ¡­ Eria. [What is it?] Can I see Amula¡¯s Swarmsteel description here? [As you wish.] It took the little black bug on her shoulder some time, but for a second while Amula was still visible¡ªand not blurring circles around the room as she kicked everything she could get her feet on¡ªDahlia caught a glimpse of the status screen floating next to her head.
[2x Bombardier Beetle Boots (Quality = D)(Spd +7/7)(Tou +1/3)(Strain +333)] [Special Qualities: Explosive Jets (Quality = D)]
[It is as I thought,] Eria murmured. [Though it is a relatively low quality Swarmsteel, it is incredibly rare that someone can get all the speed levels offered by a speed-based Swarmsteel almost immediately after equipping it.] Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon. ¡­ Huh? But you said it¡¯s already incredible my bracers are giving me eight levels in perceptivity even though I¡¯ve only been wearing them for¡­ a day? [Generally speaking, perceptivity is the easiest level for Swarmsteel to increase. It is much more difficult for Swarmsteel to increase attribute levels such as toughness, as the toughness attributes offered are not typically evenly spread across a human body.] She covered her ears to stop them from ringing, every kick from Amula sending shudders through her body. Toughness isn¡¯t evenly spread? What do you mean? [Say, the pine sawyer beetle chestplate you are wearing. Right now, your toughness level is not getting increased because you have just equipped the chestplate¡ªand it would take time for your body to acclimate to it before you start getting bonus attributes¡ªbut would it be accurate to say your ''toughness'' has not at all changed just because your toughness level has not biologically increased yet?] That¡­ oh. Wait. How do you show it on the status screen, then¨C [Like this.]
[2x Cave Cricket Tibia Bracers (Quality = F)(Per +8/17)(Tou +0/1)(Strain +186)]
Her status popped up next to her head again. In the shadow of the twins¡¯ bracing mantles, she scanned the words and numbers quickly before realising she¡¯d never read it ¡®properly¡¯ in the first place, ever since she equipped her cave cricket bracers. Down there, next to the Swarmsteel name. It says¡­ plus eight out of seventeen perceptivity levels next to my bracers, but there¡¯s also an additional toughness number next to it? [That is because all Swarmsteel garments have an inherent toughness attribute, while all Swarmsteel weapons have an inherent strength attribute,] Eria explained. [To reiterate, the first plus eight-seventeen is the perceptivity levels you gain from an incomplete meld, but the plus zero-one in toughness is how tough your bracers are inherently. You are not receiving any increase in overall toughness levels from your bracers yet, but the ¡®one¡¯ in the second part implies the bracers themselves still have an inherent toughness of one attribute. Now, onto another example¨C]
[Pine Sawyer Beetle Chestplate (Quality = F)(Tou +0/3)(Strain +89)]
The words and numbers changed again. [Your actual toughness level may not have increased yet,] Eria said, [but if someone were to punch you on your chestplate, you would likely be able to endure it because the chestplate itself has an inherent toughness level of three. It would take a Swarmsteel weapon or an attack with at least three levels in strength to shatter it.] Dahlia blinked, and turned to look back out at Amula again. That¡­ makes sense, I guess. That all Swarmsteel have their own inherent toughness level. But we¡¯re getting off-track. I wasn¡¯t asking about the toughness. For Amula, you were saying¨C [That girl¡¯s beetle boots can offer her a maximum of seven levels in speed, and though she has only just now put them back on, her overall speed level has already increased by seven.] [Those boots are hers, and hers alone.] [Who knows just how many hundreds and thousands of hours she has trained with them?] ¡­ A mixture of awe and astonishment coalesced inside her. Maybe the twins weren¡¯t really watching while they were protecting her with their mantles, and maybe Issam wasn¡¯t really watching because he was lying flat on his back, breathing heavily, but it was all Dahlia could do to keep herself from cheering for her senior. This was the strength of the strongest student, ¡®Winged Heel¡¯ Amula. ¡°... These pointless things won¡¯t reach me,¡± Raya murmured, sounding almost disappointed as he sliced everything that flew his way apart, not having moved a single step from where he stood. ¡°This isn¡¯t interesting, either. Ranged battles are boring. If you¡¯re strong, then come into melee range and fight me like the bug-slayer you are. Or are you scared? If so, feel free to leave your Swarmsteel by the door before you¨C¡± Provocation may not work on Raya, but it definitely worked on Amula. She kicked a whole closet at his face and he cut it apart without much effort, but she was right behind the closet, a beetle prowling and leaping with both knees pulled up. Her snarl was real. She bowled straight into Raya¡¯s head and slammed him into the ground. A grunt of pain escaped him as he quickly wrestled her off with his spear and spun onto his feet, but his head swivelled left, swivelled right¡ªAmula¡¯s boot smashed into his forehead and she kicked him through the chalkboard, through the wall, before she curled her leg and dragged him back in with his neck wrapped under her knee. The fight ended when she tossed him to the ground and drove a heel into his spine, metal plates unfurling in a blossom around the point of impact. [... You really have strong, strong allies.] While the twins dropped their mantle, Issam sat up straight, and Jerie continued searching the mounds of scrap for his Swarmsteel, Amula turned to shoot a thumbs up at Dahlia. Not knowing the exact reason for the kind gesture, Dahlia returned one of her own¡ªthough hers was weak, trembling, and not at all sure of what it was doing. She just thought¡­ for many, many moments there, that her senior was rather cool. Well. Raya wasn¡¯t bad at all, either. Chapter 14 - The Liar For a few seconds after Amula drove her heel into Raya¡¯s back, the former strongest student of the Alshifa Bug-Slaying School remained deathly still on the floor. Silent. Unmoving. ¡°... What, did you kill him?¡± Issam mumbled, sitting up and wincing at the same time. Having been sliced by the hornet spear thirty-one times didn¡¯t seem to affect him more than seeing Raya lay unmoving under Amula¡¯s heel. ¡°Hey. Raya. I know you¡¯re not dead. I don¡¯t care how hard she kicked you through the wall and how hard she dragged you back in¡ªwe¡¯ve done way worse than that in sparring over the past five years, so get the hell up.¡± Dahlia and the twins reeled away when Raya suddenly surged upwards, his muscles driven by sheer rage and willpower, but Amula simply clicked her tongue before slamming his spine down again. With her free leg, she kicked his spear and sent it flying into the wall right next to Dahlia¡¯s head, while effectively shattering his wrist-mounted crossbow by stepping hard on his arm; even he would be hard-pressed to launch an attack in such an unfavourable position now. [How cruel.] That¡¯s just how Amula is¨C ¡°Hey,¡± she said, glaring at Dahlia with her hands stuck in her pockets. ¡°Take his spear and make sure he doesn¡¯t get his hands on it. If ye have to, just dismantle it. Ye can probably make something out of its raw parts¨C¡± ¡°Just kill me,¡± Raya grumbled, his voice raspy, his arms struggling to push his body off the floor. ¡°I¡­ lost. Losers don¡¯t get to live. Just kill me¡­ and get out of here.¡± Dahlia blinked as she slowly turned to look at the spear that¡¯d just narrowly missed piercing her ear. [He can still talk,] Eria remarked, sounding more impressed than ever. [Is he from a famous household of bug-slayers? It is already an achievement enough to have stayed conscious after that hit to his spine, but to think he is still able to resist¨C] ¡°Fuck no,¡± Amula spat, as she kicked him once more in the stomach before lifting her foot off his spine, stumbling away. ¡°Ye have problems and I don¡¯t like ye one bit, but without yer spear, you¡¯re hardly a threat to anyone. Ye won¡¯t land any surprise attacks with me around, so don¡¯t even try it. I¡¯ll beat ye down again.¡± Raya managed to raise his head, his neck straining, his dark eyes twisted into a nasty scowl. ¡°You¡­ sure about that? I killed half of our classmates even without my hornet spear. You don¡¯t think I can¨C¡± ¡°It¡¯s not a hornet spear.¡± Just this once, Dahlia didn¡¯t feel as pressured and nervous with all eyes landing on her¡ªher own eyes, after all, were tracing the sharpened edges of the ¡®hornet spear¡¯, and her suspicions were all but confirmed when she turned to glance at Raya¡¯s face.
[Eastern Honey Bee Spear (Quality = E)(Str +0/5)(Strain +251)] [Special Qualities: Pain Venom (Quality = F)]
¡­ It¡¯s just as I thought. If you look closer, the stinger is actually barbed. The reason why he said the stinger was constantly ¡®dull¡¯ is because it¡¯s not a hornet¡¯s smooth stinger. [Indeed,] Eria mused. [Depending on the species, a hornet can stab almost as many times as it wants without fear of ripping out its stinger. A honey bee, however, can only stab either once or twice before killing itself in the process¡ªjust how has this boy managed to hold onto his spear this long without breaking it in the process?] He¡¯s ¡®Godsent talent¡¯ Raya, after all. But if it¡¯s a honey bee spear, and not a hornet spear¡­ ¡°You lied about killing all our classmates with venom, because honey bee venom isn¡¯t particularly potent. It¡¯s just a bit¡­ painful,¡± she mumbled aloud as the twins stepped past her to pull his spear out of the wall, chattering amongst themselves while studying the gleaming stinger. ¡°Our classmates are strong. They wouldn¡¯t have died from simple honey bee venom. So, if you lied about that, I don¡¯t think¡­ you didn¡¯t kill anyone, did you?¡± ¡°...¡± Raya didn¡¯t speak. He didn¡¯t look her in the eye. For Amula¡¯s part she looked more than confused, scratching the back of her head in irritation, but Issam belted out a small laugh as she helped him off the floor; evidently, neither of them were particularly worried about the ¡®venom¡¯ Raya had injected into them now. Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more. ¡°Well, I figured,¡± Issam said, thumbing at the small grazes across his body. Amula agreed with a small shrug. ¡°I¡¯d always thought, during sparring, that you just weren¡¯t using the venom part of the spear for some reason, but we had a real fight going on just now, and I was still jumping around even after you grazed me a dozen times with your ¡®venom¡¯? Hey, how long have you been lying to us about your Swarmsteel being hornet-made?¡± ¡°I think he¡¯s even got Biem fooled,¡± Ayla said, as she pulled Dahlia onto her feet as well and all of them reconvened in the centre of the room, while Jerie was still struggling to pick out his Swarmsteel from the boxes by the walls. ¡°Seriously, does Biem know? That you¡¯ve been faking it for years with a ¡®hornet spear¡¯? What, is that wrist crossbow thing also a honey bee crossbow? Why didn¡¯t you pick a Swarmsteel that actually had paralysing or venomous capabilities?¡± Raya¡¯s eye twitched, and he whipped his head up to glare at Ayla. ¡°Tch. Listen to yourselves. ¡®Paralysing or venomous capabilities¡¯, like actually powerful bug-slayers need to rely on any underhanded tricks like that to slay a giant bug. A sturdy spear and a lacklustre ranged option is all I need to¨C¡± A low rumble outside the windows caught their attention, and the twins were the first to snap their heads around, faces pale as ash. Dahlia saw it a second later; a massive black wave of giant insects were scaling the hill up to the school, all bunched up and squeezed together as they tried crossing the flimsy wooden bridge where the dead beetle still sat in wait. They were more beetles, more crickets, more diverse in features than she could pick out one by one¡ªbut there were just enough of them that even if the bridge were to collapse right now, they¡¯d simply be able to climb over each other in order to reach the school. She estimated¡­ three minutes. Three minutes before they¡¯d find their way up to this exact room where her pocket watch had practically flashed a ¡®human presence¡¯ signal for all the undertown¡¯s giant bugs to see. Oh no. This is bad. Eria, I¡­ what do I¨C ¡°Alright!¡± Issam clapped his hands, his lips smiling but his jaw clenched with worry; it was hard not to sweat in a situation like this. ¡°We won¡¯t be leaving through the bridge, so we¡¯re going the other way! Out the window, over the railings, down the vertical cliffs! If we move fast enough we might just lose them before they can even pinpoint our exact location!¡± ¡°They already know where we are. It¡¯s just about how much damage they¡¯re gonna cause while they try to get up to us,¡± Amula said, as suddenly she darted over to the chalkboard and kicked in the rest of the wall¡ªa crack, a boom, and sunlight came flooding in through the giant hole she made, facing out towards the rest of the undertown. ¡°I can jump down and land safely with my boots, no problem, but I can only carry one person with me. Let¡¯s say I carry Dahlia since she¡¯s basically immobile. Issam, ye can kinda scale down with yer mantis scythes, ye twins have half-gliding mantles, but Jerie won¡¯t be able to get down safely.¡± ¡°And Raya, too.¡± Issam pointed out. ¡°Don¡¯t forget about him. Since you might¡¯ve just shattered his spine, he¡¯s basically the same as Dahlia in the movement department¨C¡± ¡°¨CI lost. Leave me here to die¨C¡± ¡°¨Cbut even if we can get down the cliffs safely, I don¡¯t think we can get far away enough that the Swarm can¡¯t catch up,¡± Aylee muttered. ¡°This won¡¯t work. Maybe we could half-glide off into the distance if it were just the two of us with the mantles, but Issam can¡¯t run that fast. Neither can you, Amula. You¡¯re already completely burnt out after that fight, right?¡± Amula frowned and tried to hide it by turning away, but even Dahlia could tell her knees were shaking slightly, and the shrapnel in her forearm she¡¯d obviously yet to remove since the fight with the giant beetle was gradually taking its toll on her. What do we do, then? How do we run? Eria. What do I¨C [You are the ¡®Make-Whatever¡¯, are you not?] Eria tapped its legs on her shoulder and beckoned her to take a look around¡ªignoring the arguing twins, ignoring Amula and Issam bouncing ideas off each other, ignoring Jerie still frantically searching the mounds of scrap for his Swarmsteel¡ªand then the little black bug reappeared on the bridge of her nose, its beady black eyes staring straight into hers. [In this armoury where all the strongest insect parts in the undertown are stored, can you really say you have no idea what you can make to get everyone out of here?] [Think, Dahlia.] [Do you see the ¡®path¡¯ out of this situation?] ¡­ So she took a deep, body-shuddering breath, before reaching to turn the dial on her pocket watch¡­ only to realise, when her hand completely whiffed behind her waistband, that she didn¡¯t have it with her anymore. She¡¯d destroyed it with that flash of light. But even still, she¡¯d managed to make a few shoddy chestplates without needing to listen to the rhythmic tick tocks of her watch¡ªso what was to say she couldn¡¯t make more Swarmsteel without it? Think, Dahlia. You are¡­ the ¡®Make-Whatever¡¯. She closed her eyes. Searched her memories. She recalled every little piece of scrap Biem had thrown into the mounds, every broken furniture, everything that¡¯d been deemed unusable and thus chucked into the deepest, darkest corners of the room where nobody would ever dream of uncovering it again¡ªhad she not spent the past five years of her life secretly wishing she could be allowed one unsupervised night in the homeroom, just so she could pick out everything she could potentially use for her Swarmsteel-making hobby at home? In the end, it didn¡¯t take her long at all to ¡®find¡¯ the insect part she¡¯d coveted most of all. Now, it was what they needed the most. She knew what she had to make. ¡°... I have a plan,¡± she said. ¡°I need¡­ help, though.¡± Chapter 15 - Glider ¡°Issam! Ayla, Aylee! Bring me the¡­ um, that giant, tough-looking piece of fabric over there!¡± she said, pointing left of the room before pointing straight ahead at the end of the room. ¡°And Amula! I need the chitin tubules over there! Can you bring me ten¡­ no, fifteen¡­ no, twenty! Twenty of the long ones! Please! And preferably the straight ones without any dents!¡± Amula narrowed her eyes. ¡°What about the tubules? The hell do ye want to do with them¨C¡± ¡°Here, Dahlia!¡± Issam shouted, tossing the giant roll of fabric at her with the twins¡¯ assistance, and she just barely avoided getting crushed by it with a little yelp. ¡°You need it to make something, right? We¡¯ll get you all the parts we need! Amula, stop screwing around and help with the tubules! Kick it at her as hard as you can!¡± She felt like complaining. Maybe Amula shouldn¡¯t kick the tubules as hard as possible, but the sentiment reached her. The three of them didn¡¯t waste any time as they rushed to the end of the homeroom, scraping the irrelevant junk off to the side as they searched for the tubules she needed, and¡­ even though Amula looked a bit hesitant to just drop everything they¡¯d been discussing in favour of Dahlia¡¯s unknown plan, she seemed to understand there wasn¡¯t nearly enough time to waste just standing around. Dahlia¡¯s expression was grim, but with her lips curled into a tiny smile, she fell forward on her knees and began unravelling the giant roll of fabric. Lucky for her, Biem had never touched or altered its shape, so cutting out the excess fabric shouldn¡¯t take too long with her chisel. [... The wings of a giant robber fly,] Eria commented idly as she got to work cutting the wings evenly, wanting to leave about ten metres of wingspan so they could properly ride on top of it. [Due to their rather aggressive hunting method of intercepting and grabbing prey out of the air, their wings have evolved to be stronger and tougher than most other insect wings. Why was something like this just sitting in the corner of your homeroom?] She grimaced when her chisel refused to cut cleanly through the wings. Though they were half-transparent, the membranes were tougher than they looked, and she wasn¡¯t so sure if she could just cut randomly across its veins. Maybe she¡¯d weaken the integrity of the wings if she wasn¡¯t careful. So, she let go of her chisel and hovered her bracers just a few inches off the wings, letting her bristles ¡®feel¡¯ out where she needed to cut. Instructor Biem made a joke once, saying he wanted to take the entire class out for a massive round-town glide on top of the wings. [Oh?] You can probably guess how the council responded when he brought up the idea to them. It wasn¡¯t guaranteed, and she wasn¡¯t completely, one hundred percent sure if it¡¯d work, but she had to do it now. Two minutes remaining. While Issam and the twins and Amula rushed back with their arms full of tough beetle chitin tubules, she ripped along the veins her bristles told her they¡¯d be ¡®fine¡¯ to rip¡ªand, surprisingly, using her bare hands to tear the wings was much easier than trying to cut them perfectly with her chisel. The steel threads don¡¯t lie when it comes to telling me how to dismantle something, after all. ¡°Issam! Place two tubules on both ends and shape them like an arrow!¡± she said, sweat beading down her brow as the sounds of the encroaching Swarm grew louder and louder. More snapping and clicking sounds. She tried to drown them out by keeping her back towards the windows. ¡°Ayla, Aylee! Make a little¡­ make two more arrows right next to each of Issam¡¯s arrows! Use four tubules each! Yours don¡¯t have to be as firm and perfectly aligned as Issam¡¯s, but try to make them as flat as possible! Attempt!¡± The twins flew off to work, and so did Issam. Amula tapped her foot impatiently and crossed her arms. ¡°What do I do, then? Just sit on Raya while I wait?¡± ¡°No! Sorry! Um, you have to¡­ um, your bombardier beetle boots!¡± ¡°What about them?¡± ¡°Once Issam and the twins have aligned their tubules, I want you to kick them down and burn them onto the wings!¡± she said, casting a brief glance at the senior¡¯s winged boots. ¡°You can make a bit of fire with your kicks, right? That¡¯s how you¡¯re so fast? That means, if you have enough control, you can¨C¡± ¡°I get it, I get it. I just have to do it like this, right?¡± Issam blinked. Then he dodged backwards with his teeth gritted as Amula blurred forward with a downwards heel kick, a tiny spark of a flame searing the beetle chitin onto the tip of the wing. Dahlia¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°That¡¯s it! Just keep doing that! And I¡¯ll keep on making sure the wings are properly trimmed down so we can¨C¡± But they¡¯d run out of time. Her three minutes were up. A dozen black legs stabbed through the windows as the Swarm blotted out sunlight, clouds of shrapnel flying inwards. Dahlia just managed to brace her head and neck with her bracers while everyone else dragged the wings deeper into the room, moving them away from the windows. The stone walls groaned. The ceiling creaked. The black legs were slashing wildly, trying to claw out anything they could reach, and by the sounds of legs skittering outside in the hallway she knew they really didn¡¯t have much time left. Damnit! Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. I can¡¯t¡­ I can¡¯t¡­ Her hands stopped moving. She felt an intense nausea rising in her as she struggled to remember what she was doing, which parts of the wings she still needed to tear. With the black legs mere inches away from cleaving off her head, she couldn¡¯t focus, couldn¡¯t breathe, couldn¡¯t think. Without looking, she reached into her pocket and popped a piece of candy into her mouth, missing her mark as the little red ball clattered against the ground¨C ¡°It¡¯s alright, Dahlia,¡± Issam said, his voice piercing through the haze in her ears, and she stopped shaking as much. Her hands stopped searching the ground for the candy she¡¯d lost. ¡°Calm down. Deep breaths, four seconds. Heavy exhale, four seconds. You still have about three minutes before any bug can break into this room, so don¡¯t worry about them and focus on what you have to do.¡± Then he glanced around, smirking softly as he did. ¡°It looks like he¡¯s finally found his Swarmsteel, after all,¡± he said. She didn¡¯t look. She didn¡¯t tear her eyes away from the wings below her. But she felt, in the corner of her eyes, rising to his feet at the back of the room¡ªthe boy who¡¯d not spoken a single word this entire time raised something long and sharp to his mouth, and when he blew through his Swarmsteel, it was a roar of a whistle that that rattled the bugs outside in unison. The giant bugs screeched, their legs pulled out of the windows, and their skittering outside in the hallway started running away from the origin of the sound; Jerie continued to play his flute, his voice heavy, fast-spoken, almost physical in the way the vibrations rang through her bones and drove deep into the floor. Even Issam and Amula had to clamp their hands over their ears as they continued working, the twins¡¯ grimacing smiles showing they were trying their absolute hardest not to accidentally nudge their tubules out of their positions. [... A pygmy cicada flute that produces sound loud enough to frighten even giant insects,] Eria explained, while she resumed tearing up the wings with her jaw clenched, teeth gritted. [There is a good reason why, even on the surface, it is almost mandatory for any travelling caravan to have at least one cicada flute user in the mix. They can end a battle before it even begins. And while it is not amongst the rarest of Swarmsteel or the hardest to make, most competent users of the cicada flute are typically aligned with some of the greater and stronger factions of the continent¡ªthat is, the cicada flute is only effective when the user in question is properly trained to use it.] [And what do you, children of Alshifa, call Jerie by?] Dahlia didn¡¯t have to think. ¡®Glass Breaker¡¯ Jerie. [A fitting name.] [And all of you continue to surprise me.] [A mantis swordsman who does not appear to feel pain, moth mantles twins who can perfectly manoeuvre within a dome of withered leaves of their own making, a bombardier beetle kicker who does not hurt herself with her own boots, a honey bee spearman who can equip multiple Swarmsteel at once without being overloaded with strain, and a musician who can properly play a cicada flute.] [To think, just beneath the Sharaji Desert, that there were trainee bug-slayers of your calibre¨C] The extra minute Jerie bought was all she needed. She finished the ¡®frame¡¯ of the giant glider¡ªa ten-by-four metre pair of veined wings, held together by twenty beetle chitin tubules and likely more than capable of carrying the weight of seven people. All they¡¯d need to get it to glide long distances was for someone to give it a fast running start, and Amula could easily do that. In truth, she wasn¡¯t really sure if it¡¯d hold under speed. Or under flight. If the tubules weren¡¯t arranged to be as sturdy as possible and the wings weren¡¯t as thick as she¡¯d thought, there was just as much of a chance that it¡¯d crumble the moment they tried to sit on it. ¡­ Maybe this was a risky plan after all. Maybe they¡¯d stand a better chance if they just tried scaling down the vertical cliffs with their bare hands¨C ¡°I don¡¯t think we¡¯ll need a running start to get this thing gliding! Ayla, Aylee! Help me get it out of the hole!¡± Issam shouted, jumping to his feet and lifting the back of the glider with two hands. ¡°We¡¯re gonna hang it there, sit on it, and then we¡¯re gonna drop it! Sounds simple enough, right?¡± ¡°Got it, boss!¡± the twins shouted. But before Dahlia could plunge into a spiral of self-doubting again, the twins picked up both ends of the glider and rushed to the hole alongside Issam. Amula kicked a pebble at the back of Jerie¡¯s head to get him to come with them, while simultaneously scooping the groaning Raya up in her arms; nobody and nothing important was left behind. Dahlia still knelt there, though. Next to the windows. The dozen black legs smashed back through the walls the moment Jerie stopped playing his flute, and part of her wondered why all the legs looked so familiar in her eyes. Was it because they reminded her of something? Was it because there were just so many of them clumped outside that they were but a single black mass, resembling Eria¡ªthe bug she hated the most in the world? ¡°... Dahlia!¡± Issam shouted, as the twins stepped tentatively out onto the massive glider, followed by Jerie, then Amula, and then Raya. The mantis swordsman was the one who¡¯d cut the glider off the metal bars they were hanging it off on. She simply stared at them. And for a good few seconds, she wondered if she should really go with them. Eria had said as much; they each had their specialties, and all of them were impressive beyond belief. If Issam wasn¡¯t right in front of her, offering his hand for her to take, could she really say she¡¯d want to go with them of her own volition? ¡­ ¡­ She could. She made the glider. And if she could ride it all the way to the northernmost end of the town, where her dad was, she¡¯d even take the front seat and keep her eyes wide open the entire flight. [Run, Dahlia.] [That is your creation.] She didn¡¯t think, and she didn¡¯t hesitate any longer. Issam and the twins roared at her to hurry as the first of the giant bugs flew in through the windows, the walls, the broken doorway, but she was running faster than she¡¯d ever run before. So what if she was afraid of heights? When she jumped, and when she leaped to take the twins¡¯ outstretched hands¨C Issam severed the metal bars the glider was hanging on, and then there was the sensation of weightlessness, a terrifying downwards lurch. They were plummeting atop the glider. ¡­ I''m coming, dad. I promise.
Arc Two, ¡°The Fifth-years of the Bug-Slaying School¡±, End Interlude 3 - The Sina Child Journal entry #4988 ¡­ Today, my child was born. It¡¯s a girl. Frankly, I¡¯m ashamed I couldn¡¯t even be in the room with my wife when it happened¡ªI was out treating another patient instead of staying faithfully by her side, and it wasn¡¯t until eight hours later, when Neera from the noodle store found me napping in a back alley that I realized she¡¯d given birth. But it¡¯s a girl. I took one look at her and realized she inherited more of her mother¡¯s traits than mine. Those amber eyes. Those left and right head movements. Those grabby little fingers, I¡¯m still wincing now as I write this entry because how hard she grabbed my hands. I¡¯m even more ashamed to admit my first thought was ¡®she doesn¡¯t resemble me at all¡¯, even though I am certain I have delivered more newborns in the past year than any other doctor has and I, of all people, should know newborns do not exactly come out as identical clones of their parents. Or one of their parents, at least. Maybe I¡¯d wished she had my dark hazel eyes? Maybe I¡¯d wished she were a boy instead? But it¡¯s a girl, and oh Great Makers she¡¯s so adorable. She¡¯s on my lap right now. Kicking her little legs. I can¡¯t focu Apologies. I have never missed a day of comprehensive journaling in the past eight years, but tonight I want to play with my daughter. This might be an evil thought, but I want her to like me more than her mother. I¡¯ll end this entry here today.
Journal entry #5121 I was taking a little nap on the sofa today when I saw my daughter waddling all of a sudden. I immediately sat up straight and cheered her on, of course, and I think I cried a little when she was able to walk from the front door to my legs in under five minutes. I bribed her with a piece of candy and told her to do it again, so she did it the second time in under four minutes. The third time, in under three minutes. She hit a little block in getting it under two minutes, but by the time my wife came home from work she was able to get it under a whole minute. My wife is elated, obviously, and she¡¯s still spinning our daughter around in the living room outside right now, but¡­ now that my head is clearer and I¡¯ve had a good few bottles of alcohol, isn¡¯t four months a bit too early for her to be walking on two feet? The other newborns I regularly check up on, they usually only start walking around ten to twelve months old¡ªis my daughter just super talented or what? Are her legs muscles already in rapid development? How was she able to balance herself with those short, stubby arms of hers? Babies are so peculiar. Perhaps I¡¯m not that brilliant of a doctor after all. I must borrow more books from the library tomorrow.
Journal entry #5818 She said her first full sentence today! She said her full sentence today! It was ¡®I like papa more¡¯! Haha! Hahahahahahaha It took her a bit longer than most other kids to speak a full sentence, but actually hearing her say it out loud makes all the waiting and teaching her how to speak worth it. I can¡¯t believe it. How does her brain work? And why is it that my wife is always outside during these momentous occasions? I¡¯m hogging all the glory here, not that I mind so if she doesn¡¯t pick the early hours on her job and I get more opportunities to be with our daughter during the evening¡ªwhich is when she¡¯d achieved all of her important milestones so far¡ªit¡¯ll be like I¡¯m raising her all alone. ¡­ I don¡¯t really want that. When¡¯s my wife coming home, anyways? She¡¯s been working herself a lot harder lately. I wonder if it has anything to do with her trying to distract herself from feeling that compulsion. ¡­ ¡­ This is no good, Sanyon. Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators! You promised to cure your wife five years ago, and you still haven¡¯t made any progress on that front. I¡¯m sorry, my daughter. Papa can¡¯t play with you tonight. I have to hit the books and start taking research really, really seriously from now on.
Journal entry #6388 Today¡¯s my daughter¡¯s first day of Primary General School. I didn¡¯t realize they¡¯d changed the education system in the General School since my graduation¡ªnow primary education starts when the kids are six and ends when they¡¯re nine, which is an earlier start compared to me going to school at seven. I suppose it¡¯s a good thing if they start making friends at an earlier age, but that also means I won¡¯t see her much more during the afternoons when I¡¯m usually out for work. My wife is going to see her more often than me now. ¡­ Hah. Well, I still get the evenings with her. And if I just do my job as a doctor better to make sure people don¡¯t get sick as often, I get to come home more often. That also means I get more time to continue my research on my wife¡¯s ailment, and¡­ I don¡¯t know. It¡¯s been two years since I seriously started and I¡¯ve made little to no headway. My wife¡¯s skin is unusually tough, and it¡¯s difficult for me to draw blood from her because even if I can do it, she¡¯s naturally frail and anemic¡ªshe gets dizzy if I do it too often for testing and experimentation. I don¡¯t know. I don¡¯t know. Should I tell some of my colleagues about her compulsion? Maybe they¡¯d know something about But there¡¯s no way they¡¯d know anything about it. I¡¯ve read all the books on insect ailments five times over and I¡¯ve come up with nothing. If it¡¯s an ailment that one can only find on the surface, then it only makes sense that medicinal books of Alshifa may not be the most detailed or informing. I¡¯ll have to start checking out the Bazaar tomorrow evening to see if any traders have medicinal books brought down from the surface. Maybe I should¡¯ve done that sooner, but¡­ ¡­ My daughter might get suspicious and ask questions if I stopped seeing her as often during the evening as well, but she¡¯ll never know. I¡¯ll never tell her. I¡¯ll cure my wife¡¯s ailment before she ever realizes something¡¯s wrong.
Journal entry #7561 I don¡¯t know. I don¡¯t know. I don¡¯t know if keeping my ¡®research findings¡¯ in this journal does anything to help me keep track of all the information I¡¯m learning. Is it an ailment in her stomach? In her heart? In her brain? What¡¯s the source of her compulsion? I¡¯ve tried asking about her past before she stumbled down into Alshifa, like how did she get here, why did she come here, what was she doing on the surface before she came here¡ªbut she doesn¡¯t remember anything. None of my colleagues are able to help. None of the up and coming doctors are able to offer any hints. The only strange thing I¡¯ve noticed is the fact she shares the same nightmares as our daughter has, about that ¡®giant black bug¡¯ that sucks out her blood¡­ I only know this because she¡¯s told me about it, that it''s been happening even before our daughter was born. Sometimes she¡¯d toss and turn and scream in the middle of the night and I¡¯d have to wake her up in a cold sweat, but last night was the first time our daughter did the exact same thing. What¡¯s going on? I don¡¯t understand. Is it a blood sickness? Is it a hereditary ailment? Is our daughter going to turn out like my wife, too? Am I looking in the completely wrong direction, thinking it¡¯s something biological to be cured instead of something mental that needs to be overcome? Am I¡­ ¡­ No. This journal isn¡¯t just to talk about my research. Today, our daughter turned eight years old, and as per Alshifa tradition she gets to pick her own name. My wife wanted her to pick something properly girly, but I wanted her to pick something properly strong so she could be strong for the both of us. Our daughter didn¡¯t hesitate much at all when she said she wanted to be named after that flower that we grow outside on the field. At first, I didn¡¯t understand why she wanted that name when we¡¯d give her a list of common names to choose from¡ªmy wife was overjoyed, of course. She¡¯d have been overjoyed no matter what name our daughter picked¡ªbut then I thought about it for a bit longer and came to a pretty solid conclusion. Of the dozens upon dozens of flowers we have tried planting outside, above the Northern Alshifa Hill where it¡¯s abysmally cold three hundred and thirty-three days of the year, the Dahlia flowers are the only ones that have survived. ¡­ Dahlia. Dahlia. Dahlia. I think I can get used to that name. - Excerpt from ¡®Secret Sina Household Journal¡¯, Written by Sanyon Sina Interlude 4 - The Sina Promise ¡°... Papa! Play with me!¡± little Dahlia says, bouncing up and down as she points out the window. Today is a not-so-cold day, which would be a perfect day for all of them to go out on a miniature picnic. Alas, her father is tired. He has spent the entire night drowning himself in his books, and he has no energy to spare for little Dahlia. ¡°Go out with your friends,¡± he murmurs, as he raises his head from the living room desk and rubs his eyes. Little Dahlia pouts and clenches her fists, but he pats her head and nudges her out the front door anyways, waving at her. ¡°It¡¯s a good day today¡ªdon¡¯t waste it being stuck inside this dreary little cabin.¡± ¡°... Okay!¡± He watches her run off to the edge of the hill, disappearing down the stairs. He¡¯s not entirely sure who she hangs out with. Maybe the children from the orphanage right downstairs? It would only be fitting, that the child of an orphan would mingle once more with the new orphans of this generation; he isn¡¯t particularly worried about the kind of people she will play with in the future. His wife steps out of the bedroom and leans against the doorway, smiling weakly. ¡°She¡¯s nine already. She doesn¡¯t need to play with us anymore,¡± she says, sounding forlorn, and he jumps to his feet with worry pooling in his eyes. He helps her back to the bed, but when he tries to rest her head on a pillow she pushes his hand away. The little black insect claw that¡¯d replaced her left pinky scratched his wrist and he winced, reeling away slightly. ¡°... Oh. Sorry,¡± she mumbled, face gaunt and ghoulish as she stares out the window. He argues it¡¯s not her fault and tries to get her to rest on the pillow again, but she shakes her head adamantly, lips pursed. ¡°I don¡¯t¡­ feel like I can sleep anymore.¡± His face darkens as he squeezes her hands. ¡°And what does that mean?¡± ¡°My body physically can''t fall asleep anymore.¡± ¡°...¡± ¡°I¡¯m always starving, too,¡± she says, as she rubs her stomach and grins at him cheekily. ¡°You never bring me insects to eat anymore, so I¡¯ve been resorting to catching anything I can find around the house recently. They don¡¯t taste nearly as good as the strong, muscular ones you can find in the Bazaar, but¨C¡± ¡°Last night, I injected high concentrations of your blood into mine.¡± She holds her tongue. He is silent. He looks away for a second¨C Then she slaps him, and her black insect claw cuts sharply across his cheek; it doesn¡¯t hurt a single bit. ¡°... What?¡± she growls, as she grabs him by his collar and pulls him closer. He shows her no expression. ¡°You¡­ you what? Why¡¯d you do that? Do you even know what¡¯ll happen if you do that? What if you¨C¡± ¡°That¡¯s the point,¡± he murmurs. ¡°If I get the same compulsion as you, I¡¯ll be able to study it better. I can document my own experiences in my journal. I¡¯ll also be able to conduct tests on myself easier than I can with you, so I¡¯d say it¡¯s a worthwhile risk to take. I¡¯m healthier than you, anyways, so I can actually walk myself to another doctor if I ever need help¨C¡± Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°And what about Dahlia? ¡°Are you going to experiment on her as well?¡± ¡°... Of course not.¡± He reaches into his pocket and pulls out two dead grasshoppers¡ªhe¡¯d caught them last night in the Bazaar and cut their heads off with his scalpel. She gulps and licks her lips at the sight of the bugs. ¡°I¡¯ll find a cure to this, and Dahlia will never have to know,¡± he says, as she suddenly snaps at one of the grasshoppers with her teeth and he pulls it back, flicking her forehead. ¡°I¡¯m still going to hold you back from eating insects, but¡­ once a month. Once a month, we¡¯ll each eat one insect together, and then we¡¯ll starve ourselves for the rest of the month. No human food. No bread, no water. This way Dahlia gets more food to eat, and we also train our jaws to forget the motion of eating. We won¡¯t eat until we¡¯re cured.¡± ¡°... And if you don¡¯t find a cure? What will we¨C¡± ¡°I¡¯ll find it. ¡°I promise. ¡°When have I not delivered on my promises?¡± He hands one of the grasshoppers to her, and she takes it gingerly with both hands, eyes watering. She nods, and she trusts him. She believes in him. So now he must live up to his promise, and that will have to begin with¡­ this. ¡°... Does it always look so gnarly in your eyes?¡± he says, recoiling with obvious disgust as he gets a closer look at the decapitated grasshopper. She laughs and bumps foreheads with him, pressing forward so she could feel his heat better. ¡°Dummy,¡± she whispers. ¡°Don¡¯t cut off the heads next time. They¡¯re the best part of the grasshopper.¡± He curls his lips. ¡°They look revolting. I don¡¯t want the eyes and stuff.¡± ¡°Well, the head¡¯s usually where I start. Just this once, though, let¡¯s go with... the legs. Just bite them off like you¡¯re pruning branches on a tree.¡± ¡°And they''ll taste good?¡± ¡°Um¡­ maybe?¡± She shrugs, and moves to clink their grasshoppers together as though they are bottles of alcohol. ¡°On the count of three, okay?¡± ¡°Sure.¡± ¡°Three.¡± ¡°Two.¡± ¡°Oh, and don¡¯t spit it out halfway. Finish it¨C¡± ¡°One.¡± He starts with the right legs, she starts with the left legs. He immediately wants to vomit. The chitin cuts his tongue, the muscles spasm as though the legs had minds of their own¡ªhe immediately doubles over to try to regurgitate his ¡®food¡¯, but she clamps a hand over his mouth and forces him to swallow. He musters his courage and does exactly that. ¡°... How was it?¡± she asks, a weary smirk on her face as she flicks his forehead. ¡°Not so bad after all, right?¡± He licks his teeth and makes a sour face, holding up the rest of the grasshopper. ¡°... I¡¯ll find a cure. "I''ll get our lives back. ¡°I promise.¡± - Scene from Sina Household past Chapter 16 - The Landing ¡°... Why can¡¯t I turn the needle back?¡± little Dahlia asks, sitting in her father¡¯s lap as he puts on the finishing touches for her fiftieth pocket watch. Her fingers are fiddling with the dial; she doesn¡¯t have the strength to rewind time. ¡°Papa. Help¡­ me¡­ turn it¨C¡± ¡°You can¡¯t turn the dial back,¡± her father says, whacking her hands off the dial as he begins chiselling the engravings on. ¡°I made it so you can never adjust the time backwards. If you miss the time by a single minute, try for tomorrow and cycle through the next round.¡± Little Dahlia looks back at her father, puzzled. ¡°But why can¡¯t you make it so the dial turns back?¡± ¡°Because the gears I use click in place once they turn in one direction, so they can¡¯t go back.¡± ¡°Then why don¡¯t you use different gears?¡± ¡°Because nobody complains about having to turn another whole cycle. It teaches patience. It teaches precision. If you don¡¯t want to waste time turning an extra cycle, be careful and make sure you wind the minute hand to where it needs to be.¡± ¡°But that¡¯s not fun! If you can rewind time, it¡¯ll be easier¨C¡± ¡°Life can only be seen backwards, but must be lived forward. That is why my watches cannot be rewound.¡± Then he pauses for a moment to smile at her. ¡°No matter what mistakes you have made, you cannot give up; you must move forward,¡± he said. ¡°Do you understand, Dahlia?¡± ¡°...¡± Little Dahlia pouts, but nods begrudgingly. ¡°... But I¡¯m complaining about it now.¡± ¡°You¡¯re not a paying customer, so I¡¯m not taking your complaints seriously.¡± - Conversation from Sina Household past
Issam severed the metal bars the glider was hanging on, and then there was the sensation of weightlessness, a terrifying downwards lurch. Dahlia had promised herself not to regret her decision, but she wasn¡¯t like the twins with their moth mantles or Amula with her bombardier beetle boots; she was someone who had to grip the railings with both hands every time she travelled up and down the stairs to her house. Her nails dug into her arms and a shiver raced through her the moment the glider dropped, and the world around her became a blur. The winds became physical, cutting into her cheeks. The undertown seemed miniscule beneath her, a toy model she could reach out and crush in an instant¡ªbut Issam pushed her down quickly, flat against the glider, and then they were soaring. Oh no oh no oh no. It¡¯s going to break. The ten-by-four metre glider was just big enough for all seven of them to lay flat on their stomachs without falling off, but ¡®not falling off¡¯ was all it was. The twins¡¯ legs were dangling behind on both ends of the glider, Issam and Rayas heads were poking out at the front. Amula and Jerie were squished between the twins, and everyone¡¯s hands were clenched so tightly onto the glider that they deformed the chitin tubules holding it together underneath. As they plummeted the first ten metres down the cliffs¡ªa near vertical fall that made all the blood rush away from Dahlia¡¯s head¡ªshe squeezed her eyes shut. She screamed. Maybe the others screamed as well, but then someone whacked each of them on the heads to get them to stop clenching onto the wings so tightly. That brief second where the wings were allowed to unfold properly made all the difference. The tubules pushed out. Returned to formation. The whole thing reoriented itself and the winds gave it lift from below; Dahlia¡¯s blood stopped draining from her head. She still refused to open her eyes, but by the gentle wind flutters and the nervous, insane cackles of the twins from both sides, she could tell they were gliding ¡®properly¡¯ now. ¡°... Haha! It worked? It worked! Great Makers! I can¡¯t believe¨C¡± ¡°Let all of Alshifa know it was I who had faith in Dahlia this entire time! It was me! You non-believers, I told you all¨C¡± ¡°Can you guys shut the fuck up? You¡¯re annoying. My back still hurts.¡± ¡°Yer the one who attacked us first, so shut up. I didn¡¯t kick ye that hard. Also, yer technically our prisoner now, so don¡¯t ye even dare dare to think about breaking this glider.¡± ¡°And kill all of us together? No thanks. I still have a score to settle with Issam.¡± ¡°With Issam? What about me and Ayla? You literally whacked us on the head with your spear and said¨C¡± ¡°You¡¯re irrelevant, trickster. Fighting you is a waste of time. Now, beetle girl and cicada boy I don¡¯t mind fighting as well, but¨C¡± ¡°Roll this guy off the glider. Get him outta here.¡± ¡°Got it, boss!¡± ¡°Stop touching me, bitch. You wanna go right now? I can toss all of you off this glider if I really want to, but that won¡¯t be fun at all¨C¡± ¡°Jerie, shatter this guy¡¯s eardrums.¡± ¡°Thweeet!¡± ¡°Ow, what¨C Jerie, not that loud. Yer gonna kill the rest of us if ye keep playing like that¨C¡± ¡°Thweet! ¡°Thweet! ¡°Thweet!¡± [... They are quite the lively bunch,] Eria observed, as everyone continued rambling and squabbling and trying to knock Raya off the glider without getting themselves knocked off in the process. [You should open your eyes and take charge. This is your glider, after all. You should get a say in deciding who gets to stay on.] She bit her tongue and squeezed her eyes even harder. I can¡¯t. The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. [A bug-slayer cannot be afraid of heights, Dahlia. Statistically speaking, there will come a time in the far future where practically a third of all your hunts will be conducted mid-air, due to the inherent unfair nature of most powerful giant insects possessing wings and thus a natural high ground advantage¡ªyou must learn to jump high, fight high, and then fall high.] Mid-air fights in Alshifa? That won¡¯t ever happen. This is an underground cavern. Once this is all over¨C Someone gripped her hand and pried it off the glider, making her heart drop. Fear. Panic. She was only clenching onto the glider with one hand. She needed her other hand¨C ¡°Look, Dahlia,¡± Issam said, as she heard him scooting back so he was sitting cross-legged next to her; they were gliding so slowly the winds weren¡¯t knocking him off. ¡°There¡¯s nothing to be worried about. The Swarm back there isn¡¯t chasing us. I don¡¯t think they can spot us thirty metres up in the air, so¡­ why don¡¯t you open your eyes and take a look? I doubt we¡¯ll ever get a sight of Alshifa like this ever again.¡± ¡­ She hesitated. Her heart continued beating hard notes against her ribs. She had to force her body to calm its breathing, but when that was done to no avail and she mustered the strength in her neck to shake her head¡ªIssam flicked her forehead hard, making her snap her eyes wide open to scowl at him. ¡°Hey!¡± she snapped ¡°Made you look,¡± he countered. Her breaths were still coming out quick and unsteady, but it was only now that she noticed the faint rays of light coming from her left, falling softly, gently onto her skin. The light tickled her. It raised the bristles on her bracers. Her eyes couldn¡¯t help themselves; while they were still half-scowling, they sparkled with the lights of childlike curiosity she¡¯d not carried in her eyes since the day she first learned how to make a pocket watch from her father¡ªso she turned the entire rest of her body to the left, taking in Alshifa from a bird¡¯s eye view. From twenty metres above, the undertown was utterly resplendent with the earthen-tiled roofs glimmering under sunlight. Though the streets were barren and colossal insects wandered aimlessly around, the Bug-Slaying School behind them dominated the south, the council hall watchtower dominated the west, and the wilted, golden fields of firefly-grown wheat swayed like waves in the east. They weren¡¯t gliding particularly fast, but the winds that funnelled through the chasm in the ceiling was enough to nudge them slightly east, over the golden fields. She glimpsed in the corner of her eyes stone farmhouses and fancy manors, small parks and demolished stores, the lakeside quarters completely overrun by a horde of giant ants¡ªseeing the ants reminded her they weren¡¯t on a sightseeing trip, but if Instructor Biem had brought the entire class out on a round-town trip like this a year ago, maybe she¡¯d have¡­ maybe she¡¯d have more fun going to school back then. But seeing Alshifa like this now was all fine and well, too. It¡¯s¡­ pretty. [It certainly is,] Eria mused. [If you had an insect class with wing mutations, you would be able to see this whenever you want, too.] Slowly but surely, the iron grip of fear began to loosen its hold around her heart. It was almost imperceptible¡ªa single finger relaxing, then another, and then another, as slowly she allowed only Issam to hold onto her as her free hand let go of the glider. Her breathing slowed further until each exhale blended with the sound of the wind playing with her hair, flowing through it. There was terror and tranquillity in equal parts to be found so high up, and¡­ if she could help it, she wanted to focus on the latter. ¡°... Wanna steer the glider, Dahlia?¡± Issam asked, guiding her forward on her stomach and grinning as he did. ¡°If possible, we¡¯ll fly as close as we can to your house so we can pick up your dad directly, but I don¡¯t know how to land this thing. If you know a safe spot we can kinda land in at the base of your hill, in the Old District, then you should probably¨C¡± [Duck.] The warning signs were there. The flicker of harsh blue on her left, completely dominating the golden rays of sunlight for a brief second, before there it was again¡ªa tingle on her bristles, the hair on the back of her neck standing on end. Normal giant insects may not be able to see them, gliding so slowly over the undertown, but slow movement only meant it was all the easier for the lightning hornet to aim at them. She noticed the lightning first, slamming her body down to make the glider lurch, but Amula and Raya were quick to notice too. They rolled over to the right to make the glider tumble, and the lightning javelin pierced through the underside of the left wing with a hefty bang, a bone-shuddering explosion. It wasn¡¯t done yet. While the glider completely lost its balance and the twins started screaming, Jerie started playing his flute in a panic, the lightning hornet¡ªlittle more than a small blue dot in the far distance¡ªthrew another javelin at them. It tore across the air, screaming all the way. This one hit them centre mass, and the whole glider shattered into pieces twenty metres above the ground. Fall. ¡­ That¡¯s a pond down there! We can land in it! If it wasn¡¯t for Eria injecting adrenaline straight into her veins, she wouldn¡¯t be able to shout and point directly down at the giant glass building they were about to fall through¡ªthe Sarowan Garden, the only building in the entire undertown designed to grow and harvest ¡®exotic¡¯ vegetables they couldn¡¯t grow out in the open. She could spot the glimmers of a pond right underneath the metal-reinforced glass; it¡¯d be an impossibly tight landing, but they had to do it. They had to land there. It was the only way they could survive the fall, and without hesitation, Amula grabbed her wrist before kicking off her chestplate with an explosive leap downwards. Her breath was kicked right out of her as Amula went ahead of all of them first, plummeting straight through the reinforced glass so none of them would be cut up by the shards. [Impressive.] [Her quick thinking abilities are top-notch as well.] Dahlia didn¡¯t have the time to feel impressed, though. She was a swirl of flails and motion as she plunged feet-first into the deep, cold pond; weeds tickled her shins and her nose felt like it¡¯d burst with water, but she managed to stay conscious. She managed to keep all her bones intact. Frantically then she clawed for the surface, and it wasn¡¯t like when she¡¯d first fallen into the sewers just yesterday with the bug trader¡ªshe found her way rather quickly this time with her bristles vibrating in the direction of air. Gasps for air rang out around her all at the same time, and while she tread water with little kicks, paddling slowly to the soft grass shore, she did a headcount to see if everyone was here. The twins were holding onto each other a bit behind her, Jerie was already being pulled on shore by Amula, and Issam was trudging out of the pond with Raya draped across his shoulders like a sack of eggplants. She breathed a sigh of relief. Amula was the only one sporting a dozen small cuts across her body¡ªowing to literally kicking through an entire glass ceiling, no doubt¡ªbut they didn¡¯t look deep enough to leave any lasting scars. Good. I¡¯m¡­ tired, though. And the same could be said for everyone. Issam tossed Raya forward and crumbled like a sack of eggplants himself, the twins lay half-submerged in the pond as they hugged each other on the shore, and only faint melodic notes were dribbling out of Jerie¡¯s cicada flute. Amula was the only one strong enough to at least fall ceremoniously, dipping into a cross-legged seat, and by the time Dahlia managed to crawl out of the pond herself¡ªthey all sighed, eyes blearily open and staring at the giant sunlit hole in the ceiling. [All of you should rest for the remainder of the day.] Eria nodded slowly, appearing on the grass right next to her head. [You have fought enough. Tend to your wounds, chew on your bread, and finish the rest of your journey tomorrow.] [As long as you do not make too much noise, the Swarm will not find you here.] She chewed her lips and kept on staring at the hole in the ceiling. ¡­ And that lightning hornet? [What of it?] With that range, with that accuracy, with that power¡­ that¡¯s an oriental hornet, right? Can we ever hope to defeat a bug like that? [...] Eria didn¡¯t answer her immediately. And she decided, in the end, that maybe she didn¡¯t really want to hear the answer. [... First and foremost, you must rest,] Eria said. [There are quite a few beetle and robber fly parts scattered about this garden, so I am curious to see what you will make of them.] Chapter 17 - A Garden Reprieve Little Dahlia has a nightmare. She dreams she is stuck to her bed with sap, and a giant black bug is towering over her, trying to drain her blood. It is the eighteenth time she has had this same dream, but it frightens her every single time. She closes her eyes and screams¡ªher father and mother rushes into the bedroom, scalpel and firefly cage in hand. She awakes and sobs into her mother¡¯s arms, while her father checks under the bed with worry pooling in his eyes. Young as she may be, little Dahlia knows there is something wrong with her. The other children don¡¯t scream like her. But they don¡¯t dream like her, either. How can sleep be comfortable for anyone who sees what she sees? ¡°Hush, hush. Was it that black bug again?¡± her mother whispers, shifting her around and humming a soft lullaby, ¡°Don¡¯t be scared, don¡¯t be scared. Papa will find it and crush it like the bug it is. Isn¡¯t that right, papa?¡± ¡°... Right,¡± her father mutters, as he gets up on his feet and closes the window shutters. Now the bedroom is completely dark save for the firefly cage on her mother¡¯s waist. ¡°We can sleep early tonight, I guess. My research can wait until tomorrow. Want water, Dahlia?¡± Little Dahlia nods slowly, and her father leaves for the living room. Her mother sits on the bed and lays her in the centre, pushing the pillows so they form an arrow-shaped fortress around her head. ¡°Mama¡­¡± she begins, as her mother lets her go and she reaches out; her mother draws away. ¡°I can¡¯t. It¡¯ll¡­ it¡¯ll come back. It¡¯s not under. It¡¯s over. It¡¯s over my head.¡± ¡°So if papa cannot crush it, you will look it in the eye and crush it yourself,¡± her mother says, bopping her on the nose. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, don¡¯t worry¡ªjust one more year and you¡¯ll be old enough to enrol in the Bug-Slaying School. Then you will learn to never be afraid again.¡± ¡°... Really?¡± ¡°Really.¡± ¡°Promise?¡± ¡°... Promise. ¡°Oh, I have an idea. ¡°Why don¡¯t we go out for a picnic tomorrow, at the Sarowan Garden? ¡°I hear they¡¯re letting us fish for our own food tomorrow!¡± - Scene from Sina Household past
Two hours before midnight. Dahlia sat alone at the pond¡¯s edge, casting the reel on her handmade fishing rod for the last time to pull in the final floating piece of beetle chitin. By the time she reeled it in and trudged back to the giant willow they¡¯d made their camp around, her stomach was already growling and her legs about to give under her¡ªso Ayla slid in from behind and poked her calves gently once, making her yelp as she fell onto her stomach. The twins laughed and helped scoop up all the beetle chitin she¡¯d dropped, dumping them all into the pile of insect parts she¡¯d gathered over the past eight hours. Amula was busy polishing her boots with a clump of wet grass, Jerie was playing a bouncy tune with his eyes closed, and Raya was laying on his back. His back was still bruised and likely in terrible pain. Issam, on the other hand, seemed as cheery as anyone could possibly hope to be in the midst of the carnage; he¡¯d been cooking pots upon pots of sweet carrot and cabbage soup over a small campfire for a few hours already, and still he showed no signs of ever stopping. His mantis scythes were chopping ingredients on their own while his hands tended to the flames, stirring the soup with a ladle he¡¯d brought from the shelter. She felt a little twinge of jealousy in her chest as she sat up straight, wondering how he could look so professional at cooking when she was sure she¡¯d spent more time cooking for both her and her father the past two years, but¡­ he was Issam after all. They weren¡¯t on the same level. [... You are not at all lacking beetle and robber fly parts to make something for everyone here,] Eria commented idly, as Issam continued humming a soft tune while stirring and she picked up a few insect parts, piecing them together to see how they could fit each other. [Now, then. Before Issam finishes his soup and the twins get too bored harvesting vegetables from the garden over and over, make something better than the chestplate that could barely endure two good blows.] She touched her chestplate, over her stomach where she¡¯d been stabbed by Raya¡¯s spear and kicked by Amula¡¯s boots. The chestplate still saved my life, though, she thought. Maybe I should make more armour? [But now you can do better by combining two types of insect parts together. Fusion types are almost always stronger than pure types.] Of course, she knew that already, but she¡¯d been actively avoiding any attempts at combining multiple types of insect parts¡ªif she fell into that sort of ¡®perfectionist¡¯ mindset where she could spend as much time as she wanted on every Swarmsteel, she¡¯d end up spending too much time just sitting around, and that was time spent not heading back home. Time was precious. Time couldn¡¯t be wasted. That was why her pocket watches couldn¡¯t be rewound. Even now, her chest ached a little, wondering if her father was doing alright¡­ but Eria spoke reason. None of them were in any condition to keep on travelling today after their crash landing into the garden. A good night¡¯s rest wouldn¡¯t benefit her as much as those who¡¯d actually suffered a fair amount of non-insignificant injuries, but she was also more than capable of realising the reality of the situation now¡ªif she didn¡¯t want to die, she had to work with other people. So, now she had to sit down, and now she had all the time in the world to tinker with new Swarmsteel. I¡¯m thinking¡­ something like a mantle? Her hands moved on their own, not needing the ticking sounds of her pocket watch anymore. The crackling on the bonfire was enough, and Jerie¡¯s soft-toned music was enough. My chestplate¡¯s a little tough, but because it¡¯s going over my clothes and it¡¯s also pretty restrictive around the chest, it can¡¯t really meld with my body and makes it hard to breathe. A defensive Swarmsteel that can touch more of my skin while also being light and flexible would be ideal¡­ right? [That is a good direction to start in, yes.] While the twins rushed back and forth to pilfer more vegetables from the garden, she picked out the largest intact pieces of the robber fly¡¯s wings and estimated their dimensions with her eye, placed flat against the soft bed of grass. If she wanted to make full-on mantles like the moth mantles the twins had, she wouldn¡¯t have enough wing fabric for everyone, but if it were only short capelets that could defend their shoulders¡­ that could work. Stronger beetle-reinforced capelets for the melee fighters, and softer, more flexible mantles for me and Jerie and the twins who don¡¯t particularly enjoy being in range of close-ranged attacks. Would that work? [You could try.] For now, she got to work laying out all the wings on the grass. Four mantles and three capelets for the seven of them. Her chisel was still rusted, but it was sharp enough. The steel thread glimmered in her eyes as she followed the lines of destruction, and faintly she felt she heard someone speaking next to her. She ignored it. She carved out ten, fifty, a hundred scales from a single beetle chitin, and started pressing each one into the robber fly¡¯s wings, all evenly spaced. Then she curled the scales¡¯ sharpened edges into the fabric, making them stick before flipping the wings over to interweave the edges¡ªmaking doubly sure the scales wouldn¡¯t fall off even during violent, jerky motions. Melee fighters needed to be able to endure harsh blows, and runners like her needed to be lightweight. If she could do that for every single piece of apparel¨C ¡°Dahlia.¡± She stopped breathing. Someone was tapping her shoulder. She turned, she looked, she reeled instinctively; Issam smiled mischievously as he pushed her a bowl of vegetable soup. ¡°Everyone¡¯s already eating,¡± he said, tilting his head at the rest of them, and she blinked a few more times for good measure before looking up at the sky¡ªmoonlight was dimmer, and all they really had was the campfire to light the garden. ¡°Let¡¯s just finish our meals and then go to sleep early tonight, alright? We¡¯ve got another long day ahead of us.¡± ¡°... Mm.¡± She pushed the mantle in her lap aside to make way for the hot wooden bowl, and it was only when she picked it up that she noticed something else off to the side. There wasn¡¯t one, not two¡ªthere were already three completed mantles sitting next to her, and for their part, the twins were just staring. So was Jerie. So was Amula, and so was Issam as he pulled back to the campfire to pick up another bowl, scooting over to hand it to Raya. For his part, Raya was still lying on his back, legs crossed and his spear being used as a pillow. ¡°I don¡¯t want it,¡± he said. ¡°Just eat the thing,¡± Issam said. ¡°I lost the fight. This is my punishment.¡± ¡°Oh, Great Makers. What will I do with you?¡± Issam muttered, as he placed the bowl next to Raya¡¯s head and scooted away, rejoining the rest of the group. ¡°We know you didn¡¯t kill anyone. Sure, you might¡¯ve whacked Dahlia and the twins harder than you needed to, but we don¡¯t hate you or anything. Your spear¡¯s a sham, your crossbow¡¯s a sham, I doubt you were even awake when the cocoon fell from the sky. You probably spent the entire past day cooped up in the loo or something, and just realised this morning¨C¡± ¡°Everyone died right in front of me.¡± Raya spoke, with such casualness, that everybody stopped sipping on their soup for a second. They waited to see if he¡¯d continue. He didn¡¯t. ¡°... We ran from the Bazaar when the cocoon landed in front of us as well,¡± Issam said quietly, and everyone lowered their heads. ¡°We weren¡¯t the mantis that stood in front of the carriage. We weren¡¯t the bug-slayers we thought we were. If, for some godforsaken reason, you think you¡¯re weak because you couldn¡¯t protect everyone in front of you, then what in the Great Makers¡¯ good name would we be¨C¡± ¡°Weaklings.¡± Raya shrugged, rolling over so his back was turned towards them. ¡°Them, too. Our fifth-year classmates. They died in a single hit to that lightning hornet. The graduates, too, and the guards, and everyone who stood up against it¡ªit¡¯s no normal giant insect, and I can¡¯t beat it with just my spear and crossbow.¡± This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. ¡°...¡± Dahlia lowered her bowl, frowning when she felt she saw the slightest twitch of a muscle underneath Raya¡¯s tunic. Eria didn¡¯t miss it either. [Is he¡­] She immediately shuffled over and pulled his shirt up, making him hiss and whirl on her, but everyone saw it in that brief moment as well: the veiny web-like wound dealt just between his shoulder blades, charred black as though he¡¯d been doused in liquid fire¡ªor zapped by an extremely precise bolt of lightning. ¡­ Raya snatched up the bowl Issam had placed next to him and started downing it greedily, glaring at all of them as he did. ¡°I didn¡¯t lose,¡± he mumbled between breaths, between swallows. ¡°I didn¡¯t fucking lose.¡± ¡°... You still lost to Amula,¡± Issam shrugged, taking a loud sip of his soup as Dahlia returned to her seat. Her brows were still furrowed. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter if you were injured. Amula was also injured after our fight with the beetle on the bridge. You lost. Now eat the soup slowly or you¡¯ll choke¨C¡± ¡°We¡¯ll fight again.¡± ¡°No we won¡¯t. We have to work together to protect the people in the shelter. If we don¡¯t¨C¡± ¡°Then nothing changes,¡± Raya said, tossing the bowl aside as he wiped his lips with his wrist, looking them in the eye one by one. ¡°The hole in the ceiling won¡¯t close. What¡¯s to say more giant insects won¡¯t crawl in after a few more days? What¡¯s to say that lightning hornet isn¡¯t calling more giant insects down as we speak? Will this end if all you do is hide in your shelter and pretend the rest of the undertown isn¡¯t completely annihilated?¡± ¡°...¡± ¡°No. This won¡¯t end. Run and hide all you want, but now that the Swarm is here and that lightning hornet is at the heart of it all, it has to die. Then we can see to escaping to the surface before more giant insects crawl down here.¡± Aylee shook her head as she took a loud sip. ¡°The surface? We can¡¯t go up there. There¡¯s nothing on the surface but the Swarm.¡± Ayla dipped her head mid-sip. ¡°We don¡¯t know that. Maybe there are survivors on the surface and they know what¡¯s been going on down here. Maybe they¡¯re even sending bug-slayers down to help us right now.¡± ¡°I find that hard to believe,¡± Raya said, as he returned to lying on his bed, legs and arms crossed behind his head. ¡°We don¡¯t know a single person in a hundred years of recorded history who has been to the surface and back. All the giant insect parts we have are from other undertowns where giant insects occasionally manage to invade. Nobody¡¯s been to the surface in a hundred years for a reason.¡± ¡°It¡¯s impossible to think there¡¯s nobody living on the surface, though,¡± Issam murmured. ¡°Think about it¡ªthat lightning hornet is nigh-unkillable right now, and the Swarm has overtaken Alshifa, but we¡¯re still alive. We¡¯re still here, hiding in the shelter and in this garden. Maybe there are small refugee towns on the surface we just don¡¯t know anything about. Hey, maybe the other undertowns are doing fine as well, even though they haven¡¯t sent any bug-slayers over to help us out¨C¡± ¡°Um. I have¡­ a confession to make.¡± Dahlia raised her hand¡ªbefore she¡¯d even taken a single sip out of her soup¡ªand she purposefully stared down at it to avoid meeting anyone¡¯s eyes. Eria was perched on the rim of the bowl, staring up at her pointedly. [I cannot stress how incredibly risky this decision is, Dahlia.] I know. [If you tell them everything, there exists a possibility¨C] They won¡¯t. They¡¯re not¡­ like that, I don¡¯t think. [... As you wish, then.] It was difficult, then, for her to figure out where to start¡ªshould she just mention she ate a strange silver worm and gained a magical system? Or should she just frame what little she¡¯d heard about the surface world from Eria as information she¡¯d read from the library¡¯s books? In the end, she wanted¡­ to change. To be a little braver. To move forward a little. So she started from the very beginning once more, retracing her steps, doing exactly what she¡¯d done back in the shelter when she was explaining how she escaped from the sewers¡ªonly this time, she started from the very beginning: when she¡¯d listened to the bug trader¡¯s dying words. When he¡¯d given her the Altered Swarmsteel System by making her eat a metal worm. How she¡¯d actually defeated the cave cricket with Eria¡¯s assistance, and how she managed to run away from the wolf spider long enough for Issam to come to her rescue. The points and attributes and levels were a bit difficult to explain without being able to show them the status screens only she could see, but¡­ Eria supported her all the way through, nodding on her shoulder whenever she started faltering and looking away. It was important she told them everything she knew, so they stood even the slightest bit of chance against the lightning hornet. And once she was done, once she started panting slightly to catch up on the breaths she¡¯d been refusing to take, for the sheer amount of words she¡¯d never ever spoken in one go in all her life¨C The first question came from Raya, of all people. ¡°So you can see how powerful my spear is?¡± he asked. She blinked. Was that his first question? ¡°Yes, I¡­ can,¡± she said, as she squinted slightly at the little box next to his spear. ¡°It¡¯s an Eastern Honey Bee Spear with five levels in strength and quality ¡®F¡¯ venom. Truth. It''s¡­ a pretty powerful Swarmsteel compared to the rest of ours.¡± ¡°And what are the attribute levels on Issam¡¯s mantis scythes?¡± She looked over, and Issam shied away slightly as though trying to hide his little box. ¡°Orchid Mantis Whetstone Scythes. They have one level in strength and two levels in dexterity.¡± ¡°Hah. So my Swarmsteel is better than yours, Issam. I win.¡± ¡°...¡± Everyone grumbled as Raya started chuckling to himself, and Dahlia looked nervously around at the rest of them, fingers twiddling. Did none of them have anything important they wanted to say to her? Like ¡®why did you keep this from us for so long¡¯ or ¡®why are you the only one who gets it¡¯¡ªthey were all big questions, big interrogations, big stressing points she¡¯d been working herself up over. Did they not believe her when she said there was a little black bug sitting on her shoulder? More than worrying someone was going to try to rip the Altered Swarmsteel System out of her spine, were they just thinking she was lying? ¡­ Maybe this wasn¡¯t such a good idea after all. If I say it¡¯s all just a joke and that I¡¯m tired, maybe they¡¯ll forget about it by tomorrow. Mm. That could work. I¡¯ll just¨C ¡°So there are people on the surface, then,¡± Issam mused, twirling a nonexistent beard under his chin as his head lolled up at the ceiling. ¡°They¡¯re skilled enough to make something like the Altered Swarmsteel System as well, and they¡¯re also strong enough that someone like the bug trader is just a ¡®trader¡¯ instead of an elite hunter. That¡¯s great news, isn¡¯t it? It means if we do get the chance to go to the surface¨C¡± ¡°There¡¯s a chance we can find a settlement or a town!¡± Ayla said, bobbing her head happily in between bites of her cabbage. ¡°It¡¯s not completely hopeless, see? Even if the Swarm is still dominating ninety-nine percent of the surface, as long as there¡¯s that one percent of civilization capable of holding its ground, we can get there. We can survive.¡± ¡°The people back in the shelter will be delighted to hear this, too,¡± Amula mumbled, as she started polishing her boots again, eyes burning in the direction of moonlight. ¡°They¡¯re demoralised right now thinking there¡¯s no way to recover even if we get rid of the Swarm in Alshifa, but now we have something to look forward to. To jump to. Maybe I should just try jumping out quickly to see if there¡¯s really something up there?¡± ¡°Don¡¯t do that,¡± Aylee mumbled back, stealing a piece of cabbage from Ayla¡¯s bowl and trading it for a smaller chunk of carrot, much to the shorter-haired sister¡¯s dismay. ¡°First, that lightning hornet is still standing guard beneath the hole. You¡¯ll be shot out of the air if you try jumping over it. Now, if you take Raya with you and use him as bait¨C¡± ¡°Just kill the lightning hornet first before thinking about going to the surface,¡± Raya grumbled. ¡°Also, screw you too. You twins are the ones with the underhanded, flashy distraction tricks. If anyone should be bait, it should be you two.¡± ¡°How rude. Jerie, shatter his eardrums.¡± ¡°Thweep!¡± ¡°Fuck you, cicada boy. And say something for once. You mute or what?¡± ¡°Don¡¯t bully Jerie. Also, aren¡¯t we completely glossing over the fact that we could just try to seal up the hole in the ceiling before checking up on the other undertowns?¡± Issam said. ¡°We don¡¯t exactly have to go up to the surface. We¡¯ll have to kill the lightning hornet either way, but if it¡¯s possible we should at least try¨C¡± ¡°I don¡¯t¡­ understand,¡± Dahlia whispered, as her bowl trembled in her hands and her eyes watered ever so slightly; she tried her hardest not to look at any of them directly. ¡°Aren¡¯t you¡­ angry? That I didn¡¯t tell you? You could¡¯ve all¡­ you could¡¯ve all died this morning because I didn¡¯t tell you everything I knew. Maybe we could¡¯ve made better strategies. Better moves. I don¡¯t¡­ I don¡¯t¨C¡± ¡°Well, that¡¯s because nothing has really changed even after you told us all that,¡± Issam said nonchalantly, as he stretched one of his mantis scythes forward to push her bowl up to her lips, forcing her to lift her head. A lone tear dribbled down her cheek. ¡°The plan is still the same: we¡¯ll go to your house tomorrow to get your dad, return to the shelter, and then try to gather more survivors before thinking about taking the lightning hornet on. Sure, now we know there¡¯s people living on the surface, but it¡¯s not like we weren¡¯t going to check anyways, right?¡± ¡°...¡± ¡°So, there¡¯s no need to cry.¡± Issam shrugged. ¡°Right now, we should just be focused on resting, and I¡¯m thinking we shouldn¡¯t all go to Dahlia¡¯s house tomorrow. Some of us should stay and continue harvesting all the vegetables we can from the garden so we can bring them back to the shelter. I doubt they¡¯re salivating at the thought of eating bread for the rest of their stay there.¡± ¡°The injured should stay here, then?¡± Aylee suggested. ¡°I can stay with Ayla, and with Raya and Amula as well. I think out of the seven of us, we¡¯re the four who¡¯d been hit the hardest by the beetle¡­ and by Raya as well. Bitch.¡± ¡°Weakling.¡± ¡°It¡¯s decided, then!¡± Issam clapped his hands, continuing to nudge Dahlia¡¯s bowl forward with his mantis scythe such that she had to eat and swallow. ¡°Me and Jerie will go with Dahlia to her house tomorrow, and then we¡¯ll head straight back to the shelter with her dad. The four of you should also leave this garden with all the vegetables by noon tomorrow, at the latest. I don¡¯t want the Swarm to figure out we¡¯re holed up here¨C¡± ¡°I¡¯m going with the girl,¡± Raya said. ¡°I¡¯m also going with Dahlia,¡± Amula said. ¡°Thweep!¡± Jerie said. ¡°You stay here with the two of us and help us move the vegetables with your mantis scythes,¡± Aylee said, casting a suspicious look at Issam¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Honestly, you¡¯re pretty badly hurt as well. Amula¡¯s glass cuts are mostly superficial, but Raya did a number on you with the amount of times he grazed you. You stay. Dahlia goes with Raya and the seniors. Just the three of them as support is more than enough to make sure they¡¯re safe, right?¡± Issam was just as surprised as Dahlia upon hearing Raya and the seniors¡¯ request. ¡°Raya¡¯s hurt even more than I am,¡± he argued. ¡°I¡¯ll go. I know the way to Dahlia¡¯s house. If anything happens, I can lead¨C¡± ¡°The girl also knows where she lives, and I¡¯m still stronger than you even if I¡¯m injured,¡± Raya muttered. ¡°You sit out of this one. I¡¯ll take the lead. Maybe there are spare insect parts I can use to upgrade my spear in the girl¡¯s house.¡± ¡°Come on. That¡¯s not the reason why you¡¯re offering to help. And you too, Amula. Jerie. Why would you suddenly offer¨C¡± ¡°It¡¯s okay,¡± Dahlia said, as she cupped her bowl with both hands and took long, massive sips, savouring every last drop of the sweet carrot extract and munching down on the cabbage as fast as she could. ¡°This is¡­ really good soup. The best I¡¯ve had in a long time. Make this for the people back in the shelter, o¡­ kay?¡± ¡°...¡± ¡°I¡¯ll be fine with just the three of them,¡± she whispered. ¡°Promise.¡± Truth be told, she wasn¡¯t exactly sure why each one of the three offered to go with her as well, so Issam¡¯s worried face was more than justified¡ªbut there was truth in Aylee¡¯s words, and Issam was more injured than he¡¯d been letting on. Raya was the godsent talent, and the seniors were the seniors. They could accompany her to her dad well enough. ¡°... Alright,¡± Issam finally said, sighing as he returned to stewing the pot, cooking up another batch of cabbage soup. ¡°Anyone still hungry? We¡¯ve got lots of vegetables to work with here, so it¡¯ll be better if we eat all we can before we split up tomorrow morning.¡± ¡°I¡¯m stuffed,¡± Ayla said. ¡°Same,¡± Aylee agreed. Issam didn¡¯t bother hearing the others out as he turned to smile at Dahlia. ¡°Will you be able to finish whatever Swarmsteel you¡¯re making in another hour?¡± he asked. ¡°You should sleep early, too. We all should.¡± ¡­ She blinked, looking almost surprised that he accepted the outcome so easily, but she nodded firmly without hesitation. They believed in her. All of them believed in her. So she had to make them the best Swarmsteel she could make. Chapter 18 - Detour Little Dahlia holds her mother¡¯s hand as she tours the Bug-Slaying School for the first time. They are here to visit the facilities and meet the other Instructors by the council¡¯s recommendation¡ªthe recommendation, of course, given as an exclusive privilege to the Sina household only because little Dahlia¡¯s father is one of the best Swarmsteel Makers in town. Instructor Biem sits on the roof, watching little Dahlia and her mother play around with the giant insect training dummies. Her father appears behind him with a crate of uncorked alcohol, scowling at the smoke in his mouth. ¡°It¡¯s not healthy for you, Biem. You¡¯re a bug-slayer,¡± her father grumbles, as he sits down beside Biem and slices the smoke with his metal claws. Biem clicks his tongue in irritation. ¡°And watch where you smoke as well. Don¡¯t do it around Dahlia. I don¡¯t want her to grow up like you.¡± ¡°You don¡¯t want her to grow up strong?¡± Biem shakes his head in mocking dismay. ¡°You haven¡¯t changed a bit, Sanyon. Not since you whacked that smoke out my dying old man¡¯s mouth and gave him a candy stick instead. What, you do that for everyone on their deathbeds?¡± ¡°I do. Want one?¡± ¡°Just give me a bottle.¡± The two clink their bottles together and race to see who can down theirs the fastest¡ªSanyon is out of practice, so Biem wins without any trouble. The bug-slayer decides to interrogate the doctor with a few sly questions. ¡°Those your girls down there, huh?¡± Biem says, narrowing his eyes at little Dahlia crying over the giant insect dummy and her mother patting her head, soothing her soul. ¡°The outsider who can dismantle anything in one minute and the little runt who screams every time she sees a bug. Why¡¯d you bring them here? You want to enrol that little runt into my school?¡± Sanyon takes a swig of his unfinished bottle. ¡°My wife wants it. I want it, too. It¡¯ll be good for her.¡± ¡°I disagree. If you can¡¯t stand bugs, you can¡¯t stand bugs. Simple as that. Just send her off to the General School so she can become a doctor like you. Great Makers know we need more people like you¨C¡± ¡°We¡¯ve been teaching her how to make Swarmsteel lately,¡± Sanyon says. ¡°She¡¯s¡­ pretty good at it. Better in a month than me in a year. Guess she¡¯s got her mama¡¯s talent and my stubbornness mixed in one.¡± Biem scowls. ¡°And why would you involve her in a field of bugs when you know she fears them more than anything else in the world?¡± ¡°Because fear is the child who clenches her fist in the face of a bug, and if her fist is clenched, she is not making anything,¡± Sanyon says, as he unravels a single hand and shows off his new surgical Swarmsteel; five black steel claws, double the length of his fingers. ¡°I made this, by the way. It¡¯s not up for sale. It¡¯s like I have five scalpels on me at all times. Now I can cut you up five times as fast the next time you trip down the stairs.¡± ¡°... So, what?¡± ¡°So what?¡± ¡°You want me to give preferential treatment to your runt once she enrols?¡± ¡°I want you to help her find the Swarmsteel she wants to use,¡± Sanyon says, leaning back in his seat with a heavy sigh. ¡°Whether she discovers it in the back of the homeroom, steals it off another student, or makes one of her own, I don¡¯t particularly care¡ªbut if she has a Swarmsteel that only she can use and only she can hold, she will never be able to clench her fists again.¡± ¡°...¡± Biem sighs as well, lolling his head to the side. ¡°I¡¯ve got two kids too, you know?¡± he mumbles. ¡°I can¡¯t be watching over your little runt the entire time she¡¯s here. It¡¯ll kill me.¡± ¡°Oh, come on, Biem. Just keep tossing Swarmsteel at her and¨C¡± ¡°But,¡± Biem mutters, ¡°You dressed my old man up real nice before you put him in the box, and I don¡¯t think¡­ I¡¯ve ever seen him look that good before.¡± ¡°...¡± ¡°I¡¯ll watch over your little runt, Sanyon,¡± he says. ¡°At the very least, I¡¯ll make sure she gets beat up in training every day. But I also want five bottles of alcohol from the uptown Nirzaq store every month as payment.¡± ¡°... Deal.¡± - Scene from Alshifa Bug-Slaying School past
Come seven the next morning, bright and early, everyone washed their faces in the pond before Issam saw Dahlia off at the glass door entrance. As per the decision they¡¯d made last night, Issam and the twins would stay in the garden for a few more hours, gathering as many vegetables as they could before heading down south to the shelter. Dahlia would be leading her party in the opposite direction. Just a few hours of quiet walking away from the northernmost hill, they expected to reach her house by noon at the latest, then all the way back to the shelter by midnight¡ªprovided they wouldn¡¯t be detected during the whole process, of course. It could easily be an extra day or two if they had to scuffle with the Swarm here and there, so, at the very least, Dahlia didn¡¯t want to part with Issam and the twins without having repaired their Swarmsteel. Just a bit of polish for Issam¡¯s mantis scythes and a bit of fabric mending for the twins¡¯ moth mantles, but she had other gifts for everyone else as well. ¡°... Capelets for the three of us, huh?¡± Issam said, as all of them he looked over their shoulder to their new scaled apparel; she¡¯d made sure to add extra beetle scales onto the theirs for more defence, and for that reason alone, they were much, much shinier than the full-body mantles the rest of them wore. ¡°Just curious, with your¡­ Altered Swarmsteel thing. How much ¡®toughness¡¯ do these capelets give?¡± Eria tilted its head on her shoulder and the little boxes popped up, one by one next to everyone¡¯s heads.
[2x Pine Sawyer Beetle-fuse-Robber Fly Capelets (Quality = E)(Spd +1/1)(Tou +0/3)(Strain +103)] [Pine Sawyer Beetle-fuse-Robber Fly Mantle (Quality = E)(Spd +1/1)(Tou +0/1)(Strain +93)]
¡°Three inherent toughness levels and one speed level for the capelets, and one inherent toughness and speed level for the mantles,¡± she said, dipping her head apologetically at Jerie and the twins. ¡°Sorry the mantles aren¡¯t as good as the capelets. Confusion. I¡­ don¡¯t really know why they give the same speed levels as the capelets even though there¡¯s more material overall.¡± [Because the extra weight from the extra material slows it down,] Eria said. [Remember to tell them, however, that the toughness only applies to their shoulders for now. Although they have all melded with their apparel enough that their overall speed level has increased by one, if Raya is punched in the face, his skin will not exhibit the properties of someone with an extra three levels in toughness.] You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story. That last part was incredibly important, she supposed, so she informed the others to not rely on her Swarmsteel if possible, and to run if they ever found themselves in grave danger. Her mantles and capelets increased all of their overall speed level by one, which meant she was actually twice as fast as the ¡®average human¡¯ already¡ªor, at the very least, her speed level should be two if she were to check her status screen now. Theoretically, it sounded unbelievable. Physically, she woke up this morning feeling a little¡­ light around her shoulders. The best thing about her mantle was the fact it¡¯d only prick the skin around her neck a little whenever she took it off. She supposed the only reason why everyone could remove their mantles and capelets so easily was because her Swarmsteel weren¡¯t all that good. [Generally speaking, the lower the quality of the Swarmsteel, the easier they can be taken off without causing pain¡­ like in this scenario, where you can take your mantle off easily even though you are obtaining the full speed bonus,] Eria consoled her, and she stared glumly at the little black bug as everyone exchanged good luck hugs. [There is use for lower quality Swarmsteel, you see. Sometimes you want to be able to quickly equip and remove a low-strain Swarmsteel depending on your situation. If all you have are S-rank Swarmsteel that permanently binds to your body, you might find your options limited in times of great crisis. That is why common militia on the surface tend to equip only lower quality Swarmsteel¡ªbecause they do not want to carry high-strain Swarmsteel around all the time.] ¡­ Are you complimenting me? Eria wiggled around happily. [You are most welcome.] The twins kicked Raya in the shins one more time for good measure, Amula muttered something to Jerie behind them, and Dahlia took tepid steps out the front door to immediately wince¡ªsunlight was glaringly bright so early in the morning, and the glass building wasn¡¯t helping with the superheated refraction. The cobblestone tiles were steaming beneath her feet, the air shimmering before her face, and when she unconsciously turned around to maybe wash her face in the pond one more time¨C She nearly bumped headfirst into Issam, who was leaning by the door and smiling at her ever so softly. ¡°... Trust my gut instinct. You¡¯ll find your dad,¡± he said, as he reached out to pat her on the head; this time she didn¡¯t mind it as much, but still she grumbled, muttering under her breath as she looked elsewhere for comfort. ¡°Don¡¯t do anything reckless, okay? Keep yourself safe first. Let Amula and Jerie handle all the fighting, and if need be, use Raya as bait while you guys run away. He¡¯ll work as excellent bait.¡± ¡°Hey.¡± ¡°Good¡­ um, good luck to you too,¡± she mumbled, as Eria chided her to look him in the eye as she spoke. She knew it was only polite, too, but his eyes were too bright and dazzling. She didn¡¯t manage to hold onto his gaze for long. ¡°We¡¯ll see you by tonight or early morning tomorrow, then. Depends. Maybe we might be a little¡­ slow. Because of my dad.¡± Issam¡¯s smile somehow widened even more as he patted her head again, eyes slanted. ¡°We¡¯ll be waiting, then.¡± The twins said their goodbyes as well, and then the four of them were off, turning right with their hands tracing the walls of the garden. The strategy was the same¡ªstick close to the sides of the street, try not to walk out in the open, and ignore any giant bug they could ignore. Every daylight hour they wasted would be an extra hour of moonlight they¡¯d have to trudge through, and there was no doubt there¡¯d be more giant insects up and about during the night. They had to travel as far as they could without being reckless all the same. A task easier said than done, of course. Past the garden, onto the Eastern Harzhal Street, the stores were packed to the brim with small spider egg sacs bulging and pulsating in every dark corner, under every cold shelf. The legs of their colossal mothers often jutted out the broken windows, and the entire street looked like a death trap just waiting to activate at the sound of a single misplaced step. Dahlia waved the four of them away and decided to go for the second route. Instead of trying to sneak directly through the Bazaar¡ªwhere the lightning hornet still sat, no doubt¡ªthey decided to go for the long route where they¡¯d head far northeast first before turning for the west, eventually routing their way to the northernmost hill. But the Northeastern Burqal Street wasn¡¯t much better, either. The former pottery street was dominated half by crickets and half by leafhoppers, clinging to the walls in their slumber. They got down on their stomachs and crawled a whole kilometre. Then it was Northeastern Keefa Street, overrun by all colourful, all manners of stink bugs¡ªthey had to cover their noses with their capelets and mantles the whole way through the smog, walking on their tiptoes so as not to alert the bugs in the alleys. Then there was the glassware street, guarded by a flutter of butterflies overhead; there was the sweets district, where the stores were completely bursting with honey bees crawling in and out; there was also the perfume street, now permanently occupied by a single, giant scorpion they didn¡¯t even want to try sneaking around. They took the even longer route around instead. Eventually, though, they stepped foot onto the Northern Bridge Street¡ªthe final street between the New and Old Districts¡ªand for a second Dahlia allowed herself to sigh a breath of relief. Just one more street. One more. After that, we¡¯ll¨C Her bristles rustled. Raya and Amula, who¡¯d been walking behind her this entire time, whirled to the left before she could even tense up¡ªthey must¡¯ve been staring at her bracers closer than even she was paying attention to them. ¡­ Eria. Do you detect anything inside that two-storey building? While the four of them remained frozen, Raya¡¯s spear poised and Amula¡¯s knees bent and Jerie¡¯s flute pressed to his lips. Eria jumped off her shoulder and skittered a few steps forward, towards the half-collapsed building in front of them. Sunlight didn¡¯t reach this district in full. Their firefly lanterns weren¡¯t lit. She could barely see a thing inside the building through the broken wall, but if she had any amount of intuition, she swore she heard something moving in the dark¡ªand her suspicions were proven correct as four tiny white eyes blinked out at them, a little motion so quick and so fleeting she barely caught it all. But Raya saw it, and so did Amula. The two dashed forward into melee range, aiming to end the fight before it could even begin, and the moment they did¨C Eria spoke, andshe repeated Eria¡¯s words. ¡°Stop! Don¡¯t kill them! Not giant insects!¡± She shouted, with all of her might, and were it not for Jerie supporting her with a sharp whistle of his flute, both Raya and Amula would¡¯ve taken the heads of the two children who started trudging out of the dark. Instead, the melee fighters screeched to a halt and ran through the walls, crashing into the building quite unceremoniously. Dahlia winced with second-hand pain. They must¡¯ve been as ready to back off as they¡¯d been to charge, but now they¡¯d all made a ruckus and her bristles rustled again; giant insects were swarming around their location, and fast. Without thinking too much about it, she hurried Jerie and the two children back into the building, whispering for him to light up his firefly lantern so they could work with some light. He did so immediately¡­ and while Raya and Amula stood up groggily, clutching their heads, Dahlia lowered herself and held both children by their shoulders. The two of them were young. Horribly young. The little boy had to be six at best, while the older sister was maybe seven, maybe eight¡ªfar too young for their plain tunics to be stained black with blood and mud. Their eyes were deep in their sockets, heavy bags making their face appear twenty years older than they really were, and judging by the thickness of hardened ash across their bare skin, they¡¯d probably been lying under debris for the past two days waiting for someone to pass by outside; it was no surprise their cheeks were bony and their breaths were haggard as well. If they hadn¡¯t eaten or drank anything, then¡­ ¡°Raya, Amula. Do you¡­ have some bread and water from your backpacks?¡± she whispered, gently pulling the kids down to the ground as the seniors worked in silence, keeping their heads low; giant bugs were already prowling outside, and the screech of their talons sent shivers down her spine. She held herself together, though. She couldn¡¯t look afraid in front of the children. Tentatively, they reached for the waterskins and the small loaf of bread Amula tore in half for them, and Dahlia watched as they scarfed down their meals¡ªtheir eyes, if nothing else, were brimming with the light of finally getting something into their stomachs. A small relief, a tremendous joy. Dahlia felt she knew a little bit about hunger. There were entire weeks in the past two years of her life, too, when she¡¯d go without food because she couldn¡¯t make enough coins selling her trinkets off in the Bazaar. She may have been fortunate these past two days that Issam was here to cook for her, but¡­ she felt she could still recall the sensation of hunger, after all. So she reached into her pocket and handed them a piece of bloodberry candy each, gulping loudly. ¡°It¡¯s¡­ sweet,¡± she said. ¡°Do you¡­ want them?¡± She didn¡¯t even need to ask. They snatched the candies with their mouths, nearly chomping her fingers off, and she reeled back into Amula¡¯s legs. Their desperation surprised her, but only for a moment¡ªin the next, she found herself breathing a soft sigh of relief seeing their faces lighten up a little. And though she still had more candies where they came, the children suddenly wiped their mouths with their sleeves, pointing at the back of the building where a small, small firefly latern shone on the ground next to a giant scorpion carcass. ¡­ The four of them followed their fingers, and Dahlia¡¯s breath froze. Her bristles tingled. A man sat on the dead scorpion, back turned towards them. ¡°... Something¡¯s wrong,¡± the children whispered. ¡°Help daddy.¡± Chapter 19 - Deathbed ¡°... What are you doing, papa?¡± Little Dahlia is pushed out and forced to sit on the chair in the Perana Household¡¯s living room. She isn¡¯t allowed into the bedroom. She hears people sobbing, she hears children crying, she sees, through the tiniest gap in the door, her father putting on a strange mask on the old grandfather¡¯s face. She wonders what her father is doing when he layers more and more pieces of metal over the old grandfather¡¯s body¡ªsix extra legs behind him, spindly antennae over his forehead, two claws on each of his pinkies and a piece of chitin shaped in the form of a pretty chestplate. The dressing-up is complete, her father leaves the room. The Perana Household continues to sob as he takes little Dahlia out of the house. As they walk, little Dahlia asks her father what he was doing in the house again. ¡°It¡¯s called the ¡®Almat Alsu Deathbed¡¯, and it is something every doctor in Alshifa learns before they are recognised as a man of life,¡± he explains, as his eyes stare out into the night. The firefly posts are unlit, they are trudging blindly through the dark. They can see perfectly all the same. ¡°For a bug-slayer who was strong and loyal to their cause, we send them away from this world clad in the flesh of their mortal enemies; that man was the old principal of the Bug-Slaying School, and he had slain a giant, giant butterfly fifty years ago.¡± Her father pauses for a moment. ¡°So, he wears the skin of his prey,¡± he says plainly, looking down at Dahlia. ¡°Do you think it¡¯s a disgusting tradition?¡± Little Dahlia thinks. She smiles. But she doesn¡¯t answer. Her father nods and smiles in return ¡°That¡¯s what I thought as well,¡± he says. ¡°Now why don¡¯t we stop by the sweet¡¯s store for a second? You can pick whatever you want, but don¡¯t tell mama.¡± ¡°Sweets! I want bloodberry! Bloodberry!¡± ¡°Alright, alright. How¡¯s a hundred-pack bloodberry candy bag sound to you?¡± - Scene from Perana Household past
¡°... Something¡¯s wrong,¡± the children whispered. ¡°Help daddy.¡±¡­ [Dahlia.] [It might not be wise¨C] I¡¯m going. Despite Eria¡¯s warning, she rose to her feet and left the kids to Amula and Jerie, her heart pounding in her chest from fear as much as reluctance. She knew she probably shouldn¡¯t check, but every fibre of her burned, even her bones¡ªshe wasn¡¯t a brave girl. She wasn¡¯t a strong girl. It pained her to admit it, but there was little she could offer in a fight compared to her friends. There wasn¡¯t much she could confidently say she was ¡®good¡¯ at, but still she carried the blood of a doctor in her veins, and when faced with a desperate plea for help¡­ there was just no way she could look elsewhere. Though, it wasn¡¯t as though she couldn¡¯t tell already. Raya and Amula and Jerie weren¡¯t moving to support her for a reason, after all. Slowly, steadily, she left the range of Jerie¡¯s lanternfly light and neared the idle man. The air was significantly warmer around the scorpion''s carcass. It was a giant bug to awe at, pincers so heavy they sank halfway through the wooden floorboards, and its tail so long that even after its death, it pierced through the ceiling and kept the bug relatively upright. The man was sitting dead centre upon its carapace. His arms were on his knees, his head lolled down as though he were panting for breath, but¡­ she heard no breaths. Felt no blood coursing through his veins. He may appear as though he was simply resting after a hard-fought battle against the scorpion from behind, yes, but when she swallowed a gulp and gently pulled his shoulders back¡ªthe half-eaten face of the man almost made her bite her tongue off for how quickly and suddenly he fell over. [Dahlia!] As she gasped for breath, she noticed something crawling beneath his bloody and battered skin. Maggots. A shudder of animalistic fear rippled up her spine as it happened; she doubled over and vomited the black and brown sludges of the morning¡¯s breakfast. She could smell sour air and she wanted to puke again. Just looking at the man with the half-eaten face was enough to make her eyes burn, but she simply couldn¡¯t look away¡ªthe broken dragonfly goggles hanging off the side of his head didn¡¯t mislead her, and the signature black and gold shawl around his shoulders was a symbol of an esteemed, well-lived Instructor of the Bug-Slaying School. ¡­ Instructor Biem. The longer she looked, the more details she could pick out; his skin didn¡¯t have a human¡¯s comfortable glow; his bones hung helplessly out his broken limbs, his knuckles particularly broken, particularly disfigured; no blood came out of the gruesome slash wounds across his torso, but there were more maggots and botflies wherever she looked. The absence of life in who she considered was once the harshest man in the undertown made her feel sick to her stomach, but, even still¡­ [He killed the giant scorpion with nothing but his bare hands, and still he sat for two days straight.] [He must have been one of the strongest bug-slayers in Alshifa.] Eria wasn¡¯t wrong. Instructor Biem may not be her dad, but he was still her instructor, from the first year to the very last. He deserved a prettier ending. Eria. [What is it?] She closed her eyes, inhaled deeply, and pulled out her scalpel. Can you¡­ can you say ¡®tick tock¡¯ for me sixty times? [... Tick, tock.] Images formed in her mind¡ªmemories of someone breathing their last on their deathbed¡ªand she opened her eyes. Her hands were already moving. Her free hand went to wrench clumps of maggots out Instructor Biem¡¯s face, her chisel tracing the steel thread along the scorpion¡¯s carapace. The beating in her chest became background noise, easy to ignore; she wiped blood off the good man¡¯s skin with her mantle while cutting the scorpion apart with her other hand, shuffling over to its giant pincers. If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. In the brief few moments she wasn¡¯t covering him with her body, she heard Amula and Jerie moving in front of the children so they wouldn¡¯t see their father in such a dreary state. [Tick, tock.] Just below the dead eyes, above the mouthparts, the scorpion¡¯s pincers were composed of one movable finger and one fixed finger. For how many times Instructor Biem had told her to be more creative in training and to utilise more unpredictable fighting strategies, she removed the movable fingers with a clean cut of her chisel. For how many times he¡¯d shouted at her to use her legs to run, to not just stand and freeze in the face of a superior opponent, she removed all six legs from the scorpion and kicked them off to the side. For how many times he¡¯d roared at her to keep her face steady, to erase fear from her catalogue of expressions, she stared the scorpion in its eyes and removed its carapace overhead¡ªprying it off with one foot placed on its fangs. The solid chunk of chitin ripped with a slimy tear, but she cleaned slime off each of the parts with her mantle and quickly whirled back over to look at the man himself. She didn¡¯t shy away. She measured his dimensions from head to toe, her fingers twitching as they itched to begin their work. [Tick, tock.] Twenty seconds. Time felt slower as she zoned in. She felt like dust was falling slower, her thoughts were racing faster; it wasn¡¯t the steel thread, but she saw how to arrange the pieces. She knew how to give Instructor Biem a proper sendoff. Her vision blurred as she refused the urge to blink for the umpteenth time, kneeling and rising, looking and not looking, clasping each scorpion part in place before moving onto the next. She felt she heard his children whispering something behind her, asking Amula what she was doing, and for her part Amula didn¡¯t answer. It was more than likely all of them were just as confused, and¡­ could she really blame them? She saw the path to giving him a ¡®proper¡¯ sendoff, but maybe it wasn¡¯t the right path. Maybe she was desecrating his body. Maybe she¡¯d finished making what she was trying to make and his children would end up screaming, running away from him in fear¡ªbut now her face was twisted in a dark, ugly expression, and she couldn¡¯t stop herself even if she wanted to. [Tick, tock.] If she could¡¯ve had her way, she would¡¯ve done the same for the bug trader. [Tick, tock.] For the old vagrant who¡¯d always handed her a piece of candy. [Tick, tock.] For the countless fallen townsfolk who she¡¯d ignored on her hardheaded journey across Alshifa just to get to her dad. [Tick, tock.] And if she could¡¯ve had her way¡­ if she¡¯d fought her dad two years ago, if she¡¯d yelled at him, if she¡¯d kicked him and screamed at him and forced him to dress his final patient up for their deathbed as well, she would¡¯ve¨C [What¡­ is this?] Eria¡¯s legs started quivering atop her shoulder, and if the little black bug could actually show any emotion other than ¡®satisfied¡¯ and ¡®dissatisfied¡¯, she would think Eria was trying not to cry. She was trying not to, too. [Dahlia¡­ what¡­] [This memory¡­] [This bed¡­ this death¡­] [Who¡­] [...is Eria?] ¡­ Tick, tock. She didn¡¯t need to hear Eria say it. Her one minute was up, her breath could no longer be held, and it was like invisible chains unwound from her hands to finally free her from her one-girl puppet show; Jerie caught her before she could stumble into a wooden beam and trip over backwards. Her knees were a bit weak, her chisel dangling loosely in her left hand¡ªshe muttered ¡®tell them to come¡¯, and Amula was initially hesitant. Refusing to bring the children over. But then she must¡¯ve done something, or looked at Amula with a particular light in her eyes, because suddenly the older girl shuddered and rose to her feet, gently pulling the children along with her. Raya stayed at the back of the room, staring out the hole in the wall. Jerie propped her upright, her trembling fingers struggling to slip her chisel back into her sleeve. And when Amula nudged the children far enough forward and they could finally see their father¡ªfor the final time in their lives¡ªshe felt as though their cries and wailing sobs were not half as sad as they otherwise would¡¯ve been. After all, with six serrated legs fanning out from under his back, two chitin-plated arms ending in mighty pincers, and a wicked scorpion shell covering his face like the Swarmsteel masks of legend, she was most sure their father had never looked cooler and more dignified before. In life, she knew him as the harshest Instructor in all of Alshifa. In death, she¡¯d dressed him as the strongest bug-slayer in all of Alshifa. And his children would remember his final moments not as someone mutilated by a giant bug, but as someone who did the mutilation, and ripped the giant bug¡¯s skin to wear it over his own. There could be no prettier death. There could be no better death. This was the sendoff she wished she could give to everyone. ¡­ A heavy weight in her heart lifted slightly, as she continued listening to the children sob over their father¡¯s corpse. She felt it was good, in the end, that they got to see him looking the best he ever could. ¡°... What do we do with them?¡± Raya said, unusually quiet as he leaned against the back of the room with his spear resting on his shoulders. ¡°The bugs outside are gone. We can send them over to the shelter alone, but I doubt they¡¯ll make it past the first street without getting caught by something¨C¡± ¡°N-No,¡± the older sister said, rubbing her eyes, choking and sobbing in between breaths, but still she was stronger than Dahlia had been¡ªlooking Raya in the eye and nodding slowly once. ¡°We¡­ we can go there ourselves. We know the shelter. It¡¯s¡­ down, right? Next to the big tunnel?¡± ¡°We¡¯ll go with ye,¡± Amula said in a small, soothing voice, as she hunched over to smile at the two of them. ¡°Don¡¯t go by yerselves. It¡¯s a long journey. There¡¯ll be tons of bugs on the way, so just stick close to us and¨C¡± The older sister shook her head, sniffling hard. ¡°No. We know¡­ secret tunnels. Underground. Only we can crawl there, be-because we¡¯re small. We can go by ourselves.¡± ¡°Tunnels? It won¡¯t be safe regardless. Just come with big sis. I¡¯ll take ye¨C¡± ¡°The kids want to go by themselves, so let them go,¡± Raya said, holding up his spear to block Amula from nudging the children out the hole before glaring at them himself. ¡°You¡¯re talking about the secret tunnel that runs beneath the house next door, right? The one that goes from here all the way to the building next to the shelter?¡± The younger brother widened his eyes, and the older sister sniffled again. ¡°How do you know that¡­ mister¡­ um¨C¡± ¡°I dug that hole when I was your age so I could sneak into the shelter and steal their bread every five days. Now go. Don¡¯t ever make a left turn or you¡¯ll fall deep into the sewers. I heard kids used to fall into my tunnels and get lost for days.¡± ¡°A-And what happens if we¡­ get lost?¡± ¡°You die like losers. Now get lost.¡± He whacked their heads lightly with the butt of his spear and sent them scampering out the building, the siblings holding each others¡¯ hands all the way. Amula¡¯s eye twitched, and she most likely would¡¯ve blown up on Raya had Jerie not stepped in between them with his flute playing a calming tune, as though telling them not to make more of a ruckus than they already had. ¡°... Tch.¡± Amula clicked her tongue. At least she had enough sense left in her to walk away from the two of them to cool off, but when her head swivelled slowly about the room and eventually landed on Dahlia¡¯s eyes¡ªthere was a strange, strange expression coming from her. One that Dahlia had never seen before. The peculiar softness in her face, the longing look she casted at Instructor Biem before whirling away¡­ was it ¡®sadness¡¯ directed at Instructor Biem, or was it ¡®gratitude¡¯ directed at Dahlia? Did the older girl approve of what she¡¯d done, dressing their Instructor up in the parts of the scorpion he¡¯d given his life to slay? ¡­ In the end, the topic never really came up. An hour of stewing in the heavy silence later, resting their legs, all of them got up to carry through with the final stretch of their journey. The little detour had cost them more time than Dahlia had thought, and now sunlight was about to fade, the Swarm about to awaken¡ªher house wasn¡¯t that far away. She¡¯d get there in another hour. ¡­ Did you know that if a man dies with a bunch of Swarmsteel on his body, maggots and botflies wouldn¡¯t dare to approach him, and as such decomposition wouldn''t happen for a much, much longer period? Eria was unmoving as it answered her question. [I am aware.] Do you know why that happens? [Because smaller bugs fear stronger bugs, and Swarmsteel are stronger bugs.] Oh. I see. So that¡¯s why the tradition of dressing bug-slayers up with Swarmsteel on their deathbeds is a tradition. [...] Her name was Eria, by the way. [... Eria?] My mom. The last patient my dad ever treated, and the first one he ever killed. Chapter 20 - The Road to Home Nightfall. Sunlight waning, moonlight rising. Dahlia, Raya, Amula, and Jerie departed from the Northern Bridge Street where they¡¯d sent Instructor Biem¡¯s children off, and another half hour later, they arrived at the final stretch of land before they could reach the house at the northernmost end of town. Her bracers squeezed tightly down on her forearms and she winced, quietly¡ªshe didn¡¯t really even need her bristles to know something was immediately wrong with Northern Old District. The Old District may be nicknamed the ¡®ghost district¡¯ for how few people lived here now¡ªowing to the opening of the Southern New District right below the Bug-Slaying School a decade ago¡ªbut it was never particularly motionless. Vagrants made their camp here, their constant hubbub as they chatted over crackling bonfires would fill the air with hearty chuckles and columns of wispy smoke trails. In the dilapidated buildings overgrown with wild flora and walls of impenetrable vines, swallows and sparrows would buzz all day long, all night long. Tiny bugs would rustle the withered leaves with their piercing legs, and occasionally she''d hear a stray hound crunching down on the hard shell of an unfortunate beetle. Sometimes she¡¯d even hear Instructors training younger students here and making them root out critter insect dens, which was ninety percent of an Alshifa bug-slayers¡¯ daily work. It wasn¡¯t always training to fight giant insects. It¡¯d never been soundless here, and it¡¯d never been lifeless here. Now, it was different. Pushing slowly through the maze-like greenery sprouting from gaps between the broken cobblestone tiles, Dahlia scratched her bracers and chewed her lips as she passed the signature landmarks; there was the barrel of burning coals in the small alley to her left where the vagrants always gathered at the end of the week; there was the two-storey building to her right that''d collapsed over three decades ago because termites ate through the supporting wooden beams; there were haphazard sewer grates on the ground everywhere, because the children of the Old District loved jumping into the underground and never listened to anyone telling them to put the grates back where they belonged. She''d fallen into muddy waters more than a few times on her way home from school because she wasn''t paying attention to where she stepped¡ªbut it''d be quite impossible for her to accidentally fall into any hole right now. What happened here? [... Carnage.] [What else could it be?] The Old District was a disaster area. Giant beetle carcasses were strewn everywhere on her left, elytras half-opened, massive horns crushing multiple metal shacks at once. Webs of black, viscous slime were stuck on the building on her right, alongside a dozen hornet carcasses torn to shreds and decorating the windowsills with their severed heads. Where Dahlia placed her feet, there were two dozen¨C no, more like fifty medium-sized ladybugs crushed into balls and dumped into the sewers, their bodies so horribly disfigured some of their legs stuck out from the sewer grates like wads of ingrown hair jutting out from human skin. There were more insect parts scattered everywhere, but it was impossible to tell just how many giant insects had perished here¡­ and while she¡¯d managed to keep her cool for most of the journey, she couldn¡¯t help but accelerate faster, faster, faster¡ªforcing Raya, Amula, and Jerie to practically run after her as she pushed through the maze-like shrubs. [They are hurting you,] Eria said, appearing and tapping on her bracers as she kept on scratching them. The itches just wouldn¡¯t go away. [This is ¡®strain¡¯, Dahlia. A normal human cannot equip too many Swarmsteel at once without enduring difficult side effects. The only way to offset this is by increasing your strain limit and the quick way to obtain lots of free points is to¨C] ¡°You know I can''t do that." [You are currently equipping the cave cricket bracers, the pine sawyer beetle chestplate, and the robber fly mantle at the same time. Nearly half of your maximum strain limit is currently being occupied by Swarmsteel. If it continues to rise, your Swarmsteel would slowly eat away at your body and decrease your lifespan. Perhaps you should try eating insect flesh again¨C] ¡°It''s fine. I''ll just... I''ll just get stronger by making and equipping Swarmsteel¨C" ¡°Yer going insane talking to yer mental worm friend out loud.¡± Amula kicked her knees from behind her, not too hard, but enough to get her to slow down and stumble forward into a tree. Her bracers slammed against the bark and suddenly it was like a medicine had been injected into her veins; her forearms stopped itching immediately. While Raya thrust his spear five times to stop any pinecones from falling onto her head, Amula clapped both hands onto her cheeks and stared straight into her eyes. The older girl¡¯s eyes weren¡¯t spinning. She was sure hers were. It was a little embarrassing being forced to make eye contact with someone else at such a close distance, so she tried to squirm out of it, muttering and mumbling ¡®she was fine¡¯ or something of the sort¡ªbut Amula¡¯s hands didn¡¯t give, and eventually the only thing she could do was let out the breath she didn¡¯t know she¡¯d been holding. Surprisingly, that¡­ made her shoulders feel a bit less heavy, too. Her beetle chestplate stopped squeezing down on her chest so much, her fly mantle stopped pricking the skin around her neck so much. Amula let go of her once she started breathing properly, and this time the seniors took the lead, Raya flicking his spear left and right to clear the foliage in front of them. No more following Dahlia through the maze-like flora of the Old District; they were going to cut their way straight through, and she was going to be the one to follow. ¡­ She bit her tongue and started walking behind them, her forearms starting to itch again. ¡°... There¡¯s gotta be at least sixty or seventy dead giant insects here,¡± Amula muttered, kicking a squashed ladybug out of the way as Jerie kept both hands on his flute, ready to lift and play at a moment¡¯s notice. ¡°Ye came through here before, Raya? Ye did this?¡± Raya didn¡¯t turn around to address her. ¡°No. I was in the south killing smaller giant insects when that lightning hornet fell. Never left the south.¡± ¡°Then who could¡¯ve done this? The guards? The graduate bug-slayers?¡± ¡°They all died on the first day to that lightning hornet. I was there.¡± The four of them stopped next to a giant spider carcass; it might¡¯ve been ten times their size, but its legs were broken, its froths of black pus was leaking out its abdomen, and its own talons were ripped out and stabbed into each of its eight eyes. Jerie stiffened a little as Amula glanced at Dahlia, so she obliged and tentatively strode forward, tracing her finger along the giant slash wounds across the top of its carapace¡ªthey were all clean cut, done by a sharp and precise blade. Maybe five blades. Maybe five claws all at once, judging by the cleave marks that extended past the spider and ripped into the ground below them. Was there any bug-slayer in Alshifa who used claws as their Swarmsteel? ¡°Ask yer little worm friend,¡± Amula said, standing next to Dahlia as she grimaced down at the claw marks herself. ¡°For yer reference, nobody in Alshifa could¡¯ve done this. These death marks are¡­ feral. Its legs look like they¡¯ve been tossed down from somewhere really high up, and the other corpses are about the same. They don¡¯t look like they died here. Someone killed them with claws in another place, then tossed them down here where their guts splattered across the district.¡± Eria scratched its head with one of its little legs. [She is correct. While the claw marks are quite peculiar, the way these carcasses are sprawled out across the district appear as though they had been thrown long distances and only ended up landing here by chance. If we had not been paying close attention to it the past two days, my first guess would be that someone from the surface is tossing bug carcasses down the hole in the ceiling.] Dahlia repeated Eria¡¯s answer word for word, and the scowl on Amula¡¯s face was magnified even further. ¡°So whoever or whatever killed these giant insects are still here in Alshifa,¡± Amula said. This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. [Most likely, yes.] ¡°Do giant insects fight and kill each other, then?¡± [They do over territorial disputes, but a carnage of this level resulting in an entire district being uninhabited is¡­ it is Mutant behaviour.] Dahlia frowned at the last part. ¡°Mutant behaviour? The bug trader¡­ before he died, the bug trader said something about Mutants¨C¡± [Yes,] Eria said firmly, and Dahlia stopped talking to start repeating its comments for everyone to hear again. [The lightning hornet that descended into your undertown is known as a ¡®Mutant'', and they are called as such because they are not like your usual giant insects. They possess humanlike appearances, higher intelligence, eerie capabilities to regenerate and reproduce, and the abilities of their normal variants amplified tenfold. Do you think a normal giant oriental hornet would be able to throw actual, physical lightning bolts at you?] ¡°Yes,¡± Raya said, thumbing at the lightning scar on his back. ¡°We¡¯ve been shot at twice already,¡± Amula said pointedly. ¡°Thweep!¡± Jerie blew. [... No. Normal oriental hornets are incapable of generating electrical potential to such massive degrees. That is why the hornet that has fallen into your undertown is a Mutant¡ªan insect that defies all common logic and does not behave in the way humanity knows its kind to behave.] [With that said, I do not believe there is a second Mutant in Alshifa, nor is it a Mutant that even slaughtered the insects in this district in the first place.] Amula narrowed her eyes. ¡°And why not? If these Mutants are the Swarm¡¯s strongest insects, then why wouldn¡¯t they just send multiple down to instantly annihilate us?¡± [Because each individual Mutant gives off a unique ¡®scent¡¯, and this scent marks its territory that other Mutants are usually quite unwilling to approach,] Eria explained. [Mutants do not typically work together. This is a well-known and documented fact on the surface. When two Mutants encroach on each other¡¯s territory, they will fight until there is only one left, but the fact that the lightning hornet is still just sitting there in the Bazaar implies there is no other Mutant in Alshifa right now.] Raya shrugged. ¡°Makes sense. I think I can smell it, too.¡± [... You smell it?] ¡°That half-sweet, half-oily scent in the air, right?¡± he said, tilting his head up as he took a sharp whiff of the air, eyes closed. ¡°If it¡¯s also like a pheromone that acts as a strength marker, then it makes sense why it¡¯s just sitting there not doing anything. It¡¯s the leader, and the rest of the Swarm are its lackeys. The weak obey the strong. It knows it¡¯s the strongest in Alshifa, so it won¡¯t bother moving until it really has to.¡± [Interesting.] [And you do not smell another distinct scent in the air, yes?] ¡°I don¡¯t.¡± [Then whoever or whatever did this is not a Mutant,] Eria said, shaking its head. [And I suspect, as we continue onwards, we will come face to face with the person who did this soon enough.] [Is that not right, Dahlia?] ¡­ She didn¡¯t repeat that last part out loud. Some time ago, somewhere along the way, Eria must¡¯ve gained access to the deeper ¡®pools¡¯ of her memories, but the fact that she still hadn¡¯t been assigned her insect class meant Eria didn¡¯t have access to all of her memories¡ªand that was a distance she wanted to maintain no matter what. So she didn¡¯t speak. She didn¡¯t finish Eria¡¯s sentence. Head lowered, arms itching, she turned away from the giant spider and continued on to the base of the northernmost hill in Alshifa. Neither Raya, Amula, nor Jerie questioned why she was being so quiet. The rusty metal stairs built straight up the vertical cliffs were right there in front of them, and they were fearless as they climbed to the very top of the hill. Nobody stopped her from taking the lead. Nobody walked in front of her, so they couldn¡¯t see her fidgeting fingers and trembling lips and hollowing cheeks¡ªperhaps it was all for the better they thought she¡¯d grown stronger and more confident since the first time they met five years ago. But she was also sure they could tell by the time they reached the top of the hill, and moonlight was already shining brightly down upon Alshifa. The front door to her dinghy one-field, one well cabin was swung wide open, and her stomach clenched painfully as she spotted the dried trails of blood leading into the house. ¡°... I want to go in alone,¡± she whispered, nails digging into her arms, blood drawn from her chewed lips and tasting bitter on the tip of her tongue. ¡°I won¡¯t be long. Promise. Just give me¡­ a bit of time, okay?¡± Raya and the seniors knew well enough not to respond, so, with her heart pounding in her ears, she stepped into her house on her tiptoes. She avoided walking on the trail on blood, but the stench was immediately apparent when she entered the living room; repugnant flesh and chitin were strewn about the mounds of unwashed fabric, the window frames clung to by severed legs and punctured eyeballs; two giant ants were smashed together by their skulls and buried halfway through the broken floorboards, through the eroded ground; if there was any question as to who might¡¯ve killed the giant insects and tossed them into the Old District down below, she didn¡¯t have to look any further. While she might¡¯ve preferred sleeping on her chair in the bedroom, her dad was¡­ Sitting upright on the old sofa. His head was low, his body was shrouded in shadows. She couldn¡¯t see his face, couldn¡¯t hear his breathing. His messy grey hair fell over his eyes, he¡¯d not changed out of his black mourning clothes since the day he buried her mother. His hands were no longer human, replaced instead by monstrous Swarmsteel gauntlets that came right out of a nightmare¡ªfive black insect claws sprouting from each finger, clicking softly against one another like surgical claws, each sharp as a scalpel. For the briefest of seconds, she froze at the doorway; she remembered how Instructor Biem had died with dignity, his body sitting upright even after his death by sheer force of will. A part of her couldn¡¯t accept the fact her dad may already have perished, but then there was sound. Movement. A single amber eye opened and glared at her, shining bright like the sun, and¡­ there was this unsettling calmness emanating from him that sent chills down her spine. A sinking feeling when her gaze met his. For whatever reason, her mind initially refused to accept the man as her own flesh and blood, but beyond the Swarmsteel claws and the bloody chunks that lay before his feet, that haggard and bony shape of his face was undeniably hers as well. A single, cold breath escaped his lips as he exhaled, and Eria must¡¯ve said something in her head¡ªa warning, a call for caution¡ªbut whatever it was, she didn¡¯t hear it. She tuned it out. Her feet moved before her head could think more clearly about the situation, and she immediately tripped over a torn-off insect leg on the floor, stumbling a half-step. He¡¯s alive. Thank the Great Makers. He¡¯s alive. ¡°You¡­ you¡¯re hungry, right?¡± she stammered, recovering from the stumble as she slung her satchel off her back, hands trembling, rummaging through it for the bread she¡¯d prepared for him. ¡°The sallet I made two days ago¡­ it¡¯s still just sitting there, huh? Understandable. It¡¯s not¡­ my best¡­ so I bought some bread for you. They¡¯re still kinda fresh from the shelter, so once we eat we should¨C¡± ¡°Leave this place,¡± he rasped, his second amber eye opening, and it was only now that she noticed his irises were vertical slits. ¡°Leave¡­ this place.¡± ¡°... No,¡± she said, gritting her teeth as she held a bread in one hand and a waterskin in the other, pushing slowly but steadily forward. ¡°Everyone¡¯s at the shelter. We have to go there. Necessary. If we don¡¯t, we¡¯ll eventually run out of food and water, and then¨C¡± She got close enough. Three steps before him. Then, he struck. It was a blur, and maybe she should¡¯ve expected it coming, but she didn¡¯t¡ªfive black insect claws flew up at her face, and it was only now that she realised they weren¡¯t his Swarmsteel gauntlets at all. They were like the surgical claws he¡¯d made just years prior, but not quite. She was completely blindsided when his real insect claws tore up her left cheek and ripped into her face, half her vision going red instantly. [... Dahlia!] [Leave! Now!] She fell with a scream, flailing as her dad rose from his sofa, bones creaking, claws clinking. The beginnings of adrenaline flooding into her veins numbed her pain, but even as she shuffled backwards with her heart beating faster than ever before, she saw, with painful clarity, the parts of his body where moonlight fell onto¡ªhard black shells scabbed over patches of his body, creeping across half his face and his entire right arm. His knees were bent at odd angles, muscles rippling and warbling awkwardly under his skin. Two black wings with bright golden stripes hung behind his shoulder blades. A single elongated needle was his tongue, hanging out his mouth and dripping with venom that sizzled as the droplets hit the floor. His proportions were even more wildly deformed; she didn¡¯t remember him being two metres tall, or his shoulders being so broad, or his neck being so stretched and his hair being so shiny with oil. If anything, she remembered someone else who had his exact same appearance right now. The humanoid form of the black teardrop-shaped bug in her nightmares. The humanoid form of the little black bug Eria was controlling. The vilest, most deplorable true bug of them all. ¡°... Leave¡­ this¡­ place,¡± her dad rasped. ¡°Leave¡­ now.¡± Chapter 21 - The Father Final Journal entry #8888 Year 98 since the Swarm descended and our great ancestors retreated into the undertown. Today, Eria died. It happened late at night. There were plenty of warning signs. If I¡¯d paid more attention I¡¯d have noticed she¡¯d been sneaking out of bed every night to tear through the garbage, ripping apart every little insect she could get her claws on¡­ I can¡¯t say I don¡¯t feel the same urge sometimes. There¡¯s nothing like the rush of blood I get from putting a living bug in my mouth, and the energy I get from it, the shivers that run through my body whenever I deprive myself of it iiiiiiiiiiiii There were warning signs. I didn¡¯t see them. I told her I told her that we could only eat one small insect every single month, and we¡¯ll do it together so we know we aren¡¯t eating more than we should, but that was stupid. I could¡¯ve easily done what she¡¯d been doing and snuck a quick grasshopper for myself whenever I¡¯m out at work. If I really wanted to stop her I should¡¯ve chained her to the bed and coated the entire house in insect repellent extracts, but It happened late at night. There were plenty of warning signs. If I¡¯d It happened late at night. Just two hours ago. She woke up in the middle of the night with Dahlia sleeping between the two of us, her neck the first bone to snap as her skin stretched and sagged, black chitin plates infesting her face and mutating her eyes. I immediately tossed Dahlia out of the room, locked the door behind me, and I The door banged. Dahlia was screaming, asking what¡¯s going on. Eria charged me with ten black claws for fingers, her eyes vertical slits, her hair falling out and replacing with bony chitin spikes. She didn¡¯t get very far on her first charge. The moment she rolled off the bed her knees snapped and she cried, but then two more arms flew out her spine and I was afraid I raced for the chains I¡¯d been keeping in the closet. Her new arms knocked her forward and she tackled me before I could grab the chains. I think I I roared at her to stop, and to come back to her senses. She¡¯d been hiding her mutations so, so well these past few years. She¡¯d quit her job so the townsfolk wouldn¡¯t notice her getting frailer. She¡¯d only talked to Dahlia while sitting on the bed, blankets wrapped around her claws. She¡¯d worn her shawl over her jaw so nobody could ever, ever, ever see her hardening face, and this was how she was going to let it end? Like some feral mutt, saliva sleazing from her needle of a tongue as she tried to drain my brain from my skull? I PROMISED HER. I SAID I WILL FIND A CURE, SO I Dahlia broke into the room halfway through our tussle and saw everything. Eria immediately went for our daughter, so I¡­ I remembered the Swarmsteel claws I¡¯d made¡ªthe surgical scalpel claws. I didn¡¯t make them for the Bug-Slaying School. I made them so Eria could wear them and hide her real insect claws from the rest of Alshifa, so maybe, one day, she¡¯d be able to walk outside without fear of anyone realising her mutation. But when I saw her flying at Dahlia, her needle for a tongue poised to take out at least an eye or two, I panicked. I donned my claws and stabbed her through the back, kicking Dahlia out the door as I did. Black blood sprayed and splattered onto my face, and it was just the sweetest thing I¡¯d ever tasted, the most intoxicating drink I could ever have; I kicked Dahlia harder than I should¡¯ve. In the face. I broke her nose. I realised it the moment my feet landed, but as long as she was out the door I could slam it shut again Eight minutes of screeching, screaming, and slashing. Something important might¡¯ve happened in those eight minutes, but I don¡¯t¡­ remember much of it. By the time Dahlia crawled in through the window, the bedroom was a mess of flesh and chitin, blood and bones¡ªI¡¯m sure the world Dahlia saw must¡¯ve been very, very different from the world I saw, but I don¡¯t remember what I said to her, either. What could I say, standing over her mother¡¯s eviscerated, mutilated body? ¡­ Dahlia tried to approach Eria while I was still heaving for breath, bleeding from every orifice, so I panicked again and hit her. No. I know it wasn¡¯t right. But if she were to get any closer to the two of us she might accidentally trip, fall, and absorb some of our cursed blood. I can¡¯t let that hpppan( I won¡¯t let that happen. So I locked Dahlia in the closet and buried Eria myself, not even giving my wife the bug-hunter¡¯s deathbed dressing. I can¡¯t. I couldn¡¯t. I think I¡­ I ate some of Eria¡¯s flesh during the fight, because I still can¡¯t pry my Swarmsteel claws off my fingers. They¡¯re stuck. I won¡¯t last much longer myself. I¡¯ll have to make up a lie, tell the townsfolk Eria died suddenly of a contagious malady, so I had no other option but to bury her quickly. They¡¯ll believe me. I¡¯m not too far gone yet. My face is still mostly intact and only my claws stand out. I¡¯m the genius doctor, the youngest in Alshifa¡¯s history. I¡¯ll convince Dahlia has to forget, too. She can¡¯t talk about this. I told her, through the closet, that it was all just a nightmare and she¡¯d wake up tomorrow with everything just alright. What a terrible lie. It doesn¡¯t even make sense. I¡¯ll let her out tomorrow morning and what¡¯s she going to do? She¡¯ll ask questions. She¡¯ll tell everyone. What¡¯ll happen then? Will they dig up my wife¡¯s corpse to study her? Will they kill me in the process? Will they suspect Dahlia and drag her into this mess? No. Nobody can know. I won¡¯t last much longer myself, but¡­ if Dahlia can graduate from the Bug-Slaying School and find a job that¡¯ll make her leave Alshifa, she can forget everything that''s happened here. She¡¯ll never have to come back here to the house of her nightmares. Only after that can I throw myself off a cliff, and then nobody will ever know what happened to Sanyon, the hermit, useless doctor. I need to turn people away before that. Nobody can visit me, nobody can think I have any saving grace. I must put up a temper. I must spit in the face of every helping hand without letting them see my mutating face. I must be the useless doctor who took the death of his wife too hard and refuses to work henceforth. They must slowly lose their pity for me. Dahlia has to hate me, too, if I want her to leave Alshifa behind and never come back to investigate just what happened to me and Eria. How many more years until Dahlia graduates? Two? A household consisting of an outsider of a wife who died of a mysterious illness, a useless husband who hasn¡¯t worked or stepped outside in the last two years of his life before he disappeared, and a daughter who has abandoned everything for a new life in another undertown, unable to be contacted¡ªI¡¯m sure we¡¯ll all be wiped from the Alshifa Records soon enough, and nobody will bother to investigate what really happened here. This is a good plan. ¡­ Two years. Just two more years, and this curse will die with me. Now, I must make sure Dahlia hates her father and wants nothing more to do with him. - Excerpt from ¡®Secret Sina Household Journalinal Entry¡¯, Written by Sanyon Sina
¡­ Her dad rose on two crooked insect legs, and Dahlia froze with one hand clamped over her bleeding left eye. She couldn''t make herself blink. She couldn''t make herself stand. It wasn''t just fear that shot through her as her dad rasped something incomprehensible. It wasn''t just terror that clouded her judgement as he drew closer, spine so hunched his elongated claws screeched against the floorboards. Her body thrummed with nervous energy that clawed up the back of her throat, trying to escape as words she could say to bring him back to his senses, but they all died on the tip of her tongue without a sliver of confidence behind them¡ªwhat ¡®strength¡¯ she''d managed to muster by walking into her house alone evaporated the instant she recognized that black bug form of his. This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report. A ¡®true¡¯ bug. And she knew why he looked like this. She¡¯d known for two years that he looked like this, and having slaughtered and eaten a horde of giant insects who¡¯d come his way the past day must¡¯ve made his mutations appear even more prominent. But, somewhere in the back of her head, she¡¯d always thought he¡¯d eventually recover¡­ and then she could believe it was all just a horrible, horrible nightmare. ¡­ This was no nightmare. This was real. He lunged for her head with a guttural screech, and Amula surged through the front door at a speed she couldn''t follow, knee flying from ground to sky as she knocked him to the back of the living room. Raya cut through the wall on her left a half second later, stepping in calmly, while Jerie moved in another half second later with his flute already pressed to his lips. A sharp, ear-splintering wail screeched out of the instrument, and her dad''s chitin plates trembled as though they were trying to shake loose from his skin¡ªbut that wasn''t about to happen. Bloody tendons connected them to his body, his insect claws having devoured his fingers, and the cicada flute only made him scream and cower on his knees by the sofa. He wasn''t falling apart. He wasn''t dying or trying to run. Jerie grimaced and moved closer, attempting to knock him out with sheer volume and obnoxiousness with the flute¨C But that was their first mistake. Something slid from beneath her dad''s arm, stabbing forward on a few cracking joints, and Jerie would''ve been skewered through the stomach had Amula not pulled him back at the last second. The song stopped. Her dad clawed to his feet, teeth chattering as two extra insect arms exploded out from behind his waist, their bone-like talons every bit as sharp as his mutated claws. Amula yanked Jerie and Dahlia further back as Raya took another step forward, grimacing at her dad''s unnatural, bone-breaking stretches and contortions. Her dad was only just now warming up. [... Frenzy,] Eria whispered. [When a human consumes insect flesh without a system, they gain strength and abilities depending on the quality and quantity of the flesh they have consumed. In Altered Swarmsteel System terms, this is because insect flesh fundamentally alters the makeup of the human body by selectively mutating the muscles and organs related to the six basic attributes.] [However, if a human without a system consumes too much insect flesh too fast, or the quality of the insect flesh they have consumed is extremely poor, their body runs the risk of mutating into the form of the insect they have consumed the most.] [We call this the ¡®Frenzy¡¯ state.] [And, in this state, your father is no different from a¨C] Raya tapped his spear twice on the floorboards, making everyone except for her dad jolt in place. ¡°... Doctor Sanyon,¡± he said with a quiet, sombre voice, before dipping his head with one arm curled behind his back. ¡°You may not remember me, but you made my spear and crossbow long ago, when I used to climb up the cliffs every night to pester you for powerful Swarmsteel. ¡°I also injured myself a lot during training, and you never charged me a single coin for looking at my wounds. ¡°I¡­ ¡°... ¡°... I¡¯m grown up now. ¡°I don¡¯t like owing people favours. ¡°So I¡¯ll repay everything I owe you right here, right now.¡± Dahlia¡¯s bristles tingled with anxiousness. Amula and Jerie must¡¯ve sensed what was about to go down as well, because both of them dashed forward, fanning out on Raya¡¯s left and right as he stepped it for a straight thrust to her dad¡¯s chest¡ªa triple-pronged attack by the strongest students of the Bug-Slaying School. Against any giant insect, she was sure the attack would decimate without encountering even a shred of resistance, but her dad stood still. His two metre frame hulking, looming over all of them. Raya stepped into the shadow of his body cast by moonlight, and there was a small silver gleam as his claws ripped out something ball-shaped from the pocket of his mourning clothes; it was a ball Dahlia recognized all too well, a celebration toy that¡¯d normally do no harm to anyone whatsoever. But Dahlia herself had made it, a few months ago, when the bug trader had asked her to make something ¡®deadly¡¯ for once. She¡¯d not made anything like that ever since, but the one her dad held in his claws now was a prototype that was even more dangerous than the one she sold to the bug trader. Her body moved. She felt pain in her ankles as she kicked a piece of wood at the back of Raya¡¯s head, knocking him slightly off kilter. The moment he lost his balance, her dad crushed the bombardier beetle bomb in his claws. Flames erupted. Tiny nails flew in every conceivable direction, the flanking seniors forced to whirl mid-air and brace themselves with their capelets and mantles as the living room shattered like glass. Raya howled the exact same moment Dahlia curled herself into a ball, and all she could do was hope he hadn¡¯t been hit too hard by the Swarmsteel of her own making. Wooden beams fell from the ceiling, letting in colder moonlight, harsher winds. Still biting her lips, she forced herself to open her eyes and look through the smog¡ªher dad was still very much alive, limping towards her with half his face peeled off his head. ¡­ Dad. Raya scrambled to his feet, left ear missing, closing the distance between them in a flash. In another moment Amula jumped out from behind the table she¡¯d used as cover, and the two of them landed simultaneous thrusts and kicks; the honey bee spear caught in her dad¡¯s left claws, the bombardier beetle boot caught in his right. His body trembled, a low growl escaped his throat. In a single, smooth movement, he spun in a circle and his claws cleaved along the motion, rending the spear¡¯s stinger in half and severing all of Amula¡¯s right toes in the process. Maybe Dahlia should''ve reacted the same way Raya and Amula reacted, by bouncing away from her dad in pain and apprehension, but¡­ then it shone in her eye. The little trail of steel and silver dust, flaking off his claws. He could see the steel thread, too. She blinked, her vision going dark, and when she opened her eyes again she was sitting propped up on her dad¡¯s lap. Her arms are stubby and a little fat. They¡¯re by the bedroom desk, facing out the window. The air is suffocating though the undertown is cold outside, but in front of them on the table lies a dead beetle that isn¡¯t a single bit warm. Her father twirls his scalpel with expert proficiency, dissecting the beetle and cleanly removing its innards, so she looks back at him and asks, with a puzzled tilt of her head. ¡°Papa, papa. How did you get so good at cutting things up?¡± She finished her blink. She was back in the living room. Splinters and broken insect chitin flew as her dad cleaved up a storm, tearing entire floorboards out to throw at Amula and Jerie. Raya sliced through all of the debris with ease, but without an ear his footwork was unstable, his sense of balance slightly off with every forward thrust. Her dad dodged and swung his claws again, shattering the tip of the honey bee spear as if it were just sugar glass. The back walls shuddered. Metre-wide cracks splinted across the ground, blood trails flying as Raya retreated with a pained hiss. Her father doesn¡¯t look at her as he focuses on the beetle, making sure not to mess up removing its wings. ¡°I¡¯m not like mama,¡± he says. ¡°While she may be just as precise as I am, I don¡¯t like how violently she dismantles everything in front of her. I prefer softer, gentler cuts.¡± She frowns and kicks her legs back and forth, her heels thumping against his shins. ¡°But why?¡± she asks. Another blink. Rushes of maddened frenzy. Amula was ready for the counter cleaves this time as she leaped in close, a roar of fire bursting from her boots as she twirled through her dad¡¯s slash. The sickening crunch of her heels smashing into his right arm showed she¡¯d done some damage, but not nearly enough. While she recovered and tried to land, one of his extra arms shot out and slashed where her ankles touched down, the senior losing her balance completely. The other extra arm would¡¯ve shot through her throat had Jerie not screeched a single shrill note right in his ear, shattering the windows and pummeling her dad through the bedroom wall. A hundred prototype pocket watches flared to life with a chorus of discordant tick tocks as her dad flew through the closet, smashed through the desk, and recovered before he could hit the bed. He regained his bearings. Jerie couldn¡¯t draw another breath quick enough. Raya and Amula stepped in to defend their flautist as her dad came out swinging, ten steel threads trailing from each of his claws and connecting to her classmates¡¯ throats. ¡°Because when the cuts you use to dismantle something are soft and gentle, the parts you put back together into making something new will also feel soft and gentle,¡± he answers, as he twists the beetle¡¯s legs off and places them neatly by the side, ordering them from smallest to largest. ¡°The kind of Swarmsteel I like to make are those that are comfortable to use and gentle on the skin. If it gives you rashes and hurts to take off, then it is not so much a tool as it is a weapon of mutual destruction¡ªand I am a doctor, at the end of the day. Not a Swarmsteel Maker.¡± The flurry of slashes was unending, aggressively aimed at the trio¡¯s Swarmsteel as though her dad was actively trying to dismantle them. Harshly. Violently. Every bone in his body continued to snap as he jerked his limbs like they were hung on wires, every wound he sustained regenerated over with dagged black chitin. His vertical amber irises were unblinking, neither Raya nor the seniors could find a single inch of opportunity to move in close. If all they did was continue playing on defence and trying to draw it out as a battle of attrition, Dahlia knew for sure they would lose¡ªher dad, after all, was a man who¡¯d eaten nothing the past two years. His life had been starving. His struggles had been silent. Yet when his steel threads twirled around him, intertwining, enveloping his body like they were the threads that pulled his limbs along¡­ ¡°So when you grow up and go to the Bug-Slaying School, remember to make only Swarmsteel that has the user¡¯s sufferings in mind. ¡°Make soft, gentle Swarmsteel, fit for just that one person to equip. ¡°That is the kind of ¡®Make-Whatever¡¯ I¡¯d like you to be.¡± ¡­ All she could notice was how much brighter her own steel thread was, going from the tip of her scalpel to the patch of skin over his heart. She could see it. She could feel it. And when a pocket watch rolled across the floorboards to bump into her right hand, her hands moved to pick it off the ground and tuck it behind her waistband by themselves. ¡­ Eria. [Child of the Maker.] Is there a way to reverse the effects of entering the Frenzy state? [There has not been a single recorded case of anyone making a full recovery from the Frenzy state in a hundred years.] And if I just leave him here? [The more insect flesh he consumes, the closer he will be to losing his humanity completely, and if that happens¡­] ¡­ ¡­ I see. Amula and Jerie were sent flying out the windows. Raya skidded backwards with the blunt end of his spear dragging through the floorboards, bleeding from his ear and panting like his life depended on it. Maybe if they¡¯d arrived sooner and her dad hadn¡¯t been allowed to fight off as many giant insects as he had, they¡¯d be able to subdue him without much trouble¡­ but she¡¯d made them take detour after detour, pausing here and there, slowing them down with her indecision and cowardice¡ªso at the very least, in front of her own dad, she didn¡¯t want to appear like that. She didn¡¯t want to clench her fists in fear. Chisel in her left hand, a scalpel that¡¯d rolled over to her in her right, she turned the dial on her pocket watch and drew a slow breath to clear her mind. ¡°Life can only be seen backwards, but must be lived forward,¡± her father says. ¡°The hands of time turn clockwise. A story that doesn¡¯t end while repeating itself over and over is just like a bug that refuses to die until a boot. ¡°That is why my watches cannot be rewound. ¡°And that is why, no matter what irreconcilable mistakes you feel you have made, you cannot ever give up on life. ¡°You must move forward. ¡°Do you understand, Dahlia?¡± ¡°...¡± Little Dahlia nods firmly. Chapter 22 - The Daughter Little Dahlia awakens in the middle of the night with a flail, and the first thing she sees is her mother trying to claw her eye out. ¡°... Mama? What¨C¡± Her father doesn¡¯t give her a chance to blink. He grabs her by the waist and throws her out of the bedroom, hard. The door slams shut while she cries, having hit her head on the corner of the living room chair. It hurts. She¡¯s bleeding. Her muscles ache because of this afternoon¡¯s gruelling training at the Bug-Slaying School, but inside the bedroom she hears screeching, she hears screaming, she sees the shadows of her father and mother moving from under the slit in the door. She rams her shoulder into the door, trying to break the lock. ¡°Mama! Papa! What¡¯s going on?¡± She rams her shoulder into the door again, and something pops out of place. She winces, gritting her teeth as she curls into a little ball. Raya had hit her too hard this afternoon. Inside the bedroom the screeches turn feral, like that of a blood-curdling bug, so she bites her tongue and stands to start kicking. To start punching. She hears her father falling to the ground and insect parts falling all over, what sounds like bones cracking and skin ripping apart. Her hand trembles, her fingers lock on themselves. It takes her a whole minute to realise she can¡¯t get through the lock with brute force, so she dismantles it with a chisel and tuning needle before stumbling through. Her mother isn¡¯t her mother. It¡¯s the giant black bug in her dreams. And when it lunges at her face, its needle for a tongue aiming for her eye, her father kicks her in the face first to send her back out the room. She spends the next five minutes, completely disoriented, head spinning, stomach churning, her lungs tightening so hard she feels as though they might burst at any moment. But she hears it, she feels it¡ªa battle for dominance was taking place inside the bedroom, and she has to be there. Holding her breath, she races out the front door and circles around the house, struggling to stick her fingers under the window panes. The glass refuses to budge. She thinks about how to break it for a second before remembering what her father told her long ago; if she breaks something violently, it cannot be put back together gently. She likes the window. She doesn¡¯t want to go without it. So, running briefly back into the living room to grab her father¡¯s scalpel, she wedges it into the tiniest gap and starts prying. The scalpel snaps and cuts into her wrist, but she manages just enough force to loosen the lock and climb into the bedroom. When she enters, her father is standing over the eviscerated carcass of the giant black bug. His hands are claws. One of his eyes is a vertical amber slit. Immediately, before she could even scream, he hits her across the face and shoves her into the closet, locking the handles with a metal chain. It isn¡¯t a complete lock. She can peek through the crack, bang on the wood, and see her father picking the giant black bug up so he could bury it outside in the field¡ªthe entire time she screams and cries, her heartbeat a storm in her ears, her throat so dry and airy any more screaming would probably shatter the window she¡¯d tried so hard not to break. It was of no use. She watches, through the crack in her closet, through the window looking out at the field, as her father buries her mother without dressing her up first. Her mother disappears into the soil as a giant, disgusting black bug. ¡°...¡± She falls backwards and bumps into a hundred pocket watches, turning their dials all at the same time. They start counting down. They don¡¯t stop counting down. She can hardly hear herself over the rhythmic tick tocks, she can hardly shake the shaking in her hands as she covers her ears. She doesn¡¯t want to hear. She doesn¡¯t want to see. She doesn¡¯t want to remember. Tonight, ¡®Mama¡¯ and ¡®Papa¡¯ are no more. - Scene from Sina Household past
¡­ Dahlia had been thinking about it for quite a while now, but there was a chance that her pocket watch¡¯s one minute wasn¡¯t the same as everyone else¡¯s one minute. At least, that was what her mom had always told her. When she¡¯d first gotten into making Swarmsteel out of discarded insect parts nobody wanted, her mom had told her to time herself so as not to get bogged down by the small, insignificant details. This way, she¡¯d be making ¡®more¡¯ Swarmsteel than ¡®better¡¯ Swarmsteel, and her mom had always been a stalwart believer of ¡®quantity over quality¡¯¡ªthe exact opposite from her dad, in that sense, who believed every Swarmsteel should be made to fit only one person, down to their exact specifications. He¡¯d never forced her to time herself. He¡¯d never approved of her keeping a closet full of pocket watches, because the rhythmic tick tocks hurt his sensitive ears and he just couldn¡¯t stand reading around them. She¡¯d always wondered how her mom and dad got along with such different outlooks on life, but it wasn¡¯t until now¡ªfacing her dad head-on with his feral amber eyes boring holes into hers¡ªthat she wondered if maybe they¡¯d simply never considered Swarmsteel as all of their lives. It was true she couldn¡¯t remember much about her mom apart from the times they¡¯d spent dismantling old Swarmsteel together, and it was also true she struggled to recall the times she¡¯d spent with her dad not talking about his work or putting some new toy together out of scrap¡­ but at the end of the day, before they were toy makers and doctors and weapon designers and dismantlers at the old repair shop downstairs, they were a happily married couple. Their lives weren¡¯t all Swarmsteel. They had other things they cared about, other things they were exceptionally skilled at. They weren¡¯t like her, who had nothing in her name apart from the one skill she could claim to be a little bit proud of. Therefore, the steel thread in her eyes was brighter than all ten of her dad¡¯s under brilliant moonlight. ¡­ Tick, tock. Raya struggled to stand using his broken spear as a crutch, so she strode past him and tapped him on the shoulder, giving him a ghost of a smile. To think she¡¯d thought him cruel and cold and distant for five years straight; the reason he¡¯d volunteered to accompany her all the way here was simply because he didn¡¯t like owing people debts, and he felt an obligation to put her dad down for the sake of Alshifa. He was a kind person after all. Amula and Jerie, too, who were trying their best to recover while stumbling back into the house¡ªshe didn¡¯t exactly know why they¡¯d volunteered alongside Raya, but surely it had something to do with her dad as well. Even though he¡¯d stayed a recluse the past two years, a person to be pitied for being unable to get over the passing of his wife, the people he¡¯d helped as a doctor remembered the softness of the calloused hands that were extended to them¡­ and to see those same hands turned into revolting black claws that could do nothing but cleave and destroy now, well; if her mom couldn¡¯t set him right, then it was up to her to give him a good talking to. His were soft and gentle hands, incapable of clenching into fists, incapable of cruelty. Were her hands even somewhat similar to his, she wondered? Tick, tock. Her dad screeched out with each step, with each ragged breath, swiping his claws in a mad flurry. They¡¯d cleaved through walls, shattered stones, parted flesh from bones and felled giant insects five times his size, but he was a doctor who¡¯d not practised with his scalpel for two long years. His steel threads aimed for her throat, and she saw them coming, barely managing to sidestep them calmly before breaking into a forward dash¡ªshe saw the space between his attacks and jumped for it, closing the three metre distance in the blink of an eye. His extra insect arms swung at her from his waist, as though trying to wrap her in a hug¨C ¡°This is how you evade papa¡¯s hug, Dahlia!¡± her mother says, poking her father¡¯s waist and then immediately jerking her upper body away, throwing her spine so far back little Dahlia almost felt like she heard something snap. But her father¡¯s hug misses, her feet are still firmly planted on the ground, and he grimaces before attempting a follow-up hug. Miss again. Third try. Miss again. As her mother laughs and jerks herself around the living room, her father gets frustrated and turns to little Dahlia. She gulps. She parts her legs and mimics her mother¡¯s stance. The trick seems to be moving only her upper body, since her father doesn¡¯t like hugging people above their waists, so ¡®minimal evasive movements would both be effective as a physical counter and as an emotional blow to his confidence¡¯. Her mother is the best at teasing her father. So when her father whirls on her, grinning from ear to ear, practically pouncing at her from across the living room to wrap her around in a hug she¡¯d not be able to escape from for the next twenty minutes¨C ¨Cshe threw her upper body to the left, avoided getting bisected in half by the cleaving arms, and pivoted by jamming her scalpel into his thigh. Tick, tock. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it. His body trembled, a pained growl escaped his throat, and she cut three times along the gaps of his black chitin with her scalpel before kicking the scalpel deeper into his leg¡ªthe heavy armoured plates peeled off his muscle strands and exposed them to the air, throwing him off balance. He leaned heavily on one leg, his claws went from sky to ground to cut her face off. In another single, smooth movement, she followed her steel thread and withdrew a single step. Left his attack range. Then she stabbed his wrist with her chisel and slid forward, carving off more chitin plates growing around his arm. She ended up behind him, her breaths still held. She¡¯d disabled one of his arms. There was hardly any need for a mirror for her to tell five steel threads were still converging behind her on the back of her neck, but hers was brighter, hers was stronger; she whirled on her heels with a burst of speed, cutting in a zigzag eight times down his torso before he even managed one, and then she darted out of the way as more chitin plates shattered directly off his chest. He snapped his head and neck at a complete right angle, his needle for a tongue hanging out, the tip sleazing with venom¨C ¡°Papa¡¯s really bad at hiding secrets, you know?¡± her mother says, as the two of them laze around the sofa while watching her father try to hide what he was making from them; his shoulders are too thin and his back too narrow to properly cover his arms, so he scowls back at them and waves at them to go outside. Her mother picks her up, laughing softly. ¡°I can always tell when he doesn¡¯t want us around the house, or when he wants to take us by surprise with something special. If you can read the same tell, Dahlia, he¡¯ll never be able to take you by surprise ever again.¡± Little Dahlia looks down at her mother, nodding fervently. ¡°What! What! What¡¯s the tell?¡± ¡°Guess first. What¡¯s so suspicious about papa¡¯s body language?¡± ¡°Um¨C¡± ¡°¨CEria, don¡¯t teach our daughter how to extract information out of me¨C¡± ¡°¨Cpapa always looks away when he¡¯s lying?¡± Her mother smirks. ¡°Nope.¡± ¡°He always stands up and paces around when he¡¯s nervous?¡± ¡°Nope.¡± ¡°He always sneaks a bottle of alcohol at four in the morning when he can¡¯t sleep?¡± ¡°N¡­ what? Huh? Sanyon¨C¡± ¡°¨CDahliaaaaaaaa, why¡¯d you tell her¨C¡± ¡°¨Cbut it¡¯s not that, either,¡± her mother says, grumbling quietly at her father¡¯s direction as she did. ¡°You see, whenever he¡¯s keeping things from me or he¡¯s trying to be discreet about something, he tilts his head at this really weird angle, almost as though he¡¯s¡­ trying to figure out how to dissect me. It¡¯s really eerie. ¡°So whenever you feel creeped out by your papa, and you think he¡¯s up to some funny, no-good business¨C¡± ¨Cshe lunged forward, stabbing her scalpel through the back of his hand to stop him from pulling out another bombardier beetle bomb. Tick, tock. He came at her swinging, abandoning his plan of using any explosives on her, and there was nothing elegant about his swings this time¡ªhe wasn¡¯t following his steel threads. He was just an insect taking the form of a frail, dying man who¡¯d not seen a single ray of firefly light in the past two years. She stepped around his claws, using her free hand to redirect his bloody hands, gradually putting more and more distance between the two of them; it was only once he¡¯d completely abandoned all semblance of fighting like a human that her steel thread twirled in spirals around his remaining functional arm, a pretty shape that seemed as though it wanted her to fly in swinging, screaming with all her might. She wasn¡¯t going to do that, though. When his claws cleaved upwards, she already knew what the attack was going to look like¡ªshe¡¯d already seen him do the exact same thing to Raya and the seniors¡ªso she dashed in with a quick half-step, evading and counter-attacking at once. Five cuts to each claw joint, severing them by the second knuckle. Two cuts in a zigzag across his wrist, cutting the contracting tendons. Eight spiralling cuts along the length of his forearm and biceps, freeing his skin beneath from the suffocating plates of chitin. Softly. Gently. And then her steel thread took her from shoulder to clavicle, clavicle to chest, chest into sternum into muscles into fat, leading her to plunge her chisel deep into his heart. ¡­ Tick. Tock. Ding! The timer was up, her lips parted for a gasp of fresh air¡ªit didn¡¯t last long. Her dad snarled and shot his hands around her neck, claws removed, but his bloody stumps for fingers were still more than sharp enough to tear into her skin. Dozens of serrated chitin edges ripped into her flesh. She tried to pull back, letting out a small cry of pain before she found her lungs burning for air, her throat screaming for water; tears filled her vision as he lifted her into the air, legs kicking uselessly off the ground. There was only pain. His fingers didn¡¯t let up, shifting their grip and tightening as he tried to snap her neck. She let go of her chisel to try to pry his hands off, but her muscles felt like jelly and even the smallest amount of effort brought about agony-induced rigour in her arms. She had no more strength left in her. Sixty seconds was all she had, and sixty seconds was all she had spent. Her dad knew this. Of course he knew this. Even now, his vertical amber slits were watching her quietly, his needle for a tongue hovering dangerously close to her remaining eye, his sharpened ears twitching as he listened to her croaking out his name¡­ ¡­ ¡­ And then he dropped her, his bloody fingers flying over the chisel lodged in his chest as he stumbled back into the sofa at the end of the living room. She fell onto her knees, spasming and flailing with her whole body, and for a brief while she thought she might be falling unconscious¡ªbut no. She couldn¡¯t. She wouldn¡¯t. Before she even felt she formulated the single coherent thought in her mind, Eria injected a rush of adrenaline through her veins and made her spine arch, her vision curving like she was observing the world underwater again. Her lungs drew breath. Her limbs plundered residual strength from her deepest reserves. She managed to pull her head and grit her teeth as she crawled forward, making her way to her dad. He was sitting motionless at the base of the sofa one second, and then in the next, he ripped out the chisel in his chest to impale his left wrist into the wall behind him. Now he couldn¡¯t possibly lunge at her anymore. ¡°... Eria?¡± He whispered, his words a bit stilted because of his needle tongue, but she could understand him just fine. So she froze, just half a metre before reaching him, and pressed her quivering lips together as she watched him stare right over her head. There was nobody in the direction he was looking at. He was looking straight out the broken front door. ¡°I¡­ must already be dead, huh?¡± he mumbled, his whole body shuddering lightly as what sounded like a laugh bubbled out his chest. ¡°The realm between the living and the dead. A world without light, a limbo without sound. I can¡¯t¡­ I can¡¯t see you, Eria. ¡°Where are you? ¡°You¡¯re here with me, right? ¡°... ¡°... No. ¡°This is the trial to determine whether I am free to reincarnate or fated to karmic suffering, is it not?¡± She had to clamp her hands over her mouth so as not to let out a single sound. Faintly she heard footsteps behind her; Raya and the seniors recovering from their injuries, stumbling back in to see what was going on. She didn¡¯t need to shoot a glance back at them for them to know they should stay back. Her dad was smiling, still, at the empty space over her head. ¡°I¡¯d always thought karmic suffering could be my only end for failing to fulfil my promise to you, but here I¡­ am. Still conscious after death. Still waiting for ¡®true¡¯ death,¡± he said, chortling as he did. ¡°The divine exists. They have given me a chance to perform one last kind act in my life, and now that I have stabbed myself into this wall, I will be able to hurt you no more. ¡°I can reincarnate with you now. ¡°I can be with you again. ¡°So go ahead, first, and I¡¯ll¡­ I¡¯ll catch up with you, after this cursed body of mine draws its last breath.¡± Her self-control shattered. She couldn¡¯t stop herself from crawling forward once again, her breaths quick and heavy, her fingers fumbling around his insect claws for toes before she managed to climb his leg like a tree, pulling herself up over him. He was still so, so, so much taller than her. He wasn¡¯t old at all. He wasn¡¯t frail at all. He wasn¡¯t pitiable at all. He was anything but the man everyone knew him as. ¡°... I¡¯m sorry, dad,¡± she whispered, as she leaned in close, tears rolling from her eye, her voice a stammering, blubbering mess. ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I¡¯m¡­ I¡¯m sorry. I didn¡¯t do anything. I knew what¡¯d happened, but I didn¡¯t¡­ I couldn¡¯t do anything. I couldn¡¯t research like you. I¡¯m not smart like you. I ran and ran and ran¨C¡± ¡°I¡¯m sorry too, Eria,¡± he mumbled, patting her head slowly with his free hand, head lolling round and round. ¡°I¡¯m¡­ no genius of a doctor after all. I couldn¡¯t fulfil my promise. I couldn¡¯t look after Dahlia. It was reckless injecting myself with your blood, and I knew it, but I thought I could¡­ I thought I, of all people, could¡¯ve found a cure¨C¡± ¡°N-No, dad.¡± She sniffled, wiped her nose, and grabbed his face to glare into his amber eyes; not that he could see anything out of them, anyways. ¡°You are a genius. The youngest doctor in Alshifa¡¯s history. Swarmsteel Maker hobbyist. You made half of the school¡¯s equipment, gave off half of your pay every month to the orphanage you grew up in, and you worked so hard nobody demanded you to start working again even after two years of silence¡ªso don¡¯t say you¡¯re not a genius. Refusal. You¡­ you¡¯re my dad. You looked after me just fine¨C¡± ¡°Dahlia will be alright, though,¡± he said, quite plainly, as she swallowed a gulp and let out a shuddering exhale. ¡°She¡¯s¡­ the spitting image of you when you were younger. Quick with her hands. Poor at socialising. I worry she won¡¯t be able to find a boy like you found me, but¡­ hah. She¡¯ll be just alright. ¡°She¡¯s the ¡®Make-Whatever¡¯, after all. ¡°She¡¯ll make her own path, and when she does, she¡¯ll be brighter and more dazzling than both of us combined. ¡°I know it. ¡°I feel it. ¡°So¡­ I don¡¯t think we need to worry about her all too much.¡± He offered her a weak smile, and her jaw remained clenched with pain as she held him still, refusing to let his head fall¡ªbut by now even the unnatural boost of adrenaline had worn off, and she couldn¡¯t hold her arms up anymore. They fell, slowly into his lap. Her head followed the same path, pressing into the ground. And when he breathed his last, his broken face melting into an adoring smile, his bloody fingers reaching into his pocket to hand her a piece of bloodberry candy¨C ¡°Dahlia,¡± her mother whispers. ¡°Dahlia,¡± her father repeats. Little Dahlia looks up between the two of them, fingers fidgeting nervously. She knows it isn¡¯t a name her parents had considered she¡¯d pick, but she really, really, really wants it¡ªit is the name of the pretty flower her father could grow all year-long, without fear the cold would claim it, without worry loneliness could make it wilt. Even if there is only one little flower standing outside on the field, it would continue to live until it could make new friends, see warmer days; what better name could there possibly be for a friendless loser like her? The only thing she¡¯d been worrying about was whether or not her parents would accept the name. But, in hindsight, she should¡¯ve known her mother would support her no matter what decision she made, and she should¡¯ve known her father was always just a bit too easy to persuade if she cried and pretended to be a little sad. So tonight, without worrying about what anyone would think of her¨C ¨CDahlia cried. Moonlight fell cold and gentle on the back of her neck. And she felt she might never be able to stop crying.
Arc Three, ¡°Father¡±, End Interlude 5 - The Sina Watch ¡­ After little Dahlia picks her name for her eighth birthday, she rushes back into the house, huddling around the fireplace. Sanyon and Eria follow, closing the door behind them as they share a warm smile between themselves. It¡¯s unusually cold today, but when they are together not even a blizzard will be able to tip them over¡ªat least, that¡¯s what Sanyon wants to think of the little burrow he¡¯d built for the three of them, far from the tumult of the Bazaar and the New District. While Eria moves to pull the window close and he feeds more logs to the fire, little Dahlia hops onto the living room chair and slaps her hand on the table. ¡°I wanna make something!¡± she declares, spinning in her seat as she looks Eria and Sanyon over with a brazen grin. ¡°Papa! Teach! I wanna make something that you can make!¡± ¡°You¡¯ll learn the basics next year, once you get into the Bug-Slaying School,¡± he says, as Eria hums and skips into their bedroom, closet doors being thrown against the walls. ¡°You probably won¡¯t like crafting, anyways. It¡¯s difficult and laborious work for very little recognition. You¡¯ll be better off learning how to use things other people make if you want to be popular with the other kids¨C¡± ¡°I don¡¯t need to be seen! I just wanna make something!¡± Hearing the conviction in her voice, he turns and glances at her properly; her eyes are shining, her irises are popping. She wants to make something for her eighth birthday¡ªwhy not entertain her a little with his hobby, then? ¡°... Alright,¡± he says, slapping his knees as he gets up from the sofa, heading towards the table. ¡°But do papa a favour and go get my insect parts from the bedroom. My knees haven¡¯t been doing very well lately, so¨C¡± ¡°Here you go, papa,¡± Eria says, dumping the crate onto the table with a teasing grin as she does. Little Dahlia cheers and immediately hops onto his lap, drumming the table with her fingers. He stares at Eria, nose scrunching, before sighing and retrieving the basic insect parts from his crate. ¡°What can I make, papa?¡± little Dahlia asks. He doesn¡¯t answer immediately. He thinks deeply, without breathing, before his eyes catch on the broken ornamental clock dangling over the table. ¡®Might as well¡¯, he thinks. His thumb flicks the dial of the spare pocket watch hung around his waistband, and the rhythmic ticks send his mind into a world of its own¡ªhis hands move on their own. He retrieves a small chrome mantis scythe, a butterfly veil, and a few plates of flattened beetle carapaces he¡¯d been planning on using for one of the fifth-year¡¯s bombardier beetle boots. He could just replace the parts at the Night Bazaar tomorrow. Tonight, he has sixty seconds to make something interesting; he begins by leaning forward in his chair, making little Dahlia squeal and giggle as she is thrown for a whirl. First, his expression tightens, he reaches into his pocket and pops a small bloodberry candy into his mouth. His fingers press the malleable beetle carapaces into the shape of a half-dome, more oval than circular, before clipping small pieces off the spare carapaces to begin shaping them into little gears. Just five is enough. Once he has five, he props up the back of the dome with a chisel and stares at his mantis scythe pensively. When he¡¯d bought the part from the bug trader a year ago he didn¡¯t think its serrated edges would look any good as a moving hand, but on closer inspection he supposed they¡¯d look somewhat smooth in circular motion. The tip is slightly curved, it¡¯d be like a blade trailing through a soft bed of sand. Without excessive thought, he shapes three more beetle carapaces into small pins and jams them through the end of the three scythes, attaching the second, minute, and hour hand over three individual gears. Then he joins all three together with the two remaining gears, and the array is complete. Little Dahlia¡¯s eyes light up in excitement. Eria sits on the end of the table, smiling softly at them. He hardly notices their affectionate looks. The array is physically arranged, but he only has thirty seconds left to make it mechanically arranged. This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings. He flips the array over, takes out a vial of firefly extract from the crate, and then immediately pours the contents into a single glass bulb. The bulb is here to serve a very specific purpose. Liquified firefly extract can act as a heat converter, meaning whenever the dial of the array is turned, the extract absorbs the friction generated by the dial and releases it as heat, which then turns the gears of the array via rapid heat expansion. The full mechanisms of how this extract functions elude him still, but he only needs to know it does work¡ªto make the gears spin for an entire day without stopping, one only has to turn the dial once and leave it at that. It is almost akin to a wind-up mechanism, only, the longevity as amplified by the firefly extract far exceeds that of any normal wind-up machine. With four seconds to spare, he screws the bulb onto the back of the array, sticks the array into the half-dome, hastily wraps the butterfly veil over the half-dome as decoration, and turns the dial while letting the pocket watch on his waistband ring away. ¡°...¡± He lets out his breath at long last and frowns at his creation. The ¡®pocket watch¡¯, if he could even call it that, is exceedingly crude and unrefined. The main beetle body isn''t polished, the edges aren''t completely smooth. The butterfly veil is hastily slapped on without proper sap and glue adhesives. There isn¡¯t even a glass covering over the array, meaning if anyone were to knock it over the array would just shatter into pieces. He wouldn¡¯t even feel good about putting it up on a shelf, let alone thinking about selling it at the Bazaar¡ªbut little Dahlia doesn¡¯t seem to agree. She grabs the watch, hops off his lap, and starts jumping on the sofa with it; just what is it that she sees in his shoddy creation? ¡°It¡¯s not that good, you know?¡± he says, turning around in his chair as Eria places a hand on his shoulder. ¡°You know what? I can make something you¡¯ll probably like more. A pocket watch is boring for a girl your age. Do you want a plushie or a fake sword or a new shawl? Just say what you want, and I¡¯ll¨C¡± ¡°Teach me how to make it! Again!¡± Little Dahlia doesn¡¯t seem to care about what he has to say as she jumps off the couch, hopping back onto his lap. Her fingers are drumming against the table once more, her eyes devouring the insect parts in the crate. ¡­ How strange. It¡¯s just a plain, boring, shoddy pocket watch. ¡°Do you like the ticking sounds?¡± he asks. ¡°No!¡± she answers. ¡°Do you like the insect parts I used to make it?¡± ¡°I dunno what those parts are!¡± ¡°Do you like the butterfly decoration on the back?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t like the webbed pattern! I want a flower pattern!¡± ¡°Then, what¡­ do you like about it?¡± Little Dahlia doesn¡¯t hesitate, she doesn¡¯t think; she answers with a smile bright enough to light up Alshifa. ¡°You made this for me, papa!¡± ¡°...¡± Eria closes her eyes and squeezes down on his shoulder, but even he knows better than to say anything strange in response. ¡°Because I made this for you, and only you, huh?¡± he mumbles. Little Dahlia doesn¡¯t hear him and Eria squeezes his shoulder again. ¡°... Alright. But we¡¯ll make a better pocket watch this time, okay?¡± he says, as he scoots his chair forward and makes sure little Dahlia can get her hands over the table properly. ¡°Don¡¯t be lazy. Don¡¯t be generic. Everything you make must be made with ¡®someone¡¯ in mind, or else it will be as though you¡¯ve made nothing at all. ¡°Can you promise me that, Dahlia!¡± ¡°Okay!¡± ¡°Good. Now here¡¯s your candy. The sugar will give your brain a rush, and you¡¯ll never fail to come up with something interesting.¡± - Scene from Sina Household past Interlude 6 - The Sina Friend The night is dark when little Dahlia trips into an open sewer on her way home. Her firefly cage shatters, she loses her light. Her bloody fingers trace the dried walls. There are hundreds of abandoned sewer tunnels all across the Old District, and while she couldn¡¯t say she was completely unfamiliar with some of them, the fact is the night is dark¡ªshe can¡¯t see a thing, and she doesn¡¯t want to call for help. She knows she shouldn¡¯t have gone out alone looking for the pocket watch her father made for her eighth birthday, but if she goes home without it, her father would be mad at her. She would be mad at herself, too. It was the first thing anyone made for her with her in mind; even if she has to spend the entire night scouring the Old District alone, she has to find it. So she takes a step forward¨C ¡°Eeek!¡± Something is crawling along the tunnel. Lots of little somethings. She panics and pushes herself up against the curved wall, trying to get away from the squirming line of shadows¡ªit is of no use. There are too many ants, trying to skitter past her toes, and all she can do is hold her breaths. Eventually, the ants pass and she is alone again. She breathes. Her heart refuses to settle. If she stays in the dark any longer she feels her chest is going to burst, and she¡¯d seen an open, bloody chest before, from one of her father¡¯s patients. She doesn¡¯t want that to happen to her. She has to find a way out. Plucking a bloodberry candy out of her pocket, she skirts along the left wall of the tunnel and starts walking forward. Sugar keeps her mind moving, adrenaline keeps her legs moving. Vaguely she remembers the various exits to the sewers all across the Old District, and when she fell in she was only a few hundred metres from the closest one¡ªon the streets above, she¡¯d have to turn left, left, left, and then right. It shouldn¡¯t be all too different down here, she thought. As long as she kept going she¡¯d surely stumble upon an exit eventually. Ten minutes pass. She finds nothing, she finishes her first piece of candy, her fingers start to hurt. Twenty minutes pass. She finds nothing, she finishes her second piece of candy, her legs start to tire. Thirty minutes pass. She finds nothing, she finishes her third piece of candy, her mind starts to wander. She only has one piece of candy left. If she runs out of candy, will she just die down here? ¡°...¡± No, no, no. She doesn¡¯t want to think about it. She claps her cheeks together and puckers her lips, trying to remember the sensation of sugar on her tongue. It isn¡¯t of much use. The lingering taste had already faded, replaced with the stale, dank, dusty air of the tunnels. She is about to pop her last piece of candy into her mouth when she hears quiet sniffling, just around the corner. Driven half by curiosity and half by dread, she pokes her head around the corner and waves her hand around. She grabs a tuft of hair. A little boy yelps and tells her to stop. She apologises, trips over a pebble, and then falls on her rear¡ªnow the two of them are eye-level, though neither one of them can see the other without a firefly cage between them. ¡°... Are you also lost, like me?¡± the boy asks, and her ears perk. He sounds a fair bit younger than her. ¡°I fell in here on my way home, and I can¡¯t¡­ I can¡¯t find my way out. ¡°Can you help me?¡± She doesn¡¯t say anything at first, because she doesn¡¯t recognise his voice. So strange. But then she shakes her head and he starts panicking, hands swishing about the dark in search of her. The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. She grabs his hands by pure intuition alone and holds them still. ¡°I can¡¯t help you¡­ either,¡± she whispers, trying to muster courage into her voice; she feels she¡¯s doing a great job before the younger boy. ¡°I¡¯m also¡­ um, lost.¡± ¡°Oh.¡± ¡°Is anyone¡­ um, looking for you?¡± she says sheepishly. ¡°I don¡¯t¡­ wanna call out for papa or mama. They¡¯ll get mad at me. Can you call your papa and mama instead?¡± The boy¡¯s hands shake. ¡°I can¡¯t call them.¡± ¡°Oh.¡± ¡°...¡± ¡°...¡± ¡°... Do we really have to go back?¡± he says, and she hears him sitting against the wall, curling up in a ball. ¡°I don¡¯t¡­ wanna go home. ¡°It¡¯s not fun. ¡°I¡¯m bad at everything I do. ¡°I don¡¯t know what I even want to do.¡± Then he starts crying. He starts unloading everything on her. He tells her he has no talent, no proper ambition¡ªhe wants to be a chef and study how to cook in the General School, but his knife skills are bad and so he keeps on cutting himself. His friends and family are telling him to drop out and walk a different path instead, so he doesn¡¯t really want to go home. ¡°They¡¯ll look at me weird,¡± he says. ¡°Everyone¡¯s going to study in the same field and I¡¯m the only one walking a different path. ¡°Hey. ¡°What do you think I should do? ¡°Should I just sit here and die, or should I get up and walk?¡± The entire time, little Dahlia had been wondering why he was being so pessimistic, but when he says that she gets a bit irritated. She grabs him by the collar and lifts him onto his feet, her own arms trembling in fear. ¡°... If you can¡¯t make a decisive choice, then take both options and deal with the consequences later!¡± she says, doing her best impression of her father¡¯s voice. ¡°If you¡­ um¡­ if you clench your fists, you aren¡¯t making anything with them! So you can¡¯t clench your fists! And if you make a watch that can be unwound, that means you¡¯re going to keep going back and you¡¯re not moving forward! That means you¡¯re not confident in your skills! And I believe in you! You have potential to be great no matter what, so the path you make with your own two hands will be the path that is best for you. That¡¯s why¡­ that¡¯s why¡­ ¡°That¡¯s why we have to go! ¡°Now! ¡°Here! Eat this! ¡°I¡¯ll make a path for us out of here for sure! She shoves her last piece of candy into his hand and leads him by the arm, pulling him along the tunnel. Her face is burning hot. She didn¡¯t know what to say to comfort the little boy, so she just regurgitated every last quote she could remember her father saying¡ªhalf of them didn¡¯t even make sense in this situation. She¡¯s embarrassed. She¡¯s anxious to turn around and see what the little boy¡¯s face might look like, hearing those words coming from her mouth. So she keeps on walking, keeps on dragging him along, for ten minutes and then twenty and then thirty¨C And then she spots a column of firefly light spilling down an open chute in the ceiling. There is a ladder there. ¡°... You know your way home, right!¡± she asks, breathless, not even as a question, as she lets go of the little boy¡¯s hand to begin scrambling up the ladder. ¡°Go home! Make your own path! Do whatever you want! But don¡¯t clench your fists, or¡­ um¡­ the black bug will come and get you at night! ¡°Bye!¡± The little boy tries to say something, but she flies up the ladder so fast she doesn¡¯t get to hear him. It is only when she returns home, and her father and mother start sobbing over her hour-long disappearance, that she realises she never got the little boy¡¯s name. ¡°...¡± She would¡¯ve liked to tell him her name. - Scene from Northern Old District past Chapter 23 - Rest ¡°... Mama.¡± ¡°Yeah?¡± ¡°Why does papa give off all of his coins to the orphanage downstairs?¡± ¡°Hm. I¡¯m not sure, really. He says he grew up there after his parents died in a Swarm infestation over twenty years ago, and the sirs and madams of the orphanage were always very kind to him. When he got incredible results in the General School, they even let him move out to live alone in this house so he could study better, so he probably feels like he owes them his entire life.¡± ¡°But we don¡¯t have enough coins to eat good food ourselves, though?¡± ¡°We don¡¯t need to eat the most delicious food every single day. Sometimes, simple bread and water is good enough. Compared to what we have, the council has all but abandoned the orphanage down in the Old District, refusing to provide the facility with any more coins than the barest minimum¡ªpapa is just making sure the kids would at least grow up to be as healthy as you. ¡°Besides, this is the papa that I fell in love with. ¡°He wants to help everyone, he wants to dip his hands in everything, he wants to make it so no child has to starve like he had back when he was in the orphanage¡ªif he wasn¡¯t kind like that, I¡¯m sure he would¡¯ve kicked me out when I showed up on his doorstep all those years ago, begging for something to eat.¡± ¡°... Huh? ¡°You were an orphan too, mama?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t really remember, to be honest. I think I must have a mama and papa of my own, but I don¡¯t really¡­ know. Does it really matter now, though?¡± ¡°...¡± ¡°... Sleep tight, Dahlia. ¡°Don¡¯t let the bed bugs bite.¡± - Conversation from Sina Household past
¡­ It might¡¯ve been a good minute or two. Ten minutes or twenty. It might¡¯ve even been an entire hour, for all Dahlia really knew, but eventually exhaustion got the better of her and her tear ducts dried up, her voice no longer able to cry. Everything she had to say to her dad, she¡¯d already said out loud and proud¡ªso now there was nothing left to do but to cling onto his cold hand for just a few seconds, a few minutes more. His death wasn¡¯t easy to accept. He¡¯d always been the immortal genius doctor in her head, the man who could carry her on his back up and down the tallest cliffs in Alshifa without breaking a sweat; how could his hand be so cold now? It was because of her. She¡¯d killed him. She¡¯d cut through his steel threads, she¡¯d broken his insect limbs, she¡¯d dismantled him from head to toe¡ªwithout his chitin plates to protect him, of course warmth would be seeping away from his body with cold moonlight falling onto them from far, far away. In that sense, she wasn¡¯t surprised. She was just a little¡­ tired. ¡°... We¡¯ve made too much of a ruckus with that first bomb of his going off. The Swarm¡¯s coming,¡± Raya said, his voice firm and steady as he stood next to her, peering down at her dad using his spear as a walking cane. ¡°I doubt we¡¯d all be able to get down the hill without getting detected, and I don¡¯t suppose you can make another glider the way you are right now. Got any bright ideas you want to share?¡± The bristles on her bracers told her as much, there were faint, barely noticeable rumbles coming from all the way below the hill, and judging by the soft clattering of giant legs in the distance, the Swarm would be upon them within two minutes, maybe even a little less. She shook her head with her eyes squeezed shut, racking her head in an attempt to think of an alternative route off the hill. For decades, it¡¯d only been the single staircase connecting her house to the rest of the undertown, so if they couldn¡¯t go down that route, the only alternative would be to scale directly down the vertical cliffs¨C ¡°Eh. I guessed as much,¡± Raya said, shrugging as he turned and began pacing out the front door, spear resting on his shoulder. ¡°I¡¯ll go down and distract the bugs. The three of you walk along the edge of the hill and find a spot to jump down to. You and the cicada boy have your mantles to increase air drag, while Amula¡¯s beetle boots should be able to nullify most of the landing impact. Have her carry the two of you on her shoulder while you fan your mantles like the glider wings they once were.¡± ¡­ Huh? The beating in her chest vanished for a brief second as she whirled around, eyes snapping wide open. Amula and Jerie, who were leaning by the doorframe, looked every bit as puzzled as she was, almost letting Raya stride past them without making much of a fuss¡ªbut then Amula blinked again and grabbed his shawl, choking his neck from behind. Raya clicked his tongue, glaring back at her. ¡°Let go, bitch.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll tear all yer clothes off before I let you kill yerself,¡± she growled back, hobbling a step forward as she tried to get her other hand on his neck. ¡°We¡¯re leavin¡¯ together. Together. There¡¯s, what, fifty or sixty giant bugs down there? ¡®Distract them¡¯ my ass, like ye can do that with a shoddy spear and a missin¡¯ ear¨C¡± He rammed the end of his spear into her stomach and made her double over, clutching her stomach in pain. A second blind swing knocked her off her feet¡ªlosing all five toes on her right foot was a detrimental blow to her balance¡ªso Jerie caught her before she could fall too hard, all three of them staring at Raya¡¯s slowly shrinking back as he paced towards the rattling staircase at the edge of the hill. For a second, Dahlia almost thought he was just going to leave without even giving them a parting wave, but then he glanced at her with his eyes brimming with fury¡ªand the anger, she felt, wasn¡¯t exactly directed at her. The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°... I¡¯d like to say I repaid my favour to Doctor Sanyon, but my gut tells me I have yet to do anything of the sort,¡± he said, dipping his head slightly in acknowledgement of her presence. ¡°We¡¯ll meet again, Dahlia Sina. And I¡¯ll still owe you a favour.¡± His expression was still cold and distant, but the light in his eyes was anything but¡ªhe didn¡¯t even try to walk down the stairs properly. She watched, teeth gritted, as he vaulted off the railings and plummeted straight into the Swarm; the sounds of battle and carnage resounding a mere moment later, filling the air with a cacophony of dying screeches. She could only hope she wouldn¡¯t hear his scream amongst them, and thankfully the seniors didn¡¯t seem to want to stick around, either. While Amula stumbled in her direction, cursing the missing toes, she managed to let go of her dad¡¯s hand to begin picking up the shards of his broken insect claws. Out of everything she wanted to take with her back to the shelter, it was those black chitin shards of his. She could make something out of his claws. She had to do it. [And¡­ his body?] Eria said, tapping on her shoulder as she scooped in as many broken fragments she could, bundling all of them up in a torn window drape. [Will you simply leave him here without giving him the honourable bug-slayer¡¯s deathbed? Will you not bury him, either? If a bug devours him in his current state, they might stand to evolve and become a Mutant themselves¨C] No. She paused, halfway through wrapping her drape into a pouch, to look wearily at her dad¡¯s hanging head. He¡¯s¡­ honourable enough, with his hand raised in the air like that. Will any bug dare to approach a man looking so strong and powerful even after his death? Eria didn¡¯t immediately respond. [... I suppose not.] Just as she finished securing her pouch onto her waistband, Amula finished bandaging her own feet. Then she was picked up and slung around, allowed to ride on the senior¡¯s back without a single grunt of complaint. Jerie smiled weakly and thumbed at himself, as though asking if he could also jump in on the haul, but Amula sneered at him before practically sprinting out of the house, clutching the fragments of her half-destroyed beetle boot in her hands as well. If they had time to spare¡ªand if the Swarm wasn¡¯t literally right below their hill, ready to storm up the moment they got past Raya¡ªDahlia would¡¯ve liked to rummage through her house looking for insect parts that could prove useful back in the shelter. She knew she had lots tucked away in secret boxes scattered around the house, and the fact that her dad even had two of her bombs on him meant he¡¯d already uncovered some of her stashes while she was gone the past three days. Alas, they didn¡¯t have the time to spare, and Raya knew it. The seniors knew it. She squeezed her eyes shut and clenched her arms so tightly around Amula¡¯s neck as the seniors leapt off the side of the hill. If she didn¡¯t know her voice was going to crack the moment she tried saying something, she would¡¯ve asked Amula just where, exactly, they were planning on landing¡­ but at this point, she was too exhausted to care. So when Amula crashed feet-first through the roof of a building and landed on the bounciest sofa she¡¯d ever seen, it was like everything that¡¯d happened in the past ten seconds was all just a fleeting dream¡ªshe couldn¡¯t immediately piece together the events that went from her being in her house ten seconds ago, to now being in a completely different building she didn¡¯t quite recognise. ¡­ But did she recognise this place? It wasn''t just the flowery decor, the stained windows with a nice view of the Old District outside, or the massive common area in front of her worthy of rivalling the auditorium in the council hall¡ªthe room may be dark right now, but as Amula skipped off the sofa to flick on the firefly lamps, she saw the numerous coloured drawings nailed to the walls, the toy blocks and dolls left scattered across the floor. Small hedges and potted plants kept the air fresh and minty, overpowering the foul scents of the sea of insect carcasses just beyond the balconies. A smattering of benches and tables and other soft cushions gave the room a warm, gentle look, and it was only when she saw the chalk drawing pinned on the wall behind her that she realised where they''d landed. This is¡­ The Alshifa Orphanage? Slowly, tentatively, she plucked the drawing off the wall and noted the two dozen or so stick-figure children arranged in a wide circle, all of them holding each other¡¯s hands. She didn¡¯t need to read the messily written names above everyone¡¯s heads to tell who was who. The twin sisters were throwing their arms up, the boy balancing a flute on his head was lurking off to the side, the two other boys were kicking and scowling at each other with thickly drawn eyebrows; now things were starting to click in her head, and now she felt she finally understood what Issam had always meant when he said he ¡®lived close¡¯ to her. How had she never known? How had she never asked? That all six of them had been living under her this entire time, and to think they were all¨C ¡°We¡¯re stayin¡¯ the night here,¡± Amula said, glancing at Jerie climbing down through the broken ceiling as she continued flicking the firefly lamps around the room. ¡°I¡¯ve no idea if Raya will make it through, but assumin¡¯ he does manage to lead the Swarm away, we¡¯ll be safe in here. Probably. Be quiet, eat and drink your fill, and we¡¯ll set off back for the shelter tomorrow mornin¡¯. If we¡¯re lucky, maybe he¡¯ll even be back earlier than us.¡± ¡°...¡± ¡°... And what are ye starin¡¯ at?¡± Amula tossed a wad of blankets at her from across the room, smacking her back against the sofa. It was neither the smoothest nor thinnest of blankets, but perhaps that was the point¡ªby the time she managed to claw it off her face and attempted swinging her feet of the sofa, intent on helping the seniors tend to their wounds, Amula had already sped over to her with a nasty flick aimed at her forehead. She reeled back, tensing the muscles in her neck, bracing for a hard impact; the flick never came, and Amula simply pushed her head into the armrest while pulling her legs back up onto the sofa, sticking a wet bandage roll over her bleeding eye. ¡°Yer useless right now,¡± Amula mumbled, drawing the blanket up to her neck and throwing her a hand-sewn plush in the same motion. ¡°I¡¯ll leave some food on the table if ye get hungry in the middle of the night. Bathroom¡¯s in the hallway to the right. If the room¡¯s too bright, then pack up and move yer blanket to the sofa in the hallway to the left. There¡¯s no windows there, so the ventilation will suck, but ye can also just carve a hole in the wall with yer chisel. The boards are very thin here.¡± She gulped hard, shaking the plush off her face. ¡°But your¡­ your toes. Jerie¡¯s skin. Injured. I should¡­ I should take a look¨C¡± Jerie loomed over the armrest, whacking her on the head once with his flute, and Amula kicked another plush into her face before making her hug it this time. ¡°Don¡¯t try to distract yerself by doin¡¯ somethin¡¯ you¡¯re good at,¡± Amula said, a tone of quiet knowing in her voice as she walked away. ¡°Ye have things ye need to work through, and ye have things ye need to feel. Ye know that. Ye feel it. So just feel it, and just rest. ¡°Don¡¯t run away from it.¡± ¡­ So she stayed on the sofa, hands fumbling under her blanket for a piece of candy in her pocket. She managed to find one without the seniors noticing, but then she felt something inside her chest cracking again, just like the bloodberry candy she popped into her mouth¡ªand the memories of the past hour flooded back into her head, just like a roaring tide bursting through a poorly constructed dam. Ten seconds. She couldn¡¯t even last ten seconds before she covered her face with her blanket, expelling her breaths as quiet, choking sobs. If the seniors thought she was pathetic, they didn¡¯t say it aloud. They left her alone with her thoughts, and she cried under her blanket until her body could stay awake no longer. Chapter 24 - The Alshifa Orphanage Dahlia wakes with a startled flail, tipping over in her chair. Her head bounces off the floor. The scalpel and chisel she¡¯d strapped around her wrists fly off and nearly stab into her eyes. Outside, in the living room, her father is awake and prowling¡ªshe can see his shadow lumbering around through the slit under the bedroom door, and she clamps her hands over her mouth, refusing to breathe. This is a nightmare again. This isn¡¯t real. Her father doesn¡¯t have four arms, two antennae, and a needle for a tongue. He isn¡¯t a bug. So she stays on the ground, eyes squeezed shut, clutching her knees to her chest until the sun rises¡ªher father stops walking around and returns to lying down on the living room sofa. ¡­ ¡­ The nightmare is over. Time for Bug-Slaying School again. - Scene from Sina Household past
¡­ Tonight, Dahlia didn¡¯t have a dream. She didn¡¯t have a nightmare. When her eyelids fluttered open and she found her hands still pressing the wad of bandages over her left eye, the only thing she felt was hunger, and her throat screaming out for water. The night was still dark out, moonlight still bright over the hole in the ceiling. Her blanket and mantle and chestplate and bracers were heavy on her body, but the moment she tried to sit up straight, she discovered it was really just the blanket¡ªher limbs, for the most part, had regained their strength over however many hours she¡¯d spent passed out on the sofa. The gnawing aches in her chest were also gone, or at the very least, they¡¯d changed in nature. While before they¡¯d been unbearable like daggers ripping through her heart, things were much less¡­ cloudy, now. She could think more or less as well as her usual, and when she even managed to formulate a complete thought in her head, trying to remember what¡¯d happened¨C [There is bread and water on the table, nine steps in front of you. Be careful not to step on the few pieces of shrapnel Amula failed to clean during your crash landing into the orphanage.] The last thing she wanted to hear was Eria¡¯s voice, but she couldn¡¯t deny it was just a little comforting hearing a familiar voice rather than an unfamiliar one. She was still alive. She was still Dahlia Sina. She had yet to turn into a giant black bug herself. ¡­ Thank you, Eria. I¡¯m¡­ I¡¯m sure you have a lot of things you want to ask, but¨C [First, fill your stomach and quench your thirst.] [In truth, now that I have full access to all of your memories, I have very little I want to ask.] [Please take better care of yourself.] ¡­ There wasn''t anything she could say to that, so she mumbled and practically rolled off the sofa in the same instant; thankfully she didn''t land on anything sharp, but her muscles still ached a fair bit and her legs felt like jelly. Hesitantly, she thought about just toughing out her growling stomach until morning, but seeing the hard bread sitting on the dimly lit table just a few steps in front of her made her feel even more hungry¡ªso she drew to her feet, prying the sticky bandage off her left eye so she wouldn¡¯t have to hold onto it forever. She blinked. Her vision was still intact. Now, the logical part of her wanted to sit back down and tend to the scar properly¡ªsurely there were plenty of medicinal equipment in the orphanage to at least deal with a small wound¡ªbut the moment she got close to the table, her bristles tingled with the ¡®taste¡¯ of bread. She couldn¡¯t stop herself from sitting on the table, devouring everything the seniors had left out for her. ¡®Bland¡¯ was the word she¡¯d used to describe the mixture of bread and water mixing in her mouth, but¡­ she was more hungry than she realised. Not that she would¡¯ve complained either way. ¡­ Where are the two of them, anyways? As she ate, she stole a few glances about the giant common area and spotted no sleeping Amula, no meditating Jerie. The only firefly lamps that were lit were the ones around her sofa. Eria probably would¡¯ve injected her with something to enhance her vision if she hadn¡¯t preemptively put a stop to that; now wasn¡¯t a good time for her to be feeling extra awake. If she could have it, she¡¯d finish her late-night meal and just roll right back over to sleep, but, at the same time¡­ she wondered if the open balcony doors at the end of the room meant something. Curiosity and worry in equal parts got the better of her, so once she swallowed her last gulp of bread, she made her way over to the balcony. A few furtive glances left and right, peeking her head out through the doorway, and she spotted the seniors sitting side-by-side on the tiled roofs with their legs dangling off the edge. Their backs were turned towards her, they weren¡¯t talking or doing anything. Both of them held a single bottle of what seemed like alcohol in their hands. She peered past them and bit her lips, noting they were actually three storeys above the streets¡ªpaltry heights compared to the fifty metre cliffs she¡¯d leaped off twice by now, but seeing the ground so far below still sent chills down her spine. Maybe she shouldn¡¯t be out here. Maybe the seniors just wanted some time to themselves. Maybe she¡¯d be better off just pretending she hadn¡¯t seen anything¨C ¡°If yer not going to sleep, then just come out here and sit already.¡± Jerie turned and waved his bottle at her, beckoning her to sit with them. She was hesitant at first, wondering if she might just slide off the tiles and down to her death, but another irritated click of a tongue from Amula made her move¡ªno more than ten seconds later she was already hugging her knees between the two of them, shivering slightly as a gust of cool wind rolled across the undertown. ¡®Wind¡¯. It was something new to her as well. A simple hole in the ceiling had really changed everything. Now there was sunlight during the day and moonlight during the night. They didn¡¯t really need a firefly cage to clearly see every nook and cranny of the undertown sprawled out in front of them. Her eyes weren¡¯t used to the bluish-white tints of moonlight, when all everyone ever knew in Alshifa was the harsh orange glow they could get from fireflies or fiercely lit braziers. Suddenly, there was a screech in the far distance. She reeled on instinct, but Amula and Jerie didn¡¯t react. Evidently they¡¯d been listening to the lightning hornet scream its lungs out the entire night and got used to it already¡ªso she clenched her throat and tried her best to ignore it, too. ¡°... Sorry I¡¯m being so¡­ troublesome,¡± she mumbled, burying her face in her knees as she pulled her mantle in, hugging herself. ¡°I¡¯ll¡­ I¡¯ll be fine tomorrow morning. Confident. We can also stop here and there on our way back, and I can¡­ scrounge for insect parts. To bring back to shelter. I want to make¨C¡± ¡°Family is family,¡± Amula said, taking a swig from her bottle as she did. ¡°It¡¯s not wrong or troublesome to feel bad when a family member passes away. If anyone tells ye it is, then beat them to an inch of their life and show them how troublesome it is to live without bein¡¯ able to walk.¡± Jerie snorted at that, and the seniors clinked their bottles over her shoulder before taking another synchronised swig. She peeked between the two and fidgeted a little. They were supposed to be just a year older than her, weren¡¯t they? Curiosity got the better of her again. ¡°Um¡­ are the two of you¨C¡± ¡°Fifteen? Yes.¡± ¡°And¨C¡± ¡°Been livin¡¯ here with Jerie, Issam, Raya, the twins, and most of our classmates since we were five,¡± Amula said, plucking the exact question out of her mind and answering them before she could even ask. ¡°It was that small-scale Swarm infestation a decade ago. I¡¯m sure you know about it. A bunch of giant black bugs crawled into Alshifa through the Northern Bawu Tunnel, and it took just about every last bug-slayer workin¡¯ together to suppress them. Lots of people still died back then, though¡ªplenty of parents with kids now left with nowhere to go.¡± She lowered her gaze at the mention of the Bawu Tunnel Infestation; she¡¯d learned all about it in General School, and about how most of her dad¡¯s friends had died on the frontlines back then. Classmates. Colleagues. He was already a doctor during the incident, but because she¡¯d just been born and needed tending to, he¡¯d been nowhere close to the Old District while doing his work treating the wounded. Even still, she distinctly remembered seeing the total death count¡ªas recorded in his doctor¡¯s journal she¡¯d stolen a few peeks at over the past few years¡ªnumbering up to five hundred at the end of the three-day siege. Granted, it wasn¡¯t nearly as cataclysmic an infestation as the one they were currently living through, but it¡¯d resulted in the northern tunnel being completely caved in to prevent further infestations from that direction, leaving only the Southern Luwu Tunnels open for trade and communication with the neighbouring undertowns. And it¡¯d also resulted in her being able to meet Issam down here, in the ravaged Old District where the orphanage was. ¡°... Oh, cheer up. We hardly knew our parents,¡± Amula grumbled, whacking her on the back of her head and making her jolt. ¡°As far as we care, all of us orphans are siblins¡¯, and the misters and madams of the orphanage are our real parents¡­ as well as the nice adults who come by every so often to give us all a few hundred coins in donations. Blood ain¡¯t everything. The candy sticks Doctor Sanyon always brought us at the end of every week were much sweeter than any blood could manage, even though he started gettin¡¯ really stingy with them once we all enrolled into the Bug-Slayin¡¯ School. Didn¡¯t want us to get fat, I suppose. Like that could¡¯ve happened with how hard Biem was hittin¡¯ us daily.¡± Jerie snickered, exhaling through his nose, and even Dahlia managed to smile a little; it sounded just like her dad to worry about their health even though he himself was a glutton for sweets. ¡°Did my dad¡­ tell you all to go to the Bug-Slaying School?¡± she asked, with a small tilt of her head. ¡°I don¡¯t see why you¡¯d all¡­ enrol in the same year, otherwise. And I thought Issam and Raya were transfers from the General School. Why¡¯d you all suddenly decide to be together?¡± Amula sent her a puzzled frown in return. ¡°Because we are children of the Alshifa Orphanage, and ninety percent of all graduated bug-slayers in the past four decades have come from this place. Who better than children whose parents were slain by the Swarm to pick up arms and avenge their deaths?¡± ¡°... Oh.¡± ¡°And Issam and Raya were transfers from the General School, yeah,¡± Amula continued, nodding pensively. ¡°While all of us were trainin¡¯ in the foundation year¡ªthe year before the first year, which was when you joined¡ªIssam had wanted to be a chef, and Raya had wanted to be a doctor. They weren¡¯t doin¡¯ any good in General School, though, and since their principal saw they had a knack for fighting, he had them transferred back over to the Bug-Slayin¡¯ School with the rest of us.¡± Her head shot up to blink at Amula immediately. ¡°A chef? A doctor? Are you talking about the same Issam and Raya here? They still can¡¯t¨C¡± ¡°Pick up a book and just read, yes, but they wanted to give it a try regardless.¡± Amula responded with a curt laugh before shaking her head, looking tiredly down herself. ¡°You know, the two of them were the only ones who had something they wanted to do. Great Makers know I never had anything in particular I wanted to do other than bug-slayin¡¯. Jerie, too¡ªwe¡¯re about as indecisive as we could be.¡± ¡°Thweep!¡± was the only soft note that Jerie blew into his flute, as though saying ¡®we are good at what we do, though¡¯. ¡°Hah. Yer right about that, I guess. We are good at bug-slayin¡¯, if we do say so ourselves¨C¡± The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°But, then¡­ why did the two of you stay behind an entire year?¡± Dahlia asked, and Amula¡¯s expression turned cold and distant. ¡°You guys are strong. Like, really really strong. Incredible. Was it a written test you couldn¡¯t pass? Or a super difficult challenge Instructor Biem gave to only the two of you that you couldn¡¯t¨C¡± ¡°My older brother, who was sent to the orphanage with me back when I was five and he was nine, used to wear bombardier beetle boots as well.¡± ¡°...¡± Amula paused. Jerie closed his eyes. The seniors¡¯ expressions were troubled, and Dahlia knew she¡¯d strayed into a topic an outsider should very well not stray into¡ªbut it was only another moment later that Amula shifted where she sat, going cross-legged so she could give Dahlia a proper look at her beetle boots. ¡°My brother enrolled and graduated from the Bug-Slayin¡¯ School four years earlier than me, so he always had his pair of Swarmsteel with him, and because he was also a top graduate of his class, the instructors turned a blind eye to him holdin¡¯ onto a few extra Swarmsteel outside of usual training hours,¡± she said, as she ruffled the elytra on the side of her boots and flicked them with her finger. ¡°Since I was goin¡¯ to be a bug-slayer just like him, he gave me an identical pair of his boots while Jerie¡ªI¡¯d been friends with him for a long time, since both our parents apparently knew each other before their deaths¡ªgot a hold of the cicada flute. We were allowed to train with our Swarmsteel on our off-days so we could graduate top of the class as well, just like my brother had. ¡°Remember these roofs, Jerie? ¡°Brother used to make me chase him across the Old District while you also tried to intercept him with yer music, and the misters and madams of the orphanage would just complain and complain about us being too noisy¡ªwe never did manage to stop brother once, did we?¡± A faint ¡®thweep¡¯ was Jerie¡¯s note of response as he shook his head, a warm and wistful smile tugging on the corner of his lips. Amula looked crestfallen for another second before looking up at Dahlia. ¡°Good brother. Good man. I¡¯m sure ye have seen him once or twice. He said he frequented Doctor Sanyon quite often because of leg cramps, but I guess ye wouldn¡¯t remember every patient that walked into yer house, huh?¡± ¡°...¡± ¡°It was last year when the three of us were training on the cliffs behind this orphanage,¡± Amula said, thumbing back at the hill they¡¯d leaped down from without looking, her eyes closing. ¡°Me and Jerie were in our fifth and final year of Bug-Slayin¡¯ School, and were slated to graduate at the top of our class. The two of us wanted to get some extra trainin¡¯ done before our final test, so we asked my brother to let us chase him just one more time, just across the cliffs in the middle of the night so we don¡¯t disturb anyone¡­ it was just so we¡¯d be warmed up the next mornin¡¯ just in case we actually had to fight a giant insect the Instructors brought in from another undertown, you know? ¡°But I guess I should¡¯ve known we¡¯d been pushin¡¯ my brother a little too hard, and that ¡®little bit¡¯ is all it takes for someone to slip and fall.¡± Dahlia¡¯s breath caught as Amula¡¯s thumb remained frozen, pointing at the back of the orphanage, and Jerie was just as quiet. Both of them remained silent for a long time, their mouths grim. ¡°It was¡­ quick, really,¡± Amula mumbled. I don¡¯t think he suffered. It was a thirty metre fall off the rocks, onto the edge of the roof, and then straight down to the ground. With how exhausted he¡¯d been even before we nagged him to train us in the middle of the night, I hardly doubt he noticed he was losin¡¯ his balance while running and jumping across the cliffs. ¡°But still, I¡­ ¡°... ¡°... We took a year off, is what I want to say,¡± Amula finished with a small shake of her head, her brows slowly unknitting, her eyes slowly opening. ¡°I killed my brother, and he died an ugly death, so I know how it feels. That''s why Jerie and I take our Swarmsteel off and leave it in the armoury after every day. People tell me it was an accident and I shouldn¡¯t hold onto it for too long, but I killed him with my Swarmsteel, and I can¡¯t run away from that. ¡°If I want to live, I have to be better than he ever was. ¡°I have to run faster, jump higher, kick harder, endure tougher and tougher falls, and get used to the pain of taking off my Swarmsteel every single day¡ªso when ye told Issam back at the shelter that ye wanted to check on Doctor Sanyon even though the entire undertown¡¯s been overrun, and when ye still wanted to keep going even after that horrific crash-landin¡¯ in the garden, I thought¡­ maybe yer not so different from me after all. ¡°Ye have seen death, so ye won¡¯t run away. Ye have felt pain, so ye won''t clench your fists. Yer not spineless. And ye will strive to make every death a good one. ¡°That¡¯s why ye dressed Instructor Biem up on his deathbed, right? ¡°I would¡¯ve done the same.¡± ¡°The only difference between me and ye was¡­ well, ye still had a chance to save your dad. ¡°So I had to help.¡± Jerie finished with a little nod, humming in agreement, and then the seniors were silent once again. They took their swig of alcohol, averted their gaze from hers¡ªso she drew a deep breath and kicked her legs out, letting her feet dangle off the edge. Just like the two of them. ¡°... My mom, Eria, didn¡¯t really die of a ¡®virulent disease¡¯.¡± The seniors kept drinking. The lightning hornet kept screeching in the far distance. She didn¡¯t stop talking. ¡°I¡¯m sure, one way or the other, you¡¯ve¡­ heard the story,¡± she continued, eyes slanted, staring at the bloody street far below. ¡°My mom caught something dangerously infectious and died in the middle of the night, all of a sudden, and my dad had to bury her to prevent the disease from spreading. Then he stopped working for two years because he couldn¡¯t pick himself up again. ¡°That¡¯s¡­ not right. ¡°My mom was sick, but it wasn¡¯t¡­ a disease. ¡°She had a compulsion where she had to eat bugs every so often, and if she didn¡¯t she¡¯d get all itchy and irritated.¡± Amula¡¯s ears perked, and she caught Jerie peeking at her from the corner of his eyes. ¡°I didn¡¯t think¨C I didn¡¯t know it was such a big deal at the time, since my dad always managed to buy her a few crickets or beetles to chew on. I thought it was just a¡­ habit. A tick she couldn¡¯t get rid of,¡± she mumbled, grinding her teeth as she did. ¡°But I knew she¡¯d been eating more and more bugs as the years went on. She¡¯d sneak out of bed in the middle of the night to dig through the trash, crawl through the fields; all for a single bug to nibble on. She couldn¡¯t stop herself. It was... a type of compulsion. Addiction. She couldn¡¯t control it. My dad was a doctor, so he drank her blood and gave himself the same compulsion in an attempt to run more tests, hoping he could find a cure by using himself as a test subject, but... ¡°Eventually, my mom went too far with it. ¡°Two years ago she must¡¯ve eaten one too many bugs in a small period of time, and she turned into¡­ what my dad turned into just up there. ¡°My dad killed her to protect me, and he made me promise not to tell anyone about it. Nobody would question him if I didn¡¯t say anything. Secrecy. He was the genius doctor, my mom was an outsider, someone getting addicted to eating bugs is completely unheard of¡ªit¡¯d be dangerous if people knew eating insects would eventually turn them into half-insects themselves. There¡¯d be people who want to try and mutate themselves to get stronger, and¡­ that¡¯s not something dad wanted. ¡°A few days after he killed my mom, he started showing signs of mutating, too. He couldn''t develop a cure for the compulsion fast enough, but he never truly gave up, so I kept his mutations a secret while he¡¯s been slowly losing his mind while continuing his research the past two years. To talk to him, I had to¡­ dumb down my speech. A little. Speak in short fragments. Short words. Otherwise he won¡¯t even understand me, and if we can¡¯t talk, if we can¡¯t share information, then I can¡¯t¡­ I can¡¯t find a cure for him in case he failed, too.¡± Her voice was more heavy with emotion than she liked, but once her final words rolled off her tongue, her body also felt a lot lighter than before she¡¯d started. She¡¯d said everything important she had to say. There was nothing left for her to hide. Her past, her fears, her inability to put even a bite of insect flesh into her mouth¡ªnot only did the seniors know all about her now, she¡¯d also said everything out loud for Eria to hear. Now, there were no more secrets between her and her little assistant. ¡°... Well, ye had it tough too, huh?¡± A ¡®thweep¡¯ of solidarity was Jerie note of his choice, and Amula started patting her on the head with a wide smile on her face. Of course, there were still many questions they asked that she didn¡¯t have the answers to¡ªquestions like who her mom was, where her compulsion came from, why it took her so long to lose her humanity, and how the exact transformation happened¡ªbut they probably weren¡¯t expecting much from her in that regard from the very beginning, and it showed with how quickly they gave up on interrogating her. After all, the only things she did understand about her mom¡¯s compulsion was what little her dad had written about it in his doctor¡¯s journal, which she¡¯d discovered about a year back while cleaning out the bedroom. There wasn¡¯t a lot of useful information in it; the only important detail she remembered was the fact that her mom was likely an outsider from the surface, and her dad only succumbed to the same compulsion because he¡¯d forced himself to eat insects just to carry out dangerous experimental treatments on his own body. So long as nobody else in Alshifa was hungry or desperate or insane enough to consume insects, nobody would mutate uncontrollably again. ¡°... Yer goin¡¯ to tell Issam about this once we get back, right?¡± Amula asked, once Dahlia¡¯s eyes started spinning and her head started lolling about from all the questioning. ¡°Don''t tell me yer goin¡¯ to keep it from him and the twins. Ye can trust them. They won¡¯t tell anyone else if ye just tell them to keep it quiet¡­ unless ye have already told Issam and he was just pretendin¡¯ not to know. That¡¯s probably the case, yeah?¡± She paused. Tilted her head, pursed her lips. ¡°Why¡­ would I have told Issam about this?¡± she asked. ¡°Because he likes ye?¡± ¡°Huh?¡± A soft, keening ¡®thweep¡¯ dribbled out from Jerie¡¯s flute, and Amula shook her head in dismay as she held her bottle of alcohol out at Dahlia. ¡°Issam¡¯s strong, but I think even his knees will crumble if ye tell him ye want to walk around with him for ten minutes doin¡¯ utterly nothin¡¯ of note,¡± the senior grumbled, forcing her to take the bottle before patting her head once again. ¡°Ye know, yer the same age as him, ten times as smart, but I guess yer still clueless after all. At times like these, Doctor Sanyon always said ye should just drink yer pride away¡ªye will wake up havin¡¯ made a decision ye can¡¯t take back that way, and that means ye can start changin¡¯ as a person once again.¡± Dahlia blinked. ¡°I¡­ uh, I don¡¯t think dad ever said that,¡± she said, hesitatingly, as she raised the bottle to her lips and frowned at the smell of it. ¡°This isn¡¯t alcohol, by the way. It¡¯s just¡­ juice? It¡¯s grape juice. Fruit. It even has the purple¨C¡± ¡°It¡¯s alcohol,¡± Amula said, nodding confidently. ¡°Don¡¯t be scared of it. All adults have to drink eventually, so Doctor Sanyon always said it¡¯s better to start gettin¡¯ used to it early than not. I don¡¯t know what¡¯s so hard about gettin¡¯ used to it, though. Alcohol tastes pretty good. Right, Jerie?¡± Jerie smacked his lips and chortled, taking another large swig of his bottle. Amula reached far behind her into an open satchel to pop open another bottle¡ªand now that Dahlia could see the orphanage¡¯s label glued around the bottle, she figured there wouldn¡¯t really be any harm in drinking ¡®alcohol¡¯ with the seniors right now. She liked sweet things. The lightning hornet¡¯s faint screeches in the far distance were a little jarring, sure, but for however long she spent trying to hold in her laughs while drinking with the seniors, under cold moonlight¡­ she almost felt as though tonight was just a normal night out with her friends. ¡­ This is all I know, Eria. This is everything I have. Now, do you know, exactly, what insect class I am best suited for? It took Eria a while to respond. [... I do.] [To be upfront with you, I already had my suspicions since you dismantled the pine sawyer beetle, and seeing the bug your father half-transformed into¡ªthe same bug your mother had transformed into, owing to his consuming her blood and you being descended from her¡ªhas all but confirmed my suspicions. There is only one insect class I can assign to you based on your mother''s bloodline.] [According to my database, however, the insect your class is based on should have been made extinct forty years ago, before the first Altered Swarmsteel System was even developed.] [Should I assign you your insect class, you will be the only human in the entire world in possession of it.] ¡­ [However, considering your history and your allergy to consuming insect flesh, perhaps¡­ there is no reason for me to assign you your insect class.] She didn¡¯t blink. Why not? [Because the mutations you can unlock by having an insect class can only be unlocked via points,] Eria explained. [The attribute levels provided by Swarmsteel will be taken away once the Swarmsteel is removed, but power gained from allocating your points will never leave you. Therefore, if you spend the rest of your life never consuming a single insect¡ªby extension, never gaining a single point¡ªnothing will come out of having your insect class assigned. I will still be able to provide you with knowledge you may not have access to, but the other half of my capabilities will become obsolete. Without being able to consume insect flesh and gaining points, you will not be able to interact with your mutation tree, which allows you to pick and choose your mutations as you gain more and more points.] [If that is the case, then¡­] [...] [... I will support you, Dahlia Sina, in growing stronger only using Swarmsteel.] [It will not be an easy path. Your strain is already nearing half of your limit purely by your equipped Swarmsteel alone, but I¡­ I can see your will, too.] [You do not wish to keep me around for the rest of your life, do you?] She didn¡¯t hesitate. I don¡¯t. That¡¯s why this strain¡­ these attributes¡­ these insect classes... they don¡¯t really mean anything to me. I¡¯ll get as strong as I need to beat the lightning hornet, and then I¡¯m going to try to make a seal over the hole in the ceiling. If the Swarm can¡¯t come down here again, I won¡¯t have any need for more power, right? [... That is correct.] [If you can seal the hole and reinforce the rest of the ceiling as well, then the likelihood of another Swarm cocoon smashing into Alshifa will be nearly zero. The surviving townsfolk will not have to worry about an infestation of this scale ever again.] [Now, unless your strain reaches one hundred percent, you will not be debilitated to the brink of death¡ªso I shall support you until you defeat the lightning hornet, and you will do that without consuming insect flesh, relying only on your Swarmsteel.] [Afterwards, you can discard me alongside the rest of your Swarmsteel, and free yourself from the burden of your Swarmsteel strain.] [How does this proposal sound?] While Amula and Jerie patted her head once more, chuckling about some old story involving Issam and Raya and the twins while they were still children in the orphanage, their cheeks flushed red from the ¡®alcohol¡¯¡ªshe dipped her head slowly and let a small smile take her face. ¡­ Thank you, Eria. For being so patient with me. Mom and dad would¡¯ve loved to dismantle you just to see how, exactly, you function. The little black bug on her shoulder shuddered. [I would rather not be dismantled, but I understand the sentiment.] [Now, please enjoy the rest of your night with your friends.] [I will have you make and equip enough Swarmsteel tomorrow to push your body to the brink of death.] Chapter 25 - Return By the time the sun rose on Alshifa¡¯s third morning of invasion, Dahlia was already all packed-up and ready to return to the shelter. Her head was a bit heavy on her neck as she practically staggered out through the front door¡ªshe¡¯d ended up staying awake for far too long last night drinking with the seniors¡ªbut the seniors themselves were tough as beetles, not a hint of weariness on their faces as they locked the door behind them with a metal bar. It turned out that while she¡¯d been sleeping all night long, Jerie had made several dozen paper signs they could plaster all over the streets for unaware survivors like Instructor Biem¡¯s children to figure out where they had to go. Amula, on the other hand, had spent most of the night gathering random insect parts off the Old District to bring back with them; her efforts meant Dahlia would have lots of materials to work with once they were safe and sound, making sure every fighter in the shelter would be adequately prepared for the final battle laying ahead of them. Namely, the lightning hornet in the Night Bazaar had to fall. [... I do wonder why the Old District is so quiet right now, though,] Eria murmured, as the three of them nodded at each other before setting off for the south, sticking close to the sides of the streets as they did. [I am detecting no life signals in the nearby vicinity with your bristles. Did the hornet recall all of them so it could send them out on a mission? That sounds unlikely, given that Mutant does not appear to be intelligent enough to realise it could just walk and act on its own without relying on its brood, let alone commanding its brood to act on its behalf. Perhaps all the insects in this district are being distracted by something?] Raya. [He is talented, to be sure, but frankly speaking I do not think even he can survive jumping into a massive Swarm the way he did,] Eria said plainly. [Most likely, he has already perished. Perhaps the bugs are feasting on his nourishing body. That would certainly be an explanation for why it is so quiet¨C] Raya¡¯s fine. I know it. I feel it. He¡¯s the ¡®Godsent Talent¡¯, after all. [... Even on the surface, amongst the strongest of the strong, I cannot imagine¨C] ¡°Well, don''t leave us out of your conversation,¡± Amula grumbled, draping an arm across her shoulders while Jerie looked left and right, relaxing with a sigh as well. ¡°Don''t think there are any giant bugs around here for some reason. Maybe Raya did pull his distractin¡¯ tactics off, huh?¡± She sent the senior a small smile, nose twitching from the sharp scent of ¡®alcohol¡¯ being breathed into her face. ¡°I''d¡­ like to hope so, too. The voice in my head is also saying it''s strange. Normally there should be a lot more bugs around, so-¡± ¡°So it''s lookin¡¯ like a calm and quiet two-hour walk back to the shelter, provided we don''t be reckless and start trippin¡¯ over every egg sac in our way,¡± Amula finished, waving for Jerie to come in closer so they were all walking shoulder by shoulder. ¡°In that case, start spillin¡¯. What''s that voice in your head got to say about anythin¡¯ interesting? That ¡®system¡¯ thing¡­ it''s basically a Swarmsteel developed for war on the surface, ain¡¯t it?¡± ¡°Ah¡­¡± she trailed off, looking worriedly over to Eria sitting on her shoulder as she did. Eria waved two of her legs as though to say ¡®do what you will¡¯. Then I''ll start relaying your words to the two of them, if you don''t¡­ mind. [I do not,] Eria said promptly, and Dahlia opened her mouth to start repeating its thoughts word for word. [I was just telling Dahlia it is unlikely Raya is still alive¨C] ¡°He''s a cockroach is what he is.¡± Amula dismissed Eria''s concerns with a casual wave, shrugging nonchalantly. ¡°Don''t worry about him. He¡¯ll pop out of a crack in the ground soon enough, and then he¡¯ll make ye feel stupid to ever have doubted his ability to not die in the first place. I don''t care about him. Ye got any useful information on takin¡¯ down the lightning hornet?¡± [... I was also just telling Dahlia how, amongst the strongest of the strong on the surface, it is unlikely anyone can dance circles around a Mutant''s brood for long periods of time without enraging it. If the lightning hornet has not yet made a single move, it means Raya is most likely dead.] Jerie whistled, and Amula backed him up with a defiant shake of her head. ¡°Raya¡¯s fine. Just trust me on that. Now, what''s that about the strongest of the strong on the surface? So there are lots of people fightin¡¯ back on the surface?¡± [Many,] Eria said plainly. [I am unsure what the children of the undertowns are taught, but while the Swarm most certainly controls the majority of the surface world, they do not ¡®rule¡¯ over it in a conventional sense¡ªthis has allowed many small factions to survive and propagate all across humanity¡¯s final continent.] ¡°How many people are we talking about here?¡± [Speaking in raw numbers, the Archive of Altered Swarmsteel Systems estimates around ten million humans across the entire continent.] Dahlia''s eye was already wide open before she even repeated Eria''s statistics out loud, and the seniors¡¯ surprised expressions weren''t unwarranted, either. ¡°Three thousand people in Alshifa¡­ so that''s three zeros¡­¡± Amula mumbled, as Jerie started counting his fingers and Dahlia kept on blinking, trying to imagine how big a number ten million really was. ¡°Ye mean the surface world isn''t completely dead, then. Ten million is a lot of people, right? Then how haven''t we¨C¡± [Speaking in raw numbers, the Archive of Altered Swarmsteel Systems estimate around thirty billion insects across the entire continent, a third of which being giant insects like the ones that have invaded Alshifa,] Eria continued, not missing a beat, [and around zero-point-one percent of that fraction being Mutants. Amongst the one million Mutants, there are seven of them humanity is currently leading great wars against¡ªtherefore, if humanity wishes to retake the surface world, every man, woman, and child would have to be able to slay at least one Mutant on their own.] ¡°... Oh,¡± Dahlia breathed. ¡°Thweep!¡± Jerie blew. ¡°So we''re not winning, then,¡± Amula muttered, frowning in dismay. ¡°Just how strong is the Swarm on the surface, anyways? Are all the Mutants up there as strong as that lightning hornet down here?¡± Eria crossed its legs, though nobody but Dahlia could see it do so anyways. [The Swarm surrounds humanity¡¯s final continent from every conceivable direction, their forces concentrated across seven major fronts¡ªthe surface world regards them as the Seven Swarmsteel Fronts, the bastions of the continent. If any one of them were to fall, it would spell the end for humanity. Even you children of Alshifa would not be spared from the sheer weight of their bodies crawling across the surface.] The three of them shuddered as they left the Old District behind, still having not come in contact with a single giant bug thus far. If not for Eria, Dahlia was sure they¡¯d all be teeming to the brim with anxiousness, but for now they were hyper-focused on every bit of information they were wringing out of Eria, and for her part¡­ she supposed she was interested about the surface world, too. This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. ¡°Seven Swarmsteel Fronts?¡± she asked, quietly, if only to distract themselves from the fact that the Northern Bridge Street, the Northeastern Keefa Street, and the Northeastern Burqal Street were every bit as quiet; it almost felt like they were going to walk into a trap at any moment. Eria, of course, could detect her rising heart rate. They were one. It could monitor every little thing in her body. For about ten more minutes they trudged along in complete silence, Amula glancing nervously at Dahlia glancing at Eria, wondering why it was refusing to talk¡ªbut then it jolted awake, legs shaking in place as though it¡¯d just been electrocuted by an invisible bolt of lightning. [Apologies. Retrieving the last-updated batch of information from the Archive of Altered Swarmsteel Systems took longer than I expected,] Eria said, and Dahlia repeated verbatim. Amula and Jerie both sighed breaths of relief. [You were asking what the Seven Swarmsteel Fronts were, yes? Would you like to know all of them by name?] Amula nodded. ¡°It¡¯d¡­ be good as entertainment while we walk, at the very least.¡± [Very well. Starting from the very south going clockwise around the continent, there is the Attini Empire Front¡ªdefended by the Empress and her Spore Knights, it is the southwestern fungi forest front stopping the continent from getting overrun by colossal ants. The Great Mutant of the South known as ¡®Regalia¡¯ leads its brood of five billion against the Attini Empire¡¯s three million humans. It is currently the most populous region on the continent. [Then, there is the Deepwater Legion Front¡ªdefended by the ¡®Storm Strider¡¯, the Harbour Imperators, and the Harbour Guards, it is the westernmost aquatic front stopping deepwater insects from crawling onshore. The Great Mutant of the West known as ¡®Corpsetaker¡¯ leads its brood of a billion against the shoreline of the continent.] [Further up along the coastline, there is the Plagueplain Front¡ªdefended by the ¡®Marshal of the Virulent¡¯ and his Mandellas, it is the northwestern front stopping venomous insects from sneaking past the borders. The Great Mutant of the Northwest known as ¡®Mortifera Pestilence¡¯ leads its brood of two billion against the inhabitants of the front, and all major plagues that appear on the continent are because of the Mandella¡¯s failure to eradicate them at the source. That includes the plagues and diseases you townsfolk of Alshifa face from time to time.] [In the wartorn ashlands, there is the Hellfire Caldera Front¡ªdefended by the ¡®Bloodflame General¡¯ and his Igniscale Warriors, it is the northernmost front stopping explosive and fire-based insects from razing the continent to the ground. The Great Mutant of the North known as ¡®Blue Flame¡¯ leads its brood of three billion against the Igniscale Warriors¡¯ hundred thousand, and¡­ well. The Igniscale Warriors are not known as the continent¡¯s strongest warriors for nothing.] [In the wintry plains, there is the Rampaging Hinterland Front¡ªdefended by ¡®Gigantitania¡¯ and her De Balla forces, it is the giant border wall front that runs from the top of the continent to the southeastern end of the continent. The Great Mutant of the Northeast known as ¡®Mammot¡¯ leads its colossal brood of two billion against the De Balla¡¯s giant Swarmsteel armours, and it is the only major front that has not seen a single day of rest since the Swarm descended a century ago. The De Balla do not understand the concept of sleep.] [In the sky-piercing mountains, there is the Mori Masif Front¡ªdefended by the ¡®God of Death¡¯ and her Nocturna, it is the southeastern mountain front preventing flying insects from taking over the skies of the continent. The Great Mutant of the Southeast known as ¡®Black Witch¡¯ leads its brood of two billion across the skies, and it is a major front that only sees action during the night. Because the giant insects in this front are also highly capable with camouflage and deceptive techniques, the Nocturna kill anything that moves during the night, friend and foe alike. It is perhaps the most dangerous major front for any traveller to pass through.] [Finally, there is the Genesis Glade Front¡ªdefended by the ¡®Worm God¡¯, it is less a battlefront than it is the headquarters for the bug-slaying organisation known as the Hasharana, who wander across the continent cleaning up infestations like the one Alshifa is currently suffering from. The Great Mutant of the World known as the ''Swarm Queen'' coordinates the entire rest of the fifteen billion insects against the Worm God, and while he is certainly strong enough to keep the entire continent from being immediately destroyed from within, that even hidden undertowns like Alshifa are being infested shows he is being overworked. He cannot keep watch on the entire continent alone. Regardless, he is undoubtedly humanity¡¯s strongest, rumoured to possess a hundred Swarmsteel that have kept him alive for the past four decades; you will find no more infamous a human than him on the surface.] [...] [... Do you see now, Amula?] Eria raised a leg and pointed in the general direction of the Bazaar, where the lightning hornet was, and Dahlia did the same to let the seniors know¡ªshe already knew what the little black bug was going to say before she said it out loud. [The Great Mutants and the Lesser Great Mutants on the surface command legions upon legions of giant insects to bash into the Seven Swarmsteel Fronts, and I can tell you, with a hundred percent certainty, that the weakest Mutant under their command can easily eviscerate that lightning hornet in the distance.] [You, children of Alshifa, are moths with your wings clipped off.] [That is why I will support Dahlia if she wishes to attempt sealing the hole in the ceiling.] [Even if all of you were to venture to the surface, it is a statistical improbability that any one of you can create great changes in the greater war against the Swarm.] [In that case, would it not be better to simply remain here and let the true soldiers¡­ do their¡­ part¡­] [...] Eria trailed off, eyes staring off at the hole in the ceiling, and all three of them furrowed their brows at the same time. ¡°Er. Dahlia. Is yer little friend broken or somethin¡¯? Felt like it still had a few things to say.¡± ¡°I¡­ don¡¯t know what¡¯s going on, either. Eria. Eria? Are you okay?¡± ¡°Thweep!¡± ¡°Maybe the two of us can whack yer head for a little bit and then it¡¯ll work again. Doctor Sanyon used to do that with the firefly cages a lot when they refused to light up.¡± ¡°Please¡­ um, please don¡¯t hit me¨C¡± [Year One Hundred, day eight of Month Bug,] Eria said in a cold, metallic voice, and Dahlia repeated its words slowly. Something about the way it spoke sounded a little¡­ off. [By the Archive of Altered Swarmsteel Systems, records state and document a failed joint operation to eliminate the Great Mutant Beetle known as ¡®Mammot¡¯ in the Rampaging Hinterland Front. As a result of enraging the Mammot, it volleyed thirteen cocoons from the far eastern front all the way into the centre of the continent, where twelve of them landed in the Sharaji Desert and one is still currently unaccounted for.] [The Archive of Altered Swarmsteel Systems believe the missing cocoon contains a Mutant of unknown threat level, but, most likely, it has the same basic capabilities as the Great Mutant Beetle it spawned from.] [Within three to four days of its emergence from its cocoon¡ªprovided it does not exert itself too much within that timeframe¡ªit will be able to birth an entire army¡¯s worth of giant insects even without a partner.] Simultaneous blinks. Simultaneous freezes. Then there was a crack of a neck, a sharp whistle of panic, and a deep breath drawn through the nose¡ªthe three of them had been taking it easy on their way back to the shelter, but no longer. Amula threw Dahlia onto her back so she could start sprinting and jumping across the dilapidated roofs, and Jerie took the normal street route with his flute already drawn. Under normal circumstances, maybe Dahlia would¡¯ve felt a little worried Amula was quite literally soaring over multiple storeys of buildings on their mad prance back to the shelter, but this wasn¡¯t the time to worry. ¡°How long has it been since that lightnin¡¯ hornet came down here, Eria?¡± Amula snapped. [Two days and nineteen hours¨C] ¡°Alright! Hold on tight, Dahlia! I¡¯m gonna go at maximum speed!¡± The warning was too little, too late. Amula jumped onto the edge of a roof, bent her knees, and then it was like it didn¡¯t even matter that she was missing all her right toes. The two of them were a swirl of motion as they left Jerie behind in the dust, hurtling across Alshifa without a care in the world for being detected by any giant bug; even with her face buried in Amula¡¯s neck and her bristles being chafed by the winds so much they felt like they were going to tear off, she could tell not a single giant bug was going to face their way. All of them, without a doubt, were in the Southern New District¡ªand though it would¡¯ve taken them ten hours to make the return trip sneakily, it only took Amula twenty minutes of concentrated dashing and jumping to screech to a halt atop a building opposite of the shelter. The two of them immediately ducked behind a giant chimney for cover, trying to keep their ragged breaths under control as they peeked down at the New District where the ground was writhing and climbing over each other, attempting to collapse the shelter by sheer weight of mass alone. The Old District was already flooded with giant ants, and more were still streaming in through the Southern Luwu Tunnel just a hundred metres away from the shelter. Chapter 26 - Rooftop Rendezvous The Old District was already flooded with giant ants, and more were still streaming in through the Southern Luwu Tunnel just a hundred metres away from the shelter. Back when Dahlia was still in Bug-Slaying School, she¡¯d regularly frequented the library on tomes about ants¡ªthey were by far some of the more ¡®accessible¡¯ insects she could find parts of being sold in the Bazaar, and their chitin usually sold for cheap in bulk, meaning most Swarmsteel she¡¯d made in the past two years were composed of around sixty percent ant chitin and forty percent whatever else she was naming the actual Swarmsteel after. Ant chitin were much like the foundations of a building to her; they wouldn¡¯t ever stand out as the selling point in the construction of a particular Swarmsteel, but a Swarmsteel couldn¡¯t be held together without them, either. Under more relaxing and normal circumstances, seeing a small line of ants underfoot she could harvest for parts would be a dream come true for her coffers, but right now, they were a sea of writhing red. Swarming the two-storey shelter and New District Streets below, hundreds and thousands of drone ants crawled everywhere, town-rumbling vibrations running amok. Each and every single one of them were as tall as she was, the vacant red glow in their eyes giving away their voracious intentions¡ªof the sea of ants, a hundred or so were gnawing away at the robust shelter, their mandibles screeching and scratching against the hard stone surface. Three hundred chopped down the buildings on her left, three hundred more caved in the ones on her right, and the remaining formed an ebbing and flowing river transporting the raw materials harvested from the buildings back to the Southern Luwu Tunnel. There had to be more inside the tunnel, but there was just no telling how many they were actually up against. ¡°... Shit,¡± Amula hissed, scowling fiercely as she peeked over the chimney, making eye contact with a single ant before immediately ducking back under cover. ¡°When was it that we last heard the lightnin¡¯ hornet screech last night? Around two past midnight? Or three past midnight?¡± Dahlia gulped, nodding slowly. ¡°At least twelve hours, I¡­ think. That means the shelter has probably been under siege for that long already.¡± ¡°And the giant bugs that were already here in the New District to begin with? Where the hell are they?¡± ¡°Eaten by the ants that crawled in through the tunnel¡­ probably.¡± Amula cursed and stole a second peek down at the shelter, through one of the barred windows where they could still see the survivors¡¯ silhouettes moving inside. ¡°At least the shelter¡¯s still standin¡¯. If Issam and the twins made it back with their vegetables, there should be enough supplies left inside that everyone can stave off hunger for around a week or so¡­ but these ants won¡¯t leave until they¡¯ve broken in, huh? In that case, the two of us on the outside will have to¨C¡± ¡°The thirty of us on the outside will have to find a way to distract them, yes.¡± Dahlia¡¯s bristles didn¡¯t tingle. Amula didn¡¯t hear the voice until it was right behind them. They whirled at the same time to see two mantis scythes flying over the edge of the building as Issam pulled himself up, smiling at them softly before pulling the rest of his party onto the roof¡ªand they were all children, none older than thirteen, every last one of them in various states of fatigue and hunger. Dahlia¡¯s breath caught as she watched them waddle onto the roof one by one, taking their positions behind crates and chimneys and pallet stacks; had there not been enough food in the shelter for everyone to fill their stomachs after all? The twins leapt onto the roof a second later, the last of the children to arrive, and the first thing they did was throw themselves at her for a tight, neck-breaking hug. She gasped and tapped their backs, trying to get them to let go. Issam nodded at Amula with a grimace, his expression darkening as he noticed the senior¡¯s bandaged boot and the bloody scar over her left eye. ¡°... Where¡¯s Doctor Sanyon and Jerie?¡± he asked, as his mantis scythes pried the twins off her and he leaned in for a hug as well, breathing a shuddering sigh of relief. Her breath caught and she didn¡¯t hug him back immediately. ¡°I figured something would happen along the way that you¡¯d have to stay a night outside, but the ants streamed in from the Luwu Tunnel like a winter flood. Thank the Great Makers that you¡¯re still-¡± ¡°Not now,¡± Amula snapped, pulling him away by his capelets as she scanned the thirty or so children surrounding them; Dahlia finally took notice of the bug-slaying shawl draped across their torsos. ¡°Jerie¡¯s gonna be here in about ten minutes since we left him behind to rush back here, but what¡¯s up with them? Ye brought the first to fourth years up with you? Without their Swarmsteel? The hell are ye thinkin¡¯? Also, how did ye¨C¡± ¡°We were already planning on making a move to deal with the ants, but then Ayla spotted the two of you through the windows, so we decided to group with you first,¡± Aylee said, as she lay sprawled on her stomach with her hands cupped in circles around her eyes, observing the line of ants running back and forth from the Luwu Tunnel in the distance. ¡°We¡¯re not much older than most of them, by the way. It¡¯s not like we¡¯re graduates ourselves. We¡¯re barely qualified to lead them as is.¡± Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. ¡°More importantly, we trust you two to lead us, Senior Issam and Senior Amula,¡± one of the younger students said, a sharpened metal pipe clenched tightly in his hands as he nodded at the five of them. ¡°We¡¯re not fifth-years, and some of us have never picked or trained with any specific Swarmsteel, so we probably won¡¯t be able to do much damage to those bugs, but¡­ Senior Issam told us there¡¯s a strategist up here who¡¯d be able to lead us to victory. Senior ¡®Dahlia¡¯, was it?¡± Dahlia raised her head meekly. ¡°Right. Um. That¡¯s¡­ me.¡± The younger students looked her up and down, a wall of suspicious gazes, and she immediately wilted behind Amula as she frowned at Issam. ¡°Why¡¯d you¡­ tell them about me?¡± she whispered to Issam, who craned his head back to listen. ¡°I¡¯m not a strategist. False. I don¡¯t¡­ I don¡¯t know how to deal with this. What am I supposed to¨C¡± ¡°But you do know how to deal with this, don¡¯t you?¡± he said, blinking pointedly as he did. ¡°As things stand, none of us even know what ant species we¡¯re dealing with. Fighting them head-on is not an option, so our only way out is to make them leave or wander off on their own volition¡ªin that sense, you¡¯ve probably already identified their species, haven¡¯t you?¡± ¡­ She clutched her arms and stared nervously down at the sea of ants, noting the generic club-shaped heads and the reddish-black chitin¡ªnobody would fault her if she said there was just no way anyone could identify an ant species simply by looking at them, but luck would have it that Alshifa had always been plagued by small dens of this particular ant species. Most people wouldn¡¯t pay much attention to them, but her mom had always made sure to point them out whenever she came across them in the Old District. They were nesting ants with one of the most painful stings in the world, equipped with massive, forcep-like mandibles specifically evolved to deliver their pain no matter the toughness of their target¡¯s carapace. Their mandibles, after all, were some of the sharpest and sturdiest pins anyone could use for Swarmsteel. Maybe she wouldn¡¯t be exactly right on the mark, but¨C ¡°They¡¯re bullet ants,¡± she whispered, as Eria nodded on her shoulder to confirm her guess. ¡°What their exact species is¡­ isn¡¯t important. Individual ants aren¡¯t generally tough to deal with. It¡¯s dealing with the strengths and behaviour of the entire giant ant swarm that¡¯s difficult, and on that end¡­ there is a way to easily dismantle their organisation. ¡°Bullet ants don¡¯t rear backup queens in case of an emergency. ¡°That means, if the queen dies, the rest of the bullet ants will either slowly die off themselves, or they will leave in search of a new colony to merge with. ¡°Either way, if we can kill the queen, we¡¯ll¡­ win.¡± She could hear some of the younger students whispering amongst themselves, doubting the legitimacy of her claims, but Issam didn¡¯t even hesitate a beat before reaching for his sword. ¡°And you¡¯re sure if we kill the queen, the rest of them will just leave this area?¡± he asked. ¡°... Maybe,¡± she mumbled, peering at the swarm beneath her. ¡°At the end of the day, they¡¯re giant bullet ants. Maybe they don¡¯t behave like small bullet ants. I could be¡­ wrong. Uncertainty. So maybe my plan isn¡¯t¡­ the best¨C¡± ¡°Well, it¡¯s still better than our initial plan of just whittling them down one by one in a battle of attrition!¡± Ayla said, clapping her hands and smiling fiercely at the younger students in the same motion; everyone tightened their jaws and trained their eyes on her. ¡°The shelter won¡¯t just collapse under their weight, but the longer we wait and the more ants that pour into Alshifa, the harder it¡¯ll be to get them out! Therefore! We¡¯ll look for the queen and kill it, simple as that!¡± It was evident the younger students trusted Ayla and Aylee as well, because at once their expressions lightened with the brief flickers of hope in their eyes¡ªthough they were without any Swarmsteel, the simple fact that the strongest fifth-years were leading the charge was enough for them to put their faith in her shoddily drawn plan. But maybe they shouldn¡¯t. And as her eyes darted around the sea of ants beneath her, she felt more and more uncertainty flaring inside her; she had to answer for it the moment Issam and Amula turned to her for more details. ¡°So?¡± Amula said, crossing her arms and stretching her legs as she prepared to move on command. ¡°What¡¯s the queen¡¯s distinct physical traits? Can¡¯t say I was a good study in school, but I do recall Biem sayin¡¯ ant queens are generally three to four times the size of their grunt and drone counterparts. We¡¯re lookin¡¯ for a giant giant ant, right?¡± ¡°We¡¯ve been watching them from behind the windows for a while, though, and we haven¡¯t noticed anything of the sort,¡± Issam muttered, unsheathing his blade and sharpening his mantis scythes on each other; the twins and the younger students, just as well, tensed their shoulders and cracked their necks, getting rid of all the tension in their bodies. ¡°Could it be hiding somewhere, then? Inside a building or something? Or could it be in the Luwu Tunnel itself, far away from the rest of its colony? If we can pinpoint its exact location, we can hit it hard and fast all at once before¨C¡± ¡°That¡¯s¡­ um, the problem.¡± Everyone¡¯s heads shot up to glare directly at her, though instead of reacting this time she merely kept on chewing her lips, her eyes sweeping left and right across the endless sea of ants¡ªand then she managed to muster the courage to look everyone in their faces, gulping aloud. ¡°Bullet ant queens¡­ are about the same size as the normal grunts and workers. ¡°So we¡¯re probably already looking at it. ¡°We just don¡¯t know¡­ which one it is.¡± Chapter 27 - Mutant Ant ¡°Bullet ant queens¡­ are about the same size as the normal grunts and workers,¡± Dahlia said, gulping aloud. ¡°So we¡¯re probably already looking at it. We just¡­ don¡¯t know which one it is.¡± Amula¡¯s head shot down to glare at her, as though to say ¡®what the hell do ye mean they¡¯re about the same size¡¯, but they were a group numbering over thirty strong¡ªnot all of them were perfectly hidden behind cover, not all of them had the self-control to speak in hushed and controlled manners. It happened in an instant; a pair of reddish-black mandibles shot over the edge and cleaved one of the younger students in half, the ten year-old girl barely making a sound as her upper torso fell backwards into the sea of ants. ¡­ They¡¯re fast! Scatter! Then the rest of the bullet ants lunged for them, twenty or so rising over the edge all at once and snapping at their feet. Those who could jump, did. Those four younger students who¡¯d been staring at their fallen classmate in shock didn¡¯t manage to get out of the way quick enough; the ants crushed them in an instant, the sudden arrival of their attackers making the entire building collapse in on itself. Dahlia would¡¯ve died, too, had Ayla not clinched her under an elbow and leapt away, all of them scattering across completely different roofs without any form of established communication between them. It was every student for themselves. ¡°... Okay! But there has to be a way for you to identify the queen, right?¡± Ayla shouted, jerking back with a quick half-step as a group of giant ants climbed onto their roof as well, snapping at their heads. ¡°You¡¯re smart! I know you are! Think, figure something out, and we¡¯ll buy you time until you come up with a plan! Everyone who¡¯s listening¨C¡± ¡°Unfurling blossom formation!¡± Issam roared, from the roof adjacent to theirs, and everyone snapped their heads to look at him. ¡°Retreat and lead as many ants as you can away from the shelter! Once Dahlia locates the queen and I give the signal, we¡¯ll all descend and take her out at once!¡± And, in unison, it was no longer every student for themselves. Years of bug-slaying training kicked in. Those who were adept at jumping out of sticky situations grouped up with those who were strong enough to bat oversized mandibles away, teams of two evenly spread out along the wide circle of roofs with the shelter in the centre. Amula grouped with Jerie, Aylee with a younger student with a giant club for a weapon, Ayla carried Dahlia under her elbow like a sack of grains¡ªbuildings shattered and caved like glass as the giant ants pursued, but all of them knew the retreating formation by heart. Their Instructors had beat it into them. They backed away continuously from the shelter, expanding the wide circle, slowly dragging the ant swarm out and reducing their density near the shelter. Ayla herself jumped in zigzags, keeping light on her toes and evading only at the last second whenever a giant ant was about to snap off her head. Some of the other teams weren¡¯t faring so well, though; screams rang from sections of their circle formation as the youngest students failed to leap onto different roofs while carrying their partner on their shoulders. Dahlia clenched her jaw and winced away, not wanting to see them hacked to pieces as they plummeted into flooded streets below. There was no room for error for anyone. Worriedly, she cast a few glances over to Amula and Jerie to see how they were faring. In hindsight she should¡¯ve known they were probably the last team she had to concern herself over, but¡­ eventually they¡¯d run out of roofs to retreat to, and some of them would back themselves towards the lightning hornet in the Bazaar. At a rate of retreating across two roofs a minute, Ayla and herself would enter the lightning hornet¡¯s range within five minutes. ¡­ Think! Bullet ants! What makes their queen distinct from the normal grunts and drones? [If we are speaking strictly in terms of anatomical and physiological differences, there are a few traits you can look out for,] Eria said, putting up a calm front to get her to calm down as well. [Though the queen may not differ much in size compared to her normal workers, her gaster section¡ªthat is, her abdominal region¡ªwould tend to be more voluminous in order to house their ovaries. She should also be in alate form as of right now, meaning if you look very closely, you would be able to spot wings on her back¨C] She bit her tongue, shaking her head furiously as though trying to fling Eria off her nose. I can¡¯t see tiny details like that while Ayla¡¯s jumping around! And there¡¯s so many of them, just¡­ just crawling over each other! I can¡¯t look for physiological traits! How would the queen behave differently? [Normally, she would exhibit lower activity levels compared to her normal workers because of her birthing role in the colony, but you are correct in that it would be impossible for you pick out a slower-moving ant out of thousands of ants here,] Eria said, dipping her head slowly in agreement. [Other behavioural differences include emitting queen-specific pheromones to communicate with her workers, but you are incapable of smelling them, so this is not a viable observation method. She would also typically order her workers to carry her brood splinters away from her to establish remote colonies, but, again, unless your eyes are keen enough to spot a line of workers straying off in unusual directions, this is not a viable observation method either.] What else? Is there anything that I can actually observe? Eria grimaced, and her shoulders trembled when she heard more human screams coming from her right. Not from Issam and Amula¡¯s direction. [It will take me some time to parse through the few bits of information I have on bullet ants. Their queens are not particularly well-researched and documented.] Just keep working through all my options! And tell me all of them even if they sound bad to you! Maybe there¡¯s something I¡¯ll notice that you couldn¡¯t! [Understood.] As Eria rattled all the non-viable options off in her ear, Ayla jumped backwards two more times, three more times¡ªeventually she saw Jerie sprinting along the street below and running straight into a screeching tidal wave of ants. She lost track of what Eria was saying for a second as she screamed at him, telling him to get up on high ground, but his flute was already unsheathed and his fingers already flying over the tone holes; he stood his ground and blew out an invisible wall that the ants at the very front slammed into. It wasn¡¯t a permanent wall, of course. He took careful steps back as he kept playing, the ants kept slowly advancing¡­ and Dahlia tilted her head down at the ants, brows furrowing. Something clicked inside her head. [If she is not moving at low intensity, the queen would typically be surrounded and protected by her soldiers, but that again is difficult to observe in the current situation. There may be small coloration variations between her and the normal workers as well, but we cannot count on being able to pick that out amidst the swarm. You could also attempt to follow trails of excessive hair grooming due to the amount of attention she gets from her workers, but¨C] The queen wouldn¡¯t happen to be a Mutant, would she? A pause. Aylee swooped down, grabbed Jerie, and jumped away with two people on her shoulders before the wave of ants could get to him. [No,] Eria said, picking its words carefully. [There are seven ranks of giant insects, and while it is certainly a higher-ranking bug compared to the rest of its brood, it is definitely not a Mutant¨C] Still, I don¡¯t have to think about the queen from the perspective of a normal, low-ranking bullet ant, right? Another pause. By the time Eria finished reading her mind and assessing the viability of her strategy, Issam, Jerie, and the fighter students had already slaughtered another wave of ants, moving further and further away from the shelter. [I see.] [So you see the reasonable path forward.] This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it. [But in the case she does not behave the way you think she will, you will be stuck in¨C] I have quiet wings, do I not? Eria¡¯s black compound eyes stared at her from the bridge of her nose, its gaze indecipherable. This was one of many times in the past three days she¡¯d wished she could read its mind the same way it could read hers, but right now, what she wanted from it wasn¡¯t knowledge or assurance that her plan would work. She just wanted a simple ¡®good luck¡¯ from the little black bug. [... You do, indeed.] [Now go.] [I shall assist you if necessary.] And that was all she needed to hear. As Ayla was about to make the jump back to another roof, she tapped the elbow holding her and craned her head up, nodding at the short-haired sister. ¡°Put me down next to that ant carcass by Issam¡¯s street, then tell everyone to look at me for the signal!¡± she said, as she started kicking her legs and wriggling her arms to warm herself up. ¡°I¡¯ll be fine! I have a plan! Solid! Just¡­ just trust me and let me go!¡± Understandably so, Ayla looked a little hesitant just leaving her in the middle of the street where she could easily be run over by a hundred giant ants, but on the next jump she was dropped off with a resolute nod sent her way. Then Ayla disappeared, blurring back up to the roofs while several students already took notice of her being left behind. Issam and Amula, in particular, stopped jumping altogether as they started shouting at Ayla, getting into a raucous fight over what she was planning on doing¡ªso to all of their confusion and befuddlement, she simply raised both her arms, twirling her right hand anti-clockwise with two fingers pressed together. In her left hand, she turned the dial on her pocket watch and made sure everybody could see the second hand ticking. ¡­ Tick, tock. Slipping her pocket watch back onto her waistband, she slipped her chisel out from her sleeve and dashed forward, slapping her palms onto the giant ant carcass. The ant was much bigger up close, at least thrice her size with sunlight glinting off its reddish-brown chitin. She already had her work cut out for her, though¡ªIssam had decapitated it before Amula jumped him away, which meant the silver thread didn¡¯t lead her to start with its missing head. Eria! Where do I¨C [Plunge your hand through its head and rip out its brain, heart, and midgut¡ªjust the digestive tract! Leave the mandible glands and stomach intact!] If it were her from three days ago, she would¡¯ve already hurled her guts out several times over just thinking about touching the dead ant, but now she managed by gritting her teeth so hard she felt she was going to crack something¡ªputting her chisel away, she punched her entire left arm through the bloody stump in its thorax and clawed through its gel-like flesh, vile black pus squirting out in the most grotesque display it could perform. She didn¡¯t lean away. She half-squinted and tore out what felt like its brain, then its heart, then a long and bulky set of entrails that she needed both hands to properly yank out. Her nose twitched from its foul fumes, but there were only twenty seconds left and a whole body of excess soft tissue to get rid of, still. There was no way she could scrape out all of them in time. Her dad would scold her to exercise great hygiene¡ªto first clean the ant¡¯s chitin with alcohol before sanitising its cavity with a myriad of herbal detergents¡ªbut her mom wouldn¡¯t bother with hygiene at all before ripping its entire body apart, cloaking herself with only its scattered scraps. She wasn¡¯t either one of her parents. She didn¡¯t have the surgical precision of her dad, she didn¡¯t have the brutal heavy-handedness of her mom. Meeting them halfway and taking both options was the best she could do. Pinching her nose, she grabbed the ant¡¯s drooped antennae and swung herself into the hollow thorax feet-first, kicking as much soft tissue into its abdomen before beginning to squirm the rest of her body inside. It was a far tighter squeeze than she ever would¡¯ve thought, and she was always the one everyone teased for looking like an actual child at her age. Chitin scraped her skin as she wriggled in, and she just barely managed to slip the bundle off her back before she lay flat on her stomach, her head sticking out where the ant¡¯s head would usually be. ¡­ Couldn¡¯t she squirm in just a little bit more so she¡¯d look less ridiculous? She tried, pushing herself in just that little bit further, and then¨C Ding! The swarm of ants rushed over her, the hard chitin exoskeleton over her body the only thing separating her from the hundreds of stomping giant legs. Immediately, the carcass started wobbling, shaking like mad, but¡­ she was holding her stomach. She was getting flung around, tossed from left to right, but through the unrestrained swarm of ants crawling over her outside, she could see the pinpricks of sunlight still filtering through¡ªso all she had to do now was wait, and untie the bundle in her hands to start reassembling. All the while, she could hear Issam and the others shouting faintly from the sky, now retreating in the completely opposite direction according to her instruction. Instead of fanning out in a wide circle to draw the ants away from the shelter, they were dashing back inwards and rotating in formation to condense all the ants in a small area; the centre of this area, of course, was going to be her. She was the one who¡¯d made the hand signal for the ¡®Wilting Blossom¡¯ formation, after all. Now, if Issam and the younger students could converge on her location within another minute, they¡¯d find themselves in a horribly distressing situation surrounded in every conceivable direction by giant ants¡­ but she had to take this bet. Her plan had to work, so now she focused purely on reassembling the broken weapon she¡¯d been keeping wrapped up in the bundle. ¡­ Burning heat. Suffocation. Foul-smelling guts and spiky chitin crushing her body from every direction. Her legs were bent, her elbows were crooked, just seeing five inches before her eye was a tremendously difficult task, but she¡¯d watched her dad make this Swarmsteel in front of her for months upon months on end¡ªif there was one Swarmsteel in the world she was confident she could make blindfolded, it¡¯d be this one meant to save lives, meant to cut gently and disassemble softly. She wouldn¡¯t be using it to save lives today. ¡°... Dahlia! You in there?¡± Issam shouted, his voice muffled as what sounded like the pommel of a blade pounded against the chitin on her left; she finished reassembling her weapon just in time and perked her ears, raising her head ever so slightly to peek out the small hole she¡¯d crawled in from. ¡°What¡¯s the next move? What are we here for? They¡¯ve surrounded us completely! If we don¡¯t get you out of here right now they¡¯ll close off all our escape routes, and then we can¡¯t retreat anymore¨C¡± ¡°Jerie!¡± she screamed, her voice cracking, crawling out of the thorax with only half of her weapon attached over her left hand. ¡°The flute! Play! As loud as you can! Make the swarm scream!¡± ¡°...¡± For a second, there wasn¡¯t any response from anyone around her. Even as she crawled out of the thorax covered in blood, guts, and slick oil-like ooze, the twenty or so students around her were frozen in fear as they stared down the swarm of a thousand ants skittering around them¡ªbut then it was the ants turn to screech to a complete halt, floundering, disoriented, tripping over the disruptive screech coming from Jerie¡¯s cicada flute. Naturally, all of the bug-slaying students standing next to him had their eardrums blown out as well, wincing sharply. Dahlia was no different, and she was the only one who¡¯d been prepared for it. ¡­ Even still. Her eyes were peeled wide open. She stared, whirling in place, scanning the reeling swarm for the single ant that didn¡¯t react as violently to Jerie¡¯s song as the others did¡ªand several metres right in front of her, leading the charge with its wings so tightly folded over its back they were barely visible, was the completely disinterested and unaffected queen she¡¯d been looking for. [... How fortuitous.] [Because it is stronger than the rest of its brood, the queen is not affected by Jerie¡¯s song, and that makes it stand out.] The effects of Jerie¡¯s song lasted for only a second. The ants started moving, adapting, realising mere sounds couldn¡¯t break their brains, but in that one second while Issam and Amula and the twins were still recovering from having their eardrums pierced¨C She followed the steel thread, leapt at her target, and a dying screech tore across the sky as she rammed her dad¡¯s Swarmsteel claws through the underside of the ant queen¡¯s head. In the same motion, she ripped its head off in a violent motion that sent blood splatters flying back into her face. ¡­ It happened like magic. The thousand ants began to panic, scurrying back and away from her as she held their queen¡¯s skewered head up into the air, her breaths haggard and her tongue dripping with blood and sweat. Foreign blood. Blood of their kind. They could¡¯ve most definitely come at her, still, and they would most definitely win in an all-out battle¡ªbut with ants that relied on their queen to maintain order, losing said queen was akin to having their living, beating hearts ripped out their thoraxes. They moved like an earthquake, rumbling the undertown with their giant legs, but between them and the girl who¡¯d slain their queen right in front of their eyes, there was a clear hierarchy they knew better than to trifle with. They turned and scurried in the direction of the Southern Luwu Tunnel; swarming past Issam and the others in the centre of the street without touching a hair on their bodies. Within five minutes, the last of the ants disappeared into the tunnel, and now there was no sound in the Southern New District. Dahlia crumbled, falling back on the ant queen¡¯s carcass. ¡­ Are we safe for now? In response, Eria looked far behind her in the direction of the Night Bazaar¡ªnodding very, very slowly. [For now.] [But the lightning hornet is still alive, and it can still birth an entire army''s worth of insects.] [Therefore, by midnight, the lightning hornet must fall.] [If not, Alshifa will.] Chapter 28 - Preparations Twelfth day of the fungi outbreak. Little Dahlia and her mother watch from the sidelines as her father leaves the house to go to the council hall every single day. He is so busy he doesn¡¯t find the time to play with her, so she pouts in her mother¡¯s lap, watching him duck out of the house early in the morning again. ¡°Why does papa need to stay outside for so long?¡± she asks. ¡°Because the townsfolk don¡¯t know the proper procedures to get rid of the outbreak, and he needs to go to the council hall to give lectures and speeches on dealing with the problem,¡± her mother answers, rubbing her head slowly. ¡°It¡¯s difficult, draining, demoralising work, I¡¯m sure. Seeing the people you care about doing everything in their power to not help themselves¡­ that''s why when papa comes home, you have to give him a big hug and tell him he did a good job, alright?¡± ¡°Why does papa keep working, then? Why can''t someone else do his job?¡± Her mother blinks. ¡°Because there are only five doctors in Alshifa, and he is the only one qualified to talk about insect-adjacent outbreaks.¡± ¡°Then why can''t the other doctors become qualified?¡± ¡°Because it will be difficult for the others to learn in five days everything papa learned in five years.¡± ¡°Then just learn it! Why is everyone putting everything on papa¨C¡± ¡°Because ants build an empire one grain at a time, and everyone must do their part,¡± her mother chides, flicking her on the forehead. ¡°A worker builds, a soldier fights, a drone carries food, a queen births. From the moment you are born, you have a role only you can play at every intersection of your life¡ªa child studies as a student, an adult works in the undertown, an elder advises and ensures the continued survival of the townsfolk. It just so happens papa will play the role of ¡®leader¡¯ this one time.¡± ¡°You, too, may one day find yourself in a leader''s position, so when that day comes don''t run away from it. ¡°That is your role. ¡°That is¡­ your¡­ fate...¡± ¡°...¡± ¡°... Oh, don''t look so down! How about we see who can draw more water from the well? Winner gets to pick whatever she wants from the Bazaar insect part traders!¡± Little Dahlia lights up. ¡°Okay!¡± - Scene from Sina Household past
¡­ Four in the afternoon. Four hours after the death of the bullet ant queen. Eights hours before midnight. Issam gave the shouting order to yank the cords, and so the townsfolk of Alshifa did, heaving and groaning as one¡ªtwo hundred and fifty-one people putting their backs into pulling down the giant wooden beams supporting the opening to the Southern Luwu Tunnel. The creaking noises became damning screeches, and one by one their hundred metre long cords dislodged the wooden beams from their pedestals. Small pebbles were flung across the sky as great stones collapsed in an avalanche of weighty thuds. Even those of them cowering behind sandbags several hundreds of metres away felt the winds lashing out at the undertown, the destruction of Alshifa''s final tunnel a monumental scene everyone just had to behold¡­ because once the dust was settled and Dahlia glanced over from where she sat right in front of the shelter, she had to finally accept the conclusion that now they had nowhere to run. [This was for the best, Dahlia.] [We cannot risk any more insects coming in through the Luwu Tunnel.] She pursed her lips and tore her gaze away, meekly asking a few of the younger students to continue arranging all the insect parts they¡¯d harvested in the past two days¡­ of which there were plenty for her to work with. Leftover carapaces from the pine sawyer beetle, shreds of robber fly wings here and there, and a hundred ants¡¯ worth of raw chitin all the younger students were toiling to pry from the carcasses all over¡ªnot to mention the sturdier chitin of the ant queen she¡¯d decapitated, she felt confident she could clad every single student in at least one Swarmsteel to better defend themselves. There were more than enough parts here for her to make something useful. All she¡¯d have to do was sit on her stool in front of the shelter and work her way through the street, maybe ask for a helping hand or two every once in a while to make the menial chores less troublesome. The limiting factor¡ªand the problem here¡ªwas time. After she¡¯d killed the queen and the rest of the ants scurried back through the Southern Luwu Tunnel, Alshifa had become quiet. Deathly quiet. At first the survivors in the shelter had been hesitant to come out even knowing all the ants were gone, but quickly they realised it wasn¡¯t just the street outside that¡¯d been seemingly vacated by all manners of the Swarm; they had the entirety of the Southern New District to themselves, bless the Great Makers, and neither Dahlia nor Eria could provide anyone a good explanation as to why. Perhaps the ants had killed the other giant insects that¡¯d first descended with the lightning hornet? Perhaps the other giant insects had also left along with the ants? In the end, before anyone could start arguing and panicking about what to do next, Issam and Amula had read her mind, gathering all the healthy and able-bodied to seal off the Luwu Tunnel. The rest of them were to drag the ant carcasses close to the shelter so Dahlia could start harvesting their chitin. Issam had given his order four hours ago, and now that they¡¯d collapsed the tunnel, Issam and the two hundred able-bodied were trudging back to the shelter from the near distance. In no time everyone would start panicking again, questioning those of them who¡¯d made the call to seal the tunnel instead of attempting to escape through it¡ªsomeone would have to answer for everything that¡¯d happened in the past three days. Maybe Issam would do it. Maybe Amula and Jerie would do it. Maybe the twins would do it. But when the five of them returned, alongside the twenty-one younger students who¡¯d survived the ant onslaught and the total three hundred and twenty ordinary survivors of the invasion, it was her that they surrounded in a wide berth across the bloody street¡ªso she chewed her lips and looked nervously over at Issam, beckoning him to come over so he could take the attention off of her. He obliged, much to her relief, stepping carefully over the carpets of harvested ant parts they were currently leaving out to dry in the sun. ¡°... Everyone from the council is dead,¡± he said in a firm, stoic voice, and everyone¡¯s faces turned into dark grimaces as they found spaces to sit down where they stood. ¡°The townsguard are dead. Our Instructors from the Bug-Hunting School are dead. The fact that the ants were able to flood through the Southern Luwu Tunnel means, most definitely, that the other undertowns connected to Alshifa are also¡­ annihilated. ¡°The only people who can fight in this shelter are us, the twenty-seven students of the Bug-Hunting School, and all of you who are still alive and kicking. ¡°Nobody will come to save us. ¡°So please, listen to what Dahlia has to say. ¡°I¡¯m sure there are many things she has to tell us about what to do from now on.¡± She whirled on him, teeth gritted, but he¡¯d already swooped behind her with a hand patting her shoulder; the three hundred and forty-seven turned their attention back to her in an instant, their silent gaze overbearing, unbearable. The beating in her chest was all she could hear as she froze, fists clenched, like she was encased in cold amber. What did she have to tell them? What could she tell them? That the bug trader had given her a little bug companion she could talk to and increase her attributes with? That her parents had died as half-insects, their ailments born of consuming too many insects in the first place? Or the fact that there was seemingly an entire world of humans up on the surface, fighting great wars against even greater insects, and that the lightning hornet that¡¯d crashed into the undertown was nothing more than a grunt of a dark star? Did everyone need to know everything she knew, or would she still be running away if she couldn¡¯t be honest with them right now? ¡­ The burden of their vigil still weighed down on her neck, on her shoulders, on her back, but strangely she¡¯d never felt as¡­ sure, in the past three days, of what she had to do. While her mom had been fighting the insect ailment in silence, her dad had not told her anything, or even gave off the slightest hint or slip that there was something she needed to worry about¡ªsurely, they¡¯d not meant to deceive her, or to make her feel ignorant and stupid once she did eventually discover what¡¯d been going on in the shadows. They¡¯d raised her all proper for as long as they humanly could, because what they had to do as her parents¡ªeven with their ailments¡ªhad never ever been something they had to change. Right now, they were in much the same situation. She knew a lot more about the surface world and the lightning hornet than everyone else did, yes, but what really mattered right now¨C ¡°By midnight, the lightning hornet in the Bazaar will be able to birth an army of giant insects to wipe us out,¡± she said, tightening her jaw and raising her head to address the townsfolk as she did. She was fidgeting and squirming in her seat, still, and she was aware; she had to unclench her fists and speak nonetheless. ¡°That¡¯s¡­ that¡¯s why we need to work together and kill it before it can even try to create an entire army. Initiative. If we can take the initiative and kill the lightning hornet, we can look to seal the hole in the ceiling, and from there we can think about how to revitalise Alshifa with what little resources we can scavenge all around. I¡¯m¡­ I¡¯m still thinking about the plan, but please trust that I¡¯ll have something ready in another two hours. The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. ¡°If anyone has any questions, please¡­ please ask me now. Because I¡¯m going to start making Swarmsteel otherwise, and¨C¡± Someone raised their hand, behind the group of children on her left. It was Miss Sitrin, owner of one of the textile stores in the Southwestern Racha Street. Her aged and wrinkled face had never looked particularly unkind, but just this once Dahlia was met with suspicion and reservation in equal parts¡ªshe was about to ask the same question most everyone looking at Dahlia probably wanted to ask. ¡°Where¡¯s your father, Doctor Sanyon?¡± she said. ¡°I¡¯d thought you and Issam left two days ago with a bit of supplies to go retrieve him. I¡¯m delighted to see you¡¯re still fine, if not a little weary, but¡­ where is Doctor Sanyon? ¡°He¡¯s not of the council, yes, but he has worked with them more than even most elders in the shelter¡ªwe want to hear what he has to say about this situation.¡± The air filled with murmurs of agreement, heads turning to look through the crowd, as though her dad would just be sitting or standing amongst them while leaving her out to be barraged by a slew of questions with no good answers¡ªshe was sure she couldn¡¯t properly hide the hurt from her face as she looked down at her feet, tears welling in the corner of her eyes. Miss Sitrin was right, after all. She wasn¡¯t her dad. Maybe she¡¯d have a bit more authority to speak in front of everyone if she were, but right now¡­ ¡­ ¡°... My dad¡¯s dead,¡± she whispered, as she drew in a huge breath and forced herself to look, and look at the people she was speaking to. ¡°He¡­ gave his life to protect me when we arrived to take him back here, to the shelter. So he won¡¯t be here. And I¡­ everything I just told you, about the lightning hornet and the midnight time limit, I learned from his dying breath. He¡¯d been doing private research on the Swarm for a while and figured a few things out. He was sure, even without a partner, that the lightning hornet will be able to birth as many giant insects as it wants.¡± Issam visibly tensed behind her¡ªas did the twins, and most of the adults and elders who knew her dad before he¡¯d become a hermit¡ªbut she didn¡¯t let their hopeless faces knock her down. Not right here. Not right now. She¡¯d gladly tell a few black lies if it meant she could get everyone to work together now. ¡°You don¡¯t¡­ have to trust me. I¡¯m not my dad, after all,¡± she continued, straightening her back and sniffling hard as she did. ¡°But¡­ please believe me when I say I don¡¯t want to die. I don¡¯t want Alshifa to fall. I¡¯m sure none of you want that, either, even if rebuilding and mourning is going to be¡­ painful, for the many years to come. ¡°So help me, and the rest of us students of the Bug-Hunting School.¡± ¡°By midnight, the lightning hornet must fall, or none of us will live to tell the tale about what happened here.¡± ¡°...¡± It was a heavy silence like every last one before it. The youngest of the children, too small to even hold blades in their hands, were of course the most anxious as they snuggled into their parents¡¯ warmth. Tense and debilitating terror rose onto the people¡¯s faces at the thought of confronting the lightning hornet that''d killed all but their weakest warriors. She could see for herself just how much they weren¡¯t in any state to fight¡ªhalf of them were still sporting thick bandages and heavy wounds from the initial invasion, and most, if not all of them, knew they''d be sending the young Bug-Hunting Students off on a one-way trip to the afterlife if they agreed to help. So, she racked her head and searched for ideas. Something that could convince them. Something that could sway them. Something that could make them believe, something that could make them know they still had hope in this race against time¡ªand the moment her bracers started tightening and her chestplate started squeezing and her mantles started cutting deeper around her shoulders, she knew what she could do to get time moving again. Slipping her dad¡¯s claw gauntlet onto her left hand, she scooted off her stool and stayed on her knees, pulling in one of the smaller giant ant carcasses. Issam read her mind and turned the dial on her pocket watch, giving her a warm, smiling nod. ¡­ Her blush was immediate, though her eyes were still faintly bleary as she sucked in a sharp breath¡ªceasing to take another as the countdown began. Time moved. Tick, tock. The crowd winced as she plunged her claws into the giant ant¡¯s head, dismantling its mandibles, its forelegs, its hindlegs, and then all three parts of its armoured thorax¡ªshe joined the pronotum and the mesonotum first, the two hardest sections of chitin on a giant bullet ant, and smoothened them into the two parts of chestplate anyone could easily put on by curling their edges over each other. She remembered her failings with her own beetle chestplate. The problem with the previous iteration was how it couldn¡¯t properly meld onto her body because the chestplate wasn¡¯t actually in contact with her skin, so this time she used her claws to cut two little spikes on the back half of the chestplate, making sure whoever wore it would be pricked ever so slightly. Then she added leftover pieces of chitin from the beetle onto both halves wherever she could, praying, hoping they¡¯d be good enough for some of the Swarmsteel¡¯s innate toughness to transfer over to the body as well. Tick, tock. A single slash, following the silver path, and the propodeum¡ªthe third part of the ant¡¯s armoured thorax¡ªwas split neatly down in half. By natural design they were already vaguely shaped in the form of armoured pauldrons, so all she had to do was smoothen them out a little, line the edges with flaps of the robber fly¡¯s wings, before adding the same little spikes she¡¯d made on the chestplate just to ensure they¡¯d meld properly. Still, she remembered Eria¡¯s advice from when she¡¯d made the capelets and mantles; she shaved the pauldrons down to half their original thickness in order to reduce their weight, which would hopefully be enough to increase the amount of speed they¡¯d be able to give their user without sacrificing too much in toughness. Tick, tock. The giant ant had six legs. She only needed four for limb protection. Same as when she¡¯d severed the cave cricket¡¯s leg chitin for bracers, she went straight for the tibiae below its femurs, removing them in four swift flicks that cut perfectly around the joints. She surprised herself a little with how precise her cut had been, though perhaps she could attribute it to the claws her dad had made; they were leagues sharper yet simultaneously easier to wield than her scalpels. With a bit more practice maybe she¡¯d be able to cut through something like the pine sawyer beetle¡¯s chitin in a single slash, but for now, she ripped four cylindrical tibiae out and hollowed the soft flesh with a few twirls of her claws. These bracers and greaves were going to be even tighter fits than her cave cricket bracers, which, hopefully, would mean they¡¯d be able to give more perceptivity with their tiny ant hairs than her bristles currently did. Tick, tock. Final part. Mandibles. Two from the head, not the most serrated ones in the world¡ªcertainly not amongst the countless ant species with even sharper bites¡ªbut they¡¯d serve well enough as emergency weapons in case a student lost their blades mid-fight. It took a bit of fiddling and adjusting to see how she could most comfortably hold them like shortswords, but very quickly she realised the jagged edges wouldn¡¯t actually be all that effective; it was the smooth, curved backside that she started sharpening with her claws, shaving away the excess chitin, before trimming some more chitin from the bottom to make it resemble the handle of a blade. For good measure she wrapped some of the robber fly wings around the handle to make them easier to hold, and suddenly they felt faster as well, when she gave them a few careless swings through the air. Most likely the wings were melding with the mandibles and combining their attributes. She¡¯d love to investigate more about the particular details if she had the time, but right here, right now¨C Ding! She shot back onto her stool, gasped for breaths she¡¯d been refusing to take, and warm blood trickled out from between the seams of her claws¡ªmost likely she¡¯d bruised and cut her own fingers underneath for how fast she¡¯d made them move the past minute. Even still, the whole set of Swarmsteel lay sprawled out on the ground in front of her, arranged neatly and perfectly in the vague form of the human who¡¯d meld with them. A chestplate. Two pauldrons. Two bracers. Two greaves. Two shortswords. All of them were better Swarmsteel than the ones she¡¯d made thus far, and when she turned, discreetly, to tilt her head at Eria... [Bullet Ant-fuse-Pine Sawyer Beetle Chestplate (Quality = E)(Tou +0/5)(Strain +89)] [2x Bullet Ant-fuse-Robber Fly Pauldron (Quality = E)(Spd +0/4)(Tou +0/4)(Strain +288)] [2x Bullet Ant Bracer (Quality = E)(Per +0/20)(Tou +0/4)(Strain +268)] [2x Bullet Ant Greave (Quality = E)(Per +0/20)(Tou +0/4)(Strain +144)] [2x Bullet Ant Shortsword (Quality = E)(Str +0/6)(Strain +87)] [Set Bonus Qualities: Long Distance Pheromone Communication] Pride flared up inside her, along with a fierce protectiveness of the Swarmsteel she had made. [... Impressive,] Eria said, hopping off her shoulder to scrutinise the shortswords up close. [If someone were to don the whole set, not only would it be likely for them to gain at least two levels in speed, four levels in toughness, and sixteen levels in perception, they would also gain the set bonus quality for equipping all of these Swarmsteel at the same time. This is only possible because you used the bullet ant as both the base and key component for all of them.] The townsfolk leaned in, eyes wide, peeking between each other¡¯s heads to get better looks at what she¡¯d just made. Set¡­ bonus? She plucked her dad¡¯s claw gauntlet off her left hand and winced a little, feeling cold pricks where tiny needles had been pulled out of her skin; evidently she¡¯d started melding with it even though she¡¯d barely had the gauntlet on for long at all. It says long distance pheromone communication. What does that mean? Like, does it mean the user can¨C [Communicate via pheromones to other users who are also wearing the same set of Swarmsteel, yes. This will most certainly come in handy against the lightning hornet. If everyone wears the whole set and you prepare certain strategies linked to the smell of certain pheromones, you might be able to coordinate attacks with each other without speaking a single word.] Ah. That¡¯s¡­ useful, huh? [Indeed.] [And now¨C] ¡°Miss, you¡¯re tired already, right?¡± It was a familiar voice. Two familiar voices, actually¡ªshe raised her head while panting for breath, locking eyes with the siblings who¡¯d not changed out of their plain tunics stained black with blood. Instructor Biem¡¯s children. And when they stepped forward¡ªthe first to break away from the townsfolk¡ªthey showed no hesitation at trying to pull another giant ant carcass over to her. ¡­ ¡®Trying¡¯ was the keyword. They were still six and seven years of age, hardly strong enough to be lugging any giant insects around, but the strain in their bony limbs and the teeth-gritting effort on their forces were more than enough to spur another person into action¡ªMiss Sitrin was the second to step forward as she helped the siblings out, dragging the giant ant carcass forward until it was sitting right in front of her. Then Miss Sitrin whipped out a textile cutting knife from her sleeve, positioning it over the giant ant¡¯s legs as she narrowed her eyes at Dahlia for confirmation. ¡°How¡¯d you do it again?¡± she asked. ¡°You cut a circle around this joint, and then you¡­ hm?¡± ¡°...¡± She didn¡¯t answer. She couldn¡¯t answer, as one by one the townsfolk rose to their feet, scattered, and started allocating themselves into groups to bring in every last ant carcass in the Southern New District. Those with strong arms and legs did the heavy labour of actually dragging in the carcasses, lining them all up along the walls of the shelter. Those with confidence in their hands and fingers moved back into the shelter to retrieve sets of kitchen knives, gathering around Miss Sitrin and the other store owners of the textile street for an introductory course at cutting for apparel. Those who could do neither did the most brain-numbing, but nonetheless necessary task¡ªcleaning and washing and polishing the Swarmsteel she¡¯d just made with wet rags and whole kegs of alcohol. Most of the children fell firmly in the last category, but they played their roles with light in their eyes, not a single one of them complaining about their work. Time was well and truly moving again. ¡­ The whirlwind in her chest refused to settle as she sat hunched over on her stool, legs spread, burying her face in her hands. It was a feeling she lacked the vocabulary to explain. It was a bit of tension, a bit of anxiety, a bit of exhaustion, a bit of pride and confidence and seeing what Swarmsteel made with gentle hands could do¡ªand she broke into quiet sobs, quite unable to hide the triumph she felt from anyone who was really paying attention to her. Issam was. Amula, Jerie, and the twins were. And while she wasted everyone¡¯s time for about half a minute more, with the five of them patting her back and chuckling as they did, Eria hopped back onto her shoulder with a deep bow. [... You have eight hours left to perfect your set of Swarmsteel.] [So allow me to assist you, Great Maker, until the very end.] Chapter 29 - Calm Little Dahlia sits by the desk, staring at her box of insect parts. Her parents aren¡¯t home today. She¡¯s all alone, she¡¯s bored, her fingers are itching to do something¡ªshe decides to make her first Swarmsteel without guidance from anyone. She lays out all the available parts in front of her: praying mantis scythes, scarab beetle chitin, charred weaver ants, multi-coloured firefly extracts, and a hollow ladybug shell. She decides a small pocket watch would be just fine for her project. First, she uses her father¡¯s forceps to carefully pry the scythes apart, unfurling them to their full lengths. Three scythes for the second, minute, and hour hand. She hooks the mandibles and stingers of the charred weaver ants together into circles, making interlocking gear systems. Then she carves out a recess from the scarab beetle chitin, shaping it like a small dome, before sticking the ladybug shell onto the back for a fashionable protective covering. It takes her an hour, two hours, three hours; eventually she plops all the individual parts down, fingers bleeding where she¡¯d accidentally cut herself with her father¡¯s gear making tools. A simple pocket watch that could only count the time would be boring, though, so she also distributes the firefly extract evenly across the back of the inner casing before mounting the assemblage. This again takes her another hour, just trying to figure out how to get everything to stick, but once everything is aligned and calibrated, she turns the dial and lets out a soft breath. When the second hand turns, it makes a pretty tick tock sound. When the minute hand turns, it makes a loud ding sound. When the hour hand turns, the friction of the movement stimulates the firefly extract and makes the watch glow. ¡°... I did it!¡± Little Dahlia picks up the watch, squeezes it in her arms, and jumps onto the bed. There she stays hugging her first creation until her father comes home, asking what happened to the bedroom with all the insect parts strewn across the floor. He yells at her to clean up after herself, but she is too exhilarated to listen¡ªhe doesn¡¯t see what she has made, and he doesn¡¯t have to see. This is her Swarmsteel; her one and only. - Scene from Sina Household past
¡­ Two hours before midnight. After six hours of intensive, backbreaking labour, they¡¯d all managed to scrounge together twenty-eight sets of bullet ant Swarmsteel for every student that¡¯d be facing off against the lightning hornet. Dahlia allowed herself to feel a little bit of pride¡ªher Swarmsteel had immediately started melding onto the students¡¯ bodies the moment they slipped the bracers on, and though the first hour of letting everyone test her Swarmsteel by running around the New District had mostly been filled with complaints about how much the equipment pricked their skin, they came to the realisation just as quickly that they were moving thrice as fast as usual; courtesy of the robber fly pauldrons, of course. Now every student could run at least as fast as three average humans, not to mention the additional toughness, the heightened perceptivity, and the strength and sturdiness of their new mandible shortswords. Most of them had even thanked her for making Swarmsteel stronger than the ones they¡¯d used in school, which¡­ didn¡¯t quite make sense to her. Surely personalised Swarmsteel would be better than general use ones? She couldn¡¯t discount the set bonus everyone gained from wearing the same Swarmsteel, though. She¡¯d even made every single townsfolk at least one ant bracer to make sure nobody would be left out of the loop. The twins figured out how to use ¡®long distance pheromone communication¡¯ the moment they put their sets on¡ªit wasn¡¯t nearly as complicated as she¡¯d worried it might be. All of it basically boiled down to being able to smell three ant-specific scents with the hairs on their bracers; the bracers made from the queen ant¡¯s legs could emit the scents simply by tickling certain hairs, so it didn¡¯t take Issam long at all to establish common orders they¡¯d all know to execute the moment they smelled the scents only he would be emitting: the citrusy scent meant ¡®attack¡¯, the vinegar scent meant ¡®retreat¡¯, and the rotten scent meant ¡®hold position¡¯. Since Issam had also already figured out how to send specific scents in very specific directions, he could even command every student individually without risking overlapping orders. Dahlia was sure, right about now, that the younger students were still training and trying to get used to their new form of communication. She couldn¡¯t say she already had the hang of it, but it was also quite unnecessary for her to work well with everyone in combat. Most likely, she¡¯d be the only student not fighting the lightning hornet on the front lines. ¡°We¡¯d need you to stay back and repair our Swarmsteel if they get damaged mid-fight,¡± Aylee had said, arguing against her fighting along with them. ¡°You can also do basic doctor work, so make sure your hands are in good condition to stitch if push comes to shove,¡± Amula had also said, and that was two out of the five fifth-years leading the attack arguing against her going on the front lines¡ªbasically, there wasn¡¯t going to be any arguing over the subject no matter how hard she tried pushing for it. And, in truth, she wasn¡¯t¡­ too keen on fighting the lightning hornet, anyways. Right now, two hours before midnight, while the townsfolk of Alshifa were busy getting the students ready for the attack, she was sneaking away from the shelter to get back to the Southern Marashon Street. ¡­ It¡¯s quiet here, too. No bugs. She¡¯d left a note on her stool, of course, detailing where she was going and how long it¡¯d be until she returned. She didn¡¯t want to give everyone a heart attack thinking she¡¯d been picked off by a giant insect while nobody was looking. It was just that this journey back up to the Southern Marashon Street was important to her, because she¡¯d promised to do it three days ago when she¡¯d first climbed out of the sewers here¡ªand that there were no giant insects crawling around right now, like in the Southern New District, was simply the greatest fortune she could ask for at this time of night. The flowing rivers of blood had already dried, or drained into the grates. The mangled corpses had been cleaned off the streets by giant insects, not a single bone left behind. New vegetation was already poking stubbornly through the broken cobblestone tiles, cold winds kissing her skin with icy brushes, moonlight falling gently on the slope leading up to the hole in the ground she¡¯d climbed out of. She kept her eyes focused as she peered down the ladder, placing her cricket and ant bracers flat against the ground. Eria had told her replace all her current Swarmsteel with the bullet ant ones since they were of higher quality, but her cricket bracers were already far too melded with her skin to be removed without significant risk of injury, so begrudgingly Eria had let her increase her strain just a little bit further by wearing both her ant bracers over her upper arms instead. It wasn¡¯t ideal, of course, and her body did feel all the more heavy for it; she¡¯d just have to deal with it for two more hours. Afterwards, she¡¯d rip all her Swarmsteel off, dangerous and painful or not. She probably wouldn¡¯t want anything to do with insect parts for at least a few months or years after the past three days. There¡¯s¡­ nothing waiting for me down there, right? Eria waited a moment before answering, observing through the hairs and bristles on her bracers. [I do not believe so, no. You are free to descend.] Alright. After dropping the satchel in her hands onto the ground, she gripped both sides of the ladder and flung herself over the hole, sliding over ninety-five of the hundred metres down into the sewer room. Just before she reached the bottom, she stopped for a final check with her bracers; no giant insects nearby. She hurried, then, by falling the final five metres and landing hard on her heels¡ªthankfully she was getting some overall toughness from them to do something so reckless¡ªbefore flicking the firefly cage dangling on her waistband to bring some light and warmth into the room. It was just as dark and dreary and foul-smelling a place as she remembered, but still she managed a small, wistful smile when she saw the corpse of the bug trader lying half-submerged in the rushing sewage waters. ¡­ I didn¡¯t need to be so worried after all, she thought, as she stepped in and dragged him backwards by the arms, noting how light he¡¯d become even clad in a dozen foreign, completely unrecognisable Swarmsteel. The giant insects didn¡¯t touch his body because he was wearing so much of their parts. He really has to be someone well-versed with the surface. [Considering he was the one who brought me to you, he must have been one of their affiliates.] She struggled to sling his arms around her shoulders, heaving and groaning as she did. His ¡®affiliates¡¯? Who are you talking about? [... Not quite important at hand. Are you planning on carrying him all the way back up the ladder?] I am. Grunting, she started climbing back onto street level with the bug trader on her back, and, at her request, Eria popped her status screen open so she could have something to look at while she climbed. [Name: Dahlia Sina] [{Temporary} Class: Hemiptera] [BloodVolume: 4.2/4.8 (88%), Strain: 739/837 (88%)] [Unallocated Points: 0] [// BASIC ATTRIBUTES] [Strength: 1 (+0), Speed: 1 (+2), Dexterity: 8 (+0), Toughness: 1 (+2), Perceptivity: 3 (+24), StrainLimit: 837] [// MUTATION TREE ] [// UNIQUE SWARMSTEEL LIST] [Bullet Ant-fuse-Pine Sawyer Beetle Chestplate (Quality = E)(Tou +1/5)(Strain +89)] [2x Bullet Ant-fuse-Robber Fly Pauldron (Quality = E)(Spd +1/4)(Tou +1/4) (Strain +144)] [2x Bullet Ant Bracer (Quality = E)(Per +8/20)(Tou +0/4)(Strain +134)] [2x Bullet Ant Greave (Quality = E)(Per +8/20)(Tou +0/4)(Strain +72)] [2x Cave Cricket Bracers (Quality = E)(Per +8/17)(Tou +0/1)(Strain +186)] [Pine Sawyer Beetle-fuse-Robber Fly Mantle (Quality = F)(Spd +1/1)(Tou +0/1)(Strain +93)] ¡­ Looks like I¡¯m not melding with my own Swarmsteel that well, she thought, looking down glumly. And even the younger students are getting at least two levels in speed from my bullet ant pauldrons. Guess I¡¯m just no good when it comes to having affinity with what I make, huh? [You are good enough. In the meantime, what do you plan on doing with the bug trader¡¯s body?] Eventually, she managed to drag herself back onto street level with the bug trader, and the first thing she did afterwards was sprawl out on the ground for a few moments to catch her breath. I was... thinking about burying him somewhere... but I really just need to sit still and¨C ¡°He still looks exactly as terrifying and powerful as when we¡¯d split up on that carriage, huh?¡± She whirled, having not been paying attention to the warning tingles her bracers were sending her, and Issam caught her completely by surprise by flicking her on the forehead. She reeled with a pained yelp, he chuckled and took his seat next to her, right in the middle of the street¡ªwith the bug trader¡¯s mask facing the ceiling and his hands folded over the hole in his torso, it was almost like they were just three friends sitting and watching the sky on a moonlit night. ¡­ Come to think of it, she couldn¡¯t remember the last time she¡¯d hung out with him, just the two of them. It must¡¯ve been years ago, before her mom passed away. What did she talk about with him back then? What had she done with his back then? And while she scrambled and fidgeted and racked her brain for something interesting to say¨C ¡°Did you get to send your dad off, facing the sky just like you¡¯re doing for the bug trader?¡± A quiet voice. A knowing voice. Her awkwardness from earlier vanished in the blink of an eye and she nodded, a pale red flushing on her cheekbones. ¡°... Mhm,¡± she said. ¡°He was clad in tons of powerful Swarmsteel as well, just like the bug trader, so I¡¯m sure¡­ no giant insect will dare wander by and devour him. ¡°After this is over, I¡¯ll see to burying him next to my mom.¡± Issam closed his eyes and let out a soft breath. ¡°Sounds good. And tell me if you need any help with that, because I almost didn¡¯t catch that note you left behind on your stool. What if you came out here alone and encountered a giant bug?¡± ¡°I¡¯m sneaky.¡± ¡°I know that, but still. Tell someone if you¡¯re planning on leaving. Nobody¡¯s going to stop you.¡± ¡°You would¡¯ve tried.¡± ¡°I would¡¯ve tried, sure, but you know I would¡¯ve gone with you if you¡¯d just argue your case. The bug trader saved all six of us too.¡± ¡°I thought since you¡¯re taking the lead in the fighting in two hours, you¡¯d want to spend more time going over battle formations and tactics with the younger students.¡± ¡°And I would¡¯ve done that at the cost of risking you getting caught by some giant bug all alone?¡± He had a point, as usual. It could¡¯ve gone very wrong if she¡¯d encountered something on her way here, but the first thing she wanted to reply with was the fact she wasn¡¯t the same Dahlia as the one from three days ago. In terms of physical strength, she was thrice as strong as before. In mental terms, she wasn¡¯t as deathly afraid of giant insects as before. In toughness, in strength, in perceptivity¡ªwith her father¡¯s claw gauntlets as well, she was feeling even a little confident that she could maybe take a few of the younger students from three days ago in a fair one-on-one fight. In that sense, she wasn¡¯t completely defenceless anymore. The second thing she wanted to reply with was a question. ¡°Hey, Issam.¡± ¡°Hm?¡± ¡°Why do you always hang out around me?¡± she asked, looking him straight in the eye. ¡°Did I¡­ do something for you? Maybe it¡¯s because my dad always visited your orphanage? Amula told me about¡­ um, all of you. About how my dad always brought you guys candy. ¡°Is that why you always hang out with me? ¡°Because I¡¯m Doctor Sanyon¡¯s daughter?¡± He raised his eyebrows, and she tried to find some sort of answer there, but there was only surprise, hints of confusion, and¡­ she could¡¯ve sworn he thought she was joking. Why he thought she¡¯d be joking, she didn¡¯t understand¡ªso when she pursed her lips and averted her gaze, looking slightly embarrassed for having maybe asked a stupid question, he laughed and shook his head quite dejectedly. ¡°You don¡¯t remember?¡± he mumbled, scratching his head as a pale pink flushed onto his cheekbones. ¡°And I thought you¡¯d been just as scared as I¡¯d been, too. That it was only a core memory for me and not for you¡­ hah. That¡¯s just what I deserve for never telling you what I¡¯d always wanted to tell you.¡± She blinked, head craning slightly to the side. ¡°Um. I don¡¯t really know what¡­ you¡¯re talking about?¡± The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. He shrugged lightly in response. ¡°You probably won¡¯t believe me when I say this, but I didn¡¯t used to be all that strong and talented¨C¡± ¡°¨Cno, I know that¨C¡± ¡°¨Couch. But I really, really, really wasn¡¯t strong and talented at all, especially after¡­ I started living with Amula and Jerie and the others,¡± he said, as he stared off at the moon and sighed, gaze unfocused. ¡°For the record, Raya was already the godsent talent at the age we all arrived at the orphanage. We were¡­ five, I think? Mm. Raya was already swinging around sticks for spears, Amula was already jumping across rooftops with Jerie and her brother, and the twins were already impossible to tell apart without them purposefully shifting their voices. I¡¯m pretty sure you¡¯d have found them just as interesting as they are now. They haven¡¯t really changed that much in that regard.¡± His wording brought her back to her senses. ¡°And you¡­ weren¡¯t as interesting as they were?¡± ¡°Mediocrity doesn¡¯t shine,¡± he said, his smile a ghost of one. ¡°When your father told all of us in the orphanage to try for the Bug-Hunting School, I didn¡¯t want to do it. Out of everyone in our class, I was least suited for it¡ªI wasn¡¯t particularly big, particularly strong, particularly fast. Middle of the road in everything. I guess I had the slightest interest in cooking back then, but really I just liked the cutting ingredients part. Not so much the cooking part. That¡¯s why, for the first two years of primary school, I didn¡¯t go through the Bug-Hunting School¡¯s foundation year like everyone else did. ¡°I knew I¡¯d struggle if I did.¡± ¡°... What changed, then?¡± she asked, pulling her knees up to her chest and glancing at him sideways. ¡°You transferred back to the Bug-Hunting School in the first year, didn¡¯t you? Why¡¯d you come back if you knew you weren¡¯t going to have an easy time going through five years of training?¡± He continued looking at the moon for a long time, his mouth grim. He looked crestfallen, his brows were knitted, his lips were twisted¡ªbut then he cleared his face and laughed, a joyful, boisterous sound. ¡°The night before I had to choose whether to go to the General School or the Bug-Hunting School, I fell through a sewer gate on the way home to the orphanage.¡± ¡°...¡± ¡°...¡± ¡°... Did you hit your head¨C¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t have a firefly cage with me, and I must¡¯ve fallen pretty far down. I don¡¯t remember being able to see a single thing in front of me,¡± he said. ¡°In hindsight, I would¡¯ve died for sure the way I wandered around in the dark, trying to look for an exit by feeling the walls with my hands. In my head I thought I was nearing the surface minute by minute, but also¡­ maybe not? I wasn¡¯t really thinking right at that point. I was tired from school, if I went back to the orphanage I¡¯d just get into another fight with Raya, and then I¡¯d get no sleep because the twins will never let me do that without playing a few rounds of bug cards first¡ªat some point I just felt really, really tired, so I sat down and didn¡¯t try to move anymore.¡± ¡°...¡± ¡°That¡¯s when you found me, by the way,¡± he said, chuckling as he flicked her on the forehead again. ¡°I knew you were Doctor Sanyon¡¯s daughter by your voice, but I¡¯d never talked to you before. He¡¯d never brought you down to the orphanage. I just knew it was you because you had that same¡­ soft, gentle cadence your dad had. And you were also lost in the sewers that night. Tripped in without a firefly cage, just like me¡ªwhat a bunch of idiots, am I right?¡± She frowned, but not for long; the tone of knowing in his voice showed he wasn¡¯t lying, and now that he mentioned it, she did remember that night. There was a boy she¡¯d sat with and talked with, until she was able to muster the courage to attempt finding her way out of the sewers again. That boy¡­ she never did end up learning his name, did she? ¡°... I also knew you were the same age as me, but in the dark, only hearing my voice, you must¡¯ve thought I was way younger than you,¡± he continued, letting an amused smirk touch his eyes. ¡°I could tell you were scared. You were shaking even more than I was, and I was half a head shorter than you at the time. ¡°Still, you stayed with me. ¡°I told you about the orphanage, about Raya and Amula and Jerie and the twins, and how I didn¡¯t have much talent for being a chef or a bug-slayer either way. ¡°Then I asked you what you think I should do. ¡°Chef or bug-slayer? ¡°Sit there and die, or get up and walk? ¡°Do you remember what you told me, Dahlia?¡± She didn¡¯t answer. She didn¡¯t know the answer. ¡°... You said, and I quote, in your best attempt at mimicking your dad¡¯s voice, ¡®If you can¡¯t make a decisive choice, then take both options and deal with the consequences later!¡¯¡± he said, and she immediately giggled; his mimicry was horrid no matter how she tried to judge it. He laughed in return, grabbing his mantis scythes like satchel straps. ¡°And then you started regurgitating these random¡­ quotes? Sayings that you learned from your dad? Half of them didn¡¯t make any sense in that context, and the other half, well, I don¡¯t think your memory was quite as good as you thought it was. Sorry. ¡°But you told me you believed in me, and that I had potential to be great no matter what I did¡ªthat the ¡®path¡¯ I¡¯d make with my own two hands would be the path that is best for me, and only me. ¡°So I took that with me and ran. ¡°I transferred out of General School and enrolled into the Bug-Hunting School just to see if I could make it through the first week of training. ¡°I did. ¡°I didn¡¯t give up on cooking at the orphanage just to see if some of my bug hunting training will carry over to my knife. ¡°It did. ¡°When Instructor Biem was suggesting personal Swarmsteel for me to start training with, I worried it¡¯d take me months, if not years to find one I could properly use during my fifth year. ¡°I found my mantis scythes that¡¯d sharpen my blades for me on the first try. ¡°And day by day, night by night, as I tried harder and harder and got stronger and stronger, I¡­ wonder, still. ¡°What, exactly, did you see in me that made you say what you said to me on that night, down in the middle of nowhere?¡± It was yet another question she couldn¡¯t answer, because she didn¡¯t know the answer. She still couldn¡¯t remember that night. And Issam knew, because he waved it away with a light-hearted laugh, rising slowly onto his feet. ¡°... That¡¯s why you¡¯re the Make-Whatever,¡± he said, his smile returning in full force. ¡°I don¡¯t know what you see with those eyes of yours, but if you see potential in people the same way you do for insect parts, then¡­ you know, I¡¯ll be more than happy to continue hanging out with you for the rest of our lives. ¡°So what do you say? ¡°Wanna be friends with me?¡± ¡­ He was the last person in Alshifa she¡¯d expected to hear that from, but if he was saying it now with a face incontrovertibly embarrassed, breaking eye contact¡ªshe was sure if she looked back at him now, she¡¯d see nothing more than the reflection of her own embarrassment staring her right in the face. And if that was the case¡­ she didn¡¯t need to answer him. Not conventionally, anyways. She slung her satchel off her back, unwrapped it on her lap, and dumped out all the leftover insect parts she didn¡¯t get to use for her bullet ant Swarmsteel: the extra large queen ant mandibles, a few beetle leg tubules she¡¯d joined together previously thinking she could make something useful out of them, and the very last few pieces of robber fly wings she couldn¡¯t use for wrapping the shortsword handles. The standout pieces had to be the queen ant mandibles¡ªthey were tons sharper than the normal ones she¡¯d used to make the shortswords, so she picked them up and twirled them around for a bit, ignoring Issam staring at her blankly from the side. Alright. This¡­ could be a good idea. Running her hands through her hair, she turned the dial on her pocket watch and stopped breathing. Stopped thinking. By now she¡¯d made over twenty shortswords and generally knew how to cobble a weapon together out of insect parts, but for the queen ant mandibles she wanted something different. Something lost, something robust, something only the strongest of the strong could wield, something she could never dream of wielding¡ªshe popped a piece of candy into her mouth before her hands moved with the intent to make a Mutant-killing Swarmsteel. She didn¡¯t need to equip her claw gauntlets for the next minute. All the parts were already laid out in front of her, holes preemptively drilled, edges already smoothened. Putting them together in a comprehensive manner was almost child¡¯s play for her, yet still she made sure each of the tubules were perfectly aligned as they slid over each other, and that each of the mandibles were screwed on so tight she¡¯d never be able to remove them without breaking the weapon outright. Quickly then she realised the weapon was maybe a bit too long to be wieldy, so she split the tubule handle down in half and essentially made two weapons, one the length of a normal sword and the other more akin to the length of a swordstaff. In the end, it didn¡¯t even take her a minute to finish fashioning the queen ant mandible weapons. She slapped the dial on her pocket watch before it could ring, wrapped both hilts with the last few pieces of robber fly wings, and then held the sword out to Issam¡ªher own cheeks dusting with red as he took the sword from her, their fingers brushing for the briefest of instants. ¡°... According to the Altered Swarmsteel System, this sword has a strength level of eleven,¡± she mumbled, pulling the mandible swordstaff onto her lap as Issam held his new sword over his shoulders, letting his mantis scythes sharpen them before throwing out a sharp swing; the blade arced into the ground and cut through the cobblestone like paper. ¡°It might¡­ be useful against the lightning hornet, if we¡¯re¡­ assuming its chitin is stronger than the usual giant insect. Effective. With your mantis scythes sharpening the blade, you might even be able to get its strength up to twelve or thirteen, which would be¨C¡± ¡°You really are the Make-Whatever, huh?¡± He laughed, patting her on the head as he held out his hand, offering to pull her onto her feet. ¡°Truth is, I came out here looking for you because I had something I wanted to give you as well, but¡­ hah. It¡¯s not nearly as useful a gift as yours, so now I don¡¯t really wanna give it to you.¡± Her face puffed as she took his hand, letting him pull her up. ¡°I don¡¯t¡­ like waiting. What is it? What do you wanna give me?¡± ¡°Nothing. Just Ignore it.¡± ¡°Issam.¡± ¡°It¡¯s really nothing special,¡± he muttered, covering his face as he sheathed his new sword over his back, still refusing to let go of her hand. ¡°It¡¯s¡­ well, I¡¯d wanted to give it to you three days ago in the Bazaar, but now the timing¡¯s all off and I¡¯ve already missed my chance. Maybe I¡¯ll just wait until next year.¡± ¡°Issammmmm.¡± He looked shy and awkward enough for the both of them, so she took the lead as she started heading back to the shelter, hand in hand with the boy who¡¯d come all the way out here looking for her. ¡°... After all this is over, okay?¡± he said, looking unabashedly thrilled as she pulled him along, his eyes glimmering with amusement with a smile magnifying by the second. ¡°Really, if you want something from me so badly, you could¡¯ve just pleaded super hard with tears in your eyes and you know I¡¯ll give it to you right now. And right now we have to find someone who can use this swordstaff you¡¯ve just made¨C¡± A shadow leapt at them from the side, dashing right next to her left arm, and suddenly she wasn¡¯t holding onto her swordstaff anymore. Her bracers tingled a half-second later, and then she blinked. ¡°This weapon¡­ is better than mine.¡± The voice moved through the street like a quiet morning breeze, but when they whirled with Issam unsheathing his blade in the same movement¡ªhis free hand still locked with hers¡ªthe boy inspecting the swordstaff he¡¯d stolen from her looked anything but a gentle elemental soul. His bug-hunting shawl was in tatters. There wasn¡¯t a single inch of his body not covered in blood splatters or sticky insect bits. Once, he may have exuded utmost poise in the lax but guarded stance he took with his honey bee spear and wrist-mounted crossbow, but both Swarmsteel were nowhere to be seen now and he was looking more¡­ feral. His nails were sharper, his back was slightly hunched, he looked entirely out of breath just getting here from wherever he¡¯d been the entire past day¡ªand then the rest of the surviving students from the Bug-Hunting School started shouting, Amula and Jerie and the twins leading the group as they ran up at the three of them from the bottom end of the street. Eria, Dahlia felt, was just as dumbstruck as she was. ¡°... Oh. It¡¯s just you, Raya,¡± Issam muttered, as he sheathed his new sword once more and glanced back at the other students, scowling. ¡°The hell have you been the past day? We could¡¯ve used your help with the ants, and if you were there, maybe we wouldn¡¯t have had to lose a third of the students¨C¡± ¡°I killed the rest of the Swarm.¡± Dahlia blinked again. So did Issam. So did the rest of the students as they finally caught up to them, the twins grabbing Dahlia and hitting her over the head for sneaking off without a word to anyone¡ªAmula kicked the back of their knees and told them to stop. At least now they were all together, and now Raya was here as well, having said something so preposterous Issam had to tilt his head before asking again. ¡°... What?¡± ¡°I killed the rest of the Swarm,¡± Raya said, shrugging as he twirled her swordstaff in his hands and let the blade cut gaping chasms in the ground; his weapons-handling expertise showed, still, even in his utterly bruised and battered state. ¡°The weight on this weapon is unevenly distributed. Good. The blade must be heavier than the handle for any polearm, else you lose out on power and momentum for more precision that isn¡¯t entirely necessary for hunting giant bugs. Against giant insects, all you need is power¨C¡± ¡°See?¡± Amula mumbled, whispering in Dahlia¡¯s ear. ¡°I told you he¡¯s still alive. He¡¯s like a cockroach.¡± ¡°Of course I¡¯m alive,¡± Raya snapped back. ¡°While you lot were struggling to take down a bunch of ants, I killed the rest of the Swarm in Alshifa barring that lightning hornet in the Bazaar. My spear and crossbow broke around five hours ago, so I had to kill the last giant insect with my bare hands.¡± ¡°...¡± Nobody said anything, least of all Dahlia as she looked at her shoulder, staring pointedly at Eria. [... Great Makers. What a monster.] You don¡¯t think he¡¯s lying? [Well, it would certainly explain why Alshifa is quiet right now.] He was looking feverish, still¡ªcertainly nobody had thought he''d be able to kill all of the remaining giant insects in the northern end of Alshifa, but here he was, only looking weary and exhausted and ready to fall over at any moment. If it weren''t for him leaning against his new swordstaff, he might''ve fallen over already; whether that meant her weapon was sturdy or his knees were still impossibly strong, she didn''t know. Nobody cared to guess. He took a step forward, heading in the direction of the Bazaar, and immediately stumbled. Amula and Jerie slipped a curtain-made stretcher under him just before he could hit the ground, and with his face planted in the fabric, he mumbled something unintelligible. It sounded like ¡®kill lightning hornet'' to her. ¡°... This guy came stumbling to the shelter ten minutes ago, looking for you,¡± Amula said, looking at Dahlia''s as she lifted the stretcher with a loud heave, Jerie helping her out on the other end. ¡°He probably wanted you to fix him a new weapon, but when he found out you weren''t there he started running all over, saying ¡®the air smells dangerous¡¯ and ¡®not much time left¡¯. We couldn''t give him any medical treatment before he ran off, so we chased him here and¡­ well. We''ll take this guy back to the shelter so he can get some rest¨C¡± ¡°Fuck off,¡± Raya grumbled, as he rolled over and swung his swordstaff at the two seniors, making them drop his stretcher. Somehow he managed to flip himself onto his feet before his spine could even touch the ground. ¡°That lightning hornet¡­ is planning something. I smell it. I can tell. If we don''t kill it now, then it''s gonna kill all of us.¡± ¡°We already know,¡± Issam said, nodding at the younger students all around. ¡°That''s why we¡¯re here, no? According to Dahlia, that lightning hornet will start giving birth to an entire army of giant insects in two hours¡ªso don''t run off by yourself now and go at it alone. ¡°We''re ready.¡± Raya scoffed, a mocking tone in his voice, but evidently it irked the younger students enough that they unsheathed their shortswords all at once. ¡­ Dahlia shuddered alongside Eria as she noticed Raya''s half-lidded eyes twinkling with excitement. It''s only been a day since we last met. Could he have gotten that much stronger already? [He might be one of those adaptive types that grow exponentially stronger by surviving fights to the death,] Eria said. [I wonder if he can actually beat all of you as he is right now.] That wasn''t quite a reassuring thought to think about, but Dahlia wasn''t quite afraid of Raya, either. She''d not known him for a very long time¡ªshe¡¯d not known anyone here apart from Issam for a very long time¡ªbut Raya especially had always struck out to her as someone who could make the logical decision. He¡¯d already tried going at the lightning hornet alone once, and he''d failed. He wasn''t going to make the same mistake again. ¡°... Fine,¡± he said, clicking his tongue and tapping his swordstaff against the ground as he did. ¡°But I''m taking the lead on the operation. Tell me everything you know. And what the hell are you guys wearing? Are those Swarmsteel made of ants?¡± The tension in the air wasn''t completely gone, but at least it''d been transformed from ¡®potential infighting¡¯ to ¡®arguing over whether Issam or Raya would be best-fitted as the leader''. Amula threw insults at Raya, the twins started herding everyone back to the shelter for their final two hours of preparation, Jerie mediated the arguments with his flute, and for Issam¡­ throughout the entirety of Raya''s arrival, he''d not let go of Dahlia''s hand even once. Dahlia didn''t quite want to let go, either. ¡­ Eria. [Yes?] Do you want to be with Issam or Raya or Amula instead? [Why would I want that?] Because they''re stronger than me, and if you go with them, you''ll actually be able to help them against the lightning hornet. The little black bug was silent for a moment. [If I may be allowed a word of my own¨C] Of course. [¨Cwe, of the Archive of Altered Swarmsteel Systems, are incapable of forming emotional connections with our users,] Eria said plainly. [While we cannot disclose our origin or our Great Makers, we always make it an imperative order that our users understand we are not the person our voices mimic. We simply pick our voices and bug form to hasten the melding process. Once we understand everything about our users, we can take on any other voice or form as the user desires.] [Above all else, we are Swarmsteel created for war against the Swarm.] [Our capability to emphatize with our users extend only so far as to ensure perfect synchronisation in and out of battle. We cannot afford true ¡®companionship¡¯ as humans are able to do for each other. Our voices can never be given physical form, and to establish sentimental connections with our users is fundamentally impossible given the nature of our design parameters.] [So you can believe me when I say you are the bug that cannot be crushed under the boot¡ªand you are no less worthy than those you hold in high regard.] [I am glad to have served you these past three days, Dahlia Sina.] ¡­ The little black bug could say all that without batting an eye, so while she kept on walking, she dipped her head and allowed herself a tiny smile. ¡­ Thank you, Eria. I think¡­ I¡¯ll give you a new name after this is over. You wouldn¡¯t want to stay as ¡®Eria¡¯ for the rest of my life, right? Eria tilted its head curiously. [I do not particularly mind, but I do appreciate the implication. [Now, go forth and defeat the lightning hornet.] [End this invasion once and for all.] Chapter 30 - Storm Amidst a game of tag set up by Instructor Biem, little Dahlia stops and stares up at the ceiling. Raya immediately flies in and knocks her to the ground, defending his title of unbeatable champion once again. Little Dahlia doesn¡¯t stop staring at the ceiling even as Issam and the others walk up to her, offering her a helping hand. ¡°... What¡¯s wrong, Dahlia?¡± he asks. She doesn¡¯t answer. She doesn¡¯t look at him. The twins turn to call Instructor Biem over while Issam goes over to fight Raya¡ªhe must¡¯ve figured Raya tapped her a little too hard on the head¡ªbut little Dahlia just can¡¯t bring herself to tell them she¡¯s feeling nauseous about ¡®something¡¯ on the surface. Above the ceiling, above the earth and stone¡ªthere is ¡®something¡¯ crawling on a hundred legs, and the revulsion is making her feel sick to the stomach. Instructor Biem kneels next to her, placing a hand on her forehead. She breathes heavily, her hands clenching her stomach. She doesn¡¯t know why she thinks she can sense something over several hundreds of metres away, but that doesn¡¯t change the fact that she does feel nauseous, she does feel her blood roiling inside her veins. It¡¯s scary. It¡¯s repulsive. It¡¯s¨C ¡°A bug-hunter¡¯s instinct,¡± Instructor Biem says, as he sighs and picks her up over his shoulder, carrying her back into the Bug-Hunting School. ¡°Perhaps it¡¯s a good thing you¡¯re so deathly afraid of living bugs. If you¡¯re not, you¡¯d get lazy. You won¡¯t be able to see them when you need to see them the most. Now, it¡¯s equally important that you don¡¯t clench your fists out of fear, but compared to the likes of Raya and Issam¡ªthe two of them don¡¯t seem to be afraid at all¡ªyou stand a much higher chance at surviving a strong bug encounter. ¡°So it¡¯s alright.¡± She casts a hopeful, trembling glance at him, and he sends a scornful glare up at the ceiling in response. ¡°... Oh, I sense it too,¡± he says, eyes darkening. ¡°They skitter around up there sometimes, probing the ground, trying to claw through the earth. It¡¯s not exactly common, but I do feel it every once in a while. ¡°And you felt them too, huh? ¡°You better put that instinct of yours to good use one day, if not only for the rest of your classmates.¡± - Scene from Bug-Hunting School past
¡­ Thirty minutes before midnight. Twenty-eight students of the Alshifa Bug-Hunting School set off from the shelter with two hundred and ninety volunteers in tow, clad in bullet ant armour and draped over by silver feather-pattern shawls across their torsos¡ªtheir first and final symbol of defiance against the dark star that dared fall upon their home. Tonight, there would be no battle. There would only be a ¡®hunt¡¯. With Issam and Raya both leading the group, they travelled fast but quiet to the Bazaar in the centre of town; the broken scenery up to that point was all but already familiar to them. The grass around them had been dyed red with blood, the main roads outlined in heavy stenches of iron and rancid odours. Torn and tattered canopies dotted the streets running up to the bazaar, vendor carriages abandoned, entire stores and stalls toppled sideways from having giant insects run into them on the first day of the invasion. Now, the only difference was there were no giant insects roaming around¡ªthe ants had torn them apart, the lightning hornet had electrocuted them out of irritation, or Raya had slain them all while running circles around the northern end of town. For these three reasons alone there was peace as they trudged up the sloped street. Nobody really said much of anything. Nobody felt like wasting their breath before the final encounter. Near the top of the street, before they were about to step foot into the Bazaar, Issam brushed the hairs on his ant bracers in a circle. All of the bug-hunting students immediately scattered to their designated positions the moment they smelled the citrusy scent wafting from him, the command they¡¯d agreed as ¡®attack¡¯¡ªonly, of course, they weren¡¯t ever going to attack the lightning hornet outright. Four first-year students scaled the three-storey buildings on the circular Bazaar¡¯s right, taking off their heavy satchels to begin setting up their firefly cages. Seven second-years scaled the buildings on the Bazaar¡¯s left, arranging even stronger firefly lamps in neat, orderly rows. Eight third-years ducked into a side alley and began unfurling their fabric puppet, courtesy of the old textile store ladies at the shelter having given it their all rushing out such a massive project. Two of the fourth-years jumped onto the walls of another side alley, carefully taking out dozens of glass canisters and fixing them to the walls with sticky tree sap. The fifth-years were laying atop a completely different roof altogether, observing the preparation from up high, while the rest of the emergency volunteers were standing by just a bit below the Bazaar, peeking over their crates and sandbag covers with their fingers twiddling nervously. Dahlia, who was lying flat on her stomach next to Issam and Raya, had half a mind to scramble down and tell the non-fighting townsfolk to return to the shelter¡­ but perhaps it wouldn¡¯t really matter either way. As long as they stayed out of sight, they shouldn¡¯t, theoretically, come under any fire¡ªand if all of the students were to fall here, it wasn¡¯t as though anyone would live to see another morning, shelter or not. There was no reason for everyone to not be here, even if all the townsfolk could do was hand out supplies and construct emergency shelters for any students wounded in the hunt. Surely having support on-hand was better than not having any when they needed it the most. ¡­ It¡¯s just sitting there, though. Why is it sitting like that? She shook her head, cleared her mind of the townsfolk, and turned her focus back onto their opponent in the centre of the Bazaar¡ªthe lightning hornet with four arms and two legs, black and gold stripes across its smooth beetle-like chitin. It looked very so eerily humanoid in both the way it sat, cross-legged, propping up its head with two of its fists, and the way its beady compound eyes were just staring off into the distance, as though it wasn¡¯t even really breathing and living; it was living, without a doubt, but anyone not equipped with the sensitive hairs of the ant bracers might not be able to tell for sure. Now that Dahlia had both the cricket and the ant bracers on to increase her perceptivity, she could almost see a faint¡­ ¡®aura¡¯, around it. It was bluish, swirly air waves, tinged with the sickly scent of sweetness enveloping its body in a five metre bubble radius. She almost felt nauseous just looking at the air shimmering around it. [It is a Mutant, after all,] Eria mumbled, crawling further forward on her shoulder to get a better look at the lightning hornet. [While those of you with high perceptivity can see the physical shimmers it causes simply by inhabiting a space, even those of you without high perceptivity can tell a Mutant from a normal insect simply by its behaviour¡ªyou can consider them giant insects with ¡®intent¡¯ and ¡®desire¡¯ to mimic humanity¡¯s nature, and their form reflects their deviant behaviour.] They¡­ mimic¡­ humans? [Normal insects do not usually stand on two legs,] Eria pointed out. [Mutants try. They attempt to use tools with their claws and talons like humans do. They mutate shutters and specialised membranes so they can blink like humans do. They keep their unconventional insect appendages and abilities concealed until they really need to use them. Particularly powerful Mutants are even capable of human speech, and while sympathy may be beyond their ken of understanding, the Seven Great Mutants across the Seven Swarmsteel Fronts are, indeed, able to wield empathy as weapons against humanity¡ªso etch this into your heart, Dahlia Sina.] [Under no circumstances should you pay any heed to what they have to say.] [They are pure dark stars who envy the joys of humanity, and they cannot be reasoned with so long as they believe they are greater than you.] And¡­ this hornet in front of us¡­ is it also capable of¨C [It does not appear to be capable of human speech right now, but if it is allowed to live and continue metamorphosing, it might one day emerge from Alshifa as a powerful Mutant even the surface dwellers will have trouble dealing with.] [So be ready.] [I do not wish upon you any harm, but if the need arises and the opportunity presents itself, you must kill the lightning hornet even at the cost of a few lives.] [The surface, too, is at stake.] ¡­ She tightened her lips and gripped the edge of the roof, her claws digging into the stone. The trembling in her body must¡¯ve been pretty obvious, because Issam patted her on the back and mouthed something at her¡ªsomething along the lines of ¡®we got this¡¯, she thought. It didn¡¯t really reassure her after hearing what Eria had to say about their opponent, but¡­ Still, she swallowed a gulp and nodded at him slowly. ¡­ Let¡¯s do this. [Well, you do have quite the elaborate set of traps laid out for it,] Eria offered, a smidgen of consolation. [If they all go off without issue, my calculations say there is a ninety-five percent chance the lightning hornet will be severely weakened, allowing all of you to converge upon it and kill it in melee. That is an acceptable percentage.] [Have faith, Dahlia.] [You will see the sun rise again.] A gust of cold wind whistled through the hole in the ceiling, and apart from Dahlia, all the fifth-years rose onto their knees to wave at each of the scattered groups. The first-years immediately sent their thumbs-up back. The second-years did much the same. There was a bit of delay before one of the third-years poked his head out of the alley, nodding profusely, while the fourth-years were completely unresponsive. Frowning, Issam whispered for Dahlia to go check up on them, so she obliged with a small nod¡ªsprinting low and fast across the roofs, vaulting down a few pipes and pallets as she did. Just before she could peek over the edge and see what the fourth-years assigned to sticking the glass canisters onto the walls were doing, her bracers squeezed down on her arms and made her wince. ¡­ She turned. She looked. The lightning hornet was staring up at her, head swivelled, looking entirely bored with the scenario they¡¯d set up around it. ¡­ It knows we¡¯re here. And the moment the fourth-years poked their heads up over the edge, shooting their thumbs-up back at Issam, the citrus command of ¡®attack¡¯ was given. The hunt began. Two, three, four shadows blurred down from the fifth-years¡¯ building, and the twins laughed as they fanned their moth mantles outwards; a storm of withered autumn leaves came out whirling, swirling, Jerie¡¯s screeching cicada song making the lightning hornet reel momentarily. It didn¡¯t take long for the leaves to envelop the lightning hornet in a giant dome, but this time, unlike with the beetle on the bridge, Amula was here with her Swarmsteel. She was ready. Charging. Heels flaring with a fierce orange glow. She soared over the dome, kicked violently down, and the spark from her bombardier beetle boots ignited the leaves¡ªfire spreading beautifully across the air like a spiderweb lit aflame. The heat was palpable; even Dahlia braced her arms in front of her face as she peeked out through a tiny gap. The lightning hornet, of course, wasn¡¯t fazed by this attack. It could wield physical lightning, of all things¡ªa bit of fire dancing around it wouldn¡¯t scare it at all. So it rose to its feet, shrugged its shoulders, and walked straight ahead at the four fifth-years clinging to the side of a building. ¡­ Eria. [What is it?] Are we one hundred percent sure it''s an oriental hornet? [... It is difficult to determine the exact species of a Mutant, but it is, observably, a hornet capable of harnessing electrical potential. There is only one known hornet species in the world with that capability, and that is the oriental hornet,] Eria said, hesitating for a moment. [In that case, your traps designed to damage any general hornet should be able to damage the Mutant as well. You do not have to worry.] [Watch.] The second wave of citrus scent was emitted, the order to attack given¡ªthe first-years hiding on the roof right above the fifth-years shot to their feet all at once, slamming the cages in their hands to make the fireflies inside screech in terror. There were dozens of cages, all the fireflies handpicked from the shelter¡¯s reserves as the brightest and strongest fireflies there were in Alshifa; it showed with the flaring ball of light that blinded the lightning hornet for a good few seconds, making it stumble back in pain. The first-years didn¡¯t stop there. With the fifth-years¡¯ help, they slid off the roof with the cages in hand and continued shaking the fireflies, forcing the lightning hornet back with Jerie¡¯s song in tow, step by step until it eventually backed into the opposite end of the Bazaar. Then the second-years slammed their rows of firefly lamps, and the flaring ball of light became the sun in its own right, shining so fiercely down at the Bazaar that the lightning hornet was caught completely off-guard. The second attack order was given¡ªover fifty firefly lanterns joined together to drive the lightning hornet further and further back from the Bazaar, and once it neared the narrow alley Dahlia and the fourth-years were waiting in, the giant fabric puppet rose into its gargantuan ten metre form; the silhouette of a wolf spider backlit by the moon, every individual leg manipulated by a third-year pulling its strings. [We may not know what mutations the oriental hornet has, but as long as it is a hornet, it will feel a compulsion to retreat against its natural predators.] [It is a good thing you know what giant wolf spiders look like, and relayed the information to the old ladies of the textile stores.] [Faced with the harsh lighting and the panic induced by its natural predator, the oriental hornet will understand fear.] Everything was set. Everything was working a little too well. The fireflies blinded it from above, the fake wolf spider trudged forward and made it retreat deeper into the alley, Jerie¡¯s cicada flute screeching and blaring to make it clamp its hands around its head¡ªDahlia didn¡¯t notice Issam¡¯s order for her to retreat specifically. The two fourth-years had to fly over the edge to pull her off the building, just as they yanked the final set of cords and released the glass canisters they¡¯d fixed to the walls of the alley. Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit. Dozens of bombardier beetle extract canisters shattered against the ground, drenching the walls and the lightning hornet in a cloud of burnt, charcoal-like scents. ¡°... Krrk.¡± The lightning bug made a small sound with its clicking mandibles, but that was about all it managed to get out before Raya cut through the giant wolf spider puppet with a single cleave of his swordstaff¡ªthe second sky-to-ground cleave sparking a line of fire that ignited the alley drenched in the extract. Dahlia hadn¡¯t yet come to stop being thrown back by the fourth-years when the explosion made the Bazaar rattle. Red hot energy burst outwards from the alley, toppling the two buildings on both sides and making the ground implode upon contact. A tidal wave of smoke and dirt shot into the sky and came down with the viscosity of ash. Unbridled carnage, pure destruction; the guttural screams of an entire section of the Bazaar crumbling on itself made everyone wince as they took cover behind whatever they could use as one. Even still, a storm of shrapnel caught Dahlia on the thighs and neck where she was mostly unprotected, though her arms were clenched so tightly over her face she didn¡¯t feel much of the heat blasting into her eyes. It must¡¯ve been a good ten seconds, or twenty. Lying flat on her stomach by the side of the Bazaar with the two fourth-years covering her, she couldn¡¯t look up because of the heat until enough smoke subsided; it was a whole minute before anyone dared to open their eyes and release their hands from their ears, staring daggers into the column of roaring flames where the lightning hornet had last been seen. ¡­ Tick. Click. Flick. Despite having been told their elaborate traps would only weaken it at best, she couldn¡¯t help but shudder as a stray crunch of gravel under the lightning hornet¡¯s claws shattered the uneasy silence. Fear spread across the students like wildfire as the dark shadow rose within the flames, azure lightning sparking around its four arms in stark contrast to the red all around. It was the height of biology¡ªan explosion that would¡¯ve killed the giant pine sawyer beetle twenty times over was nothing more than a slight impediment to its movement. It took a step forward, through the fire, and Dahlia gritted her teeth. It took another step forward, out of the fire¨C ¡°Gotcha.¡± And Issam took his own step forward, mantis scythes sharpening his blade, severing its bulky abdomen from behind with a single swift blow. ¡­ Its abdomen rolled. Its body fell slump onto the ground, landing hard on its armoured chest. For the briefest of seconds its wings flapped as though it were trying to take off, but now anyone could tell they were just the twitchings of muscles still believing they were alive. The lightning hornet had its heart separated from the rest of its body, before it could even make a single move, and now there were only the harsh, crackling sounds of the Bazaar burning to cinders around them. ¡­ Just like that? [Just like that,] Eria muttered. [While most insect hearts are tubular structures that run along the entire length of its body, close to the dorsal surface, there is usually a ¡®heart opening¡¯ that can be targeted as a vital point. For a hornet, that would be severing its abdomen from its thorax.] I¡­ see. But still she found herself shaking, her pulse thundering in her ears, pain shooting up her arms from her bracers tightening over them too hard. It wasn¡¯t just a feeling of ¡®wrongness¡¯, she thought, as the students around her erupted into great cheers and raced forward to hug the fifth-years who¡¯d executed their part perfectly¡ªit was a feeling of impending doom that kept her heart hostage. While everyone else celebrated, she remained lying flat on the ground, her eyes the only eyes in the Bazaar still locked onto the fallen lightning hornet. ¡­ But if you knew we were here, why didn¡¯t you attack us first? Something tingled on the back of her waistband. Vibrating. Humming. Frowning, she reached behind her and pulled out her pocket watch, staring at the flickering second hand. Why didn¡¯t you try to use your lightning early on? She flicked the glass on the pocket watch, trying to get the second hand moving again. It didn¡¯t work. Why didn¡¯t you move even though you knew your giant insects were all dead? She flicked the glass again. This time a second, fleeting strand of electricity ran down the second hand, and suddenly the entire pocket watch stopped working altogether. Were you that confident you could walk into our trap and still win? Why? Surely you¡¯re not that much stronger than us, right? If you believed you were, then¡­ What¡­ exactly¡­ were you planning¡­ by letting us cut off your¡­ heart¡­ ¡­ Then she tore her eyes away from her pocket watch, noticing the black and gold stripes on the back of the lightning hornet¡¯s chitin. She noticed the black and gold segmented antennae on its severed head. She noticed the single red line running up its spine. She noticed the dozens of small horizontal slits on the sides of its waist, flapping in the winds like the gills of a fish. And the faint spark of azure lightning, coming from its still-twitching claws, reflected like stars in her eyes. ¡­ You¡¯re not a hornet. You¡¯re a¨C A jolt rippled up her spine as Eria took control of her body, and the voice that roared out her mouth wasn¡¯t her own. [DOWN!] [EVERYONE, GET DOWN NOW¨C] Blue particles gathered around the ¡®hornet¡¯ as it clenched all four of its fists, punching the ground. The students lurched. The undertown trembled. Her pocket watch exploded in her hand, metal shards carving her palm open. The twins managed to fling both Issam and Raya back in an instant, while Jerie handled Amula by tossing her Dahlia¡¯s way¡ªthe rest of them weren¡¯t so fortunate. The flash came before the sound; a storm of lightning bolts burst out from its gill-like slits, blasting the flames away, ripping through the closest ten students and tearing them in half. Left, right, above, behind, the azure flashes streaked across the Bazaar and obliterated everything standing in their way. Rubble shards flew everywhere as the resulting boom arrived, shattering windows, toppling lampposts, throwing Dahlia back just as she rose to her feet to scream at everyone. Shit! This is¨C Pain. Deafening noise. She hit the side of a carriage on her way out of the Bazaar, spine arching as an airy gasp escaped her throat, and she would¡¯ve started rolling down to the shelter had two of the townsfolk not caught her by the wrists. People were shouting, once hopeful voices turned to sheer panic¡ªin mere seconds the Bazaar had turned from a battlefield marred with wildfire to one crackling with unchecked electricity. While she struggled to claw onto her feet and the townsfolk below shouted up at her in worry, a dozen more people were sent flying out of the Bazaar by the winds, soaring over their heads; half of them were broken and steaming corpses struck directly by lightning, but the other half were still alive. Still breathing. Instinctively she reached up to grab one of them before they could start tumbling down the same way she¡¯d been, and she caught him, the mantis swordsman who¡¯d been closest to the origin of the blast. As Raya, Amula, Jerie, and the twins were caught and pulled down by the townsfolk behind her as well, she crawled onto her knees and yanked Issam up with her. Thank fortune he¡¯d not been hit by a single bolt directly¡ªhe most certainly would¡¯ve been split in half had the twins not reacted as fast as they had¡ªso all it took was him shaking his head a few times before the light in his eyes came back. Taking cover behind the wall of sandbags the townsfolk had put up across the entire street, the two of them held their breaths as the Mutant in the centre of the Bazaar ¡®deflated¡¯; the azure glow inside its torso fading, its body making horrific squelching noises while it regrew a new abdomen from its bleeding hip. This time, it made no attempts to conceal what it really was. ¡°... It¡¯s not¡­ a hornet,¡± she hissed, gasping slightly when she felt a painful prick in her waist; she looked down and paled at the sight of a small wooden stake sticking out her waist, between the chinks of her chestplate. ¡°It¡¯s¡­ ah¡­ it¡¯s not a hornet. It¡¯s what you¡¯d call a¡­ a¡­ hah¨C¡± [¨CInjecting emergency adrenaline¨C] ¡°¨CIt¡¯s a photuris firefly,¡± she finished, through gritted teeth, as the rest of the fifth-years crawled up to where she and Issam were¡ªright behind the sandbags, overlooking the Bazaar. ¡°It¡¯s a unique species of firefly that eats other fireflies, and it does so with what¡¯s called ¡®aggressive mimicry¡¯. There are many types of aggressive mimicry, but what it really means, in this case¨C¡± ¡°It¡¯s smart enough to pretend to be something else while keeping its true claws concealed all this time, huh? So it can see what our strongest attack is before deciding if it wants to fight?¡± Amula muttered, her face grimey with soot, a dozen small cuts peppered across her skin as she shook her head. ¡°This won¡¯t do. We can¡¯t fight it like this. We have to retreat, consolidate our forces, and then¨C¡± Easier said than done, of course. No longer was the firefly interested in hiding its true colours. In order to determine if they were capable of killing it, it¡¯d even went so far as to let Issam get up so he could sever a third of its body from behind¡ªand if that wasn¡¯t enough to make it stay down, then surely they had no more destructive cards up their sleeves. Tick. Click. Flick. The firefly screeched at the top of its tubules and started jerking its claws around, flinging lightning bolts out its palms in every conceivable direction, in no particular pattern, all with intent to kill; the few students who¡¯d managed to survive the initial burst and were crawling in Dahlia¡¯s direction were taken out first, lightning snapping down like living tendrils and shattering their spines through their chestplates like they were made out of glass. Other bolts whipped across the undertown, striking buildings a hundred metres away, weakening boulders on the ceiling and beginning a full-on collapse of the artificial cavern. She stared up in shock as small rocks started falling from the ceiling and landed around her, the street beneath her cracking as crystal dust exploded from their impacts. The townsfolk immediately shouted and started rushing them off to the side of the streets, beneath flimsy tarp covers and overhanging roofs, but the lightning bolts just kept on firing, the firefly showing no signs of stopping anytime soon. Her breaths quickened and formed cold clouds that floated up towards the moon in the sky. She could smell sulphur in the air and she wanted to puke. The lightning bolts were so bright just looking at them made her eyes burn, but¡­ she couldn¡¯t look away. The townsfolk weren¡¯t looking away, Issam and the others weren¡¯t looking, and neither was Eria¡ªshe¡¯d be damned if she turned away from the students she¡¯d just killed with her faulty strategy. What¡­ could she do now? ¡°I thought you chopped its heart off, though?¡± Aylee shouted in Issam¡¯s ears, pulling her further under the tarp as a boulder the size of her head smashed into the ground where she¡¯d been kneeling. ¡°How¡¯d it just¡­ grow a new abdomen? How¡¯s that even biologically possible? Were we just hallucinating or what?¡± ¡°Issam cut it clean off! I saw it for sure!¡± Ayla shouted back, slapping Aylee on the back of her head, scowling fiercely. ¡°It¡¯s a Mutant, right? We already knew it had insane physical capabilities, so maybe it can survive even without a functioning heart! We have to aim for something else! Somewhere else!¡± Aylee whirled on her twin. ¡°Like? Like what? The heart wasn¡¯t enough? Do we have to incinerate it for it to¨C¡± ¡°Dahlia! Is your little friend saying anything? What¡¯s its weakness? Where do we have to cut?¡± ¡°Stupid! If Dahlia knew, she¡¯d have told us about it before we went out there with our swords like fucking idiots!¡± Amula snapped, scowling at Issam as she did. ¡°Are you sure you cut through its heart, chitin and all? It¡¯s a bug, right? Does it even have a heart? What did you feel when you cut it?¡± ¡°Nothing! I cut it! And what happened back there isn¡¯t important right now!¡± Issam said, stabbing his blade into the ground as he panted for breath, and it was only now that Dahlia noticed they were all in various states of injure; the twins were clutching their burned shoulders, skin and flesh were hanging off Jerie and Amula¡¯s faces, while Issam and Raya were kneeling hunched over with blood sleazing down their legs. Shrapnel. Wooden fragments. Issam growled and thumbed out into the Bazaar. ¡°We need a new strategy now! We don¡¯t have much time left! We can¡¯t afford to leave and come back in another hour¡ªwith just the six of us, what can we do to beat it in a head-on fight?¡± Amula looked at him like he was crazy. ¡°You want to fight it head-on? Are you seeing what we¡¯re seeing? Can you even think about blocking or dodging a lightning bolt¨C¡± ¡°What, so we¡¯ll just sit here and get crushed by our own cavern? You got a better idea?¡± ¡°We can retreat to the shelter!¡± one of the townsfolk said, chiming in from behind with a dozen more people nodding furiously. All of them whirled at once, desperate eyes boring holes into the non-combatants, and the poor man gulped nervously. ¡°We have enough supplies to last another week! Even if that thing brings down the entire cavern, the shelter will hold, and the rubble burying us from the outside will stop any insect from getting to us! We can hold on! You don¡¯t have to go out there and fight again!¡± ¡°And then we¡¯ll start eating each other once we start starving in three weeks?¡± Ayla said, slamming the wall next to her with her fist. ¡°No! We can¡¯t do that! Either it dies here, or we die here! We have to stop it before it can bring down the rest of the cavern!¡± ¡°But you don¡¯t know how to kill it, do you?¡± another lady said, her voice shuddering as she raised her hand. ¡°Issam¡­ Issam cut off its heart. And it¡¯s still not dead. Doesn¡¯t that mean¡­ it¡¯s immortal? If that¡¯s the case, then¨C¡± ¡°Then? So what? We still have to try! Issam, Jerie, back me up here! It¡¯s got to have a weakness somehow! We just have to look¨C¡± ¡°Issam didn¡¯t cut off its heart,¡± Dahlia whispered, claws curled over the edge of the sandbags as she grinded her teeth, glaring straight at the firefly. ¡°We completely misread it. If it¡¯s a hornet, its heart opening would be in its abdomen, but if it¡¯s a firefly, its heart opening should be somewhere around its thorax¡­ somewhere between its waist and shoulders. ¡°But I just¡­ we just need to know when there¡¯s an opening, because if we don¡¯t¨C¡± a lightning bolt zapped over their heads, cutting along the side of the buildings, and the townsfolk under and behind them screamed in terror ¡°¨Cwe¡¯ll never be able to get close enough to it to even try cutting it again. ¡°So I need¡­ time. ¡°Five minutes. ¡°If I can have five minutes to stare at it, I¡­ I promise I¡¯ll figure out its lightning¡¯s weakness.¡± Everyone grimaced and lowered their heads. She couldn¡¯t even blame them for it. She gave them hope by saying she could analyse how to possibly evade its strongest attacks, but then she took it all away by saying she needed five whole minutes of doing nothing in order to figure it out¡ªat the firefly¡¯s current rate of throwing lightning bolts around all haphazardly, they¡¯d be struck by a stray or have a boulder fall on them within a minute or two, let alone five. It was an impossible demand. It was the worst case scenario. It¡¯d take a miracle for her to last five whole minutes without moving, or¨C ¡°So you mean you just need to see it dance around for five minutes, right?¡± It¡¯d take a godsent talent to buy her five whole minutes. And nobody dared to breathe as Raya rose to his feet, thumping the end of his swordstaff against the ground as he rolled his shoulders. ¡°... I got this,¡± he said, glancing Dahlia¡¯s way. ¡°You better pay attention, girl. I¡¯ll only do this once. If you miss even the tiniest of details, I¡¯ll¨C¡± ¡°Where the fuck are you going?¡± Amula hissed, grabbing Raya¡¯s wrist as he took a step out of cover. ¡°You¡¯re insane. You¡¯re out of line. You¡­ you¡¯ll die if you go out there alone.¡± Raya looked at her like she was crazy. ¡°I¡¯m the strongest. I can go five minutes.¡± ¡°No, you¡¯re not,¡± she said, gritting her teeth so hard Dahlia could hear her jaw creaking. ¡°I¡¯m¡­ I¡¯m the strongest. Remember? You lost to me. Me. And if I say you can¡¯t do it, then¡­ then¡­ ¡°...¡± She couldn¡¯t finish her sentence before tears started welling in the corner of her eyes, because it didn¡¯t take magic for anyone to figure out it was a black, giant lie. To that end, Raya simply chuckled and pulled his wrist away¡ªsmirking at Dahlia and Issam as he walked out into the Bazaar. ¡°... I am the strongest. ¡°So just watch me make it work. ¡°And I¡¯ll be repaying that favour I owe you, once and for all.¡± Chapter 31 - Godsent Talent ¡°... Do you know what ¡®fate¡¯ is, Dahlia?¡± her father says idly, barely looking over his shoulder as he continues assembling his claws by the living room table. Little Dahlia rolls over on the sofa, burying her face deeper into the cushions. ¡°Can you eat it?¡± Her father laughs, shaking his head. ¡°No. Fate isn¡¯t something you eat.¡± ¡°What¡¯s that, then?¡± ¡°It¡¯s the path that everyone is put on at birth. My mentor used to tell me everyone is controlled by the same fate, and all of us are just cogs turning in an invisible machine¡ªthat¡¯s why if you fail at a test, it is only fate that made you fail. There¡¯s no need to feel bad and get yourself down over something you couldn¡¯t control.¡± ¡°But you don¡¯t believe in that either, papa.¡± ¡°... ¡°... No, I don¡¯t. I¡¯m talented enough to succeed at everything I try, after all; damn if I let fate take that away from me. ¡°See, Dahlia, we¡¯re not all just born with fate. We¡¯re born with ¡®destiny¡¯ as well, and that means everybody has at least one thing they¡¯re incredibly, incredibly good at. I¡¯ve seen it, time and time again¡ªall it takes is one miraculous destiny to turn everything everyone thinks is impossible right upside down. ¡°So who cares if you failed this one test? ¡°There¡¯ll be another, on a completely different subject, and maybe you¡¯ll get every question correct without even having to study. ¡°Find your destiny and resist your fate¡ªthat is the path to a life full of struggle, but full of satisfaction all the same.¡± ¡°...¡± ¡°...¡± ¡°... I want candy.¡± ¡°Okay. Let¡¯s go get some before mama comes home.¡± - Conversation from Sina Household past
The seconds that followed Raya¡¯s leaving the sandbag covers came as a blur. His steps were heavy, his swordstaff was rattling as he walked, he had no intention of keeping himself hidden¡ªthe firefly in the centre of the Bazaar stopped throwing lightning when it finally noticed him dragging his blade along the ground. The never-ending lightning storm in her ears died down. Boulders stopped falling from the ceiling, buildings stopped collapsing in the far distance. The silence didn¡¯t fool her for a second; the firefly most certainly knew the rest of them were still alive, cowering in the shadows of Alshifa, but to it they were simple pests too weak and cowardly to confront it head-on. It wouldn¡¯t falter no matter what they did, so why would it be in a rush to slaughter them like the bugs they were? There was a much, much, much more interesting opponent heading its way. [¡­ How does he know to do that?] Refusing to unclench her claws from the sandbags and unwilling to tear her eyes away from the firefly for even a single second, Dahlia didn¡¯t dare look at Eria now. How does he know to do¡­ what? [Look, and listen.] She was looking. And so was everyone else, holding their breaths behind the sandbags. Days of accumulated dust and grains sparked bright orange as Raya dragged his swordstaff along the ground, making sharp, horrific, chitin-scratching screeches with his blade¡ªthe sounds drove deep into her, making her Swarmsteel itch and ebb over her arms. She paused in biting her tongue, realising only now why the firefly had really stopped tossing lightning bolts around. [When an insect is searching for a mate, the most common methods include pheromone detection, courtship rituals, and specific sound recognition. Of course, some of the Odonata insects engage in mid-air encounters to find their mates, while some of the Lepidoptera insects engage in mass competitive displays called lek gatherings in search of prospective partners, but most insects tend to utilise the same foundation of methods in order to attract one another.] [In the case of fireflies, they tend to flash in certain patterns at certain intervals to signal they are interested in an engagement¡ªa dance, or an invitation to duel.] [And in Raya¡¯s case, the way he is dragging his blade along the ground, the sparks that are flying as a result¡­] ¡­ Raya circled around the Bazaar with fluid and heavy steps, his right hand dragging his swordstaff behind him, his left hand hanging limp by his side. There was a slight limp in his gait, a slight hunch to his back; he might be ten times as strong as Dahlia, still, but he was nowhere near rested enough to be picking a fight against a Mutant. He¡¯d already been electrocuted once before, he¡¯d had his spine smashed into the ground by Amula, he¡¯d spent the entire past day slaughtering the rest of the Swarm in Alshifa¡ªthat feral amber glow in his eyes wasn¡¯t meant to throw the firefly off-guard. He was that exhausted. He was that desperate. And when he tilted his head to glare at it from a different angle, the firefly tilted its head back; a perfect mimicry, his opponent completely tunnel-visioned on his every move. ¡­ But it¡¯s a photuris firefly. She gritted her teeth and paid attention to the way the firefly¡¯s chest heaved up and down, the way its chitin cracked and bent whenever it moved a tiny inch; she had to observe everything it was voluntarily showing her. They¡¯re firefly killers. The photuris females can imitate the flashes of other firefly species¡¯ females, and when some unsuspecting male gets close enough thinking he found a mate, they¡¯d slaughter and devour him without a second thought. How do we know it doesn¡¯t think Raya is just an unsuspecting male in its eyes? What if it¡¯s just waiting for him to charge in? [... You were the one who said it two nights ago.] The firefly¡¯s antennae twitched, and it happened almost instantaneously, one of its arms whipping out as it flung a lightning bolt forward¨C [You called him the godsent talent.] But Raya smacked the bolt with the end of his swordstaff, letting the lightning run itself into the ground, before closing the distance with a quick half-step. The upwards slash was faster than instantaneous¡ªone of the firefly¡¯s antennae fluttered into the sky, and it dashed back with a gust of wind as Raya¡¯s swordstaff descended for a second slash, shattering the ground with a hefty boom. His stance solidified. He shed his shawl and coat as he swung his swordstaff horizontally, slicing through the second bolt of lightning flying his way. It split, forking out and maiming the buildings behind him, tearing down huge chunks of stone as he closed the distance again; this time the firefly lost its second antennae, and this time it refused to hold anything back. The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. Swordstaff clashed against four lightning-swirled arms, human bones and insect chitin flashing sharp white for the briefest of moments¡ªlow growls escaped from both of their throats as they each took a step back, limping in circles around each other. Then the battle was on. The firefly came at him swinging, screeching, claws lunging for his head, and he responded in kind with a flurry of slashes¡ªmatching four arms with a single blade. Raya was reacting just barely in time to every attack, but his slashes were anything but whimsy; it targeted his vitals while he targeted its extremities, the vulnerabilities, everything he could reach before having his weapon batted away. Only one of them could afford getting cut here and there. He knew to make the most out of the few hits he could land, always keeping close in range without letting off the pressure. ¡®Never-ending fireworks¡¯ was the phrase Dahlia would use to describe their clash. Fast! Earth shattered like glass as the firefly began slashing with lightning charging its claws, and the street around them exploded upwards, every tile breaking under the force. Raya dashed circles around the firefly, catching embers with his blade before slinging it into the firefly¡¯s back, thighs, and calves; only, the firefly had allowed him to do so. Maybe it¡¯d let Issam cut its abdomen off earlier as well just to prove a point. The Swarmsteel she¡¯d been so proud of bounced off its chitin like it was made of cloth, and five lightning claws ripped across Raya¡¯s chest as he tried backing off, tearing his tunic to reveal the charred flesh he¡¯d gotten from it just days earlier. Amula shot to her feet and screamed at him to leave, but the twins yanked her down and Issam clamped a hand over her mouth, hissing at her to be quiet. Because while Raya stumbled a few steps back, as though he was about to lose his balance¡ªhe used the imbalance to tip himself back, and then forward with a downwards cleave that almost split the lunging firefly¡¯s head in half. On his face was the most feral and savage smile Dahlia had seen yet. [... He is not even wearing any of your bullet ant Swarmsteel. In terms of toughness, speed, and perceptivity, he should not be able to react to anything any of the younger students cannot react to.] [Even still¨C] I know. Her eyes watered, and it burned all the same as her claws dug deeper into the sandbags. He¡¯s not¡­ he¡¯s not trying to kill it. Eria was quiet, and so was everyone else as they watched Raya dance circles around the firefly. Even an amateur at fighting like Dahlia could tell his blows were real, bled in with all his effort, but without true ¡®killing intent¡¯; the diagonal cuts to its shoulders were meant to probe its chitin¡¯s weaknesses; the attempted leg sweeps were meant to test its balance; the swordstaff she was confident could split entire carriages apart was being used as nothing more as a needle to draw pinpricks of blood, and that was because he knew he couldn¡¯t win. His body wouldn¡¯t let him. Lightning crackled and travelled down the firefly¡¯s arms like cascading rivers, every blow he had to block sending jolts rippling through his bones and tearing his muscles apart¡ªa whirlwind of electrically-charged shrapnel kicking up a storm around their flashing forms. But, on occasion, Raya would find one second out of five minutes to glare back at her. His amber eyes were still brimming with cold fury. ¡­ I¡¯m watching. She bit so hard on her lips she drew blood, but his unbreakable spirit was diffused across those watching his blade fly¡ªnobody watching him believed he would ¡®lose¡¯, and everyone was watching, cheering, roaring for his victory. We. Are. Watching. The firefly bellowed, like a cacophony of voices each screeching individually, none in sync; it¡¯d seen everything Raya had to offer and grew tired of him. A high-pitched series of whirs came from inside its chest as it skipped a single metre back, clenching all four of its fists, and before she could even see the little slits on its waist beginning to glow¡ªRaya stabbed his swordstaff into the ground. The townsfolk covered their ears and curled into balls. The twins shoved Amula and Jerie down, and Issam practically yanked her hair out as she was made to fall behind the sandbags completely; just a second longer and she would¡¯ve been done for. It punched the ground and released its omni-directional lightning explosion again. The sounds of annihilation. The groans of the cavern. If she could place her ear down on the ground she¡¯d feel the vibration of the town, the screams of the lightning bolts, and the unholy cracks that rang out wherever the bolts landed¡­ and while she caught a glimpse of the firefly shuddering through a gap in the sandbags, both its eyes were coated in sapphire hues bright enough to rival the sun¨C There was no sound. There was no scream of effort. As the standing, burning corpse he was, Raya gripped the blunt end of his swordstaff with only three of his remaining fingers and swung. The blade was impossibly slow, the attack was undoubtedly feeble¡ªbut it landed nonetheless, severing its lower left arm and cutting halfway through its torso. Her eyes widened. It¡­ didn¡¯t try to block? Why? Is it¡­ ¡­ ¡­ But halfway through its torso was as far as the godsent talent could go. Right before his swordstaff could reach where the firefly¡¯s heart should be, he lost all strength in his arm and fell backwards, every last inch of his body reduced to ashes from having swung through the explosive lightning. Raya was dead. And he¡¯d bought her exactly five minutes. As the firefly heaved for breath and stumbled back, completely regenerating its missing appendages, her eyes bored holes into the little horizontal slits on its waist. After all, they weren¡¯t just glowing for the sake of looking intimidating. Before it showed its true colours, it¡¯d kept its arms crossed just to keep the glowing slits hidden, but when it first used that explosive lightning attack to decimate everything around it in a fifty metre radius, she¡¯d already thought it strange it didn¡¯t immediately start chucking more lightning bolts at them to finish the job. There was a delay; a whole minute, give or take, before its chitin could harden and it could start moving swiftly again. Just as well, while it had twelve glowing slits before using its first explosive attack, it only had four remaining now¡ªthe other eight were completely dark like they¡¯d been drained out of blood. It could regenerate missing appendages, but only after using its explosive attack. It could use its explosive attack one more time, and only one more time. Her lips trembled as she spoke, tears rolling down her cheeks. ¡°... We¡­ we need to bait it into doing that attack again,¡± she whispered, to Issam and the others around her, turning ever so slowly to lock eyes with all of them. ¡°When it does that¡­ that massive attack with lightning flying everywhere¡­ its chitin softens and it electrifies its own muscles in the process, meaning¡­ it can¡¯t move to defend itself. ¡°It only has four glowing slits left on its waist, which also means¡­ it¡¯s going to run out of lightning soon. ¡°It¡¯s fighting a battle of attrition just as much as we are. ¡°So our strategy¡­ is¡­ we have to¨C¡± ¡°Make it believe it can kill all of us in its final explosive attack, when only one of us six needs to be safe and standing once that attack is over,¡± Issam finished. ¡°...¡± And it was an unsaid command. It didn¡¯t need to be said out loud. Whatever grievances they had in life, whatever mourning they¡¯d yet to finish, whatever pains they were suffering and whatever wounds they had to heal¡ªall of them cowards behind the sandbags, students and townsfolk and children and elders alike, who¡¯d cheered and roared for Raya to carry their weight for them¡ªall of them picked up arms, whether they were broken Swarmsteel shortswords the younger students had died with or random planks of wood torn from the walls, and crawled like worms until they were back onto their feet. Proud and strong undertowners they were, not¡­ bugs to be crushed underfoot by another bug. Raya had staked his life for the slimmest chance of opening a path to victory, and now it was their turn to walk that path. ¡­ Eria. [I am here.] What are our chances of victory against the firefly? [One percent.] An instantaneous reply, zero hesitation. She climbed over the sandbag all the same, tightening her claw gauntlets over her bleeding hands. [¡­ And still I am glad to have served you these past three days, Dahlia Sina.] [Now bare your claws, and give the firefly hell¡ªmy children of Alshifa.] Chapter 32 - The Unmaker Final Journal Entry #8888 ¡­ Year 98 since the Swarm descended and our ancestors retreated into the undertowns. Tonight, I killed Eria and stopped her before she could fully metamorphosize. Right now, Dahlia is still locked in the closet. I won¡¯t let her out before dawn. If I notice myself metamorphosing, I¡¯ll shoot a firefly flare into the sky and kill myself promptly. I¡¯m sure the townsfolk will free her afterwards and ask her a lot of questions, but she won¡¯t be able to tell them a thing. Maybe they¡¯ll get a few clues if they search around the house, but most likely they¡¯d just burn it down seeing the bloody mess in the bedroom, and then Dahlia will spend the entire rest of her life trying to figure out what happened. I won¡¯t let that happen. If you¡¯re reading this, that means I¡¯m either dead or non-responsive. I don¡¯t think I¡¯ll be able to maintain enough of my humanity to talk come tomorrow morning. At most I¡¯ll manage a grunt here and there, or retain some of my habits as a human, but¡­ there¡¯s this voice in my blood, and it itches. I can¡¯t stop listening to it. This really will be the end of ¡®Doctor Sanyon¡¯, so before dawn arrives and the last thing I do as a human is let you out of the closet¡­ ¡­ If you¡¯re reading this, that means you¡¯ve found the secret journal I¡¯ve been keeping since I was a child. This might be the very first and final entry you¡¯ll bother to read¡ªI have eight thousand entries spread across hundreds of journals, after all¡ªso I¡¯ll save you the trouble of going back and reading everything I¡¯ve written just to figure out what happened. The main takeaway is this: don¡¯t you ever eat an insect. Got that? - Excerpt from ¡®Secret Sina Household Journal¡¯, Written by Sanyon Sina
¡­ But a word of warning isn¡¯t how I¡¯d like to end this final entry of mine. Because before I am Alshifa¡¯s most talented doctor, I am your papa. There are a few things I want to say before I go. Three hundred and seventeen humans of Alshifa picked up arms as the midnight bell rang, sharply on time¡ªand it was all six of them fifth-years who charged ahead first, a gust of wind speeding their steps. The firefly in the centre of the Bazaar whirled on them, its eyes twitching in irritation. When you were an infant, you were abnormally light. You didn¡¯t have much meat on your bones no matter what we fed you, and Eria was always so worried you wouldn¡¯t grow properly as a result. I told her you¡¯d be fine, that it¡¯d take time for you to grow, but she didn¡¯t believe me¡ªthat was, until we started feeding you sweets and you developed a craving for them. You started eating tons, and then Eria started worrying you¡¯d grow up all fat and plump. I was never all too worried about whether you¡¯ll grow up strong as an ox, or frail and feeble like me. I always had a feeling you¡¯ll grow up just right. Maybe it¡¯d be more convenient for me if you were a little bit taller¡ªso you can help me reach the cabinets I can¡¯t reach around the house¡ªbut if there¡¯s something I can¡¯t reach, I¡¯ll pull out the retractable ladder I made when I was fifteen and climb up there myself. Now, I¡¯ve only shown you everything I was able to make, but if you pry out the floorboards in the back corners of the living room, you¡¯ll find a giant pit in the earth where I¡¯d buried all of my failed projects. Just the retractable ladder alone took me¡­ a week? Maybe two weeks? I put two weeks of pure attention and focus into it, and it still barely works sometimes. You know the ladder I¡¯m talking about. The one that rattles and sways the moment you climb higher than ten rungs. The prototypes I buried in that pit won¡¯t even be able handle five rungs; that¡¯s how badly made they are. But. I brute-forced my way through and managed to make something that works after two weeks. Sometimes, it¡¯s not all about creativity or ingenuity. You won¡¯t find yourself able to enter the flow state all the time¡ªsometimes, you just need to be a little hard-headed and struggle through a very, very, very difficult task. With an underhanded throw, the firefly sent a lightning bolt flying. They split before the scent order was given; Issam and Dahlia and Jerie jumped left while the others dashed right, the bolt splitting a ravine in the ground as it fizzled out against the building behind them. It wasn¡¯t as strong an attack as the bolts that came before it. Then a second, third, and fourth bolt whipped out from each of its arms¡ªfaster, wilder, and more desperate than any that¡¯d come before. All of them stood their ground this time. Amula kicked her bolt away, a flash of blue zipping through her leg, up her hips, then down into the ground through her other leg. The twins left behind shadows made of withered leaves that their bolts struck and disintegrated. Issam covered for Jerie and Dahlia as the boys swung their blade and flute at the same time, splitting their bolt in half, Jerie wincing as his nails caught aflame. The firefly¡¯s outstretched claws remained crackling with lightning. They hardened their muscles, charged straight on, and continued closing the distance. ¡­ That¡¯s right. Even I mess up at making Swarmsteel sometimes. Every human can put in effort for sure, but when push comes to shove and effort utterly fails you, when you have nothing you can believe in¡ªyou must believe the destiny you have made with your own hands is worth something. You must believe your destiny won¡¯t fail you. Collision. Impact. Bombardier beetle boots, twin bullet ant shortswords, the scream of a cicada flute, a mantis scythe-sharpened blade, and ten black chitin claws arced at the firefly all at once from every conceivable direction¡ªthe firefly screeched so loud it created a shockwave that sent a billowing wind through the Bazaar. The monster stood its ground; it didn¡¯t move an inch, contesting all of their weapons with four arms. A backhand sent Jerie flying back into a stall. Its claws ripped into Ayla¡¯s left arm and jerked her into Aylee, sending them both tumbling into violent rolls. Issam swung for its neck, Amula aimed a low kick at its thighs, Dahlia shot her claws for its face. Their weapons were stopped short by its impenetrable chitin, and the firefly screeched again. This time, all of them were sent flying in various directions. Shit! Dahlia got the better end of the stick. She crashed into the wall of sandbags, shoulder first, and the stake in her waist dislodged itself. Fresh wounds opened. Her right arm ached where she¡¯d slammed into the sandbags, but when she sucked in a gasping breath Eria forced her adrenaline to flare¡ªher bicep may throb a little, but she was otherwise unhurt. She could still stand. She could still fight. She charged again, and so did her friends¡ªleaping and running through the electrified smog as the firefly heaved for breath. You may think I don¡¯t pay much attention to what¡¯s going on while you¡¯re in the Bug-Hunting School, but I hear things, you know? That you¡¯re not that good of a student, that you don¡¯t have a lot of friends, that you¡¯re in your third year and you still don¡¯t have a preferred Swarmsteel you want to specialise in¡ªI¡¯ll have you know that those aren¡¯t things you should care too much about, because I was the same as you when I was your age. I put all my effort into one thing, and one thing only. What¡¯s so wrong about not wanting to branch out? What¡¯s so wrong about not wanting to walk the path everyone walks? I walked my path, met Eria, and it was only because I did exactly what I did that you are here today¡ªeven this sorry, pitiful end was something I¡¯d made with my own hands. Do I regret it? The twins dashed in with zigzags, keeping themselves light on their toes as they drew bolt after bolt of lightning away from the rest of them. Issam¡¯s mantis scythes screeched against his blade before every swing, and nobody could tell it was a ¡®sword¡¯ in his hands; it was a sabre of pure fire with how fast it slashed, not at all unlike Amula¡¯s beetle boots as she aimed for the firefly¡¯s thigh with every twirling kick. Chasing the firefly around the Bazaar, they moved in at any opening they could get. Matching guttural scream for guttural scream, Jerie roared into his flute to stop the firefly from escaping the arena, and Dahlia¡­ most certainly tried to keep up with the distraction tactics. She was the weak link of the group. The firefly seemed to notice, laughing, mocking her, casting more lightning bolts her way. Issam stepped in every time to chop the projectiles. His blade grew brighter. Amula hopped from side to side, her heels bursting with flame geysers, and the twins fanned her flames to surround the firefly in a dome of heat again. It didn¡¯t even pretend to feel any pain this time. Its claws went up and down, chucking more lightning bolts wherever it could catch a glimpse of the twins¡¯ shadows, and steel shattered in mighty droves. Tarps went flying, clotheslines whipped into the sky, even the wall of sandbags was finally felled by a stray bolt that was supposed to pierce Jerie¡¯s chest. But while Dahlia¡¯s legs gave out and she fell on one knee, hands pressing over the bleeding wound in her waist, a flood of pebbles soared from the ruined buildings, whacking the firefly on the side of its head. Bigger objects started flying. Broken chair legs, firefly cages, hammers and chisels and butcher knives and dust-beating sticks¡ªthe three hundred and eleven townsfolk of Alshifa rose in a giant circle all around the Bazaar, throwing whatever they could find at the firefly while the six of them fought to catch their breath. Instead of cowering in fear, they, too, had chosen to shout, to scream, to bellow their rage at the firefly. Nobody could live with the regret of not doing anything to help. ¡­ I don¡¯t regret anything, Dahlia. So people will keep expecting things from you, and you will keep failing to deliver on their expectations¡ªand still you must never fail to make a ¡®destiny¡¯ for yourself. Because, and I swear this is some magical force in the world I can¡¯t explain¡­ some people can ¡®see¡¯ destiny. They will love you for it. They will appreciate you for it. And they, who can see the potential¡ªthe ¡®destiny¡¯ even in the smallest of bugs¡ªare what you and I and everyone in Alshifa call a ¡®Maker¡¯. Desperation. Malicious onslaught. The firefly whirled in place, annoyed by the dozens of heavy objects flying at it every second, and every lightning bolt it sent streaking in a random direction was accompanied by the screams of many¡ªthe children on the left were crushed by rubble shot down from the ceiling, the textile store owners on the right were split in half by metal plates flying along the bolts¡¯ trajectory, even the elders in the back weren¡¯t spared from having lightning dust ignite their crusty beards and hairs¡ªbut nobody backed down from the Bazaar. Those who¡¯d lost only a single leg kept on crawling, reaching for more debris to throw. Those who saw their old friends lose their heads by their side kept on screaming curses, tossing knives with greater ferocity, with more wrathful lights in their eyes. Those who¡¯d already lost everything had nothing to fear; death was but a moment before the firefly¡¯s fearsome lightning. Dozens of people were falling by the second, yet they rushed on, buying time, uncaring for their own safety. They knew the only ones who could slay the firefly were the six of them with their Swarmsteel. The other kids in school are already calling you the ¡®Make-Whatever¡¯, are they not? Dahlia blinked, tasting blood spraying into her face, feeling bone and lightning dust splattering against her skin. She willed her legs to stand, to stop allowing people to throw themselves in front of her, but as she tried she tripped forward, crashing to the ground. A heavy chunk of stone falling from the ceiling would¡¯ve crushed her skull right there and then had the twins not jumped in at the last moment, kicking her out of the way¡ªand the last she saw of them were the brilliant, dazzling smiles, mouthing at her words that didn¡¯t need to be said out loud. ¡°Keep on going,¡± Aylee said. ¡°I¡¯ll massage your shoulders again,¡± Ayla said. Then they took her place and died, crushed by the boulder that would¡¯ve taken her head. It¡¯s funny they gave you that nickname. It¡¯s what my classmates used to call me back when I was in General School, too. She reached her hands out at the twins, but there were too many targets. Too many people throwing things at it all at once. The firefly flung itself through the air, slashing and clawing and kicking at everyone bold enough to try to engage it in a melee. Lightning danced around it, but the trails were no longer blindingly blue, as though it were losing steam with every human body it had to cleave through. Jerie was the final straw. Before Dahlia could even pry her lips open to scream, the firefly had blurred over and run one of its arms through his chest, crushing his heart with a violent snarl¡ªbut ever the stoic, the boy belted out a final laugh before jamming his flute into the firefly¡¯s mouth, screeching a final, ear-shattering tune from inside its head. ¡°How¡¯s that for volume?¡± he seemed to say, as the firefly clutched its head and stumbled back, blood swirling and sloshing behind its eyes. Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more. Jerie dealt real damage to its senses and died, falling with a cackling laugh. You know, Eria also told me she had a nickname. Of course, she said she remembered being called ¡®Eria¡¯ by most everyone before she arrived in Alshifa, so that¡¯s what I called her and that¡¯s what everyone in Alshifa knew her as¡­ but she said she also had another name that was quite endearing to her. She said she was nicknamed Khulash¡¯ah. ¡­ No idea what that meant, though. And she definitely couldn¡¯t explain it to me either. Her arms thrummed with nervous energy, strain building up in her head and turning into a constant, throbbing pulse. The firefly snapped its head sideways, aiming a palm her way. Somehow she managed to crawl onto her feet, choking for breath, gasping for a cry, but not a second later everyone was knocked onto their backs by Amula clashing with the firefly, shin against shin, armoured boots against chitin feet. Every last muscle in Amula¡¯s body strained and struggled, pushing and shoving against its leg, until her boot could take the pressure no more¡ªa flash of lightning coursed through the Swarmsteel and her entire leg burst into flames, the firefly grinning with spiteful glee. But it most certainly didn¡¯t expect Amula to keep her whirring boot pressed against its leg, her kick having been thrown with such force half her foot was lodged in its shin. She merely glanced back at Dahlia with a quiet nod, before mouthing something with her boots glowing bright red. ¡°You¡¯re not spineless,¡± she said. Then her boots exploded and took one of the firefly¡¯s legs along with them, toppling the monster with a savage scream of pain. ¡­ I¡¯m rambling. My point is: it¡¯s okay if you still don¡¯t have any friends. I didn¡¯t have any until I was well in my twenties, once people started seeing me as an actual doctor. So when you do find people you can call ¡®friends¡¯, make sure to never let them down. Screw everyone else. Friends are the only ones who can see the destiny you make, after all. She didn¡¯t have the time to blink. She didn¡¯t have the time to get up from lying on her stomach. She didn¡¯t even have the time to comprehend the deaths happening right before her eyes. Third time¡¯s the final charm¡ªa high-pitched series of whirs came from inside the fallen firefly¡¯s chest as it clenched its fists, preparing to strike the ground. They¡¯d done it. They¡¯d made it desperate enough to use its strongest attack one last time, and everyone still alive dropped to the ground, bracing for the explosion. There weren''t a lot of them remaining; there wouldn¡¯t be a lot of them remaining afterwards. And this was the firefly¡¯s strongest explosion yet. A hundred lightning bolts shot out in every direction, aiming for total annihilation. No building was adequate cover. No Swarmsteel was tough enough to withstand the attack. She practically didn¡¯t hear the explosion go off for how dazed and exhausted she already was, but even then she knew nobody made it through. If the lightning didn¡¯t get them, the metal shrapnel flying everywhere did. If the shrapnel didn¡¯t get them, then the stones from the collapsing ceiling did. If someone were still alive after enduring all that, they¡¯d have to be the most fortunate person in the world or the strongest person in the world. ¡­ Dahlia was fortunate. Because when the smoke cleared and she blinked the dust in her eyes away, the second strongest person in her world was standing over her¡ªshirt torn, hair dishevelled, broken mantis scythes hanging limp off his shoulders, a dozen holes bore through his torso by sharp rocks and metal debris. And for some reason, he still had a small, wistful smile on his face. ¡­ This is the end for me. ¡°... This is the end for me,¡± Issam whispered, pushing the words forward even if it killed him to do so. Dahlia choked, crawling onto her knees before reaching her hands towards his; he grinned for a second when her claws curled around his fingers. Then he pushed her away and reached behind his waistband, slowly, clumsily, his shoulders still holding up the dark slab of stone. I don¡¯t have much time left. ¡°I don''t have much time left,¡± he mumbled, as her face became ugly, wracked with tears, trying to stop him from moving and opening his wounds even further. She didn''t have the strength to do so. Even in living death, Issam''s arms were indubitably strong¡ªeven trying to scratch his veins out wouldn''t stop him from doing what he wanted. Eventually his left hand found what he wanted on his waistband and he pulled it forward, letting it dangle on a crude silver chain in front of her face. This is all I can leave you with. ¡°This is all I can leave you with.¡± It was a pocket watch made entirely out of silver, eight-sided with three needle hands shaped like pointing fingers. Glowing white crystals decorated the rims of the watch, quite sparingly so as not to be gaudy, but the back was carved with web-like lines and inset with amber shaped in the form of a little black bug¡ªand the whole thing was a crude, unrefined piece of work. The edges weren''t smoothened, the lines weren''t perfectly straight, the bug was barely recognizable for how crooked its legs were¡­ but no doubt Issam had spent days and weeks pouring over every last detail, making sure it was something she could wear with pride and joy. For her part, she was still refusing to let go of his hands. I¡¯d like to spend the rest of my life around you, but, well¡­ ¡°I¡¯d like to spend the rest of my life around you, but, well¡­¡± Her eyes widened as his shoulders slumped. Then her lips began to tremble, and so did her cheeks, her shoulders, then her whole body. In her arms, she watched as his amber eyes dulled into the familiar white void she knew death better with. This was the very first time she¡¯d seen him so tired, and the whirlwind in her chest refused to settle, refused to give up. Her claws dug into his arms, wishing him pain. Wishing him agony. Anything to keep him awake, anything to keep his head held high like the hero he was to her¡ªthen he shook his head and patted hers in return, an oddly calming sensation that froze every bone in her body. He¡¯d run out of air to speak with, so he settled for mouthing his parting words instead. ¡­ This is for all your future birthdays. I love you, Dahlia. Now go out there and make your own destiny. ¡°...¡± Her ears started to ring as Issam fell forward into her, and something red and ugly flared inside her. Her vision blurred. Her lips parted as though she wanted to say something, as though to respond to his profession with one of her own, as though to pull his face into hers so she could show him what she really felt about him¡ªbut instead she only managed a vague, incoherent noise, bubbling out of her throat. That noise turned into a strident cry. That cry turned into a scream, and she dragged her claws behind his shoulders to cut the slab of stone in half. Moonlight fell around them, basking the broken Alshifa in a cold, gentle glow. The cavern was collapsing. Nothing could stop the ceiling from caving in completely now. Half the undertown was already buried, the Bazaar littered with the bodies of brave men and women who¡¯d given their lives for her; the firefly was struggling to regenerate its missing leg and damaged eyes a good fifteen metres away. Its torso was no longer glowing, not a single streak of lightning dribbling out its claws. It¡¯d used up everything it had with that final explosion, and now that it saw her still kneeling, still breathing, it clicked its mandibles at her so fast she couldn¡¯t help but think it was afraid of her. The bug was afraid of her. [... DAHLIA SINA.] [GET.] [UP.] Sniffling, gritting her teeth, she took Issam¡¯s pocket watch and slipped it behind her waistband, turning the little dial. The one minute countdown began. Tick, tock. She let Issam rest gently onto the ground, rose onto her feet, and immediately stumbled¡ªfalling on her face with her very first step. Burning pains raced through her waist and torso and she cried in agony, scratching the ground as she pushed herself up on shaky elbows. More heat blossomed along her arms, but she bit down harder on her teeth, straining to get back up. Shards of chitin from her broken Swarmsteel dug into her skin and she smelled something putrid in the air¡ªremnants of all the lightning that¡¯d been flying around¡ªso she focused on how horrible it all smelled. She focused on how much she wanted to erase it from the cavern, the hideous smell of ash and the ails of courageous souls who¡¯d taken her this far; was she going to lay there on her stomach and bleed out like the bug she was, or was she going to fight even if it meant a more painful demise for her? [GO.] Without question. Without doubt. And when she crawled to her feet, barrelling straight ahead, and the firefly regenerated just in time to slash two of its left claws at her¨C The steel thread guided her to sidestep past its shoulders, her own claws darting in zigzags to dismantle the chitin on its outstretched arms. [IN THE EYES OF A MAKER, THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS A ¡®LIVING¡¯ BEING.] She felt pain in her ankles and pivoted, ducking under its third arm and stabbing it three, four, five times along its forearm; the moment the firefly realised what she was doing and jerked itself back, she¡¯d already dashed in again, doing as Raya did, refusing to give it any breathing room. Its wings trembled, trying to flap and send it shooting off into the sky. She whipped around it and severed them off its shoulders, catching drops of blood with her tongue. It lunged for her throat with a sudden burst of speed, but she¡¯d seen the attack before and sidestepped, darting in herself, slashing at its unarmored arms and cutting them into ten identical sections. Now two of its arms were gone, its movements were unbalanced¡ªon its second backstep, she pounced in and reared her claws back, ready to strike again. [EVERYTHING IS MADE TO BE DISMANTLED.] Sharpened antennae flew at her. She stabbed them with two index fingers and ripped them off its head. Its claws sank into her waist as it raised her in the air. She screamed and jabbed her claws into its eyes, pressing them into its skull. As her feet made contact with the ground she immediately pushed forward, hands swirling around its right arms to dismantle their chitin plates while it reeled in pain; by the time it noticed it had no more protection on its striking limbs she¡¯d already severed its right arms too, headbutting it straight into the ground. [EVERYTHING IS MADE TO BE UNMADE.] Boulders crashed and shattered around them. The hole in the ceiling widened, now it was a whole ravine, misty white blobs of fog hanging far, far overhead. She remembered they were called ¡®clouds¡¯ on the surface, droplets of water in misty form. Tonight, it was ¡®raining¡¯, ¡®thunder¡¯ cracking in the distance¡ªand between the flashes of natural lightning, she sank her claws into the firefly¡¯s chest and tore its chitin apart, plate by plate, layer by layer. Like peeling an onion. Like dismantling a faulty watch. The firefly kicked its feet into her back, mutilating her flesh as best it could, but her eyes were following the brilliant steel thread without an ounce of regret. Without a trace of hesitation. The firefly had to die. [UNMAKE IT, DAHLIA SINA.] ¡­ And when she finally crushed what felt like the firefly¡¯s heart in her hands, she lost all strength in her body and fell next to its unmade carcass. She¡¯d cut, torn, ripped, and dismantled every individual piece of chitin from its flesh, so now she was sure that if a boulder were to fall onto them¡ªand that would happen, within the next minute or two¡ªthey¡¯d both be flattened and killed for good. No more regenerating limbs. No more lightning explosions. Alshifa had triumphed over the Swarm at long last, and now, as the cavern continued collapsing around her, she felt she could close her eyes to take a good, long nap. ¡­ She didn¡¯t need to survive this. There was no point in surviving this. She envisioned herself standing at the top of the stairs to her house, a golden field of flowers swaying in front of her. Her dad and mom stood in wait before the door, and everyone else was there, too. Instructor Biem and his children and the rest of the students sparring behind the house. The twins playing ball on the roof. Jerie playing his flute by the edge of the cliff. Amula was kicking Raya and vice versa off to the side, fighting up a storm. Issam was shaking his head at them, telling them not to make a ruckus at someone else¡¯s house, but then he turned and walked forward and offered her a hand¡ªhis was a human hand, not at all dark and jagged and disproportionately long like hers already were, having long since began melding with her Swarmsteel claws. She took his hand, a relieved smile on her face, but he was mouthing something at her. His lips were blurry. She couldn¡¯t hear a thing. She took a step forward, intending to get closer, but then his face changed. Issam became Amula, who started mouthing something at her again. What¡­ are you saying? Amula became Jerie, who played a tune she couldn¡¯t hear. What are you playing? Jerie split into the twins, who each patted her shoulders and shook their heads ¡®no¡¯. No what? The twins became Instructor Biem. Instructor Biem became her dad. Her dad became her mom. Ten faces, a hundred faces, a thousand faces¡ªshe didn¡¯t recognize even half of them, some so faded and swirly she could barely tell they were human faces, but all of them, without a doubt, mouthed something at her. Their jaws distended, their teeth moved in chewing motions. And when she finally blinked, clearing her vision, returning to reality¨C She felt warm drops down her cheeks as she chomped on the firefly¡¯s neck, one hand holding the carcass in place and the other already cutting out more chunks of insect flesh to devour. She couldn¡¯t stop herself. There was no ¡®effort¡¯ that could stop her from wanting to live. If she were to die, nobody would remember Alshifa, and every last person who died for her would¡¯ve died for nothing. [... Even if you devour insect flesh and I am to assign you your insect class now, the chances of your surviving the collapse of Alshifa is less than one percent,] Eria whispered, as it crawled over the firefly¡¯s neck and stared firmly at her, black eyes going pale and colourless. [Your injuries are too severe. There is nobody around who can offer you assistance. Perhaps you might consider allowing me to soothe your nerves so as to make the passage¡­ more comfortable?] ¡­ In response, she snapped her jaw over to where Eria¡¯s projection was standing and bit down there, too¡ªswallowing every bite she could get, not wasting a single strand of muscle that could mean the difference between life or death. Because if she had to choose¡ªand she had to choose now¡ªshe didn¡¯t want to make a decision she¡¯d regret. [... I apologise.] [I was underestimating your resolve.] [In that case, would you like me to assign you your insect class so you can unlock the full capabilities of the Altered Swarmsteel System?] ¡­ She was too busy eating to answer properly. So it was, a hundred years after their great ancestors retreated below the earth, that the final undertown in the world collapsed with a quiet whimper. Surely, nobody knew anything about them. Surely, nobody would care to remember them into the future. ¡­ But she would remember. She would live. And she¡¯d make her own path bearing the weight of all of Alshifa. [Class: Determining] [...] [...] [... Class: Assassin Bug]
Arc Four, ¡°The Unmaker¡±, End Volume One - Epilogue ¡­ Rivers of sand dripped down stained, blackened stones, and the twenty desert guides led Alice down into the ravine on frayed ropes. The tension in the air made her grimace. She couldn¡¯t see much of anything through the blurry moth mask as always, but even without it she doubted she¡¯d be able to see through the sandstorm brewing down here. Reports claimed the final ravine opened up only two days and nights ago, meaning, in due time, the desert would claim even this space for itself and it¡¯d appear no different from the countless hollow caverns ravaged by the falling cocoons; the sandstorm would subside soon enough, but most likely she¡¯d already be gone by then. They unclipped the ropes from their harnesses and touched down on the very bottom, surveying the pit of sandy rubble with narrowed eyes. Sunlight was sparse today, but even then she could tell there was nothing living here. She was already too late. ¡°... Hasharana. This is the last of the eight undertowns you are supposed to check, yes?¡± one of the desert guides said, his voice muffled through his mask, and he paced idly forward through the rubble while waving for the rest of them to do the same. ¡°If you don¡¯t mind, akra, we might as well check to see if there¡¯s anything we can scavenge. Preserved food, firefly extract, and intact beetle chitin take first priority. Anything we can¡¯t carry, we¡¯re leaving down here, anda. We don¡¯t want to overload our rides.¡± The rest of the desert guides obliged without a word of complaint. Now, since they¡¯d already been kind enough to lead her to one collapsed undertown after another over the past five days, she didn¡¯t stop them from pilfering the cavern for useful supplies. Instead she picked the brightest sections of the cavern to explore, skipping and hopping over mounds of rubble as she did. She wasn¡¯t really sure what shapes she had to look out for when it came to food from an undertown, but if the wreckages from the other undertowns they¡¯d checked were anything to go by, the desert guides would probably want whole grains in thatch sacks and old-fashioned sap-lacquered wooden boxes where vials of firefly extract were usually stored in. She was particularly good at identifying beetle chitin too; she¡¯d help the others out on that front. ¡°But who would¡¯ve guessed there were still undertowns in this day and age, huh?¡± one of the desert guides said, as he flipped a boulder over with the help of two others and jumped in to begin hauling supplies out. ¡°I thought the Spider Spinner Brood swept through Sharaji decades ago, cleaning out the Great Makers¡¯ mighty undertowns. This makes¡­ the eighth? Gudalala, the eighth undertown you¡¯ve checked up on?¡± ¡°Jerlum, most likely, it is also the last,¡± another guide said, tossing a small piece of beetle chitin her way so she could stuff it into her satchel. ¡°Maybe if we¡¯d been quicker to bring you around, Hasharana, you could¡¯ve done something for the people of this undertown. But now not only do you have only bad news to report, you¡¯ll also have to hunt down the firefly Mutant, eh? Anda, the Mutant that¡¯s nowhere to be seen around here¨C¡± ¡°The Mutant is dead.¡± The firmness in her voice surprised everyone, and they turned to her for an explanation. She paused, took a whiff of the sweet, hazy air through her mask, and nodded back at the twenty of them. ¡°The Mutant¡­ is dead,¡± she repeated, before turning away to continue searching through the rubble. ¡°Chopped and dismantled, smells like. Krakan ca wan. It must¡¯ve kicked the hornet¡¯s nest just a few days ago, before the ravine even opened up.¡± One of the desert guides muttered something unintelligible under his breath before shaking his head, off to her left. ¡°Someone got to it before us, then? But I thought you were the only Hasharana sent to chase down the cocoons from that botched operation. Who¡¯s it, knava? You think the Long March came around and burst its eardrums before it even realized it was in their range?¡± Alice shook her head. ¡°Not the Long March. The Mutant¡¯s dismantled. Carved and shredded. That¡¯s not Zora¡¯s style, nor any of his mages.¡± ¡°The Nocturna, then?¡± ¡°Not them, either. Why would they ever be out in the middle of the desert, anyways?¡± ¡°Then, knava, you¡¯re saying the Mutant was crushed to death by a bunch of rocks?¡± She pursed her lips, but didn¡¯t say anything further. The truth was, she didn¡¯t really know; she didn¡¯t really care at this point. As long as the Mutant was dead, they had nothing to worry about, and she could send a report back to the Genesis Glade, stating the runaway bugs of the Hinterland Front were all but obliterated. ¡­ Except, she didn¡¯t feel quite at ease down here. She cast a few glances back at the desert guides, wondering if someone other than her might¡¯ve noticed¡ªthe Altered Swarmsteel System in the back of her neck was itching like mad. What¡¯s the deal, Tahra? Why are you nervous? [I am not nervous,] Tahra said, appearing on her shoulder as a little moth. [However, please be warned that there is an unregistered Altered Swarmsteel System in the vicinity¡ªit appears to be faulty in that I cannot connect to it via the Archive. Please exercise caution. It may belong to someone from that rogue faction that stole the Worm God''s latest batch two years ago.] Alice paused. ¡­ An unregistered Altered Swarmsteel System? This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report. Where? Tahra pointed its antennae forward, at the largest block of rubble there was, and she wasted no time nodding at her uncle to cut it in half¡ªthat her uncle did before she could even finish her sentence, having swung his little knife from halfway across the pit without looking back. [As precise as ever,] Tahra remarked. Like we haven¡¯t seen him do that a thousand times before. The rest of them, save for her uncle, bounded over to where the block had split apart to peer down into the little hole, and the Altered Swarmsteel Systems in her neck itched again. ¡°...¡± And none of them said anything for a good few seconds. Alice looked at Tahra, beckoning for it to pull up the girl¡¯s status screen.
[Name: Dahlia Sina] [Class: Assassin Bug] [BloodVolume: 0.4/4.8 (9%), Strain: 801/837 (96%)] [Unallocated Points: 38] [// BASIC ATTRIBUTES] [Strength: 1 (+4), Speed: 1 (+1), Dexterity: 8 (+5), Toughness: 1 (+0), Perceptivity: 3 (+16), StrainLimit: 837] [// MUTATION TREE ] [// UNIQUE SWARMSTEEL LIST] [2x Assassin Bug Claw Gauntlet (Quality = C)(Dex +5/5)(Str +4/12)(Strain +395)] [Bullet Ant-fuse-Pine Sawyer Beetle Chestplate (Quality = E)(Tou +0/5)(Strain +12)] DAMAGED [2x Bullet Ant-fuse-Robber Fly Pauldron (Quality = E)(Spd +0/4)(Tou +0/4) (Strain +8)] DAMAGED [2x Bullet Ant Bracer (Quality = E)(Per +6/20)(Tou +0/4)(Strain +15)] DAMAGED [2x Bullet Ant Greave (Quality = E)(Per +6/20)(Tou +0/4)(Strain +15)] DAMAGED [2x Cave Cricket Bracers (Quality = E)(Per +4/17)(Tou +0/1)(Strain +18)] DAMAGED [Pine Sawyer Beetle-fuse-Robber Fly Mantle (Quality = F)(Spd +0/1)(Tou +0/1)(Strain +21)] DAMAGED
¡°... Bug claws?¡± one of the guides said, frowning at the girl curled up in a ball beneath them. Another guide dipped his head and scowled down at the girl. ¡°She¡¯s gotta have eaten lots of bugs to mutate that far." ¡°Right,¡± another guide said, nodding succinctly. ¡°We kill her, then.¡± ¡°No,¡± another guide said. ¡°Yes,¡± another guide said. The rest refrained from making a decision, and so did her uncle, still lounging around the back of the pit. Most of them were indecisive¡ªso they looked to her instead, waiting for an answer. ¡­ ¡­ Why¡¯s it up to me? [Because you are the youngest here, and perhaps they want to know if you possibly feel anything about killing a girl somewhat your own age.] Okay. So what about it? I have to decide whether she lives or dies? What¡¯s so bad about her being an ¡®assassin bug¡¯, anyways? [It is difficult to explain right away, but to sum it up: the Archive of Altered Swarmsteel Systems deems assassin bugs as one of the most unpredictable insects any human can face in battle. To that end, the Worm God had personally made all species of assassin bugs extinct several decades ago.] [I believe you should kill her and immediately retrieve her Altered Swarmsteel System for dismantling.] ¡­ Sighing, running her hands through her hair, she pulled out a knife and flicked it into the air. The rest of them stared intently as it spun on its way down into the girl¡¯s head, but when a kind man stepped forward in an attempt to catch it, she quickly flicked a wad of threads around his wrist and stopped him from doing so. ¡°If the hilt hits her, she lives,¡± she said plainly. ¡°You call this¡­ the will of the winds, anda, no? The desert will refuse to claim her. ¡°But if the blade hits her, then¡­ well. ¡°Fate will decide whether she lives or¨C¡± And it happened, all of a sudden¡ªtwo black arms shot out the unconscious girl¡¯s back and shredded the knife mid-air, claws dismantling it into a simple hilt, a guard, and a blade. None of them landed even close to her head, and now all the desert guides shrieked, jumping back in fear. ¡­ Huh. Did she just¨C ¡°I dunno what you¡¯re all so conflicted about,¡± her uncle said, making everyone jump again as he appeared between all of them, sighing to himself while rubbing his belly. ¡°It¡¯s noon, and I¡¯m hungry. There¡¯s nothing to scavenge from this pit. If we don¡¯t leave now, there¡¯s no telling if the sandstorm won¡¯t get any worse and trap us down here for a few burning days.¡± He didn¡¯t wait for an answer from the rest of them¡ªnot like he usually did, anyways¡ªbut they were more than eager to follow his lead regardless, rushing to reattach the dangling ropes onto their harnesses. After that little ¡®display¡¯ from the seemingly unconscious girl, it seemed like none of them were too interested in lending a helping hand anymore; not even to retrieve the Swarmsteel on her body that might prove useful with someone else. ¡­ But they didn¡¯t stop Alice from kneeling and scooping the girl out, either. Tahra. [What is it?] You said she is an ¡®assassin bug¡¯. [Yes.] What insect is that? [By order of the Worm God and the Archive of Altered Swarmsteel Systems, I am not permitted to disclose that information.] Something in her chest went ba-dump, ba-dump, and she couldn¡¯t resist narrowing her eyes underneath her mask. ¡­ An unknown insect with unknown abilities the Worm God isn¡¯t willing to disclose any information about. Then it must be a powerful insect with powerful abilities, hm? [...] I want them. I¡¯ll take her abilities.
Volume One, End Interlude 7 - Wanderer ¡­ Darkness blooms down from the top of the fortress like an inkblot spreading on a scroll. The stone starts to crawl, the pillars start to wobble. A shudder of animalistic fear ripples up little Alice¡¯s spine as she watches the Hasharana Academy crumble around her, giant insects overrunning even the diamond-encrusted doors of the grand shelter¡ªin no time at all the swallows will cry, and she will be killed. She, the last of her class, will be wiped out here. Even with fear in her throat, she doesn¡¯t falter. Her eyes drift across the first line of giant insects squeezing into the shelter and she bit her nails, twirling her fingers, making exaggerated whips with her four arms as though she were conducting a musical troupe. Most of her classmates would have been able to deflect the threads coming out her nails, but they were already dead. The giant insects are not her classmates. Her threads twirls into a frayed, knotted rope mid-air and cleaves through the first line, ripping into the back. It hurts more to sit there and do nothing. She knows resistance is futile. But she is resolved to take as many giant insects down with her as she can, so when the swallows cry and the rubble is cleared, people will laud her a hero for having not given up until her very end. She tunes out the rest of her environment and zeroes in on one bug at a time. The shelter fills with unnatural screeching and buzzing as her silk threads whips everywhere all at once, each of her arms taking one cardinal direction, her feet tied to a broken slab on the ground to keep herself from running. Blood was falling from the giant insects¡¯ mandibles, hunger and desire mixed with pure aggression in their eyes. They know it is only a matter of time before they get to her. They charge on, despite the clouds of threads that whip out at them. They charge on, despite rubble falling from the ceiling and crushing dozens of them at once. Their movements grow rougher and rougher until suddenly she cries out¡ªshe runs out of threads to produce from her nails. A great plume of fire pours from a beetle¡¯s mouth, enveloping her whole. She starts screaming; it is a pain unlike any before. More chitinous projectiles launch endlessly against her, chipping her hardened skin, and she whirls in a panic to fend off everything flying at her. Then her left arms are severed and a Mutant mantis flings her into the wall, small bits of silver and stone pelting her head from above. The ceiling crashes down, and as she pries open her eyes she sees a horde of them in quiet advance, thickening by the second. She rests her back against the wall and bites her lips. She¡­ doesn¡¯t feel anything about death. She doesn¡¯t know what that is. She doesn¡¯t have a heart. So when she closes her eyes and breathes her last¡ª She wakes, in a land of silver, where every giant insect is petrified and turned to diamond. ¡°...¡± This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there. She is dead. She is sure of it. But she feels cold on her cheeks, weight on her shoulders; perhaps this is the entrance to the land of the dead? A worm crosses her eyes. A second worm. A third worm. A fourth worm. They vanish, as quickly as they flitted across the horde of petrified insects, and in their place a man wearing a cloak of living chrome walks up to her. She doesn¡¯t try to pull away even as the man caresses her face, sealing her wounds and regrowing new arms for her. It doesn¡¯t hurt. It is just cold. ¡°... And so you are the last, child of the mandarina,¡± the man mutters, as little Alice blinks and nods at the same time; that is all she can muster. ¡°I would commend you for being the only one to survive this hellscape, but that would be presumptuous of the man playing the defunct role of a mage envoy. The Seven Swarmsteel Fronts will now be humanity¡¯s domain. No longer will I play the part of your father¡ªtonight, the Hasharana Academy falls, and children like you would no longer be born. ¡°So how about it, sole graduate of the academy? ¡°Would you like to be a Hasharana?¡± ¡°...¡± ¡°You are still far too young to be a wandering bug-slayer, hm?¡± The man waves the question away, rising to his feet. He nods to nobody in particular, but four shimmers nod back from atop the heads of the petrified insects. Little Alice blinks. Are there... worms over there? ¡°Then you are of no use to me, child,¡± the man says, sighing as she leaves through the ravaged doors of the grand shelter. ¡°I do not care what you do from now on. A child who cannot fight giant insects with glee will not be a useful Hasharana. Stay there and be idle if you please¡ªyou will know the pain of starvation soon enough.¡± Little Alice doesn''t respond as the Worm God leaves the ruins of the academy, likely to build a new one. She''s sure a new academy will be erected by the end of the week, but¡­ will she not be a part of it? Is she no longer needed? ¡°What do I do, then?¡± Should she try to leave? Should she just sit here and die? If she dies¡­ would anyone remember her? ¡°...¡± Unbeknownst to her, she still has threads in her blood, because somebody pulls her strings and yanks her to her feet. Her eyes are blank. Her body is hollow. She has no heart. She lacks the cold steel of the ¡®Worm God¡¯, the proud emblem of the Hasharana, and the unbridled malice of the Swarm. She even lacks the strength of her classmates who died before her. Just one girl, against the world¡ªshe walks out of the fortress, out into the desert, and fate picks a direction. - Scene from Hasharana Academy past Chapter 33 - The Hasharana ¡­ Eight pilgrims, four children, and one man walk to the eastern lands. Sand dances across the endless dunes, gold and whimsical teases. The pilgrims say this is as far as they can bring the man and his children¡ªany further into the desert and they will be rendered asunder by the wind god lay sleeping in its grave: Madamaron, the Destroyer, is a cruel and unforgiving deity. They say it will end the man and his children. The children beg to differ. ¡°Death will come to only one man today,¡± the pilgrims whisper as they leave hurriedly. The children laugh with their eyes closed. That day, the ¡®first¡¯ Madamaron is slain, and the man wears its carcass across the desert. For while a god cannot be killed, it can be unmade by those who believe in it. And a bug is no god at all. - Excerpt from ¡®The Hasharana¡¯, Chapter Four
[... Dahlia.] [Dahlia.] [Dahlia.] [Hey, Dahlia.] Issam¡¯s voice startled her awake. Her body reacted. The skin on her wrists were irritated with burns and black lesions, and pain was the first thing she felt as she sat up straight from her bed; lungs grasping for scraps of sand-flavoured air, one hand raking at her itchy throat, another hand scratching a bump behind her ears, and the remaining two clawing into the satin bedsheet she¡¯d been placed upon. A cold bead of sweat trickled down her brows as her eyes swivelled, her lips twitched. Something was off. Something didn¡¯t feel right. Was a human supposed to have four¡­ arms? Breaking into a weary giggle, she ripped the bump behind her ears off and nudged the third black arm away, shoving it off to the side, but it rebounded just as quickly like a lever on a tensed-up paper band¡ªthen the third and fourth arms moved. Ten obsidian claws each twice the length of a normal human finger hovered before her throat, as though trying to wrap around her windpipe, but before she knew it her real arms snapped up to intercept. She caught the third and fourth arms. Her real hands down to where her gauntlet had melded with her forearm were every bit as black, spiky, and gnarly as her extra hands. ¡­ Something was off. Something didn¡¯t feel right. First, her eyes widened. Then some strange tension that¡¯d been hanging in the air like a taut string snapped and she shot to the back of the bed, her bare feet kicking against the mattress so hard the sandstone room shuddered and the dim firefly cage set on the nightstand flickered; something in her throat cracked. Frustration. Anger. Guilt. A mix of all three, perhaps, but when her eyes suddenly welled with tears and everything she remembered from before she fell unconscious rushed into her head all at once, it was a lightning storm that choked her breath, threatening to engulf her from the inside out. She broke down into choked, ugly sobs, and soon she began to scream. Her third and fourth arms raged with her. [Dahlia! Listen to me! Do not lose yourself now! Your body is¨C] Her extra hands balled into fists and smashed down into the bed, breaking it in half. She fell. Onto her feet. Bug-hunting instinct took over, she couldn¡¯t make herself lie down. Adrenaline burned in her veins, her body several magnitudes hotter, and she immediately pored over the dingy sandstone room with red water in her eyes. Her jaw was aching. Her teeth were aching. Her stomach was growling. It was red, pulsing like a fresh bruise. She needed food, and she needed it now. [¨Cstill undergoing nymphal metamorphosis! You consumed the Mutant firefly, remember? You have been assigned your insect class and unlocked your mutation tree, remember? I need you to take¨C] Her body was lighter than usual. Briefly she caught a glimpse of her bandaged biceps, shins, and chest, and only then did she realise she¡¯d been stripped from the waist up. Strangely she didn¡¯t feel chilly, the sandstone room was suffocating in heat¡ªthe majority of what filled the room were jars of honey and burlap sacks hung on the walls. There were other things, like a shoddy dresser and bolted-shut window flaps and shelves full of alien herb gourds, but all of them combined gave off a luxurious smell; it spoke of consumables, and things she could stuff into her mouth. Ravenous. Voracious appetite. Her third and fourth arms moved first, dragging her feet forward. [¨Cdeep breaths, Dahlia! Breathe! Deep breath, four seconds! Heavy exhale, four seconds! Do not lose yourself before I can finish suppressing your natural immune system¨C] With a guttural scream, she spun and dragged one of her arms forward like she was throwing a punch. It came out faster than it felt. She¡¯d just been trying to grab a gourd of water, but instead her chitin fist smashed through the gourd, through the wall, and a beam of sunlight burst through; she reeled back with a hiss and backed away from the light, two palms glued over her eyes. Pain. Hunger. Her legs swept through chair legs, her shoulders tipped over jars of medicinal herbs. She almost vomited the moment sunlight hit her skin. Pure warmth had a fouler taste on her skin than anything she¡¯d expected, and just as she was about to retch, double over, and let her extra arms run wild on a carving flurry¨C [Hey, Dahlia.] Someone held her shoulders. From behind. Two warm hands, but not¡­ so warm. She stopped her painful flailing, and her chest immediately felt tight as a dozen emotions suddenly burst forth¡ªshe whirled, eyes darting around the back of the room with dreamy exuberance. Everything in her went taut¡ªchest, throat, stomach¡ªand she immediately threw her arms around Issam¡¯s shoulders, sobbing into his neck and making a mess of herself. Frankly, she didn¡¯t care. She couldn¡¯t be bothered to think about it. The weight she¡¯d been feeling disappeared as swiftly as it¡¯d come into existence and she let out a crying gasp, blubbering whispers of joy as five more people appeared in the corner of her eyes: Ayla, Aylee, Amula, Jerie, and Raya. The twins were flanking the bolted window flaps, waving cheerily at her. Jerie was sitting cross-legged atop the dresser and playing a low tune with his cicada flute, his eyes closed as usual. Amula was bickering with Raya with their beetle boots and ant swordstaff poised, ready to strike each other at any time, but then she crossed eyes with them and they smirked back at her¡ªthis was a normal day, after all. And they¡¯d all gotten out of Alshifa safe and sound. ¡°... Hey,¡± she breathed, a shuddering, trembling word, as her arms tightened around Issam¡¯s neck. Feeling warm drops on her cheeks, she realised she was crying¡ªshe could still feel, and therefore she was still human. ¡°You¡­ you gave me a fright. A-All of you. What¡¯s up with that? The final? Bit? The firefly wasn¡¯t th-that tough of an opponent, right? I knew we could¡­ I knew we could do it! Together! All of us! We won!¡± Issam¡¯s ears twitched. She couldn¡¯t see his face with her eyes squeezed shut, but she liked to think he was smiling. He had to be. [... Yes, Dahlia. We won,] Issam said, with hesitance, and she ignored the strange, strange metallic undertone in his voice. The others had stopped moving for a second as though they were frozen in place, but now they were all chattering again, casting nervous glances at her; they must¡¯ve been worried about her. [Why don¡¯t you¡­ sit down first? Take a deep breath? You¡¯re still dealing with the overload strain from having most of your Swarmsteel pried off your body, so until you settle down, you won¡¯t heal.] ¡°Okay!¡± She didn¡¯t need to be told twice. While she was a bit reluctant to part with Issam so fast, she knew there was merit in his worry, in his words. Besides, her body was aching all over. Her bones felt like jumbled pieces, and whenever she tried to suck in a breath it was like liquid fire burning in her lungs. Calm down. Grasp air. Yes. The dizziness and the headache would subside soon enough, and once she was calmer she could look to satiate her stifled hunger¨C The two little black nubs growing out her forehead tingled, and her heart thumped in her chest. [... Footsteps,] Ayla whispered, her head whipping over to the front door. [Three people,] Amula confirmed with a firm nod. [Under the remains of the bed, girl!] Raya snapped. And that was the end of the discussions. Issam and the twins hurried her onto her stomach while Jerie and Amula flew around the room, making a big show of tossing an empty burlap sack over their heads. Raya stood still as a lamppost right behind the door. Dahlia was halfway to backing under the collapsed bed when she noticed Issam and the twins weren¡¯t crawling in with her, so her extra arms responded for her, snatching all three of their wrists with a pleading look in her eyes. ¡°What¡­ are you doing?¡± she hissed. ¡°Get in! With me! They¡¯ll find you!¡± Issam peeked down at her with his head horizontal, his smile soft beyond comparison. [Nobody will find me. Don¡¯t worry about me. Worry about yourself first, okay?] ¡°But¨C¡± [We learned how to hide from you, remember?] Aylee said, flicking her forehead and making her let out a pained youch. [Back when we were still third-years, Instructor Biem made us play hide and seek a lot, yeah? Remember that time when we couldn''t find you? It¡¯s because you hid yourself in plain sight, right? With a butterfly mantle you made on the spot?] ¡°Y-Yeah?¡± [We got this!] Ayla said, flicking her forehead again before letting out a small, small giggle. [We¡¯ll be back. Promise. We¡¯re just¡­ gonna jump out the window and hide outside for a bit, okay?] ¡°... Okay,¡± she whispered back. The three of them gave her one last little nod before the door was kicked open. A flood of sunlight blinded her enough that she shirked further back into the darkness, and by the time she was able to see through the thin clouds of sand and dust hovering in the room, her friends had already disappeared. Two pairs of reed-woven sandals stood in front of her, and while a part of her was absolutely enamoured with the beautiful buckles inlaid with precious amber, the other part of her realised she might be in a terrible situation right now. She didn¡¯t know where she was. Well, she had to be on the surface, but she didn¡¯t know the people who brought her up here, and if Issam and the others rushed her to hide maybe they didn¡¯t know who their ¡®rescuers¡¯ were, either. Surface people. Potentially dangerous people. Clamping her hands over her mouth, her heart hammered an anxious rhythm against her ribs¡ªthe two people started talking to each other in an unfamiliar tongue. Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author. ¡°Al yamukui na dabhtah? Ea aysal kadaikal? An hi ay anfaak?¡± one man said, voice tight as he spun around in place, his feet pointed in the same direction as the small hole she¡¯d punched in the wall. She felt she could almost see him pointing at the hole¡ªwhy were her senses so keen today? ¡°Knava? Vanish? An hi ay anfaak?¡± ¡°Krakan na aya, mister. No worries. She couldn¡¯t have gone far,¡± the second person said, a fair and young lady¡¯s voice. Something squirmed in the back of her neck, but she didn¡¯t dare let a pained groan leak from her mouth. ¡°Please, just sit still and wait outside with the rest of Sharaji. Tsihaa ihaaysa wa. I¡¯ll find her and bring her to meet everyone soon.¡± The man evidently crossed his arms as he grumbled, but he didn¡¯t protest as they both left the room, one of them nearly tripping over a tipped-over sack of dirty moss lumps while the other hooked the door shut. As little as she¡¯d wanted to hear, she couldn¡¯t afford to ignore the hushed whispers and murmurs hanging right outside the room; she may have evaded their detection for now, but soon they¡¯d fan out and realise she¡¯d never left the room in the first place. In that case, she had to¨C ¡°Found youuu.¡± A face peeked down at her from atop the broken bed, right as she let out a soft breath of relief, and the world around her disappeared¡ªuntil only a void remained, with her and the inhuman face stuck in it. Its features were a human¡¯s everyday features, but the skin carried no comforting human glow¡ªno flush in the cheeks, no crease under the brows, no colour apart from the same obsidian black of her claws on its full-chitin face. Its jawline was sharp. Angular. Its stretched diamond-shaped lenses for eyes were filled with small hexagonal compound cells that reflected her own face a hundred times over, a thousand times over; it perceived a thousand versions of her all at the same time, and were it not for the brush-like antennae jutting out its hardened forehead, she¡¯d have immediately thought it the living devil here to devour her adolescent soul. But she recognised it as the face of a Mutant moth, so instead it¡¯d probably settle for sucking her brains out of a tube. ¡­ She heard her body screaming at her to fight. To sharpen her claws and send them flying at its face. That tingly feeling of drawing blood from the flesh of a damned insect would surely calm her and remind her she was a proud, proud bug hunter of the Alshifa undertown¡ªbut somehow she couldn¡¯t do it. She couldn¡¯t move. It was like her limbs were wrapped in taut, electrified wires, and if she tried to move she¡¯d cut herself to pieces. [... You have to move, Dahlia.] I can¡¯t. The Mutant moth stared at her, its eyes a pure white void. She couldn¡¯t brave the light; she¡¯d lived in an undertown. She¡¯d never stood under the sun. [You have to look at it, Dahlia.] I can¡¯t. It was too familiar. Too gut-wrenching to look at. It wasn¡¯t the same as the sparkling, lightning-swirled face of the Mutant firefly, but the face of a human-imitating Mutant was terrifying all the same. Her muscles clammed up, her lungs refused to draw breath. She was still far too weak to resist, and her hands began to close into fists. [Dahlia.] I can¡¯t. She knew she had to breathe. She tried. Prying her lips open, puckering them as though trying to suck wheat balls through a straw, she immediately choked on a thin clump of sand and dust in the air. A wave of coarseness ran its way through her throat as she sputtered, coughing like her life depended on it. And her life did depend on it. She had to breathe now. [Dahlia.] I can¡¯t. She tried again. It was like trying to breathe underwater. She fought off the wave of panic threatening to engulf her and yet there was another, never ending, never relenting. It didn¡¯t subside. What little strength she¡¯d gained from hugging Issam had faded completely. Pained gasps and sobs tore out her throat as the moth reached a black chitin hand down, as though trying to touch her face. She screamed then and backed deeper and deeper into the shadows, shying away from the light; it was trying to eat her. [Dahlia! Remember! Deep breath, four seconds! Heavy exhale, four seconds¨C] ¡°I can¡¯t! I can¡¯t! I can¡¯t do it! ¡°Stop talking! ¡°Shut up! ¡°I can¡¯t¡­ I can¡¯t do it!¡± As fear and desperation mixed together in her chest and reached its all-time peak, she let out a scream and slammed her forehead into the ground, tucking herself into the dark as if that¡¯d protect her from the hand reaching for her. If she couldn¡¯t see anything, nothing could happen to her¡ªwas that the sort of logic she¡¯d been taught to believe in? Was that the cowardly sort of display she¡¯d been taught to demonstrate in the face of an enemy trying to take her life? ¡­ But knowing was only half the battle, and at the end of the day, she couldn¡¯t do it. She couldn¡¯t stop shaking. She couldn¡¯t stop grinding her forehead into the ground, trying to stop her splitting headache. And the hand that¡¯d been on its way to touch her face stopped just short, instead placing a small round plate in front of her before retracting like a child chickening out of sticking their arm into a hornet¡¯s nest. ¡°... You''d call me cruel if I pried all your Swarmsteel off you without giving you medicine to deal with the aftermath,¡± the moth said, a fair lady''s voice, and Dahlia realised it was the same lady that''d spoken earlier with the man. She must''ve been a third person, then¡ªhad she jumped onto the bed the moment they entered the room so Dahlia wouldn''t notice her? ¡°I know you''re hungry. However many levels of attributes you lost because I removed your Swarmsteel is surely wracking your body right about now, and it''s been¡­ two weeks since I picked you up. Eat. It''ll make you feel better.¡± Eria wriggled in the back of her neck, as though signalling her to be cautious, but even without looking she could tell there was something fleshy sitting on the plate in front of her; it was some sort of sweet, glazed dumplings in a stacked bundle of four, its smell nourishing, its ¡®taste¡¯ on her skin mouth-watering. With her stomach still in knots, she didn''t hesitate to grab the food offered and stuffed the first dumpling into her mouth. It was¡­ strangely tender. But also chewy on the skin. She''d never quite tasted anything like it before. The closest comparison was when she''d chewed on a blob of raw tree sap from the Sarowan Garden, but there was a tangy sweetness to the dumpling that made it easy to swallow¡ªher remaining three hands immediately reached for the others, her throat crying for something watery to wash down the grainy sand. Just as well, by the time she cleaned her plate like a stray hound would lick even the smallest strands of meat off a bone, her head was no longer pounding. The shaking in her fingers hadn''t stopped. Her throat was still taut. Her chest was still heaving for breath, but¡­ she could breathe, now. [... Interesting.] [She fed you-] Don''t¡­ say it. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and immediately winced, pulling her knuckles away to see she''d cut her lips with her own sharp chitin; even her own blood looked appetising to her. I¡­ I know what she fed me. It''s some sort of processed insect¡­ flesh, right? [... I am also detecting a strange signal from her.] [I believe that, like you, she has an-] ¡°I don¡¯t mean to give you a panic attack again, but the Sharaji townsfolk out there want answers about you and where you came from,¡± the moth said casually, two bare feet kicking back and forth over the broken bed. ¡°It¡¯s not every day that massive ravines open up across the desert to reveal giant undertowns nobody even knew existed, after all. They knew cocoons soared across the sky and landed in the desert some time ago, but they didn¡¯t think they¡¯d find someone still alive after all is said and done¡ªyou were the one who killed the Mutant firefly I was hunting down, right?¡± ¡­ She didn¡¯t even want to think about the firefly. If she closed her eyes now she felt she¡¯d still be able to see the flashes of lightning, the arcing bolts of unbridled destruction, and hear the booms of a cavern in collapse; it wasn¡¯t something she wanted to remember whatsoever. The moth didn¡¯t press her about it. Instead, the kicking feet stopped and the lady hopped off the bed, pivoting so her toes were pointed straight at Dahlia. ¡°I, too, want to know what happened!¡± the moth said, in a high-pitched and cheery voice. ¡°I¡¯m not from here. If I let the Sharaji townsfolk have their way, they¡¯d have already tied you up and left you out in the desert to dry. They think you¡¯re a bad omen; a ¡®Disciple of Madaramon¡¯, they call you. You¡¯ll bring misfortune with those black chitin limbs of yours¡­ a completely normal trait for those of the Hemiptera class of insects, but a terrible augury for the unlearned. They will exile you if you can¡¯t go out there and explain to them what happened that led to you looking like that. ¡°No need to be so worried, though! ¡°I¡¯m here to help you out! ¡°And I won¡¯t let them hurt you!¡± Clouds of hovering sand shifted. Movement. Dahlia held her breath and remained clenching her fists, biting her lips, one hand reaching inside her skirt pocket for a piece of candy she couldn¡¯t find¡ªand it was only when her stomach growled for more food that she gulped, steeling her nerves and exhaling heavily to steady herself. She knew it. She couldn¡¯t stay in the dark forever, cowering as though she were still back in Alshifa. Maybe¡­ walking outside in the sun, even just a little, would make her head a bit less hazy. The moth took a step back as her extra fists unclenched first, clawing through the sandstone flooring to drag her upper body out from under the bed. She hadn¡¯t noticed it before, but the rug carpet she¡¯d been laying on prevented her bare chest and stomach from being chafed as she crawled out. Her cheeks were flushed a light shade of pink as she pushed off the ground, two arms crossed over her chest, but thankfully the moth was already prepared with a zigzag-striped beige shawl she could drape around the shoulders. It wasn¡¯t the comfiest, but it looked pretty and it covered her just fine. While she fidgeted with her shawl and tried to figure out how to make it wrap around her two extra arms¡ªjutting out a bit behind and above her waist¡ªshe stole a furtive glance at the lady in front of her and came to the logical conclusion, the one she should¡¯ve concluded from the very beginning: no Mutant could possibly take off their face. The moth head was just a mask, and with it tucked tightly under her elbow, Dahlia could see the girl for what she really was. An ordinary human, that was; they were about the same height, but in stark contrast to Dahlia¡¯s short, darker, and curlier hair, hers was long, white as snow, and tied in a thick braid past her nape. She wore an oversized two-piece cloak made of gilded red and gold fabric that covered her entirely from the neck down, shrouding her actual proportions underneath, but by the looks of her four normal-sized hands¡ªall red and black chitin, two jutting out her back like Dahlia¡¯s own¡ªshe was probably Dahlia¡¯s size. A bit more muscular in all likelihood. Her face was freckled with black chitin scales dotting her cheeks, her reddish-golden eyes were sharp like daggers, and her teeth, too; while she may not be a Mutant who devoured human flesh for sustenance, she definitely looked like she could chow through even the toughest and gamiest of muscles. And her face was also¡­ Dahlia¡¯s. Apart from the crimson eyes and jagged teeth, her face was an exact replica of Dahlia¡¯s own. ¡­ I¡¯m just losing it. Blink it away. She¡¯ll look a bit different¡­ after a while. She forced herself to focus on something else. The cloak. The pretty, oversized cloak. It was a shade of gilded, whirlwind-patterned red and gold that seemed to shine, and for a moment when she was beckoned to follow the girl out the front door with a little wave, she completely ignored it in favour of staring at the hand-stitched emblem on the girl¡¯s left shoulder. Two hands overlapping each other, thumbs crossing like antennae, index and middle finger pointing straight out like butterfly wings¡ªwhere had she seen this emblem before? It was familiar. She had seen it before. In Alshifa, in one of her dad¡¯s tomes that he used to establish first communications with her mom¡ªit had to mean something. What was it again? What was that word? ¡°... I am Alice Mandarina of the ¡®Hashara¡¯¡ªthe continent¡¯s strongest independent bug-slaying organisation. So very pleased to meet you,¡± the girl said, dipping into a small bow with all four hands lifting the hems of her cloak; then she looked up and grinned, sharpened teeth bared, and Dahlia felt a shudder running down her spine. She¡¯d seen this gaze before, the blade-like eyes of a predator finding joy in toying with its prey. The Mutant firefly had looked at Raya the same way. [A Hasharana, huh?] Eria muttered. [That is, indeed, the emblem of the wandering bug slayers. She has an Altered Swarmsteel System too. I can say this with a hundred percent certainty: you can trust her for the time being.] She fidgeted where she stood, looking nervously around the room where her friends were nowhere to be seen. In any case, if she wanted to look for them, she couldn¡¯t be stuck in the room under the bed. ¡°... Shall we go and have a tour of the town, Dahlia?¡± Dahlia whipped her head straight forward at the mention of her name, and when she did Alice had already closed the distance, their faces uncomfortably close; she swallowed a gulp and took a step back, but the Hasharana only grabbed her wrist before beginning to drag her out the room. Alice was much, much stronger than she looked. And still her face looked exactly identical to Dahlia¡¯s. ¡­ What species of moth are you, exactly? Chapter 34 - The Sharaji Oasis Town ¡­ Dahlia had heard stories of the ever-burning, ever-bright orb of light in the sky: the ¡®sun¡¯, as the textbooks called it. It was like a firefly that could single-handedly illuminate the entire world, and you couldn¡¯t run from it no matter what corner of the continent you put yourself in. You could always see it. You could always feel it on your skin; she¡¯d already gotten a brief taste of sunlight for three days down in Alshifa, through the little hole in the ceiling that¡¯d always been damp with cold vapours and icy stalactites, and while she¡¯d been preoccupied for the most part dealing with the Swarm invasion, she felt she¡¯d already learned what sunlight was supposed to be. But on the surface, ¡®sunlight¡¯ wasn¡¯t something anyone could just choose to ignore. The sky was a cloudless, peerless, endless blue, but the moment Alice dragged her out her room, the wave of heat that smashed into her bare skin immediately made the world around her distort. She reeled back with a hiss, two arms flying over her eyes while two crossed over her chest, trying to shirk back into the shade. Alice blinked and yanked her out again, down a sandy flight of stairs. She¡¯d never felt so drunk without actually being drunk, but through squinted eyes she almost felt as though she were hallucinating impossible things¡ªbuildings couldn¡¯t wobble, could they? [You are experiencing minor heat exhaustion. [Injecting weak cooling agent.] Eria stabbed its little stylet tube into the back of her neck, and again it was like someone stabbed an icicle into her head, removing the part of her brain that signalled heat and danger. Her lips felt numb. Her skin felt numb. Soothed by the artificial relaxant, she let her arms drop unwittingly and stopped resisting Alice as she half-stumbled down the stairs¡ªher eyes freezing over the cluster of low sandstone buildings huddled around a giant oasis in front of her. ¡­ Bright. Too bright. This is¨C ¡°The Sharaji Oasis Town,¡± Alice chirped, grinning with her head half-turned, her teeth sparkling in the sun. ¡°Come. I¡¯ll show you around first. You must be feeling all humid having been stuck in that dingy room for so long.¡± The oasis town¡¯s layout was simple. Unlike Alshifa, the sandstone buildings on opposite ends of the streets were built far and wide from each other; ¡®spacious¡¯ was the word that came to mind. There were only about a hundred constructions in the entire town, far less than even a single cardinal district in Alshifa, but the desert beyond the oasis was endless and everyone had the space to spare. As Alice brought her down to ground level and started dragging her through the main street, she couldn¡¯t help but squint at the strange, curvy, bronze-gilded architecture of all the constructions. Narrow alleyways were few and far between, quiet and serene, but the main street was bustling with activity at this time of day¡ªthe circular bazaar running around the giant oasis was a melting pot of stalls, sounds, and aromas that captivated her heightened senses. The air was still dry and oppressive with heat, yes, but merchants with faces weathered by the desert winds presided over their stalls with airs of quiet dignity. They were a dense and diverse lot, some clad in flowing layers of deep indigo or rich saffron, their heads wrapped in striped ghutras; others donned simple, loose-fitting tunics and trousers, their faces sheltered by wide-brimmed palm leaf hats; Alice pointed out everything even remotely interesting to her, and for her part she didn¡¯t feel like stopping the Hasharana. At the spice merchant¡¯s stall, ladies in long, flowing beige abayas reached for colourful jars of spices. ¡°Saffron and cumin, cinnamon and cardamom,¡± Alice said, as their fingers left fleeting trails of ¡®paprika and turmeric¡¯. Pungent in the air. Sweetly fragrant all the same. At the brassware merchant¡¯s stall, his eyes sharp and his beard tinged with henna, children were clamouring to weigh their chosen accessories on a scale; she didn¡¯t need Alice telling her to know, very well from her time trading in Alshifa¡¯s Bazaar, that they were probably haggling prices. Nearby, a bored potter on a stool displayed his handcrafted wares on a sprawl of rugs¡ªceramic bowls and vases adorned with intricate blue and white feathered patterns, their glazes shimmering in the intense sunlight. ¡°I don¡¯t know much about the undertowns, but¡­ hey. I¡¯d assume¨C¡± Alice jerked both of them off to the side as the crowd parted momentarily to let a giant humpbacked beast pass, laden with water gourds strapped on its back. The beast¡¯s feet padded heavily against the sand, its long lashes batting aggressively at her as the man riding it waved her off; she gritted her teeth and tensed her muscles, unable to hold in her surprise. ¡°¨Cthe bazaars down there aren¡¯t at all like the ones on the surface. That¡¯s a ¡®camel¡¯. The man riding it is making rounds around the town to distribute water. Nobody¡¯s a real merchant in the sense they have outsiders buying their goods¡ªevery household handles a different task to make sure the oasis town stays afloat all year long.¡± Not like Alshifa, then. Even with her head lowered and her four arms clutching her shawl tightly around her chest, she could tell the oasis town was significantly smaller in population. If everybody only looked out for themselves, there was no way they could sustain living out in the middle of¡­ apparently nowhere. And ¡®nowhere¡¯ was the right word. As Alice yanked her off into a narrow alleyway and out of the circular bazaar street¡ªducking under canvases and woven palm fronds overhead that cast dappled shadows onto the heat-blasted sandstones¡ªthey emerged onto the edge of the town where the dunes were plain and rolling like waves. Everywhere she looked it was just sand, in every conceivable direction. A single gust of wind blew through the town just that moment, and while she braced her face and sputtered a mouthful of sand, the entire landscape changed. The dunes weren¡¯t the same shape, weren¡¯t in the same positions, yet nothing in particular caught her attention. It was all so¡­ big. Wide. Free. She felt if she reached her hand out now and tried to grab at the slowly rising sun, she¡¯d find it suddenly farther away than she¡¯d thought¡­ and when she did try, almost unconsciously, she nearly stepped off the sandstones and slipped down a dune. Were it not for Alice yanking her back by the shawl, she would¡¯ve planted her face into the ground for sure. Instead she was pulled along the edge of town, skirting around the storehouse shacks, passing a humongous belltower, before she was dragged back into the centre of town through another narrow alleyway. She realised why they¡¯d taken a little detour on the outskirts when they emerged on a not-so-crowded street¡ªthe main street was almost permanently congested with people and foot traffic¡ªand now, face to face with the sparkling emerald oasis stretched out in front of her, she felt her throat rumbling for a drink she really should¡¯ve had with her dumplings from earlier. She looked nervously around first before checking Alice¡¯s face for permission. It still irked and creeped her out a little that the Hasharana looked exactly like her, but no doubt it was a mutation ability, and she was still very thirsty¡ªso when Alice smiled and tilted her head at the oasis, Dahlia immediately rushed forward to kneel by the water¡¯s edge. Cupping a handful, she brought her hands to her mouth and drank greedily, loudly. Her extra arms hung limp behind her, resting on the sand. Starvation she was quite used to, but dehydration¡­ not so much. If there was one thing Alshifa wasn¡¯t lack of, it was water from the underground basins their great ancestors had built the undertowns over. Her tongue was numb as she awkwardly swallowed handful after handful, squeezing her eyes shut; the oasis water was clean and pure, almost too pure. It almost didn¡¯t taste like water. She¡¯d been expecting some chunks of sediment or teeth-grating minerals in it, but¨C Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. A jolt rippled up her spine and she spun, her extra hands clawing at the air as Alice tried to touch her without warning. ¡­ She¡¯d moved fast. Very fast. Unknowingly she took two steps back into the oasis, cold water reaching up to her shins, but she heaved and panted and wiped water from her lips as she glared at the Hasharana¡ªand Alice looked utterly nonplussed though she¡¯d almost had her throat clawed out. On the young girl¡¯s identical face was a cordial smile that didn¡¯t carry the meaning behind it, lips stretched to mimic friendliness, red and black irises struggling to make direct contact with hers; she couldn¡¯t help but shudder again with her two normal arms hugging herself. ¡°... I was just trying to check out your insect arms. Sorry if I frightened you!¡± Alice said with a cheer, without a hint of worry, as she spread all four arms out and laughed. ¡°You¡¯re¡­ well, my Altered Swarmsteel System refuses to give me any information on what exactly an ¡®Assassin Bug¡¯ does. I know you¡¯re some sort of hemiptera, and there are rumours that people who mutate black chitin are bad omens, but¡­ I¡¯m still curious, you know? Can I touch your insect arms for a bit? Just for a bit?¡± The corners of her eyes twitched. ¡°N¡­ No.¡± Alice tilted her head. ¡°Why not?¡± ¡°Because¡­ because they¡¯re mine.¡± ¡°You can touch mine if you want. I don¡¯t mind!¡± ¡°No, it¡¯s not¡­ that. Wrong. If you get closer, I might¡­ I might lose control again and¨C¡± ¡°Like this?¡± It happened in an instant, though she was entirely focused; Alice took a step forward and it was like she¡¯d taken three instead, the Hasharana¡¯s grinning face mere inches from her own. That did the trick. Her heart pounded, her spine screamed, she clutched her head with both hands and doubled over as her extra arms shot out, going straight for Alice¡¯s antennae. For the Hasharana¡¯s part, she didn¡¯t panic, didn¡¯t do much of anything; Alice sidestepped casually, and suddenly it was like Dahlia¡¯s whole body was wrapped in invisible wires. She couldn¡¯t move as Alice hummed a joyous beat, stepping around her to touch her arms. [Calm down, Dahlia. This is another fit. Endure this, and¨C] Vision swirling bright red, she chomped down on the air in front of her and bit¡­ something away. She couldn''t see it, but there were invisible threads binding her body. Alice blinked. The Hasharana¡¯s smile was as blank and empty as ever. With one restraint on her head loosened she freed the rest of her limbs in tandem, jerking them forward and out of the threads with sheer brute force¡ªand she felt she would¡¯ve pounced and ripped Alice¡¯s face off were it not for that warm, familiar sensation wrapping around her neck again. Someone was hugging her. Many someones. [... Don¡¯t, Dahlia,] Issam whispered in her left ear, his breath tickling her skin, her burning blood subdued by his voice. [I¡¯m sure she didn¡¯t mean anything bad. She¡¯s curious, that¡¯s all. Don¡¯t fight her over something small like that.] [I fight Aylee all the time, and I never go for the face,] Ayla whispered. [Maybe one good hit to the stomach. Just that one. But no more than that, okay?] [She saved you,] Aylee said. [Don¡¯t bite the hand that feeds,] Amula agreed. [Unless she bites you, of course. Then feel free to kill her and drink her blood.] [Thweep!] Jerie agreed. [Besides, you¡¯re still weak and hungry. You¡¯re not like me. Sit the hell down and calm yourself,] Raya mumbled¡ªand that was the final straw. The boiling, feral blood in her calmed down. The red tendrils slowly faded from her vision, slithering back behind her eyes. She managed to throw herself off to the side before she could lurch straight into Alice, and that made her tumble, fall, roll sideways through the shallow waters before sitting up straight, gasping¡ªher head wasn¡¯t muddled now. She could hear the winds cutting gentle breeze across the palm trees, flinging trails of sand across the town, and the loud, not at all indistinct chattering of the crowd beginning to form around them; and the hundred or so of them looked as angry as they were wary. At first, she wondered if they were simply frightened of the way the two of them looked¡ªboth sporting four arms and vibrant-coloured eyes that were entirely out of place in a sea of dull greys and beige¨Cbut then she saw their furrowed brows and nasty scowls and someone immediately stepped forward from the crowd. It was a middle-aged lady with dark skin, clad in a finely embroidered attire of orange silk. The ruby necklace and brass headchains gave off an air of authority around her, and the two burly men trailing her with mail armour and long saifs sheathed on their belts were more than indication enough; she had the power to turn the entire town against them with a single word. While Alice chatted amicably with the lady in the foreign tongue she couldn''t understand, she took yet another unconscious step backwards, deeper in the oasis. She didn''t mean to. She just didn''t like hearing the townsfolk shout and seeing them point fingers at her¡ªbut her fourth step made the lady snap at her from the shore, unsheathing one of her guard''s saifs so she could raise it at Dahlia. Dahlia froze, her blood running cold in the sweltering heat. What did she do wrong? ¡°... The chief says we''re not supposed to be standing in the oasis,¡± Alice translated, shrugging aimlessly as the chief continued shouting at her, face twisted into a horrible, nasty scowl. ¡°She''s telling both of us to get out now before we incur the wrath of Madamaron, a local¡­ spirit, or something. If we anger it, misfortune will befall upon the entire town and there''ll be no rainfall for the rest of the month.¡± That sounded easy enough to comply with. Hurriedly, she skipped out of the oasis and back onto the sand, dragging Alice along with her. Still, the chief didn''t lower the blade. The rest of the crowd started shaking their fists, raising their voices, clamouring around the two of them as the chief''s guards put the least amount of effort in keeping the peace; Dahlia couldn''t help but wince and wilt behind Alice as the chief kept on shouting at her, eyes still unbelievably furious. ¡°She''s saying they''ve nursed you and kept you safe for long enough, so now they want answers,¡± Alice translated again, standing between her and the chief. ¡°In her words, ¡®one four-arms is more than enough¡¯. They don''t particularly like people who eat insects here. They want to know what happened in your undertown that led to you being the sole survivor before they can accept you as a permanent townsfolk.¡± Dahlia gulped. Alice rapid-fired a slew of words that didn''t sound like a human could make, and while the chief argued back at first, her guards¡¯ hands on the hilts of their weapons, the townsfolk quickly grew quiet. Loud chattering became hushed murmurs, hushed murmurs became nothing at all¡ªmost of the wrinkled elders looked suspicious of her, still, but the younger folk looked¡­ placated. Understanding of their situation. Alice turned back to her a moment longer, shooting her a wide grin. ¡°I told them to give you one week,¡± Alice said. ¡°One week for your body to acclimate to the surface, for your mind to calm, and then you¡¯re going to have to spill everything you know to me. They¡¯re worried about more hidden undertowns like yours opening up into ravines. It¡¯s going to be more work for them, after all.¡± Dahlia twiddled her claws, cutting her palms in the process. ¡°More¡­ work? What''s that mean?¡± ¡°Nothing you need to worry about. You must be hungry about now, right? Surely those dumplings weren¡¯t enough for you? Wanna go to my uncle¡¯s tavern? It¡¯s pretty out of the way, so I¡¯m sure we¡¯ll get some peace and quiet there!¡± ¡°I¡¯m¡­ I¡¯m fine¨C¡± ¡°Let¡¯s go!¡± Alice wasn¡¯t going to take no for an answer, and before she could even reel away, the Hasharana started pulling her through the crowd. Despite her protests, Alice didn¡¯t stop; it wasn¡¯t long after that she stopped resisting as well, because the hundred or so pair of wary eyes trained on her wasn¡¯t reassuring at all. She¡¯d resigned herself to being stared at wherever she went, but if Alice¡¯s uncle''s place was going to be less crowded¡­ She supposed she could trust Alice for just a little bit longer. ¡­ Eria. [Yes?] Do you know what, exactly, is Alice¡¯s insect class? How did she bind me in place like that? Silence for a while. [By order of the ranking of Altered Swarmsteel Systems, I am not permitted to disclose that information.] Chapter 35 - The Breathing Tavern The Sulfuric Scourge is looking for a beast to ride around the continent with. He has three criteria: it must be able to support both him and his niece, it must not be able to complain, and it must be resilient above all else. Three towns before De Balla of the Rampaging Swarmsteel Front, where giant Swarmsteel are deployed to clash against titans, he is shopping for his ride. His niece is riding on his back, snoring lightly. As the Tamera tries to sell him every beast they come across in the caravan souk, he notices most of the beasts are frail and languid, bony and sickly; none of them will do for the journey his niece is about to undertake, and if he is paying hundreds of thousands for a beast that will never let him down, he wants only the best the Tamera isn¡¯t showing him. Just as the Tamera sighs and is about to give up on selling him anything, he hears chains rattling in the back of the souk. He trudges over and sees a giant empress cicada caged in with a hundred metal pipes. Its wings are clipped off, but it has the most vibrant golden chitin he has ever seen. Even bound in chains and forced to lay flat against the ground, it had to be at least eight metres tall, ten metres tall¡ªthe Tamera sees his brows arching curiously and immediately flies into merchant mode. ¡°It¡¯s not tamed by any means, but if you¡¯re willing to buy it off us, we¡¯ll gladly give you a discount! Ten thousand only!¡± the Tamera says, walking closer to the pipes to gesture at the giant cicada. ¡°It¡¯s¡­ well, it¡¯s a giant cicada. We captured it when it was just a nymph out on the Rampaging Hinterland Front. It¡¯ll keep growing, I assure you, and one thing you can do with a cicada that you can¡¯t do with anything else: male cicadas have hollow abdomens for acoustic purposes, which means, if you¡¯re planning on using it as a ride¨C¡± ¡°We can ride inside the cicada with a bit of cleanup,¡± the Sulfuric Scourge finished. He walks closer to the cage, and the cicada¡¯s eyes moved. ¡°By ¡®untamed¡¯, I presume you mean it¡¯ll try to kill me any chance I get.¡± A bead of sweat rolled down the Tamera¡¯s face. ¡°Uh¡­ yes. That is correct. But we do sell Swarmsteel and equipment that will make controlling it easier, if not downright¨C¡± The Sulfuric Scourge glared back at the cicada. It started straining against its bindings, ripping its chains from the ground, and the Tamera freaks. So does every other Tamera trying to sell beasts to small-time customers. He snorts and takes his hands out of his pockets, drawing his shell-splitting kitchen knife. They must be fools to think they could contain a giant insect; the Swarm are no mere bugs for humans to treat and keep as slaves. It takes twenty seconds for the empress cicada to free itself, and another five seconds for it to rear its head at him. He doesn¡¯t move. The Tamera raise their nailguns at once, but the cicada breaks through the cage with ease, charging straight at him with its forelegs sharpened and raised. His niece wakes up, wiping her eyes groggily. ¡°... Uncle Safi,¡± she mumbles. ¡°What time is it?¡± ¡°The time?¡± The winds still. The Tamera are quiet. The empress cicada freezes a single inch before his face, for the tip of his kitchen knife is pressed right between its eyes, ready to carve and turn it into a dry-scalped dish¡ªand he smirks to himself, finding the bug more than satisfactory for the price he was going to pay for it. Any giant insect that can tell the difference between their power and choose not to attack is no mere slave, but an equal. So he will treat the cicada as his equal. He has found his ride. ¡°... It¡¯s time to go,¡± he says, patting his niece on the head. ¡°You have an exam to catch, no? The¡­ Hasharana Entrance Exam, it¡¯s called?¡± His niece nods slowly. ¡°Mhm.¡± ¡°Alright, then. We¡¯ll make this guy walk overtime.¡± - Scene from Sarana Balla Town past
¡­ When Alice had said they¡¯d be going to her uncle¡¯s tavern, Dahlia wondered at first how the two of them¡ªtravellers not from the Sharaji Oasis Town¡ªcould possibly have a temporary business set up in the middle of nowhere. It wasn¡¯t until Alice dragged her to the eastern edge of town, where the morning sun was cresting over the horizon, that she realised her definition of a ¡®tavern¡¯ might not be quite the same as the surface world¡¯s definition. The tavern was built into a particularly out-of-place dune, sand dug out to create the impression of a cave hollow. There was no ¡®building¡¯ on the outside, but a small wooden sign weathered by the elements stabbed into the ground to invite visitors in; a single circular archway was the means of entry into the hollow. Dahlia stood outside the dune for a good second, wondering how it was possible anyone could build a tavern underneath a dune¡ªwhere the winds could blow away all the sand at any given time¡ªbut Alice didn¡¯t give her more than a second to ponder. Sunlight was blaring hot, the Hasharana evidently wanted to get under a shade. She was pulled in, almost tripping over the little sill at the bottom of the archway as she did. Inside, Dahlia immediately smelled the aroma of spiced meat and strong, dark coffee. The tavern was incredibly spacious within. She¡¯d thought it would be small like a prison cell for how unassuming the entrance was, but the tavern was hung with giant firefly lanterns on metal hooks, the five metre tall ceiling arched and vaulted with intricate plasterwork. Soft rugs cushioned the warm wooden floorboards and there weren¡¯t any windows, but the heat wasn¡¯t stifling. Low tables were scattered throughout, potted plants taking the place of stools here and there, plush cushions surrounding the dark wooden walls to invite patrons to linger. And there were patrons here. Mostly kids, sure, crowded around the bar at the back of the tavern, but their cheerful chatter with the man behind the bar blended quite gently with the¡­ ¡®noise¡¯, coming from all around. Dahlia froze again at the doorway, her arms spreading out as she found herself struggling to keep her balance. Her eyes weren¡¯t deceiving her. The walls, the floorboards, the firefly lanterns and the little stools and potted plants¡ªthey were swaying, ever so slightly, as though she¡¯d entered the belly of a giant beast. ¡­ ¡­ I don¡¯t really want to know, do I? It was true. She didn¡¯t really care to know. Not right now, at least; not while Alice was pulling her straight to the bar, shooing the children away and out of the tavern. They were surprisingly giddy seeing Alice wave all four of her arms, as though they found her more intriguing than terrifying to stare at, and neither did they protest as they raced out of the tavern laughing. That left only the two of them and the old man chopping leeks in the tavern, and he had his back turned, so Dahlia couldn¡¯t get a good look at his face. She assumed he was Alice¡¯s uncle, though. The same ashen grey hair. The same lighter-toned skin. He had on a gilded apron tied snugly around his waist, and for whatever reason he was wearing a wide-brimmed metal hat though they were indoors, undaunted by sunlight¡ªit reminded her a little of the bug trader¡¯s strange manners of dress. Alas, she was pulled onto a high stool before Alice jumped on an adjacent stool, the Hasharana tapping her nails on the bar in a sharp, rhythmic pattern. ¡°Uncle Safi,¡± she started, laying her upper body flat against the bar with her arms sprawled out. ¡°I¡¯m hungryyyyy. Can I have¨C¡± ¡°Two Marebian Fire-Roasted Beetlelash coming up.¡± Safi didn¡¯t turn back to even glance at her before disappearing through a door at the back of the bar, and it was only then that she realised the tavern was far, far bigger than she¡¯d thought. Maybe it was the entire size of the dune. Maybe Alice could pull a cord and stairs would drop down from the ceiling, revealing a second floor. She started shifting and shuffling in her seat when the whole tavern ¡®rumbled¡¯ again, almost as though something were breathing underneath their feet, but Alice grabbed a tuft of her hair between two fingers and made her turn¡ªtwo gourds of water already placed in front of them. A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation. When had Safi even served them drinks? ¡°... I don¡¯t know how much you undertowners know, but I assume you¡¯re clueless about everything that has happened on the surface,¡± Alice said, taking a swig of her gourd and beaming at her the entire time. ¡°How about it? Wanna hear everything there is to know? Promise I won¡¯t bore you. I bet you people thought there was nobody living on the surface, eh?¡± ¡°Um¡­ no,¡± Dahlia mumbled back, looking left and right before picking up her water gourd with both hands. ¡°I¡­ I knew. I was told. Not long ago. People still live on the surface, and you¡¯re fighting the Swarm on seven¨C¡± ¡°Right! The Seven Swarmsteel Fronts! Did your Archive tell you that?¡± Alice interrupted, but she wasn¡¯t waiting for an answer. She looked all too happy to begin rambling by herself. ¡°We¡¯re on the last standing continent in the world, and yes, the Seven Swarmsteel Fronts are humanity¡¯s final bastions against the Swarm, but never mind them for the time being. We¡¯re in the Sharaji Desert right now, which means we¡¯re far and away from any of the big fronts¡­ but that doesn¡¯t mean giant insects don¡¯t sneak past the borders sometimes and make it into the continent. That¡¯s what we¡¯re here for!¡± Dahlia frowned as she took a big, long sip from her gourd. ¡°We? Who¡¯s¡­ we?¡± Alice clasped all four hands over her chest, smiling proudly. ¡°The Hasharana, of course. We¡¯re an independent bug-slaying organisation headed by the Worm God of the Genesis Glade Front, because he alone is capable of holding the southernmost end of the continent without needing people to support him. We get sent out on missions all across the continent¡ªmost are bug eradication missions, but sometimes we¡¯re ordered to reinforce a particular front, and other times we¡¯re ordered to just perform a bit of investigation for the Worm God. My point is¨C¡± She jabbed a finger at Dahlia¡¯s throat, her smile turning into a dangerous smirk ¡°¨Cyou¡¯re not supposed to have an Altered Swarmsteel System.¡± ¡­ Dahlia didn¡¯t know what to say. She barely caught everything Alice had said. ¡°... I¡¯m not¡­ supposed to have Eria?¡± she mumbled, pointing at herself as she tilted her head. ¡°Why¡­ not?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know how you got it, but the ''Altered'' Swarmsteel Systems are private property, made only by the Hasharana¡¯s most talented Makers,¡± Alice explained. ¡°You don¡¯t know how they¡¯re made, and I don¡¯t, either. They¡¯re super private property. A single Altered Swarmsteel System can sell for hundreds of thousands of silvers, and that¡¯s because the only legitimate way to get one is by taking the Hasharana Entrance Exam hosted once every year¡ªit¡¯s a big festival, really, that fighters and warriors from all across the continent can participate in. Anyone who passes the three stages of the exam gets the title of ¡®Hasharana¡¯ alongside an Altered Swarmsteel System. From there on, they can increase their rank within the organisation until they earn the title of an ¡®Arcana Hasharana¡¯, who are basically the strongest Hasharana on the continent." Dahlia blinked. ¡°You say ''Altered'' like there''s a normal version. There¡¯s different types of systems, then?¡± ¡°Just two. The ¡®normal¡¯ one is just called a ¡®Swarmsteel System¡¯, which lots of people across the continent have,¡± Alice said, raising a single finger. ¡°Every soldier in the Attini Empire has one. Every Plagueplain Doctor in the Plagueplain Front has one. Basically everybody in any military has one, and those ones are relatively¡­ eh. They serve their purpose just fine. But the difference between a normal Swarmsteel System and an Altered Swarmsteel System¡ªthe one that sells for tons¡ª is the presence of a little assistant that is connected to an archive of information. The ¡®Archive¡¯ you can talk to in your head is the most valuable part. It¡¯s instant information you can access anywhere you want, whenever you want. A normal soldier with a Swarmsteel System may not know how best to attribute their points, but the Archive of an Altered Swarmsteel System will teach you everything you need to know to start a prosperous business. Massive difference.¡± ¡°I¡­ see,¡± Dahlia muttered, glancing at Eria perched on her shoulder as she did. ¡°So¡­ overall, Altered Swarmsteel Systems are just rare?¡± ¡°An average of one thousand people register in the exam every year.¡± ¡°How many people pass all three stages?¡± ¡°Mm¡­ Twenty people every year?¡± ¡°And how many Arcana Hasharana are there?¡± ¡°The organisation was founded thirty years ago, and there are currently twenty-one Arcana Hasharana,¡± Alice said plainly, bowing with a wide grin as she did. ¡°So that¡¯s basically it. We, the wandering bug slayers, are the Worm God¡¯s foot soldiers¡ªand the Worm God sent me here, to the Sharaji Oasis Town, to carry out three duties.¡± Without warning. Without signal. Invisible threads wrapped around her neck and Alice pulled her close, almost making her lurch out of her chair. She was stopped right before she could fall into Alice, but by that point it was already too late; the Hasharana had trapped her in an invisible web again, and she couldn¡¯t budge an inch as Alice reached around her shoulders to caress her nape. Her skin tingled as the worm in her spine shivered. ¡°The first duty is to track down the cocoons that landed across the Sharaji Desert, and to exterminate all giant insects that might arise as a result,¡± Alice said, and Dahlia squeezed her eyes shut as the Hasharana started feeling her spinal protrusions one by one, down her back; eventually she gasped and failed to suppress a shudder, the Hasharana finding the worm¡¯s exact spot halfway down her spine. ¡°The second duty is to find the source of ¡®system disruption¡¯ around this area, which, by the way, means there is an unregistered Altered Swarmsteel System nearby. You must¡¯ve tried to access redacted information from your system¡¯s Archive a while ago, so not only did you fail to access it back then, you¡¯ve also flagged yourself as someone using something you shouldn¡¯t be using. That¡¯s why the Worm God sent me here to check it out.¡± Dahlia gulped. ¡°And¡­ what happens to people who use an unregistered Altered Swarmsteel System?¡± Alice peeled away from her to stare at her blankly. ¡°They die,¡± she said matter-of-factly. ¡°There¡¯s too much risk in letting someone get an Archive without being vetted by someone at least on the rank of an Arcana Hasharana, so, by rule of law, I¡¯m supposed to kill you and retrieve the stolen system. I don¡¯t really care how you got it in the first place; the investigation of recent proliferation in stolen systems is The Wheel of Fortune¡¯s job. ¡°However, as you can see, we are in the middle of nowhere. ¡°So if you just hand over your Altered Swarmsteel System to me, I¡¯ll let you live.¡± ¡­ A firm ultimatum. There was no lie in Alice¡¯s eyes, no hint of hesitation¡ªif she refused, she¡¯d really be killed, and surely the young Hasharana wouldn¡¯t even lose a wink of sleep over it. But¡­ the idea of parting with Eria just didn¡¯t sit well with her. And her reasoning wasn¡¯t anything ¡®logical¡¯. [It is true that, according to Hasharana protocol, all unregistered Altered Swarmsteel Systems must be retrieved once a Hasharana comes in contact with one,] Eria said in a cool tone of voice. [If your desire¡­ is to live a peaceful life, then it is worth removing me from your body. You will have to take care not to let your mutations get the better of you, but in time, you¡­ you will¨C] ¡°I don¡¯t want to,¡± she said out loud, gritting her teeth. Alice raised a brow, but didn¡¯t look particularly surprised. ¡°Eria¡­ has gone through what happened in Alshifa with me. She¡¯s seen everything with me. She¡¯s experienced everything with me. ¡°She¡¯s more than just a ¡®system¡¯ to me. ¡°She¡¯s¡­ she¡¯s my friend¨C¡± ¡°I knew you¡¯d say that, so I wasn¡¯t planning on asking you for it back right now.¡± Alice shrugged, as Safi suddenly appeared behind the bar, dumped two plates of steaming roasted meat in front of them, and swung away before Dahlia could even see his face. For her part, Alice pulled her plate closer and simply started chowing down on the meat. ¡°Besides, I have¡­ things to test with you¡­ about your insect class. So¡­ until I get my answers¡­ and everything I want out of you¡­ you can keep your Altered Swarmsteel System. ¡°Good¡­ deal?¡± ¡­ It was uncanny seeing a perfect replica of her own face eating so ravenously, but her stomach was growling about now, too, and she couldn¡¯t hold it any longer. Tentatively, she picked apart the upturned beetle with its abdominal chitin removed, scooping out what seemed to be tough and gamey meat with her claws. It wasn¡¯t as strange now, but to think just a few weeks ago she¡¯d have puked even at the thought of putting insect flesh close to her lips¡ªnow, she didn¡¯t like to admit it, but the fire-roasted beetle meat tasted exactly like the luxurious lamb she¡¯d had only once back in Alshifa, on her tenth birthday. In other words, it was delicious. ¡°... Before I let you go back to sleep and rest, I wanna show you something,¡± Alice said in an unusually quiet voice, sneaking glances at her between bites. ¡°After this meal, of course. And you¡¯ll probably want lunch. And dinner. I¡¯ll bring food over to your room, so just follow me after this, alright?¡± Dahlia couldn¡¯t help but purse her lips and sulk. She didn¡¯t want to hear Alice pestering her to let go of Eria. Even though¡­ Even though she knew she probably wouldn¡¯t be able to persuade the Hasharana, she wanted to try. She wanted to try. ¡°Okay, Dahlia? ¡°Go with me? ¡°... Fine.¡± Chapter 36 - Arimaila Funeral The two of them had an early lunch in Alice¡¯s uncle¡¯s tavern, but by the time noon rolled around Dahlia¡¯s stomach was growling again¡ªsure, she was drowsy, hot, and sticky as well, but mainly it was hunger that made her not want to go wherever Alice was trying to bring her. After leaving the tavern, the young Hasharana commandeered a giant camel from one of the townsfolk and told her to hop on. The man didn''t look too pleased, but once Alice said something and pointed out into the dunes, in the direction of the rising sun, the man glanced over at her and sighed. Dahlia couldn''t help but frown. Even trying to figure out a single word of the Oasis Town''s foreign tongue was proving to be an impossible task, and Alice could probably tell she was feeling immensely awkward, so before long she was dragged in front of the camel to avoid another difficult human interaction.. ¡­ Wow. Um. The camel was a frighteningly large beast, over twice her height, but with a bit of nagging from Alice and bleating from the hairy beast, she surprised herself by being able to jump straight onto its back hump in a single leap. She was stronger now, after all. Her newly enhanced body didn¡¯t just show with her extra arms. Whispering for Eria to pull up her status screen, she wrapped two shaky arms around Alice¡¯s waist and hoped she wouldn¡¯t be kicked off or anything; she didn''t want to have her first time riding a beast end up with her skull caved in. So she focused, instead, on the little words in her status screen while Alice kicked the side of the camel, the beast harrumphing for a moment before it started trudging out of the town and into the endless golden dunes. [Name: Dahlia Sina] [Class: Assassin Bug] [BloodVolume: 2.9/4.8 (68%), Strain: 453/837 (54%)] [Unallocated Points: 38] [// BASIC ATTRIBUTES] [Strength: 1 (+4), Speed: 1 (+0), Dexterity: 8 (+5), Toughness: 1 (+0), Perceptivity: 3 (+0), StrainLimit: 837] [// MUTATION TREE ] [// UNIQUE SWARMSTEEL LIST] [2x Assassin Bug Claw Gauntlet (Quality = C)(Dex +5/5)(Str +4/12)(Strain +395)] ¡­ Alice had an Altered Swarmsteel System, too, but she didn''t feel like talking about it out loud. The camel was sprinting full-speed ahead, and while Alice could pull a moth mask down, she had neither scarf nor shades to cover her face with; she''d swallow mouthfuls of sand if she tried to speak now. Instead, she squeezed her eyes shut and buried her face behind Alice''s shoulders, clutching on for dear life as Eria wriggled on her spine. [Although it would appear Alice removed most of your Swarmsteel, you still have thirty-eight unallocated points from what little chunks of flesh you managed to devour off the Mutant firefly,] Eria said. [Ignoring the mutations you can unlock for now, I would advise you to put twenty free points into strain limit. With more stamina, you would be able to recover from your Swarmsteel withdrawal quicker, and hereafter you would possess a healthier, sturdier vitality. You will feel less headaches, poisons cannot hurt you as much¡ªyou would still have eighteen points left after you do so.] Anything to stop the aches, she thought. Eria took that as confirmation to allocate her points, and immediately she shuddered in place, her claws tightening and digging into Alice¡¯s cloak involuntarily. It wasn¡¯t like a cold knife being shoved through her head; it was a sewage gate being destroyed so a flood of water could rush through her veins, clearing her blood vessels of any impurities. Her body didn¡¯t feel any lighter. She just felt¡­ more clear in mind. Her vision was less hazy, her ears were less plugged, she felt she could taste every individual grain of sand flying up her nose¡ªshe coughed and hacked and hid herself behind Alice once more while the young Hasharana laughed. ¡°You¡¯re handling your attributes with your Altered Swarmsteel System, aren¡¯t you?¡± Alice asked, glancing back with her mask shifted slightly. A cheeky smile pulled on the corner of her lips. ¡°I hope it told you to put some points into your strain limit. It¡¯s not exactly the most useful attribute for a bug-slayer, but if you¡¯re just planning on living a normal, peaceful life, I¡¯d say it¡¯s good to not have to worry about whether this berry is poisonous or this weather will make you catch a disease-ridden cold. Heck, you might as well put all of your points into strain limit. You¡¯ll be able to live a good, long life if you do so.¡± Dahlia pried one eye open and blinked, trying not to part her own lips too much. ¡°How¡­ did you know¡­ I was talking in my head?¡± she asked. ¡°Can you see¡­ my status screen, too?¡± ¡°People with Altered Swarmsteel Systems cannot see each other¡¯s status screens,¡± Alice replied. ¡°Only those with a higher rank, like an Arcana Hasharana, can freely see the status screens of those with a lower rank. But I just kinda guessed you were talking in your head. You do this little head tilt thing whenever you seem like you¡¯re deep in thought.¡± Eria whistled. [She¡¯s good-] ¡°And then your Altered Swarmsteel System just called me good,¡± Alice continued, without missing a beat. Dahlia snapped upright to stare at her, but she wasn¡¯t glancing around now as they rode over the first crest of a dune, the camel racing towards another one in the distance. ¡°Again. You just¡­ you just read my mind¨C¡± ¡°It¡¯s not a living being, and it¡¯s not your friend!¡± Alice said curtly, sounding too cheery for her liking. ¡°Remember: they¡¯re Swarmsteel made from the parts of a dead insect. They¡¯re repurposed to talk to you, to give you information, to help you control your attributes and mutations, but the Great Makers of the Hasharana like to call them¡­ what¡¯s that weird term they like to use? An ¡®Artificial Intelligence¡¯? Their design and engineering may be out of this world for ninety-nine percent of the continent, but because they were made for humans by humans, you can kinda predict what they¡¯ll all say if you interact with just one long enough. They¡¯re pretty boring like that. This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. ¡°That¡¯s why you don¡¯t have to feel bad about letting yours go. ¡°It may have altered its settings a little to match your preferences, but once it is returned to the Hasharana and has its information updated, everything it knows as experienced through you will be known to every other Altered Swarmsteel System as well. ¡°It¡¯s nothing really special at all.¡± ¡­ Eria had no rebuttal as it sat quietly on her shoulder, and to that, Dahlia thought¡­ perhaps, it wasn¡¯t designed to give a rebuttal in topics like these. If it had nothing to say, it meant Alice was speaking the truth. Even still, she felt a deep-seated unease swirling in her stomach as she thought about parting with the little black bug¡ªand to think she would¡¯ve gladly smashed it with her palm just a few weeks ago, she felt her present attachment to the ¡®living¡¯ Swarmsteel had to be worth something. She wanted Eria to herself. She didn¡¯t want Eria to ¡®reconnect with the others'' or whatever. ¡°... Even though, even if you let it go, you won¡¯t be alone in remembering your undertown?¡± Alice¡¯s voice was unusually soft again, and the camel screeched to a halt as the reins were pulled, its bleating pulling her out of her mind. She opened her eyes. Before her, the sea of sand rolled and changed shapes smoothly, an ever-changing desert no more solid than a cube of ice left out to dry. By now she''d gotten used to seeing the desert wherever she turned to look, but below the crest of the dune Alice had stopped the camel on, there was something else¡ªa deep, obsidian, rocky crater opened up in the middle of the desert like a gateway to the depths of hell. Her chest clenched painfully. She''d never seen it from above like this, and sunlight couldn''t really pierce through to the bottom of the crater, but¡­ once upon a time, before a hole ever opened up, she was sure it protected the Alshifa undertown from the giant horrors of the surface world. And there were hundreds of small, moving dots far below, wading back and forth along the crater. ¡­ It took her a while to realise they weren''t ants. The crater attracted hundreds of townsfolk from the Sharaji Oasis Town as waterfalls of sand trickled in by the minute. In several months or years it¡¯d probably be completely filled with sand, but that day wasn¡¯t today, and the townsfolk were busy working in tandem to erect ornate wooden fences around the edge of the crater; smiths were dispatched from the forges to provide their nailing and metalworking skills; haulers carried wooden spikes and hung brass chains between them to fill in the blank spaces; men on camels rode around handing out water gourds to anyone looking like they needed a drink; an escort of a dozen women in full black abayas walked in slow circles around the crater, and each of them carried in their hands, close to their chests, a bundle of gold and red bushy flowers that she could see glimmering even from a hundred metres away. She didn''t need to get up close and personal to tell what type of flower they were holding, nor to tell the men were taking exceptional care not to quicken the waterfalls of sand filling in the crater. The fences were purely to stop people from accidentally falling in, while the flowers the women left behind every ten metres or so¡­ ¡°... They call it the ¡®Arima¡¯ila Funeral¡¯, for houses that are swallowed by the desert in spring,¡± Alice said, feeding a handful of berries to the camel while Dahlia stared, eyes looking far and distant. ¡°The desert spirits of the swallowed town cannot come in contact with brass, so the chains and the fences keep them contained until the winds eat away at their lingering attachment to the world. Soon, your undertown will be quiet, and when the desert fills it in it will be like it never existed at all. ¡°Hence, the most resilient of flowers to remember the funeral site by. ¡°The desert will not swallow the flowers; they are an offering to Madamaron, the Wind Deity; Sharaji is not displeased. ¡°And that means it''s going to be alright.¡± Without turning, without looking back, Alice rubbed her head and forced her to contain her quiet sniffling. But she couldn''t quite hold it in after all. ¡°... Long after you and your Altered Swarmsteel System pass from this world, the Sharaji Oasis Town will remember the little undertown that took down a Mutant,¡± Alice said, and through her quiet sobs she rubbed her eyes, swallowed her tears; she can''t cry again. ¡°They¡¯re afraid and wary of you now, yes, but they don''t bear any ill will towards your people. Even if you forget¡ªand I don''t think you will¡ªthey will tend to the flowers, and they will preserve them even after the desert fills in the crater. ¡°So it''s fine to part with your Altered Swarmsteel System. ¡°There are still people who will remember.¡± She knew. She believed. Judging by the amount of fences and chains already nailed in place, the townsfolk of the Sharaji Oasis Town must¡¯ve been working on preserving the crater for at least a week, maybe even two¡ªand either they didn¡¯t want to tell her about it because they¡¯d wanted it to be a surprise, or Alice had just never bothered to mention it in translation because she should really be resting in bed instead. But she was glad, nevertheless, that she was brought out here to witness this sight. A small smile twisted her lips, and with it, her heart. ¡°... Can I still have some time to think about it?¡± she whispered, raising one trembling finger. ¡°One¡­ one month. Just one. I¡¯ll¡­ I¡¯ll give you my answer then.¡± Alice turned around now, grinning widely. ¡°I¡¯d prefer if you tell me what happened in your undertown first, but sure. I can give you more than a month. You have until I receive orders to leave the Oasis Town to make a decision, which should be pretty far away.¡± Dahlia nodded. ¡°U¡­ Understood. Gratitude. I¡¯ll tell you what you want to know¨C¡± ¡°Tomorrow. Today and tonight, you rest. I need to hear the whole thing properly so I can translate it to the townsfolk and the higher ups.¡± Without another word, Alice kicked the Camel¡¯s side and pulled its reins back, turning them around. The whole way back, Dahlia couldn¡¯t stop herself from smiling wistfully back at the crater. People will remember. People will remember, Eria. [... They will, indeed.] [And now it is time for you to heal.] Chapter 37 - The Shadow of Sharaji ¡°... Dad. I think it¡¯s gone. We don¡¯t have¨C¡± ¡°Shh.¡± Ousam clamps a hand over his son¡¯s mouth and pushes him down, down, down under the bed. The night is dark out. The desert winds are roaring. His wife isn¡¯t here. She is out nursing another child, thank the divine¡ªhe wouldn¡¯t know what he¡¯d do if he had to stop both her and his son from making a sound. The firefly lantern on the desk rattles. The window flaps shuffle. Ousam grits his teeth and holds a sand-trudging stick in his hands. It is the only weapon he has against the roaming desert spirit, so it will have to do. The shadow stops outside his door. Something breathes. Something tries for the doorknob. It turns, the door swings open, he bellows and raises his stick¨C And nearly kills his wife after a long, hard day of work. ¡°... Ayuu. What¡¯s wrong with you?¡± she snaps, pulling him by the ear as his son crawls out from under the bed, sobbing tears of relief. She frowns when she sees both their faces; they must look like they¡¯ve seen the devil. ¡°And what in Sharaji¡¯s good name have the two of you been doing? Trying to catch a sandshark with a sand-beating rod of all things?¡± Ousam sighs and hugs his wife, not saying a single word. His eyes linger on the open door behind her. ¡­ The shadow does not move, but it is still there, standing just beyond the veil of perception. - Scene from Sharaji Oasis Town past
The black mass looming over her shifted and expanded with a sharp hissing noise, like a pipe about to burst. It had no face. It wasn¡¯t human at all. Its six legs were stabbed around her body tied to a flat slab of stone, its teardrop-shaped wings were vibrating at a low frequency, its sword-like stylet was pierced through her stomach and shredding her insides, sucking out her internal organs. In other words, it was just like any normal night in Alshifa; she strained and struggled and screamed against her bindings, but giant needles pinned her joints against the slab and even trying to jerk out of them would cost her too much. There was nothing she could do as she watched, eyes wide in horror, the giant assassin bug devour her alive¨C [Injecting weak dose of adrenaline. Forced user awakening.] The bug disappeared. Disintegrated into sand, taken by the winds blowing in through the window. Her eyes were already open as she gasped with a cold sweat, still lying flat on the soft satin bed; blood and tears rolling down down her cheeks in equal volumes as she realised she¡¯d been scratching her face in her sleep. Now that she had four hands and twenty claws sharp enough to rend stone in half, ¡®scratching¡¯ wasn¡¯t just something she could ignore. Groaning, clutching her stomach, she sat up and wiped her cheeks with the back of her hands as gently as she could. Her original hands may not be fully chitin, but they were hardened and sharpened halfway up her forearms. If she were reckless, she¡¯d cut the rest of her face open just from trying to wipe her tears. Her head hurt. Her waist hurt. Her arms hurt. It felt like half her body didn¡¯t belong to her anymore, like her flesh wasn¡¯t hers, like her muscles wouldn¡¯t always move on her command. Faintly she heard Eria saying something in her, but she was too busy wiping and scratching and groaning with her chin tucked into her chest to pay attention¨C [You¡¯re alright, Dahlia,] Ayla and Aylee said, as she felt two pairs of arms wrapping around her neck from behind. They squeezed, just ever so lightly; her head immediately shot up as the aches subsided. [Just a bit longer. Just a few more weeks, a month at most¡ªwe¡¯re sure your body will get used to the mutations eventually.] [So don¡¯t go all wild and start cutting everything up again,] Amula said, and her eyes snapped over to the side of the door the senior was leaning against. Amula¡¯s arms were crossed, she was leaning against the wall. She was staring at the ground with her eyes closed as she snorted, shrugging nonchalantly. [I¡¯m sure the townsfolk thought you were a bother this morning, wrecking half the bedroom they gave you as a guest. If you destroy this new room again, maybe they¡¯ll just decide to kick you out. I won¡¯t save you if that happens.] Dahlia giggled and winced in the same motion, her throat flaring with pain as she tried to make a sound. She hadn¡¯t noticed it until just now, but she was sorely dehydrated, not to mention starving once more¡ªjudging by the position of the moon and the lightless Oasis Town outside the window, she¡¯d woken up right in the middle of the night, so maybe it was only normal someone who hadn¡¯t eaten for two weeks would have to eat four meals a day to replenish themselves. Or maybe five meals. Maybe six meals. Now that she was thinking about it, she couldn¡¯t remember how many times she¡¯d woken up looking for food and water after Alice had brought her back from their brief expedition outside. Could she be turning into a glutton now? [Nonsense.] Issam laughed, sitting cross-legged next to her. He pointed at the water gourd resting right on the bed stand, just a good half metre away from normal reach. [If you¡¯re thirsty, you drink. If you¡¯re hungry, you eat. If you crave something sweet, then you¡¯ll pop as many bloodberry candies into your mouth as you need until your craving is satisfied. That¡¯s the ¡®Make-Whatever¡¯ I know, right?] [Come on.] [Try.] To demonstrate, he pulled a lever on his back and unfurled his mantis scythes, staring at their serrated edges as he waved them around the air. She wasn¡¯t worried about getting cut even though she was sitting right next to him. If she remember correctly, her dad was the one who made the Swarmsteel for him, and if anyone asked just a few weeks ago she¡¯d say she still had no idea how Issam controlled his extra arms so precisely¡­ but now that she had her own extra arms, organic in nature, she felt as though she understood a little something about the extra appendages most experienced Swarmsteel users possessed. If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. That was, there was nothing to ¡®control¡¯. A normal bug wouldn¡¯t really struggle to control the legs they were born with. A normal human wouldn¡¯t really struggle to walk and swing their arms while they were at it. Now that she had her own extra arms, she understood how ¡®Gut-feeling¡¯ Issam had managed with his mantis scythes all this time¡ªand there really wasn¡¯t anything as complicated as an instruction manual she had to read through. Issam clasped one hand over hers, smiling softly as he beckoned her to try reaching out for the water gourd with an imaginary, phantom limb. It looked stupid, it felt stupid; her brows were creased and her lips were pressed tight as she focused, with all her might, like she was trying to telekinetically pull the water gourd over. Only, her extra left arm was just slightly longer than her normal left arm, and its claws curled around the gourd just fine before bringing it over to her lips. [... Well done,] Eria said, clapping its forelegs while it stood on her shoulder, watching her rehydrate with all four hands on the gourd. [It will still take you some time before you have full control of your new appendages, not to mention controlling their abnormal strength output, but keep at it and you will find yourself more efficient with everything you do with your hands. Conquering your new appendages is the same as conquering the pain from your mutations.] She stopped for a second to catch her breath, breathing softly before resuming her drink. And¡­ I¡¯ll still be able to control it even if you¡¯re not here for me? [Yes. It is a mutation you obtained by consuming insect flesh. The only thing you would stand to lose from my departure is the ability to control your further mutations, as well as, of course, the controlled allocation of free points into your base attributes.] ¡­ Don¡¯t talk like that. Do you¡­ do you want me to get rid of you? Eria tilted its head innocently. [I am merely stating the facts. Your decision, whatever it may be, must be made entirely of your own will.] Then stop saying stuff like that. Like¡­ like everything will be okay even if you¡¯re not¡­ here. [... Understood.] [Would you like to allocate your remaining free attribute points now?] She shook her head, continuing to drink until her throat was no longer dry, sandy, or sore; any one of the three. Eighteen attribute points seemed like a lot to handle, and she wanted to be sound in mind before settling the score. The midnight winds were still quiet, after all, and the Sharaji Oasis Town in a deep slumber. There was no rush. She was still tired. She leaned over to return the water gourd to the bed stand before scratching her neck, hoping she¡¯d be able to sleep the rest of the night away in peace¨C Someone screamed. Outside the window, close to her. She couldn¡¯t ignore it even if she wanted to. It was a bloodcurdling scream that made every hair on her body stand on end. The calm of the Oasis Town washed away immediately as a dozen households shook their firefly lanterns alit, townsfolk breaking out their homes and shouting at each other in loose-fitting silk robes; evidently they¡¯d all heard the scream, too, but none of them were as close to it as she was. It was inexplicable, it was illogical¡ªher extra arms moved first, gripping onto the windowsill and making her vault out the window. [Dahlia, I do not think you should¨C] Bug. She didn¡¯t like to admit it, but she was hungry. Aching for food. And the pungent, revolting, eye-watering scent of a giant bug was making her body move on its own. There was no doubt about it. Someone was being attacked by a giant bug. She ducked into an alley and sprinted. She ran and ran. It¡¯d still only been a day since she woke up, but her putting extra levels into strain limit earlier this afternoon was clearly paying off; she could run, and run, and not feel out of breath for even a single second. She winced when she ran headfirst into a pole and then into stack of crates, hurting her elbows¡ªwithout her Swarmsteel bracers her perceptivity level was low, after all¡ªbut she was sure, even without high perceptivity, that anyone would be able to pinpoint the source of the scream. She was just the first to arrive on scene, turning round a corner into a small alley near the northernmost end of the town. Once she recovered from the bump on her head, she scanned the buildings around her and found the scent trails fading, waning; she couldn¡¯t smell the source as clearly as before. There were no doors on either side of the alley, there were no ladders or stairs to climb out of it, there was only one sharp right turn at the end of it, and while she swore¡ªfor the briefest of seconds¡ªthat she saw what looked like the shadow of a giant man slinking past the corner at the end¡­ Her hunger died the moment she saw the dried, shrivelled corpse of a lady in front of her, its spine snapped in half and its upper torso bent at a complete right angle to its legs. ¡­ She took a step backwards. Tripped on something. Fell on her rear. Closer to eye level with the corpse, she saw the skin once taut and vibrant, now hung limp and pallid; the chest cavity hollowed out, the insides sucked out and leaving nothing but a gaping void; only tattered remnants of silk and sinew clung onto the poor lady¡¯s bones, fluttering faintly in the desert wind like morbid weeds. Desperate claw marks marred the ground beneath the lady¡¯s bloody nails¡ªand Dahlia couldn¡¯t hold it in any longer, realising she might¡¯ve been able to help if she¡¯d reacted just a little bit quicker. By the time Alice and the rest of the townsfolk swarmed the alley on both ends, she was already puking her guts out, the mutilated corpse reminding of the massacre that¡¯d taken place in Alshifa. What¡­ was that shadow? That was a human, wasn¡¯t it? Or could it be¡­ another¡­ She trailed off, not able to finish her thought. Just thinking about the Mutant firefly brought back painful memories. ¡°... Well, I did mention I was sent here to carry out a third duty.¡± Alice stepped up to her before kneeling, just inches away from the poor lady¡ªand the young Harasharana wearing her face was boiling quietly with anger. ¡°The Oasis Town calls it ¡®Madamaron, the Destroyer¡¯, the wind god of the Sharaji Desert, but we of the Hasharana believe bugs are no gods at all,¡± she whispered. ¡°I am to exterminate a Mutant rumoured to have made a nest in this region alone, but as long as you possess an Altered Swarmsteel System, you¡¯ll be helping me rip its head from its torso.¡±
Arc 5, "The Sharaji Oasis Town", End Interlude 8 - Executioner Eight months and eight days. Little Alice has not once lost track of time since she set off from the academy. She remembers every grain of sand she treads upon, the golden outlines of the dunes remain etched in her mind as she walks forward, dutifully, without thought¡ªtoday, like every day before it, was not much of a different day. Today, she draws closer to the city on the edge of the Sharaji Desert. Even through a burning veil of sand, she could make out the circular rings and levels of the great City of Feasts. The top of the Mantis Warlord¡¯s palace was made up of pure white alabaster, colourless and mundane, the brass domes reaching for the sun. It is surrounded by a sea of colourful buildings¡ªthe streets lined with white roses, the walls draped with vines and blooming dahlias¡ªbut little Alice feels nothing as she nears the heavily guarded city gate. A guard sees her approaching from a hundred metres away. He draws his saif, dragging his feet back in the sand, and shouts at her to identify herself. At least, that¡¯s what she thinks he¡¯s trying to say¡ªshe doesn¡¯t understand a lick of the Sharaji tongue¡ªbut she isn¡¯t here to talk with people in the first place. The sands wriggle beneath her. They have been wriggling for a whole two days, incessant, and she has simply been following them on her tiptoes. Without warning, a giant desert beetle bursts from the ground in front of her and crushes the guard shouting at her. The other dozen or so lightly armoured men devolve into a frenzy, struggling to draw their saifs in a timely manner. Half of them are killed, barely a wayward thought from the beetle, and it bashed its head through the heavy steel gate. The wall is breached. Alarm bells are rung. The beetle rushes into the lower slums of the city; little Alice strides in afterwards, heavy bags under her eyes. ¡­ The scents of spilled spice. The taste of burning rust in the air. There are little fields of green in the slums, but the paved sand pathways, the shops with rickety and hand-wrought iron signs, and the screaming crowd in bright layers to stand out in the otherwise monotonous beige market¡ªthis city was bigger and prettier than any she¡¯d been to so far. She supposes she doesn¡¯t want this city to fall. She exhales, letting out a cold, ghostly breath, and beetles are known to hear the whispers of the dead after all. It stops its rampage thirty seconds into the slums and turns, a hulking eight metre monstrosity of a beast that knows no fear, it has never seen fear. The orange desert beetle is a strangely solitary insect. It does not make a nest, it does not particularly yearn for a mate. The malice woven into its fate from its moment of birth is all it knows; she cannot deny she finds herself relating to the unfocused anger in its eyes. ¡°... Blood,¡± she whispers, ¡°to me.¡± Five blood threads fire out her right upper nails, twirling into a shortsword. Five blood threads shoot out her left upper nails, twisting into a greatspear. Ten blood threads sleaze out her left and right lower nails, turning into rigid round shields, and with a weapon in all four hands she takes another step forward. The beetle¡¯s search for nourishment will turn into its search for death. Its antennae fly at her, and she glides past with her shortsword, stopping its attack. Her shortsword moves, severing the left antenna while her greatspear pierces through the right. She follows her instincts, jumping to the side as the beetle screeches and stomps the ground, making the street undulate like a roaring ripple. A moment later, it reared itself and ripped an entire chunk of sandstone from the ground, headbutting it into the building she is sticking on the walls of. She listens, she feels, she tightens her lips; there are people inside the building, so she supposes she cannot move. The sandstone that would¡¯ve annihilated her building slams against her shields, and she flies through the wall, her wrists snapping at an entirely uncomfortable angle. She holds firm even through the gnawing pain. The people inside the building scream as she barely avoids crushing them to death, but one glare at them and they scatter like flies¡ªnow it is just her, and several dozen more people she has the protect, and the beetle tears through the hole in the building looking for her. She smells herself bleeding, and her blood is not turned into threads. Irritate. Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. Irritate. Irritate¨C Ten minutes pass. Her bare feet are swollen masses of weeping cuts and bloody nails. Her weapons were dissolving, her dysfunctional wings turning dark shades of black and red. She must¡¯ve endured hit after hit while defending the people of the slums, because she sees her clothes in tatters and the bracelet the kind old lady gave her in the last town over missing from her wrist. The bracelet was a gift for her saving the townsfolk from a rampaging giant bug; could it be that she lost it while going on a rampaging frenzy herself? She supposes she doesn¡¯t care too much. The giant beetle is eviscerated, torn apart, ripped to shreds beneath her feet, and now she stands in broad daylight above its head while its foul-smelling guts spill out onto the streets. Flicking a strand of hair out of her face, she manages to form a stick with her bloody threads and pokes the beetle. No reaction. She pokes it again, but harder. No reaction again. She sits down, cross-legged, satisfied with her work for the day. Tomorrow, she will find a new giant insect to slaughter. ¡°... You did a sloppy job cutting it to pieces.¡± She lowers her head. She wants to sleep. She¡¯s grown used to sleeping on giant insects while harvester men poke and prod at her prey¡ªsometimes they try to take her as well, but nobody expects getting decapitated by a blood thread¡ªbut for some reason the old man standing below her gives off a completely different impression. A¡­ different impression. ¡°It¡¯s a waste of a good ingredient,¡± the old man says, as he starts cutting up the legs of the giant beetle while she peeks at him, eyes narrow. ¡°Don¡¯t brute force your way through something that can be turned into something delicate. The children of the slums love soft-boiled beetle leg rolls, but if you disturb the natural twisting of the legs by cutting them like you would sever a human limb, the rolls won¡¯t look nice on a patterned plate. Remember: cut along the length of the leg, not through it. You¡¯ll preserve its shape better that way.¡± ¡°...¡± She can kill the old man in a single glance. She is sure of this. He is a weak, feeble croak with one foot in death¡¯s door, and while his kitchen knife is certainly sharp and well-maintained, no plain steel can rival the strength of her blood threads. But she doesn¡¯t feel as though she can ¡®beat¡¯ him. And when he looks up at her, she is more sure of it than anything else in the world. ¡°How about it?¡± he asks. ¡°Want to be an apprentice at my family restaurant?¡± ¡°...¡± ¡°You have a modicum of skill.¡± He severs a full leg from the beetle and grunts, hauling it to his cart parked in a small alley off to the side, and she just now notices nobody else is encroaching on her prey. ¡°I don¡¯t offer just anyone a chance to apprentice with me, but I am getting old and looking for a successor. You may not be it¡ªthe fire in your eyes is too hot for any of my stoves to handle¡ªbut at the very least, you might become proficient at keeping the peace in this part of the city.¡± ¡°...¡± She looks. She stares. What the hell is he even saying to her? Does he think they speak the same tongue? He finally seems to realise she doesn¡¯t understand a lick of what he is saying, so he sighs, sits, and lights a fire with a few twigs from his cart. Two minutes later, he returns with rectangular cuts of beetle meat on a skewer. ¡°Here,¡± he says. ¡°If you come with me, I¡¯ll feed you. Three meals a day. Breaks on the weekend. I can¡¯t pay you much, but maybe in ten years you¡¯ll be able to go to school.¡± She catches the skewer with her lower left arm, and, without thinking or checking for poisons, she tears into the first chunk of meat. ¡°...¡± ¡­ Her stomach growls for more. Her body is never wrong. Without thinking, she slides off the beetle and shuffles over to the old man as he cooks up another batch of skewers in his portable stove cart. She doesn¡¯t really know if she can trust him, but she was never taught to ¡®trust¡¯, anyways. - Scene from City of Feasts past Interlude 9 - Death of the First God The Great Mutant Beetle, Mammot, is the earthquake that never subsides. With every step the bones of weak men rattle and the hearts of strong men waver. The dead beneath its talons bloom to life once more, parasitized into joining the Swarm, human or beast or bug alike. When it rises from the horizon and crosses the Boundless Glacier, light is drained from the sky and the blizzard that follows chills the lands to below zero¡ªand of the Seven Great Mutants, Mammot is only ranked the fourth strongest beneath the Swarm Queen, the Black Witch, and the Devil Maw. Even if it is a lumbering titan so large it cannot speak the tongue of man, Mammot is undoubtedly the god of the Rampaging Hinterland Front; it is the name that strikes fear into where fear cannot be should man wishes to lead an honourable life. Year One, Mammot appeared on the far eastern front, bringing with it a Swarm numbering two hundred million. The Shoreguards were useless. A rampage tore down our flimsy walls, a tide devoured, swallowed our soldiers alive, and just as Mammot was about to step foot on our continent, it turned around and left. The reason was inexplicable. The will of a bug cannot be comprehended. But the wails, the ailing plights, the icy stench of frozen corpses and children screaming in the blustery cold¡ªin the aftermath of Mammot¡¯s first recorded appearance, two hundred thousand were dead and a hundred thousand more marooned in the land of eternal winter, fated to starve and die a lonely, insignificant death. One of the children survived and travelled inland. He had seen Mammot¡¯s striding form up close. He had stood in its shadow, he had braved the rampage of its Swarm. He had survived¡ªand at the age of twelve, a mere two years after Mammot¡¯s appearance and disappearance, fearlessness led him to the position of Pionier in the Rampaging Hinterland Front¡¯s then-standing military. There, he raged for a machine to be constructed, something so vast and gargantuan it can not only stave off an earthquake, but fight it; his ideas were not taken seriously by any of the Pioniers at the time, and he was summarily executed at the age of sixteen for disobeying orders during a Swarm invasion. His crime: consorting with the very bugs he had been ordered to slay to turn himself into a mindless blob of flesh-metal. His successor was another sixteen-year-old who had stood in Mammot¡¯s shadow, and he carried on his precursor¡¯s research. Year Eight. Mammot reappeared over the horizon. It stopped just short of entering the continent once more, but the then-standing military was annihilated, the great steel wall torn down. There were five survivors: the successor of the Mad Pionier and his closest confidants, who had hid themselves in the shell of a giant suit of Swarmsteel armour. Year Ten. Mammot reappeared over the horizon. It sent only its Swarm forward this time, but in two years the successor had rounded up all the anchor towns in the east and rallied a defence. The Swarm broke through, still, and millions perished, but just as many were torn to shreds on the Swarm¡¯s side. Elated, the successor took to mass dismantling the corpses of their slain enemies; he died at the age of twenty from overload strain, from attempting to equip too many Swarmsteel at once. Year Fifteen. The fourth successor created the first ¡®legs¡¯ of the titan. She was assassinated in her sleep by forces from the Mori Masif Front for engaging in dark research. Year Eighteen. The sixth successor created the ¡®wings¡¯ of the titan. He was crushed to death by his own creation in an unfortunate factory incident. Year Twenty-Three. The ninth successor created the ¡®horns¡¯ of the titan. It took him three whole years just to figure out how to attach it to the rest of the chassis, but determined, in the end, that it will not be steel or silver that will join Swarmsteel together; it is the strong spirit of man that will hold their greatest weapon together. This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. From the ninth successor onwards, every last one of his successor¡¯s corpses were fused to the chassis so they could continue serving humanity after death. Year Forty-Four. Mammot reappeared over the horizon. It had been over three decades since its last appearance, and weak men had hoped it had simply died off somewhere beyond the continent, perhaps in a power struggle between other Great Mutants, but that was evidently not the case. It had won the struggle. It had become twice as big, a hundred times more menacing; and the Swarm it had brought with it numbered four hundred million, but a rough estimate. The chaos of that year could not be understated. Year Forty-Four, the twenty-fifth successor was lowered into the core of the chassis. The seams were welded, the bolts were locked in place. Hydraulic pistons the size of buildings hiss and hum as they adjusted the machine¡¯s giant limbs. Platforms and gantries are lowered, a thousand Pioniers race from the wall as the engines begin to roar. Springs groan. Servos plates whine. An avalanche of snow slides off the rough carapace, moonlight eaten by the intricate patterns etched into the steel. Twenty-four fearless men and women before him were bled into the walls of the machine. The twenty-fifth listens to their bellows for revenge, and he closes his eyes¡ªhe does not open them again. The chains are severed. Mammot advances two steps, three steps, quaking the earth. The eternal blizzard fogs the eastern shoreline in cutting winds and veils of snow, but tonight, before it even stepped onto the glacier, Mammot halted in its fourth step. Two thousand metres away, on the other end of the glacier, there is fog. There is fear, there is death. There is darkness. And then there was light, from a hundred diamond spotlights firing forth from the wall, casting a sharp shadowy silhouette of the three-horned titan that stood before it¡ªand Mammot speaks for the first time, its voice carving new ravines across the glacier. ¡°You¡­ are¡­ human?¡± Those were the first and last recorded words of Mammot, the Great Mutant Beetle. It has never spoken since. Year Forty-Four, humanity successfully created a Swarmsteel titan to fight the earthquake¡ªand we call our god, forged from the blood of a million souls, the Wall of the Rampaging Hinterland Front. ¡®Gigantitania¡¯ is its sacred name. And bugs are no longer gods, for there is no longer any man who worships them as such. ¡­ That year, the Rampaging Hinterland Front claimed its first true victory against Mammot, and the Swarm was repelled. We, the Pioniers of De Balla, will hold the front. - Excerpt from ¡®De Balla: Origins¡¯, Chapter One Chapter 38 - Madamaron, The Destroyer The sun dawned on the Sharaji Oasis Town for the first time since Dahlia awakened on the surface, but it was neither a peaceful dawn nor a quiet one. The townsfolk¡¯s common consensus for the poor lady¡¯s time of death was five minutes past midnight, mere moments after the first scream was heard. Dried blood bloomed from her dried husk where her chest had been gouged, where her insides had been sucked out and strewn across the sands. It was hard for anyone to look at her properly, but with Alice and Safi¡¯s help, the townsfolk eventually managed to clean up the small alley in the northernmost end of town¡ªnow, eight hours past midnight, the sun was up and most everyone who¡¯d not caught a wink of sleep throughout the night were sleeping their fears away. There were still people who had to get up and work, of course. Stalls were beginning to open, the circular bazaar was turning into a melting pot of hushed whispers, rumours, and exaggerated naysay. Water riders climbed onto their camels and began making their rounds, spreading the word to every corner of the town, leaving no household unvisited, no elder uninformed. The morning was as rowdy and boisterous as she remembered it yesterday, but with a quiet, teeming tension in the air underpinning it all; men whispered the name ¡®Madamaron, the Destroyer¡¯, and women prayed for the poor lady who¡¯d been taken in the middle of the night. Dahlia might¡¯ve been the centre of attention yesterday, but now she was sitting on the flat sandstone roof adjacent to the alley where she¡¯d first discovered the body, and nobody was coming around to tell her to leave. The death had been all too sudden. ¡°... I¡¯m sure your bed¡¯s more comfortable than this hard floor, with all the sand blowing into your eyes and whatnot,¡± Alice said, climbing onto the roof to sit down next to her; the young Hasharana gave her a mischievous smirk as their legs dangled over the edge. ¡°If it¡¯s too hot for you in your room, you can ask your Altered Swarmsteel System to inject a bit of coolant into your spine. It helps¡­ a little bit. You¡¯ll get used to the heat soon enough¨C¡± ¡°I saw it, Alice,¡± she whispered. ¡°The shadow of a man.¡± Alice pursed her lips¡ªDahlia¡¯s lips, for the Hasharana was still wearing her face. ¡°It was no man,¡± Alice said plainly. ¡°Was it a giant man? Over two metres tall, sprouting extra arms from his back, twin horns curled like a Dynastinae beetle?¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t see it clearly¨C¡± ¡°Here. Breakfast. It¡¯s pita bread served with a dip of creamy toum and ground cicada flakes.¡± The slab of puffy bread Alice pulled out from her billowing red cloak was nothing short of cheesy, and the instant Dahlia had one shoved into her hands, Alice reached into her cloak and pulled out a small corked bottle. The smooth white sauce inside the bottle smelled even cheesier. Alice popped the cork and turned it upside down, slathering a generous amount of the sauce onto her bread before holding it out for Dahlia to do the same¡ªand despite the suspicious second ingredient, Dahlia couldn¡¯t really afford to refuse it right now. Her stomach was still in knots, and she was hungry. ¡°... Uncle Safi made this,¡± Alice mumbled between bites, more focused on eating than she was at talking. ¡°I¡¯ve been travelling with him for about a decade, and since I took the exam to become a Hasharana about¡­ uh, a few years ago, I receive about five or six job requests a year from my boss, the Worm God of the Genesis Glade Front. I¡¯ve already told you this, right?¡± Dahlia nodded slowly as she dipped a little toum onto her bread, not wanting to go too overboard with it in case she didn¡¯t like it. ¡°Yesterday in your uncle¡¯s tavern. And you told me you came to the Sharaji Oasis Town to carry out three duties: the first is to track down the cocoons, the second is to find the source of the ¡®system disruption¡¯, that being me¨C¡± ¡°And the last is to investigate and exterminate ¡®Madamaron, the Destroyer¡¯ of the Sharaji Desert,¡± Alice finished, pointing out at the edge of the town while taking an especially large chomp of her bread. ¡°Look there. Look at the houses on the outermost edge of the town. What do you¡­ what do you not see?¡± Dahlia frowned at the unusual question. She followed the Hasharana¡¯s finger and looked, but past the alley, past the northernmost edge of the town, there was nothing but an endless sea of golden sand¡ªthe houses bordering the edge were just normal houses, were they not? So she looked closer. And listened harder. And soon she realised there was something off about them compared to the houses in the rest of the town. ¡°They¡¯re¡­ quiet,¡± she whispered. ¡°That¡¯s because people started disappearing around two weeks ago, when the cocoons were first reported to have fallen into the Sharaji Desert,¡± Alice said, clicking her tongue. ¡°It began with a Miss Unam living in that house furthest away from the oasis, an old lady without family to watch over her in the middle of the night. The chief tells me the guards patrolling the town at night didn¡¯t see anyone leaving through any front door, but when people noticed she was missing the next day, they barged into her house and found nobody. Six hours later, her dried husk was all we found out in the desert when we organised a search party to look for her.¡± ¡°...¡± ¡°A week ago, the same thing happened to a Mister Leban living in the house next door. The guards were extra alert. They claimed nobody left anywhere at night, but when he was reported missing the next morning, we found him a few hours later as a dried husk. Out by the oasis this time,¡± she continued. ¡°And, just last night, you saw the third victim, a Miss Reshi¡ªboth of them lived right next to Miss Unam as well. You wanna know what¡¯s the strangest thing about this chain of deaths, though?¡± Dahlia felt it was a rhetorical question, so she didn¡¯t answer and bit down on her bread instead, the creamy and flaky sauce making her tongue melt in her mouth. Alice sighed and finished her bread, swallowing a huge gulp as she leaned backwards. ¡°If it weren¡¯t for previous Hasharana coming across this town and realising exactly three people die strange deaths every year, the townsfolks most likely wouldn¡¯t have reported the deaths to any bug-slaying organisation by themselves.¡± Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. ¡°Why?¡± Dahlia asked in a muffled voice; she struggled to chew more than what was already in her mouth. ¡°If people have been dying mysteriously for¡­ years¡­ then why not ask for help?¡± ¡°Because the people here are mystics,¡± Alice replied, shrugging slightly. ¡°They believe in fate and¡­ spirits and demons and djinns and the like. Sandstorms are attributed to the work of a hungry sand spirit, and poor rainfall is attributed to the jealousy of the oasis reed god. When it comes to the three mysterious deaths, they believe it is the work of the ¡®Destroyer¡¯¡ªa wind spirit who, across three weekend nights every same month of every year, would whisk three people away before flinging them back into the town as dried husks. By letting Madamaron do as it pleases, the townsfolk claim they receive less frequent sandstorms throughout the rest of the year, and thus the Oasis Town isn¡¯t buried in the sand.¡± The soft bleats of camels came trodding up behind them, as well as the sounds of the rest of the town coming alive in the morning. For a few more moments Dahlia didn¡¯t say anything¡ªthe bread in her hands was delicious despite the cicada flakes, after all. ¡°... That¡¯s not true, is it?¡± she eventually said in a low, quiet voice. ¡°People are allowed to die in this town because¡­ apparently, sandstorms are weaker when they do?¡± Alice licked her fingers, cleaning up the leftover sauce. ¡°Oh, but that part¡¯s true, though. I¡¯ve been here for three weeks, and the sandstorms do seem to get a lot less frequent for a few days after someone dies.¡± ¡°Then, you mean the wind spirit¨C¡± ¡°Lots of small towns and villages attribute natural disasters to gods and spirits, but we are Hasharana.¡± Alice flicked her forehead with an invisible thread, making her wince and reel back as the young bug hunter laughed. ¡°We travel the continent and slay bugs with strange abilities and mutations mystics will easily call ¡®gods¡¯. Does that mean they are gods? Nonsense. They don¡¯t exist. The Sharaji Desert isn¡¯t the first place I¡¯ve visited that claims something is the work of a god when, really, it¡¯s just another Mutant pretending to be a god¡ªso aren¡¯t I just glad that you already have some experience with Mutants!¡± Like ripples of water spreading in a still pond, the cold, tingling feeling that¡¯d been stinging her nape jolted down the rest of her spine. A gnawing fear filled her chest and she looked away; Alice continued watching her with curiosity and fascination. ¡°I mean, you already have a system, and you were the one who took down that Mutant firefly in your undertown, right?¡± Alice chirped, her lips¡ªDahlia¡¯s own lips¡ªtwisting into a smile that seemed wholly unnatural on her face. ¡°You¡¯ll be of great help to me. I was worried I had to face it alone in unfamiliar territory, so having a child of the desert on my side makes my job much easier. Much, muchhhh easier.¡± ¡°... Can¡¯t you hunt the Mutant yourself?¡± Dahlia whispered, her breaths hitching, her heart pounding in her ears, her claws fidgeting and scraping against sandstone; it was like lightning was crackling down her spine and she couldn¡¯t do anything to rip it out of her body, to stop it from electrifying her muscles. ¡°I don¡¯t really¡­ I¡¯m not¡­ I¡¯m not that strong. I don¡¯t think I can help much in a fight if you''re the only one who''s professionally trained¨C¡± ¡°The townsfolk here, you see, don¡¯t seem to trust me much,¡± Alice interrupted, waving her hand casually. ¡°I don¡¯t know why. Maybe it¡¯s because they know I¡¯m a Hasharana trying to disrupt the natural state of things, but who cares about that¡ªthey might be wary of you now, but I bet they¡¯ll open up to you sooner or later as a child of the desert, and when they do, ask them about Madamaron. They don¡¯t tell me much about the ¡®wind spirit¡¯ that¡¯s apparently been plaguing them for a decade. If I just have more information on the pattern of its appearances, how it lures people out of their homes, and how it turns them into dried husks, I can take it out alone. You wouldn¡¯t even have to fight.¡± ¡°Even still¡­ I don¡¯t think¡­ I¨C¡± ¡°You killed the Mutant firefly, didn¡¯t you?¡± Alice stared at her quite expectedly, and Dahlia couldn¡¯t answer the question readily. After all, was she the one who¡¯d killed the firefly? Or was it everyone else who gave their lives for her? [... But you did kill the firefly, though?] Issam said, two hands resting on her shoulder from behind. [We all contributed, sure, but nobody can claim to have plunged their hands into the firefly¡¯s chest. That was you. Nobody even got close to reaching the heights that you did.] [Speak for yourself,] Raya muttered, somewhere a little bit off to Issam¡¯s side. [If the girl doesn¡¯t want the credit, I¡¯ll take it. It¡¯s only natural that the ¡®Godsent Talent¡¯ was the one who took down the Mutant¨C] She heard a loud whack. A loud groan of pain. While Amula and Jerie scuffled with Raya and kicked up a small cloud of sand, Ayla and Aylee each placed a hand on her head, rubbing her hair softly. Dahlia leaned into their rubbing, squeezing her eyes shut and clenching her jaw as she did. [You killed the firefly, Dahlia,] Aylee whispered. [Have a bit more confidence in yourself, yeah?] Ayla continued. [So help Alice out however you can,] Issam finished, his voice so close to her ear that she shivered and gulped in one; she could only hope her cheeks weren¡¯t flushed beet red. [If not for us, then¡­ for the people of the Sharaji Oasis Town. They¡¯re dealing with a bug problem. Didn¡¯t we wish back then that someone outside Alshifa would come in and solve all our problems for us? [Even if Alice is that ¡®someone¡¯, why not be that second someone for the Oasis Town?] ¡­ So Dahlia sucked in a slow, heavy breath with her mouth¡ªher throat itching a little as she drew in coarse grains of sand in the process¡ªbefore exhaling with her eyes opening slowly. Her heart was still pounding in her ears, but her stomach was no longer tied in knots; the pita bread she¡¯d been given for breakfast was surprisingly filling. ¡­ Okay. If that¡¯s what you guys want, then I¡­ I¡¯ll do it. ¡°I¡¯ll cooperate,¡± she whispered, much to Alice¡¯s visible delight; the Hasharana clapped and reached into her cloak for another slab of bread. She held up a hand and refused the second offering. ¡°I¡­ as I said, I don¡¯t think I¡¯ll be much of any help in a fight, but¡­ if it¡¯s just general information gathering and trying to help you figure out what species of insect the Mutant might be, I think I can be a little bit useful. Is that alright with you?¡± Alice smiled like it was the sun. ¡°Of course! But I don¡¯t really have anything planned for the moment, so feel free to just kick back and rest for a little while longer. I¡¯ll come by for you when I need you.¡± ¡°And¡­ what will you be doing until then?¡± she asked slowly, looking down at the cleaned alley with her lips thinned into a line. ¡°If Madamaron really, really only kills three people a year, then that means nobody should be murdered for the rest of the year¡­ but that doesn¡¯t mean we can relax and spend an entire year looking for it, right?¡± ¡°That¡¯s right. Preferably, we kill it as soon as possible,¡± Alice said. ¡°So I have a plan.¡± Chapter 39 - Risha Ball ... Asanyon continent, humanity¡¯s final bastion against the Swarm. The Seven Swarmsteel Fronts guarding the borders need no introduction¡ªno aspiring Spore Knight can be ignorant of humanity¡¯s strongest and toughest warriors¡ªbut across the continent, there are several hundred smaller fronts that would do best with intervention from the Hasharana. One of these fronts lie in the southeastern end of the continent, an old desert front the sixty-fifth generation ¡®Gigantitania¡¯ of the Rampaging Hinterland Front conquered, but rumours have it the giant insect threat is not completely quelled, and that a Mutant lays aslumber still. It only makes sense, of course. You cannot squash every bug, burn every last one of them out of their hiding holes; still we are very much aware that the Sharaji Desert is a front we must pay close attention to lest it were to become an active warzone again. Thankfully, the Worm God already seems to be on the case. I heard he has sent a Hasharana there to poke and prod at the sands. I am not sure what he is thinking, sending only a single Hasharana there without any backup or nearby reinforcements to call upon. But the Worm God has his own ways, and he has explicitly requested us, of the Spore Knights, to remain in the Attini Empire Front. Hence, the order is given, on the Sixth Day of Month Bug, Year 100¡ªI, the Empress of the Attini Empire, will oblige his whims. I pray that lone Hasharana finds success in her hunt for Madamaron. - Excerpt from ¡®Whispers of the Wild Growth¡¯, Scripture One Hundred
Three days since Madamaron last attacked. There¡¯d been no deaths since then. While the townsfolk of the Sharaji Oasis Town were still obviously wary of Dahlia¡ªshe and Alice were the only ones with four arms, after all¡ªthey seemed to have grown somewhat used to her walking around looking for chores to help out with. Rest was one thing, but sitting still or lying flat on her bed for several days straight wasn¡¯t her thing; she¡¯d never done the same even when she was sick or feeling down back in Alshifa. Her hands had to move, her fingers had to be holding onto something, else she¡¯d be nothing more than a doll people had to excessively dote over. And she was a guest here. All the more reason to make herself useful if she could at least walk. In the three days that¡¯d followed since Alice told her about Madamaron, she¡¯d mostly been relegated to take on whatever chore an outsider was allowed to handle: washing clothes and brushing sand off carpets and windowsills after dark, mainly. The water riders didn¡¯t trust her enough to teach her how to ride a camel yet. The potters and the weavers and the embroiderers still evidently found her black arms unsettling to be around. She didn¡¯t mind the simple chores; she rather liked working all alone after everyone had already retreated to their households for the night, because it meant she could explore around town without anyone finding her movements suspicious. The surface world¡¯s more ingrained with insect parts than I thought. That was her main takeaway after three nights of working tedious chores. The brooms she¡¯d been given for cleaning were crushed and flattened strips of stick bug chitin rolled into cylinders for textured grips. The bins around the town were coated with sandstone on the outside, but if she were to pull their lids open and peered inside, plugging her nose as she did, she¡¯d find a mesh of foul-smelling termite midguts stuck to the walls of the bin. The midguts periodically secrete bacterial liquid that automatically breaks down whatever is thrown in after a day or two, which was why she¡¯d never had to trouble herself looking for a trash disposal site to empty the bins. Even the brushes she¡¯d been handed to scrub off stains from the townsfolk¡¯s clothes were made from the bristles of giant locusts¡ªnot the softest of bristles to use for light-fabric clothes, but they were efficient at getting stains off regardless. Everywhere she could turn to look, there¡¯d be something inconspicuously human and insect-made. There was no clear distinction between what was Swarmsteel and what wasn¡¯t; she felt, with just a touch of modification, most of the common household items could be turned into F or E-ranked Swarmsteel anyone could equip to some degree of power. They¡¯re all unmaintained, though. Where¡¯s the Maker who made them? Tonight was her third night cleaning and tidying the town up after everyone else had retired for the night. Tonight, as usual, she finished brushing off the eastern section of the circular bazaar street and was allowing herself some free time to look curiously around¡ªbecause despite everything being half-insect-made, the town was in a rather poor state of disrepair. It didn¡¯t look like this in the sun; the sandstone buildings would shine with reflected golden glows as the emerald oasis shimmered in the sunlight, boisterous bartering and haggling filling the air, men and women filling the streets, people drawing water and crafting their wares out in the alleys and praying on the doorstep of their houses. In the sun, it was a brighter and more brilliant town than Alshifa ever was despite only being a third of its size¡­ but at night, it was the same gloomy sight. Moonlight alone wasn¡¯t enough to illuminate the town. Without people walking the streets and candlelights burning in every household, she couldn¡¯t help but think that the Oasis Town was just like Alshifa¡ªthe heavy, brooding silence in the night was because humanity knew they couldn¡¯t be too loud, lest the Swarm would hear and descend upon them with the might of a million bugs. It¡¯s no different down there or up here. At night, the Swarm rules. Walking around with her broom in her hands, she studied the faded splashes and sprays of scarlet on the walls, the sandstone houses replaced section by section over the years and decades. The main street may be paved and the edges lined with quivertail butterfly webbings to make it seem pretty, but it was uneven in some places because there were mountains of bones buried beneath the sand; she couldn¡¯t fathom how many times the town must¡¯ve been attacked and how many people the townsfolk had had to bury to make their streets as robust as they were. Near the edges of the town, the damages were more obvious. The storage sheds were worn and chipped away by the winds, while rats and vermin had devoured discarded lumps of fabric that could¡¯ve been remade into something useful. Outside the borders of the town, it was even clearer the town had once been several times its current size: piles of mechanical and sandstone parts were half-sunken and sticking out of the desert, immobile in the sand. If there was still a Maker in this town, they¡¯d either already left, died, or given up on returning this town to its glory days¡ªif there¡¯d ever been any in the first place. ¡­ Hm? Right as she was about to turn a corner into the southern section of the town, her ears perked and her body unconsciously moved behind a stack of crates for cover as she heard a voice¡ªseveral voices, in fact, chuckling and laughing and singing carefree into the night. It was strange indeed; the hour was past midnight and most people usually retired several hours before that. Who could be out here at this time of night? Could they be in danger? [I do not think so,] Eria said plainly, casually. [Via my voice-recognition capabilities, they are merely¨C] She didn¡¯t wait for Eria to finish her sentence. She spun out from around the corner, teeth chattering, assassin bug claws sharpened and still just as shaky¡ªif anybody was in danger, she had to fight to protect them¡ªbut all she was met with instead were six children gathered round in a back alley, playing ball with a dozen more children seated on the edge of the roofs around them. Alice was there, too, laughing and sending all the kids half her height twisted smirks as she bullied them in the game of ball. Dahlia frowned, crossing her arms as she stayed back and watched the game unfold. The kids had strewn a straw-woven net across the alley at double their height to separate the two teams of three; Alice led the team on the other side facing her, and as far as she could tell, the rules seemed pretty simple. Each player could only hit the ball once with each wrist before the team had to knock the ball over the net, at which point the other team would have to return the ball or let it touch the ground. The ball touching the ground meant defeat¡ªand Dahlia could very easily see the game as something Instructor Biem would¡¯ve made the students of the Bug-Hunting School play to train their hand-eye coordination. ¡°... I win!¡± Alice laughed, slapping the top of her tiny teammates¡¯ heads as her team won for the umpteenth time; frankly, there was no real competition to be had when she was twice as tall as everyone else. None of the children here were more than ten years old. In response, the children flew into an uproar over what was fair and what wasn¡¯t. The losing girls cried and begged for a rematch, but the two boys on Alice¡¯s team clung to her cloak and shook their heads vehemently, sticking their tongues out to jeer at the losers. The dozen or so children sitting on the roofs clamoured for a rematch, two girls jumping down to switch places with the losers¡ªand that was when Alice spotted Dahlia hiding in the back, her eyes lighting up in excitement. Ah. I still have chores to do, so I¡¯ll¨C ¡°Oh! My friend over there will play against me and the boys, okay?¡± Alice shouted, making hand gestures to communicate with the two new challengers as she yanked Dahlia back with invisible threads; Dahlia barely had time to slink away before she was suddenly surrounded by half a dozen girls, all staring strangely up at her. ¡°She¡¯s like me, you know? Four arms means four wrists, which means she can hit the ball four times! Four! Times!¡± This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. Alice punctuated the last two words with one finger raised on each of her hands, and the girls, while reluctant at first, seemed to understand Dahlia¡¯s value perfectly now¡ªthey pushed and shuffled Dahlia around on their side of the court while Alice beamed at her with her hands on her hips, all of them trying to decide who¡¯d be the new arrival¡¯s teammates. Dahlia, on the other hand, didn¡¯t bother hiding the displeasure on her face as she scowled back at Alice. You said you had a plan to investigate Madamaron, she thought, curling her lips. And you¡¯re out here in the middle of the night playing ball with kids? Alice shot her a smirk that, to her, meant something like ¡®I am working¡¯. How are you investigating anything? What¡¯s your plan, anyways¨C One of the girls poked her waist to grab her attention, and her entire body jolted like lightning ran up her spine¡ªshe¡¯d not been expecting such a hard poke. The girls giggled at her reaction as she rubbed her back, painfully sore after several hours of tedious chores, but then all but two of the girls climbed back onto the roofs to clear the court; the two who were left were the tallest and strongest-looking of the bunch. Still not as tall as she was, but they at least looked to be twelve, thirteen of age; her breaths hitched as she felt she saw a hint of her Alshifa bug-hunting juniors in their eyes, yearning for victory. [... Just entertain them for a bit,] Issam muttered behind her ear. [You need to relax by moving your body around every once in a while, after all,] ¡­ ¡­ So when the girls fidgeted with their hands nervously, obviously not knowing where to put them around hers, she patted both their heads and smiled as confidently as she could. I guess I can play if it¡¯s just for a while. She felt she already understood the rules of the game, so she dropped her broom and took centre position while Alice raised eleven fingers on the other side of the court. They were playing to eleven points, she supposed. Not too long. With her enhanced strength and speed, she could probably put up a good enough fight¨C Alice served the reed-woven ball and it shot past her head, slamming into the ground before bouncing off with a puff of sand. One point for the boys. ¡­ Be more delicate, will you? Knitting her brows, she pried her eyelids wide open and lowered her body, getting into a game-ready stance. The spectators on the roofs were cheering and shouting as quietly as they could, most likely afraid of waking their parents, and when Alice caught a new ball that a spectator threw at her, Dahlia tried tensing the muscles in her arms¨C Second serve. A gust of wind. A puff of sand. The two girls next to her coughed and hacked as she failed to even catch the trail of the ball whizzing past her head. The boys on the roof laughed and heckled them while the girls shouted back, mouthing off a hundred words a second in their drawling desert tongue; Alice laughed and cracked her shoulders, a mischievous glint shining in her eyes as she regarded Dahlia with a look that seemed to say ¡®is that all you have¡¯? ¡­ It wasn¡¯t. Eria. How many unallocated points do I have? [Forty-eight.] Level up my speed as much as you can, and evenly distribute all the leftover points in strength and perceptivity. [Speed: 1 ¡ú 5] [Strength: 1 ¡ú 3] [Perceptivity: 3 ¡ú 4] [Unallocated Points: 48 ¡ú 4] Alice caught the third ball from the spectators and served immediately with a downwards wrist smash, but having the reaction speed equivalent to five men meant Dahlia moved nimbly despite her aches and injuries; her cloak fluttered after her as she jerked to the left, catching the ball with her left wrist and making it soar backwards. The girl behind her right slapped it left with a shout, the girl behind her left slapped it right with a laugh, and now the ball was falling back on her. She tightened the muscles in her arms, head craned up as she focused hard on the ball. I can still hit it thrice. Easier said than done, she quickly learned. She bounced the ball up once with her right wrist, but when she tried to move her second left arm to bounce the ball again, she accidentally used her normal left arm instead¡ªan instant foul from the spectator boys who were watching her every move like vultures preying on a dying beast. The smug goading from Alice¡¯s team as she high-fived her boys made the girls behind Dahlia grind their teeth in irritation; the girls had surely put all their hopes into Dahlia since she had four arms as well, and right now, she was not living up to expectations. ¡­ Again. Fourth ball. She solidified her stance, each muscle coiled and ready. Alice served the ball over to the girls gently, and when both of them bounced it to Dahlia for the attacking return, she jumped. High. The ball was four metres off the ground, but she had the strength equivalent of three men to match; she focused all of it into her second left arm, slamming her wrist so hard into the ball she might as well have been throwing a javelin at a giant bug. But the ball, woven from simple reed as it was, exploded mid-air and rained down upon Alice¡¯s side of the court as a scattering of fluffy leaves. She landed on her heels, eyes twitching as the boys called foul again. Obviously, destroying the ball they were using to play the game with would lead to a straight defeat. [What a troublesome game for you,] Eria mused, perched atop her shoulder as Alice thanked a boy for tossing them a new ball. [You have the same amount of arms to match Alice in terms of how many feints and bounces she can do, but your lack of control of said arms and your newfound strength makes it so you are at an utter disadvantage here.] So? She gritted her teeth, waving at her girls to back off a little, putting some distance between them and Alice standing right in front of the net. What are my chances of victory? [One percent.] One percent? [... Less than.] Fifth ball. Sixth ball. Seventh ball. At this point even the children knew better than to stay on the court; their game had been hijacked by the two outsiders with four arms and strange insect traits. The boys dashed off Alice¡¯s side of the court while the girls ducked off Dahlia¡¯s side, not wanting to get caught between a barrage of powerful inhuman smashes¡ªmost of them coming from Dahlia, really. She had four arms, which meant she could bounce the ball at least three times to get a ¡®rhythm¡¯ going before returning it to Alice, but again it was easier said than done. It was already difficult enough picking up a water gourd three nights ago with her extra arm. Having to essentially juggle a small ball in rapid succession meant she couldn¡¯t even keep the ball bouncing half the time, the next three points lost to her simply letting the ball hit the ground because of her inability to juggle. Whether it was because she found Dahlia pitiful or she found the whole situation laughable, Alice paused and shouted over the net before serving the eighth ball. ¡°Curl your normal arms behind your back, and focus only on your second pair of arms,¡± Alice said, winking at her. ¡°If you can¡¯t control all four at the same time, there¡¯s no shame in controlling only what you¡¯re already used to.¡± ¡­ ¡­ Dahlia decided to take her advice. Eighth ball, ninth ball, tenth ball. The difference was immediately obvious. If she curled her normal arms behind her back and imagined her extra arms as her normal arms instead, she found she could basically move them around as substitutes¡ªan eye-opening revelation she¡¯d never have figured out on her own. Eria hummed in satisfaction as she managed to catch the subsequent balls with her extra arms, moving them as swiftly and naturally as she would her normal arms, but the points were still lost the moment she tried smashing the balls back over. No matter how much she tried to restrain herself, her additional levels in strength were annihilating the balls the moment her wrists came in contact with them. The eleventh ball was the humiliating final blow. In her attempt to move and swing her second left arm in slow motion, she lost total control of her arm and smacked herself in the face. She stumbled a few steps, wiping blood from her nose, but before she knew it she¡¯d fallen backwards onto cold midnight sand. The ball thudded at the same time her head bounced off the ground; then the game was over, and the whooping and celebrating from the boy¡¯s side of the court had her covering her own face in shame. [Not to worry, Dahlia,] Eria said, patting her nose in a consolitary manner. [This is your first time increasing your base attribute levels via points you gained from consuming insect flesh. You will get used to your increase in strength sooner or later.] While making a fool of myself in the process. [Are you really making a fool of yourself if the people around you are having fun watching you do so?] Her four arms were on her forehead, so she could still see the girls on her side of the court crying with laughter, kneeling over her, shaking her body left and right as though they were mourning someone who¡¯d passed away¡ªeven the two girls she¡¯d been partnered with and later forced off the court were giggling, poking her broken nose lightly. ¡­ Was it that funny watching me smack myself in the face? Eria didn¡¯t miss a beat. [I am sure when you were but a young student in the Bug-Hunting School, you were just as easy to amuse in team training sessions.] [You really were easy to make laugh,] Issam added, whispering in her left ear. [All I had to do was hit the ball in Raya¡¯s face and you¡¯d snicker like mad.] [But now you¡¯re the one getting smacked in the face, girl,] Raya muttered in her right ear, a fading, ghostly voice. [How humiliating. I would never get hit by that ¡®Alice¡¯ if I were you. Let me take over your body, and I¡¯ll show her Alshifa¡¯s pride¨C] [Get outta here, both of you,] Amula snapped, and her voice was even farther back, dragging the other two away with her. [Just let Dahlia do her own thing. She¡¯ll be fine.] ¡­ Dahlia let her face relax a little as the girls dragged her off the court and Alice shouted for the next challengers to stand up straight. She still couldn¡¯t see how playing ball with the kids of the Sharaji Oasis Town in the middle of the night was helping with the investigation into Madamaron, but, at the very least, it was fun. And good for training her control over her new abilities. Maybe she¡¯d come by every once in a while and join in for her own sake. Chapter 40 - Settlement Eleven days. One week since Madamaron last attacked. There¡¯d been no deaths since then. Dahlia¡¯s second week in the Sharaji Oasis Town began as usual with the ring of the morning bell; camels bleated outside, the elders threw the window flaps open, the shopkeepers and stallowners trudged out their sandstone houses to set up their wares by the bazaar, yawning and greeting each other with their hands interlocked in prayers. The quiet hubbub would soon grow into the familiar hustle and bustle, but Dahlia¡¯s guest room was right above a store, which meant she didn¡¯t really need the bell or the sounds of the bazaar to wake up¡ªGrandma Ramaba, the town¡¯s general amenities vendor, rapped the floor from underneath with a long broom, making her bed shake her awake. Being curt with her appearance¡ªonly washing her short curly hair and dousing her face with cold water by the windowsill¡ªshe quickly threw on her mantle, vaulted out the window, and landed right in front of Grandma Ramaba¡¯s open front door. Sand and soft winds blew into her face, so she pulled her scarf up to cover her mouth and nose as the old lady tossed out her breakfast: two simple butter bread loafs with some sort of insect flesh filling, sent to her every morning by Alice and Uncle Safi. She ravished and devoured only one loaf as she waved the old lady goodbye, turning to sprint to her first job in town. [Unallocated Points: 76 ¡ú 83] The early morning sun cast long shadows across the town. Merchants sitting on thick fluffy carpets marked their shops with bright colours to stand out in the bazaar. Still chewing, still struggling at times to eat under the small gap in her scarf, her run to her job took her down paths littered with all manner of stalls. She waved and prayed her good mornings to most everyone she passed by, and most everyone returned their greetings, or held out goods for her to buy and inspect; she eyed bronze bowls, wooden board games, and then she skidded to a halt when she spotted Weaver Arshad spreading out an array of new weed-woven rags on the floor before his humble stall¡ªshe stared at the rags for a good minute before reaching into her mantle for her coin pouch. Weaver Arshad, the turbaned dark-skinned man, shook his head and raised three fingers when she plucked out two bronze Khan coins. She knelt to his level, pointed at the dahlia-patterned rag on the far left of his carpet, and held up two fingers. The man pursed his lips and didn¡¯t relent, shaking his head vehemently. She then rose and pretended to be disinterested, turning away to leave; that got him to click his tongue and snap at her to come back, pinching the rag between his thumb, pinky, and ring finger. Two fingers raised, brows knitted in annoyance. She beamed at him and tossed him two coins, clutching her new rag close to her chest as she kept on running. Grandma Ramaba¡¯s washing rag isn¡¯t looking so good anymore, and I¡¯m not good at sewing. Maybe she¡¯ll like this pattern for a new rag? [She¡¯ll definitely like it,] Ayla agreed. [Maybe you should get two,] Aylee added. [But you don¡¯t have the money to spare for two. How sad.] Some of the townsfolk still gave her strange and wary looks as she ran past, but by now most had gotten used to her black arms and paid her little mind; they knew she wasn¡¯t out of control. They knew she was helpful, as she ran into the large sandstone hut that was the oasis farmers¡¯ storage house¡ªthe ¡®Mushariff¡¯ Idan, the overseer of all farmers who handled crop harvesting by the oasis, greeted her with a prayer, took her remaining loaf of bread, and then sent her back out with four buckets. The old hunchbacked man had approached her with a job offer after noticing her clean throughout the night on her fourth day here, and while it wasn¡¯t a particularly difficult job, it was honest, rewarding work. More entertaining than menial cleaning, at least. As she sprinted out towards the giant oasis in the centre of town, the other two dozen or so farmers were already wading knee deep in the water, their shoes neatly arranged on shore so as not to incur the wrath of Dhurana, the oasis spirit. Several of them were already sweating and returning water to the oasis, but everyone greeted her with tender smiles as she kicked off her shoes, flung the end of her mantle over her shoulders, and waded quickly into the water as well. The underwater reeds that grow in the shallow portions of the oasis were incredibly rich in nutrients, and the leaves themselves were tough enough to be used for weaving and sewing; their job was to pull the mature reeds and fill up their buckets as much as they could every single day, because Dhurana was a mystical spirit who could make reeds grow and mature endlessly within a week at most. Of course, Alice had told her that it was mostly likely just the carcasses of a thousand giant insects buried deep beneath the oasis that were making the reeds grow at a downright magical rate¡ªbut Dahlia wasn¡¯t about to tell the farmers that. The morning hours passed. They spent their time knee-deep in refreshing water, backs hunched over, sunlight burning blisters onto their skin. The dark-skinned farmers were all already used to it, but Dahlia was still prone to getting hot and sticky and tired easily. While she had four hands to pluck reeds at twice the usual speed, it also meant she exhausted twice as fast; the rowdy Braif brothers laughed at her as she panted for breath, having filled up only two buckets of soggy reeds within three hours of work. So she merely shot back at them a weak smile, deep breathing for four seconds, heavy exhaling for four seconds. Eria. Level my toughness to four and put twenty-five points into strain limit. [Understood.] [Toughness: 3 ¡ú 4] [StrainLimit: 1012 ¡ú 1037] [Unallocated Points: 83 ¡ú 49] Two more hours passed. Noon arrived, and so did the scorching midday sun that forced every farmer out of the oasis and running for shelter back in the storage house. Nobody worked after morning and before four in the afternoon¡ªit was just too hot for any normal human to bear¡ªso now it was the rest of the older farmers¡¯ turn to laugh as the Braif brothers stuck their hands in their pockets, scowling, faces flushing red with heat and embarrassment. Dahlia was the only one still plucking reeds and filling her buckets, after all; she was four times as tough as the average man, and she was the only one who could work well into the noon without letting the heat break her spirit. This much¡­ is nothing. Being too cold in Alshifa because firefly light is dimming is much worse. [That much is nothing as well,] Raya grumbled, and the sound of shoulders popping rang in her eardrums. [Let me take over your body for a little while. I¡¯ll get all the reeds plucked in¨C] [Please just get outta here and let her do her thing,] Amula groaned, and then the sounds of squabbling came from behind her. [Just ignore this bitch, Dahlia. You¡¯re doing fine. Show the Braif brothers how diligent our ¡®Make-Whatever¡¯ is.] The farmers each had to fill up four buckets a day. Today, she finished filling hers up by one in the afternoon. Trudging back to the storage house with a bucket in each hand, Mushariff Idan laughed and patted her on the back, snapping at the resting Braif brothers to work as hard as she could. The two brothers dropped their trays of rice and rushed back out, and the rest of the farmers chuckled as they each took turns rubbing her head, thanking her for her diligence. Mushariff Idan offered her the same farmer¡¯s lunch as everyone else had already finished¡ªrice and beans and small rolling chunks of glazed meat¡ªbut she declined it as usual with a small shake of her head, holding up the second loaf of bread Grandma Ramaba had tossed her. Mushariff Idan smiled and dipped his head as he sent her off to her second job with a small pouch of coins, her daily wage of twelve bronze coins. She double checked the amount only briefly as she ran while munching down on her larger loaf of bread mostly focused on squinting up at the sun to check the time. She wasn¡¯t late, was she? [Unallocated Points: 49 ¡ú 65] Passing through the bazaar, greeting most everyone she ran by, she eventually arrived at the one and only forge in the northeastern end of town. It was a rather small and modest sandstone building compared to the usual three-storey houses, but lots of people were already queuing up outside, crowded along the stairs and streets and even into the smaller alleys around the forge. She tucked her extra arms in and squeezed past them, apologising whenever she bumped into someone, and somehow managed to enter the sweltering hot building. The rough sandstone walls were brightly illuminated by the orange glow of the furnace, there were no windows to let wind or sand blow in. An array of metalworking tools hung from the tall ceiling: hammers of various sizes, tongs, and flame pokers all bearing the marks of the trade with nicks and scorch marks. The wooden hatch in the corner leading down into the cellar was locked as always, foul-smelling as always. A burly young man handled one of the two anvils at the back of the forge, hammering a kettle into shape with his dark face glistening with sweat¡ªand the moment he glanced up and saw her squeezing in, he immediately barked at her to stop staring at the hatch and get to work. Grumpy as always. Handling the second anvil and taking on forging requests wasn¡¯t her job, of course. Smith Jaleel didn¡¯t trust her enough to let her anywhere near his metalworking tools just yet. Alice had told her a little bit about the oasis town: Mushariff Idan was an old friend of the old forgemaster who passed away a few years back, and Jaleel was the apprentice who had to inherit the forge, but since nobody in town had hands hard enough to handle working in the forge, Jaleel had never had anyone to help handle the menial chores around him. Mushariff Idan recommended her as an apprentice a few days back after seeing her black chitin hands, so every day, for five hours before dusk, her second job was very simple¡ªshe did everything but making things with her hands. When Jaleel barked at her to step on the bellows and feed the furnace, she jumped and bounced as fast as she could. When Jaleel snapped his fingers and gestured wildly at no metalworking tool in particular, she took one glance at whatever he was making for the townsfolk and fetched him the tool he needed. When glowing-hot metal needed cooling and there wasn¡¯t enough water in the buckets, she raced out to draw more water and splashed the people waiting in line who were looking like they were about to overheat. Despite all the shouting and sparks flying and physically demanding work¡­ dusk eventually arrived. The line gradually thinned, the last requests for the day were taken. The ringing of hammer on metal stopped vibrating in her ears, and when she finished brushing all the scrap metal on the floor into trays for recycling, sighing a huge breath of relief¨C She was picked up by her collar and thrown out of the forge quite promptly with a pouch of coins in her hands. ¡­ It¡¯s still early, though? The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. As she whirled and opened her mouth, Jaleel waved her off by the door and scratched the back of his head sheepishly, turning around so he could finish a few more orders before closing up for the night. She still couldn¡¯t understand the Sharaji town, but she heard two words. ¡®Rashia ball¡¯. ¡­ Though his back was turned, she dipped her head in gratitude and tucked her pay into her mantle, making a break for the southern end of town. The sun was already well on its way down, and the townsfolk were all getting ready to retire for the day, closing up shops and stalls as the communal kitchens started lighting up bright orange one by one. While breakfast and lunch were usually served by each individual household, everyone shared dinner together, and the communal kitchens were where the townsfolk mingled; seven at night was when everyone usually filed into the nearest kitchen, their stomachs at the mercy of whichever household was responsible for handling that specific kitchen that night. It was an unusual tradition, but not one Dahlia didn¡¯t like¡ªshe¡¯d just never eaten with anyone apart from Alice in Uncle Safi¡¯s tavern at the edge of the town. But it was still only six in the afternoon, and she had a little bit of time to kill before dinner. The hour of twilight before dinner was served was the Sharaji¡¯s children domain. Little groups of them were let off slightly early from work and were washing off in the oasis, racing each other on the roofs, or crowding the alleys looking for their friends to play with. Among the Oasis Town¡¯s nightlife, pure and childlike games of entertainment weren¡¯t lacking. By foot, it only took her ten minutes circling around the oasis before she reached the tiny alley where she¡¯d played her first and only game in town¡ªand everyone, including Alice, was already waiting for her to arrive. Dahlia hadn¡¯t beaten Alice once in ¡®Risha ball¡¯, the name of the game where two teams competed to smash a small reed-woven ball across a net using only their wrists, but whenever she had time to spare after finishing her menial chores for the day and night, it was mostly a one versus one game between her and the Hasharana. The kids knew better than to stand in the way of the two four-armed monstrosities; that didn¡¯t mean they weren¡¯t allowed to watch, though, and Dahlia felt she¡¯d gotten a lot of fans since she started playing against Alice. There were only about a dozen kids on her first night of playing. Now she counted at least fifty heads, all scattered and sitting across the roofs surrounding the alley. Most likely, it was precisely because she still hadn¡¯t claimed even a single point from Alice¡ªjust like them¡ªthat she was an underdog to root for. And so she was the Sharaji children¡¯s chosen representative, worthy of cheering and rallying behind. ¡°... Play to eleven points?¡± Alice asked, smirking as she translated to the boys sitting on her side of the court. The girls on Dahlia¡¯s side were all sweaty, wrists swollen, panting for breath¡ªevidently they¡¯d already tried challenging the Hasharana in teams to no avail. She thought it was only natural, though. Only a monster could beat another monster. Nodding resolutely, she accepted the cheers from the girls as she stepped onto her side of the court, taking off her mantle and coin pouches and everything that could weigh her down. It was just last night after she returned from the games that Granda Ramaba had given her the lightest of tunics and shorts for her to move around easily¡ªand it was hot around here as well¡ªso her blood was already pumping too fast for her to feel any embarrassment about showing more skin than usual. The murmurs and giggles and quiet chatter were all background noise; when Alice slid off the roof and landed on the other side of the court, the only thing she had in her eyes was the small Risha ball in the Hasharana¡¯s hands. Just one point. If I can get one point, then I¡¯ll be satisf¨C Alice served the ball with no comment, a jumping smash that was neither easy to see nor easy to react to. She didn¡¯t even have time to fan her arms out before the ball slammed into the ground, kicking up a wave of sand that splashed into the girls¡¯ faces¡ªone point for Alice and the boys. ¡­ She always serves the first ball with overwhelming power. [It is an attempt to defeat you in your head,] Eria agreed. [Her next few serves should be easier to receive now that she believes she has the overwhelming advantage. Take your time and time your attacks.] [Just breathe in and focus,] Issam added helpfully. [Thweet!] Jerie added unhelpfully All easier said than done, she thought. But when she does the jump and serves like that¨C Second serve. A gust of wind. Dahlia reacted and caught the slow-soaring ball with her first wrist, juggled it to her second, then feinted a return with her third wrist¡ªonly to ¡®miss¡¯ with her swing, returning it underhanded with her fourth wrist instead. The girls clapped and cheered and jumped to their feet, knees quivering in excitement. They¡¯d just seen delicate and impossible control from someone who¡¯d whacked her face with her own arms eight days ago, and now she was properly juggling a ball the size of her head; she had only her two jobs during the day to thank for letting her practice handling multiple items with her four arms. [Fast. Good control. Your balance control is fourteen percent higher than yesterday,] Eria said. [But now you need to add a bit of strength to your returns, or else¨C] A whoosh. Cheers abruptly cut short by a blast of wind. Alice leaped forward and smashed the ball back over the moment it crossed the net, and Dahlia couldn¡¯t help but sneeze in the face of the cloud of sand. Her heart was racing faster now, adrenaline rushing through her veins. It wasn¡¯t a perfect return and she knew it, but that was the first time she¡¯d successfully managed a feint without hitting herself; maybe she could start adding in a bit more strength now. ¡­ Don¡¯t break the ball, don¡¯t break the ball, don¡¯t break the ball! [Don¡¯t imagine you¡¯re gripping a sword with both hands,] Issam said, whispering into her ear. [Imagine¡­ one hand. Like you¡¯re just swinging a stick you picked up in the garden. If you swing too hard, the stick will fly out of your hands, right?] [Control is key,] Amula agreed. [But also put some strength into it,] Raya mumbled. [If you can¡¯t, just let me take over your body. I¡¯ll be sure to¨C] Eria! Level my strength and perceptivity to five! [Strength: 4 ¡ú 5] [Perceptivity: 4 ¡ú 5] [Unallocated Points: 65 ¡ú 33] Alice served the third, fourth, fifth, and sixth balls in quick succession, and Dahlia lost each point without ever even hitting the balls¡ªshe tried to return smash the moment each ball was served with all of her strength, all of her speed, all of her toughness and all of her control, but having too much power was an issue she¡¯d never had to deal with in Alshifa. The girls winced and the boys jeered every time she jumped into a wall, jumping into the net, or jumped face first into the ball in an attempt to smash it the same way Alice could so¡­ but she wasn¡¯t about to give up now. The seventh ball was when she felt her extra arms ¡®clicking¡¯ with the rest of her body, and for the first time in eight days, she return smashed the ball without breaking it, sending it thundering back across the net¡ªonly for Alice to return it effortlessly, bouncing it right over the net to let it thud against the sand. Alice fixed her with a twisted smile, and she sent a quivering one back, her lips thinning into a line. I can do it. [You can do it!] Ayla cheered. [You¡¯ll get at least one point, I think,] Aylee said, not so optimistically. The eighth, ninth, and tenth balls were back and forth rallies. Long ones. They probed each other with fancy ball juggles, showing off to the wooing and wowing crowd, before attacking with straights and crosses that were not nearly as sharp as their smashes. Dahlia had an easy time receiving those slower shots, now¡ªshe didn¡¯t have nearly the amount of control eight days ago to even think of receiving them¡ªbut she lost those points just as brutally as Alice dragged her around the court, sprinting after the ball at all times. She was tired after a long day of work, and Alice didn¡¯t look like she¡¯d done anything but play the entire past week. It was only because of this ball game that Dahlia realised how lacking she was as someone implanted with an Altered Swarmsteel System. There were too many attributes she still had to level up, too many aspects of herself to improve. ¡­ But this ends today. Watch me. The eleventh ball. The final point. Alice served hard and fast, smirking as though she wanted Dahlia to crumble right from the get-go¡ªand Dahlia pounced at the net with her claws brandished, teeth bared like she was going to tear the net into shreds. That got a flinch out of the Hasharana, and really, a moment of distraction was all she needed. Eria! [Strength: 5 ¡ú 6] [StrainLimit: 1037 ¡ú 1045] [Unallocated Points: 33 ¡ú 0] Every drop of strength she could squeeze out of her muscles, the tension, the speed, the dexterity¡ªher body shuddered as she smashed the ball with a low growl, sending it straight down in front of the net where Alice wasn¡¯t at. And the ball landed. [... Nice job,] Issam said, and his voice was so close to her ears yet so far away at the same time; it tickled her brain and made her giggle with delight. [That¡¯s your first point out of¡­ well, I wasn¡¯t keeping count of the total points you¡¯ve lost, but hey! You got it¨C] The crowd erupted into a storm of cheers, boys and girls alike, as they jumped down from the roofs to squish her into a ball of tight hugs. She yelped and struggled to breathe; there were so many kids talking and laughing and shouting over each other that she could scarcely hear the dinner bell ringing in the distance, so when their parents started howling their names and calling for them to get ready for dinner, she was more grateful than anything. She may not be able to bask in her gaining a single point against Alice, and the game technically wasn¡¯t even over yet¡ªit was now one point to ten¡ªbut this was good enough. As the children freaked out and scattered and raced off to appease their parents, only one little girl stayed behind, clutching onto Dahlia¡¯s black wrist with both hands as she looked between the two four-armed girls. Dahlia frowned, looking over at Alice pointedly, and the Hasharana blurred across the net to kneel in front of the little girl with a strained smile. ¡­ Is she irritated that she lost a point to me? But I thought she gave that one to me for free? [It certainly looked and felt like it,] Eria agreed. [But even a Hasharana is prone to making small errors here and there.] She wasn¡¯t quite buying the explanation, but that wasn¡¯t important right now; only now did she recognise the little girl holding onto her as one of the two she¡¯d teamed up with in her first ever game eight days ago. ¡°... So?¡± Alice asked, a mischievous lilt to her voice. ¡°Was it fun watching us fight each other?¡± The little girl bobbed her head vigorously, dark eyes shining bright and true. Alice laughed and winked up at Dahlia, a barely noticeable pass. ¡°Then, how about helping us have a little fun, too?¡± Alice said, smiling even more playfully now. ¡°Can you distract the guards while we sneak into the deceased lady¡¯s house? Promise we¡¯re not gonna mess anything up¡ªwe just wanna look around for a bit, that¡¯s all! We¡¯re curious to know more about the Oasis Town!¡± Dahlia snapped her face down to scowl at Alice, but the little girl nodded happily again before beginning to skip away¡ªso the Hasharana rose to her feet and gave Dahlia one last wink, as though to say ¡®I wasn¡¯t playing all along¡¯. For her part, Dahlia didn¡¯t know how much of the past week was just Alice indulging in the playfulness of a child, and how much was actual work being done to investigate more about Madamaron. ¡­ But perhaps it didn¡¯t matter. Dahlia felt she, too, had played around for long enough. She followed Alice out of the alley, away from the net, and raced after the little girl who was going to be their guide. Chapter 41 - Ripple "Guard us, great wind deity," the whispers rise, from Sharaji towns to star-filled skies, and at month''s dark end, the men brave the sands, with gifts and prayers in trembling hands. Fifteen figs, thirteen dates, Ten pomegranates, and eight lutes of fate. It is no monster, nor devil, they seek to sway, But the hand that keeps destruction at bay. "... Spare us, great deity," and so they plead, in fear and hope, their voices lead, ¡°Beast of dread, the desert¡¯s king,¡± ¡°Madamaron, The Destroyer sings.¡± - Poem of ¡®Madamaron, The Destroyer¡¯
The little girl who was their guide ran fast and low, keeping to the alleys, making it difficult for Dahlia and Alice to follow her on foot. Thankfully, Alice¡¯s comb-like moth antennae were sensitive to all sounds¡ªthey could just barely keep up by the flutters of the little girl¡¯s cloak, rounding corner after corner as Dahlia noted where they were headed. The northern end of the Sharaji Oasis Town. ¡°What are we doing, exactly?¡± Dahlia asked mid-run, vaulting a small crate, and Alice beamed at her as they ducked under a slanted pallet. ¡°I told you,¡± Alice said. ¡°The older townsfolk don¡¯t actually trust me and uncle Safi all that much, Hasharana and our infamy across the continent. They won¡¯t listen to any request I make at the expense of their age-old traditions, and that means I couldn¡¯t get access to the murdered people¡¯s houses. After all, the Oasis Town believes a deceased¡¯s house cannot be entered for at least a year after their passing¡ªsome sort of mystic belief¡ªbut I bet we¡¯ll find some clues about Madamaron if we can poke around inside.¡± ¡°Why?¡± Alice tilted her head at her like she was stupid, and Eria reminded her promptly. [She told us that in all three murder cases, the victims in question were never seen leaving their houses at night,] Eria explained. [If we are to believe it is no act of god or spirit, the Mutant preying on the Oasis Town is likely capable of manipulating people¡¯s senses on a mass scale. After all, people cannot just ¡®disappear¡¯ from a sealed room. The guards¡¯ perception must have been altered while the Mutant grabbed its victim from their houses. In that case, there should be traces of the Mutant in their houses that we can use to determine what insect, exactly, we are hunting.] ¡°Your Archive is correct,¡± Alice said, not missing a beat as they rounded one last corner, finally breaking out of the alley as they raced after the little girl. ¡°To be frank, there are plenty of giant insects and Mutants capable of creating illusions and the like, but none that I know of living in the desert. I need to get inside one of those houses. Preferably, I don¡¯t get thrown out of town with uncle Safi while I do so!¡± ¡­ Most of the plan made sense to her, but the final part only clicked in place when Alice yanked her behind a crate, pulling her out of sight of two guards standing outside a small sandstone house at the northern edge of the town. She¡¯d never been this far north before, but just the dreary atmosphere in the air told her it was the house of the woman she¡¯d found dead in an alley a week ago; the guards, then, were probably there to stop people like Alice from barging in, claiming she was simply doing as the Hasharana requested. Not that Dahlia didn¡¯t think Alice couldn¡¯t barge in with pure brute force alone, but the Hasharana didn¡¯t seem to work that way, at least. Violence against the locals was out of the question¡ªhence, the small twist in her stomach when the little girl they¡¯d been following ran up to the guards and started chatting them up, making their conversation as loud and obnoxious as humanly possible. The two of them watched the guards relax and take their hands off their saifs for a moment. Then Alice turned to her, shushed her with a finger to her lips, and dragged her around the back where several crates were already stacked like a set of stairs. Alice bowed slightly and gestured up the crates, pointing at the small circular window at the top of the wall that usually served as additional ventilation on extremely hot days. ¡°After you,¡± the Hasharana whispered. ¡°And feel free to cut the window open. It¡¯s locked from the inside, but I can fix it if you don¡¯t cut it too messily.¡± ¡­ So this is why she¡¯s been playing Risha ball with the kids the entire past week, she thought, hunching her back and climbing the crates slowly, careful not to make too much noise as she reached the top. She manipulated the girl into helping her break tradition. [Yet the little girl would most certainly not have agreed to help without your presence the past week,] Eria added. [If Alice is the town¡¯s hated outsider, then you are the town¡¯s favoured outsider. The bad bug and the good bug. The bad four-arms and the good four-arms. If Alice had asked alone, she would most likely have run off in fear, but you are trustworthy at the very least¡ªnow you are in this together.] I¡¯m an accomplice, then? Eria, the tiny black bug, shrugged on her shoulders. [The children had fun, and you had your training. Does it matter if it means you can figure out what sort of Mutant the townsfolk are up against?] ¡­ Before Alice could nag her to hurry up, she sliced the window open with her claws and slipped through, landing on the tip of her toes with her fingers touching the floor. Her first impression of the house was ¡®small¡¯. Like her own room on the second floor of Grandma Ramaba¡¯s general store, the decor here was quiet and cosy. There was an old chair and table wedged against the wall on her left, a quilted bed and small cabinet on her right, and a wide fire pit circled by stones in the middle of the room. Like most other houses, palm was the wood of choice for lining the ceiling, and there was a towel placed before the front door to stop sand from blowing in. The only thing that stood out was the semi-kitchen next to the front door; there were cutting boards sitting on a protruding counter, a bunch of spice jars sitting on shelves, and a giant, old-fashioned baker¡¯s oven carved into the walls that reminded her of Smith Jaleel¡¯s furnace. The lady who¡¯d lived here must¡¯ve liked cooking. The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. ¡°... Well, I¡¯m glad the kid¡¯s good at yammering on and on about how much she likes making makeshift desert flares,¡± Alice said, half-laughing, half-muttering as she dropped into the room behind Dahlia, landing and staying on her tiptoes just as well. ¡°You take the left half, I¡¯ll take the right half. Find anything suspicious, we¡¯re taking it out of here and investigating it in uncle Safi¡¯s tavern. She¡¯s probably going to run out of breath in about ten minutes or so.¡± Dahlia nodded back, and the two of them parted to search through the furniture. For a brief moment she felt that twist in her stomach again¡ªguilt from disrespecting and desecrating the house of the dead¡ªbut she told herself more would die if they didn¡¯t learn anything Madamaron in here. Compared to what she¡¯d done to Instructor Biem and her dad¡¯s bodies, this was neither as hands-on nor as visceral. She¡¯d pull through. But what, exactly, am I supposed to look out for? While Alice retreated into the washroom, the storage room, and whatever else was through the doorway off to the side, she didn¡¯t even know where to begin her investigation. She crept over to the cabinet, and nothing was on the surface apart from dust and bronze jewellery yet to be set in vanity boxes. Back to the bed, desk, and chair, they were each perfectly aligned in their own little corners of the room, not looking a single inch out of place. She moved closer to the semi-kitchen, then, careful not to make the sandstone flooring crack, keeping her head low so the guards outside couldn¡¯t peer in through the windows¡ªbut there was nothing special about the knives and bowls and the utensils hanging off the wall hooks, either. She raised her head and sniffed, letting the spice and herbal scents fill her up. The smell of musty old fabrics and what seemed to be perfume from the quilted bedding made her nose tingle, but there wasn¡¯t anything distinctly out of place like a bombardier beetle¡¯s explosive extract. Nothing particularly pungent. Nothing particularly dewy or earthy, even though¡­ ¡­ ¡­ The sandstone wall next to the bed caught her eye. ¡°Alice,¡± she whispered, and the Hasharana poked her head out of the doorway, ears craned. ¡°You¡¯re sure the guards said nobody walked in or out of the houses on the nights of murder, right?¡± Alice nodded firmly. ¡°I¡¯m sure. And it wasn¡¯t just the guards¡ªthe nearby townsfolk corroborated their claims, saying they didn¡¯t hear any front door bells ringing those nights. From their perspective, no doors were ever opened.¡± ¡°And you think it¡¯s because Madamaron is an insect that can affect senses with¡­ some sort of chemical? Maybe like small, poisonous scales that can wash over the entire town, stopping people from noticing it just walking into the house and grabbing the victim?¡± ¡°Yep.¡± ¡°But the windows were locked from the inside before we broke in, and the horizontal slit underneath the front door is still blocked by a towel,¡± she said, pointing at the towel in question. Alice skittered back out into the living room, kneeling next to her to hear her better. ¡°The room is also extremely tidy. It¡¯s like there wasn¡¯t even a scuffle here. If Madamaron really altered everyone¡¯s perceptions and walked in to snatch the poor lady, wouldn¡¯t something have been knocked over? Is it smart enough to know to pull the towel back in place after opening the front door?¡± Alice¡¯s frown was immediate. ¡°I¡¯m not following.¡± ¡°Look.¡± The Hasharana fixed her with a befuddled gaze as she placed her palm on the sandstone wall next to the bed, rubbing coarse grains off the wall as easily as old paint with a sheet of sandpaper¡ªand then Alice raised a brow in amusement, both of them turning to face this one particular section of the wall where, conveniently, there was no furniture sitting in front of it. ¡°... The patterning of this wall is warped,¡± Alice said. ¡°Almost like it¡¯d been drenched in water.¡± Dahlia¡¯s gaze lingered on the wall, twirling a claw along the circular ripple pattern to carve off more grains of sand. ¡°The wall¡¯s also weaker and looser than usual. At least, the walls in my room don¡¯t crumble like this even when you rub it really hard.¡± ¡°Because they¡¯re superheated and hardened by the sun.¡± ¡°Right,¡± she breathed, closing her eyes for a brief second before snapping over to look at Alice, mouth grim. ¡°I¡¯m not sure if it¡¯s just fiction, but¡­ um, my mom used to have this insect encyclopaedia. I have every insect on it memorised, and supposedly they¡¯re all real insects that exist on the surface, though I never figured out if that was actually true or not¨C¡± ¡°¨Cmost likely not¨C¡± ¡°¨Cbut there¡¯s a species of beetle called ¡®Fog-basks¡¯ that live exclusively in the desert, capable of collecting water from early morning fogs on its elytra,¡± she continued, glancing at Eria for confirmation. ¡°The complicated name is¡­ um, ¡®Stenocara Gracilipes¡¯. I think. The little bumps on their elytra are water-loving, which means water sticks to them, so its insect parts are sometimes used for water collection down in Alshifa as well, but¡­ I think this is what happened here.¡± She poked the centre of the ripples with a single claw, drawing attention there. ¡°There were no illusions. There were no alterations of any perceptions. The front door bells never rang and the towels never moved, because Madamaron didn¡¯t come in through the front door¡­ or any of the windows for that matter,¡± she said, miming pushing her entire arm through the ripples to the other side of the wall. ¡°If the fog-bask Beetle can use its collected water to soften the sandstone wall, then it can just reach through, grab its victim sleeping on the bed, and then pull them out through the mud-like wall. Then they kill the victim so there¡¯s no struggle, no sound. The wall is never fully destroyed in this scenario. The pattern is just warped and rippled like this because that¡¯s where its arm reached through, and when daybreak arrives, the sun just reheats the wall and makes it appear like the victim vanished without ever going through the front door.¡± ¡°...¡± ¡°... That¡¯s what I think, anyways,¡± she said, scratching her ear and averting her eyes as she did. ¡°I¡¯m not sure if a Mutant fog-bask beetle can do something as intricate as releasing its collected water whenever it pleases, but¡­ the Mutant firefly in Alshifa could throw lightning bolts, and that¡¯s pretty magical to me, so¨C¡± ¡°You are a genius,¡± Alice breathed, clasping all four hands on Dahlia¡¯s shoulders with a wide grin. ¡°You know, that makes way more sense than my ¡®making the entire town hallucinate¡¯ theory. If you think it¡¯s a¡­ a what? A fog-bask beetle? If you think it can collect and release concentrated water at will to soften up sandstone, then it also explains how sandstorms are less frequent after a successful hunt. Assuming it goes dormant for an entire year after filling its stomach with three people, that means it¡¯s not collecting water from the atmosphere, which means sandstorms don¡¯t happen quite as often. It makes sense!¡± Dahlia felt her cheeks redden as she started biting her claws. ¡°It could still be¡­ something else. We shouldn¡¯t be so sure we¡¯re looking for a beetle. If we start thinking it¡¯s one thing and it turns out to be something else, we¡¯ll¨C¡± ¡°We¡¯ll die to it in battle, simple as that. It¡¯s a Mutant, after all,¡± Alice agreed with a nod, and then she started dragging Dahlia back towards the window they¡¯d crawled in through. ¡°The girl sounds like she¡¯s running out of topics to distract the guards with. She¡¯s talking about oasis reeds now. Heh. She¡¯s hungry.¡± ¡°But don¡¯t we need to¨C¡± ¡°Just knowing it has the ability to potentially walk through walls is enough of a start,¡± Alice interrupted, climbing out the window before peeking through, offering her a helping hand. ¡°I¡¯ll ask uncle Safi if he knows anything about how to lure a desert beetle out of hiding later. In the meantime, we can go get dinner together. How¡¯s that for a plan?¡± ¡°...¡± She had no complaints. It wasn¡¯t like she wanted to desecrate the poor lady¡¯s house any further. Quickly, she accepted Alice¡¯s helping hand and crawled out the window as well, landing with a quiet poomf. By the time she turned around to ask what they¡¯d do about the window, the Hasharana was already hanging off the edge of the roof with two hands, stitching the cutout circular pane back onto the window with her other hands. The entire process took no more than ten seconds¡ªAlice dropped down just as quickly and snatched her wrist, pulling her away from the house and back out onto the main street where they could simply walk like normal people. There, Alice glanced around and gave the little girl a casual, playful wink; the signal that they were done with their investigations. The little girl waved the guards goodbye before running off herself, leaving the two men scratching their heads, confused about the whole ordeal. ¡­ Eria. [I do not know what type of moth she is, either¨C] I saw it. Her eyes hardened on Alice¡¯s hand as the Hasharana continued pulling her down the street. Her blood-red nails are silk. Do you know any moth that can create silk even after they reach their adult phase? A pause. But not without an answer to follow. [... I suspect her insect species is much like yours,] Eria said plainly. [A species that, according to the Archive of Altered Swarmsteel Systems, should no longer exist.] Chapter 42 - Little Maker None of the townsfolk frequented Uncle Safi¡¯s ¡®Breathing Tavern¡¯ at the edge of town, and probably for good reason¡ªeven after an entire week of having her dinners here, Dahlia still couldn¡¯t quite get used to the fact that the floorboards and walls and ceilings were all swaying left and right, up and down, back and forth. They were slight distractions, truly; easy to ignore background movements if she considered how tasty Uncle Safi¡¯s food was, but maybe it was just because of her appetite, or because her stomach was always growling every time she stepped into the tavern that she didn¡¯t really find the creaking and groaning floorboards particularly eerie. She was here to eat. Simple as that. But for the townsfolk of the Sharaji Oasis Town, dinner was an hour to get together with friends and family and share stories of their day. It was nothing like how she and Alice took their meals in this tavern, just the two of them patrons in this otherwise vacant and lonely establishment. ¡°... Uncleeeee, I¡¯m hungry,¡± Alice groaned, slamming her upper body flat against the bar counter, arms sprawled out across the lacquered wood. ¡°I want big eggs filled with beetles, tomatoes, pepper, and onion. Also, spiced cold cuts and fruits. Also, dinner bread with vinegar and a side of dipping sauce. Also, I want¨C¡± ¡°What do you want, Dahlia?¡± Uncle Safi grumbled back, back turned towards the two of them as Dahlia fidgeted in her elevated bar stool, trying to avoid touching Alice¡¯s sprawled-out arms. ¡°I don¡¯t have much in the inventory, so until I go out tomorrow and refresh my supplies, I can get you some fried skewers sprinkled with sand cinnamon. Anything else you want?¡± Dahlia tilted her head back and thought for only a moment before reaching into her cloak, pulling out her pay for the day. ¡°Can I have¡­ um, something sweet? Do you have candy?¡± Uncle Safi glanced around and gave her coin pouches a nasty eye, waving them off the counter. ¡°I don¡¯t know how to make candy, but if it¡¯s sweet desserts you want, I can get you tarts alongside my niece¡¯s ones.¡± She nodded vigorously, not wanting to be a spoiled brat and ask for what simply couldn¡¯t be delivered. Come to think of it, she¡¯d never asked how her dad always had an endless supply of bloodberry candies for her to suck on, either¡ªmaybe candies were really, really difficult or expensive to make. Still, the appetiser bread Uncle Safi slid towards them before retreating into his kitchen at the back was sweet. She and Alice each took a single slice to stave off the hunger for the time being, but for the past two years in Alshifa, the bread itself would¡¯ve been her full dinner; it was doused in delicate honey with a stuffing of shredded insect flesh, like her breakfast and lunch, which was already more juicy meat in a day than a whole month back in the undertown. Of course, she didn¡¯t ignore the status screen that Eria showed her while perched atop her shoulder. [Unallocated Points: 0 ¡ú 6] It didn¡¯t matter what dish it was, or how long it took Uncle Safi to prepare it in his kitchen; every little chunk of insect flesh counted towards increasing her unallocated points. Maybe the idea of putting insects in every single dish on the menu was off-putting to the townsfolk¡ªshe knew the her from Alshifa would¡¯ve turned her guts inside out at just the thought of it, at least¡ªwhich was why the townsfolk avoided this tavern like it was the plague, but she also had to admit¡­ the dishes weren¡¯t terrible at all. Far from it. Uncle Safi was an ingenious cook who knew how to suppress the instinctive repulsion with mouth-watering recipes that incorporated only a bit of insect flesh here, a bit of insect flesh there. If she didn¡¯t have Eria showing her unallocated points increasing, she felt there was a chance she wouldn¡¯t even be able to distinguish a ¡®normal¡¯ dish from an insect-flavoured dish. And, seeing her chow down on her bread so willingly, Alice turned with the side of her face still pressed against the counter, chewing on her bread without any hand support. ¡°Unckel¡¯s cookeng isth de besht,¡± the Hasharana mumbled, quite incoherent, so Uncle Safi barked at her to speak properly all the way from the kitchen. She pulled herself upright with a groan and stuffed the rest of her bread down, swallowing hard. ¡°Did you know the exact same cut of insect flesh¡ªsame mass, same shape, same everything¡ªwill give you a different number of points depending on how it¡¯s cooked?¡± Dahlia shook her head, frowning slightly as she kept on chewing. ¡°You mean¡­ if you cook it, you¡¯ll get less points?¡± ¡°Eh? Why¡¯s that your first assumption?¡± ¡°Because if you cook meat¡­ you denature the tough parts of the meat.¡± Alice blinked, ¡°No. It¡¯s the opposite. Cooked insect flesh typically gives you more points. That¡¯s because raw insect flesh tends to have a lot of bacteria that¡¯ll mess up your insides, which means your Altered Swarmsteel System needs to work a lot more to safely extract the biomass and turn it into points. You can¡¯t overcook the meat, though, for normal reasons, so the mark of a skilled Hasharana Chef is how they can prepare a dish containing insect flesh to provide someone with the most points possible. Each species of insect has its own optimum temperature during cooking, so just ignore this conversation and leave it all to uncle. He¡¯ll handle our food no problem.¡± The old man himself was speed-walking from steaming stove to steaming stove inside the kitchen, and Dahlia lowered her voice as she swallowed the last bits of her bread. ¡°And is Uncle Safi a Hasharana like you, too?¡± ¡°Him? Nah. Uncle¡¯s just a normal cook,¡± Alice replied, waving her hand absentmindedly. ¡°When I say ¡®Hasharana Chef¡¯, I just mean people who cook for the Hasharana back at the Genesis Glade Front. All Hasharana are fighters, plain and simple. If any one of us knew how to cook, the Worm God wouldn¡¯t have to employ fifty cooks at our base all-year long¨C¡± ¡°¨Cyour skewers, Dahlia¨C¡± ¡°¨Cthank you¨C¡± ¡°¨Cbecause the specialised cooks can¡¯t fight and defend themselves outside of our base, nor do their specialties make them welcome in any normal town or city that doesn¡¯t need bug slayers,¡± Alice finished, scowling at Uncle Safi as he spun out, handed Dahlia her steaming plate of fried beetle skewers, and spun back into the kitchen. ¡°Uncleeeee. Where¡¯s mine? I¡¯ve been playing ball the entire afternoon!¡± Uncle Safi glanced back and returned a scowl. ¡°And Dahlia actually worked two jobs today to repay the townsfolk for letting her stay here. You¡¯ll get yours when I feel like sweating for a freeloader.¡± ¡°But I ordered first!¡± ¡°You don¡¯t work, you don¡¯t eat.¡± While uncle and niece squabbled from halfway across the tavern, Dahlia plucked one of the skewers and gave the square chunks of meat a long, hard look. Sprinkled with sand cinnamon as it was, she couldn¡¯t quite tell what insect flesh she might be digging into, though she could say the same for every dish she¡¯d eaten in the past week¡ªif she didn¡¯t ask Alice or Uncle Safi, she wouldn¡¯t be able to recognise anything at all. She decided that maybe she didn¡¯t really care as long as it tasted good and could fill her growing, insatiable hunger. Bracing herself, clenching her throat, she took the plunge and bit off the first chunk. [Unallocated Points: 6 ¡ú 17] It had a fine, spicy taste, filling her nose with a familiar scent of char and firewood. The meat was a bit chewy, so she felt it might be some variant of beetle or shield bug meat¡ªthose ones were generally tougher to gnaw through than most others she¡¯d tried so far¡ªbut Uncle Safi outdid himself with this dish again. Her face lifted and a small, satisfied smile tugged on the corner of her lips as she worked through the rest of her skewers, and throughout all of the five minutes, while Alice and Uncle Safi were still rambling off at each other about dishes far beyond her understanding¨C She heard a scuffle behind her, outside the front door, and she turned at the exact same time as Alice did to see the shadows of a mother and child fighting over¡­ something. The tavern was too bright with firefly light, the town outside relatively dim in comparison. She only vaguely heard the mother shouting as the child cried, trying to hold onto some kind of goggles in their hands, but eventually the child was overpowered. The mother ripped off half of the goggles, and the child stumbled back into the tavern, thrown off balance by their own pulling force. When the little girl fell through the door and landed flat on her back, Dahlia blinked. It was the same girl who¡¯d distracted the guards for her and Alice just an hour ago. ¡­ While the mother stormed off in anger, shouting what Dahlia just knew meant something along the lines of ¡®don¡¯t come back for the night¡¯, the little girl scrambled onto her knees and started scooping up all the metal parts that¡¯d come off the pair of goggles in her hand. It was a frantic, pitiable look¡ªeven Uncle Safi poked his head out the kitchen to see what was going on, and then the little girl finally seemed to notice all three of them staring at her from the counter. Her eyes went wide at first, a smile rising as she recognised Alice and Dahlia. Then the pained expression returned and she whirled away, clenching her jaw, picking up the remaining scrap parts as quickly as she could before racing out of the tavern. Dahlia pursed her lips, eyes dark and half-lidded. ¡°... Just like Hasharana Chefs who only know how to make dishes containing insect flesh for bug slayers, Swarmsteel Makers in small towns like this aren¡¯t very looked up upon,¡± Alice said, turning back to the counter with a shrug as she stole a skewer from Dahlia¡¯s plate, tearing into the meat without an ounce of care. ¡°The town may be using furniture and amenities made with insect parts, but, by definition, they¡¯re not Swarmsteel. Swarmsteel are things you physically and biologically meld with, like clothes and armour and weapons that burn themselves onto your limbs. You don¡¯t see anyone wearing insect parts on their bodies here, do you?¡± Dahlia remained swivelled around, her face grim. ¡°So what do they do if something made with insect parts breaks down here? Just wait for a Maker to pass by and hope they can fix it?¡± ¡°There are Makers here. That forge you work at, and the smith¡­ very technically speaking, he is a Maker,¡± Alice explained slowly, chewing on a mouthful of meat. ¡°Just not a Swarmsteel Maker. That¡¯s the difference. Handling insect parts only when you¡¯re trying to repair something static like a bin or a carpet is no problem at all, but making something that will stick to someone is a big no-no here. Making stuff with dead stuff that goes on people¡¯s living bodies is tantamount to¡­ hm, like us breaking into that lady¡¯s house this afternoon. It¡¯s taboo to make and wear Swarmsteel here.¡± ¡°...¡± ¡°Well, it¡¯s not all too uncommon for small towns and villages across the continent to shun Swarmsteel Makers. There¡¯s a reason why the Genesis Glade Front have, like, a hundred employed Swarmsteel Makers that only make stuff for us. They can¡¯t really make a living anywhere else with their specialty, so¨C¡± The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. She slipped off her stool, snatched the remaining three skewers off her plate, and raced out the tavern. Invisible threads could¡¯ve shot out of Alice¡¯s nails to snag her, but she wasn¡¯t stopped. She wasn¡¯t shouted at to come back. Most likely, the Hasharana didn¡¯t care if this one particular child was having an argument with their parent, nor did she care if the child had a hobby that was looked down upon in the town¡ªbut, for some inexplicable reason, Dahlia felt she had to go after the girl. If nothing else, maybe it was because she just wanted to see what, exactly, it was the girl had been holding so tightly onto. Past the townsfolk going in and out of the communal kitchens, through crowds of people feasting and singing and playing Risha ball on the main streets, Dahlia drew close to the shadow of the little girl running like her life depended on it. The sounds of chatter and laughter gradually faded the further away they got from the kitchens. Deeper into the northern end of the Oasis Town where there were no communal kitchens and no crowds gathered, Dahlia only had moonlight above her head and the dim firelights from the braziers far behind her to light her way, but it was like the girl had inexhaustible stamina; she simply had no idea how long she was going to be running, and to where. But she kept eating and running. And she never let up. Eventually, as far away from civilization as they could be in the northwestern end of the Oasis Town, the little girl stopped and put her hands on her knees, panting as she kicked off her shoes and waded shin-deep into the oasis. By the time Dahlia caught up behind her with plenty of stamina to spare, she¡¯d already sat herself down in the sparkling water, curled up into a ball¡ªher broken goggles dangling loosely in her hand. ¡­ So Dahlia drew in a small breath and trudged forward, kicking off her shoes to join the little girl in the oasis. It wasn¡¯t until she made ripples that the girl whirled, tears welling in the corners of her eyes, but they didn¡¯t quite fall; the girl made more of an effort to cover her goggles than to wipe her face clean. Covering her goggles meant she wasn¡¯t holding all her scrap parts, though, and now they were floating on the surface of the oasis, swaying and bobbing in the gentle ripples. [... Hydrophobic insect parts,] Eria observed. [Perhaps she builds all her Swarmsteel in the oasis if all her parts can float on water. It is an actual technique Swarmsteel Makers in the Genesis Glade Front employ; it has long since been proven that working in still waters can increase a human¡¯s focus by a non-insignificant margin.] That was news to her. There weren¡¯t many ponds or river streams in Alshifa, so she¡¯d never even considered the idea of making any Swarmsteel outside of the musty confines of her bedroom, but it did sound like it could be relaxing if she were to do it in a cool oasis like this. She was extra careful not to make any large movements as she sat down next to the girl, then, to prevent the scrap parts from drifting away. The girl finally seemed to notice she¡¯d let go of the parts and moved to paddle them back, but she dropped her goggles in the process¡ªpoor hand-eye coordination. Dahlia caught the goggles with her third hand before it could plop into the oasis, making the girl flinch. But it wasn¡¯t a flinch of fear. She¡¯d seen Dahlia around enough times to know she wouldn¡¯t be hurt. ¡­ It¡¯s pretty well-made. Dahlia¡¯s urges got the better of her. She pulled the goggles in and started turning it around slowly, pulling the straps straight so the whole thing would flatten out. The girl¡¯s expression turned cold and distant as she opened her mouth, as though she wanted to ask for the return of her Swarmsteel, but just as quickly she averted her eyes and looked away when Dahlia started feeling the individual gears and cogs on the inside of the goggles¡¯ lenses; she had a look more befitting her age now, cheeks rosy with embarrassment as though she feared what Dahlia was going to say about her Swarmsteel. And Dahlia had tons she wanted to say about it. She didn¡¯t even need to actually turn any of the dials to guess what the goggles were supposed to do. The straps are corded birdwing butterfly veils, and there¡¯s three thin lenses layered on top of the first inner lens. Three glasswing butterfly veils folded multiple times to achieve the consistency of glass. They¡¯re each tinted into the three basic colours with¡­ spice dye? The three dials on the side of the goggles connect to the gears, so if the ¡®red¡¯ dial is turned, a mixture of firefly and sun beetle extract will flow behind the ¡®red¡¯ lens, and red light will glow out of the goggles. If both ¡®red¡¯ and ¡®yellow¡¯ are turned, extract will flow behind both and make orange light glow. Turn the dials the other way and the extract will drain off to the other side of the goggles, turning off the light. The extract then gets recycled back to its original storage vials for repeated use, and if it runs out of light to glow, the whole thing can just be left in the sun for a few hours so the extract can recharge. It¡¯s¨C [Night vision goggles that only work for the right eye,] Eria said, not sounding particularly impressed. [It is well-made, but fragile. The metal frame surrounding the lenses is tempered iron with a bronze coating, which means in high temperatures, it is less susceptible to heat expansion while the butterfly lenses will expand. This will eventually result in the lenses cracking because the frame is inflexible. In the desert, this is a flaw that¨C] Can be remedied. It was a shame she still couldn¡¯t speak the Sharaji tongue, so, instead of trying to talk to the little girl, she paddled the scrap parts over to her: a few cogs and gears, a few blobs of hydrophobic sticky sap, a few hollow reed tubes that must¡¯ve been how the extract was supposed to be recycled once the dials were turned off. Judging by the glum and sullen look on the little girl¡¯s face, it was beyond her ability to repair; the original gears were already glued on poorly and the straps loosely hooked onto the metal frame, so the whole Swarmsteel itself must¡¯ve taken days, if not weeks to cobble together with what little resources or outside help she had. Having something the little girl spent weeks on destroyed was a tough blow¡ªbut Dahlia saw the path, and she felt she didn¡¯t even really need to do much to get the goggles fixed. The ¡®core¡¯ of this Swarmsteel¡¯s function is night vision, and on that front, the butterfly lenses and the extract vials are still perfectly intact. The gears and tubes and sticky sap that came off are non-essential in the first place. Eria. [Yes?] Can you count down from sixty? I don¡¯t have a pocket watch with¡­ me¡­ ¡­ [Yes?] ¡­ Nevermind, she thought, shaking her head. Just¡­ watch me. Slowly, tentatively, she sharpened her assassin bug claws¡ªall fifteen of them, holding the goggles up with only one hand¡ªand immediately flipped the whole thing around until she located the extract vials. Three on the right side of the right lenses. Originally, extract would flow out of the vials whenever dials were turned, and it¡¯d wash across behind the lenses until the dials were turned off, at which point slits on the left would open to drain the extract. They were ripped off now, but she could guess the extract was supposed to flow back into the right vials via the reed tubes, thus completing the recycling¡­ but the solution to get rid of both the heavy tubes and lessen the inflexibility problem of the frame was simple. The goggles weren¡¯t made for her, it was made for the little girl to wear. The frame was small, the lenses were even smaller; using her claws, she carved a line along the underside of the right metal frame, and then she sealed up the holes in the right vials and the left slits where the tubes were initially supposed to connect with blobs of sticky sap. Once she was sure the line she¡¯d carved was deep enough, she sealed up the surface of the line with more sticky sap to turn the underside of the frame into a hollow frame. Even Eria seemed a bit puzzled by what she was doing, so she figured she didn¡¯t really need to explain the procedure in her head. Once she felt she was done with her modifications, she turned in the water and pulled the straps apart, clicking her tongue so the little girl would brush her own wavy hair out of the way. Carefully, she strapped the goggles around the girl¡¯s eyes and mimed turning the dials on the side. The little girl did exactly as instructed, though with a little hesitance. She turned only the red dial, and as Dahlia watched the extract wash behind the red lens to make the girl¡¯s right eye glow, she felt a sense of pride and accomplishment that at least she hadn¡¯t broken the extract release mechanism¡ªbut when the girl turned the red dial once again to drain the extract, it was only an indescribable sense of relief that she felt. Ah. I didn¡¯t mess it up after all. Taken aback, the girl reeled away in surprise as the extract didn¡¯t simply dribble out of the goggles even without the tubes. Instead, the faintly glowing extract simply drained into the line Dahlia had carved into the frame, running through the hollow pipe to return back to its original vial. For the first time tonight, a smile blossomed on the little girl¡¯s lips as she shot to her feet and whirled around the shallow ends of the oasis, turning each of the dials individually to check if the recycling mechanism was truly working properly¡ªand it was the most charming, most genuine smile Dahlia had seen since arriving onto the surface. [... The mixture of firefly and sun beetle extract glows only when it absorbs heat,] Eria mumbled, crawling over her shoulder. [And by draining the extract through the frame itself instead of a tube, whenever the lenses heats up in the scorching sun, the extract running through the frame will also heat up the frame so it expands slightly with the lenses, thus reducing the Swarmsteel¡¯s fragility.] It¡¯s also less cumbersome to wear without the tubes jutting out the side of the goggles. [That as well. Though the gears are still poorly glued on and the stitching could use some work.] My stitching is still pretty bad. [You could improve if you start making Swarmsteel again.] ¡­ She stayed sitting in the water, watching the little girl spin and twirl and laugh as she played around with the dials on the newer, lighter, less awkward-looking goggles. ¡­ Maybe. But I wonder¡­ if I wouldn¡¯t be better off just getting stronger by increasing by attribute levels and unlocking mutations. [You were the one who wanted to get stronger initially by only making Swarmsteel,] Eria said, tilting her little head. [Why the change of heart?] Because my Swarmsteel were weak. They were terrible. I made so many of them thinking they¡¯d stand a chance against that Mutant firefly, but they didn¡¯t do anything in the end after all. Maybe I¡¯m not supposed to grow stronger by making Swarmsteel. A pause. [... Well, it is true that right now, you should be focused on increasing your base attribute levels until they reach a certain benchmark,] Eria said softly. [Furthermore, to equip more Swarmsteel in the future and not have them strain you so much, you should continue increasing your strain limit first and foremost. Preferably, your equipped Swarmsteel should never account for more than twenty percent of your strain, and right now, with your assassin bug gauntlets, they are accounting for thirty-eight percent of your strain. That is thirty-eight percent of your stamina and mental faculties permanently being encumbered by your gauntlets.] She pulled her knees to her chest, smiling and waving as the little girl waved back at her. How many more points do I have to put into strain limit until it only accounts for twenty percent? [Nine hundred and thirty-eight points. There is no need to rush, however. At a steady rate of twenty points deposited into increasing your strain limit every day, you will reach that target within forty-seven days.] You¡¯re fast at maths. Eria bowed proudly. [I am, indeed, an Altered Swarmsteel System. There is no pure arithmetic calculation that I cannot make within ten seconds¨C] Plop. Plop. Plop. The oasis rippled. The waves were neither originating from her nor the twirling little girl. Darkness bloomed in the centre of the oasis like an inkblot spreading on parchment, and for a good few seconds, every hair on the back of Dahlia¡¯s neck stood up straight. ¡­ [... Something¡¯s off,] Raya muttered, his voice tight and urgent. [I can smell it¨C] The oasis belched aloud like the reawakening of a great beast¡¯s stomach. And when the little girl paused where she was twirling to look down, something dragged her under. Chapter 43 - Desert Spirit An unholy belch erupted from the oasis as the little girl was dragged under, disappearing beneath the waves without so much as a scream of panic. Dahlia didn¡¯t think. She didn¡¯t wait. She jolted to her feet and dashed forward, diving into the deep end of the oasis where she¡¯d always been told no human should ever try swimming over. There was a less than mystical reason, and Alice had told her as much¡ªthe reason why the oasis was capable of sustaining itself with endlessly growing reeds and shallow water crops was likely because there were hundreds and thousands of insect carcasses at the very bottom of the oasis, their bodies still in rapid decomposition from however long ago they¡¯d died. Their carcasses provided the nutrients, and the townsfolk plucked the crops diligently to prevent overgrowth; a relationship that¡¯d worked perfectly for the decades the town had been standing. A dead bug was the only good bug. Blinking through the water, the first thing she did was reach out and grab onto a clump of reeds both her right hands, still unripe for harvesting. With her left hands, she grabbed onto what felt like the little girl¡¯s outstretched wrists¡ªbut she was losing the girl fast, and the shadow trying to pull her under wasn¡¯t going to relent. Eria! What am I looking at down there? [I cannot see clearly. You will have to move closer.] No chance in hell she was going to do that. The unripe reeds in her right hands were still holding onto the shallow end of the oasis, but she could just tell they were going to rip in twenty seconds, maybe even less; if the reeds were pulled, both of them would be dragged into the deep pit and never resurface. She could barely see past the struggling and screaming little girl, but one look at the humanoid shadow beneath them and she realised she couldn¡¯t see the steel thread. Without knowing what she was facing, without studying its looks and anatomy and understanding its patterns of attack, she wouldn¡¯t be able to dismantle it cleanly. Was she to attempt pulling the little girl up and try to slash at it anyways, knowing she¡¯d be leaving both their lives to fate as to whether or not she could inflict any real damage? There was¡­ a more certain solution. A more painful one. But she¡¯d deal with the consequences later. Put all my points into strength! [Increasing your strain limit would allow you to breathe underwater for longer¨C] Just do it! [Strength: 6 ¡ú 7] [Unallocated Points: 38 ¡ú 2] She had one shot. One chance to make this work. She felt pain flaring up her arm as she jerked the little girl with a sudden burst strength, and when the giant insect beneath them failed to immediately pull harder in response, she found a small, small opening where she could release the reeds and swing her right hands down at either one of two targets: one of them being the giant insect¡¯s black raptorial claws stabbed into the little girl¡¯s shin. Gritting her teeth, she aimed for the other target, severing the little girl¡¯s leg beneath the knee and kicking off for the surface in the same motion. The moment their heads burst through the surface of the oasis, the girl began crying, gasping, choking all at once; the entire town heard the commotion. Torches were lit, saifs were drawn, people were flooding around the oasis in droves. Dahlia did her best to fling the little girl towards the closest shallow end, but not before nabbing the night vision goggles and holding it far overhead, frantically trying to wipe all the water off the inside lenses. She barely managed to fit it over her head and eyes before something sharp stabbed into her own ankle, pulling her back under. Eria! Please¨C [Injecting emergency adrenaline!] The claw dragged her past the reeds, past the shallow ends of the oasis, and down into the abyssal pit she went. There was no strategy or elegance about it¡ªwhatever resided at the bottom of the oasis simply wanted someone to fall into a watery grave, and the fastest way to do it was a claw through the leg, unable to be untangled by any normal human means. But she clenched her throat, tightened her chest, and turned the red and yellow dials on the side of the goggles; light immediately flared out her eyes like a directed firefly lantern, shining down on the giant insect in two wide cones. ¡­ Water bug. It was a seven-metre class, its carapace a dark, mottled brown, pocked with scars and encrusted with the detritus of a hundred carcasses. Its eyes were black pearls, unblinking and fathomless. While four of its barbed legs were stabbed into the walls of the pit to keep it from moving, one of its forelegs were currently tearing through her ankle; the other was swerving around from the side, aiming to decapitate her in one swift blow. Raising both her right arms to block, it was only her hardened black chitin that saved her bones from being snapped in two. At the same time, she bent down to carve its other foreleg into pieces, following the faint glow of the steel thread that appeared in her eyes. She couldn¡¯t see the path to dismantling the entire water bug, but so close to its foreleg, she figured its composition was about the same as any other bug with raptorial appendages: getting inside its curved apical claws and cutting between the seams of its chitin was the way to go. Her body trembled, a pained hiss bubbled out her lips as she wrenched the remnants of its claw out of her ankle¡ªshe¡¯d heal such a small wound soon enough¡ªbut now the water bug was furious, and it was getting desperate. The water around her churned and swirled as it started climbing up the pit, raising the rest of its gargantuan body out of the abyss; its jagged mandibles clicked together in anticipation as it surely knew she¡¯d never fought underwater, nor against something of its size by herself. It was right on both accounts. But, just as well, she¡¯d recently come to a realisation that maybe the steel threads she could see were no mere trick of the eye, or any manifestation of her skill when it came to dismantling things. [... It can be both,] Eria said. [At the end of the day, it is still a manifestation of the years you have spent making and unmaking Swarmsteel. Do not undersell yourself and the effort you have put in.] Maybe. But the steel thread my dad described may not be the steel thread I can see¡ªand it may not be the steel thread my mom could see, either. Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road. I¡¯m an assassin bug, aren¡¯t I? [...] Eria wouldn¡¯t tell her, but she¡¯d heard from her dad that the nightmares she used to share with her mom were those of ¡®assassin bugs¡¯¡ªterrestrial ambush predators shaped like teardrops with a unique defensive behaviour, where they¡¯d carry a variety of debris and materials, including the dead bodies of their prey, and wear all of it over their backs like armour. They were corpse-carrying bugs who sucked out the insides of their prey with their proboscis and looked nothing like any other bug when they donned the carcasses of their enemies, and, as part of their peculiar traits, their eyes and claws were specifically evolved to not simply rip and tear their prey to shreds. A prey completely torn apart with cruel violence and sheer brute force couldn¡¯t be used as armour; an assassin bug needed to watch, study its prey, and then decide to dismantle it as efficiently as possible. Maybe it wasn¡¯t even an ability she could unlocked on her mutation tree, of which she¡¯d yet to even take a glance at, but she felt maybe the ¡®steel threads¡¯ she could see were what the eyes of an assassin bug could see¡ªthe lines of death, often not swift, but always clean and efficient. And now she had four hands and twenty claws. Thank you, goggles. I can see now. She was ready for the water bug this time; she caught its other foreleg as it shot up for her neck, her claws digging into the chitin as she strained to hold it back. The water bug tried to headbutt her, mandibles pried apart, but she pushed herself to the left and slammed into the side of the pit, letting it rise past her. Unable to control its momentum or even turn efficiently, the water bug attempted pulling its other legs back to catch her in motion, but by then she¡¯d pushed herself off onto its back, two hands stabbing into its carapace as anchors while her remaining two traced the small black seams between its chitin. Biting her tongue, she lashed out in zigzags, sending a flurry of cuts, tears, and swipes down at the back of the water bug. Its thorax was her target, but more importantly she just had to get through it to its dorsal vessel¡ªthe vessel that functioned like a human heart, responsible for moving blood throughout its body¡ªand she knew from experience that the insides of a water bugs weren¡¯t much different from a normal terrestrial bug. She¡¯d seen water bug critters in the sewers of Alshifa before, and she¡¯d seen her mom take them apart before. Through the metathorax, past its first muscular layer, she¡¯d find what she was looking for hidden behind relatively soft and flexible chitin; its armour certainly wasn¡¯t as tough as the pine sawyer beetle she¡¯d dismantled before. [You gotta be quick with it, though,] Amula whispered, her garbled voice bubbling through the water. [You can¡¯t breathe underwater for long.] The water bug flailed around, throwing itself from side to side, wall to wall, trying to crush her against the sandstone. On a few occasions her spine was smashed into the walls of the pit, but Eria simply upped the dose of adrenaline and forced her to push through it, using the crushing force as extra momentum to cut deeper into its body¡ªand once she carved out a metre-diameter hole dead in the centre of its back, she released her anchoring hands to plunge all four into its thorax, ripping through its dorsal vessel and scrambling its insides. It wasn¡¯t a Mutant, and it wasn¡¯t smart enough to feign its death. The water bug convulsed and twitched and managed only a weak, pathetic bubble of a cry before it began sinking with her hands still stuck in it. And¡­ she couldn¡¯t pull her hands out. Faintly, she felt as though she heard Eria yelling inside her head, telling her to kick off for the surface, but there was only pain in her lungs. Her breath was gone. She was on fire from the inside, and the adrenaline and whatever else Eria had injected into her to numb the pain was now backfiring¡ªshe¡¯d have moved with more urgency if she¡¯d felt herself running out of air earlier, but now it was a bit too late. The last thing she saw before her eyes fluttered close was a lasso of red silk, sinking faster than both her and the water bug, and when the silk wrapped around them¨C
Someone thumped her chest once, making her jolt upright while sputtering a mouthful of water. Alice was kneeling next to her, grinning. ¡°Not bad at all,¡± the Hasharana said. ¡°Now uncle has enough ingredients to work with for the rest of the month.¡± ¡­ She was sitting on sand. Her goggles had been yanked off. Incoherents shouts and ramblings around her stabbed through her ears like icicles. Her lungs began to expand and fill up with air, but just inhaling made her gasp painfully, hacking and coughing and doubling over to the side with her elbows supporting her weight. She barely had time to mentally register that, while she¡¯d been pulled up and saved by Alice, she was still very much in shock from having nearly suffocated in a pit of bug carcasses. ¡­ Where is she? Pushing against the ground, her arms felt like jelly, but she managed to swivel her head around. The gargantuan water bug was lying on its back a fair ten metres away, still half-submerged in the oasis, but surrounded by about forty men and women staring incredulously at it. Uncle Safi was already standing on its abdomen, cutting off its legs methodically to use for his own tavern. The abnormal sight wasn¡¯t what she was looking for, though, and she sighed a breath of relief when she saw the little girl lying on the sand a mere few paces away, a dozen grown men carefully hoisting her onto a butterfly wing stretcher. The girl¡¯s left knee was tightly bandaged with what looked like glowing red silk, nigh-indistinguishable from solidified blood¡ªshe may still be hissing and groaning and trying to squeeze tears back into her eyes, but Dahlia just knew she¡¯d be fine. She¡¯d live. The little girl¡¯s mother, however, was still distraught and sobbing as she tried to accompany her daughter¡¯s stretcher to the healing house, so Dahlia looked over and tried to reach out¡ªAlice, of course, being the one to flick five invisible threads over, wrapping around the mother¡¯s waist and making her whirl around. Ten metres apart, face to face, Dahlia¡¯s eyes softened at the sight of the middle-aged town chief who¡¯d snapped at her for stepping into the oasis with her shoes on two weeks ago. ¡°...¡± And while she might have the breath to speak now, she settled, instead, for an apologetic nod. The chief¡¯s lips quivered, looking almost ready to cry, but then she sent a ghost of a smile back and dipped her head in return¡ªwhirling immediately with two guards supporting her arms to follow her daughter to the healing house. ¡°... That¡¯s not Madamaron, is it?¡± Dahlia muttered, closing her eyes as she fell back on the sand, resting her aching spine. ¡°It¡¯s just¡­ a random water bug that chose to attack right at the end of the week, just like Madamaron would, but¡­ it tried to get a fourth victim. Madamaron doesn¡¯t do that. It only kills three people a year, and only three people a year, so why¨C¡± ¡°Something¡¯s changed this year.¡± Alice flicked her head in response, interrupting her. ¡°And you¡¯re right that that¡¯s not Madamaron, but it is a juicy water bug uncle can turn into a delicacy, so good job. Just leave it to uncle to turn it into something delicious.¡± She¡¯d like to ask more¡ªmainly, if the water bug had been trying to impersonate Madamaron by framing it for the death of the little girl¡ªbut right now she just wanted to sleep. The crowd around her didn¡¯t help with that, but Alice did. ¡°Don¡¯t worry. We¡¯ll investigate this ourselves tomorrow,¡± she whispered. ¡°That water bug couldn¡¯t have come from nowhere, so there¡¯s probably a webwork of tunnels underneath the oasis. We¡¯ll dive back down and see what¡¯s going on.¡± Good. After all, if there¡¯s a fourth attack¨C [There is no telling if there will be a fifth, a sixth, and a seventh,] Eria finished. [We can no longer work under the assumption that we will face no attacks for an entire year before Madamaron reawakens. We must be wary of future attacks as we continue investigating.] [... So, frankly speaking,] Issam said, his gold-lined scarf rustling as though he were shaking his head behind her, [this little investigation Alice is doing is turning out to be more troublesome than we thought.]
Arc 6, ¡°Madamaron, The Elusive¡±, End Interlude 10 - Rectidorsius One night, after her father retires early for the night, little Dahlia spots her mother lounging on the roof of their house. Curious, she climbs up and sees a mountain of books surrounding her mother¡ªmost of them written by her father, and she knew her mother wasn¡¯t very good at reading. Her mother notices her and waves her over, and little Dahlia plops down in her mother¡¯s lap. ¡°... No playing with friends today?¡± Eria asks, stroking and trying to straighten her hair, and little Dahlia shakes her head vehemently in response. ¡°What are you reading, mama?¡± Eria harrumphs softly, placing her bandaged hands on her hips. ¡°All of papa¡¯s books on insects, of course! Even I can sit and read properly when it comes to something that¡¯s on everyone¡¯s mind!¡± ¡°I can read, too!¡± ¡°Can you, now?¡± Eria teases, flicking little Dahlia¡¯s nose. ¡°I hear that¡¯s all you¡¯ve been doing in Bug-hunting School recently. Instructor Biem told me. That¡¯s no good at all, you know? You have to play with your friends once in a while¨C¡± ¡°What¡¯s your favourite insect, mama?¡± Little Dahlia is unfazed by her comment. Eria blinks, wondering if her daughter¡¯s going to grow up a recluse, and briefly her expression turns into one of disappointment¡ªabove all else, she couldn¡¯t possibly let little Dahlia grow up alone. But then she remembered she had Sanyon, and the orphanage children he¡¯d been donating half his salary to, and realised: if anyone was going to go within little Dahlia¡¯s lifetime, it was going to be her. Each day she spent with her daughter might very well be her last. ¡°... What¡¯s your favourite insect, Dahlia?¡± she counters, letting go of her encyclopaedia. Little Dahlia immediately looks so proud of herself, smugness hiding underneath a look of feigned ignorance. ¡°I like silkmoths the best!¡± little Dahlia says, prompting a tilt of her head from Eria. ¡°The bug trader in the Bazaar told me about it today! He says it¡¯s a moth with wings that don¡¯t work, but that¡¯s because all the blood that normally goes to its wings goes to its legs instead! It can bleed at will and turn its blood into silk, and then it can use its silk to do all sorts of things! The silk is supposed to be stronger than spider silk as well!¡± Eria smiled nervously. It seems the bug trader just told little Dahlia something completely outrageous¡ªthere were no such insects as ¡®silkmoths¡¯, after all¡ªbut she plays along and nods, looking almost surprised to play the convinced part. ¡°Well, do you wanna guess what my favourite insect is?¡± she asks, on her lips her usual smile, but the glint in her eyes is mischievous¡­ she hoped. ¡°How about this: I¡¯ll give you hints, and if you guess it correctly before I tell you all of them, I¡¯ll lend you some money to buy bloodberry candies.¡± Little Dahlia¡¯s face lit up. ¡°Okay! I¡¯ll guess it for sure!¡± Eria chuckles; little Dahlia didn¡¯t know what was in store for her. ¡°... I am teardrop-shaped, usually black, brown, red, or orange,¡± she began, and little Dahlia¡¯s face starts puffing up like a mushroom. ¡°I am always warm, never cold. No blues, no pinks, no purples. I hate the cold and thrive in humidity. Like most other insects, I make sound by rubbing its proboscis¡ªstridulation is the official term¡ªbut unlike most other insects, I don''t rely on this to discourage my enemies. What am I?¡± This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. ¡°You¡¯re a¡­ uhh¡­ you¡¯re a¨C¡± ¡°When I kill, I am proud,¡± she continues, unfurling her bandaged hands and tightening her fingers into claws, growling at little Dahlia teasingly. Little Dahlia giggles, shuffling around in her lap. ¡°I like to cleave. I like to dismantle. When I kill, I wear the parts of my enemies and strut around with their wings. Pity a moth that can¡¯t fly? I¡¯ll pick apart a butterfly and take its wings. Pity a beetle that can¡¯t turn itself over? I¡¯ll pick a cricket apart and put its legs on my back. Pity a spider that¡¯s lost its arms? I¡¯ll pick a thousand spiders apart and have as many arms as I want. What am I?¡± ¡°Something that can fly¡­ something that can turn itself over¡­ something with a thousand arms¨C¡± ¡°I¡­ don¡¯t exist anymore, I don¡¯t think,¡± Eria says, smiling softly, wistfully. Her mind doesn¡¯t know if what she¡¯s saying is true; her heart knows it is. ¡°I am hated. I am despised. I carry the carcasses of a thousand enemies, and I never let go of them. I am the butcher and the grave. I cannot let the dead rest in peace, I construct imaginations, hallucinations, and I pretend they live to free me from the guilt of slaughter. I bring down worms and monsters, I bring an empire to its heels, I fight on par with a Great Mutant, and I¡­. I am¡­ ¡°... ¡°... I am of the Hemiptera order, and my name comes from ¡®remnant¡¯ for all the bugs that remain on me,¡± she finishes, placing a hand on frightened little Dahlia¡¯s head as she did. ¡°I am known by many names, but all mean the same thing. I ambush. I assassinate. Sometimes, I do it in broad daylight, and nobody can stop me. I am terror incarnate, and the world that stands before me is made for me to unmake. What am I?¡± ¡°...¡± Little Dahlia looks directly up to stare at her, eyes faint, bleary, and weary. Eria caresses her daughter¡¯s head softly, a wide, triumphant grin pulling onto her face. ¡°Can¡¯t figure it out, hm?¡± ¡°N-No!¡± little Dahlia says, turning around and pounding her thighs with teensy, tiny fists. ¡°Just¡­ give me a few seconds! I¡¯ll figure it out! Teardrop-shaped, black, wears insect carcasses on its back, and is super scary to look at¡­ why do I feel like I¡¯ve heard¡­ or seen it¡­ before¡­¡± But little Dahlia doesn¡¯t finish her sentence. It¡¯s quite late, after all, and she has had a long day training in school¡ªheaving, Eria stands and picks her up, carrying her back down to the living room. She is about to lay little Dahlia down on the sofa when she spots Sanyon sitting by the dining table, tinkering with a pocket watch. ¡°... I thought you were sleeping?¡± she asks, pulling a blanket over little Dahlia. Sanyon grunts back, leaning back in his chair as he drops his chisel and hammer. ¡°It''s her birthday coming up again,¡± he says, sighing as he gestures vaguely at the watch in front of him, rubbing his eyes. ¡°I''ve hit the limit of my capabilities. I can''t dismantle this and start over without destroying the internal array. Damnit, I thought I could make a watch that also functions as a hand warmer when she¡¯s really cold, but if it¡¯s proving to be so troublesome, maybe I have to settle for something less¨C¡± Eria takes one look at the watch, and her vertical irises narrow. Her bandages tear as she flicks only her left hand out, each of her claws moving with a mind of their own¡ªby the time Sanyon finishes rubbing his eyes, the pocket watch is already dismantled, and its components laid out neatly across the table. ¡°... Is it your eyes, or is it your hands?¡± he asks, craning his head back to look at her. ¡°If I guess correctly, can you buy me bloodberry candies, too?¡± She raises a brow. ¡°What do you think?¡± It¡¯s¡­ your hands. Your assassin bug claws move on their own.¡± He muses for a moment, holding his chin. ¡°You know, if you had four hands, wouldn¡¯t you be able to dismantle this house in an entire second? Why don¡¯t we pick apart this house and move next to the garden so we can fish tomorrow?¡± ¡°...¡± Then she whacks him on the head, smiling slyly. ¡°... Go to sleep already.¡± - Scene from Sina Household past Interlude 11 - Simplicivenius ¡°... Your lever isn¡¯t nailed in properly inside the locket. The quick-release mechanism will jam when the user tries to draw the sword.¡± Little Dahlia whirls in her chair, startled. Her father is standing by the Bug-Hunting School¡¯s second-year classroom¡¯s doorway. He doesn¡¯t usually show up here unless he¡¯s making something for one of the fifth-year students at Instructor Biem¡¯s request; he anticipates her question and nods, limping towards her seat next to the windows. ¡°A fifth-year broke his remipede gauntlets, so Biem called me in to fix it,¡± he says, sighing a heavy breath of relief as he plopped down in the chair in front of her, turning around. She tries to scoop in all the parts scattered across her desk, but he picks up the unfinished scabbard before she can hide anything, scrutinizing it with half-sunken eyes. ¡°Do they teach you how to make Swarmsteel when you¡¯re only a second-year? I hope they¡¯re not grading you on the quality. Great Makers know there are only five people in Alshifa qualified to grade Swarmsteel, so if Biem gives you a hard time, I¡¯ll tell him off.¡± She looks away sheepishly, shaking her head. ¡°It¡¯s not¡­ graded.¡± ¡°No? Then you¡¯re making this just for fun?¡± She nods. ¡°For who?¡± ¡°... Issam,¡± she mutters. ¡°He said, most likely, that the Instructors are going to give him and Raya early picks for their personal Swarmsteel, so he wants to try out lots of different Swarmsteel before he has to choose. I¡­ want to make something he could find useful.¡± Her father hums, turning the scabbard around to inspect the other side. ¡°So you copied the design of the cricket leg scabbard you saw being sold in the Bazaar two weeks ago. You should know that design only works for a chained staffblade. Issam likes straight swords and stuff, doesn¡¯t he?¡± ¡°Uh¡­ huh.¡± ¡°So, conceptually, this scabbard won¡¯t be the right Swarmsteel for him,¡± he says, placing the scabbard down and reaching into his doctor¡¯s coat for his gloves. ¡°You want something tough. Robust. The quick-release mechanism you have here will make it so a chained staffblade will whip out the moment it¡¯s unsheathed, but you don¡¯t ¡®whip¡¯ a sword out like a flail, do you? You ¡®draw¡¯ it, and you cut a straight line from the chape to the locket of the scabbard¡ªthe moment the blade comes out, it has to carry momentum and bleed sharpness from the edge.¡± He looks up briefly and winks at her. ¡°Like this.¡± She pulls out her pocket watch and turns the dial. He pulls out his own and thumbs the button. Two watches tick down in sync, but she knows his watches count down from two minutes instead of one. After all, her father was getting paler and paler by the day, and her mother, too¡ªtheir hands were no longer as nimble as they once were, and there were times when she''d have to holler right in her father''s ears just to wake him up for dinner. What he could once make in a single minute, he now needed two. Even still, his two minutes aren''t the same as her two minutes. His right hand splits her scabbard in half while his left hand lays out all the parts she''d used to cobble it together: leather-wrapped brass for the foundation of the scabbard, heated quivertail wings for the straps to make it meld with human skin, bouncy scorpionfly chitin for the chape so the blade wouldn''t be dulled at the tip, and normal steel for the locket where the blade''s handle would be resting against at all times. The shape of the scabbard itself didn''t need any changes, and her father hums in agreement. It''s a good enough foundation to work off of; the real difficulty lies in figuring out how to make the unique mechanism work. Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more. Originally, her plan was to line the insides of the scabbard with a bunch of springs and cricket leg levers, and it''d be spring-locked so that the unsheathing motion would send the blade whipping out with the force of a flail. Her father had guessed that part correctly. The problem she couldn''t solve, then, was making sure all twelve levers would push the blade out at the moment of unsheathing without jamming somewhere along the way. If even one of the levers jammed, the blade wouldn''t unsheathe, and the scabbard would fail in its duty as a Swarmsteel. Her father has another plan, another vision; she sees it, eyes glimmering, as he breaks the complicated cricket leg levers she''d spent twelve hours making. Strangely, she feels no spur of anger seeing her hard work destroyed in a single moment. Her father glances at her and smirks tiredly, rolling his shoulders to dispel his tension before getting back to work reconstructing the cricket legs into something else entirely: a vertical, zigzagging saw blade the length of the entire scabbard. Tentatively, he places the saw blade on the inside edge of the split scabbard, snapping his fingers at her for the nails. She fumbles for a second before handing him her hammer as well, and he starts nailing the saw blade in place, making sure it''s perfectly aligned along the length of the scabbard. Then he places both halves of the scabbard over each other and nails them back together. Then he sharpens the chape and the locket with his scalpel. Then he polishes the straps with his gloved fingers, rubbing coarse grains off that''d interfere with its melding onto human skin¡ªand then he drops the scabbard the instant his pocket watch rings, leaning slowly back in his chair. ¡°... Get me a sword from the mountains of scrap over there ¡± She obliges, bouncing off her chair and retrieving a spare steel sword her classmates had been using in training recently. The sword is dull, rusty, and reeks of sweat in her hands; her father laughs as she tosses it to him with a scrunched nose, shivering from head to toe. ¡°Watch,¡± he mutters, as he sheathes the dull blade into the scabbard, ¡°and realise the strength of a Swarmsteel has nothing to do with how complicated it is.¡± Then he looks around at the chalkboard and draws, pulling the blade out in a straight line¡ªand the blade sparks aflame, a line of fire cutting through the board and into the next classroom over. She blinks. He blinks. It appears neither of them expected this outcome. ¡°... Simple is best, after all,¡± he says, coughing into his fist as he tosses the gleaming blade away, slapping the scabbard back on her desk. ¡°I put a saw inside the scabbard so that when the blade is drawn, it''s automatically sharpened. The way the cricket legs are arranged in that loose zigzag shape as well, the friction of unsheathing is neither increased nor decreased. This means the blade is just going to be permanently sharper henceforth¡­ which is all a Swarmsteel scabbard for a kid really needs to do.¡± Excited, little Dahlia picks up the scabbard and marvels at the tiny saw inside; her father pats her on the head with a wistful smile, sighing softly. ¡°I told you, didn''t I?¡± he said. ¡°Don''t follow a template. Don''t copy something that has already been made. Every Swarmsteel you make must be uniquely ¡®yours¡¯ and ¡®theirs¡¯, and nobody can come in between them.¡± ¡°...¡± Sensing little Dahlia is going to be completely preoccupied with playing with her new scabbard for the rest of the day, he sighs and stands, turning to leave her be in the classroom. She¡¯ll be back home for dinner soon enough. ¡°... Don¡¯t make generic Swarmsteel, Dahlia,¡± he whispers. ¡°Your ones must carve your own destiny.¡± - Scene from Alshifa Bug-Hunting School past Chapter 44 - Mutation Tree There were many things Dahlia could be doing in the morning. She could be harvesting reeds under the sweltering sun, working in the poorly ventilated forge under Smith Jaleel¡¯s stringent orders, or just running errands for whoever needed someone with four arms to haul wares around¡ªinstead, she was dangling off a single crimson silk thread, trying not to bump into the sandstone walls of the well she was being lowered into. [A light touch would not make the well collapse on us,] Eria reassured her. [The thread will not snap, either. It is a blood thread produced by Alice herself. With the townsfolk watching us from above as well, there is no risk of us being abandoned down there.] She gulped back in response, letting out a shuddering breath. It¡¯s still scary, you know? [The height?] The dark. It didn¡¯t matter she had two firefly lanterns dangling off the back of her belt. It didn¡¯t matter Alice was already waiting for her at the bottom with four more lanterns, shouting up at her to hurry down. Sure, a dozen townsfolk may be on standby fifty metres above in case something went wrong, but knowing the light around her could be snuffed out at any given time was more than enough reason for her to feel a little uneasy. To begin with, while she agreed with investigating how that water bug had gotten into the oasis, she didn¡¯t understand why they had to go through the well. [Because it is a hassle if people living on the edge of town have to walk to the oasis just to draw water,] Eria said, pointing a leg forward as she was about to touch down at the bottom, [their ancestors must have dug these tunnels to make the oasis water branch out across the entire town. In that sense, there are many ways for a water bug to invade the oasis via these tunnels.] Biting her teeth, she descended past the narrow shaft, and space opened up the instant she did. It was still dark past the edges of their firefly light, but most assuredly, the bottom of the well wasn¡¯t just a muddy ditch¡ªdark sandstone tunnels extended into the abyss on both her left and right. They weren¡¯t natural tunnels. There were remnants of slates carved into the walls, cracked and rusted metal pickaxes left behind, and were it not for the fifty-metre-tall shaft above her head, she¡¯d otherwise be able to jump and hit the three-metre-tall ceiling with ease. It reminded her of the sewers back in Alshifa; the suffocating humidity in the air was difficult to ignore. Only, even as she finally let go of the thread and landed hard on her pierced ankle¡ªshe winced a little, knowing she probably shouldn¡¯t put so much weight on it until it healed¡ªshe immediately realised the first thing wrong about the bottom of the well. ¡°... Where¡¯s the water?¡± Alice mumbled, her lanterns jangling behind her waist as she knelt and scraped dry sand off the floor. ¡°If this is supposed to be a well, then we shouldn¡¯t even be able to stand at the bottom like this. I¡¯d love to be drowning in cool water instead. Hey, wouldn¡¯t it be fun if there was a current here and we could just ride it out and see where it takes us? We should play here with the kids next time!¡± Dahlia ignored the Hasharana¡¯s ramblings and knelt as well, pinching dry sand between her claws. It really was strange¡ªthey¡¯d asked the townsfolk just a bit earlier about the last time any one of them drew water from the wells around town, and most of them had said the wells were still bursting with water just last night. It wasn''t until the water bug showed itself last night that this morning, the townsfolk woke up and found the wells completely dried up. That meant the water from the tunnels disappeared only after the water bug had been slain. [Considering the fact that the oasis itself does not seem to have raised or lowered in surface level, there are two possible reasons,] Eria said, as she rose to her feet and steeled her eyes at the tunnel on her left; that was the direction the oasis was in. [The first is that the channels where oasis water flows into these tunnels have been clogged for some reason, and water is simply being lost to the sand so the surface level of the oasis is not changing significantly. This is unlikely, however, as I do not see how so much water can be lost to the sand by simple diffusion that the surface level would not rapidly increase. The second and more likely reason, instead, is that¨C] Something is actively digging tunnels at the bottom and draining water from the oasis at the same rate as the well tunnels used to, so we don¡¯t see any change on the surface level, she thought, turning to glance at Alice for a second. The Hasharana stopped playing with the dry sand on the ground and bounced to her feet, nodding firmly. But both reasons wouldn¡¯t occur naturally. Something must¡¯ve interfered with the oasis. [And so we must inspect the channel connecting these tunnels to the oasis with our own eyes.] ¡°... Let¡¯s go, then!¡± Alice said, walking ahead of her cheerily. ¡°Your Archive told you to investigate the channel, right? Mine told me to do the same. I¡¯m trusting you to watch my back, alright?¡± Dahlia grimaced. ¡°I¡¯ll¡­ try.¡± Slowly, quietly, the two of them headed down the left tunnel, leaving the glowing crimson thread behind. While Dahlia was so fixated on glancing around her every few seconds¡ªbeyond paranoid that something would pounce at her from the darkness¡ªAlice kept her head forward, her pace steady, her arms swinging casually. Even when they arrived at their first fork in the tunnels, she didn¡¯t hesitate a single moment before turning right, moving with such confidence Dahlia had no choice but to follow without question. She still frowned, of course, but didn¡¯t voice her worries to the Hasharana. So they arrived at their second fork, and Alice chose the right turn again. They arrived at their third fork, and Alice chose the right turn again. They arrived at their fourth fork, and when Alice chose the right turn once again, Dahlia yanked her back by her dangling hood, forcing a pained urk out of the young Hasharana. ¡°... Hey,¡± she said, voice tight with just a tiny, tiny sliver of unease. ¡°Do you¡­ do you actually know where you¡¯re going, or are you just guessing your turns?¡± And, to her horror, Alice simply shrugged. ¡°I mean, the oasis can¡¯t be that far off,¡± Alice said, grinning back at her, and the shadow cast on the other half of her face was ripped straight from a nightmare. ¡°We¡¯ll get to the oasis if we just keep turning here and there, right? We turned right first, and then we turned¡­ right¡­ and then we turned right¨C¡± [Would you like to open your mutation tree?] Eria asked as Dahlia pushed past the rambling Hasharana, grumbling under her breath. [Now that you have the unallocated points to spare, I believe it is about time you engaged with the other half of your system. The benefits it offers might be useful in this situation.] My ¡®mutation tree¡¯? [This.] As she started walking with Alice following behind her¡ªthe two of them passing by the crimson thread they¡¯d started their journey from¡ªa small subsection of her status screen popped up next to her head. Alice peered forward with interest, but she angled her head in such a way that the Hasharana probably couldn¡¯t see most of it.
[// MUTATION TREE] [T1 Core Mutation | Nymphal Metamorphosis] {T1 Branch Mutation | ???} [T2 Core Mutations | Base Chitin Development | Dagger Antennae] 50P {T2 Branch Mutations | ??? | ???}
¡­ I don¡¯t get any of it. Eria vanished from her shoulder and reappeared on the hovering black boxes, crawling over the word ¡®nymphal¡¯. [Now that you have consumed insect flesh, you can begin unlocking ¡®mutations¡¯ unique to your insect class. There are ten tiers of mutations you can go through, with each tier offering more and more mutations for you to unlock¡ªthe tier one core mutation is always unlocked the moment you consume insect flesh, and for an assassin bug class, yours is ¡®Nymphal Metamorphosis¡¯. You have already been living with this for the past two weeks.] The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement. She knitted her brows together. And what does that do? [Most mutations, when manually unlocked, require at least a day or two of processing by the Swarmsteel System before they can even begin to emerge, let alone develop into a fully-functional part of your body,] Eria explained. [¡®Nymphal Metamorphosis¡¯ makes it so any and all mutations you unlock are almost immediately mutated, while simultaneously reducing the strain of undergoing intense bodily changes¡­ that is to say, it is a ¡®comfort¡¯ mutation. If you were to unlock a tier two core mutation now¡ªand it would cost fifty points to unlock one of them, as indicated on the right¡ªyou would begin mutating right now and have its full functions available to use within a minute.] ¡­ Oh. Her eyes lit up, her fingers tapping her chin. Because true bugs don''t undergo lengthy moulting whenever they have to grow or regenerate lost appendages. They just grow and regenerate as they are. [Correct. Now, seeing as Safi turned the water bug you defeated last night into your breakfast sandwich this morning, please order me to deposit fifty out of your fifty-three points into unlocking the tier two core mutation named ¡®Dagger Antennae¡¯.] She did as she was told, and the twin stabs of pain under her forehead were immediate. By now she¡¯d gotten used to the feeling of controlling two extra arms, so she managed to keep herself from panicking when her hands shot up and felt two little dagger-like nubs starting to poke from her forehead. There was something more important to worry about, anyways; she found herself facing off against the first fork in the tunnels once again, and this time, as her nubs slowly lengthened and curled back over head like reins someone could pull on from behind, she ¡®felt¡¯ there¡¯d be more empty space if she picked the left tunnel to go through instead. It was just a feeling. A tingle in her antennae. She trudged down the left tunnel, dragging Alice along with her so there¡¯d be no chance of them getting separated.
[T2 Core Mutation Unlocked: Dagger Antennae] [Brief Description: You have grown dagger-like antennae out of your forehead. Your senses have grown more attuned to the world around you. Scales exponentially with increases in perceptivity] [Unallocated Points: 53 ¡ú 3]
[¡®Dagger Antennae¡¯ and ¡®Base Chitin Development¡¯ are generic mutations most insect classes have as their tier two core mutations,] Eria said. [As their names suggest, they are mutations that force the growth of antennae and chitin in your natural body. The type of antennae and chitin you develop is based on your specific insect class, but for the vast majority of people, they serve about the same function. I believe¡­ that while Alice does, indeed, possess moth antennae, her exact insect class is in the unfortunate minority of possessing extremely weak and insensitive antennae.] Dahlia stole a peek back at the Hasharana, eyeing the long, comb-like antennae jutting out and curling backwards from her forehead. But hers are so big. You¡¯d think they¡¯d let her feel out which path would take her closer to the oasis. [There is no ¡®ultimate¡¯ insect class,] Eria chided. [A Hasharana may be powerful in certain aspects, but in others, even a simple soldier with a normal Swarmsteel System may outperform her. For another example¨C] ¡°I have wings under my cloak, but I can¡¯t fly, you know?¡± Alice chirped, interrupting at just the right moment. Dahlia couldn¡¯t help but shudder as the Hasharana skipped up next to her, fanning her cloak back to show her the folded red and black wings underneath; they were almost perfectly camouflaged with the rest of her cloak. ¡°See? I actually have massive wings, but I dipped my hands in the unfortunate lot and came out with something that just adds to my weight without doing much in return. I can unfurl them for a few seconds to scare insects away if I really need to, but if I have to keep flapping them, I¡¯ll run out of stamina really quickly.¡± ¡°... Right.¡± [The Hasharana¡­ is correct,] Eria said slowly, hesitantly, as though trying not to match Alice¡¯s beat. [Whatever insect class she has, she is not adept at this sort of blind navigation. She may have other mutations to help her find her way in other situations, but in dark and narrow spaces, your assassin bug antennae¡ªwhile not the most keen and sensitive of antennae¡ªwill be far more effective than hers.] They came across a second fork in the tunnels, and this time, the tingling sensations in her antennae told her to veer right. But if she has a high enough perceptivity level, her insensitive antennae wouldn¡¯t matter, right? [Correct. Most mutations scale with your attribute levels. An insect¡¯s antennae¡¯s sensitivity is usually ten times the rest of their body¡¯s sensitivity, so since you have five levels in perceptivity, your antennae specifically have around fifty levels in perceptivity,] Eria said. [For your reference, ¡®Base Chitin Development¡¯ would make chitin grow over your skin, and the amount of chitin grown scales with your toughness level. There is another feature I have yet to explain as well¡ªthat being unlocking ¡®branch mutations¡¯¡ªbut for the time being, you can simply leave those be. Focus on unlocking your core mutations up to tier four first, and then you can look into unlocking the smaller branch mutations.] Her head was a bit doozy with all the new information, but she felt she¡¯d managed to absorb most of it in stride. Got it. So¡­ now I have super sensitive antennae, and if I increase my perceptivity level, they¡¯ll also increase in sensitivity. Eria hummed in approval. [And the Hasharana might not have a particularly high perceptivity level to begin with. I feel, apart from the points she has put into unlocking mutations, that she has most of her attribute levels in dexterity¨C] ¡°Yep. My dexterity level is almost double that of all my other attribute levels combined,¡± Alice interrupted once again, crimson eyes boring holes into Dahlia¡¯s as she tilted her head and spoke. ¡°What else is your Archive saying? I¡¯d love to know what another Archive thinks about me. Hey, do you think we should just let our Archives talk to each other and see if they¡¯ll figure anything out about what we might find at the end of these tunnels?¡± Dahlia bit her lips, turning left at the right fork and letting go of Alice¡¯s wrist as she did. ¡°No¡­ no need. We¡¯ll see once we get near the oasis. You can just stay behind me and¨C¡± ¡°I think I¡¯m close to figuring out how your brain works as well!¡± Alice said, snatching her wrist and skipping ahead to drag her forward this time. The Hasharana turned and smiled at her with her own face; it¡¯d never stop being eerie to see such a perfect reflection of her face on someone else¡¯s head. ¡°Hey, you should unlock ''Base Chitin Development'' as well! It''s a handy mutation to have, since, you know, you never know when you need to block a bullet or an arrow flying at the back of your head! Having chitin plates growing everywhere that also scale with your toughness level will definitely be useful!" ¡°...¡± Eria didn¡¯t provide an explanation, and she didn¡¯t press her Archive to do so either. She knew she was being overly cautious of somebody who was supposed to be her ally, but the way Alice was steadily predicting everything Eria was saying inside her head made her feel¡­ concerned, to say the least. It was good enough for now that she had a basic understanding of her mutation tree, and that she had antennae to feel out the correct tunnels with¡ªshe could finish the rest of her conversation with Eria when Alice wasn¡¯t around. [... But you have grown remarkably comfortable with the idea of mutating insect traits, huh?] Eria muttered, prompting her to glance over at the little black bug on her shoulder. What do you mean? Eria looked up at her pointedly. [In Alshifa, you would have preferred cobbling four life-draining Swarmsteel together to increase your perceptivity over unlocking a single antennae mutation.] Then the little black bug tilted its head, giving her a look of curiosity. [I would like to ask, before we proceed any further: am I still talking to Dahlia Sina, daughter of Sanyon and Eria Sina, or am I talking to ¡®Dahlia Sina¡¯, the assassin bug who carries the corpses of Alshifa in a single human vessel?] ¡­ [... Come now, Archive,] Issam chided, whispering on her left, [as if our ¡®Make-Whatever¡¯ could be anything but our ¡®Make-Whatever¡¯. She is Dahlia Sina, the very same one you met down in the sewers¡ªcan¡¯t you tell just by looking at her?] [You¡¯ve spent the most ¡®intimate¡¯ time with her out of all of us here,] Amula said, swerving over to her right. [Surely you recognise your own Dahlia? She even fixed that Swarmsteel for that girl last night. Can anyone but the ¡®Make-Whatever¡¯ do that?] [Don¡¯t be silly,] Ayla chimed in. [Dahlia can vouch for us right now,] Aylee agreed. [Thweet!] Jerie added, unhelpful once more. [But, well, it doesn¡¯t matter if she acknowledges ''us'' or not,] Raya said, almost dismissively. [She will carry ''us'' to our desired end all the same. That is what an assassin bug does. Oh, Archive, you should have known better than to push her to devour insect flesh. Once ¡®we¡¯ are awakened, ¡®we¡¯ will not slumber¨C¡± ¡°Quiet, all of you,¡± Dahlia breathed, her head aching, her eyes focused purely ahead. ¡°We¡¯re close to the end.¡± Both of them immediately slowed down; surely, even Alice felt the massive open space in front of them. ¡°I detect life signals in front of us,¡± Alice whispered back. ¡°Ten¡­ twenty¡­ thirty of them. Stay behind me, alright?¡± Dahlia didn¡¯t need telling twice. They were close enough to the cavern in front of them that she could see soft blue light being emitted from the bioluminescent reeds growing on the walls¡ªand both of them ground their walking pace to a halt right at the edge of the tunnel, turning the dials on their firefly lanterns to dim their orange light as they peered down at the cavern. Immediately, she figured out what was going on. Normally, the large cavern several dozens of metres below them was supposed to be the bottom under the bottom of the oasis, and it was supposed to be filled to the brim by the small columns of water trickling in through holes in the sandstone ceiling overhead. The water that¡¯d fill up the cavern would eventually overflow into the dozen or so tunnels carved into the walls¡ªbut now there were other tunnels at the bottom of the cavern, draining all the water deeper underground so nothing could flow into the usual, horizontal-running tunnels. And, even without the bioluminescent reeds growing on the walls of the cavern, she felt she¡¯d be able to recognise the mass of skittering bugs underneath her, digging and scraping away at the sandstone bottom to open even more tunnels. ¡°... Fog-bask beetles,¡± Dahlia whispered, gripping her own arms. ¡°I guess we found the ones draining the water from the well tunnels, huh?¡± Chapter 45 - Bombyx Mandarina Even with the bioluminescent reeds growing on the walls of the cavern, Dahlia recognised the pure black mass of skittering bugs beneath her. Fog-bask beetles. There were more than thirty of them standing on their heads, lifting their dorsal sides to catch as much oasis water trickling down from the ceiling as they could. The water trickled down the natural grooved ridges on their backs, sliding down to their mouths, and then they fed it all into the newly dug tunnels leading deeper underground¡ªfar, far, far beneath the Sharaji Oasis Town, to a place no human could reach without being crushed by the subterranean pressure. Suddenly, one of the fog-bask beetles stopped collecting water from the ceiling and snapped its head up; Alice yanked her neck back with an invisible thread, pulling her away from the edge of the tunnel she was peering down at them from. ¡°... Well. Even I get what¡¯s going on here now,¡± Alice mumbled, peeking over the edge with just the top of her head as Dahlia choked on her thread. ¡°So there¡¯s a bunch of giant bugs living at the super bottom of the town, and then they dug tunnels up here to start draining water from the bottom of the oasis. These beetles are all of the same species, so they¡¯re probably one big team, but the water bug that attacked you last night was probably just a straggler that climbed up the tunnels with them. It was a bit greedier than these beetles. It wanted more than water, so it tried to eat you and that little girl by actually surfacing on the oasis.¡± Dahlia managed to untangle herself from the invisible thread, rubbing her neck and frowning as she did. ¡°But¡­ fog-bask beetles aren¡¯t colony insects. They don¡¯t typically live and work together. How were they coexisting with a water bug all the way down¡­ wherever they all came from?¡± Alice glanced around, giving her a puzzled look. ¡°I thought you dealt with one in Alshifa. You should know what can compel a bunch of giant insects that don¡¯t typically work together to move like a coordinated army.¡± [... Madamaron lives at the bottom of those tunnels, then,] Eria said, and Dahlia tightened her lips. [Mutants are powerful enough to draw giant insects of every variety towards them. You can think of them as generals of the otherwise ¡®mindless¡¯ Swarm.] ¡°Like the Mutant firefly,¡± she whispered. ¡°But that one was different, wasn¡¯t it? All the bugs in Alshifa came out from that one cocoon, so they were already in a team. Can all Mutants just¡­ attract completely different species of giant insects towards them and have them dig tunnels like this?¡± Alice shook her head. ¡°There¡¯s a spectrum the Hasharana use to grade Mutants,¡± she said curtly. ¡°The Mutant firefly that I was tracking down was on the weaker end of the spectrum, so it probably wouldn¡¯t be able to attract lots of giant insects outside of the ones in the same cocoon, but if it¡¯s so strong that it¡¯s bordering on the verge of becoming a ¡®Lesser Great Mutant¡¯, then Madamaron could probably get fog-bask beetles and water bugs to work for it.¡± Dahlia tilted her head. ¡°A Lesser Great Mutant?¡± ¡°What, your Archive didn¡¯t tell you?¡± Alice said, raising a brow as she started pulling crimson threads from her nails; all four of her hands moved independently. ¡°There are three types of Mutants. The firefly you killed is the weakest version called¡­ well, it¡¯s just called a ¡®Mutant¡¯. It¡¯s kinda smart, it looks kinda humanoid, and it has a few strange abilities. In the grand scheme of things, they¡¯re not too strong, though¡ªtons of Mutants die on the frontlines of the Seven Swarmsteel Fronts every single day. All Hasharana are expected to be able to kill one by themselves as well, so if Madamaron is just a normal Mutant, this will be an easy job.¡± Then she paused for a second, staring down at her hands as she started weaving something out of thin air; Dahlia couldn¡¯t tell what it was just from the skeleton of the construct, but she felt it was some sort of¡­ weapon. Was she weaving some sort of blade out of silk? ¡°The more threatening version is called a ¡®Lesser Great Mutant¡¯, and these are the ones with names assigned to them by the Hasharana,¡± Alice continued, eyes flickering back and forth as she twirled all twenty fingers with expert precision, weaving not one, not two, but four swords out of silk. ¡°Lesser Great Mutants can talk. That¡¯s the main distinction between them and normal Mutants. Because they can talk, they can also adapt to human strategies much faster than their weaker variants, so thank the Great Makers there aren¡¯t a lot of them on the continent. It usually takes at least two Arcana Hasharana to deal with one of them.¡± It was Dahlia¡¯s turn to pause, freezing where she stood. It wasn¡¯t like she was moving much to begin with, but she felt if she even so much as made a squeak on the sandstone floor, the horde of fog-bask beetles below her would be alerted to her presence. ¡°The last version is called a ¡®Great Mutant¡¯, but, judging from the look on your face, you already know what that is,¡± Alice finished, and, in the silence of the tunnel, lifted four crimson curved swords each as long as she was tall; she grinned back at Dahlia, and there was real bloodlust in her eyes. ¡°Whether Madamaron is a Lesser Great Mutant or just a normal Mutant bordering on the verge of one isn¡¯t important. As a Hasharana, my job is simply to slaughter every bug I see¡ªso just stay up here and watch, okay?¡± ¡­ Dahlia didn¡¯t properly process what Alice said until she snapped her head and looked, mouth parted in surprise. ¡°... What are you going to¨C¡± Alice dragged her blades against the sandstone walls, making her entrance as obnoxiously loud as possible to drag every fog-bask beetle¡¯s attention towards her¡ªand by the time they realised they weren¡¯t alone in the cavern, she¡¯d already leaped thirty metres down onto one of their heads, jamming all four blades through its grooved chitin. With a cacophony of guttural screeches, the beetles came alive. Dahlia felt water droplets flying into her face as they started jerking themselves around, each of them five-metre-class giants with more mobility than they appeared to have; their horrendously long hind legs gave them reach and speed like no beetle she¡¯d ever seen. They bunched together and crawled on each other and spit balls of water each solid enough to put dents in the walls of the cavern, and Dahlia pulled herself from the edge of the tunnel, just narrowly avoiding getting her head blown off by a stray water ball. They¡¯re strong! And there¡¯s thirty of them! [They will be a good source of points,] Eria said, nodding on her shoulder. [Hauling them up to Safi would be an arduous task in and of itself, but it will be worth the effort. You should try to negotiate with the Hasharana and see if she will let you eat most of them.] ¡­ Aren¡¯t you too calm for this? Eria raised her front legs, feigning a nonchalant shrug. [She told you to watch, did she not?] .... Alice did. She¡¯d just been trying not to. One moment, the Hasharana was standing on the head of a beetle, and in the next she was twirling through the air, four blades spinning around her in blinding crimson arcs. When she jumped, it took less effort than skipping off the ground. When she swung her blades, it was more graceful than how Dahlia used her claws. The cavern rumbled with each beetle felled, legs severed, heads decapitated and carapaces carved open in crosses. With two swords guarding her back as though they had minds of their own, she moved nimbly, her wing-like cloak fluttering after her and struggling to catch up¡ªher lithe and bony figure betraying the expectation of a weak and frail little girl. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. Each of her swift and heavy blows was as powerful as the last. [She cannot be that much older than you, I think,] Eria mused, resting its head on her shoulder as the two of them stared quietly down, [but the very fact that there is a Hasharana her age means the Worm God is getting desperate. Even a child must become a wandering bug-slayer now.] Dahlia frowned. When one of Alice¡¯s swords was caught in a beetle¡¯s mandibles mid-swing, she thought the Hasharana might drag the blade through with sheer, brute force¡ªbut instead the blade was let go, and a wriggling mass of blood silk burst out of Alice¡¯s nails, twirling into a completely different weapon in the span of a single second. A spiked mace. In a single, smooth movement, Alice leaped onto the beetle chewing on her sword and bashed its head open with her mace. Her new weapon bent almost immediately. Its construction was rushed and hurried, after all, so when four more beetles piled on her at the same time, she slapped her remaining three swords together and disappeared under their bulky bodies for half a second¡ªhalf a second later, there was a flash of crimson light. The heated visage of a wandering bug slayer. All four beetles were cleaved in half by the massive staffblade Alice swung with four hands, their bodies flying back and slamming into another small group of beetles to crush them against the walls. [... Ah,] Eria muttered, as Dahlia bit her nails and watched Alice switch through a dozen more silk-woven weapons in the span of half a minute; there were all manners of swords, daggers, axes, spears, and some so strangely shaped she couldn¡¯t even begin to put a name to them. [Although I cannot access certain information as long as I am an unregistered Altered Swarmsteel System, the last time I received a system update was three years ago, when the twenty-first Arcana Hasharana was officially chosen by the first Arcana Hasharana, ¡®The Fool¡¯s Undeath¡¯. If she is still alive today, she would be¡­ fourteen years old. Same as you.] Dahlia¡¯s eyes drifted slowly across the cavern of carcasses below with an odd mix of awe and¡ªunsurprisingly¡ªfear. The four-armed crimson Hasharana was still wearing her face, after all. [As the sole survivor of the ¡®Hasharana Academy Breach¡¯ event eight years ago, where three hundred and seventeen Hasharana students in training were slaughtered by an unnamed Lesser Great Mutant, the twenty-first Arcana Hasharana possessed a unique class¡­ an extinct variant moth species by the name of ¡®Bombyx Mandarina¡¯,] Eria continued, head tilted up as though it were looking and reciting from a status screen in the air even she couldn¡¯t see. [Her unique set of mutations allowed her to congeal her blood and turn it into silk, which she used to weave weapons on the fly and dominate the Hasharana Entrance Exam three years ago. Owing to her formless fighting style, her silk¡¯s incredible adaptability, and her utter lack of a single coherent personality during the final interview, she was given the title of ¡®Hangman¡¯s Mimic¡¯: the girl of a hundred faces, and the youngest Arcana Hasharana to ever grace the ranks beneath the Worm God¨C] Alice dashed back up to the edge of the tunnel with a funnel of wind, licking blood off her lips as she unwound her silk weapons and blinked straight at Dahlia. For her part, Dahlia didn''t move. Didn''t breathe. She didn''t think¡­ that her face could look so empty. ¡°... I have just the faintest feeling your Archive is saying something bad about me!¡± Alice chirped a moment later, tugging a cheery smile onto her lips as she flicked a hand behind her; a single red thread descended into the mountain of carcasses, a trail marker to remind herself how to get back to this cavern. ¡°Well, we''re done here. I''ve plugged the tunnels leading deeper underground with their corpses for now, so if the wells run dry again, we¡¯ll know exactly where to cut down the bugs. Give or take a few days and this cavern will be completely filled with water again, so let¡¯s lug about ten bugs out of here and give them to uncle¡ªI¡¯m sure he¡¯ll make us something reasonably tasty with how watery these beetles already are!¡± With that, Alice started skipping back through the tunnel, extending the thread under her nail as she walked. She¡¯d really leave all the beetles behind if Dahlia didn¡¯t cough and call out to her, making her glance around with a playful eye. ¡°What?¡± she asked. ¡°We¡¯ll come back for them later. We have about an entire day to haul ten beetles to the surface. It¡¯s more important that we don¡¯t forget how to come and leave this cavern¨C¡± ¡°I can remember,¡± Dahlia said, biting her lips as she turned to peek down at the mountain of carcasses. ¡°But¡­ Madamaron has to be at the bottom of those tunnels, right? That water bug and these beetles were working on its orders, so¡­ if you¡¯re this strong, can¡¯t you just go down there right now and kill it?¡± Alice¡¯s lips thinned into a line. ¡°And fight what could be a Lesser Great Mutant in its home territory? No thanks. There are ranks even among the Arcana Hasharana, you know¡ªmaybe Judgement or Magician can beat a Lesser Great Mutant solo, but I¡¯m not there yet. I need to copy more weapons and fighting styles before I can even think about challenging a Lesser Great Mutant in its home territory. That¡¯s where you come in!¡± Dahlia pointed at herself, wobbly and unsteadily. Alice winked and started walking forward again, fully intent on leaving her behind at the edge of the tunnel. ¡°I checked with my Archive!¡± Alice said, carefree as ever. ¡°Your class is an ¡®extinct¡¯ class dangerous enough that the Worm God had to personally redact a ton of information even I can¡¯t access, so I wanna know what makes you so special! You¡¯ve gotta have a special fighting style or ''weapon'' worthy enough for me to mimic, right?¡± ¡°...¡± ¡°We¡¯ll haul the beetles up and resume investigations on Madamaron tomorrow,¡± she finished, waving back at Dahlia. ¡°I¡¯m not fighting it down there, so while you try to figure out what species it is exactly, I¡¯ll try to figure out how to lure it up to the surface. If it¡¯s on plain, open sand, then maybe I could even beat a Lesser Great Mutant by myself? There¡¯s no rush, though¡ªI¡¯ll eat tons more insect flesh and put more points into my attribute levels first!¡± ¡­ It was quite strange seeing Alice walk away, leaving a single glowing thread behind for her to grasp onto and follow; Dahlia felt as though she simultaneously understood more about the Hasharana, and yet understood even less about her now. Does she think she can copy my ¡®abilities¡¯ if she¡­ wears my face? [I believe that is the case,] Eria mumbled. [I am unable to access updated information currently, but even if I could, I doubt the Archive of Altered Swarmsteel Systems would have any information pertaining to the Hangman¡¯s Mimic¡¯s background. Until you better understand her psyche, I would suggest not poking and prodding into her past¡ªmost of the Arcana Hasharana are rather ¡®volatile¡¯, after all.] She pursed her lips, casting one last look at the cavern behind her before trudging through the tunnel. ¡­ Eria. [Yes?] If Issam¡­ and Raya¡­ and the others were here, she started, lowering her gaze, do you think they would be strong enough to be Arcana Hasharana as well? A long pause. Eria had gotten comfortable with doing that lately. [I don¡¯t know about them, but I am the Godsent Talent of Alshifa,] Raya whispered, interjecting before Eria could reply. [So what if she became an Arcana Hasharana at eleven? I could¡¯ve done it at ten. It wouldn''t have been a problem at all¨C] [Nah, you couldn¡¯t have done it. Now leave her alone and get outta her ear,] Amula grumbled back, and the sound of someone getting kicked in the head made Dahlia giggle. [Don¡¯t think about Alice. Don¡¯t think about ranks and stuff. Right here, right now, just focus on getting stronger yourself¡ªunlock more mutations, increase your attribute levels, and maybe make a few Swarmsteel with all those beetle parts you just got. Madamaron can wait.] ¡­ Alright, she thought, shaking her head to clear her thoughts. Eria might¡¯ve tried to say something on her shoulder, but she didn¡¯t hear it; she¡¯d already made up her mind to focus only on one thing at a time. If we¡¯re forgetting about Madamaron for the time being, though, there¡¯s something I have to do before anything else. She felt as though she could hear Issam perk his ears. [That is?] That little girl who lost her leg, she thought. I wonder¡­ if there isn¡¯t anything I can do for her. Chapter 46 - Melding Another week passed by in what felt like a blink of an eye. If Dahlia wasn''t harvesting reeds from the oasis or helping Smith Jaleel out at the forge, she was getting dragged around the desert by Alice, using all manners of insect meat bait to try to lure Madamaron up to the surface. But there was a chance, however slight, that Madamaron was an intelligent Lesser Great Mutant¡ªand now that Alice had shown off her strength decimating its slave horde of fog-bask beetles, it knew better than to challenge her on her home territory. So, eleven days passed. And no giant insect attacked the Sharaji Oasis Town. They were all at an impasse; having seen the water bug with their own eyes, the reed farmers knew now that there was real danger in the oasis, and as such, they were naturally more timid whenever they had to wade into the deeper ends for thicker reeds. The children and clothes washers stopped hanging around the waters as well, fearing the worst. Sparkling emerald in bright sunlight as it may be, the surface of the oasis was no longer the peaceful, tranquil heart of the town it once was¡ªeven those living near it went the extra distance to draw water from the wells instead, which had completely returned to normal two days after Alice decimated the water thieves at the bottom. The ever-present threat of an attack by something physical and tangible¡ªsomething like a giant insect¡ªwas like a dense fog that''d settled over the town, and while the townfolk¡¯s normal lives were still mostly undisturbed¡­ to Dahlia, it felt like everybody¡¯s eyes were even more closed than usual. If it was Alshifa, the council would¡¯ve made all the Alshifa Bug-Hunting Instructors hunt the giant insects down the moment an infestation is spotted. But then Dahlia shook her head, telling herself it wasn¡¯t good to think this way; the Sharaji Oasis Town was fundamentally different from Alshifa. This was a town that¡¯d never run from the surface world. The people here lived each and every day of their lives knowing the Swarm could be upon them at any time, and they¡¯d made their peace with it. It wasn¡¯t like Alshifa and the other undertowns where they actively made efforts to keep themselves safe and hidden. To the Sharaji townsfolk, death by giant insects was probably as common as death by old age, so it was only natural they wouldn¡¯t feel an urgent need to press on every giant insect that killed one of their own¡ªthere¡¯d be no end to their slaughter and being slaughtered otherwise. The futility of it all was simple: even if every last townsfolk grabbed their saifs and marched out as one to hunt down all the giant insects in the desert, they¡¯d lose. They wouldn¡¯t win. The Swarm far outnumbered humanity in every corner of the continent, so why would they work themselves up over what was just a series of terrible, ¡®natural¡¯ deaths? ¡­ In Alshifa, the entire town goes in mourning for a day whenever someone dies to a giant insect, she thought. But nobody even bats an eye here, huh? Because¡­ it¡¯s just that normal? Eria didn¡¯t hesitate. [It is normal everywhere on the surface. The world will not pause and roll over for just a single death. There is always work that must be done, mouths that must be fed, and ruins to be reconstructed before the next Swarm attack arrives¡ªthe undertowns were fortune in the sense they could afford to take an entire day off whenever someone dies.] Even still. It¡¯s like those three who were murdered by Madamaron were just¡­ forgotten. [...] It was noon. Midday. Lunch break. She¡¯d been let off harvesting work earlier by Mushariff Idan because she already managed to fill up her daily four bucket quota, so her lunch break was actually a bit earlier than everyone else¡¯s¡ªwhile the townsfolk were still running around the streets, the alleys, pulling thicker tarps over their shops and stalls to block out the scorching sun, she alone was sitting with her legs dangling over the edge of a roof, watching the people under her while chewing on a fog-bask beetle sandwich Safi had made for her. She was a little hot and sweaty sitting out in the open¡ªon a superheated sandstone ceiling, no less¡ªbut over the past week, Safi had started stuffing more and more insect meat into her daily meals. She was never much of a heavy eater, so her stomach most definitely appreciated the slight increase in portion sizes every single day¡ªand to that end, she¡¯d deposited almost all of her extra points she gained the past week into increasing her strain limit. More stamina meant she could work longer, harder. Strain limit was also the general ¡®health¡¯ attribute, which meant her skin was less dry during especially midday hours, her head was less doozy during intense heat waves, and she didn¡¯t get sunburnt as often. Hence, why she didn¡¯t even need to throw her hood over her head as she sat on the roof, watching a group of children play Risha ball in the alley right next to her. Alice had told her she wasn¡¯t needed for today¡¯s Madamaron investigations, and the forge was also closed in the afternoon because Smith Jaleel had private matters to attend to, so for the first time in a week, she had the entire rest of the day to herself. Right now, she was looking for¡­ a little girl. And she spotted her target switching in to play Risha ball for the girls¡¯ team as she finished off the last bites of her sandwich. It was evident the other children around the little girl were trying to pretend nothing was wrong, and that all was fine and well; it couldn¡¯t be further from the truth. Dahlia had to clench her jaw when the boys¡¯ team served the first ball over the note, and the little girl in the centre who moved to intercept immediately tripped on her bronze prosthetic leg, falling painfully on her face. The hard ball bounced off the back of her head and pushed her deeper into the ground. Immediately, the girls rushed in to help her up, all of them offering quiet words of consolation, but the girl pulled a smile onto her face and shook her head, nodding at the boys to serve the second ball. They obliged very reluctantly¡ªand the girls¡¯ team managed to return only a single ball before she tripped again, landing so hard on her rear this time she kicked up a small cloud of sand. This time, the little girl didn¡¯t bother letting her friends help her up. She grabbed onto a nearby crate, pulled herself onto her feet, and then trudged away with her head lowered. None of her friends could follow, their faces dark and sullen. ¡­ Before the little girl could disappear deep into the alleys and return home¡ªwherever that was¡ªDahlia slipped off the edge of the roof and landed in front of her, making her flinch. There was silence for a moment. Another moment. Then the little girl rushed in for a hug, nearly tripping into her chest, face burying into her cloak as bony arms wrapped around her back; she couldn¡¯t exactly whisper or talk to the girl the way they were holding each other, but the growing cold on her chest and the quiet, shuddering arms around her was more than enough for her to make up her mind. Gently, Dahlia peeled the girl¡¯s arms off and started leading her out of the alleys. The little girl sniffled behind her the entire time, and she made sure to walk as slowly as possible towards Safi¡¯s tavern at the edge of town. [... As you are right now, it may be too difficult for you to attempt making Swarmsteel prosthetics,] Eria said worriedly, still trying to dissuade her. [External Swarmsteel that you wear and melds with your skin is one thing. Internal Swarmsteel like the ¡®Hundred Devil Bones¡¯ or ¡®Hyperneuron Limbic Strands¡¯ that meld with your insides require considerably more skill and practise to make. Not to mention, the user in question must possess a strain limit high enough to endure the meld. It will be like nothing like anything you have made thus far. If something goes awry¨C] We¡¯ve made preparations to remove it if something goes wrong, right? She thought, trying to placate Eria, though if she were honest with herself she¡¯d also admit her own heart was beating twice as fast as usual. I¡­ I have to try. It¡¯s my fault. If I were stronger or I¡¯d gotten to her earlier, she wouldn¡¯t be like this. [...] You¡¯ll help me and guide me throughout the process, right? [... Of course.] [I am your Archive.] The two of them arrived at Safi¡¯s tavern and walked right in. The establishment was as empty as ever, but that had always served Dahlia and Alice¡¯s purpose well. Today, all the chairs were cleared off to the walls and a few rectangular tables had been pushed to the centre of the tavern, joined together to make a single long table fit for butchering giant beetles on¡ªor to let a little girl lie on top of, a small velvet cushion placed on one end to make resting one¡¯s head on it more comfortable and less¡­ cold. Safi¡¯s tavern was always strangely cool compared to the rest of the town, even though there weren¡¯t any windows or ventilation outside of the single front door. [Best not to think about it,] Ayla whispered. [Focus, Dahlia,] Aylee said. [Make a Swarmsteel prosthetic that functions, no matter how shoddy, and it will be a breakthrough like you¡¯ve never had before.] The little girl swallowed a gulp the moment she stepped into the tavern, but Safi, who was chopping something with his back turned behind the counter, immediately spoke up in Sharaji Tongue. It was a short and curt sentence, but by the time he finished, the little girl¡¯s eyes lit up and she crawled onto the table voluntarily. Dahlia supposed the old man translated what she¡¯d asked him to say perfectly : ¡®I want to make you a new leg¡¯. It wasn¡¯t a promise or anything¡ªshe wasn¡¯t confident she could pull a prosthetic off her first try, but all it took Safi was one look at her fidgeting last night during dinner, while Alice was rambling off about something unimportant, for him to offer her his tavern today. He¡¯d known exactly what she wanted to attempt. Next to the long table the little girl was making herself snug on, there were three more tables spread around it, each lined to the edges with tons of spare parts: some normal steel bolts, bronze plates, and natural adhesives of all types, but mostly grooved chitin sheets she¡¯d torn from the fog-bask beetles. A few other parts littered the corners of the table as well, but they were mostly vials of different beetle blood extracts she didn¡¯t know how to use; she probably wouldn¡¯t use them out of fear of something going wrong. Once she was done walking around the tables and checking on each of the individual parts, she turned and mimed closing her eyes to the little girl. In turn, the little girl did exactly as she asked, fingers clutching onto the edges of the table¡ªshe swallowed a gulp herself and wondered if maybe she should at least tell the little girl¡¯s mother first. But this was going to be safe. It will be safe. And if anything went wrong, she¡¯d just abort the project immediately. ¡­ Eria. [Yes?] Could you count down from¡­ ¡­ ¡­ No. Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. Nevermind. Ignore me. She shook her head and perished the arrogant thought; there was no way she¡¯d be able to finish this within half an hour, let alone a single minute. She¡¯d take this slow and steady. I¡¯m going to need your help measuring the dimensions of her remaining leg, she thought, peering down at the little girl¡¯s current prosthetic leg below the knee. It was made of simple wood, and a bit more complicated than a peg leg: one bronze ball joint allowed for slight movement of the oval slab that was the foot, and leather straps kept the top of the prosthetic joined to her bandaged stump above the knee. The whole thing was flimsy at best; any amount of running or jumping and it¡¯d probably shake right off. At the very least, the one I make needs to be the same length and height as her normal leg. The thickness isn¡¯t important, since its toughness is more dependent on the material I use¡­ right? Eria crawled over her shoulder and stared down at the girl¡¯s normal leg, silent for a moment. [Correct. Swarmsteel prosthetic legs must not put the user at an imbalanced height. Ideally, the Swarmsteel should also be able to grow alongside the user like an organic limb, but¡­ for now, simply making one that cannot be shaken off will be good enough of an upgrade.] Then give me the length. I¡¯ll work on the bones of the leg first. [Understood.] As Eria vanished from her shoulder and duplicated itself fifty times over to form the exact length of the little girl¡¯s leg on the table¡ªan ability it¡¯d never used before¡ªDahlia went over to the bronze plate table to pick out the thinnest and lightest plate she could find. The skeleton and ¡®bone¡¯ of the prosthetic didn¡¯t need to be sturdy; the outer shell and ¡®skin¡¯ of the prosthetic would compensate. With all four hands, she manually bent and rolled up the plates into a tube, using her razor sharp claws to slice off any excess metal in the process. She made sure to carve holes in the sides of the tube here and there as well, and only once she lined it up against the fifty Erias to check its length¡ªconfirming it was just right¡ªdid she let it go to work on the ¡®Swarm¡¯ part of Swarmsteel. She went over to the beetle chitin table and picked out the sturdiest, heaviest sheets. [... I suppose what you are making is not an ¡®internal Swarmsteel¡¯,] Eria muttered as she started bending the beetle chitin sheets by hand once again, sweating and straining her muscles in the process; the chitin was a lot harder than the bronze plates, and for a few seconds she contemplated depositing a few points into increasing her strength. [Internal Swarmsteel, as its name suggests, is almost completely hidden beneath the surface of the body. The ¡®Hundred Devil Bones¡¯ are S-rank Swarmsteel that completely replace the bones in a human body with fire beetle parts, granting the user the strength of a hundred giant fire beetles. ¡®Hyperneuron Limbic Strands¡¯ are also S-rank Swarmsteel that completely replace the nerves in a human limb with grounded long-legged fly eyes woven into strands, granting the user the reflexes of twenty long-legged flies. You can see neither of those from the outside, so since you are making a prosthetic that can clearly be seen, I suppose you are not making internal Swarmsteel.] And that¡¯s why this isn¡¯t a completely futile effort, she thought, gritting her teeth as she accidentally used too much and snapped a chitin sheet in half. She was trying to mould a dozen of them into the shell of the leg that¡¯d go around the bone, so she could spare no effort getting at least the shape looking right. Not a single part of this prosthetic will stab inside her flesh. I¡¯ll make a sheath around the top of the leg that¡¯ll meld with the skin around her stump, and¡­ that¡¯ll be better than what she has now, right? [Certainly,] Eria said, [but without opening her stump and connecting her nerves with the prosthetic, the final prosthetic will simply be a sturdier, tougher leg. It will not be able to transmit sensation to her. Any increase to her strength will not transfer over to the prosthetic, either, which might pose a rather difficult problem. She paused for a moment, half-mulling on Eria¡¯s words, half-trying to focus on carving off excess chitin to make sure each sheet would ¡®click in¡¯ perfectly with one another. A difficult problem? [All Swarmsteel, at the very least, grant one or two attribute levels, remember?] Eria said. [If your prosthetic melds with her successfully and she gains three levels in strength, then the entire rest of her body will be three times stronger. If the Maker¡¯s prosthetic cannot handle that extra increase in strength, it will simply shatter. Even worse, it would not shatter, and that prosthetic limb would simply be a weaker limb compared to the user¡¯s other limbs. Can you imagine running at top with one leg lagging behind the other three times in terms of strength and speed? The imbalance would kill the user in battle.] But¡­ how do you account for that increase in strength? The more she heard about the difficulties of making Swarmsteel prosthetics, the more she didn¡¯t want to hear about it; she felt she had to anyway. When we first met, you told me¡­ that the amount of attribute levels gained from melding with a Swarmsteel depends on both the user aptitude and the quality of the Swarmsteel. Even if I can control the Swarmsteel, I can¡¯t control the user¡¯s aptitude with it, right? [The Great Makers certainly can,] Eria said pointedly. [The Pioneers of the Rampaging Hinterland Front can, and the Hasharana¡¯s Makers certainly can. They take into account the user¡¯s physiology, the material they are working with, calculate beforehand the exact amount of attribute levels the user will gain after melding with their prosthetic, and then make their prosthetic ¡®adaptable¡¯¡ªthat is, using a certain Lesser Great Mutant¡¯s part that makes it so the user¡¯s attribute levels are shared with the prosthetic evenly. If the user gains five levels in strength, the prosthetic gains that strength as well. If the user becomes twice as tough, the prosthetic also becomes twice as tough.] ¡­ [Without that Lesser Great Mutant¡¯s parts¡ªwhich you can only obtain from the Pioneers or the Hasharana¡¯s Makers themselves, since they are the only ones with access to its carcass¡ªyou cannot make ¡®adaptable¡¯ Swarmsteel that can also increase in attribute levels alongside the user,] Eria continued. [That is why I advised you not to try. Making Swarmsteel at their level is not a one-person job¡ªthey have entire teams of mathematicians, engineers, and artisans with relevant construction-based mutations just to create one adaptable Swarmsteel for one specific person. Alone, there is only so much you can calculate and keep in mind as you work to¨C] [Tch. Shut up and just let her try,] Raya grumbled, making her jolt as she finished moulding all the beetle chitin into separate shells. [If she never tries, how will she ever learn what works and doesn''t work?] Issam said, softer this time. Her hands were frozen above the little girl''s long table; all she had to do was wrap the shells around the bronze tube in such a way they wouldn''t easily fall off, but she couldn''t bring herself to even try. [Ignore her, Dahlia. Give it a go. If you can make a Swarmsteel prosthetic that''s at least more responsive than what she has right now, it''ll be worth it.] [Issam¡¯s right,] Amula whispered, a distant voice wrapping around her ears. [She doesn''t need to be able to feel anything with your prosthetic. It doesn''t need to have any special abilities, either. My bombardier beetle boots were comfortable to walk around in, and that''s reason enough for me to want to wear it everywhere I go. That''s¨C] [¨Chey, bitch, I said the exact same thing Issam said too¨C] [¨Cthe type of Swarmsteel the ¡®Make-Whatever¡¯ makes,] Amula finished, [It''s not like the girl''s gonna fight with her prosthetic. It doesn''t have to give incredible attribute levels. Right now, she just needs a leg sturdy enough for her to play Risha ball with, so focus¡ªmake the Swarmsteel that''s right for her.] ¡­ For the second time today, she shook her head to herself and steeled her eyes. Deep breathes, four seconds. Heavy exhales, four seconds. She started ¡®clicking¡¯ the chitin shells around the bronze tube, using the holes she carved in it earlier as anchor points. At the same time, with her remaining two hands, she started moulding two more chitin sheets into the ankle ball joint and the slab foot, connecting them together and then onto the bottom of the tube, using the natural sap adhesives Safi had prepared for her as the glue. She made sure not to lather too much sap on lest both the foot and the ball joint wouldn''t be able to bend or rotate, but that part was easy enough. The hard part was still the shell, and making it so the shells at the top of the leg were extended past the tube like a giant hollow sheathe; that''d be where the little girl''s bandaged slump would slip right in. Despite the words of disparagement, Eria did everything in its power to guide her through the process. She was advised where to shave off excess chitin, where to apply less adhesive sap, and where she should carve a few holes into the shell to account for heat expansion in the desert. It must''ve taken her an entire hour, or maybe even two¡ªbut she eventually had the complete prosthetic leg assembled, and it was easily the most complicated thing she''d ever made. It didn''t exactly look like a ¡®normal¡¯ human leg; it was far too thin, some of the shells were too jagged and crude, and both the ball ankle joint and the slab feet were misshapen, but it looked tough. And it looked like it''d stand. Now, it was time to put it on. Wiping sweat from her brows, she carefully unbuckled the straps of the little girl''s prosthetic, tugging it off the bandaged slump. If she were really confident in her skills, she''d tear the straps off and use them on her own prosthetic as well, but that was just dumb. She''d rather not destroy something Smith Jaleel made in a single busy afternoon as well. If she could speak the Sharaji tongue, she supposed she''d also tell the little girl to stop gripping the edges of the table and relax, but¡­ ¡­ ¡­ She settled for patting the little girl''s head instead. Then, she nudged the sheath of the prosthetic up, gently wiggling the extended plates around to make sure they wrapped snugly around the girl''s stump. To her delight, when it was fitted on as tight as possible, the prosthetic was exactly as long as the other leg. There''d be no imbalance of height. She walked around the table to look at the other sides as well, checking to see if the extended plates were fully in contact with the girl¡¯s skin¡ªand they were. When insect parts came in prolonged contact with human skin, the melding process would eventually begin. It shouldn''t take long for the girl to start showing some sort of physical reaction to her new prosthetic. So she waited a minute. Then another minute. Then another minute¨C [It''s a bust,] Issam said. [Her strain limit is too low. Cut it off now or she¡¯ll die from overload in thirty seconds.] ¡­ What? How do you¨C Maybe it was just another one of Issam¡¯s gut intuitions, but whatever it was, he wasn¡¯t wrong¡ªboth Dahlia and Eria jumped as the girl seemed to wake with a start, a choked cry dying in her throat, her body trembling so hard the entire table shook underneath her. It was only because her fingers were locked in death grips around the edges that she hadn¡¯t flung herself off, but the veins in her thigh that was connected to the prosthetic were glowing red, travelling quickly up her body; Dahlia didn¡¯t need to be a doctor to know that couldn¡¯t possibly be good. Eria! [Cut sheathe plates two, four, and six right under the stump!] She did as she was told and immediately slashed down, her claws cleaving right through the three plates with ease. The prosthetic disconnected in an instant, and light drained from the little girl¡¯s glowing veins so fast she couldn¡¯t help but worry there¡¯d be lingering side effects, but at the very least, the girl wasn¡¯t convulsing and tensing every muscle in her body anymore¡ªand Dahlia swiped her failure of a prosthetic leg off the table, rushing forward to wrap the girl in a tight hug as she reattached the original prosthetic. "... Kari," the girl whispered. And guilt gnawed at her chest as she listened to the little girl sob into her chest, perhaps realising, at long last, that if she couldn¡¯t make her a functioning prosthetic leg, there¡¯d be no one else in the town who could even come close to her attempt. [... Maybe if she ate insect flesh, she¡¯d increase her strain limit,] Ayla suggested. [She can¡¯t increase her strain limit manually, idiot,] Aylee mumbled back. [She doesn¡¯t have a system. If she eats insect flesh, she¡¯ll just mutate into a half-insect. Sure, that¡¯s technically ¡®growing stronger¡¯, but I doubt that¡¯s what she wants.] [Then she¡¯ll live as a cripple for the rest of her life,] Raya said curtly. [Either she eats insect flesh or she never plays Risha ball ever again. It¡¯s her choice. Just tell Safi to whip up something delicious for her, for god¡¯s sake¨C] Someone tapped on her shoulder from behind, and she whirled mid-hug to see old Safi standing there with a plate of amber-coloured round candies. She hadn¡¯t seen or heard him walking around her. ¡°... ''Kari'' means ''home'', and I learned how to make candy,¡± he said plainly, setting the plate on the table next to the little girl before strolling back over to his kitchen, waving back at her. ¡°It¡¯s just sugar and fruit extract. No insect flesh of any kind. Give some to her on your way back to her mom¡ªI hear she¡¯s the village chief¡¯s daughter, so she lives in the southernmost edge of town. It¡¯s the house with four wind chimes dangling outside the front door.¡± With that, he trudged over the counter and back into the kitchen, ever the elusive man. He always knew exactly what to say in any situation to an eerie degree, though¡ªso on that front, she supposed he and Alice were quite alike. [... You should bring her back to her mother for proper rest on a bed,] Eria suggested quietly. [We can make another attempt at a prosthetic once you have more experience and knowledge in making more complicated Swarmsteel.] ¡­ For her part, she only nodded slightly as she continued holding the sobbing little girl in her arms. She didn¡¯t want to stay here and look at her failed Swarmsteel, either. Chapter 47 - Sharaji Chief Finding a sandstone house with four chimes dangling outside the front door was not easy, especially when Dahlia was walking around with the drowsy little girl in her arms, her skin starting to burn up under the sweltering midday sun. Because most of the townsfolk were hunkered under roofs having their own lunches, there weren¡¯t a lot of people wandering about the streets she could ask for directions. It wasn¡¯t like she could speak their tongue in the first place, but she could attempt a mime or two with her extra arms, at the very least¡ªshe¡¯d been running around the southernmost end of town for the past fifteen minutes like an ant that¡¯d lost its antennae, checking door to door while covering the little girl¡¯s face with her extra arms to provide just a bit of shade. Right after checking her fiftieth door, Dahlia rounded a corner and ran into Alice, who was squatting on the ground making a sandcastle in a back alley; her crimson eyes immediately lit up as she noticed the two of them passing by. ¡°Oh? What¡¯s going on here?¡± she asked, demolishing her sandcastle with a swat and bouncing to her feet to walk beside Dahlia, grinning down at the drowsy little girl as she did. ¡°Can¡¯t suppress your appetite anymore? You gotta eat a human? Well, don¡¯t eat a kid. If you gotta pick someone, at least go for one with more nutrients¨C¡± ¡°I thought you said you wanted to investigate Madamaron alone today,¡± Dahlia muttered, a bit light-headed herself as she headed towards her fifty-first door down the street; today was much hotter than usual. ¡°Your investigation is¡­ hunched over in some alley making sandcastles? Really? You left me behind today for a sandcastle?¡± Alice shrugged, sending her a teasing smirk. ¡°Even an Arcana Hasharana needs to take breaks, and there just so happened to be a particularly cool shade in the alley, and the sand there was also particularly sticky and clumped-up¨C¡± ¡°¨CI¡¯m busy, so leave me alone¨C¡± ¡°¨Care you trying to take the girl home?¡± Alice finished, pointing at herself. ¡°I know where she lives. She¡¯s the chief¡¯s daughter, right? I visited the chief when I first came here a few weeks ago, so I think¡­ uh, I still remember the way.¡± Dahlia stopped for a second, squinting at Alice. ¡°Do you really?¡± Alice scratched the back of her ear, averting her gaze. ¡°Uh¡­ yes. I do.¡± ¡°Do you really?¡± ¡°Just follow me.¡± The Hasharana grumbled, evidently displeased as she kicked the sands and walked a few steps ahead, leading the way. Deciding to trust her just a little, Dahlia followed¡ªit wasn¡¯t like she had much choice but to do so anyways, unless she wanted to spend at least fifteen more minutes stumbling around in the sun. So it was that they bumbled around a bit longer¡ªsqueezing between tiny gaps, walking over alleyways filled to the brim with empty crates, and arguing directions every time they made a suspicious turn¡ªbefore they finally found the humble sandstone house with four chimes dangling on a iron rod jutting out the top of the door. Dahlia wanted to shoo the Hasharana away now that she arrived at her destination, but Alice was persistent and clingy, unwilling to part with her as she was goaded into making sandcastles together. They must be causing a ruckus right outside the front door, because within ten seconds the master of the two-storey house yanked the door open, scowling at the two of them standing on her carpet. ¡°...¡± The middle-aged chief, clad in finely embroidered orange silk, looked the two of them over for only a brief moment. In the next, her eyes were wide as she finally noticed her daughter in Dahlia¡¯s arms. She immediately stepped aside and ushered Dahlia into her house with a wave, hesitating to do the same for Alice¡ªthough, on seeing how persistent the Hasharana looked, she had no choice but to relent with a silent grimace. Both of them left their sandals on the carpet outside as the chief closed the door behind them, quickly scooping the little girl out of Dahlia¡¯s arms to carry her up the stairs. The second floor was probably where the little girl¡¯s room was. The first floor and the living room of the chief¡¯s house, then, was¡­ Beyond normal. It was just like any other living room she¡¯d been invited into whenever she had to deliver some of Smith Jaleel¡¯s metalwork to their customers¡¯ houses directly. With sand-tone walls, a wood-panel ceiling, and boring-looking furniture that was just there to fill the space, the chief¡¯s house was thoroughly unremarkable. Dahlia didn¡¯t know what she¡¯d been expecting, but Grandma Ramaba¡¯s was a general amenities store, Smith Jaleel¡¯s was a miniature workshop for him to handle smaller projects, and most of the townsfolk she¡¯d delivered goods to had living rooms that felt¡­ well, lived in. Colourful carpets, reed snacks in pots and baskets, maybe a tapestry hanging on the wall here and there. It was like nobody ¡®lived¡¯ in this house. ¡°... I¡¯m hot. Where¡¯s the water jar in this place?¡± Alice muttered, walking off on her own and disappearing into the back kitchen through flaps of hanging fabric. Dahlia had half a mind to pull her back¡ªit was rude to just search around someone¡¯s house for food and water without asking¡ªbut a peculiar scent in the air caught her nose, and her attention along with it. Her first surprise came as she walked over to the base of the stairs, her nose tingling, her antennae swaying gently behind her head. She felt she recognised the subtle, poisonous, almost ¡®wrong¡¯ scent wafting down from the second floor¡­ and for all she¡¯d wanted to tell Alice to sit still and not explore around without permission, she found herself climbing the stairs on her tiptoes. The smell of a hundred different scents¡ªall subtly mixing into one single note¡ªreached her nose as she found herself in a dark corridor. Sunlight illuminated the living room through open windows below, but there were no firefly lanterns here. It was just a corridor, two doors flanking the sides at the end of it, and the door on the left was swung inwards; that was where the smell was gushing out from. ¡­ Maybe it really was rude to intrude, but the chief had always seemed to despise Alice¡¯s presence, as well as all things related to giant insects; Dahlia couldn¡¯t help but let her curiosity get the better of her as she neared the room and peeked in through the open door. The living room may be dull and unremarkable, but this room was a Swarmsteel Maker¡¯s hobby room. Glossy greaves and gauntlets hung gracefully on mannequins, moulded from tough insect carapaces. Gowns and scarves and capes hung delicately on hooks on the other side of the room, the fabrics made from translucent butterfly wings and veined beetle elytra. Upon the workbench next to the bed the little girl was sleeping on, she spotted pairs upon pairs of unfinished spectacles; the lenses fashioned from dragonfly eyes, the metal rims shaped from locust legs, wooden cups of strangely shaped carving tools lining the shelves all across the room. There was an open window behind the workbench to let sunlight pour in, but the curtains were made of polarised moth wings and scales¡ªthe only thing that came through strong and harsh were the warm midday winds. No sand. No sound. Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on. Her eyes sparkled at the myriad of Swarmsteel garments as she stepped into the bedroom, and it was still a bedroom. There were cabinets, closets, a desk and accompanying chairs; there was just Swarmsteel scattered all around as well. And they¡¯re all so¡­ pretty. Look at the lining patterns. Look at the little stitches made out of critter ant mandibles. They must be made by a¨C ¡°Please don¡¯t touch any of them.¡± She froze, her claws just about to caress a pinkish-blue scarf hanging on the hooks. The chief didn¡¯t turn around to chastise Dahlia. While the little girl slept soundly on the bed, she sat on a chair nearby and held her daughter¡¯s hand the entire way through¡ªthe winds that blew in made her headchains jingle, but otherwise she was quiet. She was still. She didn¡¯t speak so loud that she woke her daughter up, and¡­ faced with the two of them, Dahlia¡¯s chest suddenly felt like it was twisting in knots. This sight looked¡­ familiar. Maybe her mom used to hold her hand like that when she was younger, but she wouldn¡¯t remember. ¡­ For a few seconds, she debated just leaving the room and the house entirely, but doing so without at least attempting to explain what¡¯d happened just didn¡¯t seem right to her. Slowly, tentatively, she stepped forward and slid herself onto a stool next to the chief; the chief¡¯s baggy and sunken eyes didn¡¯t tear away from the little girl¡¯s sleeping face even once to look at her. Guilt formed a giant lump in her throat, and she opened her mouth in an attempt to speak. No words came out. She tried again. Still nothing but a hoarse, grainy breath of air. ¡°... I¡­ um¡­ I tried to make her a new leg,¡± she finally managed, folding her hands in her lap as she averted her gaze, lips trembling. ¡°But I¡¯m not¡­ good enough yet. Inadequate. I don¡¯t know how to make prosthetics. But, um, if you¡¯d just give me a few more tries¡­ and a bit more time with your daughter, maybe I¡¯ll¨C¡± ¡°I cannot deny the polite request of my daughter¡¯s saviour,¡± the chief murmured, a soft, keening voice, ¡°but to put ¡®Swarmsteel¡¯ onto her body and show her the wonders of insect parts¡­ it will not lead to a happy fate for her.¡± Dahlia was about to bite her teeth and gulp, but then her ears perked. She tilted her head as she realised it only now. ¡°Wait a second,¡± she said, lifting her head to stare at the chief, eyes wide. ¡°You can¡­ you can speak the Alshifa Tongue?¡± The chief¡¯s eyes flickered over for a brief moment, a small frown scrunching her brows. ¡°Yes. A few of us of the older generation can. What is so surprising about it?¡± ¡°The only people I¡¯ve been able to understand since coming to the surface were Alice and Safi!¡± she said excitedly, her voice rising, but then the chief raised a finger to her lips and she quieted down; the little girl stirred a little on the bed. ¡°I¡­ Sorry. I¡¯ll be quiet. But I actually haven¡¯t been able to understand a single thing anyone from the Oasis Town says before, so you¡¯re my first!¡± It was the chief¡¯s turn to give a puzzled tilt of her head. ¡°What do you mean? I am aware you work at both Idan and Jaleel¡¯s stores. They must talk to you a lot.¡± ¡°They don¡¯t! I mean, they try, but it¡¯s not like we can have much of a conversation when I can¡¯t speak or understand the Sharaji Tongue!¡± ¡°... What?¡± Dahlia blinked back at her, just as confused. ¡°What?¡± ¡°You¡­ do not understand our tongue?¡± ¡°Should I?¡± A pause. Then, the chief sighed. ¡°That Hasharana does,¡± she muttered, shaking her head in dismay. ¡°She said all Hasharana with¡­ what did she call it? ¡®Altered Swarmsteel Systems¡¯? She said Altered Swarmsteel Systems can automatically translate all spoken tongues, and the user can also speak in an unfamiliar tongue¡ªthat is how that Hasharana has been able to communicate with us. Do you not have that Swarmsteel as well?¡± Twitching an eye, she looked down at her shoulder and scowled pointedly at Eria. In response, Eria waved its forelegs as though to say ¡®nothing can be done about it¡¯. [The chief is correct,] Eria said plainly. [We, the Archives of the Altered Swarmsteel System, can automatically rewire your brain to understand and speak in unfamiliar tongues¡­ but I am an unregistered Archive. You obtained me through an abnormal channel. Since you never took the Hasharana Entrance Exam, several of my abilities and functionalities are still locked¡ªtranslation being one of them.] ¡­ ¡°... No, my Altered Swarmsteel System isn¡¯t working correctly,¡± she mumbled back, dipping her head apologetically at the chief. ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I¡­ I¡¯m going to have a talk with Alice later about her watching me bumble around town these past two weeks without being able to understand a single word being spoken.¡± ¡°And I will inform the townsfolk to speak in Alshifa Tongue around you as much as possible.¡± The chief waved her concerns away, shaking her own head once again. ¡°To be honest, I, too, did not believe that Hasharana when she first said her Swarmsteel allowed her to understand a tongue she had never heard before. It sounded ridiculous. How could there be Swarmsteel so advanced that they could allow children her age to bypass learning a tongue that took me a decade to master?¡± Dahlia smiled softly. ¡°Swarmsteel are powerful, and I¡¯ve been told there are really, really skilled Makers out there. They can probably make a fully functioning prosthetic leg for your daughter in less than ten minutes.¡± ¡°I am aware. I suppose that, too, was part of the reason why my late husband was so infatuated with insect parts and making Swarmsteel for everyone in town.¡± ¡°...¡± The curtains billowed as the winds blew in stronger, sharper, sunlight reflecting off the unfinished lenses on the workbench. For her part, Dahlia couldn¡¯t stop herself from looking around the room, admiring every little piece of unused fabric, every box and crate of dismantled insect parts sitting on shelves or tucked behind cabinets¡ªit was clear the man who once resided in this room had real talent. If she and her father could be considered specialists at making all-rounding Swarmsteel out of chitin and tough insect parts, the Swarmsteel Maker here had a knack for making fashionable Swarmsteel out of wavy butterfly threads and fibres. The room¡¯s scent may be subtly poisonous; the stories imbued in each and every Swarmsteel, completed or unfinished, were not. ¡°... I noticed, out in town, that there are lots of things made out of insect parts too,¡± she said, locking her fingers together as she looked at the chief. ¡°The brooms are made of stick bug chitin. The trash bins are made of termite midguts. Everywhere I look, there¡¯s something useful made out of insects, so¡­ why is Swarmsteel taboo in this town? Why not use the insect parts to their fullest potential?¡± She knew it was a sensitive topic¡ªit had to be¡ªbut the Swarmsteel in this room was just too pretty. She had to know. And, whether or not she was being pitied for not having understood a word the past two weeks¡ªor because she ¡®deserved¡¯ a reward for saving the little girl¡ªthe chief didn¡¯t immediately shoot her question down. Instead, the chief simply looked out the window and brushed the curtains away. The endless desert outside was as golden and ephemeral as always. ¡°... Because you lived in a cave,¡± the chief said softly, ¡°and you do not know the Swarm that ravaged the world.¡± Chapter 48 - God Killer ¡°... I was a child when she first appeared in the centre of the continent, just a few weeks¡¯ ride from here,¡± the chief said, eyes sunken, staring blankly out the window. ¡°It was Year Seventy. Thirty years ago, the day the Hasharana was formed. The ¡®Worm Mage¡¯ was inaugurating the founding of his wandering bug slaying organisation, and in the middle of their celebrations, the ¡®Swarm Queen¡¯ launched a surprise attack. She decimated their headquarters and coordinated a simultaneous assault with her Six Great Mutants on all Six Swarmsteel Fronts. You undertowners would not know its name, but we, of the surface world, call it ¡®Mortality¡¯s Day¡¯¡ªthe day all of humankind unclenched their fists and resigned themselves to violent, pitiful deaths.¡± The chief raised her finger and pointed out the window, sweeping from one horizon to another, tracing the crest and trough of the dunes. For her part, Dahlia watched; she listened; she pressed her lips together and tried to follow the chief¡¯s finger. ¡°I watched the Worm Mage pick up a mountain that once stood on that dune, and I watched the Swarm Queen shrug it off as he threw it at her,¡± the chief said quietly. ¡°The Worm Mage stomped and made the desert ripple. A hundred Mutants burst out the Swarm Queen¡¯s stomach. He carved a thousand wormholes in the sky and brought down nine mountains from the wintry east. She fed her children to his flames and summoned a thousand more, and I was there, running; I watched as the two of them fought over this desert for only a mere thirty seconds before they took their battle elsewhere, and the Worm Mage was never seen by another man ever again. He died that day, struck down and slaughtered by the Swarm¡¯s strongest. For a while after that, humanity lived with their heads low, and yet¡­ it was little different from how we had always been living.¡± ¡°...¡± The chief angled her head to look at Dahlia, her eyes half-hidden behind her veil and headchains. ¡°You would not know this, but humanity has always been the prey. We have always been on the backfoot. Living legends like the Worm Mage or the Storm Strider appear once every few years, inspiring the rest of us to fight on, but the Swarm has no need for heroic figures. They are uncaring about motivation or unity. They know how to kill, they know how to make us scurry like we are the bugs who must live in caves, and that is all they need to do.¡± Then the chief gave her a sly, painful smile, bereft of the meaning behind it. ¡°Do you think the Sharaji townsfolk truly believe in spirits and deities of the desert? If we did, the only real gods we believe in are the Swarm¡ªtheir blood is unholy ichor, their chitin are dark gemstones, and when humans meld with Swarmsteel, they accept a part of the evil gods within themselves. Do you enjoy the comfort of being clad in the carcasses of evil gods?¡± Dahlia narrowed her eyes, trying to find some sort of judgement in the chief¡¯s face, but there was only quiet, a hint of curiosity, and¡­ she could¡¯ve sworn the chief looked the slightest bit sad sitting in this very room. Strange. If it were her in the chief¡¯s place, she¡¯d be delighted. ¡°... Do you not like the Swarmsteel in this room?¡± she replied, tilting her head slowly, inquisitively. ¡°For me¡­ these scarves and mantles and cloaks are very pretty. They¡¯re not produced in mass. There¡¯s no repeating pattern in any of the embroideries¡ªeach and every garment in this room was made for one person, and one person only.¡± The chief blinked, looking almost surprised that that was Dahlia¡¯s answer; but then she smiled softly, turning to glance at the reed mannequins all around. ¡°My late husband thought the same as you,¡± the chief murmured, gazing longingly at a particularly flowy velvet butterfly dress off to the side. ¡°Though he, too, saw the battle between the Worm Mage and the Swarm Queen, he never thought for a single second that insect parts were ¡®evil¡¯. He was utterly infatuated with all the things he could weave with them¡ªmantles that could trap moisture in our bodies, scarves that could protect our breaths even in a sandstorm, and nails that could change colour depending on the time of day. The ladies loved his nails, by the way. They sold really well even to travelling merchants from the Rampaging Hinterland Front, and I, too¡­ I adored every layer he wove for me. When we made this house ourselves, he said he must have a workshop in our bedroom so he can try his clothes on me any time he wants, not that I understood half of what he made. His mind was beyond mine.¡± Then, the chief scoffed, shaking her head as though in disbelief of what she was saying herself. ¡°Sometimes, I wonder if he adored his Swarmsteel more than he adored me,¡± she whispered, smiling weakly at her daughter on the bed. ¡°But, for a decade while he worked as the town¡¯s Swarmsteel Maker, everyone liked what he made. Slowly but surely, insect parts lost their title as ¡®carcasses of evil gods¡¯, and if he had just lived a decade longer, maybe we would not have to worry about getting attacked by the Swarm anymore. Maybe he would have turned it all around; maybe he would have joined the Hasharana as one of their Makers and made a weapon that could defeat the Swarm. He was a talented man¡ªhe had the smoothest fingers you would ever see on a man.¡± ¡°...¡± Sensing the chief wasn¡¯t going to go on any further by herself, Dahlia dipped her head and folded her hands in her lap. ¡°If you don¡¯t mind me asking¡­¡± she began, voice low and quiet. ¡°How did¡­ your household lose its Maker?¡± The chief remained silent for a moment, her face still as a pond on a windless night. ¡°... It was nothing extraordinary,¡± she finally said, looking out the window once again. ¡°Five years ago, he and his assistants stumbled into Madamaron in a nearby undertown ruin. We found their bodies the day after, and he left me and our daughter alone. For what? A bunch of insect parts he said he could smell in the ruins all the way from this room? Are these ¡®Swarmsteel¡¯ worth dying for in the end?¡± Dahlia¡¯s antennae perked and she glanced out the front door behind her. ¡°I¡­ I¡¯m sorry to hear that. But, miss chief, don¡¯t you think that maybe¡­ maybe he only wanted to¨C¡± ¡°Nothing he could have made with insect parts could ever replace my daughter¡¯s papa!¡± the chief snapped, losing her temper for a brief, brief second; then the little girl stirred on her bed, and she immediately clenched her jaw. ¡°Swarmsteel¡­ are disgusting. He should never have desecrated the carcasses of humanity¡¯s evil gods. Never. The Hasharana and the Seven Swarmsteel Fronts and the Great Mutants and whatever is out there¡­ we want nothing to do with any of it. To make Swarmsteel is to try to live with our heads held high, and that will only invite¨C¡± ¡°Are you weak of sight, miss chief?¡± The chief suddenly turned to stare at her, but if she wasn¡¯t sure before, she was more than sure of it now¡ªshe¡¯d moved her chair a little bit to the right while the chief was staring out the window, and it didn¡¯t feel like she was actually being looked at. ¡°... What?¡± the chief said. ¡°When we first met, and a week ago when we met again, after Alice pulled me and your daughter out of the oasis,¡± she started, ¡°you had two guards around you, supporting your arms. You always have two guards supporting your arms. Then, your veil that hides half of your face, the headchains that reflect sunlight back into my face, and just now, when you couldn¡¯t look me in the eye¡­ you must be half-blind, right? Or, at the very least, your eyes are not very sensitive to light?¡± The chief paused. Then, after a few moments of heavy silence, she brushed her forehead and pushed her veil out of the way. Dahlia wasn¡¯t particularly surprised to see her eyes were clouded, foggy white orbs underneath her reflective headchains. ¡°... Your eyes are just as keen as my husband¡¯s,¡± the chief muttered, tracing a finger along her eyelids. ¡°For generations, the women of the Sharaji chief¡¯s household have been born with a sickness that will eventually lead to colour blindness and weakness of sight. Because we cannot see, our skin is more sensitive to minute fluctuations in the air, and so we are better at detecting oncoming sandstorms than most. Even my daughter, when she grows to be twenty, will begin to lose her vision and become like¨C¡± The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings. ¡°She won¡¯t.¡± It may be rude, but she¡¯d been rude enough already; Dahlia didn¡¯t hesitate to lean forward and pluck the little girl¡¯s goggles off her neck. Then, Dahlia held the goggles out to the chief. ¡°Try it on,¡± she said. The chief knitted her brows. ¡°This is¡­ the one I fought with her over that night.¡± She shook her head, averting her gaze. ¡°My daughter has inherited my husband¡¯s inquisitiveness for insect parts. It will not bode well for her. I owe you everything for saving her life a week ago, and I will repay you the world if I could, but to meld with a Swarmsteel now would¨C¡± ¡°She was making this for you,¡± she said, sternly this time as she pushed the goggles even further forward. ¡°Just try it on.¡± ¡°...¡± Reluctantly, the chief took the goggles and pulled the straps behind her head, fumbling with the clasps for a brief second¡ªand the moment she started adjusting the metal frame over her eyes, Dahlia gestured for her to turn the cog dials on the side. The chief did as instructed, and the mixture of firefly and sun beetle extract immediately flowed behind the right lens. Dahlia smiled as the chief tensed up and reeled back in her chair, her right eye glowing a bright shade of vermillion; it really was a remarkable Swarmsteel, even if the chief wasn¡¯t exactly wearing the straps correctly so it could meld with her scalp. All for the better, Dahlia supposed¡ªthe concept of easy-to-wear and easy-to-take-off Swarmsteel, tailored for one specific person, was the Sina household¡¯s specialty after all. Except she wasn¡¯t the one who¡¯d made the goggles. All she¡¯d done was give it a little upgrade. ¡°... She was making it for you, miss chief,¡± Dahlia said, as the chief looked around the room in a daze, snapping her head left and right as though she couldn¡¯t believe what she was seeing; Dahlia couldn¡¯t even begin to imagine the myriad of colours flooding through her head right now. ¡°And this is just what I think, but maybe¡­ it¡¯s not so much that Swarmsteel are made from the ¡®carcasses of evil gods¡¯, but more so that ¡®we slayed the evil gods, and so we wear their slaughtered kin to make them fear our scent¡¯.¡± ¡°...¡± ¡°In Alshifa, there was a little funeral rite we liked to do for our warriors. We called it the ¡®Almat Alsu Deathbed¡¯, and it is something every doctor must learn before they are recognised as men of life,¡± she continued, dipping her head as the chief kept turning the dials, flickering through more and more combinations of colours. The chief probably wasn¡¯t listening; she didn¡¯t really care. ¡°For humans who lived until the very end, we would send them away from this world clad in the flesh of their mortal enemies. They wear the skin of their prey, and it terrifies the Swarm¡ªwouldn¡¯t you be unnerved seeing a human carrying with them the corpses of a hundred other humans?¡± ¡°...¡± ¡°But I don¡¯t think¡­ Swarmsteel are disgusting,¡± she said, looking slowly around the room, smiling as she did. ¡°I think your husband made very, very pretty clothes.¡± ¡°...¡± The chief turned away, facing the velvet butterfly dress off to the side with her right eye shining pure gold, but most assuredly, the ¡®scent¡¯ of tears in the room were not fake. Swarmsteel were more than just the carcasses of evil gods, after all. Dahlia kept her head low, respecting the silence. Maybe it was time she stopped intruding and let the mother-daughter have their time alone. She could spend the rest of the day harvesting reeds just to help out Mushariff Idan and his farmers a bit more¨C ¡°You said your husband was killed by Madamaron in a nearby ruin?¡± Alice asked, finally deciding to step into the room and making the chief whirl in shock; Dahlia shot the Hasharana a glare, but Alice''s eyes weren''t focused on her. ¡°Tell me where the ruin is. I''ve been thinking of ways to lure Madamaron to the surface so we could have an even fight on my territory, but I''ve got nothing so far. If it shows up at the ruin, then I want to check the place out.¡± ¡°... And you are still trying to kill Madamaron?¡± the chief whispered, a quiver to her voice as she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, sniffling softly. ¡°I told you when you first arrived: Madamaron is an evil god. It and its descendants have terrorised the Sharaji Oasis Town for longer than you have been alive. Try as you might, a single human can never bring down an evil god of the desert, so we must let it be and¨C¡± ¡°You weren''t lying, but you didn''t finish the whole story for Dahlia to hear,¡± Alice said bluntly, her expression cold and distant, her eyes blank and hollow. ¡°The Swarm Queen struck down the Worm Mage that day. She pierced a hole through his heart and cast him eight thousand metres down into the pits of hell, stripping him of all his abilities and humanity of all their hope¡ªand he climbed out of that hell as the Worm God, carrying a Swarmsteel rifle made from the carcasses of a hundred unborn Great Mutants.¡± The chief¡¯s expression turned grim, and it turned even more so when Alice suddenly knelt, prostrating herself with all four hands on the ground. Even Dahlia reeled back a little, completely taken off-guard by the Hasharana¡¯s gesture. ¡°You may all believe Madamaron is an evil god of the desert who cannot be struck down, but I don¡¯t care what you believe,¡± Alice said plainly, her voice not a single bit muffled by her facing the ground. ¡°Don¡¯t forget: Year Seventy, when the Swarm Queen made her first appearance, it was humanity who won that fight. It was the Hasharana, wearing the carcasses of their sworn enemies, who dared to live with their heads held high¡ªso tell me where the ruin is, and without question, your evil god will be slaughtered like the bug it really is.¡± The promise was directed at the chief, but Dahlia heard her heartbeat thundering in her ears, felt her face flushing red with heat. She¡¯d never heard Alice sound like a pillar of resolve. A living weapon of malice. That the Hasharana could sound like that while wearing her own face, speaking with her own voice, it made her feel¡­ inadequate. Were the two of them really the same age? Could she tell the chief she could definitely kill Madamaron and bring peace to the Oasis Town? ¡°... What do you need?¡± the chief whispered. ¡°Directions to the ruin,¡± Alice replied curtly. ¡°What else?¡± ¡°A guide or two. Maybe a dozen porters as well. Giant insects are known to reside in ruins of human civilization because there¡¯s lots of places to hide, so there¡¯s a high chance Madamaron is living there or using it as a feeding ground. If I find traces of it there, I want to set up traps before luring it out.¡± ¡°How long will it take you to kill it?¡± ¡°Well, I don¡¯t know. The hardest part about fighting a Mutant is just trying to get it to come out.¡± Alice shrugged where she knelt, raising her head only to smile at the chief. ¡°If it comes out, I¡¯ll kill it. I just¡­ you know, I might need a few fresh-smelling humans to use as bait.¡± Dahlia clicked her tongue quietly¡ªthat was about the worst way Alice could¡¯ve ended her plea for help with¡ªbut, to her surprise, the chief only gave the Hasharana a resigned, quiet nod. ¡°... Fine,¡± the chief muttered, gripping her daughter¡¯s hand tight. ¡°You go tomorrow with the town guards. They¡¯ll show you the way.¡± Alice bounced to her feet, clapping her hands and bowing delightfully. ¡°You got it, chief! I¡¯ll bring back Madamaron¡¯s head so you guys can stick it on a stake or something¨C¡± ¡°¨Cthat will be unnecessary¨C¡± ¡°¨Cand I¡¯ll be taking Dahlia with me to the ruins as well, so keep giving her a salary while she¡¯s helping me out?¡± Alice finished, pulling Dahlia off her stool; for her part, she only clicked her tongue and glared at Alice again. ¡°If the ruin¡¯s a fair distance from the town, we¡¯ll have to buy food and equipment for our long trips back and forth. They say an army runs on its stomach, but so do girls in their growing years¡ªuncle can¡¯t make our meals out there, so we don¡¯t wanna starve.¡± The chief nodded slowly, pulling her veil and heachains back over her face. ¡°That much can be arranged,¡± she said, gazing at Dahlia sternly. ¡°I still owe you, after all.¡± ¡°...¡± With that, Alice dragged Dahlia out of the room, and the chief turned back to watch over her daughter. Dahlia twisted her lips at the sight. Eria. [Yes?] I will make a Swarmsteel prosthetic. [...] Do you want to say it¡¯s impossible without that adaptable insect part you were talking about? [... Of course not,] Eria said, [and if the undertown ruin we will visit tomorrow really is a feeding ground for giant insects, perhaps we will find a few parts high quality enough to serve your purpose.] Chapter 49 - Undertown Ruin Bright and early the next morning, Dahlia met up with Alice at the eastern end of town. There, they were accompanied by a dozen town guards as they rode out on half a dozen camels, each camel strapped down to the leg with canisters of cool water and rolls of dried meat just in case the expedition took longer than expected¡ª¡¯there is no certainty in the desert¡¯ was what the chief had said, so, if necessary, the guards were fully prepared to camp a night out on the rolling dunes. With Alice here, they wouldn¡¯t have to worry as much about attacks by giant insects during the night as well. By all means, this should be a simple expedition to a ruin the townsfolk had been to many, many times before. ¡°... You should¡¯ve told me earlier that my Altered Swarmsteel System wasn¡¯t translating the townsfolk¡¯s tongue, though,¡± Dahlia grumbled, hugging Alice¡¯s waist as their shared camel sprinted across the dunes, kicking sand up into their scarves and goggles. ¡°I can¡¯t believe you just watched me bumble around for two weeks without letting me know. All those times people talked to me like they thought I understood them, and then they had to dumb their speech down so I could pick out a few words here and there¡­ embarrassing. Humiliating. If there¡¯s anything else I should know about my system, you better¨C¡± ¡°I¡¯ll have uncle treat you to something nice, okay?¡± Alice laughed back, shaking her head softly as Dahlia squeezed her waist tighter. ¡°Honestly, though, I actually didn¡¯t know your Archive¡¯s functions were that restricted just because it wasn¡¯t registered. All the more reason you should either get it registered or just learn the Sharaji Tongue properly, right?¡± Dahlia mumbled back in response. Ignoring the communication mishaps, Alice had a point; she really should learn the Sharaji Tongue if she wasn¡¯t going to get Eria registered anytime soon. Even if Mushariff Idan greeted her this morning in Alshifa Tongue, most of the younger townsfolk didn¡¯t know how to speak her tongue¡ªshe didn¡¯t think the guards accompanying them to the ruin knew, either¡ªso if she was going to live here for the foreseeable future, there¡¯d be real value in being able to communicate without having to cling to Alice all the time. She¡¯d talk to the chief about it at a later date. Right now, though, they were encroaching on a massive crater in the middle of the desert, and their caravan of camels were slowing significantly so they wouldn¡¯t roll down the steep inclined slope. One of the guards raised a fist and ordered the rest of them to stop, and there, they dismounted to continue the rest of the journey on foot¡ªthe camels would have a hard time navigating through the ruin, after all. And she of all people would know it was an undertown ruin. Even through thin veils of sand blowing in the winds, the sun was bright enough that she could make out the tiers of buildings at the bottom of the crater they were sliding down to. This entire crater must¡¯ve been an underground cavern at one point, but somewhere along the way, the rocky ceiling had collapsed and exposed the undertown to the surface world. As their sandals clacked against the bottom of the crater, they were immediately surrounded on all sides by muted and faded buildings¡ªstone and wooden constructions both square and tall, the roofs all gabled or pointed. Sand washed over most of the cobblestone streets, but if she looked closely she could still see the patterning, the sewer grates, the garden plots where trees and conifers had once been grown. She raised her head, pulled up her goggles, pulled down her scarf, and took a deep whiff of the air: musk and heat, dried oil and sands, and an irremovable scent of ¡®civilization¡¯ that¡¯d once been purely content with what it had. The moment the ceiling had caved in, what the undertown had was no longer theirs. ¡°... Cacip,¡± she whispered, making Alice¡¯s ears perk as the guards stayed by the slope, tossing around anchoring ropes so they¡¯d all have an easier time climbing back up to the camels. ¡°There were eight undertowns all connected by a web of tunnels, and Alshifa, where I came from, was one of them¡­ but I heard it didn¡¯t used to be eight. Cacip was the ninth undertown we lost contact with about three decades ago, and our elders had never figured out what happened.¡± Alice strode forward through the empty street, kicking up sand and rotten wooden beams as she did. ¡°Well, now you know. This undertown was built too close to the surface. You said your undertown lost contact with this one about three decades ago, right?¡± ¡°Right.¡± ¡°It must¡¯ve been the ¡®Day of Mortality¡¯, then¡ªthirty years ago, when the Worm Mage first fought the Swarm Queen all across the continent,¡± Alice said, snapping her fingers to beckon the rest to follow her deeper into the ruin. Dahlia obliged, and so did the rest of the guards with their hands on the hilt of their saifs; the safest place around here was next to the Hasharana. ¡°The chief said as much, right? The two of them fought in the Sharaji Desert for only about thirty seconds before warping away, but the force behind their attacks must¡¯ve dislodged and weakened the ceiling of this undertown, causing it to collapse. It would¡¯ve been a quick and immediate death for everyone.¡± ¡°...¡± Dahlia looked away as they travelled deeper into the ruin. Alice might be searching for signs and traces of Madamaron, but she was looking at the broken sidewalks, the desolate marketplace, and the dried sand-covered husks of men and giant insects alike¡ªno doubt about it, there were giant insects currently using the ruin as their nesting ground. It had everything a bug would need; lots of shadows under roofs, sewer tunnels for rapid movement around the ruin, and it was at the bottom of a crater where sandstorms surely hit weaker and less often. For bugs who preferred living on the desert¡¯s surface, Cacip was the perfect location. A cold shiver ran down her spine as they stopped before a particularly gruesome husk, some sort of desiccated giant locust¡ªshe couldn¡¯t help but wonder if there¡¯d been people here who hadn¡¯t died the instant the ceiling collapsed, and had to live several more days as giant insects started infesting the undertown. She shook her head immediately afterwards, clapping her cheeks with all four hands to snap herself out of it. Focus. We¡¯re looking for traces of Madamaron. And this husk¡­ This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version. ¡°It¡¯s fresh,¡± she said, kneeling to place a palm on the carcass of the giant locust. Alice did the same, narrowing her eyes. ¡°It died the same way that poor lady died on my first night in town. Drained. Its body was snapped in half, its insides sucked out through a hole in the abdomen, then its outer surface was left untouched¡­ and now that I think about it, Madamaron can¡¯t be a fog-bask beetle.¡± Alice turned to look at Dahlia, brows furrowed. ¡°How so?¡± ¡°Fog-bask beetles chew with their mandibles. They don¡¯t suck out their prey¡¯s insides like most true bugs do,¡± she said, shaking her head softly. ¡°If it¡¯s not a fog-bask beetle, then I¡¯m not sure how it made those ripples in that poor lady¡¯s walls, but it can¡¯t be a chewing insect. It has to be something that can¡­ grab its prey¡­ and then¡­¡± She trailed off, swivelling her head around to look for more giant locust carcasses. There were plenty around her¡ªat least two or three dozen just scattered about the street, thrown through brittle walls, draped across broken roofs. The guards followed her eyes and were visibly tense as they noticed just how many giant carcasses were actually around them; it wouldn¡¯t be surprising at all if Madamaron had been here just hours ago to feast on this small horde of locusts. In that case, ¡°Can all of you¡­ um, check the streets around us?¡± she said, looking to Alice for translation. ¡°Look for giant footprints or dents in the ground. Report anything strange back to me, and don¡¯t stray too far. Dangerous. Madamaron¡­ may still be close by.¡± Alice translated dutifully, and, while hesitant at first, the guards must¡¯ve been reassured by a Hasharana¡¯s presence. They started spreading out in groups of three to check the areas around the giant locust carcasses, and they made sure never to leave Alice¡¯s field of vision; for her part, Dahlia kept walking in circles around her giant locust laying slump against the entrance of a broken store, frowning at how ¡®clean¡¯ its body had been snapped and folded in half. She had¡­ an inkling of a suspicion. And when the guards returned to her, each reporting to Alice their findings as they shook their heads, she had real evidence to support her suspicion. ¡°No giant footprints or cracks in the ground,¡± Alice said plainly. ¡°So, Madamaron didn¡¯t walk around and kill the giant locusts on foot. It can fly, then? That¡¯ll explain why there are some carcasses on the roofs. It must¡¯ve swooped down, picked up a few of them, and then dropped them from the sky¡ª¡± ¡°It¡¯s an antlion nymph,¡± Dahlia breathed, rapping the ground next to her with a knuckle; the cobblestone street sounded strangely hollow underneath. ¡°It didn¡¯t push through the walls of the poor lady¡¯s house by softening them with water. It vibrated its way through, just like how it makes trapping pits in the sand.¡± Alice blinked. ¡°What¡¯s an antlion?¡± ¡°...¡± It was easier to demonstrate. She pointed at the nearest roof, gesturing for Alice to carry her up. The Hasharana did so without complaint, jumping up to the roof and yanking her along the way with a glowing red thread wrapped around her waist. She would¡¯ve appreciated a less violent method of transportation, but¡­ she got her confirmation the moment she had a bird¡¯s eye view of the ruin. She pointed at the giant locust carcasses one by one. ¡°Antlion nymphs make funnel-shaped pits in the sand, and anything that falls into the pit gets trapped, grabbed, snapped in half, and has their insides sucked out before their dried husks are flung out extremely violently,¡± she explained. ¡°See the ¡®ripple circles¡¯ all across the ground? Those are the remnant marks of Madamaron¡¯s trapping pits, and whenever locusts fall into one, it¡¯s almost impossible for them to get back out because the sides of the pit will keep sliding down the more they struggle. Then, Madamaron just burrows beneath each of its pits, drains the trapped locusts one by one, and then flings their dried husks out of the pits before reburying the hole with sand to make it seem like there was no pit in the first place. However, there are still ripple circles left behind, and¨C¡± ¡°That¡¯s why there are locust carcasses on the roofs and in the walls as well,¡± Alice finished. ¡°The antlion flung them so hard they landed up there.¡± ¡°... Right.¡± Dahlia nodded curtly, glancing to see Alice¡¯s expression. ¡°Since antlion nymphs make trapping pits by vibrating their legs really fast, I think¡­ Madamaron, a Mutant version of one, can vibrate its hands really fast to make it ¡®phase¡¯ through sandstone walls. That¡¯s how it grabbed the poor lady through her house. If we assume it can also vibrate sand so hard that sandstorms occur more often, then after it¡¯s done feeding and goes into a period of dormancy, there¡¯ll be less sandstorms for a while¡­ is why I think there are less sandstorms after it murders a townsfolk. But if it¡¯s eating so many giant locusts, then why would it go into dormancy after eating just a few humans¨C¡± ¡°Because the Swarm¡¯s favourite food are humans, and they get more nutrients from eating one of us than cannibalising a hundred giant bugs,¡± Alice said quickly, grabbing her shoulders with four hands, shaking her excitedly with a cheery grin on her own face. ¡°You solved it again, huh? If it¡¯s a burrowing insect, then it also aligns with what we saw at the bottom of the oasis¡ªthere were tunnels leading even deeper underground, so Madamaron has to be an insect that likes living in caverns!¡± Dahlia scratched the back of her head, looking away sheepishly. Certainly, it seemed like this guess of hers was her best by far¡ªMadamaron being an antlion nymph meant she could explain all of Sharaji¡¯s strange phenomena¡ªbut there was always a chance that she was wrong, and if she were wrong just like how she¡¯d been wrong predicting what the Mutant firefly actually was¡­ ¡­ ¡­ Maybe the Arcana Hasharana wouldn¡¯t care either way. At the very least, Alice didn¡¯t look the slightest bit worried now as she yelled down at the guards, likely telling them to begin establishing the foundations of a giant trap using the entire undertown as bait. They knew Madamaron came here to hunt, and have been doing so for at least the past couple of years; if they could lure it out and have Alice fight it one-on-one, the threat of the evil god could be ended just like that. Surely, Alice wouldn¡¯t let her guard down and just blindly believe Dahlia¡¯s prediction. It was just a framework of reference so she wouldn¡¯t be taken by surprise if Madamaron suddenly started vibrating the sands. So, for her own part, Dahlia wanted to do something to help trap Madamaron too. These giant locust parts are still fresh and usable, aren¡¯t they? [Correct.] And locusts are pretty good at jumping because of their strong legs, right? [Correct.] Do you think I can make prosthetics out of them, then? Eria mused on her shoulder. [You can most certainly try. With this many carcasses, it is not as though you will run out of cricket parts even if you fail and destroy the components a hundred times.] ¡­ Then, I want to try a different, slightly more advanced form of Swarmsteel making this time. [Oh? What is it?] She looked down at Eria, smiling softly. Do you think Smith Jaleel will let me use his forge and furnace for this? Chapter 50 - Blood-Forged Smith Jaleel agreed to let Dahlia use the forge for her personal project, but only past midnight¡ªshe¡¯d make too much noise and disturb the neighbouring children trying to sleep otherwise¡ªso while she waited for the moon to hang, she sat cross-legged on a stool before the gently crackling furnace, tapping her feet impatiently as she studied the twenty or so fully carved giant locust parts laid out on the ground in front of her. After they¡¯d returned to the Oasis Town this afternoon with the twenty locust carcasses dragging behind the camels, Alice had immediately grabbed forty townsfolk to head back out to the undertown ruin, saying she wanted to get started on setting a trap for Madamaron immediately. There was no telling when the Mutant would appear in the ruin next, after all, so Dahlia was left on her own once again. She probably wouldn¡¯t see Alice for at least the next week or two, but that was quite alright with her; she¡¯d hauled her giant carcasses to the back of the forge and spent the rest of the night carving them into raw, dry chitin plates. There were enough parts in front of her that she could probably make twenty or so prosthetic legs with components to spare. [Do not be wasteful, still,] Eria warned. [Typically, when you treat insect parts in high heat, you can only deform them once before they harden¡ªthis hardening process is irreversible. Once they cool down, you will not be able to reshape and reuse the components.] Yeah. I know. I¡­ I got it. Eria gave her a suspicious look atop her shoulder. [You do know how to work a forge, correct?] Quickly, she reviewed all the tools at her disposal in the forge: the anvils to the left, the solid blocks of iron, their surfaces scarred and pitted from countless hammer strikes. Smith Jaleel was always very rough with them. The furnace glowed behind her, its mouth open like a fiery maw, molten orange heat searing the back of her cloak gently. Tongs of various sizes hung on the walls, and she knew they were used to grip and manipulate hot metal. Apart from the most basic tools, however, she found she didn¡¯t really recognise some of the stranger-looking ones. On the workbenches were an assortment of peens¡ªstraight ones, cross ones, ball ones¡ªand a bunch of chisels of different lengths and sizes, edges sharp and glinting in the dim light. She didn¡¯t know which ones did what. There were also stacks of giant iron blocks just sitting around with variously-sized holes on the faces. Those were probably¡­ swage blocks? She felt she¡¯d seen Smith Jaleel use the variously-sized holes to hold up hot bars of metal for further shaping, but she wasn¡¯t really sure. It couldn¡¯t be that difficult, right? [... Midnight arrives,] Eria said. [You can begin now.]
Working a forge by herself was very difficult. She began by telling Eria to display a mirage of the little girl¡¯s prosthetic onto a workbench so she could see the dimensions again, and then she picked up a random giant locust chitin plate with her tongs. It wasn¡¯t like she knew nothing about working a forge¡ªeven before arriving on the surface, she¡¯d seen metalsmiths work in Alshifa occasionally¡ªbut sticking her raw component into the furnace and then stepping on the bellows was about the extent of her knowledge. Smith Jaleel never showed it on his face, but it was tiring. She didn¡¯t know how long she had to hold the heavy chitin in the fire for, but either she wasn¡¯t stepping on the bellows hard enough or the flames were just naturally weak; it took ten minutes for the chitin to start glowing bright orange, and by the time she yanked it out her arms were already shaking, and she accidentally dropped the whole thing onto the ground. Grave mistake, she thought. It shattered into a hundred scorching chunks, burning her legs, almost setting the forge on fire. Then she spent the next fifteen minutes putting out all the small fires before sweeping the chunks into a bucket of water, completely out of breath. Eager to try again, though, she stuffed another chitin plate into the fire after ten minutes of rest, yanking it out the moment it started glowing and then slamming it down onto the closest anvil. She used to shave off excess chitin with her bare hands, but this time she used a blacksmith¡¯s hammer and chisel, carefully measuring the dimensions of the plate before bringing her chisel down¡ªshattering the whole thing once again as it blew up right in her face. ¡­ The chitin¡¯s not evenly heated when I stick it into the furnace, so when I hit it with uneven force, the hotter parts will shatter while the cooler parts won¡¯t, she thought, licking blood off her lips as she brushed the shrapnel away with a broom, shaking sweat off her brows. Next time, I have to stick it deeper into the fire and rotate it throughout. Then it¡¯ll be evenly heated. Third try. She rotated the heating chitin with her tongs for ten minutes, then slapped it down onto the anvil. Her first attempt at chiselling and shaving off excess chitin didn¡¯t result in it exploding, so a triumphant smile rose onto her face for the briefest of seconds¡ªthen it exploded again, and she was beyond grateful her extra arms were already bracing her face this time. Well. Just because I know what to do doesn¡¯t mean I actually have the dexterity and arm strength to heat such a large piece of chitin evenly. [But why not just shave off the excess chitin before you heat the plate?] ¡­ Oh. Common sense was Eria¡¯s specialty, so she started shaving off the excess from each plate before sticking them into the fire. Unsurprisingly, the fourth glowing plate didn¡¯t gain any excess mass or weight even after heating, so this time she slapped it down on an anvil, feeling good about herself. She¡¯d seen Smith Jaleel do this plenty of times. She grabbed the superheated plate with tongs in one hand and slammed it with a hammer in the other, lifting the plate and turning it ever so slightly as she hammered to give it that ¡®curve¡¯ needed for the hull of the prosthetic. This was malleable, glowing hot chitin. Unlike her first attempt at making a prosthetic by sticking a dozen mostly inflexible plates around a metal pipe, she only needed one cylindrical plate for the lower leg, one ball-shaped plate for the ankle joint, and one flat plate for the foot. Just three plates in total. Since the lower leg was going to be the biggest component of the prosthetic by far, she opted to finish it first, and it was going incredibly well¡ªglowing hot and malleable as the plate was, she managed to hammer it into a full cylinder after twenty minutes. It only resembled something like a human¡¯s lower leg, but appearances weren''t her top concern at the moment. As long as it cooled and hardened properly, it could be worked with. While she waited for it to cool on the first anvil, she stuck two more plates into the fire and slammed them both onto different anvils; they¡¯d be the ankle joint and the foot respectively. For the foot, she barely needed to do any shaping¡ªshe¡¯d already shaved off the excess before putting it in the fire¡ªbut for the ankle joint, she realised the only way she¡¯d get a perfect ball of chitin was by melting the entire thing down and then pouring it into a ball-shaped mould. There was a crucible next to the workbench she could use for the mould, but¡­ Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work! What if she just made the entire prosthetic out of one single plate? Instead of making the three parts of the prosthetic separately and then joining them together with nails and chains and metal pins, what if she just heated an entire giant lump of insect chitin and then shaped it into the prosthetic? Carving out the shape of the prosthetic before heating was impossible¡ªthe lump of chitin would be too thick and tough for her to make any detailed carvings, and the whole point of using the forge was to heat the chitin and make it tougher after processing¡ªso she¡¯d just need a bit of artistry and dexterity to shape the malleable glowing chitin into a complete prosthetic right out of the furnace. Then she wouldn¡¯t have to make it in separate components and risk something going wrong in between. The less steps, the better. ¡­ Can it be done? [It will be very difficult,] Eria replied honestly. [There is a reason why most Great Makers make prosthetics in individual components before joining them together with gear arrays. To shape an entire lump of raw insect chitin into a complete prosthetic within the time it takes to cool and harden right out of the fire is¡­ almost impossible. No matter how good you are with a hammer¡ªor how many hammers you have¡ªyou cannot possibly shape the complete prosthetic before it hardens.] But if I shape it with my hands? Eria scoffed. [Right out of the fire, the temperature of the chitin can reach up to nine hundred degrees. Even if it only takes thirty minutes for it to cool to room temperature, you will have to finish shaping the entire prosthetic before then while enduring the heat with your bare hands. Do you want to attempt something like that?] ¡­ She let out a heavy exhale as she went back to her original plan: making separate components and then connecting them together afterwards. Forging the ankle ball joint with the crucible would take too much time¡ªshe didn¡¯t know if the fire was hot enough to melt insect chitin down into liquid, anyways¡ªso she settled with a bronze ball joint she¡¯d bought from a street vendor for the time being, waiting until the foot and lower leg components cooled down on their respective anvils. Then she grabbed all three components, tossed them onto the nearest empty workbench, and laid out a bunch of nails and vials of adhesive sap; the same ones she¡¯d used for her first failed prosthetic. Since she¡¯d already made a prosthetic before, joining the three components together was no trouble at all. It only took her five minutes to cobble the prosthetic into existence, and when she finally took a step back, wiping rivers of sweat off her cheeks, Eria gave her its status screen. [Desert Locust Tibia Prosthetic Leg (Quality = E)(Spd +0/2)(Tou +0/3)(Strain +497)] [... It is a decent prosthetic leg that will provide its user some amount of attribute levels,] Eria said plainly. [However, it is as I said. Without a certain Lesser Great Mutant¡¯s parts that only the Great Makers have access to, whatever prosthetic you make will not be able to ¡®adapt¡¯ to the user¡¯s constant change in physiology. The prosthetic will not grow alongside the user. It will have to be remade over and over, year by year, and it cannot be a proper replacement for the user¡¯s original legs. It does not have the nerve connections to do so.] ¡­ [But this is a good first step for a prosthetic. If you can lower the amount of strain it will bring to the user¨C] I know. She wasn¡¯t sleepy yet. Sweat and grime clung to her face and made her feel hotter than even standing under the midday sun. Through the hours of the quiet night, she made three more prosthetic legs, each better than the last¡ªher first prosthetic would strain the user too much, so she cut down on the chitin and made the whole thing lighter as a result. Her second prosthetic was too jagged and blocky, so she smoothed the edges out by putting more strength into her hammers. Her third prosthetic¡¯s foot couldn¡¯t bend, so she custom-made the fourth¡¯s foot by folding a thinner chitin plate over itself, creating a small hollow space inside the foot so it¡¯d be more flexible¡­ and, as a result, her prosthetic became more and more refined. Four hours past midnight, Eria pulled up the status screen for her fourth prosthetic, and it was¡­ [Desert Locust Tibia Prosthetic Leg (Quality = D)(Spd +0/3)(Tou +0/6)(Strain +285)] [... Terrific job,] Eria said cheerily, jumping off her shoulder and onto her newest prosthetic, skittering up and around the leg to take a closer look. [With the cost of strain nearly cut in half, even a child should be able to meld with it without any issues. Now, please return to your room and go to sleep. You can go to the chief¡¯s household tomorrow. I doubt the chief would refuse a Swarmsteel leg of this quality, so she would at least attempt to let you meld it onto her daughter¨C] Dahlia smashed the leg to pieces with a fist, and the shrapnel went flying everywhere, bouncing off the walls, clattering across the sandstone floor. Eria was nearly smashed alongside it, and she did feel a bit guilty about giving her Archive a fright¡­ but she felt horrible in her chest, anger flaring up inside her, and it had nothing to do with the ¡®quality¡¯ of her Swarmsteel. She¡¯d forgotten her dad¡¯s teachings. ¡°¡­ Not once did I touch the chitin with my bare hands,¡± she whispered, stumbling back onto the stool before the furnace; the forge was an utter mess with all her insect parts just strewn about. ¡°Cold. Distant. It was all chisel and hammer and tongs and¡­ nothing from me. No wonder I don¡¯t like it. That¡¯s a generic Swarmsteel just about anyone can wear, and I didn¡¯t make it with anyone in mind.¡± Her dad had always taught her to make Swarmsteel for one person, and only that one person. So what if the newest version of her prosthetic was rated higher quality by Eria? So what if a child could meld with it without convulsing and hyperventilating? None of that meant anything if the little girl herself couldn¡¯t meld with it, and she knew for a fact that it wasn¡¯t good enough¡ªit needed to be a Swarmsteel that could pair with the little girl¡¯s goggles made from blood, sweat, and tears. So she sat on her stool, face buried in her hands, breathing hard and heavy¡­ until she felt a drop of blood trickle down her claws and onto the ground with a sharp little splat. Her antennae perked. She glanced down where her blood had landed onto a broken shard from her prosthetic. And though it¡¯d once been a garishly yellow shard, the chitin ripped straight from the legs of a giant desert locust, her golden blood bloomed across the surface like an inkblot spreading on a scroll. There were no winds blowing into the forge. No breath of hers made her blood move. Still, with every blink, she watched as her blood diffused through the imperceivable pores of the chitin and dyed the whole shard gold. ¡­ Eria. [What is it?] You mentioned, when we first met, that you were surprised I melded so quickly and efficiently with the cave cricket bracers. [Yes. Now I know it is because you are an assassin bug that excels in wearing the carcasses of your prey. You being able to meld with Swarmsteel quickly is¨C] I know what the prosthetic is missing to make it uniquely ¡®mine¡¯. She shot off her stool, picked up the shard by her feet as she did, and stared intently at it. It wasn¡¯t just dyed gold on the surface. Her blood had permeated through every pore of the shard and made the whole thing light as a feather. [... Interesting,] Eria mused. [The total biomass of ¡®desert locust chitin¡¯ remains unchanged in the shard, but somehow, with your blood¨C] The Swarmsteel is missing ¡®me¡¯, she thought, dragging a claw across her palm to draw a trickle of golden blood. Are you sure, after all, that there¡¯s only one Lesser Great Mutant in the world whose parts can make a Swarmsteel adaptable? Chapter 51 - Adaptable Swarmsteel It wasn¡¯t until another whole week passed that Dahlia banged on the doors of the town chief¡¯s house in the middle of the day, glaring up at the scorching sun and tapping her foot impatiently as she waited for someone to answer the door. When Dahlia saw it was the little girl who pulled the door open, hobbling on one foot with the chief standing right behind, her face immediately lit up with excitement¡ªwith all four arms, she scooped up the little girl and bowed to the chief, closing her eyes briefly. ¡°Can I¡­ um, I¡¯ll come back with your daughter in a bit!¡± she said, lifting her head to steal a glance at the chief; naturally, the mother had a worried look on her face. ¡°If you want to watch, though, that¡¯s alright as well! I¡¯ll be in the forge, so¡­ come whenever you want! I promise I won¡¯t disappoint!¡± ¡°And what¡­ are you planning on doing with my daughter?¡± the chief asked, brows furrowing. ¡°You sound feverish. You look dehydrated. Come inside, and I can serve you something cool to drink while you¨C¡± ¡°It¡¯ll just be thirty minutes! I promise I¡¯ll be back!¡± Frankly, she was on too much of a high to wait any longer. While Alice was still busy building a trap in the undertown ruin and ignoring her, she¡¯d done nothing the past week but working in Smith Jaleel¡¯s forge, trying to figure out why her blood could dye insect parts gold¡­ and she¡¯d just managed to work it out with Eria an hour ago. If she sat down and unwound now, she¡¯d probably fall asleep, and if that happened, she feared she¡¯d lose her ¡®iron fingers¡¯ from having spent the entire week working with blistering hot insect parts. It was really just going to be thirty minutes. So, without letting the chief finish, she whirled and raced back towards the forge with the little girl in her arms. There were shouts behind her and the sounds of guards racing out the neighbouring houses to support the chief, but she was faster. She left a small sandstorm in her wake as she kicked through the streets, reminding herself to apologise profusely to everyone she passed by later¡ªfor just this one hour before noon, Smith Jaleel was kind enough to close off the forge for public visit so she could have the tools all to herself. She had to make this time count. [Well, it is not as much that he is ¡®kind¡¯ as you are annoying, pestering him to let you use his forge in the middle of the day,] Eria muttered, as the little girl buried her face in Dahlia¡¯s shoulder and tried not to get too much sand in her eye; Dahlia would apologise to her, too, for kidnapping her afterwards. I¡¯ll pay him back later for the number of customers he would¡¯ve usually gotten in this one hour! It¡¯s no problem! [That would come out to fifteen hundred silvers. Do you have that much?] ¡­ [Better make this hour count, then.] Eria sighed. [You could just as easily wait twelve hours and do this in the middle of the night when you would not be disturbing his business, but¡­ well. I can understand the sentiment of wanting to work when you are still in the ¡®zone¡¯.] Eria¡¯s word of encouragement gave her a bit of confidence as she bounded up the stairs to Smith Jaleel¡¯s forge. The burly man was already waiting there, sitting on his workbench with his arms crossed. He looked pointedly at the clock dangling at the doorway as though to say her hour began ten minutes ago, to which she simply returned a grateful nod, gently letting the little girl off on the other workbench she¡¯d pushed to the centre of the forge. She¡¯d taken the soft bedding from her own room to wrap around the workbench, and hopefully it was more comfortable than the bare wooden table she¡¯d made the little girl lie on in Safi¡¯s tavern. Comfort really wasn¡¯t the highest priority, again, but the forging process was going to take about thirty minutes¡ªshe wanted the little girl to watch her the entire time, and, preferably, the chief as well. She didn¡¯t want anyone having any doubts about what she was doing. With the little girl placed softly onto the workbench and told by Smith Jaleel to stay still, she whirled around the centre of the forge, checking to see if all the necessary parts were here. Giant locust plates sitting on the ground, check. Tongs and knives hanging off hooks on the walls, check. Bright orange flames in the furnace, check. A bucket filled with quenching oil right next to the anvil, check. Everything was ready. [¡­ Beginning construction of locust prosthetic leg, seventh prototype, version twenty-eight,] Eria said, projecting the exact dimensions of the little girl¡¯s current prosthetic onto the anvil next to her. [Good luck, Dahlia Sina.] And then she was off. Right as the chief and her guards stepped into the forge, she yanked out four long tongs and grabbed four plates of giant locust chitin off the ground with each of her arms, sticking all of them into the furnace at the same time. The flames were strong, but not strong enough. She turned the tongs around as she stomped on the bellows with all her might, sweat dripping down her brows, her face covered in grime and soot¡ªwell, she hadn¡¯t washed herself off for two days straight¡ªand she focused on heating each plate evenly, making sure the flames could get into every nook and cranny and turn the plates bright red. This was the first vital step; if the heat wasn¡¯t just right, the plates wouldn¡¯t soften properly. Tell me when the temperature is just right, she thought, gritted her teeth as she tried not to focus on the heat spreading through the chitin, through the tongs, and then up into her arms. Not one minute longer, not one second longer. [Counting down from five minutes.] Four. [Three.] Two. [One.] [Now.] Five minutes of intense bellows stomping passed. She yanked all four plates out of the fire and slammed them down onto the same anvil with a spark of embers, making the chief and the guards flinch; the little girl¡¯s eyes, however, were wide and glimmering. Dahlia smiled softly at the little girl before looking down at Eria¡¯s projection of the prosthetic leg she had to make. It wasn¡¯t exactly like a human leg¡ªthe foot was flat and clawed like a locust¡¯s tarsus¡ªbut there was no point in making a prosthetic out of insect parts if she was just going to make it completely humanlike. So, while the plates were still glowing red, she sucked in a sharp breath and smashed them all together with her bare hands. Instant pain. They weren¡¯t nine hundred degrees hot, but they were close. She almost flailed and jerked her hands away, but if she did that, she¡¯d fling them all around and hurt everyone around her¡ªshe¡¯d most certainly reeled away dozens upon dozens of times the past week while she was practising and experimenting, and it never got easier. Not even once. ¡®Ease¡¯ had nothing to do with what she was resolved to do. Steam sputtered from her palms as she gritted her teeth and pushed through the pain, moulding the malleable plates, working them into a giant glowing ball before stretching it out into the approximate length of the prosthetic leg. It was just like Safi pulling hard candy right out of the fire, and only the Great Makers knew how many hours she¡¯d spent watching him work in the kitchen when she wasn¡¯t working in the forge. From her shoulders down to her elbows and down to the tip of her claws, she controlled the shape of the malleable chitin with her fingers, pulling here, pushing there, carving off excess chitin wherever she saw fit. Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work! If it weren¡¯t for the other tier two mutation she¡¯d unlocked a few days ago, ¡®Base Chitin Development¡¯, the black skin on the palm of her hands would¡¯ve been completely burnt off by now. The thin chitin plates that grew over her forearms were just thick enough to make sure her hands couldn¡¯t catch on fire, and they were decently heat-resistant, too. As long as she didn¡¯t stay in contact with the glowing chitin for longer than four seconds at a time, she could endure¡ªshe could mould a prosthetic from a single glowing ball of chitin by hand, and it was something only she could make. This was no generic Swarmsteel. And as the crowd watched in stunned silence for the next twenty minutes or so, the prosthetic began to take form. She carved the protruding ankle joint. She plucked out the little grippy claws at the base of the foot. She pressed her entire fist into the top of the leg to make a sheathe¡ªthat was where the little girl¡¯s stump was going to fit into¡ªand just about time, she ¡®sensed¡¯ the chitin was going to enter its rapid cooling phase. If she just let it rest on the anvil for thirty more minutes, it¡¯d cool and harden into a normal Swarmsteel, no better than the hundreds of prototypes she¡¯d discarded the past week while trying to figure out how to make the ¡®right¡¯ Swarmsteel for the little girl. So, right on the twenty-ninth minute mark, she picked up the burning prosthetic and dumped it into the bucket of quenching oil. The bucket was bolted to the ground, but still it rattled, hissed, and threatened to bubble oil everywhere. Smith Jaleel held out an arm to push the chief and the guards back just in case it exploded. For her part, Dahlia didn¡¯t hesitate¡ªwhile her arms were still steaming and shaking, she grabbed a knife off the wall and cut deep into one of her palms. Then, she gripped her bleeding hand into a fist, holding it over the bucket and letting her golden blood squeeze into the oil. It was like magic. It was magic. Because when the quenching oil eventually stopped bubbling and she pulled out the prosthetic with a tong, the leg was a far cry from the muddy, dirty brown chitin it¡¯d been before forging. Now, its surface gleamed with a smooth sheen of gold, streaks of black running along the etchings where she¡¯d twirled her claws across absentmindedly. She hadn¡¯t even intended on those black thread-like streaks, but looking at them now, they certainly made the prosthetic ¡®prettier¡¯ by her standards. To the little girl lying on the workbench, eyes still wide and glimmering, she was sure this prosthetic looked pretty too.
[Desert Locust Prosthetic Leg (Quality = D)(Spd +0/2)(Tou +0/4)(Strain +85)]
¡­ Alright. Now this is the true test. Raising the prosthetic above her head, she spun it around to check for any obvious cracks, dents, and deformations. Smith Jaleel swiftly removed the little girl¡¯s current prosthetic in the meantime, so when she was sure this was, by far, her best prosthetic yet, she trudged over to the little girl and looked to the chief for permission. Naturally, the chief was apprehensive. Looking between the guards and Smith Jaleel, then between Dahlia and her daughter¡ªbut when she saw the little girl wasn''t even looking back in worry, she turned to Dahlia and swallowed hard. Dahlia got a slow, pensive nod. That was the go-ahead she needed to slip the sheathe over the little girl''s stump, and the moment she did¨C The little girl shivered from head to toe, a jolt rippling up her spine as the prosthetic foot¡¯s claws curled in response to Dahlia¡¯s touch. ¡­ Smith Jaleel was the first to raise his brow, but before he could say anything, the little girl swung her legs off the table. The golden-black prosthetic remained glued onto her stump. Immediately, she hopped off and leaned all her weight on the prosthetic; the prosthetic held. She kicked her prosthetic out and tried to curl her locust claws around the legs of the workbench; the claws moved in response to her nerves. Then she pursed her lips, face puffing in a way that made her look like a marshmallow, and¡ªshe leapt two metres straight into the chief¡¯s arms, surprising even Dahlia as she broke into a triumphant cry. While Smith Jaleel and the guards and the chief surrounded the little girl, peppering her with a hundred questions in their Sharaji tongue, Dahlia stumbled back into a stool and sat down with a shaky breath. [... Your blood makes Swarmsteel adaptable,] Eria whispered, as she reached for a bandage and wrapped up her bloody right palm. [An assassin bug, an assassin bug¡­ even before you unlocked your mutation tree, you were already incredibly capable of melding with Swarmsteel. Armour that would normally cost you fifty percent of your strain limit would cost only five percent instead. That is how you managed to equip so many Swarmsteel for your final fight with the firefly without dying at the starting line.] Thanks. [But to use your own assassin bug blood as a component in all your future Swarmsteel to make them easier to meld with¡­ I cannot condone it,] Eria said sternly, hopping off her shoulder and onto the empty anvil, shaking its head slowly. [That low-strain prosthetic you just made can grow alongside the girl. If she doubles in strength, her prosthetic would also double in strength. Provided she maintains it every once in a while, she would never have to take it off again for the rest of her life¡­ you do not understand just how powerful Swarmsteel that can grow along with their users are.] How so? Eria stared at her like she was stupid. [The weakness of Swarmsteel is always the insanely high strain cost. An untrained human cannot equip more than one Swarmsteel without severely debilitating themselves. To not only be able to make Swarmsteel with a tenth of their usual strain cost, but also be able to make Swarmsteel that can ¡®evolve¡¯ depending on the attributes of the user equipping them¡­ there is a reason the Hasharana keep that Lesser Great Mutant¡¯s adaptable parts a closely guarded secret. It is a power worth fighting a war over. If word gets out from this town that your blood can be used to make adaptable Swarmsteel, every notable faction on this continent, human or Swarm, would¨C] I¡¯m just making a leg for someone who lost theirs, she thought, smiling softly when she saw the little girl jumping outside the forge, bouncing three, four, five metres into the air without any issues; it appeared her prosthetic also gave its user a fair amount of attribute levels. Don¡¯t worry. I¡¯ll still be careful. I¡¯ll tell the chief to tell the townsfolk not to spread the word around just in case. I just¡­ that golden-black Swarmsteel is something that only I can make, right? [...] Eria sighed again, but it was with a hint of amusement this time. There were other voices in the back as well, and all of them replied at the exact same time. [You are our ¡®Make-Whatever¡¯, after all,] Issam whispered. [Not bad for your hundredth or something prosthetic,] Raya muttered. [I mean, I figured out your blood could probably be used as a component a long time ago. If your mom was an assassin bug and your dad turned into one because he drank her blood, then you, their blood daughter, would also have the blood of an assassin bug in you. Tch. If only you¡¯d accepted me back in Alshifa. You could¡¯ve made way stronger Swarmsteel than what you¨C] [Shut it, Raya. Just congratulate her for once,] Amula snapped, and she giggled a little with her eyes closed, hearing someone getting kicked behind her ears. [Sure, we knew all along your ancestral bloodline could be used to make adaptable Swarmsteel, but it¡¯s meaningless if you didn¡¯t figure it out yourself. ¡®Blood and sweat and tears¡¯ isn¡¯t complete without ¡®blood¡¯, eh? This is a good, strong step forward, so just keep practising. Ignore Eria¡¯s warnings. I, for one, would love to see what kind of Swarmsteel you can make from now on.] [Me too!] Ayla said. [Me three,] Aylee said. [Thweep!] Jerie chirped, pointless as ever. [Thweep! Thweep thweep, thweep¨C] [Don¡¯t listen to ¡®them¡¯, Dahlia Sina,] Eria said, voice exceedingly soothing, calming; it felt like a cold blanket being wrapped around her head. [Listen to me. I speak for the good of humanity. You have no doubt unlocked a new level of Swarmsteel making, but if you are reckless with how you use your blood, you can start a war amongst humankind like we have never seen before. For the time being, until I am better able to understand what an ¡®assassin bug¡¯ really is, please refrain from making adaptable Swarmsteel again.] ¡­ Dahlia opened her eyes and nodded slowly, smiling at Eria. Looking at the little girl now, though, I kinda wanna make a locust Swarmsteel for my own legs. [A normal Swarmsteel is perfectly fine, yes,] Eria said, nodding quickly. [You should get some rest first, however. It has been two days, fifteen hours, and nineteen minutes since you last washed yourself. Please wash yourself to minimise the risk of open wound infections.] Got it. [...] ¡­ Can I just make the Swarmsteel really quick first? I don¡¯t wanna lose the rhythm¨C [Please wash yourself to minimise the risk of open wound infections.] Chapter 52 - Undertown Trap Another week passed before Dahlia received a letter from Alice early in the morning, telling her to head out to the undertown ruin and bring Safi with her. It was a letter devoid of the Hasharana¡¯s usual quips and ramblings, so she assumed it was serious; she departed alongside Safi at noon with two camels, and raced off as fast as they could until Cacip came into sight. It was still an undertown nestled at the bottom of a giant desert crater, but Dahlia was decently surprised when she saw about a hundred, maybe even two hundred townsfolk crawling all over the undertown. They were tiny dots in the distance, but the shouts and songs of hard work and labour were more than audible. Wanting to get a closer look at what they were doing, she tied her camel next to the other camels the townsfolk had left on the edge of the crater and slid down, followed closely by Safi behind her. On her way down, she started being able to pick out the finer details. The undertown ruin may have been a desolate relic just two weeks ago, but now the townsfolk had fixed giant white tarps over the broken buildings, rolled steel barrels over every roof, and laid out tons of scaffolding across the sandy streets as though they were actually intent on rebuilding the entire undertown. There were guards directing builders to their designated sites, housewives hanging wet tarps to dry on makeshift clotheslines, and even a few children playing around with Risha balls¡ªmost likely, their parents were working out here and they wanted to follow. For all intents and purposes, the giant locust carcasses had all been cleared out and hauled back to the Oasis Town, and the townsfolk had cleaned the streets enough to get rid of the lingering musk of rot and death. If Dahlia closed her eyes and only listened, ignoring the sunlight bearing down on her skin, she could almost imagine herself back in Alshifa¡­ and she felt she could imagine it even more vividly, too, when someone surprised her from behind and wrung their arms around her shoulder, the same way Issam would jump into her whenever he saw her wandering around. Alice was much stronger than Issam, of course, so getting jumped into by the Hasharana hurt a lot more. ¡°You¡¯re both late!¡± Alice said, grinning at her and Safi; the old chef sighed and continued dragging his heavy rucksacks along the ground, heading towards the centre of the undertown. Dahlia watched Safi leave the two of them behind, frowning, and then she turned to scowl at Alice. ¡°Why have I been called out here?¡± she muttered, leaning back and forth and trying to squirm out of Alice¡¯s arms. ¡°I was¡­ busy. Making. I was so, so close to adding on the pretty finishing touches¨C¡± ¡°I heard you¡¯ve been making Swarmsteel lately. Is this what you were working on?¡± Ignoring her completely, Alice let go of her shoulder and knelt, squinting right next to her legs. Dahlia reeled away, feeling a bit squirmy being stared at so intently, but¡­ it was something new, and, in truth, she was a little glad that Alice noticed instead of brushing it off as nothing special. Her new project in question was based off the adaptable Swarmsteel prosthetic she¡¯d made for the little girl, and she was wearing it around her legs right now: two hand-moulded giant locust greaves on each leg coming up to her thighs, the knee and ankle joints made flexible by carving off a bit of chitin around them and connecting the separated plates with bronze springs and wires instead. Her feet were wrapped snugly by five-toed chitin shoes that closely mimicked her real feet¡ªunlike the three-clawed foot she made for the little girl¡¯s prosthetic¡ªand so far, the whole Swarmsteel was quite promising. They gave her legs a bit of protection, the chitin was breathable, and, perhaps most important of all, they didn¡¯t stand out from the rest of her outfit. Quenched dyed in her blood, her locust greaves were streaked in beautiful strands of gold and black, and she thought they looked rather pretty.
[2x Desert Locust Greave (Quality = D)(Spd +1/2](Tou +1/4)(Strain +216)]
¡°... They¡¯re tough, aren¡¯t they?¡± Alice asked, rapping a knuckle on her shin plates to test its hardiness. ¡°And the springs on the knees and ankles are¡­ suppression springs? How high up can you jump and land without breaking your legs?¡± Dahlia pursed her lips. ¡°Well, if I broke my legs even once these past two weeks, I wouldn¡¯t be here with you,¡± she said, withdrawing her legs as she looked away, heat rushing to her cheeks. ¡°For your information, though, I think it¡¯s around ten metres. I jumped off the bell tower to see if the springs would reduce the impact, and they did. Kinda. I can¡¯t tell if it¡¯s the Swarmsteel or my natural toughness protecting me, though.¡± ¡°Eh. That happens once your attribute levels are high enough. You think you can move around decently in them, though?¡± ¡°Hm? Yeah, I¡­ guess. They give me an extra level in speed, and I¡¯m still working on fine-tuning the springs so they don¡¯t snap when I fall from heights above ten metres, but¨C¡± ¡°Well, it¡¯s good enough as long as you can run and jump around with them.¡± Alice bounced to her feet and started leading Dahlia forward, waving off the townsfolk around them as she did. The guards and builders and housewives and children immediately vacated from their workstations, beginning their ascent up to the edge of the crater. It seemed like everyone but the two of them and Safi were leaving, but for what reason, Dahlia didn¡¯t know¡ªshe¡¯d been completely focused on making Swarmsteel the past two weeks and hadn''t paid any attention to Alice¡¯s plans in Cacip. But, if she had to guess why Alice was telling everyone to leave now¡­ ¡°Are the traps for Madamaron finished?¡± she asked, looking around in worry as Alice flung two arms around her shoulder once again, refusing to let her run off. ¡°What have you been telling them to do the past two weeks, anyways? What¡¯s with all the wet tarps and barrels and scaffolding?¡± Alice looked at her pointedly. ¡°They¡¯re the traps,¡± she said, guiding both of them towards the centre of town where Safi¡¯s back was turned towards them, dumping the contents of his rucksacks into a giant pit they¡¯d dug over a broken water fountain. ¡°Took a little while longer to finish than I would¡¯ve liked, but hey, as long as they¡¯re finished. I thought about taking it easy for the rest of the day since everyone¡¯s been working hard the past two weeks, but¡­ well, the longer we wait, the more time we¡¯re giving Madamaron to grow. I¡¯d rather it not notice we¡¯re setting a trap for it in its usual feeding grounds.¡± The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings. Dahlia blinked slowly. ¡°So¡­ what you¡¯re saying is¨C¡± ¡°The traps are done, so we¡¯re luring out and killing Madamaron today,¡± Alice said casually, waving and hollering at Safi as she did. ¡°Uncleeee! Torch the meat! Drag the bug out from its hiding hole!¡± It was only now that Dahlia noticed what was inside the rucksacks Safi had insisted they carry with them on their camels: every variety of raw insect meat he had stored in the back of his tavern. So close to the water fountain where all the meat was dumped into a hole, she could taste their stinging, acidic scents in the air with her antennae, and she could just as well smell the smoke coming from the small matchstick in Safi¡¯s hand¡ªshe could do nothing but watch from a distance, then, as he tossed the matchstick down the hole, roasting the meat in a roaring, belching pit of fire. Then the old man started walking away calmly, headed towards the edge of the undertown to climb out of the crater himself. ¡°... What?¡± she said, glancing around just in time to see Alice vanishing with a gust of wind. She tried to take a step forward, but suddenly, she noticed her four arms were tied to her torso with multiple rolls of glowing red threads. She couldn¡¯t move her arms. Scowling, she spotted Alice jumping between two roofs to properly tie her anchoring threads down¡ªsecuring her in the middle of the street¡ªand she started shouting up at the Hasharana, doing her best to kick up waves of sand in protest. ¡°Hey!¡± she snapped, brows furrowing, sweat beading down her forehead as her antennae stood up straight; she felt something rumbling beneath the ground, trying to burrow up to the surface. ¡°What¡¯s this about? We¡¯re killing Madamaron now? No preparation, no plans, nothing?¡± ¡°We do have a plan, though?¡± Alice said nonchalantly, jumping to a roof on her left, tying another anchoring thread to strengthen the thin cocoon keeping her arms pressed to her torso. ¡°Uncle Safi cooks all the reserve meat in his tavern at once, and the smell attracts Madamaron. It surfaces, eats all the meat, and then it turns around¡ªlook! There¡¯s a four-armed little bug girl all tied up in front of it! There¡¯s no way it won¡¯t charge at you thinking you¡¯re free food, right?¡± Dahlia clicked her tongue in exasperation, struggling in vain; it was getting more and more difficult to squirm out of Alice¡¯s threads by the second. ¡°What, so you called me out here just to be bait? Why me? Isn¡¯t it good enough luring Madamaron out with the burning meat?¡± ¡°I wanna see how fast it¡¯ll charge at you, though. If it¡¯s at the speed of a Lesser Great Mutant, I might have to change up my strategy a little.¡± ¡°And what¡¯ll happen to me if it is super fast?¡± Alice, who¡¯d jumped to a roof on her right, glanced down at her very briefly. ¡°Eh.¡± The Hasharana shrugged nonchalantly. ¡°There¡¯s no need to worry, really. Even if it does turn out to be a Lesser Great Mutant, I can probably deal with it before it gets to you.¡± ¡°Probably?¡± ¡°There are only two things certain in life¨C¡± ¡°This isn¡¯t funny! Get me out of here!¡± Alice shook her head and chuckled, as though saying ¡®no can do¡¯. ¡°Let¡¯s make a catchphrase that only we can understand!¡± she chirped, raising a finger. ¡°You¡¯ll say¡­ oh, I dunno! Since you¡¯re from a ruined undertown, why not something like ¡®upon the bed of carcasses¡¯? That sounds cool! Whenever you say that, I¡¯ll say ¡®the flightless moth lies¡¯, and then whoosh! I¡¯ll jump in to save you!¡± ¡°What the hell are you¨C¡± Then, she vanished¡ªleaving Dahlia¡¯s arms and torso wrapped in a cocoon, kept from moving away by a hundred glowing threads tying her to buildings on both sides of the street. [I did mention all Arcana Hasharana are a little¡­ strange in the head,] Eria said, offering her condolences. [I do not believe she was lying when she said she would protect you, though. It might be ideal to simply remain where you are.] She glared down at Eria on her shoulder, sending it a furious, glowering look. She could¡¯ve asked if I wanted to be bait, at least. [Would you have agreed even if she had asked?] Well, no, but¡­ I would feel better, at least, even if she tied me up afterwards¨C Their mental chatter was disturbed by a massive geyser of sand blowing out from under the water fountain, and the only thing Dahlia saw, as she whipped her head forward to stare at the rising cloud of sand, was the shadow of a five-metre-tall giant swallowing the burning flesh in a single loud gulp. ¡­ As the cloud of sand settled slowly, she saw its hunched and feral posture, the segmented turtle-like shell over its back, and its thickly layered arms and legs. It had four arms. No wings. Its full-body chitin was a grimy palette of earth tones, and streams of sand trickled out from little pores in its shell-like carapace. It had a vaguely humanoid head; bony spines jutting out its scalp like particularly spiky hair, and while it had two little beady eyes facing forward, it had two giant shear-like mandibles in place of a human jaw. It was every bit like the Mutant firefly in that sense¡ªDahlia felt she could even see the faint ¡®aura¡¯ of reddish, pinkish swirls of air around it, and its aura made it just that much more difficult to stare at. And while she¡¯d thought she¡¯d grown a fair bit stronger since her last encounter with a Mutant, the fact of the matter was, she found herself frozen as Madamaron turned to stare straight at her. There was something incredibly off about it, and it wasn¡¯t just because it was obviously much, much bigger than the Mutant firefly¡ªshe just couldn¡¯t place her antennae on what exactly that was. [... ¡®Madamaron¡¯, the Destroyer,] Eria mused. [It really is a Mutant antlion nymph after all¨C] Are you sure? Clicking its mandibles in delight, all five-metre-nothing of the Mutant antlion charged at her, and it kicked off with so much power that it tore up the street behind it with an explosive boom. For Dahlia¡¯s part, she was just staring blankly back at the stampeding bug. Listening. Feeling. ¡­ Is this really Madamaron? Chapter 53 - Antlion Nymph Madamaron charged at her, kicking off with so much power that it tore up the street behind it with an explosive boom. For Dahlia¡¯s part, she was still tied up in the middle of the street, unable to make a getaway for herself. ¡­ Screw this. Bending her knees, she made sure to compress the springs around her knees as much as possible before she jumped¡ªthe jagged edges on her desert locust greaves shredding Alice¡¯s threads. She leapt six metres up onto the nearest roof, just narrowly dodging out of the way as Madamaron barrelled past where she stood, and she was glad she made an attempt to escape. Four arms, four silk longswords, Alice slammed into Madamaron head-on to match it arm-to-arm, and if she hadn¡¯t jumped out of the way, she would¡¯ve been crushed between the two of them. What happened to protecting me? [She likely believed you would be able to escape from her threads by yourself.] I swear, I¡¯m going to¨C Being on the roof wasn¡¯t far enough. She was still in the way. Madamaron swatted Alice into a nearby building like a boy would slap away a fly, and the impact jolted her out of her thoughts; there wasn¡¯t even a second to spare as she leaped away, hopping back onto another roof as the giant antlion ran through the building she¡¯d been standing on, decimating it in a single good charge. It was a five-metre-tall giant after all, completely unlike the human-sized Mutant firefly. She couldn¡¯t even imagine a building could fall on it and crush it to death. ¡­ Something still nagged at the back of her head, though, as Alice shot out the building she¡¯d been sent flying into with giant silk spears in each hand, swinging at Madamron¡¯s nape from four separate directions. The Mutant whirled and matched each of her spears with an arm, its sandy chitin where they came in contact with her weapons; the ¡®fight¡¯ only began now, and it wasn¡¯t like anything Dahlia had seen before. She was reminded of Raya¡¯s solo fight against the Mutant firefly. Alice was an absolute pest, dashing and dodging and using her smaller frame to weave between Madamaron¡¯s wild swings in the middle of the street. She didn¡¯t stick with a single type of weapon. Spears, swordstaffs, hammers, axes, and sickles were all part of her armament, and she tested each type thoroughly on every part of the giant antlion. Madamaron had a turtle-like shell on its back, so she tried to crack its shell with her blunt weapons. Madamaron had a hundred bony spikes jutting out its joints, so she tried to snip and cleave those off with giant scissors and curved blades. It didn¡¯t seem like an even fight whatsoever. Alice dictated the momentum, musing and laughing and squinting at her opponent as though she were studying it mid-fight¨C Until Madamaron got irritated, plunged all four of its arms into the sandstone ground, and made the undertown vibrate. Dahlia jumped back once more as every building in a thirty metre radius collapsed, the foundations sinking into giant sandpits Madamaron was instantly able to create with its ripples. This must be how it phased through the walls of the sandstone houses. Alice, of course, showed no fear. Even with the buildings sinking all around and the ground being as unstable as it was, she pressed forward with a relentless flurry of attacks, cutting and carving off as many bony spikes off its body as she could. Those spikes regrew mostly in the blink of an eye, and¡­ Dahlia frowned, finding it strange Madamaron was backpedalling so hard. Was it on defence because Alice was faster than it, or was it waiting for Alice to tire herself out? The speed at which it regrew its bony spikes gave her a hint, and when it suddenly curled into a giant ball to hide under its turtle-like shell, she jumped forward with her greaves and slammed into Alice mid-air¡ªtackling the Hasharana into a narrow alley just as a hundred spikes shot out from its shell to decimate everything in its line of sight. How is that an antlion ability? She thought, wincing as she tumbled into a roll alongside Alice. Aren¡¯t they just good at making sandpits? Do they just have random projectile abilities now? [You must remember that, at the end of the day¨C] ¡°Mutants aren¡¯t your normal giant insects!¡± Alice said, shooting Dahlia a grin as she jumped to her feet and patted sand off her crimson cloak. ¡°This is fun, isn¡¯t it! It¡¯s a bit challenging! Granted, I am an Arcana Hasharana, so I should probably be able to finish it off within a few more minutes, but¡­¡± Dahlia flinched when a bony spike stabbed into the wall next to them, scowling at Alice as she did. ¡°But what? What¡¯s the point of the traps if you¡¯re just going to fight it head-on like that?¡± ¡°I was just testing its basic physical strength and speed! It¡¯s definitely not on the level of a Lesser Great Mutant, so that¡¯s good to know!¡± ¡°You were testing it? You almost killed me¨C¡± ¡°And now that we know it¡¯s not a Lesser Great Mutant, we¡¯re going to kill it! Distract it for around a minute for me, will you? I¡¯ll get all the fuses lit!¡± Without waiting for a response, Alice vanished with a puff of sand, leaping over a sinking building. At the same time, heavy footsteps charged towards her¡ªDahlia leaped instinctively as well, dodging out of the way as Madamaron smashed into the alley. What¡¯s her deal? I told her I didn¡¯t want to fight¨C [Focus. Survive for one minute. Run.] The spikes on Madamaron¡¯s turtle-like shell were poking in and out all jittery, and she recalled the Mutant firefly¡¯s area lightning blast¡ªthe spike attack it just did was probably similar to that. She figured Madamaron shouldn¡¯t be able to reuse that wide-area instant-kill attack for at least a few more minutes, so Eria was probably right. She didn¡¯t need to fight back; just distracting Madamaron for a minute until Alice was finished ¡®lighting the fuses¡¯ had to be her best bet. ¡­ Oh, dammit. She landed on a nearby sinking roof and popped her status screen open, checking her attributes.
[// STATUS] [Name: Dahlia Sina] [Class: Assassin Bug] [BloodVolume: 4.6/4.8 (96%), Strain: 789/1452 (54%)] [Unallocated Points: 89] [// BASIC ATTRIBUTES] [Strength: 7 (+4), Speed: 6 (+1), Dexterity: 8 (+5), Toughness: 5 (+1), Perceptivity: 5, StrainLimit: 1452] [// MUTATION TREE] [T1 Core Mutation | Nymphal Metamorphosis] {T1 Branch Mutation | ???} This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there. [T2 Core Mutations | Base Chitin Development | Dagger Antennae] {T2 Branch Mutations | ??? | ???} [// UNIQUE SWARMSTEEL LIST] [2x Assassin Bug Claw Gauntlet (Quality = C)(Str +4/12)(Dex +5/5)(Tou + 0/5)(Strain +395)] [2x Desert Locust Greave (Quality = D)(Spd +1/2)(Tou +1/4)(Strain +216)]
¡­ I don¡¯t have enough points to unlock a tier three core mutation, right? [You do not. Those would require a hundred and fifty points per mutation.] Then put all of my points into speed. Get it as high as I can so¨C
[Speed: 6 ¡ú 8] [Unallocated Points: 89 ¡ú 4]
Eria couldn¡¯t have acted any faster. She saw Madamaron¡¯s motions slow as it pounced at her in real time, its claws ripping through the building she was standing on. Her legs jumped away on instinct and she started backing through the undertown¡ªher deadly game of tag with Madamaron beginning with Eria counting down in her head. [Sixty seconds.] The dodges were mad and almost impossible, but somehow, she was managing. Blow after blow, Madamaron was always just a step behind her, running on all fours like a hound as it tore up the ground with its extra arms. The easy-to-shatter sandstone buildings worked against it as she purposefully sprinted across narrow alleys and jumped through windows into tiny houses, using whatever debris she could create to slow it down. Madamaron seemed just as irritated as she was, stumbling and falling whenever a particularly large chunk of sandstone crashed into its head. [Forty seconds.] Frustrated, Madamaron punched through a whole street of buildings and sent a wave of debris flying her way, and her antennae tingled. She glanced around. She jumped, curling into a ball mid-air and bracing her torso with her desert locust greaves; most of the debris simply smashed into the tough chitin and bounced her through a wall relatively unharmed. As she coughed and clawed to her feet, she felt incredibly relieved that she¡¯d spent so much time on her greaves¡ªshe wasn¡¯t sure how much shrapnel would be stuck in her legs by now if she didn¡¯t have them on. [Twenty seconds.] [Come on, Dahlia.] [Get up and focus¨C] Easier said than done. Before she could vault out the window on the other side of the abandoned building, the whole place started shuddering, the foundations sinking into a massive sand pit. She lost her balance. She landed hard on her rear and started sliding as the building tilted sideways, falling into the desert. It was only glaring at the hatch to the ceiling above her that she was able to visualise the steel path telling her how to cut it open¡ªand she jumped, slashing the hatch open to soar out of the building as the sandpit swallowed it whole. Too little too late, though. Madamaron was already waiting for her outside the building, standing stoically on two legs, and it caught her out of the air with its giant shear-like mandibles. Shit! Her arms flew down to intercept before the sawed edges could bisect her in half by her waist, but she was just barely strong enough to stop its mandibles. She let out a gasp of pain as the sawed edges cut through her thin chitin, through her palms, and started digging into her bones. Every strand of muscle in her four arms strained as they¡¯d never before. Her whole body clenched as she tried to find an opportunity to slip out of its mandibles, but Madamaron was just staring at her with its giant eyes. If it wanted to use its hands to squeeze her to death right now, it absolutely could¡ªit simply relished in killing her slowly like the abnormal bug it was. Is she¡­ expecting me to get out of this one¡­ by myself as well? I¡­ I can¡¯t¡­ this Mutant is¡­ ¡°... Upon the bed of carcasses¨C¡± ¡°The flightless moth lies!¡± A voice shrieked from above. ¡°Sorry for the wait! I¡¯m back!¡± There was red blur in the sky. The shadow of a moth gliding overhead, blotting out the sun. Both Dahlia and Madamaron glanced up for a brief moment, and in that moment¡ªa giant glaive crashed down like thunder, severing Madamaron¡¯s mandibles and releasing Dahlia from its deadly grip. Her arms were burning and throbbing with pain, but still she managed to hop away onto a nearby roof, distancing herself from the howling and screeching antlion. She glared at Alice standing in the middle of the street immediately afterwards, but Alice merely returned a smirk and a simple thumbs-up. Then, the Arcana Hasharana pulled her giant silk glaive back¡ªa three-metre-long weapon so thick and clunky she needed all four hands just to wield it improperly. Her fingers couldn¡¯t even wrap around the shaft completely, but¡­ it didn¡¯t matter. When Madamaron recovered from its bleeding mandibles and screeched at Alice, she simply took a step forward and pivoted her entire body, slamming the massive glaive into its torso. The blade didn¡¯t cut, but the sheer weight behind the impact shattered Madamron¡¯s chitin, throwing it into the adjacent building. Before it could get off its shell and crawl onto its feet, Alice jumped, fanned her defunct crimson wings out¡ªthe winds created from her own attack making her hover in the air¡ªand then slammed her glaive directly down its torso again, slamming it deeper into the ground. The impact shook the undertown. The winds that rushed out blew back against her wings, letting Alice hover mid-air as she brought the massive glaive down repeatedly, as though hammering a crooked nail that just wouldn¡¯t go through the wood. Dahlia braced her arms before her face to stop sand from getting into her eyes, but even through it, she could see Madamaron was in no shape or form to get back up; the final straw was when Alice twirled the glaive around, stabbing it down through Madamaron¡¯s chest to impale it to the ground. Madamaron let out a furious, unholy screech unlike any other, and while it struggled to yank her glaive out and Dahlia clamped her hands over her ears¡ªAlice dashed next to her, grabbing her waist before beginning a series of mad hops across the roofs. ¡°We¡¯re running!¡± ¡­ Dahlia wanted to ask ¡®why¡¯, of course. It felt like Alice had Madamaron dead to rights, but she felt like a sack of reeds as Alice carried her under-arm, her head spinning at the speed they were hopping away from Madamaron at. She couldn¡¯t think. She couldn¡¯t speak. Within ten seconds Alice had hopped all the way to the edge of the undertown, and within ten more seconds they¡¯d already hopped all the way up to the edge of the crater, where the townsfolk were all peeking down at their evil desert god impaled to the ground¨C And then the literal ¡®fuses¡¯ lit. As Alice let go of her and she whirled around, the undertown below her exploded into a maelstrom of light and fire, great flame tongues leaping skyways. The sandstone buildings themselves seemed to ignite, transforming into molten slag of gold and amber. Heat immediately rushed upwards, blasting everyone¡¯s faces with a suffocating wave, an immense physical force that knocked even Alice off her feet. Dahlia didn¡¯t fall, though. She watched, eyes watering with pain as the crater transformed into what she could only describe as a pit to hell¡ªflames dancing with malevolent glee as they turned the screaming Madamaron, still impaled in the very centre of the undertown, into the first and last tormented in its god-killing heat. ¡°... Those tarps, flammable scaffolding, and barrels of oil we¡¯d been scattering across the undertown the past two weeks really came in handy, huh?¡± Alice said, grimacing as she rose and stood next to Dahlia, watching Madamaron bellow its dying throes. ¡°I figured it only attacked at night and hid under the desert because it¡¯s not actually all that adapted to living in the heat. In that case, I needed all the spilled oil to diffuse under the sand when it first vibrated the undertown so it can¡¯t burrow away to escape, and then I needed the entire rest of the undertown to catch on fire so even if it escapes from my glaive, it won¡¯t be able to run to the edges of the crater in time. You were good at running away messily and causing collateral damage! It barely noticed the oil diffusing under the entire crater!¡± ¡°...¡± Irritated, still, she smacked the back of Alice¡¯s head and scowled, refusing to look the Hasharana in the eye. Instead, she looked around at the townsfolk and saw¡ªfor the very first time¡ªthe glimmer of light and hope in their eyes. They probably couldn¡¯t believe what they were seeing: their greatest evil god burning in hellfire, unable to escape as though it were finally being punished by divine providence. ¡­ Is that really Madamaron, though? She didn¡¯t say it aloud because she wasn¡¯t completely sure, and Alice wasn¡¯t saying anything to interrupt the townsfolk¡¯s exuberant cheers. Maybe she was wrong; maybe the gut-feeling that was telling her it couldn¡¯t possibly be this ¡®easy¡¯ was just expecting something more dramatic from a Mutant that¡¯d been preying on the town for a decade. If a Hasharana had come to Alshifa¡¯s aid during the invasion, could they have dealt with the Mutant firefly without even breaking a sweat? [... Perhaps.] [Perhaps not.] [But what is done is done; that Mutant is dead, and you can watch it disintegrate into ash.] Even Eria seemed to think that was Madamaron, and maybe she had no business arguing with an ultra-advanced Swarmsteel, but¡­ the fact that Alice wasn¡¯t smiling down at the screaming Mutant made her even more unnerved. If Alice thought that was Madamaron, wouldn¡¯t she be a lot more gleeful watching it burn? ¡­ Dahlia didn¡¯t know. But today, four weeks after she arrived at the Sharaji Oasis Town, another Mutant was killed. And that had to be cause for celebration.
Arc Seven, ¡°Bloodburn¡±, End Interlude 12 - Tashia Little Alice doesn¡¯t understand what it means to speak for herself. It has been two months and two days since the old man picked her up from the streets of the City of Feasts, and she hasn¡¯t spoken a single word to him. Granted, he doesn¡¯t seem to know her tongue, but she has already learned his and everyone else¡¯s by simple manner of observation. The word ¡®Sharaji¡¯ is tossed around a lot, so she calls it the Sharaji Tongue¡ªlots of rolling words, lots of drawn-out sounds, really irritating to pronounce. She learned it anyways to hear what the patrons in the old man¡¯s restaurant liked to gossip about her. ¡°Her eyes are pooled with blood. How can she see out of those?¡± ¡°The shadows are drawn to her. Have you ever taken a proper look at her? You can¡¯t, right? It¡¯s like she doesn¡¯t even have a face.¡± ¡°I tried giving her a piece of candy once, but she just stared at it like it was a bug. What kind of girl doesn¡¯t like candy?¡± ¡°Why did Safi even pick her up?¡± ¡°What does he see in her?¡± ¡­ The old man¡¯s name is ¡®Safi¡¯. She knows that much. Whenever a patron gossips about her while she¡¯s washing dishes in the basin or scrubbing the floors with a mop, he¡¯d send her to the back of the kitchen while he tells the patron gently off¡ªas if she needs someone to defend her. Words don¡¯t kill people. Bugs do. The people here simply have so much peace that they don¡¯t know how to protect it. All of them are right about her, though. She doesn¡¯t know how to cook. She doesn¡¯t know how to wait a table properly. It has been two months and two days since she was unofficially hired to be the old man¡¯s restaurant assistant, and she still feels she is a poor fit for the duties of the position. Why must she apprentice under a peaceful man like him? Does he hope his easy-going spirit will rub off on her? That would imply she has a spirit to begin with, and she knows better than anyone else that her heart is utterly devoid of what the patrons call a ¡®personality¡¯. She has a hollow heart. On the second day of the second month, she decides to leave Safi¡¯s restaurant in the middle of the night. Her little bedroom is on the second floor, right above the kitchen, and while the old man is busy preparing the stockpot for tomorrow¡¯s servings, she sneaks out through the window without a single silver in her pockets. She¡¯d been getting generous allowances from the old man, but she doesn¡¯t want the money. She¡¯ll get her food and water from the flesh and blood of giant bugs. Carefree, she hops across the tall roofs of the City of Feasts, searching the shadowy alleys for any suspiciously large bugs to squash. Her antennae isn¡¯t very well developed, so she relies on her instinct and listens¡ªshe goes east for twenty minutes before she hears a commotion underneath. She looks down and sees a young girl trying to fend off a giant scorpion from reaching a group of younger children, all of them cornered in a moldy dead end. ¡°Blood,¡¯ little Alice whispers, ¡°to me.¡± Five blood threads fire out her right upper nails, twirling into a greatspear as she plummets at breakneck speed. She crashes into the scorpion¡¯s head and brings it down to its knees, but it survives the impact, quite surprisingly. It¡¯s more tenacious than she thought. Just as she prepares to rip her greatspear out and stab it again, its stinger flies at her from behind¨C Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. The young girl with the chain-whip snags the stinger, stopping it from reaching her. Later, as little Alice feasts on the raw scorpion flesh and all the children flee from the dead end corner, it is only the young girl who stays with her. ¡°... You¡¯re strong!¡± the girl breathes, clinging to the scorpion¡¯s head as little Alice picks out the toughest parts of its exposed flesh. ¡°I¡¯m Tashia! What¡¯s your name? Where did you learn how to fight? How did you make that spear out of thin air? Is that an insect ability?¡± ¡°...¡± Little Alice refuses to break eye contact with Tashia as she eats. If she just keeps staring, Tashia will eventually be unnerved by her bloody eyes and run off shuddering. Nobody likes her eyes¡ªmuch less when they¡¯re aglow and her lips are dribbling with the blood of giant bugs, her frame hunched over like a ghoul feasting on human flesh in the dead of night. But Tashia doesn¡¯t seem unnerved. On the contrary, she climbs onto the giant scorpion¡¯s carcass and sits next to little Alice. ¡°Do you know who the Tamera are?¡± Tashia asks, wrapping her chain-whip around her forearms. ¡°They¡¯re beast tamers from the Mori Masif Front! They speak to the bugs and bring them to their knees, just like you did, and my papa¡¯s one of them! He told me to go outside at night and practise with my chains until I bring home a giant¡¯s head, but you killed the scorpion for me instead!¡± Little Alice continues eating, unperturbed. No human has more ¡®right¡¯ over another when it comes to killing bugs. She killed the scorpion first, so Tashia cannot be angry¨C ¡°Teach me how to fight like you do!¡± ¡°...¡± Little Alice flinches when Tashia grabs one of her hands, pleading with wide, watery emerald eyes. She really is from the far eastern Mori Masif Front. The Tamera¡­ she¡¯d heard about those people back when she was studying in the Hasharana Academy, too. If she remembers correctly, they¡¯re a group of vagrants and wanderers who offer their ¡®pets¡¯ to anyone with the silvers to pay. The Worm God doesn¡¯t classify them as enemies of humanity¡ªthey do work with Hasharana sometimes¡ªbut, more often than not, they ruin entire ecosystems by introducing invasive bugs their owners have little true control over. The Tamera all use chain-whips as their signature weapons, and, in truth, little Alice found Tashia¡¯s manipulation of her weapon quite interesting to behold. Currently, little Alice only knows how to weave and wield four different weapons: shortswords, greatspears, round shields, and thin wire threads. They¡¯re good enough for the rabble that come out at night in the City of Feasts, but if she wants to kill bigger and stronger bugs, she¡¯ll need to gather more weapons. Maybe something will come out of spending time with Tashia. ¡°... Alice,¡± she mutters. It is her first word in an entire year. ¡°My name is¡­ Alice.¡± As the sun rises on the far horizon, Tashia shakes her hand and beams at her. The young girl¡¯s face is blurry in little Alice¡¯s eyes. It¡¯s only natural for her, of course. Most people¡¯s faces are like scribbles of ink to her, so she recognises most of Safi¡¯s patrons by their most distinct features. Tashia will not be any different. In an instant, little Alice marks down the young girl¡¯s identifiers in her mind¡ªlong white hair, crimson moth-wing cloak, and a bright and cheery smile to go along with the obnoxiously loud personality. ¡®Good enough¡¯, she thinks. ¡®I don¡¯t need to know any more about her.¡¯ All she has to do is stick with Tashia, and she¡¯s sure she¡¯d be able to ¡®copy¡¯ Tashia¡¯s weapon and fighting style in no time. - Scene from City of Feasts past Interlude 13 - Mimic Little Alice lives on the fifth baraca street, having run away from old Safi¡¯s restaurant, but Tashia keeps trying to get her to live together. Tashia¡¯s father is a Tamera, so Alice could probably have a comfortable life if she just moved in with Tashia, but comfort isn¡¯t conducive to getting stronger¡ªthe nights in the City of Feasts are dangerous, and they keep her on her toes. She likes being barely able to get a good night¡¯s rest. Maybe she doesn¡¯t need to do that, though. Tashia hangs out with her all the time. It has been two weeks and three days since she met the young Tamera, and apart from sleeping in an empty vegetable crate in a restaurant¡¯s back alley at night, she spends every waking moment chasing down giant bugs with Tashia. Giant ants on the first day, giant beetles on the second day, runaway moths on the third day¡­ they didn¡¯t bother taming any of their prey, but Alice wouldn¡¯t even have tried in the first place. She¡¯s simply glad Tashia didn¡¯t force her to waste time training and taking care of tamed bugs¡ªa bug-slayer slays bugs. She won¡¯t ride or command a giant bug for as long as she lives. That said, she still has no idea if Tashia is learning anything from hanging out with her. Her weapons are solid and sturdy, nothing like the young Tamera¡¯s flimsy chain-whip; if anything, she is the one learning far more about the chain-whip by hanging out with Tashia. The weapon isn¡¯t like her wire threads, which are much thinner and lighter, easier to control. She hasn¡¯t tried creating a chain-whip with her silk yet, but she imagines the chain-whip would be much more difficult to control because of its weight. There¡¯s a chance she¡¯d hit herself more than her enemy if she swung it around without any care, so until she copies Tashia¡¯s fighting style completely, she won¡¯t try copying the weapon. ¡°... Here! Tamera-style bug juice!¡± It¡¯s the middle of the day. The two of them are sitting atop the slanted roof of a dried fruit store in the fifth baraca street. They just killed a giant spider, so little Alice is looking around the city for their next prey as Tashia hums, squeezing blood from one of the giant spider legs they ripped from the carcass into two small cups. Alice hasn¡¯t really been paying attention to what¡¯s being added to the cups, but her cup smells strangely sweet and savoury as Tashia hands it over¡ªher lips twist as she accepts it with both hands. It¡¯s strange. Tashia has everything any child would want. Her father¡¯s a famed Tamera in the City of Feasts, and her family runs a well-known caravaneer¡¯s bazaar east of the city walls. She goes to a private academy for rich children late at night, past the evening and before the daylight hours. She meets up with little Alice every morning on the streets with beautiful long hair tied in a high tail, wearing more pretty coloured layers than Alice even knows exist, and yet, despite the obvious flaunting of wealth¡­ everybody on the fifth baraca street likes her. Why? Tashia may be skilled with her chain-whip, but not as skilled as little Alice with her four-weapon-arsenal. She can cook bug flesh and make decent lunches, but not better than little Alice who has spent two months working in old Safi¡¯s restaurant. She¡¯s shorter than little Alice, which makes her less reliable to stand behind when she¡¯s facing off against a giant bug, and her bloodlust doesn¡¯t terrify the giant bugs either. In every measure of being a ¡®bug-slayer¡¯ who protects the people, little Alice should be more popular than her. But perhaps¡­ it is that smile? Tashia smiles a lot. She makes eye contact with vagrants who beg her for alms. She doesn¡¯t flinch from the slum children who run up to her, asking to play Risha ball with her. Old men and ladies struggle to cross streets where caravan traffic is dense, and she helps them across by scattering silvers everywhere, making the drivers stop to pick up the coins. She gains nothing from helping them in matters outside of slaying giant bugs, so why does she look so happy every single day, whenever little Alice steals a glance at her? And why do the people look so happy being with her, too? Why do they call her pretty? Where¡¯s the gossiping? Where¡¯s the back-handed insults? Where¡¯s the hand-waving, where¡¯s the mean looks, where¡¯s the indignation of knowing a rich girl is just wandering around the streets of the poor, smiling like she knows what it means to starve? ¡­ The cup of Tamera-style bug juice tastes good as she brings it to her lips, too. ¡°How do you do it?¡± she mutters, almost as an afterthought, and she realises her blunder the moment she makes it; Tashia lights up next to her and grabs two of her four hands, squeezing them tightly. ¡°How do I do what?¡± Tashia asks, eyes twinkling with amusement. ¡°What is it? Is there something you want to learn from me? You know, I''m always stealing from you, so feel free to steal what you want from me as well! What do you want?¡± ¡°...¡± Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author. Everything. Little Alice wants everything from Tashia. But when they hear shouting from the north and race off to intercept a horde of desert locusts, Tashia falls in battle. There are forty giant locusts, too much for even a group of Tamera to handle. Little Alice drags the bloody Tashia behind a stack of crates in a dark alley an attempt to patch up her up, but even a blind man could see there was no stopping the blood gushing out of her neck; the young Tamera who would¡¯ve lived a rich and comfortable life dies in the shadow of the slums, her final words gurgled and incomprehensible. Tashia is still smiling, though. Why? ¡°¡­¡± It¡¯s strange. She barely knew Tashia, and it wasn¡¯t like they¡¯d spoken more than ten times the past two weeks they¡¯ve been together. Little Alice has seen many, many people die before, and Tashia is no different from the rest of them. Why is she so unwilling to go back out and clean up the rest of the desert locusts before they wreak more havoc on the fifth baraca street? So she kneels by Tashia¡¯s body for a long while, staring, staring, and staring¡ªuntil she takes up the young Tamera¡¯s final request and steals what she wants. She wants the Tamera¡¯s weapon. She wants the Tamera¡¯s fighting style. She wants Tashia¡¯s face, and she wants to be called pretty too. Little Alice steps out of the alley, and the horde of desert locusts charge her. She twists and twirls her silk of blood, weaving them into chain-whips, and with four weapons in four hands, she tears through the horde with ease. Tashia had a habit of moving with every swing so the weight of her weapon doesn¡¯t throw her off, so Alice copied that and integrated quick half-steps into her attacking motions. Tashia had a habit of smashing her chain-whip into the walls so they¡¯d make loud clanging noises to scare away the bugs, so Alice copied that and made her whips ricochet off each other in sparks of fire. Tashia had a habit of controlling the length of the chain-whip that she let fly out, but Alice had no such fear of hitting herself¡ªher chain-whips were ten metres long and flew out wild, unrestrained. The remaining desert locusts turn into pulp within five minutes, and she wouldn¡¯t have been able to do that if she only had five weapons in her arsenal. Now she has six. ¡°It¡¯s strange,¡± she thinks, as she jumps away from the fifth baraca street and the people living there eventually find Tashia¡¯s lifeless body in the alley. ¡°I didn¡¯t just copy her weapon and her fighting style.¡± ¡°I also¡­¡± ¡­ Somehow, she finds herself standing before the front door of the old man¡¯s restaurant in the middle of the night, far from the ever-tumultuous fifth baraca street. There are no patrons inside. There are no vagrants sleeping on the street around her. There is no wind chime for anyone inside the restaurant to know when someone is standing outside the door, but the old man opens the door anyway, looking quietly down at her. ¡°... I¡¯m here to work!¡± she chirps, pushing past him and entering the dark restaurant. The basins at the back are still lit by candle flame. There are still dishes for her to wash; she rolls up her dirty sleeves and sends the old man a bright smile, tying her hair up in a high tail. ¡°You should hire more people to work here, you know? What if I¡¯m tired and don¡¯t wanna work? You¡¯ll run out of clean plates if I¡¯m not¨C¡± ¡°Who are you?¡± ¡°...¡± She freezes, turns around, and looks up at him¡ªjaw clenching, lips quivering. ¡°I¡¯m¡­ I¡¯m Tashia!¡± she says, shooting him a cheery thumbs-up as she hops onto the little stool to help her reach the washing basin. ¡°I live on the sixth baraca street, but, really, my dad¡¯s no good! No good at all! He keeps trying to make me stay inside and study even though he¡¯s a famous Tamera, so what¡¯s wrong with me wanting to go out and get some life experience? So, I¡¯m thinking¡­ why don¡¯t I work here? This looks like a decent establishment! You don¡¯t even have to pay me anything! I¡¯ll just work and leave whenever there¡¯s no more work to be¨C¡± ¡°The dead daughter of that famous Tamera?¡± the old man muses, shaking his head as he heads up the stairs to his room. ¡°I hear she died this afternoon in some wild desert locust attack, trying to play the part of a bug-slayer. If you¡¯re here, though, then I suppose my information was wrong. Tashia still lives in¡­ you.¡± ¡°...¡± ¡°You start early tomorrow. Until you make up all the work for the two weeks you¡¯ve been missing, you¡¯re not getting any allowance.¡± With that, the old man retreats to his room on the second floor and leaves her standing before the dimly lit basin. She sees the reflection of Tashia¡¯s face in the still water below her, and, for some reason, it¡¯s¡­ it¡¯s strange. She doesn¡¯t know why she¡¯s crying now. Is it because she stole Tashia¡¯s face¡ªa mask woven from her bloody silk¡ªor is it because she¡¯s gotten stronger for doing so? ¡°...¡± Little Alice doesn¡¯t know. She knows nothing about herself. But as long as the chain-whip remains in her arsenal of weapons, Tashia is never dead. And if she doesn¡¯t know who she is¡­ she¡¯ll just steal the names and faces of everyone interesting she meets, and she¡¯ll make sure they¡¯re never forgotten. Why have only one personality when she can have a hundred? - Scene from ¡®The Hangman¡¯s Mimic¡¯ past Chapter 54 - Gone like the Wind Come the night of the day Madamaron burned in hellfire, the Sharaji Oasis Town was swept up by a mood of festivities like never before. The dinner feast stretched around the banks of the giant oasis, and dozens of low tables were laden with platters of spiced meat, dates, and honey-soaked pastries. Firefly lanterns, fashioned from metal and coloured glass, were strung between palm trees to cast a flickering orange glow over the town. The warmth of the fireflies and the heated spices combined were almost as thick as the townsfolk¡¯s chatter¡ªwomen in bright, flowing layers danced in circles, hands tracing graceful patterns in the air. Groups of men sat on cushions and carpets, passing hookahs between each other as they recounted the death of the desert god. There were musicians somewhere between all of them, too, plucking the strings of ouds¡­ though Dahlia couldn¡¯t quite pick out where they were. There were a lot of people. All one thousand or so Sharaji townsfolk were out in the open tonight. Even if the children weren¡¯t playing Rish ball and darting between the adults, their shrieks of joy ringing out everywhere, anyone would be hard-pressed to find any specific person with all the servers spinning and serving more and more food along the tables. Dahlia felt she¡¯d picked a relatively good seat¡ªon top of a roof near the eastern bank of the oasis, overlooking the rest of the feast from above¡ªbut even then she couldn¡¯t see where Alice was. The Arcana Hasharana was the first to be kidnapped by the townsfolk the moment they returned from the undertown ruin, and since then, Dahlia hadn¡¯t even caught a glimpse of her around the town. Most likely, she was being paraded around the feast and hailed as the desert¡¯s saviour¡ªand, most assuredly, she did deserve the praise and the attention. All things considered, Alice had killed Madamaron solo. Dahlia had been there mostly just as bait. ¡­ ¡®God-slayers¡¯, huh? she thought, swirling the cup of raisin juice in her hands as she smiled softly; the sight of the Sharaji chief¡¯s daughter playing Risha ball with other kids by the northern bank warmed her heart. And you said all Hasharana are capable of killing at least one Mutant by themselves? [Correct,] Eria answered curtly. [Of course, there are different grades of Mutants that determine how difficult they are to kill, but all Hasharana with properly registered Altered Swarmsteel Systems have killed at least one Mutant before. It is a mandatory component of the Hasharana Entrance Exam.] How tough was that Mutant antlion nymph Alice killed, then? [Hm. There are seven ranks of Mutants, Lesser Great Mutants, and Great Mutants, with F-rank being the weakest and S-rank being the strongest,] Eria said. [If I must rank that antlion nymph, I would put it at D-rank. Very middle of the road. In comparison, the firefly back in Alshifa would be around E-rank, maybe even low D-rank¡­ but please note that we, the Archives of the Altered Swarmsteel System, are not usually the ones who assign these rankings. There is an Arcana Hasharana who personally assigns every known Mutant and Lesser Great Mutant their rank.] Dahlia couldn¡¯t help but frown a little. The antlion nymph was certainly strong¡ªand massive to boot¡ªbut was it really stronger than the firefly who could shoot lightning and bring down an entire undertown by itself? [The ranks are not always determined by sheer destructive power alone. In terms of offence, the firefly may be on par or even above the antlion nymph, but it is hardly as elusive. I need not remind you that Madamaron had been preying on this town for a decade without anyone being able to figure out what it was. Sometimes, the strongest bugs are not the ones who show up once and die in battle¡ªall Lesser Great Mutants are smart enough to know when some battles cannot be won, and will run away to continue being a thorn in humanity¡¯s side for the next few decades.] ¡­ Like a roach. Eria nodded firmly. [Like a roach. In any case, that antlion nymph is finally taken care of, which means that Hasharana should soon be¨C] ¡°Recalled and sent on another mission, yep,¡± Alice finished, popping up behind Dahlia without so much as a warning from her dagger antennae; Dahlia let out a not-so-dignified yelp as she nearly jolted out of her seat. Alice laughed and sat down on the opposite end of the table, and a moment later, the shadow of an old man swung by to serve them a plate of braised meat¡ªDahlia only knew it was Safi because of how fast he arrived and left, gone like the wind itself. The braised meat was also probably insect flesh, or whatever was left inside his kitchen after using most of his stock as bait for Madamaron. ¡°... I¡¯ve already received my next mission from Hierophant,¡± Alice said in between feral, messy bites of her meat, holding it with her bare hands. ¡°The next Hasharana Entrance Exam¡¯s in a month and two weeks, but there¡¯s been reports of three of the Seven Spider Brood hanging around the exam venue. I¡¯m to meet up with the Sun and the Fool to take care of them since there¡¯s no other Arcana Hasharana around this part of the continent right now¡­ so yeah. That¡¯s that.¡± Dahlia gulped, eyeing the slab of meat in front of her nervously. ¡°And¡­ you¡¯re leaving when?¡± Alice shrugged nonchalantly. ¡°Eh. After this meal, I guess?¡± she said, thumbing behind her as she did. ¡°Uncle¡¯s already getting his tavern ready, so it¡¯s only appropriate that we leave the same way we arrived¡ªin the dead of night while the town is asleep, only for everyone to wake up the next morning realising someone¡¯s here-slash-missing. Hah. You should¡¯ve seen the looks on everyone¡¯s faces when we first showed up with uncle¡¯s tavern already established under a dune. They were like ¡®whoa, how¡¯d they build an entire tavern in a single night¨C¡¯¡± If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. ¡°Are you sure you can afford to leave?¡± Alice¡¯s eyes darkened with an odd mix of amusement and suspicion, and it was strange looking at the Hasharana as ever¡ªto this day, Dahlia had yet to see Alice¡¯s real face, so it really was quite unsettling to see a perfect mirror of her own face smirking back at her. ¡°What makes you say that?¡± Alice asked, a playful lilt to her voice. ¡°Didn¡¯t you think that antlion nymph was too easy for you?¡± Dahlia replied without missing a beat, staring hard into Alice¡¯s eyes. ¡°Sure, it was big and strong and it had a lot of dangerous attacks, but¡­ lacking. Underwhelming. For a Mutant that¡¯d been terrorising this town for a decade, even if it only killed three or four people a year and mostly kept to a diet of other bugs¨C¡± ¡°You think the ¡®real¡¯ Madamaron is still somewhere out there.¡± Dahlia nodded slowly, uncertainly. ¡°I¡¯m¡­ I¡¯m not a hundred percent sure about it, but it¡¯s just¡­ my gut instinct?¡± She fidgeted with her fingers beneath the table, gulping again. ¡°The Mutant firefly was¡­ it felt a lot tougher. Like it¡¯d really, really given its all to fight back when we pushed it against the wall. Compared to that, it felt like the Mutant antlion nymph just gave up towards the end.¡± ¡°Well, isn¡¯t that just because I hit it so hard it couldn¡¯t even think straight?¡± Alice shot her a grin, flicking her on the forehead. ¡°I¡¯m an Arcana Hasharana. I¡¯ve slaughtered dozens of Mutants with hundreds of different weapons. I dare say I could even take on a low-rank Lesser Great Mutant by myself, so I¡¯m sure Madamaron just felt the difference in power and didn¡¯t put in as much effort as it could¡¯ve.¡± ¡°But you¡­ didn¡¯t you think it was suspicious, too?¡± Dahlia said, tilting her head in befuddlement. ¡°You, too, when we were watching that antlion nymph burn¡­ you weren¡¯t smiling as usual. You always smile when you¡¯re looking at dead bugs. You don¡¯t actually believe Madamaron¡¯s dead, right¨C¡± Alice flicked a wad of silk at her lips, sealing her voice, and while she scowled and tried to pry the sticky silk off¡ªthe Arcana Hasharana finished her plate of insect flesh as well, ripping through the entire slab of meat in well under ten seconds. Dahlia stared at Alice pointedly, and Alice wiped her lips with a smug, satisfied grin. ¡°... There¡¯s a Lesser Great Mutant close by, and the Worm God has requested my attendance,¡± she said wryly, matching Dahlia¡¯s head tilt. ¡°Madamaron is dead. The Sharaji Oasis Town¡¯s wicked desert god has been slain. My job here as a Hasharana is over, but there is one last thing I have to deal with before I go.¡± Then, Alice extended a hand and opened her palm, as though expecting something from Dahlia. ¡°I did say you can keep your Altered Swarmsteel System until either Madamaron is killed or I¡¯ve learned everything I want to know about you,¡± she said plainly. ¡°Now, one of those two things have come true, and I really, really have to leave this town soon¡ªthe Fool¡¯s gonna yell at me if I¡¯m late to a meeting between Arcana Hasharana again. May I have the worm back, please?¡± In response, Dahlia narrowed her eyes and sharpened her claws beneath the table. She¡¯d made up her mind a while ago, though she couldn¡¯t pinpoint the exact time and date; she didn¡¯t want to let go of Eria. ¡°And if I say¡­ no?¡± Alice looked at her for a long time, eyes dark red and grim. ¡°... Then nothing,¡± the Hashara replied, her smile not carrying the meaning behind it as she shrugged. ¡°As I said, I don¡¯t really care about ¡®unregistered systems¡¯ or whatever the Worm God¡¯s so worried about. You¡¯re the only one in danger by possessing an unregistered Altered Swarmsteel System, not me, so here¡¯s my advice since you¡¯ve been so useful to me the past month: don¡¯t ever leave this town.¡± Dahlia blinked. ¡°Why not?¡± ¡°Because this town is in the middle of nowhere, and here, you¡¯re about as far away as you can get from any other Hasharana,¡± Alice said, raising a finger. ¡°As long as you aren¡¯t near another Hasharana, they won¡¯t get a message telling them to investigate a nearby unregistered system. Thus, if the Hasharana never find you, you can live out the rest of your life in peace; just remember to have someone bury the worm in some pit when you die. You don¡¯t want a random person to inherit your system and be hunted down by the Hasharana, right?¡± ¡°R-right. But I thought you¡¯d say something like¡­ like maybe I should leave this town with you and help you out¡­ or something¨C¡± Alice waved a dismissive hand as she stood up, stretching her back with a heavy groan. ¡°Nah. You¡¯ve got real talent as a Swarmsteel Maker, I¡¯ll give you that, and I am still interested in your insect class, but you don¡¯t have what it takes to follow me. You¡¯ll die if you fight the Mutants I fight, you know?¡± ¡°...¡± ¡°Help the people here. Use your expertise to bolster the defences of the Sharaji Oasis Town. Not every talent needs to go out into the world and join the war against the Swarm¡ªdidn¡¯t all of you undertowners fight your way up to the surface in search of a new, peaceful home? ¡°In Sharaji Tongue, isn¡¯t this town the ¡®Kari¡¯ you¡¯ve been looking for?¡± ¡°...¡± And then Alice winked, dashing back with a puff of sand, a swirl of wind¡ªthe Arcana Hasharana disappeared in the blink of an eye, never to be seen again. There wasn¡¯t a farewell. Dahlia was sure, even if she dropped everything and sprinted as fast as she could to the eastern edge of the town, that Safi¡¯s tavern wouldn¡¯t be there. It would appear as though that cosy, breathing tavern built under a dune had never been there in the first place, and¡­ she was quite sure, if she didn¡¯t still have Eria with her, that she¡¯d eventually question whether she even met any ¡®Hasharana¡¯ at all. But to think, from the very beginning to the very end, Dahlia still knew nothing about the girl who¡¯d come and gone like the wind¡­ ¡­ ¡­ She bit her tongue and looked down at the empty table in front of her, not feeling even a single ounce of satisfaction at how it¡¯d all ended. She couldn¡¯t get rid of that writhing, churning sensation of danger in her stomach, and watching the townsfolk celebrate beneath her was like waiting for the dangling dagger to drop. Chapter 55 - Peace and Tranquillity Eleven days. One week since Madamaron was slain and the Hasharana left in the dead of night, taking the entire tavern with her. There¡¯d been no deaths since then. Dahlia¡¯s second month and second week in the Sharaji Oasis Town began as usual with the ring of the morning bell. Camels bleated outside, the elders threw the window flaps open, the shopkeepers and stall owners trudged out their sandstone houses to set up their wares by the bazaar, yawning and greeting each other with their hands interlocked in prayers. The quiet hubbub would soon grow into the familiar hustle and bustle, but Dahlia had been given a room right next to the chief¡¯s house, which meant she didn¡¯t really need the bell or the sounds of the bazaar to wake up¡ªthe chief¡¯s daughter pounded on her front door as usual to eat breakfast together, so she rolled off her bed, rubbing her eyes groggily as she did. [You¡¯ve never been a light sleeper, huh?] Issam muttered. [People on the surface sure wake up early. The sun¡¯s like a natural alarm for them.] There¡¯s nothing I can do about it. Being curt with her appearance¡ªonly washing her short curly hair and dousing her face with cold water by the windowsill¡ªshe quickly threw on her mantle and opened the door to let the girl in. Breakfast was as usual: a plate of pita bread with fava beans, a dipping of olive oil, and a side of aromatic vegetables. It was way more food than she was used to, but when the chief stepped in a moment later and bowed, she figured she couldn¡¯t let the food go to waste. She cleaned her plate slowly as the chief chatted about all things related to the town, mentioning how they were planning on reestablishing trade routes with nearby oasis towns now that Madamaron was no longer a threat. Dahlia was only half-listening as she ate, and her mind, as usual, was somewhere off in the gutters. The breakfast wasn¡¯t as good as Safi¡¯s beetle meat sandwiches. [You can¡¯t just not eat the breakfast they¡¯re serving to you for free,] Amula grumbled, sighing behind her ear as she forced herself to stuff down the last pita bread. [They gave you a good house on the edge of town, too. It¡¯s quiet. It¡¯s relatively cool. There¡¯s even a backyard for you to plant a few cacti if you want¡ªI think the chief¡¯s actually expecting you to do something with it.] I don¡¯t know what I can do with it. After breakfast, she quickly excused herself and raced out for work. There was no longer a need for her to work multiple jobs, really¡ªSmith Jaleel had offered her a full-time apprenticeship at the forge¡ªbut she wanted to stay physically active, and there was no better job for that than pulling reeds from the oasis under the scorching sun. By the time she got to the oasis farmers¡¯ storage house, Mushariff Idan was already waiting for her with eight extra large buckets; he grinned at her to make him some profit, and she smiled softly back, getting her morning stretches in as she walked out to the oasis. [Pulling reeds, pulling reeds, pulling reeds,] Raya muttered, sounding sorely disappointed as she kicked off her sandals and waded into the water, greeting the other farmers a good morning. [Of all the physical activities you could be doing, you¡¯re pulling reeds? Seriously? Go ride out on a camel and hunt a bug or something. This shit¡¯s boring¨C] [Just let her be,] Ayla said. [Pulling reeds means contributing to the town¡¯s food resources. Without systems, nobody in the town can eat insect flesh without risking uncontrolled mutation,] Aylee said. [Then just hog it all for yourself,] Raya mumbled. [Seriously, though. Reeds? I¡¯m losing my mind watching you¨C] A smack. The twin sisters smacked Raya on the back of the head, telling him to shut up. The townsfolk like it when I help them harvest reeds. I do it faster than anyone else, so it¡¯s something only I can do. [... It¡¯s for your ¡®Kari¡¯, right?] Amula said, a slight jubilance to her voice. [If it¡¯s for your home, then there¡¯s nothing wrong with wanting to contribute in simple ways like pulling reeds. Just ignore Raya.] The three of them squabbled behind her as the morning hours ticked by, and then it was noon. She filled up her eight buckets and waded out of the oasis to turn them in, and along with her usual pay, Idan asked if she wanted to have lunch with the rest of them. The platters the waitresses from the communal kitchens brought into the storage house certainly smelled delicious: they were plates of hollowed vegetables stuffed with rice, ground meat, and spices. There were even grilled kebabs for her to choose from, so she went for a few skewers before racing off, apologising for not being able to eat with them. A part of it was because she wanted to eat on the way to the forge, but another part of it was because if she stayed to eat with them, they¡¯d definitely make her try out the hollowed vegetables as well¡ªand those just weren¡¯t as good as Safi¡¯s locust meat stews. ¡­ My ¡®Kari¡¯, huh? Passing through the busy streets, she squeezed into the forge and was immediately blasted with a wave of heat. Smith Jaleel was already handling the anvil on the left, accepting a line of requests so long the people wound twice around the building, but the anvil on the right was empty; it was hers to handle, and there was already a separate line of requests so long the people wound thrice around the building, even spilling out into the narrow back alleys. Smith Jaleel chastised her, telling her to quit the farming job so she could work here in the morning as well, but she deflected his offer as usual as she strung on her blacksmith¡¯s apron. It was a woven prototype made by the chief¡¯s late husband, and it was some sort of beetle elytra fabric¡ªextremely breathable, extremely heat resistant, and also super light on her body. It wasn¡¯t the prettiest, but nobody who queued up for her anvil was looking at her, anyways. If there was one thing that¡¯d changed in the Oasis Town apart from the death of Madamaron, it was that the townsfolk were beginning to accept, once again, the value of Swarmsteel in their daily lives. The adaptable locust leg prosthetic she¡¯d made for the chief¡¯s daughter had attracted many curious eyes, and now everyone wanted a little something to spruce themselves up with. As it turned out, most households actually had a few spare insect parts lying around gathering dust, so people came to her in broken Alshifa Tongue asking for very specific things to be made; she took each and every last one of their requests to heart, occasionally asking Smith Jaleel to translate just to be sure she knew what they wanted made. Filling up her request checklist and clearing out the line was the first thing she did, and only once people stopped rushing in to make a request did she hang the checklist on a hook, scanning the items over to decide what she should start her afternoon with. Locust tibia broom with natural dust-repelling effect¡­ a hornet stinger needle threader that can temporarily harden the threads it touches¡­ mantis claw tongs that can turn into scissors with the pull of a lever¡­ If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. Nodding absentmindedly, she reached into the crate of insect parts¡ªeverything donated by the townsfolk who had those lying around¡ªand began tossing most of the bigger pieces into the fire behind her. The larger items required more time to heat up, so while she waited for them to glow bright orange, she picked out a few of the smaller pieces to start hand-moulding them into what the townsfolk requested: a sand scorpion hammer that could inject venom into the material it was hitting to weaken its integrity, a fan made of cicada wings that had a natural sand-repelling effect, and a canteen made from a hollowed-out wasp abdomen with a natural purification effect. [These ones you don¡¯t even need to heat, huh?] Amula said, humming as she worked the raw insect parts on the anvil with her bare hands; she had more than enough strength to knead the softer parts like bread dough, as well as the dexterity to not break them in the process. [They¡¯re all boring gadgets,] Raya grumbled. [Make something cool. Did anyone ask you to make them a sword or something? Work on that first, and then come back to¨C] [Those ones need more work, so she has to heat the parts in the fire and soften them up first,] Ayla scolded. [Let her do her thing. She¡¯s the Make-Whatever here, not you.] [Just saying. I¡¯m gonna fall asleep watching her¨C] More whacks resounded behind her as she clenched her jaw, focusing on making each and every Swarmsteel as perfect as she could make them. It didn¡¯t matter how ¡®boring¡¯ some of them were. To the people that¡¯d come by and pick them up later, they¡¯d be Swarmsteel made just for that one person, and there could be no better Swarmsteel than that. She¡¯d be sure to tell them how to use their Swarmsteel as well, just to keep them from coming back in a few days asking for repairs¡ªshe was already busy enough as was. [Fire,] Eria reminded her. [The larger plates are ready for you.] Just in time. She finished the last of her smaller Swarmsteels and immediately tossed those aside to a workbench, whirling around to yank the glowing-hot insect plates out of the furnace. She still winced a little whenever she grabbed the glowing components with her bare hands, but maybe it was a small trait of the assassin bug class, not even worthy of mentioning on her status screen¡ªit was like the nerves in her palms were almost completely immune to the sensation of heat now. Farming under the sun burned her more than the superheated components, so, with great speed, she began moulding them while stealing glances at her checklist. Giant locust broom¡­ extremely tough scarab chitin-coated pickaxe¡­ fog-bask beetle sand sifter to filter out more impurities in well water¡­ To Raya¡¯s disappointment, none of them were weapons or apparel people could meld with, but¡­ she was more than okay with that. Making daily life amenities was soothing. It was calming. The afternoon hours passed by with the sound of Smith Jaleel hammering his own projects to the side, and while she was certainly sweaty and exhausted by twilight, it wasn¡¯t nerve-wracking making Swarmsteel she knew wasn¡¯t going to hurt anyone. The townsfolk were her neighbours, and this was her home, her ¡®kari¡¯; she didn¡¯t want to accidentally hurt anyone with her Swarmsteel like she had with her first prosthetic for the chief¡¯s daughter. She was fine with pain herself, but the townsfolk weren¡¯t queuing up before her anvil for it. ¡®... Isn¡¯t this the peace you¡¯ve been looking for?¡¯ Alice¡¯s words lingered in her head as she finished her work for the afternoon, sitting back against the furnace on a stool as Smith Jaleel tossed her a canteen. They were both done with their requests for yesterday, so come early next morning, all her completed Swarmsteel sitting in a crate to her right would be shipped out by the local couriers. After all, she was just the Maker, not the deliverer. She couldn¡¯t even remember the faces of the people who¡¯d requested her items; they were all just names on a checklist, and she remembered their Swarmsteel more than the person themselves. So when Smith Jaleel asked if she wanted to go out and have dinner with the rest of the townsfolk before coming back to resume their work for the evening, she declined politely, saying she¡¯d watch the forge to make sure none of the kids could wander in and mess up their arrangements. ¡°You¡¯re a kid, too,¡± was what Smith Jaleel said as he ducked out of the forge, leaving her alone in the forge with a warm, crackling fire behind her. ¡­ And as she sat against the furnace, staring at the crate of spare insect parts she wasn¡¯t even close to emptying over the next few weeks, she felt the same empty pit writhing inside her. What was she even so moody about this time? Madamaron was slain, the whimsical Hasharana was gone, the townsfolk had more or less accepted her into their fold. She even had a stable job, a stable income, and a stable house to live in; wasn¡¯t this the ¡®peace¡¯ on the surface she¡¯d promised to enjoy with the people of Alshifa? [... It¡¯s because you¡¯re bored,] Issam said, and her ears perked slightly as he said that. Of all the voices in her head, he was the last one she expected to just say it outright. [That rush of energy, and that exhilaration you¡¯d felt when you made that adaptable Swarmsteel prosthetic for the girl¡­ you realised there was still so much room for you to grow stronger and become an even better Make-Whatever, so now you can¡¯t go back.] [Making tame and safe Swarmsteel for the townsfolk is good and all, but¡­ if you don¡¯t even remember the names of the people you¡¯re making them for, can you really even say you¡¯re making Swarmsteel for them, and them only?] The weight on her shoulders became even heavier, and she swallowed hard, looking down at her black chitin hands. They were sharp as all hell. They could cut way, way tougher insect parts than what the townsfolk were giving her. [But this is your new home, right?] Raya whispered. [You wanted to stay out of the war against the Swarm, right?] Amula breathed. [You wanted peace and tranquillity, right?] Aylee said, and Ayla finished, [Well, this is it.] [This is peace.] ¡­ She was just about to open her mouth and speak when the forge rumbled, making hammers and chisels fall off their hooks on the walls. Crates tipped over, spilling raw insect parts everywhere. The fire behind her belched and flared for a brief moment before dimming, and she shot to her feet with a sinking feeling in her gut. Eria! What¨C [Evacuate the forge!] She didn¡¯t need telling twice, dashing out just as the firefly lantern in the forge fell off its hook, shattering against the floor and letting the captive firefly go free¡­ and it wasn¡¯t just the forge that was rumbling. Jumping onto the roof of a neighbouring building, she scowled at the sight of the entire Oasis Town reverberating under the quakes¡ªsandstone buildings swaying precariously, the oasis itself rippling violently, waves sloshing against the banks. It¡¯d been clear skies just moments ago as well, but now a sandstorm was churning out of nowhere, visibility plummeting as swirls of sand whipped through the town. It was dark. Moonlight could barely pierce through the storm. Dahlia had to pull her scarf up just to breathe properly, but without goggles, the only thing she could see were the faint outlines of the town and the few orange torches and braziers that¡¯d yet to be blown out. This¡­ this is¡­ Confusion erupted in the streets. Doors flew open as people raced from their houses, shouts filling the air, disoriented by the quaking ground and the blinding storm. Dahlia¡¯s heart pounded in her ears, drowning out the shouts and cries as she felt she remembered this exact quake before¨C And then the oasis far in front of her exploded upwards in a spray of water and debris. The sound was deafening, but the monstrous silhouette that emerged from it, flying high into the air above the town, silenced every panicking voice in an instant. Dahlia herself stayed perched on her roof, eyes wide with disbelief as she studied the dark, blurry silhouette of the giant insect. The sandstorm wrapped around it, concealing its form in a shifting veil of grit and shadow, but she could vaguely tell: it was eight metres tall, its four wings were glassy and translucent, and it had sleek, angular limbs, unlike the bulky and clumsy-looking Mutant antlion nymph she¡¯d fought back in the undertown ruin. It was humanlike, but not human; its four arms and two legs hovering far above the town didn¡¯t fool her for a second. If nothing else, its glowing, beady red eyes that glared down at all of them like twin suns in the darkness told her it was the desert¡¯s true evil god¡ªa Mutant antlion, full-grown, wings flapping so fast it made a sandstorm swirl around it. That Mutant she¡¯d fought in the undertown ruin was just an antlion nymph. And Madamaron, the Destroyer, had come to avenge its child. Chapter 56 - Evil God ¡­ The sandstorm wrapped around it, concealing its form in a shifting veil of grit and shadow, but Dahlia could vaguely tell: it was ten metres tall, its wings were glassy and translucent, and it had sleek, angular limbs, unlike the bulky and clumsy-looking Mutant antlion nymph she¡¯d fought back in the undertown ruin. It was humanlike, but not human; its four arms and two legs hovering far above the town didn¡¯t fool her for a second. It was Madamaron, the Destroyer, and it was an evil god that¡¯d come with its horrid spawn. Ten, twenty, thirty Mutant antlion nymphs burst from the ground, sand geysers erupting across the town, and they each brought with them a yawning sandpit large enough to swallow an entire building whole. Then, there was panic. People ran in every direction, faces twisted in terror, their cries drowned out by the howling wind and the low, continuous growl of the quakes. If they ducked inside their houses, a Mutant would drag them down into the desert. If they decided to go anywhere else, more three-metre-tall Mutants wandering the streets would snatch them up by the waist and do the exact same thing, leering and growling at them the entire time. None of the Mutants were killing anyone outright, nor was Madamaron doing anything other than hovering above the town as the eye of the sandstorm, but the Sharaji Oasis Town turned into a nightmarish landscape in an instant. ¡­ Dahlia leaped off the roof of the forge, her heart pounding in her chest, trying to keep her footing as the desert bucked and rolled. The sandstorm clawed at her cloak and chipped at her chitin, but she forced herself to move forward, because there¡ªa dozen metres down the street¡ªwas a sinkhole opening right in front of her, the edges crumbling into nothingness. A little boy was sliding down the hole, his small hands reaching for anything to hold onto. She lunged forward with all the strength she had, her locust greaves making her explode off the ground, and for a brief second her claws brushed his fingers¡ªthen the sinkhole gave way with a sickening lurch and he slipped through her grasp. His scream was lost in the storm as he tumbled into darkness. She slid to a halt at the edge, her breaths heavy, her hand still reached out into the air where he¡¯d been. The pit below was beyond deep, and the shifting sands already covered the hole the boy disappeared through. ¡­ Movement to her left caught her attention. She spotted the town chief and her daughter running away from a Mutant strutting towards them¡ªall of the nymphs in this town were much smaller compared to the one she and Alice had killed back in the undertown ruin, but they were still Mutants at the end of the day. To her surprise, she hardly hesitated; she dashed forward, grabbed the two girls by their wrists, and dragged them through an alley as the Mutant pounced on them. She didn¡¯t try fighting. She could barely see through the storm as was, so she kept running, running, and running, as the fate the little boy had met befell over a third of the townsfolk as well. None were spared. Men, women, children¡ªif the sandpits didn¡¯t get them, a Mutant did, and every eye was wide with the realisation that there was no escape. ¡­ Having run a full circle around the back of the forge to throw the pursuing Mutant off, Dahlia burst out of the back alley and looked up at the blurry Madamaron. Its glassy wings beat so fast she could barely see them, but the gusts of wind and sand swirling through the air was very much real. Its burning red eyes locked onto her golden ones, and Madamaron¡¯s glowed with a malevolent glee that made her shudder to her core. Then, it crossed its four arms and jerked its head back, letting out a high-pitched, ear-splitting screech; it was the sound of cruel, mocking laughter, and every Mutant around the town reciprocated with their mandibles snapping open and shut. With a final, contemptuous glare, Madamaron dove back into the oasis it¡¯d burst through, and the rest of its brood burrowed back into the desert with four kicking townsfolk in each hand. Dahlia and everyone else standing at the edge of the oasis were blown off their feet by the cyclone that came from their retreat, and she landed painfully on her back; the winds ripping her scarf off and filling her with a mouthful of sand. But. Slowly, surely, the winds began to die down. The sandstorm howled for a few more minutes, and it faded just as cruelly as the quaking ceased¡­ but the destruction remained. A hundred sandpits gaped across the town like open wounds in the earth. Dozens of sandstone buildings lay in ruins, walls crumbled into piles of rubble, and even more were half-sunken in sinkholes, immobile in the sand. The night returned to its quiet, oppressive darkness, and after another minute or two¡ªthe sky was clear again. Stars shone coldly down on the broken Oasis Town, and the silence that followed was deafening. [... It must have been waiting for Alice to leave.] [It must have known and sensed she was an Arcana Hasharana it could not beat, even with so many Mutants at its beck and call, so it sent out its strongest child as a sacrifice. It wanted her to believe it was dead.] [Now that it knows she is no longer here¡ªand that it is unlikely a Hasharana will return to check on this town in the middle of nowhere anytime soon¡ªit no longer has anything to fear.] [It retreated only because it would much rather leave some of you alive for it to continue preying on for years down the line, decades down the line, one meal at a time¨C] ¡°Mama!¡± Children cried into the night, small voices trembling as they called out for their parents. Faces were streaked with sand and tears rushed all around looking for their loved ones. Nearby, people were huddled together, trying desperately to treat their wounds with whatever they could find. Others were digging frantically through the rubble and the sands, trying to pull their friends and family from beneath the collapsed buildings. Once-vibrant cloaks and mantles were dyed in monotonous shades of blood. Faces were set in grim despair. Those who lost nobody and those who lost everyone were kneeling by the edge of the sunken oasis, hands clasped together as they chanted, prayed, and pleaded for mercy from their wicked desert god. It truly, truly seemed as though there was nowhere she could turn to where there wasn¡¯t anyone crying, and, for Dahlia¡¯s part¡­ she spat sand out of her mouth and rose to her knees, glancing behind her to see the town chief praying as well. ¡­ Her chest suddenly felt tight as a dozen emotions exploded inside her. It was like the taut string of the dangling dagger over her head finally snapped, and before she knew it, she slapped the town chief across the face with a harsh growl. The town chief toppled over backwards, her daughter gasping and rushing to her aid, but Dahlia grinded her teeth and felt a warm tear down her own cheek. ¡­ The people of Alshifa never prayed and begged for mercy from the firefly. They all went down swinging and screaming their curses at the Swarm. The other townsfolk heard her slap. They turned and looked, eyes wide with shock, but turned away just as quickly to continue their frantic praying as she glared at them¡ªthey were more scared of their ¡®god¡¯ than they were of her, a living, breathing human with four black armoured arms who could cleave through them right here and now. That, perhaps, was the one thing that made her more angry than anything else. You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author. [... I must remind you, once again, that humans of this era are still like bugs under a boot,] Eria said plainly. [Though the borders of the continent are largely defended by the Seven Swarmsteel Fronts, small infestations such as the Mutant antlions still pop up in the hundreds across the continent every single day. There are not enough Hasharana to deal with them, and the result is as such¡ªthe chances of a small desert town repelling a Swarm invasion like this is less than five percent.] [This is the surface world.] [Three billion insects and counting just at the borders of the continent. Billions more out on the Crawling Seas, stretching out towards the Dead Continents. We know only of the Seven Great Mutants, but there are rumours of hundreds more beyond this continent that even the Hasharana cannot confirm. If humanity wishes to retake firm control of this continent, every man, woman, and child must be able to defeat at least one Mutant on their own, but the fact of the matter is, there are simply not enough systems for everyone to grow stronger the way you can.] [Swarmsteel may be able to bridge that gap and put a weapon in everyone¡¯s hands, but¨C] This isn¡¯t the peace I was looking for, right? ¡­ She felt she heard Raya and Jerie musing behind her. What part of this is ¡®tranquill¡¯? She felt she heard Ayla and Aylee whispering behind her. The home I¡¯m searching for isn¡¯t here. She felt she heard Amula snorting behind her, and she balled her hands into fists, claws digging into her own palms. Tell me, Eria. Does the ¡®home¡¯ I¡¯m searching for exist anywhere in this world? [...] And when Eria didn¡¯t answer, she let out a heavy, shuddering breath¡ªclosing her eyes as she did. ¡­ I¡¯ll have to make one for myself, then. She stopped letting the chaos drown her. She opened her eyes, shook herself free from the weight on her shoulders, and clawed to her feet with a great surge of strength flowing through her veins. Sniffling, wiping tears off her eyes, she stormed back towards the forge and ignored the chief as she passed by. Her legs felt like mush¡ªshe could see Madamaron¡¯s burning red eyes in her head all too well, and she felt like crumbling and giving up, but she pushed anyways. She threw every ounce of strength into her legs and staggered into the forge, taking one step towards the crate of insect parts. Just one step. Then another. And another. By the time the chief, her daughter, and Smith Jaleel rushed inside to check on her, she¡¯d already cleaved the entire crate open to let the insect parts spill onto the ground. [... Madamaron and its brood must not have eaten any of the kidnapped townsfolk yet,] Eria said, as she whirled and scanned the parts for anything she could use; she kicked up a bunch of locust plates and decided to start with them. [That invasion was but a mere declaration of power. It wanted to intimidate all of you. It wanted to remind you it is the true lord of the desert, so I estimate it will not be until midnight that the first of them actually begin to starve. If you can find the antlions¡¯ hideout before then, you may be able to rescue most of the kidnapped townsfolk.] How long until midnight? [Five hours and sixteen minutes.] That¡¯s enough time. I can¨C ¡°What are you doing, Dahlia?¡± the chief muttered, looking half-dazed as she gripped Dahlia¡¯s wrist, stopping her from tossing the first plate into the fire behind her. ¡°Leave¡­ these things alone. Stop playing around with them. They¡¯re torn from the carcasses of evil gods, and they breathe curses we cannot see. Cast all of them into the sand and we may yet survive the coming attacks¨C¡± ¡°It¡¯s a fucking bug, and that¡¯s all it is!¡± Dahlia¡¯s eyes twitched as she jerked her hand away, scowling fiercely at the chief. Her lips were quivering. She knew she looked like a child with tears streaming down her face, and for a brief moment she thought about snapping at the chief again¡ªlashing out with another slap¡ªbut she managed to restrain herself at the last second. It¡¯d be wrong of her to get angry at any of the Sharaji townsfolk. They¡¯d lived decades on the surface, enduring Swarm invasion after invasion, and they¡¯d never even stood a chance at fighting back. But she was from Alshifa, born and raised, and though she may have been an utter failure of a bug-slayer¡ªwhen had she let go of the resolve she¡¯d used to unmake the Mutant firefly? She¡¯d decided not to die, didn¡¯t she? She¡¯d promised everyone she¡¯d make her own destiny, didn¡¯t she? ¡°¡­ I¡¯m no Hasharana,¡± she whispered, her voice quivering as she struggled to hold her locust plates still in the fire, back turned against the chief. ¡°I¡¯m¡­ weak. Slow. You think I- I don¡¯t know how much I don¡¯t fit in with the rest of you? My people are dead, the Hasharana want me dead, and I can¡¯t ever get rid of my extra arms¡ªyou don¡¯t think I know I¡¯m stuck here and nowhere at the same time? That I don¡¯t really, really belong here? I don¡¯t even know how to speak your tongue. Incomprehensible. An- And I never even bothered trying to learn even though I¡¯ve been here for so long. What a lazy, unmotivated girl, huh?¡± ¡°...¡± ¡°I know, okay? I¡¯m lucky. I survived the Mutant firefly even though I did the least out of all of us. The rest of them, the- they actually gave their lives for Alshifa. Raya fought it for three whole minutes. Godsent talent. Issam and Amula and Jerie and Ayla and Aylee and the rest of them drew out its stamina, pushed it into a corner, and set everything up for me to- to take and steal the glory from them. Thief. If it were anyone else¡­ if it were anyone else, they¡¯d already be much stronger than me at this point. You think I don¡¯t know that?¡± ¡°...¡± ¡°They died for me. All of them did. Three hundred and seventeen people threw themselves into lightning for me, and I repaid them by¡­ what? Relaxing on the surface? Picking reeds and making living room mugs? You know, they¡¯ll probably tell me to settle down here. Probably. After all, I¡¯m too we- weak to do anything else. You think I don¡¯t know that? They¡¯d tell me to stop playing along with that damn¡­ blasted, stupid Hasharana. They¡¯d tell me to sit down and enjoy what I have, because this is what they died for. This is the home they died for me to have. ¡°Even still, I¡­ I¡­ ¡°... She trailed off, her tears sizzling as they fell onto the glowing locust plates she was moulding in her hands, her jaw clenched harder than it¡¯d ever been before. ¡°... This isn¡¯t it,¡± she said, as she forced herself to look at the chief and put a shaky, trembling smile on her face. ¡°This isn¡¯t the ¡®destiny¡¯ I wanted to make, and this isn¡¯t the home I wanted to live in. ¡°If I stay here for the rest of my life, I¡¯ll forget who I am. ¡°I won¡¯t be ¡®Dahlia of Alshifa¡¯ any longer. ¡°So, even if I¡¯m no Hasharana, and even if Alice isn¡¯t here¡­ I¡¯ll kill Madamaron. ¡°I¡¯ll make Swarmsteel strong enough to exterminate the Swarm.¡± And she wasn¡¯t lying. She wasn¡¯t hesitating. As she spoke out loud, she felt a strange calm set over her¡ªthe pounding anxiety and fear she¡¯d been carrying on her back since waking up on the surface hadn¡¯t disappeared, merely pushed into some dark, narrow corner of her head. It was never going to disappear, and it was never going to be easy to accept, but she was an assassin bug: she was the ¡®Make-Whatever¡¯ who carried every single corpse of Alshifa on her back. It was do or die. Eat or be eaten. Her or the Swarm. This was the resolve she¡¯d let go of, and she wasn¡¯t ever going to let go of it again. ¡°... If it¡¯s Swarmsteel you want to make, then there¡¯s something that might be of use to you.¡± And, surprisingly, it was neither the chief nor her daughter that spoke up first¡ªit was Smith Jaleel, whose face was stern as ever as he trudged towards the hatch to the cellar, at the back of the forge. Dahlia sniffled and let go of the burning locust plates in her hands; she¡¯d been wondering for a long time what Jaleel had been keeping down there, and the moment he unlocked the hatch with a key, the foul, acidic stench of an evil god exploded into the forge. All of them apart from Dahlia reeled at the smell, and the only reason why she didn¡¯t flinch was because she¡¯d smelled it very, very closely before. Her heart hammered in her chest, and a drop of sweat beaded down her forehead as her eyes shone with a glimmer of hope. ¡°The flesh has long since rotten, but that Hasharana girl spent many nights pulling it out of the rubble while you were still unconscious, and she told me to keep it safeguarded until you eventually ask for it yourself,¡± Smith Jaleel said, eyes narrowing as he gestured at the stairs leading down to the cellar. ¡°Perhaps it may help, perhaps it may not¡ªbut the carcass of the Mutant firefly belongs only to the girl who tore out its heart.¡± Chapter 57 - Kari Hauling everything out of the forge¡¯s cellar was a daunting, straining task, but with Smith Jaleel and the town chief helping Dahlia out, they eventually managed to drag ¡®it¡¯ up to the surface. The dismantled carcass of the broken Mutant firefly was as frightening as she remembered it: four jagged black arms, two eerily human-like legs, and an almost womanly figure with the pointed chin and the smooth, segmented chitin around its thorax. Without lantern light, she could easily mistake it for a human corpse¡­ only, its flesh had all but rotten away, its arms were severed and had to be carried up individually, and it was just the black husk of the monster she¡¯d unmade with her own two hands. While the town chief pulled her daughter to the back of the forge, covering their noses with a distasteful frown on their faces, Dahlia and Smith Jaleel spread the full carcass out in the centre of the forge. The young man pushed the anvils away to make more room, creating what could only be described as a ritual circle surrounding the charred-black carcass; it appeared the marks and burns its chitin had sustained back when it¡¯d overheated itself with lightning still remained, though they hardly mattered if Dahlia was just going to stick it in the fire anyways. She¡¯d turn the whole thing glowing red if she had to. She didn¡¯t immediately know what to do with the carcass, though, and neither did Smith Jaleel. The two of them stood around in a circle, staring down at its lifeless, eyeless head, and Dahlia was the first to shiver. It wasn¡¯t even that cold outside, but she found her arms hugging herself, an involuntary shudder running down her spine. ¡­ It¡¯s still terrifying, isn¡¯t it? Dead or not¡­ that thing¨C [Is a bug you unmade,] Issam whispered. [Turn it into your strength. Carve off its armour and make whatever you want with it. That is the way of an assassin bug, is it not?] ¡­ Sucking in a slow, heavy breath, she closed her eyes briefly before stepping forward, her gaze steady as she scanned the carcass up and down. Time was of the essence here. She couldn¡¯t stand around deliberating what the best possible Swarmsteel she could make was; she had a maximum of one hour before she had to go down and confront Madamaron if she wanted to help the captured townsfolk. Think. What¡¯s the best thing I can make in one hour? She racked her head. She dropped to her knees, peeled her eyelids wide open, and glared at the carcass of the firefly like she¡¯d never hated anything as badly before. Its severed arms were almost fully intact, but its chest was carved open¡ªshe was the one who¡¯d plunged her hands into its heart¡ªand the claw marks on its thorax and abdomen where she¡¯d followed the silver path made those parts nigh-unusable. Whatever the case, she would have to throw the whole carcass into the fire and soften it up so she could remould it into something useful, but¡­ what? ¡­ And she was reminded, looking down at her own forearms, the very first Swarmsteel she¡¯d made from a fresh giant bug carcass. Simple. But efficient. [And it should have a special ability, too,] Eria murmured. [If I am not mistaken, Swarmsteel crafted from the parts of a Mutant firefly all have the capabilities of¨C] [Shh,] Issam interrupted. [Let her discover it for herself.] [She¡¯s the Make-Whatever, isn¡¯t she?] And though she was being stared at by Smith Jaleel and the town chief and the chief¡¯s daughter all at once, her time spent working in the forge had made her grow slightly thicker skin, and some plates of chitin over her skin to boot; she felt she could bear the weight of their gazes as she picked up the firefly¡¯s severed arms, sticking all four of them into the fire behind her while kicking the rest of the carcass aside. She didn¡¯t let go of any of the severed arms while they heated up. She winced, she squirmed, and she wanted to tear away, but the fire had to burn her¡ªher father always told her a Swarmsteel couldn¡¯t be refined without heat, nor a girl without trials. The pain would keep her sharp and alert. [What do you wanna make, Dahlia?] Amula asked, voice swerving to her left. [Something stretchy and breathable? Like our moth mantles?] Ayla and Aylee said, voices swerving to her right. [A weapon,] Raya grunted. [A blade. A swordstaff. You can chain all four firefly arms together and make a chain-whip.] [Weapons like that don¡¯t suit Dahlia,] Issam countered. [If she¡¯s gonna make something, it¡¯s gotta be¨C] You know, it''s been two months already. You can stop pretending to be them now. Clenching her jaw, twisting her lips, she yanked the glowing red arms out of the fire and slammed them onto the anvil behind her. The chitin sparked blue as it came in contact with the tough iron block, making everyone but her flinch¡ªshe was still slightly teary-eyed, after all. She wasn¡¯t even consciously thinking about it as she moulded the firefly arms with her bare hands, stretching and pressing and curling them into the shapes she wanted. ¡­ I know. Issam is dead. Raya, Amula, Ayla, Aylee, and Jerie are dead. You¡¯re not them, you¡¯re not Eria, and you don¡¯t have to pretend like you are. Who are you? The firefly arms were still sharp. Incredibly tough. She had to grit her teeth and endure both the heat and the cuts in her palms as she worked the clay-like chitin. It wasn¡¯t until a bead of sweat dropped from her brows and hissed against the chitin that the six voices in her head became many; a disjointed, broken entity. And the voices were irrefutably inhuman. [¡­ We are the Bloodline of assassin bugs from four decades ago, before we were massacred by the Worm Mage and Thousand-Tongue of the Long March,] they said, and they sounded like a hundred voices blending together; formless, genderless. They reverberated through her skull. [Humans who eat insects typically get consumed by the insects themselves. They hear the voices of the devoured, and the more insects they eat and the more voices they start to hear inside their heads, they gradually mutate into said insects¡­ this doesn¡¯t happen if you have one of those nasty ¡®systems¡¯, of course. The systems block the ''Bloodline'' voices out. They stop humans from mutating uncontrollably and turn eating insect flesh into a game of ¡®points¡¯ and ¡®attributes¡¯.] Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site. ... [But we are the Bloodline of assassin bugs, and our blood is potent enough that it matters not if you have an Altered Swarmsteel System to block us out,] the Bloodline said, chortling, a chorus of imbalance. [Even if you have a system now, your mother had been carrying assassin bug blood in her veins since before you were even born. You were born with us: the voices that showed you the path to unmaking everything in your way.] [Of course, you never realised you were listening to us when you were a child¡ªand the nightmares you had of us¡ªbut when you ate that firefly two months ago and consumed insect flesh for the first time, you strengthened us. You awakened us fully. Now we can speak to you like this, and you cannot ignore us any longer.] Dahlia kept her eyes cool and steely as she turned the chitin around, curving and moulting the other side. ¡­ And you¡¯re the reason why mama and papa mutated into those things? Half-insects? [Not directly.] [Your mother had already been carrying our blood in her veins before she even arrived in Alshifa, but your father did not. Had the two of them stayed from consuming insect flesh, they would not have strengthened their assassin bug blood, and they could have stayed human for a lot longer. Alas, your father injected your mother¡¯s blood in himself in an attempt to cure both of them, and they both began consuming insect flesh without systems to stave us off¡ªwhat were we supposed to do?] [Not mutate them into assassin bugs?] ¡­ [The same goes for you, too,] the Bloodline whispered, and their voice came from everywhere; above, below, left and right. She kept her eyes focused on the firefly chitin in her hands. [For as long as you live, we will whisper to you. We will have you grow stronger and gather power from every foul bug you slaughter, because that is what assassin bugs do. We eat. We take. We carry their corpses, and we steal their abilities for ourselves. It is nothing as crude as what that Hasharana girl does with her silk, mimicking fighting styles and copying weapons. We absorb, we assimilate, and we adapt. Until you become the strongest in the world or go mad like your father and mother before you, we will not stop¨C] That¡¯s fine by me. So you¡¯re on my side, right? Silence. Dahlia smiled softly, flattening the firefly chitin against the anvil as she did. [... We are on our side,] the Bloodline growled. [We are assassin bugs. We eat. We take. We carry¨C] You¡¯re not on the Swarm¡¯s side, are you? You just want to eat and steal as many abilities as you can, right? Good. An assassin bug carries the dead on its back, so even if you¡¯ve been using the voices of the people I love just to manipulate me¡­ I¡¯m glad that someone still remembers those people alongside me. [...] I want to grow stronger. I want to make my own destiny. If the peace I¡¯m looking for doesn¡¯t exist out there, I¡¯ll make it myself, and I¡¯ll slaughter the Swarm while I¡¯m at it. [... We are on our¨C] Two conditions. One, stop pretending to be my friends. I don¡¯t¡­ I don¡¯t want you manipulating me like that anymore. Two¡ªand I don¡¯t know if this is possible¡ªbut I want you to become one with Eria. The little assassin bug on her shoulder turned to look pointedly at her. [What?] the Bloodline hissed. [Dahlia,] Eria warned. [I intentionally kept vital information on this ¡®Bloodline¡¯ away from you, hoping it would eventually fade away by itself, but if you acknowledge its presence now¨C] Eria. You were created by the Hasharana to stand with humanity, but you didn¡¯t ask to leave with Alice so you could find a user that actually wants to fight for humanity. In that sense, you¡¯ve already betrayed humanity. Bloodline. You were born from the Swarm, but you don¡¯t particularly care about killing humans. As long as you can get stronger, you¡¯re happy. In that sense, you¡¯ve already betrayed the Swarm. Neither of you¡­ belong anywhere but with me. [...] Dahlia forced a smile onto her face as the firefly chitin started solidifying into four, jagged shapes; they were turning out just as she¡¯d hoped. Eria. You know everything there is to know about humanity. You know about the Seven Swarmsteel Fronts, the Hasharana, and you can pull up mean recipes from every corner of the continent. Bloodline. You know everything there is to know about the Swarm. You¡¯re the reason why I have a knack for unmaking bugs, and you¡¯re the one who guides my hands when I¡¯m making Swarmsteel unconsciously, just like I¡¯m doing right now. If the two of you can merge into one and combine your strengths, just like an assassin bug could¡­ ¡­ ¡­ Wouldn¡¯t you be the best Swarmsteel I¡¯ve ever made? Carving in the finishing details, she dumped the firefly chitin into the bucket of quenching oil under the anvil, and then¡ªshe flicked a claw across her entire forearm, bleeding out a steady stream of golden ichor as she held it over the bucket. She was still smiling. She knew what she wanted to do now. ¡­ Thank you, Bloodline, for showing me the steel path all this time. Thank you, Eria, for speaking in mom¡¯s voice for so long. But¡­ I¡¯m okay now. So I need the two of you to hop onto my back and become friends, okay? [...] And there was no sound. No indication that anything had happened in her nape. But it was like something just clicked inside her head, and the next time ¡®it¡¯ spoke in her head, it was one, unified voice. It wasn¡¯t her mother¡¯s voice, nor the voice of her friends¡ªit was something entirely different, and she just knew she¡¯d love it from now on. [... Assimilating assassin bug ¡®Bloodline¡¯ into personal system assistant ¡®Archive¡¯,] it said, as she wrapped her bloody forearm with a piece of cloth and bent over, sticking her arms through all four Swarmsteel in the bucket. [Knowledge integration complete. Full-body physiological information reassessed, complete. Deploying personal system assistant based on user demand; what will I be called from now on, Dahlia?] She stood up straight and lifted her firefly bracers out of the bucket, still dripping and sleazing with oil¡­ but the carvings on them made streaks of gold and black swirl around them in the pattern of a drill, and she thought it was easily the prettiest thing she¡¯d ever made. It was also the strongest Swarmsteel she¡¯d ever made.
[4x Firefly Bracers (Quality = C)(Str +2/12)(Tou +2/4)(Strain +288)] [Special Ability: Defensive Lightning]
¡°... You will be ¡®Kari¡¯,¡± Dahlia whispered, holding up her arms as her eyes glittered at the golden bracers¡ªthen she slammed them down on the anvil, hardening her face, steeling her nerves. Jagged, azure sparks of lightning exploded in a small radius where her bracers made harsh contact with the iron block, and once again, everyone but her flinched. By herself, she was smiling wider than she¡¯d ever smiled before. ¡°You will be the ¡®home¡¯ I carry on my back,¡± she said, ¡°until I can make one for myself.¡± [...] And Kari was still a little assassin bug on her shoulder. Only now, it¡¯d shed its oily black form and picked one with golden streaks and dots on it, mimicking her bracers. [... Thirty-eight minutes remaining,] Kari said, sounding almost cheery as it crawled over her face, poking her cheeks. [Now go save the townsfolk and kill Madamaron, the Destroyer.] Chapter 58 - Unto Undertown Dahlia stood at the edge of the empty oasis, clad in four firefly bracers, two locust greaves, two assassin bug gauntlets, and a gift from the town chief¡¯s daughter: the butterfly goggles that could let her right eye see in the dark. If she¡¯d known she was going to be fighting Madamaron solo a whole week ago, she would¡¯ve asked Alice and Safi to leave a month¡¯s stock of insect flesh behind for her to gnaw on, but there was a reason why the hands of the pocket watches her dad always made could never turn backwards. It was less so to deny the feeling of regret than to strengthen the resolve to move forward no matter what¡ªand on that front, she still felt more than inadequate to think she alone could dare to take on a Mutant that¡¯d been terrorising the town for an entire decade.
[// STATUS] [Name: Dahlia Sina] [Class: Assassin Bug] [BloodVolume: 4.7/4.8 (98%), Strain: 834/1452 (57%)] [Unallocated Points: 25] [// BASIC ATTRIBUTES] [Strength: 7 (+7), Speed: 8 (+2), Dexterity: 8 (+5), Toughness: 5 (+7), Perceptivity: 5, StrainLimit: 1452] [// MUTATION TREE] [T1 Core Mutation | Nymphal Metamorphosis] {T1 Branch Mutation | ???} [T2 Core Mutations | Base Chitin Development | Dagger Antennae] {T2 Branch Mutations | ??? | ???} [// UNIQUE SWARMSTEEL LIST] [2x Assassin Bug Claw Gauntlets (Quality = C)(Str +5/12)(Dex +5/5)(Tou + 2/5)(Strain +395)] [2x Desert Locust Greaves (Quality = D)(Spd +2/2)(Tou +3/4)(Strain +216)] [4x Firefly Bracers (Quality = C)(Str +2/12)(Tou +2/4)(Strain +223)]
¡­ But, at the same time, she didn¡¯t feel like she was alone. The town chief was behind her. Smith Jaleel was behind her. Her dad, her mom, Issam, Raya, Amula, and everyone else in Alshifa¡ªtheir hands were warm on her back, and they gave her a gentle push forward, her assassin bug claws pulling her goggles down as she slid down the giant pit that was the oasis. She''d like to drill Kari about her mom and what the ''Bloodline'' of the assassin bugs really was, but right now, she had bug to slay. Deposit all my remaining points into perceptivity.
[Perceptivity: 5 (+7) ¡ú 6 (+7)] [Unallocated Points: 25 ¡ú 0]
Moonlight faded the moment she dropped through the hole at the bottom, and while it may be dangerous sliding down with her claws screeching against the sandstone walls, the fact Kari didn¡¯t tell her off meant this was the right move¡­ that, or there was no other choice. She didn¡¯t think the assassin bug insect class would have a wing mutation to unlock, nor did she have enough points to even attempt unlocking a tier three core mutation. Maybe she could glide down the hole if she¡¯d made Swarmsteel wings, but there weren¡¯t any parts in the Oasis Town for that; what she had on her was the best she could manage. So she touched down at the bottom of the cold, dark tunnel, and knelt there with all four hands on the ground for a few seconds. Her eyes were closed, she was trying to steady her heart. Her dagger antennae weren¡¯t warning her of any imminent threats, so she had a bit of time to focus on feeling out any vibrations underfoot. ¡­ Nothing of the sort. Madamaron and its brood must¡¯ve retreated deeper underground along one of the tunnels around her. Exhaling coolly, she turned the red dial on the side of her goggles, and her right eye lit up like a torch. Three tunnels around her led left, right, and forward respectively. The walls were corrugated like sandworms had burrowed through, but one of the tunnels was also just large enough for a eight-metre-tall Madamaron to feasibly squirm through without leaving any traces. She stared down the left tunnel, scowled, and began running full speed ahead. Kari. This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience. How long do I have until the antlions start getting hungry? [Ten minutes. But the brood and their nest should be right up ahead,] Kari replied curtly, musing at her status screen as it did. [There were thirty-two Mutant antlion nymphs that surfaced alongside Madamaron, who¡¯s a fully grown antlion. In total, there are thirty-three Mutants you¡¯ll have to contest with¡ªand even if those antlion nymphs are only F-rank Mutants, with your current attributes, mutations, and Swarmsteel, I fear it¡¯ll be almost impossible for you to defeat all of them alone.] I don¡¯t think I¡¯d have to worry about the antlion nymphs. [How so?] She glanced behind her as she ran, and the oppressive darkness of the tunnel stared back; she felt a strange sense of comfort in the silence nevertheless. Her eyes may not be able to see ¡¯it¡¯, but her dagger antennae told her ¡®it¡¯ was watching behind her. ¡­ That ¡®impossibility¡¯ is Eria speaking, but what does Kari have to say about the antlions? she asked. It was strange from the very beginning, right? According to the chief, Madamaron used to only eat three or four people a year, and then it¡¯d stay dormant until the next year. Pattern. Why is it so aggressive this year, then? Why¡¯d it send the water bug to attack me and the chief¡¯s daughter? What¡¯s different about this year? Kari thought for a moment before looking at her, turning atop her shoulder. [The cocoons,] it said. [I see. Since thirteen Mutant-bearing cocoons landed across the Sharaji Desert, Madamaron was able to feast on some of them and grow abnormally powerful within the past few months. As it cannibalised more and more of its own kind, its behaviour shifted as well¡ªit sent the water bug to attack you and the girl because it thought it could get away with it, even if an Arcana Hasharana was here.] Dahlia clicked her tongue. But, at the end of the day, it was still afraid of Alice. That¡¯s why it did so many things to try to throw her off. The water bug and the fog-bask beetles made her think it was a Lesser Great Mutant who could coordinate other bugs, and then it sent one of its antlion nymphs out to fight us in that undertown. It probably wanted her to think ¡®oh, it¡¯s much weaker than I thought¡¯ so she¡¯d feel satisfied killing it and leave as quickly as she¡¯d arrived. [Even if it¡¯s abnormally powerful because of the cannibalisation, it wouldn¡¯t do all that if it was confident of its own power. It¡¯s not a Lesser Great Mutant.] Bordering on one, maybe? [Perhaps. I estimate¡­ no. It¡¯s around B-rank; two ranks higher than the antlion nymph and three ranks higher than the firefly. Just two more ranks and it might be able to formulate a few human words, but as it is right now, it¡¯s still just as a normal Mutant.] [Madamaron would most certainly be a tougher opponent than the antlion nymph it tried to pass off as itself, but for an Arcana Hasharana like Alice, it would still be no issue. She¡¯d be able to decimate it and its brood all by herself within three hours.] Mhm. So it definitely tried to lure Alice away. But you were there when we all watched that antlion nymph burn, and you saw her face. Was that the face of someone satisfied with themselves? Would someone like that really, really just up and leave without finishing their job? A small smile crawled onto her face as she sprinted towards a point of moonlight in the distance. She was coming up on some sort of cavern with an open-air ceiling, and¡­ she already had an idea where she was going to end up in. But she wasn¡¯t worried. She wasn¡¯t nervous. The closer she got to her first and final arena in the Sharaji Desert, the calmer she felt¡ªif it were her from a week ago, maybe she¡¯d lose it and try to run away, but there was no reason for her to do it now. ¡®Home¡¯ was on her back, in her nape. Not in front of her. ¡­ Seriously. I don¡¯t like that girl. She should just tell me what her plan is and either help me out, or force me to help her out. [Can I be honest with you as well?] Yeah? [I don¡¯t quite like her either.] She laughed¡ªso did Kari¡ªand that was the sound she brought into Alshifa as she sprinted out of the once-blockaded Southern Luwu Tunnel. Alshifa wasn¡¯t as it used to be. Dark and gloomy it may have always been, but it was never dilapidated or ruined; now, most of the buildings around the walls of the cavern were crushed under mountains of rubble where the firefly had zapped the ceiling above with lightning. The streets were jagged, broken, and uneven. The rivers and sewers were dry with sand still trickling down from the giant chasm overhead, where moonlight illuminated the entire undertown in soft, chilling glows of blue and white. Several streets and buildings still stood across the cavern, but they were few and far between¡ªthe brood of antlions had turned Alshifa into their own den. Standing at the opening of the Southern Luwu Tunnel, she almost had a full view of the undertown at a slight incline below her, and she could see the things that didn¡¯t belong: near the outskirts, where beautiful fields of bioluminescent wheat and flowers used to be, dozens of sandpits were dug to trap crowds of Sharaji townsfolk within. Slimy eggs clung to most of what remained of the buildings, leathering shells pulsing faintly pink and purple. Every street was slick with blackened, devoured bug carcasses, and Mutant antlion nymphs crawled all over them as they continued feasting to their heart¡¯s content. None of the antlion nymphs seemed to notice her arrival immediately. They probably weren¡¯t expecting anyone to follow them here after the violent display aboveground. A quick headcount of the captured townsfolk to her far left made her sigh a short breath of relief. It seemed she¡¯d arrived in time to stop most, if not all of them from getting eaten¡ªthe antlions probably wanted to finish all the carcasses that were already in Alshifa first before diving into fresh food. If she could somehow sneak past all of the antlion nymphs and kill Madamaron first, that might break any ¡®morale¡¯ they had. ¡­ As if it was going to be that easy, though. Her dagger antennae shot up straight, and she whirled where she stood to see Madamaron clinging to the wall above the tunnel¡ªsleek, four-armed, four-winged, and armoured from antennae to claw, it was the same eight-metre-tall monstrosity she¡¯d seen aboveground. Unlike the rest of its carefree brood, it¡¯d been waiting for her, and the glowing, beady crimson eyes that glared down at her reminded her of Alice¡¯s own eyes. ¡­ For a few seconds, neither of them moved. Dahlia didn¡¯t breathe. Madamaron didn¡¯t blink. And then she braced her forearms in front of her as Madamaron lunged down, rearing a single, jagged fist back. Chapter 59 - Upon the Bed of Carcasses Dahlia braced her forearms in front of her as Madamaron lunged down, rearing a single, jagged fist back. Don¡¯t be afraid! Don¡¯t back down! And though her eyes were most definitely squeezed shut, lightning exploded out of her bracers as Madamron¡¯s fist rammed into them. The shockwave made her entire body jolt, made the cavern flash blue and white, but it also made Madamaron jerk back in surprise¡ªit screeched backwards with all six limbs clawing across the ground, its red compound eyes zooming in and out as it tried to study her new weapon. Her firefly bracers weren¡¯t so much a weapon as they were just a really, really powerful shield, though. And they hurt her just as much as her attacker. But¡­ It works! she thought, gritting her teeth as she mimicked its retreat, skidding backwards with all four hands dragging across the ground. As long as I can block with my bracers, Madamaron can¡¯t go all out! Certainty! The lightning¡¯s strength is proportional to how hard it hits! [Be that as it may,] Kari warned, [the other antlion nymphs have noticed your presence. You¡¯ll be safe if you can block with your bracers, but you only have four arms. You can¡¯t block every attack. Therefore¨C] I know! Hit and run! She kicked off the ground, sprinting deep into Alshifa while Madamaron was still shaking off the electricity coursing through its fist. The horde of antlion nymphs spread out across the undertown immediately reared their heads back and screeched, but she ignored them for the time being¡ªnone of them could fly, and she was the one who knew how to navigate Alshifa like it was the back of her hand. [What¡¯s the plan, Dahlia? Where are you going?] Buying time! It took a few seconds, but the shadow of Madamaron loomed over her, soaring and pursuing her across the town. She spotted the fortress-like shelter still standing down the street, though, and the doors were wide open¡ªshe hadn¡¯t closed them behind her when she¡¯d set off to kill the Mutant firefly, after all¡ªso she rushed through the doorway, barely evading Madamaron as it crash-landed right outside the door. Tumbling into a roll and whirling around in the same motion, she watched as Madamaron tried to squeeze through the tiny doorway. It reached its arms through in an attempt to rip her out of the shelter, but it was too big. The shelter was always designed to be physically indestructible against the Swarm, and while a Mutant was no normal giant insect, Madamaron wasn¡¯t that strong, either. It couldn¡¯t punch a hole in the wall. It couldn¡¯t pry the doorway apart. It glared at her, eyes brimming with cold fury, but for her part¡­ her eyes were only shimmering with the light of a brilliant revelation. ¡­ Antlion. Its first weakness is its size and inflexibility. Madamaron wasn¡¯t human-sized like the firefly. It was eight metres tall and slim, but certainly not small. If that five-metre-tall Mutant antlion nymph she fought had trouble catching her¡ªbecause it was like a titan trying to swat a fly¡ªthen Madamaron had it even worse. Without ranged attacks, it couldn¡¯t easily get her as long as she was inside the shelter. That didn¡¯t mean it couldn¡¯t get her, of course. She bounced to her feet and immediately jumped to the second floor platforms, cutting out through the windows the moment Madamaron ripped the entire shelter from the ground. A flash of fear went through her eyes as she glanced back at it, seeing the building fly at her. She leapt off a roof as Madamaron tossed the shelter into a mound of rubble, making the entire cavern rumble; she kept on running and jumping across the roofs, heading straight towards the Alshifa Bug-Slaying School at the eastern end of town. Just because it¡¯s a super strong Mutant doesn¡¯t mean it doesn¡¯t have weaknesses! she thought, continuing to glance behind her to see how fast Madamaron was flying at her. She panicked when she couldn¡¯t see its shadow anywhere overhead. The firefly overheated when it used its lightning too much, and the antlion nymph was too slow and clumsy for its size! Madamaron, too, must have¨C She was halfway across the Great Alshifa Bridge¡ªwhere she¡¯d slain the pine-sawyer beetle¡ªwhen her dagger antennae suddenly tingled. Danger. She jumped preemptively, her locust greaves propelling her forward and straight through the windows of a second-floor classroom. Madamaron shattered the bridge from below half a second later, ripping the heavy metal construct apart as it soared high into the air. Obviously, it can fly. She grimaced. That¡¯s one major strength I can¡¯t overcome, but that doesn¡¯t mean I can¡¯t bring it down. How tough is it? Scanning the boxes of prototype weapons and armour scattered across the classroom, she immediately darted over and picked up two, three, four scorpion stinger-tipped spears. Madamaron noticed her standing by the broken window and soared down. With full-body twists, she chucked all four javelins at its head, eyes going wide as she watched it swerve out of their way before ramming through the side of the school¡ªdestruction. If she hadn¡¯t jumped back and out of the classroom, rolling into the hallway, she would¡¯ve been decimated by its quadruple punch. ¡­ Huh. Before Madamaron could continue rampaging through the school, she dashed and carved through the wall at the end of the hallway, jumping out of the school. She smiled a little when she realised she was only a bit nervous falling thirty metres down the vertical cliff the school was built atop. Alice had really dragged her around the past few weeks, making her jump here, making her fall there; she landed heels-first on the roof of the Alshifa orphanage, breaking into a sprint with her greaves absorbing most of the impact. The antlion nymph I fought back then put a real effort into blocking and deflecting Alice¡¯s attacks, but Madamaron dodged those javelins instead of just eating it head-on. Why? [Because antlion nymphs are ambush predators highly specialised in capturing prey with minimal energy expenditure. They can afford to have thicker armour because they don¡¯t have to move as much,] Kari said, finishing her thought. [But the adult antlion discards its armour for a larger, more manoeuvrable body by growing two pairs of glassy wings. It takes to the skies instead of digging sandpits in the ground. That¡¯s why¨C] Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road. Weakness number two: its chitin isn¡¯t nearly as tough as its nymph counterparts. She dashed through the Eastern Harzhal Street, Madamaron hounding at her heels. She skipped across the Northeastern Burqal Street, vaulting through a window and coming out the other side of the building as Madamaron rammed through it. The Northeastern Keefa Street, the Northern Glasa Street, and then the Northern Bridge Street¡ªshe dodged and ran and jumped in a desperate race across the undertown, sprays of shattered sandstone flying everywhere Madamaron tore through. She was working her greaves overtime, and she knew it, but she hadn¡¯t run out of stamina yet; two months of back-breaking reed-picking under the sweltering morning sun had pushed her endurance to the max. The same couldn¡¯t be said for Madamaron. Whatever she¡¯d expected to see when she glanced around¡ªwhile running up the stairs to her old house¡ªit wasn¡¯t Madamaron crawling on the ground on all six limbs, running like a lowly rabble bug. Its wings were folded on its back. Its elongated body meant it still moved incredibly quickly with each step, but it was no flight. [Indeed, while antlions have large, lace-like wings that are capable of powerful flaps, they¡¯re simply that¡ª¡®powerful¡¯ flaps,] Kari said, as she jumped atop the caved-in roof of her house and narrowed her eyes at the edge of the hill where Madamaron was eventually going to poke its head over. [The sandstorms it can make by flapping its powerful wings are always ephemeral and short-lived, and while they may be unnatural enough to convince the townsfolk of ¡®magic¡¯, you¡¯re seeing the ugly truth it doesn¡¯t want anyone to see. Their wings aren¡¯t built for sustained flight.] And that¡¯s because, in the desert, adult antlions don¡¯t really have predators, she continued, exhaling coolly and sharpening her claws with her teeth. It was written in mom¡¯s insect encyclopaedia. Certainty. Adult antlions fly primarily for finding mates and dispersing to new areas for laying eggs, not for hunting or fleeing from predators. After all, once they grow up¨C [They lose their chewing mandibles and grow syphon tubes instead, feeding on pollen and nectar like many true bugs,] Kari continued, injecting more adrenaline into her veins, sharpening her senses, expanding her vision. [It¡¯s quite peculiar. When they¡¯re nymphs, they dig sandpits and viciously tear apart any prey that falls in, but after they moult and morph into adults, they stop being voracious carnivores. Their predatory phase is entirely confined to their nymphal stage, which means¨C] There¡¯s another reason why Madamaron has always resorted to terror and cloak-and-dagger tactics, she finished, closing her eyes briefly. By nature, an adult antlion is just not as aggressive and bloodthirsty as a nymph. Its third weakness is its low stamina. It can¡¯t fly for very long. [... How strange,] Kari mused. [The Altered Swarmsteel Systems¡¯ database certainly doesn¡¯t have this much information on antlions. Is this knowledge coming from ¡®Eria¡¯, or is this coming from the ¡®Bloodline¡¯?] Both. You¡¯re ¡®Kari¡¯ now. And she opened her eyes, turning a dial on her butterfly goggles to make her right eye glow bright gold. ¡­ I¡¯m going, dad. I¡¯ll make my own way. The moment Madamaron reared its ugly head over the edge of the hill, she exploded off the roof of her house¡ªdemolishing the dilapidated cabin behind her and burying her father once and for all. Come on, now! You and me! The springs and gears in her greaves creaked and groaned as she shot at Madamaron¡¯s head, four hands reaching in front of her, and she slammed straight into its eyes with a horrific squelch. Madamaron tried to fan out its wings, but she¡¯d launched into it hard enough to loosen its grip. She rode it off the edge of the hill, plummeting yet another thirty metres down, but this time she wasn¡¯t just falling. Gnashing her teeth together, she ripped out both of its eyes with two hands, and then followed the steel path with her other two hands, carving along the folds of its chitin plates to strip the armour off its face. Madamaron unhinged its jaw and screeched, its blade-like tongue stabbing out at her neck. She felt the attack coming with her antennae and jerked her head hard right, the blade only grazing her cheek as she continued ripping off its face. Don¡¯t stop! Cut as deep as you can! Ten metres before its back could slam into the ground, it finally managed to snap out its wings. Madamaron had recovered its stamina. It immediately flapped its wings backwards, flying blindly through multiple ruined buildings. She crawled around its body to prevent the debris from crushing her into pulp, but it was only her goggles that protected her eyes from all the shrapnel flying away. Still, a few pebbles cracked her lenses, fogging her vision. She held onto its neck for dear life with two claws, the other two still hacking and slashing away at its face, and eventually¡ªbreakthrough. She opened a small human head-sized hole in its forehead and plunged two claws through, grabbing what felt like a brain before twisting with all her might. Madamaron suddenly lost its sense of balance. It was about to smash backwards through yet another building when its wings went limp, so she took advantage. Letting go of its neck, she reared her free arms back and punched down, slamming it skull-first into the ground¡ªand then its body tore through the street as it started skidding to a halt, the impact throwing her off and making her tumble into a painful roll herself. ¡­ Heaving, panting, gasping for breath, she clawed to her feet and glared at Madamaron lying face down on the ground a good thirty metres away from her. Somehow, it¡¯d flown both of them right back to the centre of town¡ªthe bazaar where everything started, moonlight falling cold and bright through the overhead chasm¡ªand it was nothing but a wasteland of charred-black debris. A small circular arena of sorts was carved out by those same debris, so she found it rather fitting; the place where the firefly had risen from the dead was also where Madamaron was rising from the dead. It was hardly dead on the opposite end of the arena, after all. Chitin plates flaked off its slender body. Bony spikes grew out its joints like those on the antlion nymphs. Madamaron clawed to its feet, and this time it stood only on two legs like a human would. Its face regenerated with twisting, contorting muscles, and the hole in its forehead was sealed with a fresh new layer of chitin plates. It took a little while longer for its eyes to regrow, but soon it got those back, too, looking completely unharmed even through their entire exchange. It was a Mutant at the end of the day, so the only way she could kill it was by destroying its heart. But right now, did she have the strength left to go for another round? ¡°¡­ Weakness number four: your chitin plates are tough, but only three centimetres thick, and weakness number five: your heart isn¡¯t in your head,¡± she whispered, letting out a heavy breath as she wiped blood off her lips, pulling the cracked goggles off her sweaty face. ¡°You have¡­ a sixth weakness, too. Fatal. Do you¡­ know what that is?¡± Madamaron couldn¡¯t respond, of course. It was no Lesser Great Mutant. It could only tilt its head in mock interest as it strode towards her, popping its shoulders and stretching its limbs while she raised a single finger in front of her. That got it to freeze twenty metres before her, and it made her chuckle. ¡°Like most insects¡­ antlions exhibit little to no parental care,¡± she breathed, mimicking its head tilt. ¡°Where¡¯s your brood of nymphs, desert god?¡± ¡°...¡± And though she was sure it didn¡¯t understand her words, it suddenly looked around and noticed; there were thirty-two antlion nymphs in Alshifa, but none of them had helped it catch her. Because by now, all of them were surely dead, and she¡¯d bought enough time. ¡°... I¡¯m not alone, Madamaron,¡± she said, holding out an open palm to her left and smiling softly as she did. ¡°And upon the bed of carcasses¨C¡± ¡°The flightless moth lies.¡± A red blur descended from the moon and smashed down next to her¡ªclasping her hand with an amused laugh as the ground rippled around them. The god-killer had returned. Chapter 60 - Recollection A red blur descended from the moon and smashed down feet-first next to Dahlia¡ªclasping her hand with an amused laugh as the ground rippled around them. The Hangman had returned, and she was twirling a giant silk-woven glaive in her right hands. ¡°You figured I hadn¡¯t left?¡± Alice asked, beaming at Dahlia from the side. ¡°Seriously! What if I¡¯d really, really left? You were gonna look incredibly silly holding your hand out, saying ¡®upon the bed of carcasses¡¯¨C¡± ¡°Rude. You were the one who made the catchphrase.¡± Dahlia scowled back, exhaling slowly as she released the tension in her muscles. ¡°Next time¡­ clue me in on your plan, huh?¡± Alice shook her head cheerily. ¡°No can do! If you knew I was still hanging around the desert, you wouldn¡¯t really be afraid of Madamaron, and it can sense if you¡¯re afraid or not! It wouldn¡¯t have attacked if it¡¯d known I was still around!¡± Dahlia grumbled under her breath. The Hasharana wearing her face was unpredictable as ever, but that was Alice¡¯s strength¡ªMadamaron¡¯s weakness. For the past ten minutes it¡¯d been chasing Dahlia around Alshifa, throwing her left and right, up and down, but now it stood against two of her. Like twins. Like a puppet and its shadow. Whether its eyesight was keen enough to differentiate between the two of them or not, there was no doubt in Dahlia¡¯s mind that it was a bit skittish staring straight at them. If they¡¯d both bothered to dress up the same, there was a real chance it simply wouldn¡¯t be able to tell them apart, and then they could take it apart by confusing it to all hell. It wouldn¡¯t have to dodge Dahlia¡¯s pathetic attacks, but it would have to dodge Alice¡¯s attacks; if it didn¡¯t know which one of them it had to pay attention to, it¡¯d have to spare energy to deal with both of them, leading to clumsier movements and quicker exhaustion. Of course, Alice could just fight it solo as well. ¡°... It¡¯s big and inflexible,¡± Dahlia muttered, glaring straight at Madamaron as she let go of Alice¡¯s hand. ¡°Its chitin armour is also only half as tough as the nymph we fought back in Cacip. Three centimetres thick. It can regenerate them in under thirty seconds, but its stamina is also lacking. It can¡¯t stay airborne forever.¡± ¡°Got it.¡± Alice grinned, striding forward as she bit her nails to pull out spirals of glowing blood threads. A few flicks of her wrists, a few twirls of her hands, and she wove one more giant glaive for her left hands. ¡°Anything else I need to know about?¡± ¡°Its heart isn¡¯t in its head.¡± ¡°Oh, I figured. They usually aren¡¯t anywhere close to the head.¡± ¡°It¡¯s probably in the chest, then.¡± ¡°No shit. Where else can it¨C¡± Madamaron may have been stuck in a daze, but no longer. It stopped shuffling back unconsciously. Its feet sank into the stone as it exploded forward, dark winds swirling around its fist as it punched down¡ªand Alice swung back, matching four oversized arms with two oversized glaives. A shockwave lashed out at everything within reach, throwing Dahlia back, making the ring of debris scatter. Alice¡¯s glaives weren¡¯t surgical blades. They wedged themselves into Madamaron¡¯s forearm chitin with sheer brute force, and she laughed as she swung the giant back into a building, her crimson wings fanning out along the motion to add more wind to the force. Madamaron rolled and scraped against sharp rock, screeching all the way. It hadn¡¯t come to a stop yet when Alice dashed in with a puff of dust, soaring overhead with her glaives coming down on its head. Very quickly, their battle became impossible to follow. Dahlia knelt with her arms in front of her face, lightning sparking every time shrapnel bounced off her bracers, and¡­ the two of them were off into Alshifa. The cavern filled with unnatural rumbles as they struck each other through walls and towers, broken fountains and rotten oaks, trading flurries of blows so fast she could barely tell who was winning. Alice was laughing, though, and Madamaron¡ªdespite its size¡ªcouldn¡¯t seem to rest for a single moment. It was an even more extreme case of the antlion nymph fight. If there was one advantage humans innately had against the Swarm, it was the fact that their enemies were usually much, much bigger than them¡ªand that meant, at equal speeds, Alice was far more elusive and irritating to catch. [... It still hasn¡¯t used that ability, though,] Kari noted. It will in a few seconds. Once it realises it can¡¯t beat Alice in a head-on fight¨C This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. Madamaron punched the ground with all four of its arms, throwing Alice back with a shockwave before taking off into the air. It¡¯d fought on its feet the entire time, but now it¡¯d recovered most of its wing stamina; sand and dust and smaller debris began swirling around it in a giant cyclone as it beat its wings, vibrating its limb like an antlion nymph would, too, to add to the wind pressure. Everything it could do to obfuscate its figure and make itself appear more menacing than it really was, it did¡­ but Alice wasn¡¯t afraid, and neither was Dahlia as the Hasharana landed next to her with a screeching halt. They grimaced up at the cyclone, their hair whipping into their faces, small dust fragments scraping against their chitin plates. Above ground, the cyclone was manageable, but underground in a relatively enclosed cavern? It could very well collapse the entire undertown. It was in their best interest to bring it down before that could happen, and while Alice could most certainly do it one way or the other, Dahlia sucked in a sharp breath and grabbed the Hasharana before she could leap through the cyclone. ¡°... I¡¯ll do it,¡± she breathed. Alice glanced back at her, and there was a twinkle of amusement in the Hasharana¡¯s eyes. She almost felt as though she were being tested on her resolve, but on that front, she¡¯d never felt as determined to do something as ever before. Besides, there was an itch in her body that just wouldn¡¯t go away, and her gut instinct told her this was something she had to do sooner or later. With Kari in her head, Alshifa on her back, and Alice by her side, she wasn¡¯t going to be alone doing this. ¡°...¡± So, there was no warning. There was no exchange of pleasantries. Alice counter-grabbed one of her wrists, pivoted, spun, and chucked her full-force up into the cyclone. She was mentally prepared for the speed. Physically, though¡ªher teeth rattled and her eyes stung with pain as she shot through the cyclone of debris, soaring twenty metres up and straight at Madamaron¡¯s chest. Panicked, Madamaron lashed out and tried to swat her away, but she braced her arms in front of her face as she flew. A burst of defensive lightning made its impacting fists jolt back. The spark completely blindsided the giant, and she slammed feet-first against its chestplate, her greaves cracking its chitin as she held onto the spikes on its chest with two hands. With the other two, she narrowed her eyes and hissed, slashing along the steel threads to dismantle its chitin plates with violent splatters of blood. That¡¯s all it takes! I don¡¯t need to know where its heart is exactly, either! Time seemed to slow as the cyclone roared around them. Madamaron was zipping about with its wings, trying to fling her off as it shook its electrified fists, but she had an iron grip on its chest; she wouldn¡¯t let go no matter what. And her left hand wasn¡¯t clenched into a fist as she reared it back, five black claws aiming for the centre mass of its exposed, fleshy chest. Her dad always said it best, after all: fear is the child who clenches her fists in the face of a bug, and if she was clenching her fist, she wouldn¡¯t be able to make anything. She didn¡¯t ¡®hate¡¯ the Swarm as much as she wanted to make a new home for herself, so she¡¯d never clench her fist to destroy anything again. She¡¯d make a better destiny for herself, and that¡ª
[T1 Branch Mutation Unlocked: Recollection] [Brief Description: You are an assassin bug who carries the weight of the dead on your back. You can use the abilities of all humanlike bugs you defeat and devour]
¡ªhad to begin with the death of a desert god. ¡°... Upon the bed of carcasses,¡± she whispered, her vision tinged with gold as she let her gut instinct take over, her voice melding with a raspier, darker voice in her heart. ¡°Recollection: Firefly.¡± It didn¡¯t come from her bracers. It didn¡¯t come from anyone around her. A jolt sharpened her spine, tightened her muscles, and golden lightning crackled around her claws as she hissed, plunging her left hand into Madamaron¡¯s exposed chest. Each second maintaining the electricity around her hand sent stabbing pains back into her own body¡ªshe had no mutations to help her endure lightning yet¡ªbut Madamaron¡¯s heavy breaths quickly turned into something more ragged, more primordial. It screeched and buckled and dropped to the ground, the cyclone dispelled in an instant by its off-rhythm wings. She rode it all the way down with her claws still plunged in, though, twisting its flesh, her eyes tearing up as she remembered what it¡¯d looked like: the Mutant firefly throwing lightning javelins wherever which way, flashes of azure light streaking across the undertown. It was a menace back then, so she¡¯d channel that aggression now. Sending lightning through its insides and burning it from the inside-out, she glared into its eyes as they crashed into the ground, making the cavern rumble one last time. Even as Madamaron¡¯s back was broken against the ground, she didn¡¯t pull her lightning claws out. She kept them stabbed in, sparking, crackling with pure golden light¡ªuntil all the desert god could do was convulse uncontrollably, unmistakably dead with its heart charred to a crisp. ¡­ Maybe Safi or Alice would have something to say about making the Mutant¡¯s flesh borderline dangerous to eat, but as she ripped her claws out and stumbled back on its chest, gasping for breath, eating insect flesh was the last thing she wanted to think about. She deactivated her lightning claws with a simple thought, and all was silent in Alshifa once more. What little buildings that hadn''t been destroyed by the firefly had been destroyed by Madamaron. Moonlight fell cold and bright upon the barren cavern. Dahlia¡¯s knees finally buckled under the weight of exhaustion, but she managed to raise her own left hand and forced a smile onto her face¡ªbeaming at the Arcana Hasharana who smiled heartily back at her. ¡­ Madamaron is dead. And I unmade it. Chapter 61 - To the World On the first day, Dahlia, Alice, and half of the healthy townsfolk descended into Alshifa to rescue those who¡¯d been kidnapped. It wasn¡¯t an easy rescue¡ªof the three hundred or so kidnapped townsfolk, forty-three of them had perished on the way down, so it wasn¡¯t an entirely bloodless effort. Forty-three men and women and children died to destroy the Destroyer, and that was how they were going to be remembered for the years and decades to come. On the second, third, and fourth day, they performed the Arima¡¯ila funeral for the deceased. They were quiet funerals attended only by close friends and loved ones. Dahlia sat most of them out, and so did Alice. They weren¡¯t from the Oasis Town, after all. On the fifth day, they collapsed the desert above Alshifa and submerged the undertown in sand for good. No giant bug could take refuge in it ever again, and with its destruction, every undertown in the Sharaji Desert was now officially buried. Dahlia didn¡¯t attend Alshifa¡¯s burial, either. She¡¯d already seen its funeral thrice; there was no point seeing it a fourth time. On the sixth day and onwards, everyone began repairing the Oasis Town, mind and body. Today was the eleventh day¡ªone week after the death of Madamaron. Exactly three months since Dahlia arrived at the Sharaji Oasis Town. Her day began as usual with the ring of the morning bell. Camels bleated outside, the elders threw the window flaps open, the shopkeepers and stall owners trudged out their sandstone houses to set up their wares by the bazaar, yawning and greeting each other with their hands interlocked in prayers. The quiet hubbub would soon grow into the familiar hustle and bustle, but Dahlia was already at the oasis, digging holes alongside two dozen reed farmers to open new aquifers to replenish the drained water. It was simple but honest work. While most of the rest of the townsfolk were preoccupied with repairing the houses and kitchens, the town¡¯s one and only water source had to be replenished within the week¡­ and with a bit of luck, they¡¯d managed to restore half of the oasis within the past few days. By plugging up the tunnel Madamaron had burst out of and then digging horizontally to uncover new aquifers, the oasis would naturally recharge over time, so Kari calculated it''d be back to its usual sparkling emerald self within two or three more weeks. Everyone had to be sparing with water for the time being, but they could get through this no problem. They were surface-dwelling humans. They¡¯d endured tougher than this. Eight separate aquifers¡­ should be good enough, right? She thought, wiping sweat off her brow as she climbed out of the oasis with the other farmers, peering down at the slowly filling oasis. [It is. Now, all we need to do is let nature run its course.] Right. Then¨C Mushariff Idan tapped her shoulder from behind, and she turned slowly to see him offering her a platter for lunch: hollowed vegetables stuffed with rice, ground meat, and spices. There were even grilled kebabs for her to choose from, so, this time, she didn¡¯t refuse the offer. For the first time in three months, she shared her lunch with the farmers out in the open sun, fidgeting uncomfortably as they shared and spoke tall tales of the desert god¡¯s slaughter. She¡¯d half a mind to correct some of the rumours they were spinning¡ªshe most certainly hadn¡¯t invoked the lightning god¡¯s blessing to charge her claws with, nor was she the one in the red cloak who¡¯d flung Madamaron into building after building¡ªbut, for some reason, she didn¡¯t really feel like barging in on their fun. Her face was beet-red all the way through lunch hour as they grabbed her shoulder and made her toast with them; like everyone else, she enjoyed being complimented every once in a while, too. Mushariff Idan and the farmers bowed as she left for her second job in the afternoon. Fortunately for the town, the forge was almost completely untouched during Madamaron¡¯s surface invasion, which meant business was booming for Smith Jaleel. Perhaps it was booming too much, though¡ªhe snapped at her to put on her apron as she squeezed in through the back door she made just a few days ago, but, still riding the high from getting complimented so much, she grumbled something back at him. She wasn¡¯t sure what she really even said, but it probably had something to do with her low wages, given how hard the queuing townsfolk laughed and how miffed Jaleel looked. For the rest of the afternoon, it was back to forging basic household items and amenities for her and Jaleel. Many, many things needed to be replaced after Madamaron¡¯s invasion, so she didn¡¯t think she¡¯d be able to tear down her growing lists of orders anytime soon. She was more than happy to help out however she could, of course¡­ but at this rate, she¡¯d be stuck here for another two, three months. And Jaleel needed her help. If it was just him, it¡¯d easily be half a year before the town could function properly again. ¡­ As she had that thought, though, sundown came. She was quietly shaping a molten metal door in the furnace with her bare hands when her dagger antennae tingled, and she turned around to see the town chief¡¯s daughter prancing up the stairs, standing at attention with her arms folded behind her back. She loudly proclaimed she was going to work here alongside Jaleel, who immediately tossed her an apron and thumbed at the workbench in the corner where she could start off with the easy-to-handle trinkets. Then, he turned to Dahlia and tossed her a pouch of silver coins. ¡°You¡¯re fired,¡± he said plainly. ¡°I have a new apprentice.¡± ¡°...¡± He didn¡¯t bother waiting for her response. She may be several times stronger and faster and tougher than him, but he picked her up by her scarf and tossed her outside the forge. She blinked as she turned around to stare at him. He didn¡¯t hesitate. He pulled down the barred gate so he could work with the chief¡¯s daughter, but not before throwing another bag out at her¡ªshe didn¡¯t need to pull out the lace to know what was inside the giant leather sack. The rest of the town may want nothing more to do with their destroyed Destroyer, but Jaleel was different. Maybe it was because he was of the younger generation, or maybe it was because he¡¯d been hanging around insect parts more than anyone else in town, but he had no problem giving her all the parts he¡¯d harvested off of Madamaron. For an eight-metre-tall giant of a Mutant, she¡¯d expected a lot more usable parts than what could all fit inside a leather sack, but¡­ This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. It¡¯s something, at least. [Do refrain from using lightning to kill bugs in the future if you want to maintain the quality of their parts.] Got it. As she sighed with a soft smile and slung the leather sack over her shoulders, the chief¡¯s daughter whispered at her to come closer to the gate. She obliged with a frown, and she definitely didn¡¯t expect the little girl to hand her a second pair of butterfly goggles to replace the one she¡¯d broken in her fight with Madamaron. ¡°... Thank you!¡± the little girl said in Alshifa Tongue, beaming from ear to ear as she waved Dahlia off. ¡°Come back! Soon!¡± ¡­ Smiling, she rubbed the little girl¡¯s head through the bars before turning her back to the forge, deliberately avoiding the communal kitchens and the dense streets as she trudged towards the far northern edge of town. If she was spotted by anyone, she¡¯d no doubt be dragged into some sort of celebratory feast¡ªand she was still no good with big crowds¡ªso she was immensely grateful her thin chitin plates were black as oil, camouflaging her slightly as she slipped through the shadowy alleys. In the end, she hadn¡¯t gotten to know the townsfolk of the Sharaji Oasis Town as well as she¡¯d hoped, but¡­ to begin with, her destiny was not supposed to have intertwined with theirs for as long as it had. This wasn¡¯t her home. And now that the oasis was sure to be replenished¡ªand Smith Jaleel had also successfully hired a new apprentice to replace her¡ªshe could disappear in the middle of the night and the town would be none the wiser. ¡­ Which was easier said than done, of course, given she spotted the town chief standing at the northern edge of town all by her lonesome. The middle-aged lady¡¯s arms were crossed, and under her veil and heavy-looking head chains, she looked absolutely miffed at the fact that Dahlia was trying to sneak away just as Alice had two weeks ago. The chief looked like there were a million things she wanted to say, her lips half-parted, her eyes half-lidded, but didn¡¯t know where to start. For her part, Dahlia simply stopped for a moment, wore the butterfly goggles around her neck, and walked past the chief with a grateful little nod. ¡°...¡± Dahlia didn¡¯t turn around as she left the Sharaji Oasis Town, but she knew the chief turned after her, bowing deeply, solemnly¡ªand for what it was worth, she had enjoyed her time in the town. It simply wasn¡¯t her home, though, so she had to leave. She closed her eyes and listened softly, deeply, as the Oasis Town behind her celebrated the end of the week with a loud and boisterous feast. They deserved the rest. They deserved the desert. The night winds were crisp as she trudged up a giant dune, then down the other side, and embarked on a straight-line journey using the effigies of dangling antlions as guideposts. So tacky, she thought, curling a lip as she passed by one of the effigies. It was five metres tall, woven out of hardened blood silk, and the hollow husk of a Mutant antlion nymph was hanging from the stake with its remaining chitin slashed and mutilated with small knives. All in total, there were thirty-two of these effigies scattered in the dunes surrounding the Oasis Town, and for the time being, the townsfolk had no idea they¡¯d been erected; they¡¯d certainly come as a surprise eventually, but if the townsfolk were smart, they wouldn¡¯t dare rip them out of the ground. They served as a dark warning to any Mutant encroaching on this territory: ¡®leave, or be strung up by the Hangman¡¯. Dahlia certainly got shivers down her spine as she walked past them. [They¡¯re quite reminiscent of the effigies the Worm God used to make back in Year Sixty-One, when he was still rampaging across the southern end of the continent as the Worm Mage,] Kari said, sounding slightly amused. [At the time, he¡¯d constructed colossal effigies made out of a hundred giant bugs each, raising them so high into the sky you couldn¡¯t miss it even if you tried. He did this every week or so depending on where he was, and every bug that saw his effigy knew it was territory not to be trifled with¡­ though, of course, he ended up taking them all down once he became the Worm God. Oh, Great Makers, they really were quite terrifying even for humans to look at.] She gave the little golden bug a forced smile. If it works, it works, I¡­ guess? [I suppose so.] As the town shrank behind her and she reached the furthest effigy, she started squinting around the endless sea of sand for her destination. She was looking for an unnaturally shaped dune. Soft orange firefly lanterns glowing in the dark. Maybe even a chimney poking out the top of the dune, but¡ªand this was her own fault¡ªshe hadn¡¯t paid much attention to that place back when it was at the edge of town, so she wasn¡¯t really sure what she was looking for. Regardless, she eventually spotted a circular wooden doorway at the bottom of a dune in front of her, so she slid down, trudged across the sand, and narrowed her eyes at the girl sitting on a comically small stool before the doorway. ¡°... I¡¯m Dahlia Sina of the Alshifa undertown. Insect class, assassin bug,¡± she said, bowing with two hands folded in front of her. ¡°I don¡¯t like you wearing my face, and the only thing I know about you is how much I don¡¯t know about you. Uncertainty. Frankly, I don¡¯t know if I¡¯ll ever be able to get comfortable around you as long as you¡¯re wearing my face, but¡­¡± she trailed off, raising her head to smile faintly. ¡°If I go with you, will I be able to destroy the Swarm?¡± In response, Alice tilted her head back and smirked; a horribly, horribly smug look that made Dahlia want to run forward and punch her. ¡°That¡¯s up to you. I just want you with me so I can continue trying to figure out what an assassin bug¡¯s abilities really are,¡± Alice said, baring her teeth. ¡°But I¡¯ll be the one to destroy the Swarm, so don¡¯t get your hopes up, yeah? I¡¯ll only be taking the most dangerous missions for the Hasharana, so if you don¡¯t think you can handle them¨C¡± ¡°I can,¡± Dahlia said, staring straight into Alice¡¯s eyes. ¡°Where are we going first?¡± Alice laughed and glanced around at the same time, shouting at Safi to ¡®do the thing¡¯¡ªand suddenly the dune moved, six giant legs exploding from the ground to raise both her and the tavern from the desert. Dahlia flinched, but she didn¡¯t take a step back. She¡¯d had a hunch ever since she evolved her dagger antennae, so she simply watched as the giant cicada rose to its full height: ten metres tall, thirty metres long, and clad in oil-black chitin with orange-veined wings and burning red eyes. Holes had been punched into its abdomen to serve as windows and doorways, and she immediately understood how it all worked. Cicada abdomens were mostly hollow to begin with, since they functioned as air chambers that allowed them to produce their obnoxiously loud screeches, so it was reasonable that someone could build an entire tavern inside a giant cicada. Still, it was beyond impressive, and for some reason she didn¡¯t feel particularly creeped out standing so close to a giant bug. The cicada¡¯s eyes were blank and swirly, almost as though it¡¯d been thoroughly tamed to forget which side of the war it was really supposed to be on. If Alice¡ªthe bug-slaying maniac¡ªfelt comfortable enough to live inside the giant cicada tavern, then she should have even less of a problem with it. ¡°... Well, it¡¯s no good if I¡¯m travelling around with someone in possession of an unregistered Swarmsteel System!¡± Alice shouted from five metres up, grinning cheekily down at Dahlia as she did. ¡°First things first: you¡¯re going to have to pass the Hasharana Entrance Exam legitimately and meet the Worm God to have your system registered!¡± Volume Two - Epilogue Lightning lashed through the giant fungi forest, tearing through the colossal mushroom stalks with fiery flashes of light before blinking out of existence¡ªand the three sisters ran for their lives, avoiding the cold shafts of moonlight falling through the canopy as the air began to twist around them. Terror slowly gave way to exhaustion. All of them were bleeding, breathing sharp, heavy breaths. As the endless volley of lightning bolts lashed closer and closer to their heels, Fera tasted heat, brimstone, and sulphur on her skin. Nights in the fungi forests were always dark and full of terrors, but tonight, it was a hunt the likes of which had never been brought upon her kind in a decade¡ªthe three of them, the last of their kind, had been lured into a trap of a forest under false promises of food and shelter, and for Fera¡¯s reward? She, the oldest sister, had run her younger sisters into a death sentence. Where is he? Where¡¯s he coming at us from? Vaulting over boulders, ducking under fallen logs, they ran through pitch-black darkness as Fera glanced behind them, trying to locate the shadow. He had to be camouflaged, though. She¡¯d heard he had such a mutation, but it hardly seemed necessary for him to hide himself when he was overwhelmingly powerful compared to them. Was he enjoying the hunt, then? Was he cackling by himself as he sent bolt after bolt of lightning at them, lighting up the forest for brief moments just to hurt their over-sensitive eyes? It was impossible trying to locate him. Even with all eight of her eyes, Fera could tell that he wasn¡¯t going to show himself so easily. A nauseating riot of colours warped and distorted the air in the fungi forest, weakening her vision, making it hard to endure her own senses. Just keeping her eyes open as she ran made her want to puke, but she couldn¡¯t look away¡ªnot for her sisters¡¯ sake, and not for herself. But¡­ this wasn¡¯t going to work. Somebody had to stay behind, and she was the oldest sister. Even with fear in her throat, she didn¡¯t falter. She picked her younger sisters up, ignored their snarling at her to let them go, and quickly spun webs around them to tie them up in silk cocoons. Her sisters were strong, naturally, but not as strong as her¡ªshe wrapped them up before they even realised what she was trying to do. ¡°Fera!¡± the youngest shouted, fangs snapping down at her cocoon as she tried biting her way out. ¡°It¡¯ll be troublesome if you were the one who died here! Leave me! I¡¯m the youngest, anyways! You and Apocia need to run!¡± ¡°She¡¯s right, Fera!¡± the new eldest snapped, growling up at Fera as she tried to squirm out of her cocoon with brute force. ¡°Even if the two of us must die here, at the very least, you must live! You¡¯re the strongest! Of all of us, you stand the best chance at beating them for good¨C¡± ¡°I don¡¯t,¡± Fera said, spitting webs over both their mouths to shut them up. Then she spit two more threads from her mouth, making them stick to the cocoons before she began spinning them around like bolas; she¡¯d like to throw her sisters out of the forest entirely, but close to the edge would be good enough as well. ¡°The two of you combined can defeat anyone, even me. Don¡¯t undersell yourselves. Go north and live to eat another day¡ªthat was what mother told us when she flung all three of us away from him, wasn¡¯t it?¡± Her sisters screamed at her, but their gags muffled their voices. She laughed softly. There was no time to spare; she spun, pivoted, and then chucked both of them into the sky with an overhead sling. They disappeared so quickly through the canopy that she allowed herself to sigh a breath of relief. At the speed they¡¯d been going at, they were surely going to make it out of the fungi forest with only a few broken limbs on impact. Nothing at all life threatening. Their bloodline was secured, and now, it was finally her turn to stand her ground. Years and decades of resentment poured out her skin, pinkish-purplish ooze dripping from her legs and infesting the soil around her. She let her blood boil. She turned around to face the shadow that¡¯d been hounding her family for the better part of the past three decades, and, right on cue, the endless volley of lightning bolts stopped coming¡ªher murderous glare was directionless, targetless. She stood alone in a clearing where a single shaft of moonlight fell upon her like a spotlight, while the darkness beyond the clearing was¡­ oppressive, to say the least. There was no sound. There was no movement. It was as though she¡¯d been pulled into a different world the moment she turned around, having made her resolve, and¨C An unholy wail erupted from the left, making her whirl and bare her fangs. This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. Another wail exploded from the right, tearing her attention to both sides. The soil beneath her squirmed. That strange, nauseating riot of colours started swirling again, distorting space, making her take a step back out of fright¡ªand the boy with the flower cape matched her with a single step forward, entering the clearing with a cold blue mist shrouding his pale skin. He held no weapon. This wasn¡¯t the ¡®real¡¯ him, after all. ¡°... But to think a clone of the Worm God himself would deign to hunt us down nevertheless is an honour we are undeserving of,¡± she said mockingly, bowing with four arms curled behind her back, four arms curled in front of her waist. ¡°Where is your real body? Still above that tower of yours? Am I being trained on by your railgun as we speak?¡± The Worm God¡¯s eyes were closed as he tilted his head up at the moon, deep in thought. ¡°The railgun would be wasted on a bug like you,¡± he said plainly, and it wasn¡¯t his lips that parted; the distortions in the air that was his physical ¡®voice¡¯ slammed into her eardrums, making her flinch and take another step back as he looked straight at her, tilting his head again. ¡°Lesser Great Mutant, fifth sister of the Seven Spider Spinners, you are ¡®Fera¡¯ of the Bola Brood. You and your bola spiders gave some of my warriors a bit of trouble in the northeastern front three years ago. What will you do about the three Hasharana you devoured and left to dry in the snow?¡± Fera licked her lips and grinned, eight eyes blinking in sync. ¡°I¡¯d wanted to feed them to my younger sisters, but I¡¯d been starving for the better part of the year. Couldn¡¯t help myself. Can¡¯t help you now, either¡ªI could regurgitate a few bones for you if it''s the keepsake you want?¡± ¡°Unnecessary. I¡¯m sure they¡¯d rather their bones stay an indigestible thorn in your stomach,¡± he replied instantly, shrugging nonchalantly. ¡°And? Where¡¯d you throw Thracia and Apocia off to? I hope you understand the fact that none of you will survive to see the fireworks of a new year. Year One Hundred will be the year the Seven Spider Spinners are exterminated, and with your passing, the birth of a new era. We will hunt Thracia and Apocia down, so you might as well save me the hassle.¡± She snorted as snow began falling gently around the clearing. It was the middle of summer, but the Worm God was an anomaly amongst anomalies; if he really wanted to, he could probably flip this entire forest upside-down and regrow a new one, unblemished with their footsteps, within mere minutes. It very well didn¡¯t matter what she said. The Worm God hadn''t aged a day since they last met three decades ago, and he still resembled the fourteen-year-old boy he was when he''d first made himself known to the Swarm. Only one monster would make it out of this forest alive tonight, and it most likely wasn¡¯t going to be her. Even still¡­ ¡°Are you sure you can even spare a clone for the two of them?¡± she said, sighing as she sat down cross-legged, plopping her head in her hands. ¡°They¡¯ll separate. Scatter. Of the eleven of you, ten are always indisposed, so you¡¯re the only clone who can move as you please. Which of the two will you go after even if I told you? Which settlement will you abandon in order to protect the other?¡± The Worm God angled his head to look at her, and she had to clench her jaw, resisting the urge to pounce at his face. He wasn¡¯t that far away¡ªa mere twenty metres from where she sat¡ªbut he was a boy steeped in blood and surrounded by an invisible killing pressure. She was sure she wouldn¡¯t even get a chance to stand, so the best and only thing she could do now was buy time for her sisters to run as far away as possible. But then he called her bluff with a sigh, and he turned around to exit the clearing slowly. ¡°... Why would I even have to hunt down the weakest of the Seven Spider Spinners myself?¡± he said, shaking his head as he twirled a circle in the air with his pinky. ¡°The two of them aren¡¯t like you and your older sisters. They¡¯re barely F-rank Lesser Great Mutants as they are. They are certainly not ¡®weak¡¯, but as far as my Arcana Hasharana go, my warriors will prevail¡ªthey will hunt your sisters down in my stead.¡± And, with his back turned towards her, she attempted a futile pounce at his head¡ªtrying to cross twenty metres in the blink of an eye¡ªbut her legs couldn¡¯t even move. She was frozen where she sat; the wormhole above her head, connected to a void of space, was humming and singing and pushing her down with an invisible weight. Her chitin cracked. Her limbs snapped joint by joint. Her eyes popped first, and then her eardrums blew out, her blood vibrating and bubbling inside her arteries. She felt none of the pain, but all of the vitriol. As the invisible weight crushed her flat against the ground, she managed to lift her head and snarl at the Worm God. ¡°Our queen¡­ is regaining her strength,¡± she rasped, biting and growling on her every word. ¡°You cannot defend Brightburrow alone. Men are relics on the stage of fate, and fate has made our queen the strongest. She will not falter again. You may have staved off the inevitable for three decades, but soon, our Great Unmaker will return and tear down your walls¨C¡± ¡°If fate wanted your queen to be the strongest, it wouldn¡¯t have made me,¡± the Worm God said idly, his cape of a hundred diamond flowers clinking as he trudged away. ¡°Farewell, Fera. All seven of you will be reunited soon enough.¡± Fera cursed the boy with her dying breaths as the humming in her ears grew louder and louder, turning into a howling torrent, and then¨C A block of ice fell through the wormhole over her head, crushing her flat against the ground. New Story Announcement The fourth story in the Brightburrow series has just launched! The cover, synopsis, and link to Thousand-Tongue Mage is below! For those of you interested, the story is set thirty-nine years before the events of The Unmaker, and one year after the events of [Worm] Mage. I consider it the direct sequel to [Worm] Mage since it references events that happened in the story, but it''s still a completely standalone story! Go check it out if you''re interested! You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. Chapter 62 - Emparatoria [The ¡®Empress Cicada¡¯ is the largest cicada species in the entire world, and individuals with a head-body length of twenty metres and up are typically captured and tamed by the Tamera to use as giant caravan-pulling bugs. Because their abdomens are usually hollow, rooms and structures can be built within them as a sort of mobile fortress, which can also double as an efficient rain shelter given cicada wings are typically water-repelling, so the structure inside its abdomen can remain completely dry as opposed to other mobile fortresses where the structure is built above the carapace of the giant bug¨C] I¡¯m gonna hurl, Kari. [Don¡¯t do it in the tavern. Poke your head out the window.] So Dahlia did as Kari instructed, leaning out the circular wooden frame as she dry heaved, trying her best to hold her stomach. It wasn¡¯t easy, after all, sitting by the window seat of a tavern that just so happened to be ten metres above ground¡­ and swaying like a shoddy ship on a stormy sea. Looking inwards, she was met with a brilliantly cosy sight: warm wooden walls and floorboards, little stools and round tables scattered throughout, and multi-coloured plush cushions and potted plants to break up the even earthly colours of the tavern. Multiple open doors behind the bartender¡¯s counter led into Safi¡¯s kitchen, the two bedrooms upstairs, and the single washroom in the back. Looking outside the windows, though, she was met with an endless desert¡ªa sea of steaming, wavy golden sand¡ªand it absolutely didn¡¯t help that the giant cicada they were currently riding in was sprinting at thirty kilometres an hour like it was nobody¡¯s business. Suffice it to say, it was a bumpy ride. It¡¯d been a bumpy ride the entire past week she¡¯d been travelling across the desert. Stools and tables slid along the seams between the floorboards, rearranging themselves like levers following zigzaggy slits. The cushions were flying everywhere. The potted plants were, thankfully, bolted into the ground, but the firefly lanterns overhead were swinging and banging into each other and there was also an Arcana Hasharana laughing her ass off with a glass of juice in her hands¡ªSafi was just humming as he prepared lunch behind the bartender¡¯s counter, and Alice was comfortably seated across Dahlia¡¯s window table, both of them completely used to the tavern shaking like a permanent earthquake. I¡¯m gonna die before we even get out of this desert, Kari. [You¡¯ll be fine.] I can¡¯t deal with this, Kariiii. [You¡¯ll be fine¨C] ¡°You¡¯ll be fine,¡± Alice said, laughing as she threw a small cushion across the table to whack Dahlia in the face. ¡°Emparatoria¡¯s a good cicada. Uncle bought it, like, five years ago from the Tamera, and it hasn¡¯t attacked anyone even once. It requires little to no sustenance, just a few hours of rest every night, and it can burrow underground to go into dormancy whenever we need to settle down somewhere. If we want it to, it can even fall asleep and not move a muscle for upwards of an entire year!¡± ¡°Really¡­ impressive,¡± she mumbled, flinging the cushion away as she slammed all four hands on the table in front of her, leaning forward and trying to stabilise herself. Alice did the same, humming cheerily, and their faces were so close to each other Dahlia thought about headbutting the girl. Just for fun. ¡°Can¡¯t you tell¡­ ¡®Emparatoria¡¯... to walk a bit slower, then? Are we in a rush? To where?¡± ¡°To the exam! It¡¯s in a month or so, and if you don¡¯t show up in time, the proctors won¡¯t let you join the first stage halfway through!¡± Dahlia wasn¡¯t thinking that far ahead, of course. She¡¯d like to just survive the next ten minutes, but it didn¡¯t seem like that was going to be easy, either¡ªher dagger antennae perked as her gut told her to stick her head out the window, so that she did, getting a breath of sandy air while she squinted at the distant storm they were going to run into. ¡°... Alice.¡± ¡°Yeah?¡± ¡°There¡¯s a sandstorm in front of us.¡± ¡°That¡¯s normal. The Sharaji Desert is mostly calm on the inside, but there¡¯s always a nasty sandstorm blowing somewhere along the borders of the desert,¡± Alice said, shrugging nonchalantly as she gulped down the rest of her juice. ¡°Getting around the desert is easy. Getting in or out the desert is gonna be rocky. No way around it, though, so just don¡¯t open your mouth.¡± ¡°You¡¯re free to put on your seatbelt if you want,¡± Safi called out from behind the counter, pointing at a belt underneath her stool. ¡°Just don¡¯t open your mouth. Seriously. We both ate mouthfuls of sand when we rode into the desert two months ago, and let me tell you, sand is quite unkind on your palate. You¡¯ll be tasting sand on everything you eat for the next three days.¡± ¡°Yep. But there¡¯s just no way around it. Even if I make silk traps to board up the doors and windows, sand¡¯s still gonna find its way in.¡± ¡°Mhm. No way around it. It¡¯s a violent but small storm, anyways. We¡¯ll be in and out of it in three minutes.¡± Dahlia scowled as the uncle and niece combo nodded proudly, completely indifferent to the fact that the sandstorm was churning and roaring and literally annihilating the entire horizon of sand just a few hundred metres in front of them. Even if Emparatoria could survive the storm and emerge through the other side unharmed, the fact that they weren¡¯t even bothering to close the front door and board up the windows was making her really, really anxious¡ªthey¡¯d live alright, but then they¡¯d have to spend the entire rest of the day shovelling hot and sticky sand out of the tavern. ¡­ Nah. How many points do I have again, Kari?
[// STATUS] [Name: Dahlia Sina] [Class: Assassin Bug] [BloodVolume: 4.8/4.8 (100%), Strain: 960/1452 (66%)] [Unallocated Points: 165] [// BASIC ATTRIBUTES] [Strength: 7 (+8), Speed: 8 (+2), Dexterity: 8 (+5), Toughness: 5 (+7), Perceptivity: 5 (+2), Strain: 1352] [// MUTATION TREE] [T1 Core Mutation | Nymphal Metamorphosis] {T1 Branch Mutation | Recollection} [T2 Core Mutations | Base Chitin Development | Dagger Antennae] {T2 Branch Mutations | ??? | ???} [T3 Core Mutations | Stylet Claws | Stridulating Prosternum | Segmented Setae] 150P The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. {T3 Branch Mutations | ??? | ??? | ???} [// UNIQUE SWARMSTEEL LIST] [2x Assassin Bug Claw Gauntlets (Quality = C)(Str +6/12)(Dex +5/5)(Tou + 2/5)(Strain +395)] [2x Desert Locust Greaves (Quality = D)(Spd +2/2)(Tou +3/4)(Strain +216)] [4x Firefly Bracers (Quality = C)(Str +2/12)(Tou +2/4)(Strain +223)] [Butterfly Goggles (Quality = E)(Per +2/2)(Tou +0/1)(Strain +66)]
¡­ You know, my status screen is getting harder and harder to read. [Such is life.] Dahlia clicked her tongue irritably as she rose from her stool, trying not to fall as she stumbled to the centre of the tavern like a drunk. [Considering Safi has butchered Madamaron and its brood of antlion nymphs¡ªthe parts he could butcher, anyways¡ªyou¡¯ve been steadily gaining fifteen points a day for the past eleven days, which is already a bit more than you should be consuming,] Kari muttered. [A reminder that ten points a day is the healthy limit. Fifteen is already pushing it. Eat any more than that and you¡¯ll eventually succumb to the effects of ¡®point poisoning¡¯, which includes headaches, stomach aches, muscle fatigue, bone fatigue¨C] ¨Cokay, okay, I won¡¯t go more than fifteen a day¨C [¨Cslow and steady wins the race,] Kari finished. [With Madamaron and the antlion nymphs properly stored and preserved in the kitchen, you can easily gain fifteen points a day every single day for at least eight months. You don¡¯t have to rush. For the time being, you have secured a steady supply of easily digestible insect flesh for your daily meals, and that¡¯s the biggest hurdle to progression already crossed.] ¡­ The biggest hurdle? she thought, kneeling and placing all four palms flat on the floor as she did. [You may think ten points a day is easy to come by, but the unfortunate truth is, even in the Swarmsteel Fronts where the battles against the Swarm are the fiercest and tens of thousands of giant bugs die every day, most soldiers won¡¯t be able to gain ten points a day,] Kari said plainly. [Generally speaking, insect flesh requires intense processing to make edible. Most soldiers don¡¯t eat it raw on a consistent basis. It requires tenderising to make it digestible, neutralisation to remove the toxic components, and cooking to make it slightly delectable. This means, on the battlefield, that most common soldiers don¡¯t get the luxury of eating ¡®gourmet¡¯ insect flesh. They settle for normal human food instead.] She glanced over at Safi, her eyes twinkling with amusement. He must be a really good chef, then. [He¡¯s an abnormally incredible chef. To be able to prepare exactly fifteen points¡¯ worth of insect flesh for both you and Alice every single day in palatable, savoury-looking dishes is no easy feat at all,] Kari agreed. [I¡­ don¡¯t know who he is, actually. My records do not speak of a man who travels with ¡®The Hangman¡¯ on her bug-slaying missions, and whenever I try to look deeper, I get a {REDACTED} warning telling me to stop prying. I imagine he is no normal human being¡ªdo pay close attention to him for me, will you?] [Alice is somewhat predictable in her unpredictability, but I cannot tell what that man is thinking at all.] [He could be dangerous.] ¡­ So she let out a long, heavy sigh, closing her eyes as she focused on the tingly sensation in her arms. They are dangerous, Kari. They¡¯re trying to run Emparatoria into a sandstorm without even boarding up the doors and windows. So deposit all of my points into strain limit.
[Strain: 1352 ¡ú 1517] [Unallocated Points: 165 ¡ú 0]
[Indeed, you should prioritise raising your strain limit to two thousand before doing anything else,] Kari advised, nodding on her shoulder as she inhaled coolly, trying to focus. [Not only because your gradually growing list of Swarmsteel is straining you more and more, but also because of your tier one branch mutation.] [¡®Recollection¡¯.] [A unique ability of the assassin bug that allows you to draw on the abilities of Mutants you have devoured.] Then, she pried her eyelids wide open and exhaled¡ªand her palms shook the tavern, making the tails of her cloak beat like wings the moment Emparatoria waded into the sandstorm. The desert outside the tavern became a dark, blurry mess of wind and sand grains. Window shutters slammed closed and open, floorboards groaning and lanterns threatening to snap off their chains. Alice had the gall to grab another glass of juice from Safi the moment the storm hit, so the uncle and niece combo immediately screamed as clouds of sand smashed them off their feet, ragdolling them around the tavern. For Dahlia¡¯s part, though, her entire body was vibrating so fast it formed an ultra tiny ¡®bubble¡¯ of wind around her, protecting her from the sand and any small shrapnel flying around the tavern. [... So far, you have eaten the firefly, which allows you to summon lightning, and bits and pieces of Madamaron, which allows you to vibrate your body like an antlion nymph can to make sandpits,] Kari remarked as her teeth chittered, her skin and flesh feeling like they were going to slide off her bones for how violently she was vibrating in place. [Using ¡®recollection¡¯ burns through your stamina, though, so it¡¯s a wise idea to increase your strain limit¡­ especially if you¡¯re going to be using your assimilated abilities in stupid ways like this.] Can you not¡­ talk to me¡­ while I¡¯m¡­ trying to¨C [¡®Recollection¡¯ is a powerful ability, Dahlia. You must master it as soon as possible. Even I¡¯ve got no idea how this ability truly functions, considering no human has ever had the assassin bug class while possessing an Altered Swarmsteel System where the Archive has been combined with the Bloodline¨C] I eat¡­ Mutants, she thought, gritting her teeth as she tried to hold on for another two and a half minutes. I¡­ take their abilities¡­ and the strength of their abilities¡­ is based on how much of their flesh¡­ I get to eat. Isn¡¯t that¡­ all there is¡­ to it? A pause. She wished the pause would last forever, but then Kari reappeared on the bridge on her nose to stare straight into her eyes. [Even I don¡¯t know for sure, and I¡¯m both the bug-slayers¡¯ Archive and the assassin bug Bloodline.] [You may not yet understand how terrifyingly powerful this assimilation ability is, and that is only because you have not seen the strength of the Mutants beyond the Sharaji Desert.] ¡­ One minute. Two minutes. Three minutes. For a few more moments, she wondered if they were ever going to pass through the storm or if Safi had just said three minutes to calm her down, but then the howling winds died as quickly they¡¯d come to live¡ªand she stopped tensing her muscles, letting herself gasp for breath as furniture, sand, and Alice fell from the ceiling, Emparatoria resuming a leisurely walking pace across the desert. While Alice groaned and Safi stood up behind the counter calmly, she clawed to her feet and looked around. Bluntly speaking, she couldn¡¯t even see a tavern anymore. Everywhere was just sand. She did see the window seat, though, so she trudged over and plopped herself down after swiping the mounds of sand off the furniture, sighing aloud. While Emparatoria continued marching across the endless sea of gold outside, Alice eventually joined her on the other side of the table, sand in her hair and wings and slipping between the seams of her silk-woven face¡ªDahlia¡¯s face, of course. She¡¯d yet to change to a different mask, and at this point, Dahlia didn¡¯t even know if she wanted to see a different Alice anymore. People would probably mistake them for twins, but¡­ well. That was a problem she¡¯d just have to deal with once they reached the exam venue. ¡°You really can use the abilities of the bugs you eat, huh?¡± Alice grinned, sputtering clouds of sand as she leaned on the table, plopping her chin in her hands. ¡°I¡¯m not gonna let you run from me until I figure out just what, exactly, an ¡®assassin bug¡¯ is. Once I figure out how to replicate your ¡®weapons¡¯ with my silk, I¡¯ll let you leave, so do show me all of your interesting abilities, okay?¡± She coughed the clouds of sand back in Alice¡¯s face, scowling mightily. ¡°I¡¯m not running away. Not¡­ anymore.¡± Alice¡¯s grin grew even wider. ¡°Good! I won¡¯t let you, anyways! I¡¯ll tie you up and stuff you in a barrel before I let you¨C¡± ¡°Where¡¯s the Hasharana Entrance Exam venue, anyways?¡± Kari and Alice pointed out the window at the exact same time, and her gaze followed their fingers. She squinted the moment she noticed a faint silhouette on the far horizon. From afar, it looked like a desert city built under a gargantuan ribcage. ¡°The City of Feasts!¡± Alice said cheerily. ¡°We can be there by tomorrow morning, or we can be there by noon, so¡­ Emparatoria! Go full speed! ¡­ And as the giant cicada screeched in response to its master¡¯s command, Dahlia simply sighed again. I¡¯m gonna hurl, Kari. [Don¡¯t do it in the tavern. Poke your head out the window.] Chapter 63 - The City of Feasts While Safi shovelled all the sand outside the tavern, Emparatoria continued quickly towards the City of Feasts in the distance. Now that Dahlia was sitting cross-legged up on the giant cicada¡¯s back and not looking out a dinghy window, she realised two things: the city wasn¡¯t built under a giant ribcage, and it was also much, much larger than she¡¯d thought. The City of Feasts was a chaotic sprawl of ramshackle buildings and makeshift towers built from scrap, stone, and golden wood. What she thought were ribs earlier were, instead, eight colossal spider legs curling upwards and looming over the giant city like a ribcage, rust-coloured and weathered by the desert sands. She could already taste the dryness and the grit, like old metal on her tongue. The heat, too¡ªthere was no escaping it. The sun burned down without any clouds in the azure sky, and more flares of light reflected from the scrap and glass scattered across the city, blinding her eyes. She couldn¡¯t even look at the city properly, so she looked at the spider legs instead, towering a menacing hundred metres over the desert city like they¡¯d always been a permanent fixture¡­ except that couldn¡¯t possibly be the case¨C ¡°Ow!¡± Alice yelped, clapping her hands over her ears and making Dahlia jump in fright; the two of them had been kicked out of the tavern to sit above Emparatoria instead, but Dahlia had spent the past few hours trying not to hurl, so they hadn¡¯t really talked. More accurately, they hadn¡¯t really had a conversation¡ªAlice rambling about how much she hated the sand for three hours straight didn¡¯t count as conversation¡ªbut so close to the City of Feasts now, Dahlia supposed she had lots she wanted to say about the spider legs. Dahlia had lots she wanted to ask, too, but right now¡­ ¡°What¡¯s¡­ up?¡± she asked, worry creasing her brows as Alice rubbed her own ears, grimacing quietly. ¡°Nothing,¡± Alice mumbled, head lolling left and right. ¡°It¡¯s just¡­ it¡¯s been a while since I¡¯ve been near a worm effigy, so I¡¯m just now receiving a bunch of notifications I should¡¯ve received three months ago.¡± ¡°Notifications?¡± Alice tapped her own nape. ¡°The Altered Swarmsteel System. Just because I have a registered system doesn¡¯t mean I get constantly updating information everywhere on the continent. For the most part, we Hasharana have established ¡®worm effigies¡¯ in most corners of the continent¡ªthey¡¯re like signal beacons where information can be deposited and sent to every other Hasharana in the vicinity¡ªbut there are still a few places where effigies are pretty much nonexistent. The entire Sharaji Desert has¡­ like, one effigy. And it¡¯s right inside the City of Feasts.¡± Dahlia blinked. ¡°What¡­ uh, what does a registered Altered Swarmsteel System do again? Why do I have to take the exam to get it registered?¡± ¡°... Well, for starters, you get access to a ton of annoying features you won¡¯t really use,¡± Alice said, sighing as she kicked back on the cicada carapace and folded her arms under her head, closing her eyes. ¡°The main difference between a normal Swarmsteel System and an Altered Swarmsteel System is the presence of the ¡®Archive¡¯, which is¡­ you know. The artificial intelligence that talks to you. Haven¡¯t you noticed, though, that your Archive is pretty much useless when it comes to anything outside of hunting bugs?¡± ¡°Uh¡­ no?¡± Dahlia said, tilting her head quizzically. ¡°Kari¡¯s really helpful. I like Kari.¡± [Aw. Thank you¨C] ¡°That¡¯s because you haven¡¯t been to a big city where there¡¯s lots to do other than wake up, pick reeds, work in a forge, and then go to sleep,¡± Alice mumbled, raising a single finger to shush her. ¡°Listen: the Archive does exactly what it¡¯s named after. It¡¯s just a glorified librarian that retrieves information from a database, and that database needs to be updated manually all the time. Who manages the database, hm? Who do you think updates all the information every single hour of the day?¡± ¡°The Worm God?¡± Alice flicked a silk band at her forehead, making her wince. ¡°Stupid. We do. The Altered Swarmsteel System is constantly collecting environmental information from our surroundings¡ªthe temperature, the wind speed, the lay of the land¡ªand whenever we approach a worm effigy, all of that information is instantly deposited into the effigy, then sent out as a signal to every other Altered Swarmsteel System in the area. Since there are registered Hasharana and worm effigies in most parts of the continent, we basically have constant access to all sorts of live information all across the continent.¡± Dahlia glanced at the little golden bug on her shoulder, blinking pointedly. She¡¯s not lying, right? [No.] So you¡­ you really are a really, really, really advanced Swarmsteel. [Well, yes. I told you as much back when we first met in Alshifa¨C] ¡°This ¡®live information¡¯ we can access near worm effigies are manifold, including, but not limited to: weather forecasts, navigation data, bug bounties, distress signals, restaurant suggestions, pathfinding suggestions, private messages left by another Hasharana, private complaints left by another Hasharana who you stole a bounty kill from, and death threats left by another Hasharana who you stole a bounty kill from even though they were the one who answered the distress signal first,¡± Alice rambled, raising eight more fingers and shushing Dahlia with all of them, ¡°and I¡¯m an Arcana Hasharana, so I just got about a hundred notifications the moment I entered the range of the worm effigy. I keep telling my Archive to not slam my head with every message all at once, but oh well. I¡¯ll read them later.¡± If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. Kari dipped its head as though to sigh, and Dahlia looked at Alice worriedly. ¡°Shouldn¡¯t you¡­ uh, read them now? Some of them are probably important messages, right? What if people need you to kill something?¡± ¡°Eh. There¡¯s always people who need someone else to kill something for them. I only have four arms and two legs¡ªcan¡¯t help everyone, can I?¡± she replied, shrugging nonchalantly as she glanced to the side, reading an invisible status screen. ¡°Besides, I¡¯m an Arcana Hasharana. I don¡¯t get a lot of low-rank missions telling me to hunt down anything less than an A-rank Mutant. Madamaron was a bit different, since it was an unknown-rank Mutant all the way out in an area without a worm effigy, so the risk was too high for any normal Hasharana to accept the mission¡­ but¡­¡± ¡°...¡± Alice trailed off, and the ice in her crimson eyes could¡¯ve frozen boiling water. Dahlia fidgeted with her claws in her laps, tilting her head again. ¡°What¡¯s up? What are you reading?¡± ¡°... Nothing,¡± Alice replied in the most suspicious ¡®something¡¯ voice, ¡°it¡¯s nothing you have to worry about, anyways, as an exam taker. Just focus on eating your ten points a day for the next month and get as strong as you can. There¡¯s only one Hasharana Entrance Exam every year, and the venue is different every time, so if next year¡¯s exam is all the way in the north, I can¡¯t be bothered to drag you there.¡± Pursing her lips, Dahlia dropped the topic of the suspicious message and looked back out at the city, squinting slightly. The flare was still blinding, but she was slowly getting used to the light. ¡°That¡¯s an entire city built over a giant spider, huh?¡± she muttered. ¡°Is it¡­ safe? Aren¡¯t loads of bugs attracted to other bug carcasses? Why build the city over something that massive?¡± ¡°Huh? No, it¡¯s alright,¡± Alice said plainly. ¡°Thirty or so years ago, the Magician and the Star took down the Lesser Great Mutant known as ¡®Raposa¡¯, eldest sister of the Seven Spider Spinners, right at the edge of the Sharaji Desert. Since Raposa was too hard to remove¡ªand its carcass being here meant lots of oases and vegetation were allowed to flourish¡ªpeople just started living over the buried carcass while using its curled-up legs as shade. There are tons of cities and towns out there built around giant bug carcasses. The City of Feasts is just a particularly scrappy one.¡± ¡°But wouldn¡¯t lots of bugs be attracted to the giant spider? Like how the bugs we killed in Alshifa strengthened Madamaron and its brood?¡± ¡°Well, the Hasharana have preventive measures to protect the city.¡± Both of Alice¡¯s antennae split apart, pointing towards opposite ends of the city, and Dahlia¡¯s gaze followed. There certainly were a lot of scrap metal watchtowers erected here and there to watch for any invading bugs, but more interestingly, there were also a bunch of tiny people marching in long lines around the city, weaving and winding across the golden dunes. Some of them were actually quite close as Emparatoria drew closer and closer to the city, so Dahlia sat up a little to peer out at them¡ªthey were all garbed from head to toe in thick bronze layers, glassy wings jutting out their backs, and playing all sorts of strange-looking instruments she¡¯d never seen before. Some were flutes, others were trumpets, and others were fusions between drums and lutes and triangles¡­ there had to be thousands of them just scattered across the desert surrounding the desert, and all of them were playing their own sharp, harsh melody, none in sync with each other. As Emparatoria passed by one such line, Dahlia couldn¡¯t help but stare at one of the flute-wielding musicians in the lead; the musician glanced back, their pair of glowing red eyes piercing her soul and making her shiver. ¡°... The Hasharana isn¡¯t the only wandering bug-slaying organisation in the world, you know?¡± Alice sighed, still laying on her back with her arms folded under her head. ¡°We¡¯re the most famous and the most powerful, but the Cicada Musicians of the Long March are pretty powerful, too. We have a partnership with them: the Hasharana handles most bug-slaying missions, while the Long March takes up defence for most human settlements. They all have the same cicada system class, I hear. When there¡¯s so many of them gathered in one place, playing those shrill songs all day long, even a horde of Mutants would think twice before trying to attack.¡± Dahlia was at the edge of her seat, still peering out at the Cicada Musicians. ¡°Are there usually so many of them?¡± she asked. ¡°And if there are so many of them¡­ why weren¡¯t there any in the Sharaji Oasis Town? They could¡¯ve used¨C¡± ¡°Well, this is a special occasion. All things considered, the Long March is spread pretty thin across the continent. There¡¯s only so many here because the Worm God asked them to be on standby for the exam, so now that I¡¯ve reported the Oasis Town needs protection, I imagine they¡¯ll send a few to be permanently stationed around the Oasis Town once the exam is over,¡± Alice said, raising a few more fingers. ¡°By the way, the Long March isn¡¯t the only organisation invited to the city. Remember what I said a long time ago about this exam?¡± ¡°Uh¡­ no?¡± ¡°People from all across the continent are always raring to register in the annual exam,¡± she said, opening a single eye as she grinned at Dahlia. ¡°Being a Hasharana is a huge honour, after all! There¡¯s no doubt about it! You¡¯ll bump into tons of people from the Attini Empire Front, the Rampaging Hinterland Front, the Hellfire Caldere Front, the Deepwater Legion Front, and even people who just want to give the exam a try with their own self-modified insect system classes¡ªconsidering an average of a thousand people register every year, it¡¯s gonna be fun watching you guys beat each other up from the spectator stands!¡± Dahlia blanked out. It¡¯d sounded like someone else¡¯s problem three months ago, back when Alice first told her about the exam that people had to pass to obtain a legitimate Altered Swarmsteel System, but now¡­ ¡°... Actually,¡± she asked, raising a meek, hesitant hand. ¡°What am I¡­ um, what are participants supposed to do in the exam?¡± ¡°So, there are always three stages in the exam,¡± Alice said cheerily, ¡°and the first stage is almost guaranteed to be a team-based hunting exam, where ninety percent of participants die within the first week!¡± Chapter 64 - Tavern Emparatoria Just like Alshifa and the Sharaji Oasis Towns, there were no walls or border gates to stop people from just walking into the City of Feasts. Alice held the reins and simply marched Emparatoria through the outer edges of the city, where sunlight gleamed off the sparse few buildings¡ªthey were all scrap metal roofs patched together with mismatched cloths, stones, and whatever else could be scavenged from the desert. Small oases broke up the sandy sprawl here and there, and narrow rivers with palm trees cut deeper into the city like spider webs. The streets next to those rivers and buildings weren¡¯t normal-sized either. The lanes were broad, allowing three giant bugs to walk side-by-side without bumping wings and legs, and there were tons of other people riding giant bugs. As they rode in, Dahlia fidgeted with her claws and sat closely behind Alice on Emparatoria¡¯s head. The noise was already deafening. There were hundreds upon thousands of people here, all as diverse as the bugs they were riding: merchants clad in loose, flowing robes with arms clad in beetle chitin steered three-metre-class scarab beetles through the crowd, calling out to passersby as they haggled their wares. Men with long, jagged praying mantis arms marched in lines, their scythe-arms locked together as they chanted loud along the street. Winged couriers and children zipped between rooftops everywhere, letters and scrolls tucked in their arms as streetside vendors with ant mandibles clicked irritably at them to stop dropping stuff onto the stalls. And she¡¯d just barely entered the city. The deeper they rode in, the thicker the air with the smell of sweat, incense, and the tang of rustic metal. When she looked behind her, she could only see a long line of a dozen giant bugs meandering behind them. When she looked around, the scrap buildings became taller and wider and reflected hotter sunlight. When she looked below, the crowd had swelled to an insane amount, and she¡¯d no idea how people were just casually walking and weaving between the giant bug legs in order to cross the street. Locust-legged traders pulled their carts through without any trouble. Groups of vagrants with blank dragonfly eyes would stand on one side of the street without moving for a good second, and then in the next, they¡¯d have vanished and reappeared on the other side of the street like they had super speed. Closer and closer to the heart of the city, the caravaneers riding the giant bugs in front of and behind Emparatoria started standing and dancing and singing to hawk their wares. The woman riding the moth with vibrant wings in front of Alice peddled vials of glowing potions to the crowd under her, delivering her vials and fishing up baskets of coins with a long stick. Riding the giant scorpion behind Alice, a group of miners with thick, burrowing beetle claws for arms tossed boxes of ore down to the crowd, and everyone only had a few seconds to shout what they wanted and pay their fees before they¡¯d inevitably be swept away by the flow of the crowd. Unsurprisingly, people started gathering under Emparatoria, too, so Dahlia tugged her scarf up to cover her mouth as more and more people stared at her. ¡°... Not to worry about the giant bugs,¡± Alice said, waving off the crowd as she smirked back at Dahlia. ¡°Most travellers on the continent ride or use giant bugs as caravan-pulling beasts, and by Hasharana Law, only giant bugs tamed and certified by the Tamera can be used¡ªyou can tell if a giant bug is tamed or not if they have the Tamera¡¯s signature blank, swirly eyes. You also get certification documents and stamps and stuff when you buy a giant bug, so most cities and boroughs don¡¯t actually shoot giant bugs on sight. Some rides can be very expensive to reimburse.¡± Dahlia chewed her lips as she looked back at the giant scorpion; she couldn¡¯t help but remember the one she¡¯d seen back in Alshifa, though she¡¯d not seen it alive even back then. ¡°Emparatoria is pretty¡­ big, isn¡¯t it?¡± she mumbled. ¡°The other giant bugs are all¡­ um, about three metres tall, ten metres long. But yours is ten metres tall and thirty metres long. Massive. We¡¯re kinda¡­ jamming the traffic¨C¡± ¡°Special Arcana Hasharana privileges. You can¡¯t buy a ten-metre-class giant bug unless you have a good reason for it, so I reckon Emparatoria¡¯s actually one of the bigger rides in this entire city right now!¡± Alice said, grinning as she patted the giant cicada¡¯s head. ¡°Who cares about jamming the traffic, anyways? We¡¯re helping out the caravaneers behind us! We move slower, so they move slower, so they get more time to sell their stuff to the crowd¡ªthey should be paying me for helping them empty their wares!¡± Somehow, Dahlia didn¡¯t get the feeling that the caravaneers behind them were all too grateful about how slow they were moving along the main street. This scrappy, ramshackle part of the city probably wasn¡¯t where they wanted to do their business¡ªthe district with the taller and slightly more elegant buildings in the distance was probably where the richer men lived. She knew from experience that selling her trinkets in Alshifa¡¯s Bazaar was far more profitable than just setting up a stall and selling them anywhere; provided her goods were actually desirable, the profits could be the difference between a bowl of unsalted salat and plates of warm rice with vegetables for dinner. So, she was a bit relieved for the caravaneers behind them when Alice suddenly swerved Emparatoria off the main street, letting the traffic behind them catch up as they marched down a lonelier, shadier avenue. They were still very much in the outer edges of the city¡ªnowhere near the denser city centre¡ªbut the side avenues between the main streets gave her a few shivers. Obviously, there were less people doing business here, but the stalls and stores that did line the narrower street sold stranger things: street cook stirred boiling pots filled with live, writhing bugs, and other stalls offered bloody and butchered insect parts laid out on rough cloths, glistening with oils and fluids. Further down the street, hooded ladies with dazzling, bulbous moth eyes brewed perfumes with even more live insects, tossing spiders and beetles into bubbling cauldrons as they hummed entrancing melodies, none in sync. Even further down the street, men with cricket arms sharpened blades made of jagged chitin, dousing swords in buckets of acid and selling tools for less than savoury purposes. More than a few of those men gave Alice and Dahlia quiet glares as they marched Emparatoria along, but then, as suddenly as Alice had swerved the giant cicada down the street, she swerved Emparatoria again into a thirty-metre-long gap between two buildings¡ªand with a single clap, the giant cicada sat down. By the second clap, it''d dug its legs halfway into the ground, burying itself in the sand. This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it. By the third clap, Enparatoria had nestled itself between two scrap buildings, and old Safi walked out the front door with two signs in hand. One of those he stabbed into the ground right outside the door, and the other one was massive, ten metres long and made out of thick scrap metal; he tossed it up at Alice, who flicked a handful of threads around it before sticking it onto the side of Enparatoria, letting it dangle over the front door. With that, Alice shoved Dahlia off the top of the giant cicada, making her flail and barely stick the landing as the Hasharana jumped off as well. ¡°Tavern Emparatoria is back and open for business!¡± Alice bellowed mid-air, throwing her voice down the street left and right before landing next to Dahlia, kicking up a puff of sand. ¡°First twenty-two orders are free-of-charge, and the next hundred orders after that are twenty percent off! Meals are first come, first serve! Come get your filling of uncle''s signature grilled dishes again!¡± And before Dahlia could even ask what they were doing here, Safi trudged back into the tavern while Alice pulled out two large stacks of hand-written posters from her cloak. Dahlia blinked. To this day, she had no idea just how, exactly, Alice was capable of hiding so much peculiar miscellanea inside her cloak¨C ¡°You take this one, and I''ll take this one!¡± Alice chirped, shoving one of the stacks into her arms as she was shooed to face the other side of the street. ¡°Hand these out to anyone who seems even remotely interested, yeah? Just force them onto people! Nobody¡¯s gonna resist gifts from cute girls like us!¡± Dahlia''s lips were half-parted when her antennae tingled, and she turned to see dozens of muscled, battle-scarred, scorpion-armed men strutting towards her. More men followed closely behind them: some were human-faced and carrying giant saifs sheathed on their belts, while others had half their faces consumed by ant heads, mantis heads, or some variety of insect that made them look terrifying as all hell¡ªand Dahlia couldn¡¯t help but shiver again, clutching her stack of posters with all four hands as the first men stopped in front of her. She wasn¡¯t blocking the street or anything; they were looking down on her specifically, and for her part, she had no idea what they wanted from her. Kari, Kari, Kari¨C [¨Cjust calm down¨C] ¨Care they going to drag me off to some back alley and rip me to shreds and put me in one of those bubbling pots¨C The man standing right in front of her bent down suddenly, scorpion pincers on his hips as he scowled at her. ¡°... Oy, Safi!¡± he snapped in Alshifa Tongue, standing up straight and glaring into the tavern as he patted Dahlia¡¯s head. ¡°What¡¯s with this, huh? You fuck off for an entire year and now you¡¯ve brought another stray home, and it¡¯s a young, pretty one at that? You aren¡¯t helping yourself with the crimp accusations, you know?¡± The men behind him laughed as they walked past Dahlia, most of them shooting toothy grins at her while they filed into the tavern one-by-one. Dahlia blinked again as more and more people stopped in front of her to take a few posters off her hands. ¡°Oh, Safi really has brought another stray back,¡± said one of the street cooks as she walked past, winking at Dahlia. ¡°You really are a cute one. Don¡¯t stray too far away from Eighth Mantid Street, you hear? I know men who¡¯d just gobble you up the moment you step into their gland-marked territory.¡± ¡°At least she looks older than when little Alice was first brought here,¡± muttered one of the weapon merchants with cricket arms as he plucked a poster from her, laughing under his breath. ¡°Me and the boys were about ready to give Safi a thrashing when he said he was going to take a stray eight-year-old girl under his wing back then. At least she looks¡­ how old are you, lass? Twelve? Thirteen? You look thirteen.¡± ¡°Hush, stone grinder. Even a ladybug hides her spots when asked to count them. How could you just ask the little lady for her age?¡± chastised one of the hooded perfumers as she slapped the merchant on the back of his head, shoving him into the tavern. ¡°Pay these brutes no mind, little lady. You¡¯re doing wonderful.¡± ¡°Just don¡¯t let old Safi work you to the bone!¡± ¡°Ask him for a salary! If you don¡¯t, he won¡¯t spare even a single silver for you!¡± ¡°Hey, Safi! I¡¯m here for our rematch! You said you¡¯d be back four months ago, you piece of shit¨C¡± ¡°What about me?¡± Alice complained aloud, flinging rolled-up posters at the crowd forming around the tavern as she pouted at Dahlia. ¡°I¡¯m back too, you know? I¡¯m here! It¡¯s me! I¡¯ve grown, too!¡± The perfumers immediately slid past Dahlia to wrap Alice in a massive group hug, offering their apologies for not slathering her with attention earlier, and Alice started chuckling creepily¡ªDahlia could feel the Hasharana¡¯s ¡®I¡¯m more popular than you¡¯ gaze on her back even as she whirled away, facing the crowd once again with as confident a smile as she could muster. ¡°I¡¯m¡­ Dahlia Sina of the Alshifa Undertown!¡± she said aloud, bowing slightly as she held out her stack of posters. ¡°I¡¯m here to take the¡­ uh, the Hasharana Entrance Exam! In one month! So I think I¡¯ll be staying¡­ in this tavern¡­ with you all?¡± The crowd responded with a cheer as they continued shuffling into the tavern, and between her and Alice, there must be at least fifty people inside¡ªignoring the logistics of whether or not Safi could feed all of them by himself, she¡¯d no idea how so many people could even fit inside without overflowing out the front door. ¡­ Dahlia backed up against Alice and mumbled under her breath. ¡°What are we doing here, exactly?¡± Alice glanced back with a mischievous grin, slapping another man¡¯s face with a poster as she did. ¡°Running Tavern Emparatoria, of course. This spot here in Eighth Mantid Street is Emparatoria¡¯s dedicated caravan bay, so whenever we stop by here between bug-slaying missions, we just settle down and run the tavern for extra income. Uncle¡¯s wallet has holes in them from buying fresh and exotic ingredients for our daily meals all the time, you know? We need the silvers!¡± ¡°So¡­ you two have been here before? And why are they all speaking¡­ the Alshifa¨C¡± ¡°It¡¯s uncle¡¯s hometown, dummy. Of course we¡¯ve been here before. And he sent word to everyone here telling them to speak in the undertown tongue while you¡¯re here!¡± Alice flicked her forehead, taking her stack of posters before shooing her away. ¡°Until the Hasharana Entrance Exam starts, we¡¯ll be working as waitresses for Tavern Emparatoria, so better get used to smiling and dragging customers into a seat! Between you and me, we should be able to turn a massive profit like we¡¯ve never turned before!¡± A kitchen knife flew out one of the windows, and Dahlia caught it by the tip before it could stab through her head. There was a pouch of silvers and a handwritten note wrapped around the handle, but before she could even read its contents, Alice started shooing her further away from the tavern. ¡°That¡¯s uncle¡¯s shopping list for ingredients! Go mess around the city and buy everything in one go,¡± Alice said, weaving posts and ropes out of glowing silk to create a queue for further customers. ¡°We should still have enough ingredients for lunch service, but at this rate, the pantry will be all cleared out before dinner. Don¡¯t come back too late, alright? And don¡¯t get kidnapped and stuff, too! It¡¯ll be troublesome if I have to drop my waitressing and go fetch you!¡± Dahlia gulped nervously, clutching the shopping list in her hands. ¡°But¡­ what about training? Or preparing for the exam? With only a month left and¡­ a ninety percent death rate for the first stage¡­ I thought maybe you¡¯d help me¨C¡± ¡°An Arcana Hasharana training someone who already has an Altered Swarmsteel System?¡± Alice laughed, shaking her head profusely. ¡°Nah! You¡¯re on your own for the exam! Now hurry before the main streets get so crowded you can barely find your way back!¡± Chapter 65 - Bazaar Thief Dahlia had seen the hustle and bustle of the main streets from atop Emparatoria, but actually wading through the crowd was another beast altogether. Exiting Eighth Mantid Street, she entered some sort of bazaar where a sprawling web of stalls, tents, and open-air shops stretched out under the fierce midday sun. Narrow, winding pathways snaked between the stalls, barely wide enough for five people to walk side-by-side, but there had to be dozens of people squeezing by the dust-choked streets¡ªshe¡¯d not felt this suffocated since the last time she visited Alshifa¡¯s Night Bazaar. And these people¡­ aren¡¯t¡­ all human¡­ either. She jostled from side to side as she squirmed through the crowd with her shopping basket in hand, twisting past carts pulled by men with heavy beetle shells on their backs, dodging men with long antennae from poking her eyes out. It wasn¡¯t just one or two or three; more than half the people in the city had some sort of insect appendage replacing their normal human limbs, and nobody seemed at all uncomfortable around them. Merchants with complete ant heads gestured at tables filled with shimmering jewels, their many-jointed fingers wrapped in thick cloth, mandibles clicking as they negotiated prices. Streetside singers with segmented chitin rings around their neck bellowed throaty songs, gathering crowds of curious onlookers. More winged couriers¡ªchildren, most of them¡ªdashed overhead on tarps and turbaned heads, earning the collective ire of the crowd as men and women alike shook their fists angrily. For her part, she barely knew where she was going or what she had to get for Tavern Emparatoria. She¡¯d taken a gander at the shopping list, but Safi¡¯s handwriting was butterfly indecipherable, and before she could even think about going back for clarification, she¡¯d been pushed into the crowd. Following the ebb and flow of the bazaar the past two hours had her shoving her shopping list in random merchants¡¯ faces, and after lots of incoherent shouting, pointing, and silvers being taken out of her pouch, she now had a basket of fresh leeks, radishes, and a ton of other vegetables she didn¡¯t recognise. She¡¯d counted the number of ingredients in her basket, and it matched the number of handwritten lines on the list, so she assumed she¡¯d bought everything Safi asked her to¡ªbut now the challenge was getting back to Tavern Emparatoria, and Kari wasn¡¯t very helpful on that front. Just because she knew where she had to go didn¡¯t mean she could get there. So¡­ many¡­ people¡­ I can¡¯t¡­ breathe¨C [Most humans of the surface have at least one or two clearly visible insect traits¡ªafter all, it¡¯s not an immediate death sentence if someone without a system eats one small insect,] Kari said, trying to distract her from the stifling heat and the noise of the Bazaar as she tried to squirm her way through the crowd. [Since most people¡¯s jobs and futures are decided the moment they are born, they are fed one specific insect dish when they are children to mutate one singular insect trait. Afterwards, their mouths never so much as come close to insect flesh again, so the ¡®Bloodlines¡¯ ¡ªthe term the Hasharana use to refer to the voices people hear as they are on the verge of mutating into an insect¡ªare never strengthened any further. A human loses their humanity when they succumb to their Bloodline, but if the voices are only mere whispers, even a child with a scorpion claw for an arm wouldn¡¯t lose themselves.] [Now, the City of Feasts is a bit special in the sense that many high-skilled insect-flesh chefs live here, meaning many people come here from all across the continent just to buy specific insect dishes. This is why the bazaars are so packed, and this is why the people here are so diverse. You can buy just about any mutation here as long as you have the silvers to pay the chefs, so if you¡¯d look to your left, you¡¯d see¨C] I don¡¯t want¡­ a tour right now, she grumbled, feeling dizzier and more nauseous by the minute. I just wanna¡­ go back¡­ to the tavern¨C [Actually, don''t look to your left.] [There¡¯s a bit of a gruesome scene.] ¡­ She looked anyways, and it wasn¡¯t like she could really help it. Tons of people were crowded around the entrance to a particularly narrow and shady alleyway, and they were all gasping, looking up at the gloom¡ªDahlia couldn¡¯t help but grimace herself. They were five bodies wrapped from head to toe in milky silk, swaying gently in the desert breeze, sticking to a massive spider web strung between the scrap buildings. The corpses were very visibly deformed with their insides sucked out, just like the victims of Madamaron and its brood, but unlike the first time she¡¯d come across a husk in the Oasis Town, she didn¡¯t have to do anything here. Three hooded men with flower-patterned capes were pushing the crowd back from the alleyway, their voices sharp and commanding as their hands rested on the hilts of curved, gleaming Swarmsteel blades. She didn¡¯t need Kari to tell her who they were: she instinctively pulled her scarf up and hurried away, scurrying towards the end of the Bazaar. Hasharana. If they find me with an unregistered Altered Swarmsteel System, they¡¯re going to capture me, right? [Yep.] [And I told you not to look, didn¡¯t I?] She pursed her lips, trying to quell the pounding in her chest; she couldn¡¯t quite get the image of those bodies strung up on a web out of her head. There are bugs preying on people in this giant city, too? But with so many people here¡­ and the Hasharana hosting the exam as well¡­ I thought it¡¯d be safe¨C [It happens every once in a while¡ªa giant bug pops out of the ground and wreaks some havoc around a district before the Mantid Syndicate deals with them¡ªbut it is, indeed, quite strange for five bodies to just show up near a bazaar like that,] Kari murmured, rubbing its head and looking behind her as it stood atop her shoulder. [Since you¡¯re not a registered Hasharana, I can¡¯t access the local bug bounties to see how many giant bug sightings have been reported in the area, nor can I tap into any public announcements made by any Hasharana warning each other about any giant spiders lurking in the shadows. However, you are largely correct: with the Hasharana Entrance Exam soon to be underway, giant bug activity should decrease dramatically across the entire city as more and more participants arrive.] ¡­ [Let the Hasharana deal with that situation. If it is anything particularly peculiar, I imagine that Arcana Hasharana is also already in the know¨C] If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement. Her antennae tingled and she snapped her head down, seeing an amber-chitined hand plucking a single radish out of her basket. A thief. Dahlia whirled just in time to see a little girl with glassy wings hopping over the sea of heads, four arms flailing for balance as she skipped onto a nearby iron balcony. The man sitting on a chair and overlooking the bazaar with a cigar in his hand shouted at her to bugger off, so she jumped and clawed up more and more balconies, vaulting over the edge of the roof before Dahlia could even blink. [... After her!] If Dahlia were to be honest, she wasn¡¯t that disappointed about a single radish, but she sighed nevertheless and stretched her legs¡ªshe wasn¡¯t in a hurry to get back to the tavern, and maybe a bit of exercise would help her clear her head. Inhaling sharply, she leaped. Wind whirled around her, blowing sand and dust into nearby faces and scattering goods off adjacent stalls. Her locust greaves carried her above the ground as she slammed her claws into the side of the building five metres up; she clawed five more metres up and then threw herself over the edge, eyes immediately snapping onto the pairs of glassy and sunlight-refracting wings fluttering across the roofs. They¡¯re really giving her away, huh? [They¡¯re cicada wings,] Kari commented, [mostly membranous with lots of veins, hence the glass-like texture.] I know. I¡¯ve made lots of trinkets with them back in Alshifa. The ¡®chase¡¯ across the city roofs was surprisingly calm and slow. Away from the bazaar and the main streets, scrap buildings were built high and close together, and if Dahlia just didn¡¯t look down, she could easily imagine she was skipping over thin river streams instead of what she was actually doing. The cicada girl¡­ wasn¡¯t very fast. For how agile and dexterous she was vaulting over crates and swinging off clotheslines, her actual speed was far below Dahlia¡¯s¡ªcutting her off by jumping to a roof in her projected trajectory was easy enough. As Dahlia landed right in front of her, she yelped and whirled and tried to kick off the edge of the roof, so Dahlia caught her ankle mid-air. That was the end of that. ¡°Wait! Miss! Don¡¯t drop me!¡± the girl cried. ¡°You can have it back! I¡¯m sorry! I won¡¯t do it again!¡± ¡°...¡± Dahlia held her upside-down while she flailed two of her arms around, her other two arms stopping her long skirt from falling over her face. Surprisingly, the radish she stole was nailed to the inside of her skirt alongside a dozen other vegetables¡ªstolen from other unaware shoppers, no doubt¡ªso Dahlia frowned slightly, plucking out the radish before flipping her over to put her down on the roof. ¡°... You speak the Alshifa tongue?¡± Dahlia asked, putting her hands on her knees as she bent down to meet the chestnut-haired girl eye-to-eye. ¡°I was told only old people remember how to speak the tongue of the Sharaji Desert undertowns¡­ are you actually much older than you look? How old are you?¡± The girl blinked, still patting dust and sand off her amber mantle as she returned a blank look. ¡°I¡¯m¡­ huh? I¡¯m fourteen?¡± ¡°You¡¯re fourteen?¡± ¡°Uh-huh. And you?¡± ¡°I¡¯m also fourteen.¡± It was Dahlia¡¯s turn to blink. The girl was supposedly the same age as her, but also half a head shorter with thin plates of amber-hued chitin scattered across her skin¡ªlooking at the rest of her outfit, though, Dahlia could see she was probably not a young child. She wore a fashionable white blouse with puffy sleeves under her amber mantle, her dark skirt was ankle-length, and her chestnut hair was tied in a long braid with a dozen pins woven between the loops; a girl younger than twelve wouldn¡¯t dress herself up like that. A girl this fashionable shouldn¡¯t be stealing radishes from the bazaar, either. ¡°Don¡¯t steal,¡± Dahlia mumbled, chopping the girl¡¯s head with her hand as she stuffed her radish back into her basket. ¡°You¡­ You look like you have silvers to spare, you know? Just buy your own vegetables. And return everything you stole to the people you took them from. And make sure to¡­ apologise, as well. Some people can¡¯t afford even a single radish¨C¡± ¡°I can¡¯t afford one either.¡± ¡°... Huh?¡± The girl turned all four of her skirt pockets inside-out, sticking her tongue out at Dahlia. ¡°I got no silvers. I have nothing. I haven¡¯t eaten in five days, and I¡¯m going to die.¡± Dahlia blinked again. ¡°But what about¡­ your parents? Your house? Surely you¡¯ve got somewhere to¨C¡± ¡°I don¡¯t live here! I¡¯m just here for the Hasharana Entrance Exam!¡± she said, snatching the radish right out of her basket before leaping off the edge of the roof, clapping two of her hands together in an insincere apology. ¡°Sorry, but I really, really want a hotpot, and you¡¯re the only one I could find with a radish around the bazaar! I promise I¡¯ll find you after I pass! The Hasharana will pay me all the silvers in the world, so I¡¯ll return you ten radishes and¨C¡± The girl slammed into a street lamp back-first, tumbled ten metres down, before landing on a tarp and crashing painfully into boxes of fresh fruit below. ¡­ Ow. People started shouting angrily, and more people pulled out their blades, but the girl just gave everyone apologetic nods before sprinting away¡ªso for Dahlia¡¯s part, she just watched the thief disappear into the crowd with her radish. It really, really wasn¡¯t that important, and she felt she¡¯d gotten her fill of exercise. If the girl really wasn¡¯t lying, then she was fine giving up a vegetable or two. But a girl like that¡¯s taking part in the exam too, huh? she mumbled, cracking her neck and stretching her arms as she reoriented herself, looking in the direction of Tavern Emparatoria. Are they all so¡­ you know. Weird? [Ninety percent of participants die in the first stage of the exam,] Kari reiterated. [If you only want a system, then you can simply buy one from a system merchant or obtain one by joining the local guards in any borough or major settlement. If you only want to fight the Swarm, then you can enlist in your closest Swarmsteel Front and fight on the frontlines. The only people who take the Hasharana Entrance Exam are those who have nowhere to call home, and those who have nobody to go back to¡ªanyone who participates in the Hasharana Entrance Exam most likely already has a system, and has already served at least a few years on the frontlines against the Swarm.] [I suppose the girl¡¯s a bit on the young side to be participating, but you¡¯re also fourteen, and Alice became an Arcana Hasharana when she was eleven.] [The exam attracts all sorts of people from across the continent, but those who enter the first stage are always ready to die at any given moment.] [The feeling of ¡®death¡¯ isn¡¯t particularly new to you, is it?] ¡­ Dahlia sighed as she spotted Tavern Emparatoria in the distance with its loud and gaudy signage. But Alice won¡¯t train me before the exam. [You already have me.] Just to make it fair for the other participants, she¡¯d probably tell me to ignore you for the entirety of the exam as well. [But you already have me.] That cicada girl¡­ am I going to have to clash with more weird people like her during the exam? How strong are the other participants? Can I really¨C [You already have me,] Kari grumbled, stomping on her shoulder. [And believe in yourself a little more, won¡¯t you? You still have an entire month to prepare. If you eat ten points a day consistently, make new Swarmsteel out of Madamaron¡¯s parts, and exercise on top of it all, you¡¯d be in no way ¡®lacking¡¯ compared to the other participants¡ªI can assure you this much as a former Archive of the Altered Swarmsteel Systems.] ¡­ You¡¯re not lying? Kari huffed with dissatisfaction, crossing her forelegs. [I don¡¯t lie, Dahlia. And you¡¯ve beaten odds worse than ninety percent, haven¡¯t you?] [Ignore the City of Feasts for the rest of the month and go hole yourself up in Tavern Emparatoria.] [Before the exam begins, you should figure out what Swarmsteel you want to make with Madamaron¡¯s parts.] Chapter 66 - Month and Night Before Dahlia had never seen Safi angry, but she couldn¡¯t deny the old man seemed a little miffed when she returned to Tavern Emparatoria with one less radish than she was supposed to have. Immediately afterwards, she was sent back out to the bazaar to get a new one¡ªsuffering through the heat, the crowd, the noise, the whole ordeal once again¡ªand by the time she returned, it was already nearing evening. Dinner service was about to begin, so Alice wasted no time sizing her up, measuring her dimensions, before weaving a crimson apron for her with the words ¡®Tavern Emparatoria¡¯ spelled out bold and large in front. At least, she assumed that was the words spelled out; it wasn¡¯t like she could read the local tongue or anything to begin with. Nevertheless, she spent the rest of her evening hours waitressing for the tavern, and it was¡­ as hectic as she¡¯d thought it¡¯d be, with only old Safi manning the stoves and two girls running the storefront. Customers from Eighth Mantid Street poured in in droves, and they liked their food hot and fast. Safi could certainly keep up, tossing rice in eight pans with two hands, but Dahlia was an absolute drag. She couldn¡¯t keep track of orders, she couldn¡¯t weave through the tightly-packed tables quick enough, and a bump here and there had put noodle bowls upside-down on a few customers¡¯ heads. Nobody really got mad at her¡ªthe scary-looking uncles and aunties on Eighth Mantid Street were all incredibly nice and curious about her¡ªbut she still felt sorely embarrassed by the time Safi ended dinner service and kicked the motley bunch out of his tavern, two hours before midnight. She couldn¡¯t even say ¡®thank you for the patronage¡¯ or ¡®sorry for the inconvenience¡¯ to anyone she¡¯d bothered. [You really ought to learn the local tongue before the Hasharana Entrance Exam.] You think? [Of course.] [Your chances of survival¨C] ¡°Your chances of survival in the first stage of the exam will largely hinge on whether or not you¡¯re capable of working with your teammates!¡± Alice interrupted cheerily, kicking the door open behind her and barging into her room. ¡°In that sense, learning how to speak the local tongue is far, far, far more important than making something out of Madamaron¡¯s parts¡ªSwarmsteel are a dime a dozen while you¡¯re in the first stage of the exam, but you¡¯ll only have two or three teammates! If you can¡¯t communicate with them, that¡¯s it!¡± ... How is she still predicting what you''re going to say? Aren''t you a fusion between Eria and the Bloodline''s personality now? [Give me some time to readjust. I''m still mostly drawing upon the Archives'' speech pattern, so I''ll make more of an effort to use the Bloodline''s speech pattern in the future.] Which is? [Aggressive. Ambitious. Prideful. Capable of shouting at you to move even when it''s not logical and you''re feeling afraid.] Kari shrugged. [Your own words.] It was eleven at night. She was prying jagged chitin plates off one of Madamaron¡¯s severed arms on her table in front of the window on the second floor of Tavern Emparatoria. Both her and Alice had their own rooms, of course, while Safi preferred crashing out on the sofas in the tavern below, but for some reason, Alice just liked hanging out in her room all the time. It wasn¡¯t like their rooms weren¡¯t adjacent to each other¡¯s, or that her room had a better window view of the Eighth Mantid Street right below. Alice just really, really seemed to like jumping onto her creaky wooden bed and making a mess of her neatly folded blankets and bedsheet. Dahlia paid the girl no mind as she continued ripping parts off Madamaron¡¯s arm, using natural moonlight from the window to help her locate the steel threads. ¡°Bath¡¯s ready,¡± Alice said, kicking her legs back and forth on the bed as she squinted at Dahlia¡¯s work-in-progress Swarmsteel. ¡°What are you making, anyways? Is that for the exam?¡± ¡°What else?¡± Dahlia mumbled back, a single drop of sweat beading down her forehead as she carefully carved out a whole half-metre long plate of chitin from Madamaron¡¯s forearm. ¡°I don¡¯t know¡­ what I¡¯m making, by the way. I just need to dismantle and pry off the raw components first. If you¡¯d tell me¡­ what I¡¯ll be doing in the first stage of the exam¡­ maybe I¡¯ll be able to make Swarmsteel that¡¯ll help me out directly.¡± Alice made a loud ¡®bzzt¡¯ noise, crossing four index fingers before her lips. ¡°No can do! I registered you for the exam while you were away in the bazaar this afternoon, but any more help than that and I¡¯d be overstepping my boundaries. That¡¯s just no good at all.¡± Dahlia grumbled under her breath, turning Madamaron¡¯s arm over to rip out the chitin plates on the other side. ¡°I¡­ get it. I¡¯m assuming I already have¡­ an advantage over most other participants because I already have an Archive, so it¡¯ll be unfair to them if I have an Arcana Hasharana coaching me on all the strategies on top of that¨C¡± ¡°Huh? Nah. It¡¯s nothing like that. I just don¡¯t feel like helping.¡± Alice shrugged, slapping the back of her head with her own pillow. She whirled and scowled, yanking her pillow away; Alice slapped her face with a second pillow. ¡°Anyone who¡¯s half-serious is cheating in the exam, anyways. You think the details about this year¡¯s exam stages haven¡¯t already been leaked and flying around as rumours to be bought in the bazaars? Anyone who actually wants to pass already knows the general gist of the first stage.¡± ¡°... Okay?¡± she muttered, grabbing her second pillow as it flew at her face. ¡°Tell me what the rules of the first stage are, then.¡± Alice refused to let go of the second pillow. ¡°Don¡¯t wanna.¡± ¡°Tell me.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t wanna. I hear dozens of new cafes have opened up across the city since I last visited, so I wanna spend all my time in the city lounging around there.¡± Dahlia narrowed her eyes. ¡°But you¡¯re here in my room.¡± Alice grinned at her. ¡°I¡¯m here.¡± ¡°You¡¯re here in my room now.¡± ¡°Maybe I don¡¯t have to be.¡± ¡°Maybe you shouldn¡¯t be here if you¡¯re not gonna tell me, then.¡± ¡°But I¡¯m already here.¡± Alice was still pulling hard on her pillow, so she let go with no warning and let Alice smack her own face with the pillow, turning away while grumbling to resume work on dismantling Madamaron¡¯s parts. ¡°If you¡¯re not gonna help, then leave me alone,¡± she mumbled. ¡°I have work to do. I gotta¡­ make something out of Madamaron¡­ and train¡­ and learn how to speak¨C¡±Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. ¡°Wait, wait, wait. Don¡¯t kick me out,¡± Alice said, scrambling to defend herself as she sat against the wall, holding out her pillow like a shield. ¡°I¡¯ll tell you what you wanna know about the exam. The exact details haven¡¯t been leaked yet, so the only thing I can tell you is what¡¯s floating around as rumours in the bazaars, but hey! If you don¡¯t even know that much, I can be your girl!¡± Dahlia squinted at Alice¡ªshe¡¯d still rather have some alone time to think of something good to make out of Madamaron¡¯s parts¡ªbut if the Arcana Hasharana was offering information, then there was no good reason to refuse. ¡°So¡­ how does the whole thing work?¡± she asked. ¡°You said there¡¯s a first stage, so how many stages are there again¨C¡± ¡°Three stages,¡± Alice said, hugging the pillow as she held up three fingers. ¡°Each stage is spaced around two months apart so participants have time to rest and heal in between, and they¡¯re each personally designed and proctored by an Arcana Hasharana¡ªhowever, stage one is almost always a team-based deathmatch, stage two is an individual hunt where teamwork is optional, and stage three is a one-versus-one battle against the Arcana Hasharana in charge. You¡¯ll be here for at least five months, basically.¡± ¡°Three Arcana Hasharana?¡± She squinted at Alice again. ¡°Didn¡¯t you say a while back that there were only¡­ twenty-one Arcana Hasharana? And three of them are here right now?¡± ¡°Uh-huh. The Fool and the Sun are here.¡± [Rank one and rank eleven of the Arcana Hasharana,] Kari added. [The twenty-one Arcana Hasharana have internal rankings as well. Excluding the Worm God, the Fool is widely regarded as the strongest human on the continent, while the Sun is the eleventh.] ¡°I bet your Archive just made a snide remark about our rankings,¡± Alice said, grinning as she kicked the blanket at Dahlia. ¡°Go on, miss or mister Archive. Tell her what rank I am. I¡¯m rank four¨C¡± [¨Cshe¡¯s absolutely correct. She''s rank four, meaning she''s super strong¨C] ¡°¨Cyou suck, miss or mister Archive. Don''t tell her I''m rank eighteen,¡± Alice groaned, running a one-girl charade all by herself. Dahlia raised a brow, though. She probably didn''t realise she''d just failed to predict Kari going along with her joke. ¡°Yeah, yeah, I¡¯m rank eighteen. The three below me don¡¯t fight at all, so while I¡¯m not technically the weakest Arcana Hasharana, I¡¯m the weakest one most people will realistically see. The other three never leave the Genesis Glade Front.¡± The ranks meant little to Dahlia¡ªgiven she¡¯d never seen the feats of any other Arcana Hasharana before, nor did she really know anything about the history of the world¡ªbut just the thought that Alice was the weakest of the bunch made her a bit nervous. She stopped fiddling with Madamaron¡¯s arm to glance at Alice. ¡°And¡­ are you a proctor for the exam? You¡¯re the third Arcana Hasharana here, right?¡± ¡°Oh. That. I, uh¡­¡± Alice trailed off, rubbing the back of her head with an embarrassed flush on her cheeks. ¡°So, remember what I told you a month or so back in the Oasis Town? That I was kinda in a hurry to leave after killing Madamaron?¡± ¡°Yeah?¡± ¡°Well, there wasn¡¯t a worm effigy in the Oasis Town, so I didn¡¯t receive the notification until just this morning.¡± She sighed, smiling cheekily at Dahlia. ¡°Apparently, the Fool sent me a message telling me to design and proctor the first stage, but that was two months ago and I never responded, so¡­ I dunno. The Sun yelled at me just now while I was registering you for the exam, and she said she was going to take over proctoring the first stage for me, so it should be all good?¡± Dahlia blanked out. She¡¯d thought Alice was just lying when she said there was somewhere she needed to be, but that didn¡¯t turn out to be the case. ¡°So now you¡¯re proctoring the second stage, and the Fool¡¯s gonna proctor the third?¡± ¡°Huh? Nah. We need time to prepare each stage, so when the two of them didn¡¯t receive a reply from me two months ago, they just went ahead and filled in for me,¡± Alice said, shrugging nonchalantly. ¡°The Sun¡¯s proctoring the first stage and the Fool¡¯s proctoring the second, but I dunno who¡¯s proctoring the third. The Sun didn¡¯t seem like she knew, and the Fool refused to tell me when I asked. He said it¡¯s gonna be a ¡®mystery guest¡¯, which is¡­ ugh.¡± Then she squeezed her pillow tight, growling into the fabric. ¡°If he¡¯d just tell me, I can leak the info and sell it to the brokers in the bazaars for at least fifty thousand silvers. Tch. I bet he doesn¡¯t actually know who¡¯s the third proctor this year, either.¡± [Bitch,] Kari mumbled. [So Alice is the leak the Hasharana have been looking for this year.] [If you report her to the Sun and the Fool, you¡¯ll get at least ten thousand silvers for your troubles¨C] ¡°But!¡± Alice interrupted, shushing Dahlia though she didn¡¯t even say anything. ¡°While even I don¡¯t know the details of the second and third stage, the first stage of the exam is almost always the same every year¡ªyou¡¯ll be put in groups of three, dropped off in a custom-made venue, and be tasked with hunting down Mutant-Classes. Most likely, the duration of the first stage will be an entire month, and as long as your group takes down one Mutant, all of you will pass. We¡¯re only gonna release, like, three or four Mutants or something, though, so only a few groups will be able to pass.¡± Dahlia looked around for a notebook, a piece of paper, anything she can jot down notes on; Alice threw the pillow at her and wagged a finger, telling her to focus. ¡°The proctor of the first stage gets to decide what the special rules and parameters are,¡± Alice said, her smile gleaming, turning dangerously sharp under moonlight, ¡°and the Sun is a very, very destructive lady. She won¡¯t actually interfere while you participants hunt the Mutants, but you can bet she¡¯ll introduce a special something that¡¯ll make fighting in open ground nearly impossible. I dunno what that special thing will be, so here¡¯s the best and biggest tip I can give you for the first stage: find and make a fireproof shelter for your team to live in for the entire month. Whatever the venue is, you can guarantee it¡¯ll be massive and crawling with giant nocturnal bugs. If you don¡¯t have a roof over your head, you won¡¯t even make it past the first night.¡± ¡°...¡± While Dahlia chewed her lips and let her imagination run wild, Alice hopped off her bed with a little ¡®whoop¡¯, getting dust and dried bread crumbs all over her floor. ¡°I guess I can come by every once in a while to teach you the local Sharaji tongue!¡± Alice chirped, turning to stride out the front door as she waved at Dahlia. ¡°Don¡¯t poison yourself by eating too much bug meat before the exam next month, and, uh¡­ that¡¯s about it! Oh, and don¡¯t forget to keep the fact that you have an Altered Swarmsteel System hidden from the others! Even if it¡¯s only half-functional, it¡¯ll be messy if they learn you already have an Archive!¡± For her part, Dahlia thought that was about all the information Alice was willing to tell her¡ªeven if the Arcana Hasharana did know more about the exam, it was likely she was going to have to buy the information from the bazaars¡ªbut before Alice could leave, Kari jabbed a leg and motioned for Dahlia to stop her. What? I¡¯m sure she¡¯s told me everything there is to know¨C [Ask her about the murders in the bazaar this afternoon,] Kari urged. [Call it an inquisitive mind, but I still find it strange that Giant-Class bugs are lurking around the city in the midst of a Hasharana Entrance Exam¨C] ¡°Is your Archive worried for your safety?¡± Alice said, plucking out Kari¡¯s exact line of thought as she turned and narrowed her eyes at Dahlia. ¡°Don¡¯t forget that the first stage of the exam kills ninety percent of all participants. Whether there are¡­ unwanted pests scurrying around the city or not, you¡¯ll be putting your life on the line the next half a year. The Hasharana Entrance Exam is for the elites of the elites. If you don¡¯t drop out after registering and actually step foot in the exam venue, none of the Arcana Hasharana will come to your rescue even if you¡¯re getting mauled by a Mutant¡ªso does it really matter if there are one or two more spiders dangling over your head?¡± ¡°...¡± With that, Alice cackled and bounced out of her room, tripping downstairs to help old Safi with the tavern cleanup. Now, Dahlia wanted to get back to making Swarmsteel out of Madamaron¡¯s parts at first¡­ but then she thought the better of it, and she went downstairs to help with the cleanup. ¡­ One month. [One month to learn the Sharaji tongue, make something out of Madamaron, and prepare yourself for the exam.] [Alice is right.] [Whether you¡¯re taking part in the exam or not, a bug-slayer¡¯s life is always teetering on the very edge of life and death¡ªso until the Swarm is exterminated, you will never find true ¡®safety¡¯ in this world.] [So start by passing the exam and becoming a registered Hasharana.] [In one month, you''ll face a Mutant-Class again, and this time, you must dominate and drive it into the ground.] Chapter 67 - To the Exam A month passed by in what felt like a blink of an eye, and now it was eight in the morning, sharp. Dahlia felt like she was embarking on her first solo trip to General Elementary School again¡ªSafi was racing around the tavern, putting up chairs and bussing tables, while Alice was flying up and down the stairs stuffing boxes of food, toiletries, and general amenities into her arms¡ªand if she were to be honest, the two of them worrying so much about her just made her even more worried. By the time the two of them were ready to set off and nudged her out of the tavern with a satchel on her back, she already felt like shivering and running back into her bedroom to hide. ¡°... Exam venue¡¯s this way,¡± Safi said, dragging her to the left. ¡°No. It¡¯s this way,¡± Alice said, dragging her to the right. And the two started squabbling immediately, making a ruckus early in the morning. The perfumers setting up their stalls down the street snickered. Smiths and metalworkers throwing open their doors and windows hollered at Safi to shut the hell up, and the street cooks helping each other set up their mobile kitchen wagons started cheering, telling Alice to beat him up so bad they¡¯d have less competition for customers for the rest of the week. It was as boisterous a morning as ever on Eighth Mantid Street, but today was not the day for the uncle and niece combo to mess around in front of the tavern. Dahlia turned towards the two of them, gripping the straps of her satchel, and bowed slightly. ¡°I know where the venue is,¡± she said softly, trying to hide the trembling in her voice. ¡°I can go¡­ by myself. You two just stay here and¡­ open Tavern Emparatoria. Half of our earnings come from breakfast service, right?¡± Safi opened his mouth and raised a finger as though he wanted to make a point, but that opened him up for a leg sweep, and Alice tossed him straight back into the tavern with a loud crash. Immediately, Alice darted in to pat her down from head to toe like a worried mother. ¡°You know the way? How? Oh, did you pack spare towels? Bandages? Also, there are two boxes of dried stag beetle dumplings and one vial of crab oyster sauce inside your satchel, and the containers are super fragile, so make sure you eat them all within the week, okay? But don¡¯t share them with other people! I made them for you, so you better¨C¡± Dahlia groaned, whirling around and waving behind her as she trudged down the relatively empty street. ¡°I¡¯ll¡­ see you in a month, I guess,¡± she mumbled. ¡°I¡¯m fine. Steady. Not nervous. I¡¯ve passed¡­ exams¡­ before. This won¡¯t be¨C¡± ¡°Hey!¡± Her antennae perked, and even without having to turn and look, she could feel the Arcana Hasharana raising a fist at her back. ¡°Bring back souvenirs, will you?¡± Alice said cheerily. ¡°I think I¡¯ll feel like eating Mutant beetle meat after a month!¡± ¡°...¡± Dahlia¡¯s face softened. It was such a silly request to make of someone who was about to head to her possible demise, but¡­she couldn¡¯t deny Alice¡¯s own brand of encouragement set a strange calm over the pounding anxiety in her chest. The fear still wasn¡¯t easy to accept¡ªit never would be¡ªbut now she had no choice but to move forward, and the gathering point for the first stage of the exam, according to Kari, wasn¡¯t that far away. [It¡¯s a thirty-minute walk away.] I can make it in fifteen. A small, quivering smile bubbled onto her face as she started jogging lightly, warming up her muscles for what she assumed was going to be a long day ahead of her. She¡¯d been running around Eight Mantid Street to train her stamina while eating plenty of points, and combined with Alice drilling the Sharaji tongue into her head for six hours every day, working as a waitress in Tavern Emparatoria for the other six hours of the day, and finishing her Swarmsteel made out of Madamaron¡¯s parts just last night¡­
[Name: Dahlia Sina] [Grade: S-Rank Giant-Class] [Class: Assassin Bug] [Swarmblood Art: Recollection] [Swarmblood Aura: 1182/1250 (95%)] [Points: 21] [Strength: 5 (+6), Speed: 5 (+2), Toughness: 5 (+8), Dexterity: 8 (+3), Perception: 6 (+2)] [// MUTATION TREE] [T1 Mutation | Swarmguard Arms] [T2 Mutations | Base Chitin Development | Dagger Antennae] [T3 Mutations | Stylet Claws | Stridulating Throat | Segmented Setae] 150P [// EQUIPPED SWARMSTEEL] [Assassin Bug Claw Gauntlets (Grade: C-Rank)(Str: +4/5)(Dex: +3/4)] [Adaptable Desert Locust Greaves (Grade: E-Rank)(Spd: +1/2](Tou: +3/3)] [Firefly Bracers (Grade: D-Rank)(Str: +2/4)(Tou: +2/4)]You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story. [Butterfly Goggles (Grade: F-Rank)(Per: +2/2)(Tou: +1/1)] [Antlion Cloak (Grade: E-Rank)(Spd: +1/1)(Tou: +2/3)]
¡­ My status screen is getting harder and harder to read, Kari. [¡®Tis but a fact of life.] Don¡¯t ¡®fact of life¡¯ me. Can¡¯t you collapse a few of the boxes to make it easier to read? Kari sighed, muttering something about ¡®increasing her speed and perception level so she could read faster¡¯, but Dahlia had the feeling that sooner or later, she¡¯d be equipping so many Swarmsteel that she¡¯d have a status screen as long as she was tall¡ªand that was going to be a nightmare, high perception or not. Are my attributes high enough for the exam, though? she thought, squeezing through the crowds in the bazaar as she squinted under the harsh sunlight. Her status screen was actually getting in the way of her vision, so she waved it away and focused on getting to the giant sandstone building at the end of the bazaar. [Eh. I assume it¡¯s about the same as most other participants,] Kari said plainly. [Granted, your newest Swarmsteel does give you a few more attribute levels, so that''s... something.
[Antlion Cloak (Grade: E-Rank)(Spd: +1/1)(Tou: +2/3)]
The super loose scales on my antlion cloak will make it easier for me to use the antlions¡¯ Swarmblood Art on it as well, she thought, glancing at her wing-like black and gold-streaked cloak; Madamaron¡¯s chitin had been chopped up, ground into dust, and reforged by the smiths on Eight Mantid Street into hundreds of tiny scales she¡¯d spent weeks stitching onto the back of her cloak. Whenever I use Swarmblood Art: Scourgewind across my entire body, it always drains my Aura insanely fast even if it¡¯s only active for an instant, but I only have to vibrate my shoulders at a fraction of the usual strength to make the scales on the cloak ripple violently. [Thus, you can probably form a small spherical wind barrier around you three times a day without burning through your entire Aura,] Kari finished, crawling up and down her cloak as she squeezed through the crowd at long last. [It¡¯s quite a powerful defensive option, but you should still pay attention and try not to rely on it. Consider both Stormlure and Scourgewind¨C] Last-minute resorts and finishing blows. I know. If only there¡¯s a way to reduce the Aura drain whenever I use my Swarmblood Art, though¡­ She¡¯d activated Scourgewind several times the past month while making her antlion cloak to see if the magic would pair with the equipment, but as far as she could tell, her firefly bracers had zero synergy with Stormlure. The bracers¡¯ defensive ability to spark lightning on impact had nothing to do with how she could summon a burst of lightning in her claws. Now, she hadn¡¯t tried summoning lightning to her forearms where her bracers were, or to any other part of her body¡ªwhenever she activated Stormlure, she¡¯d instantly collapse and be forced to lay down for the rest of the day¡ªso for the time being, she had to restrict herself to three activations of Scourgewind and one activation of Stormlure per day. ¡­ What about the rest of my attributes, though? Are they high compared to what the other participants have? Kari was quiet for a moment. [The bonus attribute levels from your Swarmsteel are making up for your relatively low base attribute levels. I would say you¡¯re just about average across the board. Really, really average. But you only obtained me a few months ago, so you started at a disadvantage, and¡­ your strength has never been raw power, anyways.] That much was certainly true. She had a sinking feeling the entire past month that the other participants had much, much higher attribute levels and more mutations unlocked than her¡ªmostly because they were probably older than her, meaning they had more time to accumulate points¡ªbut what attribute levels she couldn¡¯t increase because she didn¡¯t have enough points, she¡¯d try to make up for with Swarmsteel. Whatever the case, she felt she¡¯d done her best the past month. Alice had advised her throughout with how to spend her points, and Safi had been diligently feeding her as many points as she could swallow every single day¡ªwith Kari in her head, she had more than enough advantages on her side to pass the exam. Hopefully. Maybe. She still couldn¡¯t help but gulp as warriors emerged from the crowd around her, all of them heading straight for the giant monastery at the end of the bazaar. The monastery that was the gathering point for the first stage of the exam was a monumental structure carved from the desert itself, half-fortress, half-temple. Massive sandstone pillars flanked the entrance, the grainy walls weathered but reflecting harsh morning sunlight like mirrors. She would¡¯ve stood still and gawked at it had she not been watching the Hasharana turn the building into the exam¡¯s gathering point the past few weeks, and besides, the warriors walking alongside her to the line of reception desks outside the front gate were more interesting to look at anyways. Twenty, forty, sixty, eighty¡­ There were many who¡¯d registered: short and silver-haired ladies with dragonfly wings folded on their backs, towering men with bronze skin and black beetle chitin armour rounding their joints, and more clad in Swarmsteel breastplates, draped in layers of weather-beaten cloth, and wielding impractical-looking weapons that didn¡¯t seem like they belonged in any warriors¡¯ hands. They were too numerous, really¡ªDahlia started holding her breath as she neared the ten receptionists before the front gate, hardly anyone paying any mind to her while pushing her around. So¡­ hot¡­ Why¡¯s everyone so¡­ big¡­ compared to me? [Don¡¯t be stupid. You forget you¡¯re only fourteen years old,] Kari muttered. [Most people who register in the Hasharana Entrance Exam are at least twenty, and most who actually participate are twenty-five or above. Most of them have also had their systems for at least a decade, so it¡¯s likely the beetle class users have all unlocked a size-increasing mutation somewhere along the way. For your reference, beetle class users make up around ten percent of all participants every year.] Huh¡­ that¡¯s interesting¡­ to¨C Before she knew it, though, the people in front of her were waved past the reception tables and she was pushed in front of one. The Hasharana with the beige-coloured, flower-patterned cape crossed his arms as he frowned down at her¡ªshe was easily only half his height, tiny and paltry in comparison¡ªbut then he snapped his fingers at the people behind her, stopping them from pushing her forward with a deep, resonating thrum of wind. Her eyes immediately widened as she clamped her ears with two hands, the other two still gripping onto the straps of her satchel. That¡¯s my Swarmblood Art. Antlion vibrations¨C ¡°Name,¡± the Hasharana rasped, and she immediately clammed up as she stared at him. ¡°Uh¡­¡± she mumbled, trying her best to speak in the Sharaji tongue. Thank the Great Makers it wasn''t too hard to learn; it was just a dialect with relatively minor differences compared to the Alshifa tongue. ¡°I¡¯m¡­ Dahlia Sina. Fourteen. I''m here to¨C¡± ¡°Name: Dahlia Sina,¡± he rasped again, his amber eyes flickering to the left as he stared at something invisible; a status screen. ¡°Age: Fourteen. Education history: Unknown. Origin: Alshifa Undertown. You are participant number three-one-eight, and your assigned team is ¡®Dahlia¡¯. Proceed to room three-one-eight and await further instructions.¡± Dahlia blinked. ¡°I''m in team¡­ what?¡± she asked. ¡°I think there''s a mistake. My name is Dahlia. Sorry, my¡­ I''m not good at this tongue, so maybe¨C¡± ¡°Proceed to room three-one-eight,¡± the man sighed, grabbing her by the shoulder and pulling her past the table. ¡°I read it correctly. You''re in Team Dahlia. Your teammates are already there, so move and get into your room.¡± ¡­ The warriors behind her were sweaty, gnarly, and impatient to speak to the receptionist, so Dahlia gulped one last time before looking up the stairs to the front gate. No going back now. Chapter 68 - Team Dahlia Alshifa worshipped no gods other than the Great Makers, and the Great Makers crafted shelters instead of temples¡ªDahlia had never set foot in a temple before, so as she¡¯d expected, she simply couldn¡¯t find the right hallway to throw herself down. Beeswax candles burned above and bells rang from shadowy corners. The sandstone temple was a hundred times bigger on the inside than it looked on the outside. She¡¯d trudged through the front gate and saw only one straight hallway to the end, thinking it was just her luck that maybe she wouldn¡¯t get lost, but room three-one-eight didn¡¯t mean it was on the third floor, or the first floor, or on any of the floors; at the end of the first hallway were stairs on the left and right, leading down into the underground, and the moment she went down was the moment she truly lost herself in this winding labyrinth of a temple. Zero ventilation. Endless straight hallways that led wherever which way. Dim candlelights and ear-grating bells. Stairs that went up, down, back to previous hallways. Twenty beautifully ornate wooden doors lined each side of every hallway, and on some, there were signboards with room numbers scribbled on. On others, there were only empty signs, and she felt sick just thinking about pushing them open. It was like some sort of void lay behind those doors, and if she opened them carelessly, she¡¯d be sucked in, never to be seen again. It wasn¡¯t just her who was obviously confused about where their assigned room was. She¡¯d been walking around for twenty-five minutes, and along the way, she must¡¯ve passed a hundred other participants scratching the back of their heads. Most of them were panting and out of breath as though they¡¯d been wandering down here for days, but¡­ that couldn¡¯t be true, could it? The gathering point for the exam only opened this morning, didn¡¯t it? Kari? Hello? Are you okay? [...] No response. Kari had been quiet since she stepped foot into the temple, and a part of her shuddered at the thought of being discovered with an Altered Swarmsteel System already in her neck. She¡¯d been told to keep Kari quiet, but maybe there was something in the temple jamming the little worm? Disrupting its functions somehow? Whatever the case, she was truly alone down in these halls, and no matter how far she walked, she just couldn¡¯t seem to find room three-one-eight. Maybe this is part of the exam, she thought, chewing her lips as she glanced at each signboard only briefly, heading towards the stairs at the end of the hallway once again. What good is a Hasharana at clearing out bug infestations if they can¡¯t even find a room they¡¯ve been assigned to? With each step she took, her heart grew heavier and heavier. There had to be a trick behind the never-ending stairs and underground levels. She¡¯d descended at least sixteen levels by now; the Hasharana who¡¯d sent her into the temple told her she had to be in her room by thirty minutes, so she must be expected to do something drastic in order to reach it. She paused in the middle of an empty hallway, raised her antennae, and swerved them around with her eyes closed. She didn¡¯t know what she was looking for¡ªshe¡¯d already tried her antennae many times before, but just one more time. One more time couldn¡¯t hurt. When her antennae failed to even give her a push in the right direction, she sighed and knelt into a little ball, hugging her knees with all four arms. Have I already failed? If I don¡¯t get to my room in one minute, am I just going to fail? What if I just open one of the numbered rooms and ask the people inside? The Hasharana who¡¯d sent her in had explicitly told her not to talk to anyone¡ªmost likely, this labyrinth was part of the exam¡ªbut would the Hasharana even know if she just pushed a door open to quickly exchange hand gestures with another participant? Looking to the left at the door numbered two-two-one, she peeked at the slit beneath the door, trying to see if there was any light behind it¡­ ¡­ And then she frowned, looking up at the sign again. And then she looked around at the other sign along the hallway, noticing all of the signs on the left were already numbered, while all of the signs on the right were unnumbered. And then she noticed cold, blue light only seeped out from under the slits of the doors on the right. There were no lights coming from behind the numbered doors on the left; there were sandstone walls right behind those doors, and she realised, even without pulling them open, that they were doors that¡¯d lead her nowhere. Maybe¡­ Rubbing her eyes, she stood up and walked towards the door to her immediate right, feeling sick and dizzy the moment she approached it. The blue light behind the door was humming, threatening her to stay back, and when she hovered her hand over the doorknob, she immediately retched. Nope, nope. Not like this. Coughing and hacking, she scowled at the empty sign next to the door and slapped a palm over it, trying to remember how to write ¡®three-one-eight¡¯ in the Sharaji tongue. It¡¯s like¡­ this. Hastily, she carved the numbers onto the signboard, and with only ten, maybe twenty seconds left on the invisible clock, she forced herself to grab the doorknob and yank it open. The blue light vanished in an instant, and she didn¡¯t even turn to see beastly monstrosity was barreling down the hallway to clear out any of the participants who couldn¡¯t find their room in time¡ªshe threw herself into her room, landed on her stomach, and kicked the door shut all in the same motion. She slid a good few metres across the waxy wooden floor, and eventually came to a squeaky halt in the centre of the room. ¡­ Whoa. The room was as spacious as Tavern Emparatoria¡ªcosy wooden floorboards, gently glowing firefly lamps in the corners of the room, honeycomb-shaped glass panes covering every inch of the walls and ceilings, and most importantly, a dozen fluffy sofas she just wanted to immediately throw herself onto. It didn¡¯t even register to her that there was a giant blue dahlia drawn across the floorboards in the centre of the room until she scrambled to her feet, and when she realised, she immediately took a step back to blink; the Hasharana wore flower-patterned cloaks, after all. It was probably just a coincidence that she was assigned to ¡®Team Dahlia¡¯, or maybe whoever had allocated the teams thought it¡¯d be funny to stick her here. The real coincidence, however, were the two people who were already lounging around on the circle of sofas around her. One was a giant of a man with his bare arms corded with thick muscles, his face cut with harsh lines. His deep red and gold tunic clung to his massive torso, embroidered with scale-like patterns, and a white sash crossed his chest with half a dozen gourds strapped on. His loose trousers were black and lined with rings of crimson fur, flaring at the ankles, and his deep red eyes stared into her soul as he rested one arm across the hollow head of a giant stag beetle; the empty black shell was waxed and glistening, and the twin horns were so sharp she had no idea what its purpose even was. The other was a terrifically short girl with amber chitin plates scattered across her skin, and even if she made an attempt to conceal them with her mantle, Dahlia would¡¯ve instantly recognised the glassy cicada wings.Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. She immediately pointed back at Dahlia, mouth agape. ¡°Radish girl,¡± she said, and it took Dahlia a moment to register the Alshifa tongue. ¡°Radish thief,¡± Dahlia replied, pointing back at her in the Sharaji tongue. ¡°You¡¯re¡­ I thought you were lying when you said you were¨C¡± The honeycomb glass panes on the walls rippled with blue light, and suddenly a voice coughed through the walls, vibrating straight into her eardrums. ¡°Testing, testing, one two three,¡± a lady muttered, and all three of them in the room snapped their heads towards the blurry silhouette on the other side of the glass; it was like they were staring through a window into another room, but Dahlia knew there wasn¡¯t a room behind those panes. The lady clad in red and black beetle armour wasn¡¯t really there, and the bow she held in her hands wasn¡¯t real, either. ¡°All of you can hear me, right? The speakers are working? If so, make yourself comfortable on one of the sofas. This won¡¯t be long, but you¡¯d want to sit down for it nevertheless.¡± A pause. Silence. Then the lady looked straight at Dahlia, and the image cleared to reveal a pair of sharp, crimson eyes staring right at her. ¡°I¡¯m talking to you, girl from room three-one-eight. Sit down. The details of the first stage of the Hasharana Entrance Exam will begin shortly.¡± Dahlia needed no telling twice. She¡¯d no idea how the lady could tell she was still standing, but between the endless hallways, the teleporting doors, and the honeycomb glass walls that could seemingly connect two rooms across space and time, she felt she was completely out of her depth¡ªso she picked a soft velvet sofa far from the beetle man and the cicada girl, patting her lap as she tried to put herself at ease. The archer lady on the other side of the glass waited for a moment before humming with satisfaction. She took her seat on a sofa identical to the one Dahlia was on, and it was only now that Dahlia realised the lady was in a team room of her own, just like all of them. Was the lady actually somewhere close by in this temple? ¡°... Welcome, participants, to the thirtieth Hasharana Entrance Exam,¡± the lady said, sighing as she kicked her legs across her sofa and laid on her back. ¡°I¡¯m ranked eleventh of the Arcana Hasharana, the Sun. You may also know me as the Sun Shooter. I¡¯ll be the proctor for the first stage of the exam, so here¡¯s to another fruitful year with at least five passing candidates. Without further ado, allow me to present the full history of the Hasharana as a wandering bug-slaying organisation, beginning with the appearance of the Worm Mage in Year Sixty¨C¡± The Sun suddenly blurred, and Dahlia frowned as a small ruckus came from the other side of the glass¡ªit sounded like someone else walked into the lady¡¯s room, started talking, and the lady shouted back, telling the new arrival to sit in the corner. A moment of awkward rustling and clicking sounds later, the image refocused, and the Sun was sitting upright with her bow in her lap. ¡°Excuse me,¡± she muttered, coughing into her fist. ¡°A cockroach just crawled into the room. I had to dispose of him quickly¨C¡± ¡°Get on with the explanation already, Jiayin,¡± a man interrupted from the side of the room, just a bit out of sight. ¡°Also, where¡¯s my second volume of ¡®Web of a Thousand Eyes¡¯? I swore I left it here just ten minutes ago¨C¡± ¡°Shove it, roach.¡± The Sun reached behind her quiver for an arrow, and then she chucked it full-force at the man who¡¯d interrupted her. Sand trickled from the ceiling and onto Dahlia¡¯s shoulder as a distant boom resounded; the Sun herself resumed smiling at Dahlia. ¡°As some or most of you may have already heard, we¡¯ve enlisted the help of the Empress of the Attini Empire for the construction of the first stage¡¯s venue. It is a giant fungi forest at the back of the city, and that is where all nine hundred and sixty of you will be staying for the next month.¡± Then the left half of the glass wall rippled, and it was as though it connected to another view¡ªthis one of a vast, vibrant, sunlit mushroom forest, where the fungi stalks were as tall as tiny mountains and foliage was as dense as a spider¡¯s web. The Sun shuffled to the right, gesturing at the view next to her with an arrow. ¡°The Empress made a gargantuan arena, so we¡¯ve released about three thousand giant bugs in the forest alongside two Mutant-Classes of the same species,¡± she said plainly. ¡°The rules are simple: currently, there are three hundred and twenty teams of three, but only two teams can pass. In order to make it to the second stage, your team must kill at least one Mutant before the time limit is up. It¡¯s first come first serve. You can kill both Mutants so only your team passes, or you can kill your teammates and the other teams as well if you think they¡¯re only going to get in your way¡ªneedless to say, we don¡¯t really care what you do, and we won¡¯t interfere even if you¡¯re about to be killed by the Mutants. We just want at least one person making it to the second stage this year.¡± She paused for a moment. ¡°If anyone wants to back out of the exam, now is the time. Just exit through the door behind you, and you will be transported back to the front of the temple.¡± Dahlia gulped, stealing peeks at the cicada girl and the beetle man, but the two of them were dead-eyed and bored out of their minds; they looked like they couldn¡¯t wait for the Sun to finish talking. Who are they, anyways? Where are they from? I¡¯ve never seen their clothes before¨C ¡°Cool.¡± The Sun clapped her hands all of a sudden, making Dahlia jolt. ¡°The teams have now been whittled down to only seventy-five, and that¡¯s¡­ wow. Exactly two hundred and twenty-five participants. So all of you are in teams of three.¡± She paused for yet another moment, squinting at something past the edges of the window. ¡°Finally, for some extra rules and details and stuff¡­ you¡¯ll be warped out of the forest the moment your team kills a Mutant, your entire team will pass even if only one person actually works to kill a Mutant, and for the bonus challenge¡ªbecause I¡¯m the one proctoring the first stage this year¡ªthere¡¯ll be an additional obstacle that we¡¯ve never introduced before. It¡¯ll be on par with the two Mutants, so¡­ that¡¯s basically it, right? Did I miss anything?¡± The man¡¯s muffled voice travelled through the glass again, though he was still out of sight. ¡°Here¡¯s a tip before we let all of you enter the venue: you can kill your teammates and the other participants, but I¡¯d recommend not doing so. For these two Mutants, it¡¯s best if you work together and¨C¡± ¡°Can it, roach. It¡¯s my exam, and I decide if they should get any tips,¡± the Sun grumbled, throwing a pillow at the man. ¡°Anyways, if you¡¯re ready, step through the wormhole to your right¡­ to your left. You¡¯ll be warped straight to the fungi forest courtesy of the Worm God, who¡¯s not here with us, but he¡¯s probably still listening to this one way or the other.¡± And, right on cue, the left side of the honeycomb glass wall shattered to let in a blast of warm, earth-scented air. Dahlia¡¯s eyes immediately widened. It was the same sensation as when she''d written the room number on the sign outside, and the world beyond the door changed to let her in. How does that even¨C ¡°You have one month to kill the Mutants,¡± the Sun said, standing and groaning and stretching her waist as she walked away from the glass. ¡°Best of luck to all of you, and¡­ try to work with each other, okay?¡± With that, the glass panes on the right turned fully opaque, and only the ¡®wormhole¡¯ to the fungi forests on the left remained. The cicada girl and the beetle man had been silent throughout, and they maintained their silence as they both got up from their sofas. It was almost comical seeing how tiny the girl was when she was standing side-by-side with the man, but both of them were giving off cold, standoffish auras that made Dahlia shiver¡ªthey weren''t going to kill each other right off the bat, right? ¡­ No. She wouldn''t let them fight. If it came down to it, she''d stop both of them and¨C ¡°I am Muyang, fourth son of the Firegourd Wu Clan,¡± the man said, closing his eyes as he bowed at Dahlia and the girl slightly. ¡°With great respect, I eagerly await walking this shared path with the two of you. May our collaboration bring about boundless wisdom.¡± ¡°I¡¯m Emilia,¡± the girl said, scratching her ear awkwardly as she looked between Muyang and Dahlia. ¡°I¡¯m not looking to kill anybody. Papa will kill me if he knew I took a human down on the path to becoming a bug-slayer, so¡­¡± She winked at Dahlia, pulling a half-hearted apologetic grin onto her face. ¡°Forget about the radish thing, okay? I¡¯ll make it up to you by carrying you through this first stage!¡± Dahlia recovered quickly; folding her hands before her as she dipped into a small bow as well. ¡°I-I¡¯m Dahlia, of the Alshifa Undertown,¡± she stammered. She was so, so incredibly relieved deep inside that she seemed to have decent teammates; she didn¡¯t know what she¡¯d do if she had to fight them both to get them to work together. ¡°I also¡­ don¡¯t want to kill humans¡­ so I hope we get along. Companionship.¡± Muyang acknowledged her with a polite nod. ¡°You are Dahlia of ¡®Team Dahlia¡¯? Fate has indeed smiled upon this meeting, and I trust it will lead to a most auspicious journey ahead." ¡°Uh¡­ yes. Good to meet you, too.¡± It was Dahlia¡¯s turn to scratch her head, looking at the ¡®wormhole¡¯ pointedly. ¡°Now, don¡¯t we have to¡­ go through that thing before it¨C¡± ¡°Yep! We¡¯re going now!¡± For a girl her size, Emilia was surprisingly strong. She grabbed Dahlia by the collar, then wrangled the horn of Muyang¡¯s giant beetle shell forward, dragging all three of them through the wormhole before it could close on them¡ªand it was like Dahlia immediately stepped foot in another world where the the air was thick with a damp, earthy musk, clinging to her skin like a second layer. Massive hundred-metre-tall mushrooms surrounded them on all sides, and the moment the glowing circle that was the wormhole winked shut behind them, her antennae tingled. ¡­ Danger. And she looked up to see the shadow of a colossal moth, soaring just above the mushroom caps. Chapter 69 - Bet Two hundred and twenty-five participants stepped foot into their respective wormholes, and Jiayin immediately lay down on her sofa to stare at the honeycomb walls and ceiling. Exactly seventy-five panes of honeycomb glass were shimmering above and around her, each following a team of three and showing her just what the participants were all up to¡ªthe most promising candidates, of course, were on the ceiling where she could look directly up at. The rest of the rabble who¡¯d eventually die or drop out because of the time limit were put on the far walls, and she had no intention of paying any attention to them unless someone had something nice to say about them. For that matter, William¡ªever the roach-like, smarmy man¡ªwasn¡¯t helping her keep an eye on the participants. The bespectacled man was off in his own corner of the surveillance room, curled up in a ball and poring through the second volume of his book. He was always like this. Hell would freeze over before she could ever pry him away from his mystery novels, and¡­ it was like he didn¡¯t even care that one of the honeycomb glasses on the left wall had already gone dark, indicating a bug or two had already gotten to that team. She sighed aloud, pulling out a steel arrow from the quiver she¡¯d laid next to the armrest. ¡°Is that ¡®Web of a Thousand Eyes¡¯, roach?¡± she asked, licking the barbed tip and coating it with saliva. ¡°Who¡¯s the murderer? The lighthouse guard? The principal? Maybe it¡¯s actually the detective all along, and he just doesn¡¯t remember committing all of those murders himself?¡± ¡°The commandments of what makes a good mystery novel dictate the detective cannot be the culprit.¡± The man¡¯s eyes were still glued to his book, but he pushed his glasses up, letting out a sigh of disappointment as he did. ¡°It can¡¯t be the lighthouse guard, and it can¡¯t be the principal. They¡¯re red herrings. It¡¯s always the one the detective least suspects, but it also has to be someone that¡¯ll kick him in the gut the hardest when they¡¯re finally revealed. I¡¯m tired of this book by now, to be honest. I¡¯m ninety-nine percent sure the culprit¡¯s the¨C¡± With an underhanded throw, she chucked her arrow at his head and watched it detonate right in his face. The room trembled slightly, and a few panes of honeycomb glass threatened to fall off the walls, but by the time the smoke cleared, William had already taken out a new mystery novel to read; she clicked her tongue and snapped her head to look elsewhere, unable to tolerate even one more second of the man¡¯s stupid round glasses that made him look more like a wimpy scholar than the Arcana Hasharana he really was. And this guy¡¯s supposed to be the second strongest human in the world after the Worm God. ¡°... Where the hell is the Worm God, anyways?¡± she muttered, scowling as she caught two more panes of glass going dark to her right. ¡°It¡¯s the thirtieth Hasharana Entrance Exam, the last one in this century, and he can¡¯t even be bothered to send a clone over?¡± William shrugged. ¡°He was here. The tenth clone. At least, he was close enough to open seventy-five wormholes at once, but I think¡­ he¡¯s leaving now. Not like there¡¯s any point in him staying when we¡¯re the ones proctoring the exam.¡± ¡°And? Where¡¯s the tenth clone going?¡± ¡°Traces of the Beast of Ka¡¯lan have reappeared in the Attini Empire. He¡¯s going to investigate.¡± Then he looked up from his book for a brief second, looking pointedly straight at her. ¡°Focus on surveillance, idiot. Just ask your Archive about Enki¡¯s movements if you¡¯re so interested in him.¡± She laughed sardonically, fingers twitching to throw another explosive arrow at him. ¡°How about you help me out, then? There¡¯s hundreds of them. I can¡¯t keep track of them all.¡± ¡°Sure you can. Like you didn¡¯t shoot down a thousand arrows last year at the Rolling Logs Festival¨C¡± Footsteps resounded outside the front door, and Jiayin flicked an arrow behind her preemptively. A net of silk threads caught the arrow as the Hangman kicked the door open, holding two bottles of morning ale over her head and wearing an over-exuberant grin on her face. ¡°You¡¯re here,¡± Jiayin mumbled. ¡°I¡¯m here!¡± Alice chirped. ¡°Why are you here?¡± ¡°Drink!¡± The girl laughed, hooking the door close behind her as she walked to the sofa right between Jiayin and William. The two bottles of morning ale were flicked at each of them, and while Jiayin caught hers out of the air, William fumbled, the glass shattering against his forehead. ¡°Uncle told me to give you these in his stead, since he¡¯s busy preparing the tavern for morning service and stuff! You guys like ale, right? He said he added extra ¡®spice¡¯ to the Sun¡¯s bottle, but I kinda forgot which one was which on the way!¡± Jiayin shook the bottle next to her ear, listening for any solid particles inside the glass. ¡°It¡¯s this one. Safi dumped a whole chunk of hellfire chilli inside, didn¡¯t he?¡± ¡°I dunno! Anyways, scoot over a little! I''ve got a bit of time before I have to go back and help uncle out, so¡­ uh, how¡¯s it going?¡± This girl. Jiayin clicked her tongue in irritation again, her legs being thrown off the sofa as Alice shoved them aside to make room; the two of them had to sit upright now, but Alice went a step further, throwing her legs onto Jiayin¡¯s lap as she leaned against the armrest. ¡°Your lap¡¯s the best footrest there is, Jiayin!¡± Alice laughed, letting out a satisfied groan as she leaned back against the armrest to stare up at the honeycomb glasses. ¡°Ah, I don¡¯t wanna go back to the tavern. Can¡¯t I just stay here for the rest of the month? You¡¯ve got all kinds of food stockpiled in here, right? Lemme¨C¡± ¡°You disappear for months, don¡¯t respond to any of our messages, and then you show up a month ago to register someone for the exam?¡± Jiayin snapped, throwing the girl a burning, red-eyed glare. ¡°The hell have you been doing? Fishing for pearls in a sea of sand? Do you even know the amount of trouble I had to go through to take over designing the first stage instead of the second?¡±Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon. ¡°Well, maybe don¡¯t ask a fourteen-year-old to take part in designing an exam where ninety percent of participants die in the first round!¡± Alice said, returning a teasing, infuriating grin. ¡°Seriously! I thought we were already low on numbers, and now we¡¯re killing off potential candidates who can become Hasharana in the future? What¡¯s up with that? Why not¨C¡± ¡°It certainly used to be that we¡¯d let twenty to thirty candidates pass the exam every year,¡± William said, licking drops of ale off a particularly large shard of glass as he kept his eyes glued to his book. ¡°That was between Year Seventy and Year Eighty, the first decade of the Hasharana operating across the continent. Between Year Eighty and Year Ninety, though, we¡¯ve cut down the average yearly recruits to about fifteen, and in the past five years, we¡¯ve only added fourteen new recruits to our ranks. Do you know why that is?¡± Alice craned her head to grin at William. ¡°Nope! Also there¡¯s a shard of glass in your eye. You might wanna get that¨C¡± ¡°In Year Eighty-One, thirty-one Hasharana took off and deserted the organisation with their Altered Swarmsteel Systems, having entered the exam as a group of bandits intending on strengthening their drug-running routes,¡± William said, blinking and shaking the shard of glass out of his eye. The wound healed in an instant, and he pulled out a second pair of glasses out of his shirt pocket. ¡°We took them down within three years, but half of their Altered Swarmsteel Systems are still circulating out there, and who knows what kind of lowlife activities those Archives are doing now; since then, we¡¯ve upped our recruitment standards. No mere bandits can just pass the exam, and we don¡¯t let our Archives fall into any wrong hands.¡± Jiayin flicked the cork of her bottle open and took a light swig. The ale burned all the way down her throat, but either Safi had gone soft over the years or her heat tolerance was getting stronger and stronger; the ale tasted like nothing. Her own saliva was more spicy than this watered-down gunk. ¡°You sure you brought the right bottle, girl?¡± she slurred, waving the bottle around¨C shit. She was getting dizzy already. ¡°Whoa¡­ wait¡­ this is¡­ new¨C¡± ¡°But only fourteen new recruits in the past five years?¡± Alice said, tilting her head quizzically as she ignored Jiayin promptly. ¡°You sure you guys aren¡¯t making the exam too tough? Gosh, is it because of me? I mean, I know I kinda aced the exam three years ago, but you don¡¯t have to raise the bar that high¨C¡± ¡°The Swarm evolves every single day. A C-Rank Mutant-Class from Year Sixty can¡¯t even compare to a C-Rank Mutant-Class today.¡± William sighed, shaking his head in dismay. ¡°Truth is, a third of the Hasharana we passed ten years ago probably wouldn¡¯t pass today. That¡¯s just how it is. As the years go by, the bugs get stronger and stronger, and so we need more and more overwhelmingly powerful recruits like you¡ªthough you¡¯re the anomaly of all anomalies, so we¡¯re not using you as the standard.¡± Alice rested her legs across Jiayin¡¯s shoulder, and for her part, Jiayin was feeling too tipsy and light-headed to protest. ¡°Okay. But, like, people are still dying in these exams, you know? Shouldn¡¯t we at least interfere when they¡¯re about¨C¡± ¡°One thousand three hundred and fourteen people registered for the exam this year,¡± William said plainly. ¡°Nineteen people didn¡¯t show up to the temple this morning. Three hundred and thirty-five people didn¡¯t enter their rooms in time. Of the nine hundred and sixty people who had the choice to drop out after listening to the rules of the first stage, seven hundred and thirty-five people chose to depart¡ªand those who dropped out will continue to fight for humanity for the years to come. We did preserve those lives.¡± ¡°... And the ones who are already dying in the forest? Aren¡¯t they the most promising candidates if they chose to participate even after hearing the rules?¡± ¡°They¡¯re the ones who will either become Hasharana or die trying,¡± William replied. ¡°Contrary to what you may believe, this exam is not for the elites of the elites. If someone just wants to slay bugs and fight for humanity, they can go to any of the major Swarmsteel Fronts and enlist there, and I¡¯ll be the very first to tell them to serve humanity that way instead. They can be noble warriors who get recognised for their deeds, have a steady income, and start a family with a proper house and all¡­ but ¡®steady¡¯ is not the type of people who register and take part in the exam, is it?¡± Alice raised a curious brow, and William shrugged. ¡°People become Hasharana for a very, very personal reason, and people who survive to fail one year always come back the next year,¡± he said, putting his book down for a second to muse up at the honeycomb glasses. ¡°If their fate is to either become a Hasharana or die trying, then those who die during the exam simply have no place amongst the Hasharana to begin with. They¡¯ll die anyways once they become a Hasharana and start getting Mutant-Class extermination missions. It¡¯s not like the Altered Swarmsteel System will give them a ¡®stronger¡¯ insect class or anything, anyways. The only thing that changes is the addition of the Archive.¡± ¡°...¡± With that, Alice laughed and spun around on the sofa, laying her head down on Jiayin¡¯s lap. ¡°Wanna bet on the teams that¡¯ll pass the first stage?¡± she asked, immediately jabbing her finger up at two of the teams on the ceiling. ¡°I¡¯m going with¡­ uhh¡­ wait, I can¡¯t find her¨C¡± ¡°The team with the Plagueplain Doctor and the team with the Symbiote Exorcists,¡± Jiayin slurred, slapping Alice left and right in an attempt to get the girl off her lap. ¡°Can you, like¡­ stop¡­ using me as a pillow¨C¡± ¡°Oh, the Plagueplain Doctor¡¯s with a noble from the Attini Empire!¡± Alice chirped, ignoring her and pointing at the team dead centre in the middle of the ceiling. ¡°Okay, I¡¯m going with that team! But the Pioneer team is looking strong as well! William, William, William, who do you think¨C¡± ¡°Team Dahlia,¡± he said quite evenly, a bored smile tugging on the corner of his lips as he resumed his reading. ¡°They¡¯re the ones on the wall behind you two, by the way. They¡¯re not on the ceiling.¡± Alice sat up straight, whirled, and gasped in the same motion. ¡°You¡¯re right! Why aren¡¯t they on the ceiling? That''s my face right there¨C¡± ¡°Because they¡¯re nothing special,¡± Jiayin grumbled, kicking Alice in the back of the head and sending her toppling over the armrest. ¡°They¡¯re¡­ two random girls and a Head of a Dancing Beetle. If the man was paired with a Body and a Tail, maybe they¡¯d be a top team contender, but those two girls are just gonna¡­ drag him down.¡± But William hummed like he knew something Jiayin didn''t, and Alice clawed over the edge of the sofa, tearing at Jiayin¡¯s scalp. ¡°William¡­ knows what''s up!¡± Alice growled, and Jiayin licked her palm to prime it with explosive saliva, ready to blast the girl away. ¡°She¡¯s the one¡­ who''s going to be¡­ the real show-off for the team, isn''t she?¡± ¡°Get off me, you fucking brat¨C¡± ¡°Who knows?¡± William chuckled. ¡°I do wonder how many people will pass this year, though.¡± Chapter 70 - Fungi Shelter The shadow of the colossal human-like moth was impossible to ignore. It fluttered far overhead, above the canopy of giant mushroom caps, and Dahlia¡¯s antennae trembled as she saw the moth¡¯s glowing amber eyes cruise by. Its killing pressure was immense. Immediately, Emilia whistled a sharp tune, and both Dahlia and Muyang were yanked back with an invisible force¡ªdragged behind the base of a giant mushroom, out of the colossal moth¡¯s sight. Whoa. Is this Emilia¡¯s Swarmblood Art? As she blinked in Emilia¡¯s direction, the shorter girl and the older man peered nervously around the mushroom, scowling straight up at the colossal moth. Fortunately for them, the moth didn¡¯t seem to be looking for anyone in particular. At thirty metres in length and nearly twice that for wingspan, it probably had trouble just seeing the ground through the occasional gaps in the mushroom canopy, let alone actually spotting someone running around underneath. They held their breaths and stayed in its shadow for only a moment longer; soon, it passed by and flew to another part of the fungi forest, leaving them completely alone. It wasn¡¯t until Muyang finished counting down from ten that the two of them turned back towards Dahlia, sighing simultaneous breaths of relief. ¡°... I can¡¯t believe the additional obstacle is a sun moth,¡± Emilia said, putting her hands on her hips as she chuckled anxiously, still looking back and up and left and right. ¡°Well, this is a messed-up exam. The Sun¡¯s gonna kill so many of us, introducing that moth alongside the two Mutant-Classes we already have to hunt.¡± Muyang agreed with a terse nod, leaning against his giant beetle head and crossing his arms. ¡°Sun moths are very common in my homeland. They are known to be able to shoot fire from their eyes and raze entire swathes of land from the sky, and they are such a pest that there are entire families in the north dedicated to hunting them to extinction. I, too, cannot believe Miss Jiayin, the Sun of the Arcana Hasharana, captured one and decided to release it here.¡± Emilia frowned, looking at him suspiciously. ¡°You¡¯ve fought one before?¡± ¡°A few C-Rank Giant-Classes, yes,¡± he replied, frowning nervously back, ¡°but the one above our heads has to be at least a D-Rank or C-Rank Mutant-Class. Furthermore, its flight altitude is much higher than any sun moth I have seen before. I do not believe any participant has the ranged capabilities to bring it down.¡± ¡°It¡¯s supposed to be an additional obstacle, after all,¡± Emilia muttered. ¡°Something to keep us busy. Something to separate the wheat from the chaff. The Sun probably doesn¡¯t expect any of us to actually kill it, so how about we ignore it and only focus on the two Mutants we are expected to kill?¡± ¡°I can agree with that, Miss Emilia.¡± The two became fast allies, Emilia¡¯s four hands shaking Muyang¡¯s two, and then they rounded on Dahlia with such speed that she couldn¡¯t help but take a step back out of fright. ¡°So?¡± Emilia said, sounding slightly annoyed as she pouted. ¡°You don¡¯t wanna be a hero either, right? Agree to ignore the sun moth and run whenever we see it?¡± ¡°Ah. Um. Sure,¡± Dahlia mumbled, sticking two of her hands out slowly. Her teammates grabbed them and shook vigorously, which came as a surprise. Muyang seemed the polite and formal type, but she hadn¡¯t expected Emilia to look so happy shaking her hand. ¡°So¡­ to go over the rules of the first stage again, we have to hunt and kill at least one Mutant within the month. Simple. That¡¯s¡­ basically it, right?¡± With the colossal moth nowhere to be seen, Emilia trudged out from behind the giant mushroom and into the sunlight, holding her hands over her face. ¡°Seems like it. And I¡¯m assuming the Mutants won¡¯t just show themselves. There¡¯s a reason why the exam duration is an entire month, after all?¡± Dahlia chewed her lips as she studied the fungi forest around her, hugging herself. ¡°We¡¯ll¡­ have to actually hunt the Mutants down, huh?¡± ¡°In an extermination mission, a Hasharana spends most of their time looking for the bug, anyways.¡± Emilia shrugged nonchalantly, raising a hand and swerving her index finger around in circles. Dahlia and Muyang watched intently as she hummed to herself, her whole body swaying to a musical beat, and then she stopped¡ªshe jabbed at their left, head snapping over. ¡°There. Let¡¯s go that way.¡± ¡°You¡¯ve located a Mutant already?¡± Dahlia asked, eyes wide. ¡°As expected of Miss Emilia,¡± Muyang said, a sly grin curling his lips. ¡°I am truly blessed with brilliant teammates¨C¡± ¡°Huh? No. I dunno where the Mutants are,¡± Emilia muttered, kicking dirt back at them as she started walking left. ¡°Let¡¯s just look for a shelter first. We probably won¡¯t find the Mutants within the week, so we can¡¯t be caught with our pants down when night falls. If the Sun¡¯s daring enough to release a sun moth into the forest, then she¡¯s definitely not lying when she said she also released three thousand Giant-class bugs alongside it. You guys wanna sleep outside at night?¡± The chestnut-haired girl didn¡¯t wait for them. She strolled deeper and deeper into the fungi forest, and Dahlia shared a look with Muyang before racing after her. The worst thing they could do now was split up. ¡­ Kari. You there? She waited one second, two seconds, but there was still no response. She¡¯d no reason to believe there was any reason other than the fact that all Archives were automatically jammed or disrupted within the arena¡ªand though she couldn¡¯t even fathom how that could be done, she also couldn¡¯t fathom she¡¯d been sitting in a dimly-lit room in the middle of the City of Feasts just mere minutes ago. Now, she was in an entirely different world. Her steps were quieted by the yielding, sponge-like earth. Around her, the towering mushrooms stretched towards the sky, held up by thick and striped and spotted stems. Their colours were so vivid they almost hurt to look at¡ªamber bleeding into crimson, violets tipped with electric blue¡ªbut the dense green foliage crowding the ground wasn¡¯t much better, either. Vines wrapped around mushroom stems, twisting tightly and stretching up into the caps above. Between the mushroom trunks, bushes with dark leaves and small, waxy berries grew in tangled clumps. Roots from the mushrooms crisscrossed the forest floor as well, forming twisted patterns that tripped her up more than a few times.Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there. But the air smelled of damp earth and something faintly sweet, like overripe fruit left out too long, and she found herself more absorbed in admiring the scenery than actually looking out for any bugs. ¡°How did we even get here?¡± she whispered, mumbling to herself under her breath. ¡°We were under the temple just moments ago, but now we¡¯re¡­ here. Confusion. Where are we, anyways? This isn¡¯t¨C¡± ¡°The Worm God¡¯s Swarmblood Art. He can make ¡®wormholes¡¯ to connect two places together,¡± Emilia said, pinching her ear and stopping her from walking headfirst into a wall of thorny vines. ¡°As for where we are, I caught a glimpse of the fungi forest from the outside when I first arrived in the City of Feasts. We¡¯re just a day¡¯s walk from the city. Most likely, the Worm God called upon the Empress¡ªanother Arcana Hasharana¡ªto grow this forest from the ground-up.¡± So many new names. ¡°So the Hasharana just made an entire forest for the sake of the exam? That doesn¡¯t¡­ that¡¯s¨C¡± ¡°The Empress, fourth-ranked of the Arcana Hasharana, is also the Empress of the Attini Empire,¡± Muyang clarified, the horns of his giant beetle head dragging and cleaving through the ground behind him. ¡°I am not surprised that the esteemed Empress is capable of cultivating a forest like this within two month¡¯s time. Unfortunately, because it was cultivated so quickly, it would also rot and decay just as quickly. In a month, the fungi will drain the underground desert canals of all their water and perish. That is likely the reason for the exam¡¯s one-month duration.¡± Dahlia looked around, still, completely stunned. ¡°And just how big is this entire forest? I can¡¯t even see the end of it.¡± ¡°Large enough that we haven¡¯t even run into a single bug or another team yet,¡± Emilia grumbled, folding her arms behind her head as she sighed. ¡°I can¡¯t hear a single thing with my cicada ears. No action. No nothing. Are either of you catching anything?¡± Dahlia consulted her antennae, pulling them down before her face. ¡°No. I don¡¯t¡­ feel anything.¡± ¡°I sense no evil eyes on our backs, either,¡± Muyang muttered. As they all let out another collective sigh, though, Emilia¡¯s little cicada antennae tingled¡ªit wasn¡¯t the blood-freezing type that meant danger, and Dahlia could tell as much as the girl whipped her head over to the right. She was staring straight at a particularly small but thick mushroom, the spotted red cap only three or so metres off the ground. There was a hole at the bottom of the stalk as well. ¡°I don¡¯t assume the Hasharana went as far as building reinforced cabins for us to fight over and take shelter in, but¡­ maybe?¡± Emilia said sardonically, glancing back to grin at the two of them. ¡°Say, do you two have any problems with living in mushrooms?¡± Dahlia was about to ask what Emilia was talking about when her own antennae tingled this time, and they all snapped their heads to look far behind them, squinting at the distant giant silhouettes tearing through the forest. The giant bugs didn¡¯t seem to be heading for them specifically, but inevitably, they¡¯d clash if the giant bugs continued charging forward. ¡°... Wanna check the mushroom to see how hollow it really is, Dahlia?¡± Emilia asked, shooting her a toothy grin and waving her off. ¡°You go inside, peek to see if anything¡¯s already living there, and tell us if the smell is any bearable. We¡¯ll deal with the bugs out here.¡± If Muyang wasn¡¯t as tough-looking, Dahlia would¡¯ve swallowed a huge gulp at the thought of letting only the two of them face down that horde of bugs in the distance, but instead, she jogged over to the low mushroom without any weight on her shoulders. They¡¯ll be fine¡­ I think. Right? She resisted the urge to turn around and look as the sounds of slaughter began. Biting her tongue, she circled around the thick mushroom stalk until she found herself standing squarely before the small opening. Immediately, a warm, earthly smell greeted her nose¡ªa mix of damp soil, old wood, and something faintly herbal. But not pungent. Definitely no dead bugs inside, either. Really struggling to not look behind her, now, she crawled through the tight opening and put her feet down on the soft, fibrous, almost bouncy ground. Standing upright was absolutely possible with more headroom to spare. The interior of the hollow mushroom stalk was spacious, and the circular walls glowed faintly with patches of bioluminescent moss clinging to the walls, casting a soft, greenish-pinkish light over everything. She could easily close her eyes and imagine: three beds in one corner of the room, a few shelves for them to store their equipment, and maybe they could even put some decorative furniture around to spruce the place up. The mushroom was already cosy enough as it was. Dahlia could single-handedly make this room comfortable if she had the time to spare. ¡­ No. She shook her head, clapped her cheeks, and forced herself to refocus. I definitely won¡¯t have time to pretty this place up. The two of them definitely won¡¯t care about how comfortable this place is. As long as it keeps us safe at night and we have a temporary base to call ¡®home¡¯, that¡¯s good enough¨C ¡°Sweet place,¡± Emilia mumbled, squeezing through the opening behind her and then falling flat on her face. Muyang strode in half a second later, his giant body tearing a new opening as he just walked right through the wall; none of them would have to crawl in and out anymore. ¡°It really is quite cosy, huh? Let¡¯s make it pretty! We¡¯ll be staying here for an entire month, after all!¡± ¡°I concur with Miss Emilia,¡± Muyang murmured, stroking his chin as he gazed longingly at the bioluminescent moss. ¡°In a healthy body resides a healthy spirit, and the rejuvenation flow in this mushroom is as clear as the northern sky. Good rest is imperative if we want to hunt down a Mutant-Class¡ªI will gather the raw supplies to craft the wooden spirit. The two of you can focus on carving the bones of this house.¡± Dahlia and Emilia frowned, but the shorter girl was doing so for an entirely different reason. ¡°Just say you¡¯re gonna get wood. What was that whole spiel for? Also, I¡¯m the leader of the group, so I will dole out the orders. You go get wood, and Dahlia can carve the uneven chunks of mushroom off the ground. Your claws look pretty sharp, anyways.¡± ¡°In my opinion, Miss Dahlia should be the leader of Team Dahlia,¡± Muyang said as he turned around to wade right out of the mushroom, pausing only to glance back at Emilia. ¡°It is only fitting. Fortune has already smiled upon us that our team shares the same name as one of our members. If we want to hold onto that fortune for just a little longer, we should do our best to please it.¡± ¡°What? No. I¡¯m the leader.¡± ¡°I disagree.¡± ¡°You wanna fight?¡± ¡°I do not want to kill you.¡± ¡°I said fight, you oaf. You, me, out the back in five minutes¨C¡± ¡°Um¡­¡± Dahlia trailed off, standing between the two of them with her hands spread out, her eyes flittering towards the opening behind Muyang. ¡°What¡­ happened to the giant bugs outside? Weren¡¯t they coming really fast towards us?¡± ¡°The bugs?¡± both of them said at the same time, furrowing their brows at each other. ¡°They were exterminated,¡± Muyang said plainly. ¡°We¡¯ve secured breakfast, lunch, and dinner for the next few days,¡± Emilia said, grinning and raising a thumbs-up at her. ... Dahlia¡¯s face tightened as she was finally able to peer past Muyang¡¯s giant body, noticing the two small mountains of giant bug carcasses sitting right outside the mushroom. The mountain on the left consisted of broken bug carcasses, strewn limps, and smushed-up heads, but Dahlia could imagine what happened to them judging by the giant beetle head sitting at the very top of the bloody pile. It was the exact same mountain on the right without a giant beetle head that she couldn¡¯t imagine being made¡ªmuch less by the girl kicking the back of her knees and telling her to get going with the carving. ¡°We¡¯ve gotta have a comfortable homebase!¡± Emilia chirped, letting out a loud, relaxing sigh as she lay down flat on the ground, throwing out her arms and legs. ¡°We¡¯ll get a nice house made, rest for a few days, and then we probably won¡¯t have to go looking for the Mutant! It¡¯ll come looking for us!¡± Chapter 71 - Ambrosia Beetle Dahlia should¡¯ve asked what Emilia meant by making the Mutant come after them instead of the other way around, but, admittedly, the three of them completely lost themselves prettying up their hollow mushroom base. Three days passed, and while they hadn¡¯t strayed even a hundred or so strides away from their mushroom even once, they sure made their little homebase look good. ¡°... Nice,¡± Emilia muttered. ¡°Perfection,¡± Muyang agreed. ¡°Feels good to make something with your own two hands, hm?¡± Dahlia said, grinning at Emilia as she did. ¡°And you wanted to shove all the hard work onto me. Do you feel it now? Pride? It¡¯s fun breaking your back over something you can really enjoy looking at, right?¡± Emilia didn¡¯t bother responding, but she did get a scowl back. Dahlia grinned and took that as an admission of defeat. What a cosy little place. I could live here for a while. It was early in the morning of the third day, and the three of them were just lazing around the room. Emilia had crafted low stools and tables from chunks of sturdy mushroom stems, arranged neatly along the left wall, and she was currently sprawled out comfortably across the sofa with her legs up on the armrest, arms folded behind her head. Muyang had carved makeshift shelves and decorated them with dried plants and berries by the right wall, and there they stored their weapons, armour, and other trinkets too heavy to carry all the time¡ªmostly just Muyang¡¯s giant beetle head, but there were small bundles of medicinal herbs, colourful stones Emilia had insisted on keeping as souvenirs, and a few boxes of stored insect flesh they could cook in the small hearth in the centre of the room. He was humming as he polished his beetle head with a mushroom rag. Then, there was the rest of the room Dahlia filled out by herself. She looked around dreamily as she lay flat on her stomach, kicking her legs back and forth on her bed. There were three of them at the back of the room: thick layers of moss woven together with the soft, fibrous bark of smaller mushroom trunks. Surprisingly springy. For lights, she¡¯d peeled off chunks of the bioluminescent moss from the wall and hung them from the ceiling strategically, braiding them like glowing bulbs so the room was evenly lit. She¡¯d even carved three small alcoves in the walls and covered them with vines, turning them into wardrobes for more private items they didn¡¯t want to put on their shelves. She could go on and on about the other things she¡¯d done¡ªthe small washbasin she¡¯d dug outside the mushroom to redirect water flow from a nearby river, the working door that didn¡¯t creak on its hinges, and the engraved sets of kitchen utensils she¡¯d carved out of mushroom wood¡ªbut it was only when all three of them sighed in utter peace and bliss that their eyes twitched at once. Emilia sat up straight. Muyang stopped polishing his giant beetle head. Dahlia stopped kicking her legs back and forth, and the three of them shared a solemn, knowing look. ¡°... What are we even doing?¡± Dahlia said, shaking her head in disappointment as she groaned, rolling off her bed and onto her feet. ¡°Let¡¯s¡­ go. To hunt. We¡¯re supposed to be bug-slayers, aren¡¯t we?¡± ¡°Do we have to do it now?¡± Emilia mumbled, rolling around and burying her face in the armrest. ¡°There¡¯s even ventilation from the little holes we poked in the walls. It¡¯s breezy here, Dahlia. Breezy. Where I come from in the east, ¡®warm¡¯ is sweating buckets in your academy uniform while the professors¨C¡± ¡°Miss Dahlia speaks the truth. We have grown content under the weight of stillness,¡± Muyang said, slapping his knees as he stood up with a heave, lifting his giant beetle head off the ground, ¡°or has some unseen reason bound us to this inaction, Miss Emilia? I seem to recall you saying we did not have to scurry after the bugs, but instead, we could simply let them come to us. Pray enlighten me, but what wisdom lies within those words?¡± Emilia peeked out from under her armrest, throwing Muyang an irritated glare. ¡°I meant what I meant. We don¡¯t need to put a hundred percent effort when it comes to hunting bugs. We only have to give a hundred point performance.¡± Dahlia and Muyang blinked at the same time, so, very reluctantly, Emilia crawled off the sofa and stretched her arms, cracking her neck. ¡°Fine, fine. Let¡¯s go bug-hunting, then,¡± she muttered, grumbling a quiet word under her breath. The air around one of her left hand twisted, and by the time Dahlia finished blinking, a glowing amber chime made of swirling blood finished coagulating in her hand. "Follow me. I reckon there¡¯s a decent chance we can just kill the Mutant today. Then we can go right back to lazing around... ah, I don''t wanna do this. Can we just lay here for a few more hours?¡± ... Dahlia shared another look with Muyang before Emilia sighed, beckoning them to follow her out of the mushroom. The moment they pushed out the front door, they were met with a loud, lively fungi forest. Morning dew clung to every leaf, vine, and mushroom stem. Sharp chirps and trills echoed from branches unseen, and above¡ªthe cloudless blue sky shone bright down between the gaps of the mushroom canopy. It was a peaceful morning, like every other day she¡¯d spent in the forest, but Emilia immediately whirled on her and stared at her antennae. ¡°You have some sort of predator insect class, don¡¯t you?¡± she said, before gesturing wildly at the forest. ¡°I¡¯m a cicada, so my antennae aren''t suited for hunting, and the big guy¡¯s obviously some sort of horned beetle, so his antennae are club-shaped and pretty useless when it comes to finding prey¡ªbut you can do it, right? Sharp, dagger-like antennae means you specialise in tracking down living organisms, yeah?¡± ¡°Um¡­ I don¡¯t¨C¡± ¡°Look around. Feel around. Is your antennae picking up on anything out of the ordinary?¡±If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. Muyang and Emilia looked at her expectantly, and for her part, she was just fidgeting with her claws. Her antennae were certainly good at sensing danger, but her perception level was neither particularly high nor particularly honed¡ªso it came as a surprise to her when she closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and found her antennae were tingling in a particular direction. Right. A whole jolt and shiver ran down her spine, but before she could even open her eyes and tell her teammates her ¡®findings¡¯, Emilia was already strolling casually to the right with all four arms crossed behind her back. Muyang didn¡¯t want to lag behind. He started dragging his beetle head through the ground as well, glancing back at Dahlia and clicking his tongue at her to follow. ¡­ I miss you, Kari. Please talk to me once I¡¯m out of this exam. Sucking in a deep breath again, she sprinted after the two and shouted at Emilia to wait up. The shorter girl, of course, didn¡¯t listen. They stepped over thick roots, brushed past wide leaves that left cool droplets against their skin, and eventually, she stopped pestering Emilia to explain what they were doing. Her Dagger Antennae made that apparent enough. The further they left their cosy little section of the forest, the more the colours around them began to fade, and the more consistent the tingling in her antennae became. Bright green and red mushrooms gave way to dull browns and blacks, and thick, heavy scents hit her nose. Damp rot mixed with sour earth. A twinge of unease settled in her stomach as they saw the first carcass: a giant beetle with its carapace cracked and hollowed, legs curled stiffly towards its body. Bits of fungus grew on it, creeping along its joints, feeding on what was left. A little further, she spotted another bug carcass, then another, and another¡ªeach one in varying stages of rot, most barely recognizable except for their broken, blackened shells. What happened here¡­? Then, there were the bodies. Human bodies. A few hung from low branches, torsos pierced by jagged vines or thin roots. Some were slumped against mushroom stalks, giant bug legs wedged through their chests, stomachs, and necks. Most were sprawled out across the earth, hands still clenched around their oversized bug-slaying weapons, and even more flesh had given way to fungus, greyish-yellowish spores dusting the bodies in patches and turning skin into sickly, moulded surfaces. All in total, they must¡¯ve passed by at least five hundred giant bug carcasses, and at least ninety, maybe a hundred people. Dahlia couldn¡¯t stop her antennae from shivering wherever they pointed now. ¡°Is the first stage really supposed to be this bloody?¡± she whispered, hugging herself as her eyes flitted nervously around. She felt as though she could hear leaves rustling overhead, talons clawing along spiralled mushroom stalks, and it made her all the more jumpy. ¡°This is¡­ don¡¯t the Hasharana¡­ want¨C¡± ¡°They knew what they were signing up for,¡± Emilia said quietly, holding up a fist to stop them from walking any further. Muyang screeched to a halt, and Dahlia walked head-first into his muscled back, wincing as the cicada girl knelt before a particularly fungus-infested corpse lying in front of them. ¡°See, this is why I wanted us to do nothing for the first few days. Three thousand Giant-Class bugs and over two hundred participants? Always let the crickets chirp before the katydids sing.¡± ¡°... You wanted the weaker participants to fight first?¡± ¡°I wanted the weaker bugs to fight us first,¡± Emilia corrected. ¡°It¡¯s only been three days, but I¡¯m probably right when I estimate about¡­ eh, two-thirds of the bugs have probably already been slain. We can move around more freely now, and there¡¯s also less participants who might come after us, and we also relaxed for three days. I know it''s not a pretty sight, but do you want to hunt for Mutants in a forest with three thousand Giant-Class bugs lurking around?¡± Dahlia bit her lips, walking around Muyang to look down at the fungus-infested man with a heavy heart. ¡°I don¡¯t. Even still¡­ we shouldn¡¯t have¨C¡± ¡°Get down here as well, big guy,¡± Emilia said, beckoning both of them to kneel alongside her as she patted the spores on the man¡¯s back. ¡°This guy and his team didn¡¯t die so long ago, and I highly doubt the Empress planted any fungus that¡¯d consume the dead so quickly. If it¡¯s not the forest doing this, then these spores have got to be a Mutant''s ability. Do either of you know any bugs that can make decaying fungus grow this quickly?¡± Muyang shook his head immediately. ¡°Unfortunately, I am not a well-read man in the entomological texts of Amadeus Academy. My talent in identifying bugs is¡­ woefully incompetent.¡± ¡°I figured. And you, Dahlia?¡± Emilia turned on her, throwing her a pointed look. ¡°You¡¯re the one cooking and turning insect flesh into half-decent dishes the past three days. You probably have an idea, right? Spill the beans.¡± For her part, Dahlia hesitated, feeling bile rise up in her throat, but¡­ curiosity tugged at her. And she¡¯d be doing the man a disservice if she didn¡¯t figure out what got him. I¡¯m sorry. Reaching out slowly, she brushed her fingers against a cluster of small, white mushrooms sprouting from the corpse¡¯s shoulder. They crumbled at her touch, disintegrating into fine, powdery dust that was immediately whisked away by a gentle breeze. As she recoiled slightly, she inspected the rest of the man¡¯s remains, noting how the fungal growths had infiltrated the skin. Tendrils weaved through the flesh, turning it soft and grey. ¡­ Frowning, she glanced up and around her, noting once more how the giant mushrooms nearby were similarly dull in colour. Their caps bowed and pocked with rot. Dark stains marked the stalks where the grey fungus had taken hold, creeping upwards like a disease. A few giant mushrooms had even collapsed entirely, their caps sagging and split open, revealing hollowed interiors that dripped with a thick, dark ooze. And then the other carcasses¡ªhumans and bugs alike¡ªcaught her attention. ¡°... Mama¡¯s encyclopaedia spoke of a particular type of beetle that drills into trees and cultivates fungi that breaks down the tree¡¯s nutrients, which serves as their larvae¡¯s primary food source,¡± she recited, half-mumbling under her breath as she snapped her head back around to look at Emilia and Muyang. ¡°Ambrosia beetle. The fungi they introduce into trees are particularly aggressive and harmful. When left unchecked, their fungi can cause entire forests to decay and rot away.¡± Emilia grinned at her. ¡°I have no idea what you¡¯re talking about.¡± Muyang nodded sadly. ¡°I concur with Miss Emilia.¡± ¡°Basically¡­ Mutant beetle,¡± she said, eyes twitching as her dagger suddenly swerved backwards, thrumming loudly. ¡°They¡¯re not particularly fast runners or flyers. Sluggish. But¡­ they travel quickly through trees by drilling tunnels through the wood, and that lets them ambush their prey from hard-to-defend angles¨C¡± Muyang lifted his giant beetle helm and slammed it into the ground on Dahlia¡¯s right, using it like a shield, while Emilia immediately summoned an amber blood-formed flute into her hands, screeching out a sharp note. The human-shaped shadow that''d been clinging to the side of a giant mushroom pounced at them, but then Emilia''s impossibly sharp note slammed into its head, knocking it out of the air. Dahlia blinked. What was that? Did Emilia just... punch the bug with her flute? Before she knew it, though, the human-shaped shadow with four arms and two legs scurried away, hopping from giant mushroom to mushroom as it left a trail of greyish-yellowish spores in its wake. ¡°... And the ambrosia beetle was just waiting to see if more humans would show up to crash its party, eh?¡± Emilia said plainly, dissolving her flute and patting Dahlia¡¯s back as she stood up with a heavy, exhausted groan. Muyang grabbed his giant beetle head by the horn as well, and then the two of them took off after the Mutant¡ªwithout waiting for her. ¡°Let¡¯s get that thing buried in the ground before noon, yeah? The one who kills it has to pay for lunch after we get back to the city!¡± Chapter 72 - Contenders Otto knew he probably shouldn¡¯t have brought so much gear with him into the exam, but he wasn¡¯t going to abandon his oversized satchel now. ¡°... Need some help with that, Pioneer?¡± his teammate sneered, glancing back and down at him from atop a mushroom branch. ¡°Drop the bag and just shadow us with your rifle. We don¡¯t need you on the same pace as us. You can shoot as long as you¡¯re in range, right?¡± He scrunched his nose and wiped sweat off his brow as he looked up at his teammates, the middle-aged couple in Symbiote Exorcist robes. They¡¯d been looking down on him for being small since the day they met in that waiting room, but he wasn¡¯t that small compared to them. It was just the satchel on his back that was twice his size and thrice as bulky that made him look small; he was at least tall enough to wield his anti-chitin rifle without any troubles. Of course, the two didn¡¯t care too much about him in the first place. They¡¯d told him to stay out of their way and let them handle the bugs with their syringe daggers and toxic claws, but¡­ the truth was, they¡¯d have died a dozen times over in the past three days had he not been shadowing them all the time, calling out ambushing bugs with his dragonfly goggles. ¡­ He sighed, heaving and groaning as he continued climbing the colossal mushroom to get up to his teammates. There was no point arguing with them. They were a team now, so he¡¯d just have to work with them. ¡°I¡¯m not shooting people, though,¡± he muttered, sending them a pointed glare as he finally pulled himself over the edge of the branch, patting spore dust off his trousers. ¡°And you two said you detected a Mutant. Where? My goggles aren¡¯t showing me any heat signal¨C¡± ¡°That¡¯s because your eyes are slow,¡± the exorcist said, shrugging and turning as she gave him a dismissive wave. ¡°It¡¯s moving. Fast. We can catch up and intercept it before it burrows deep into the earth again.¡± ¡°And with our luck, we¡¯ll be back in the waiting room by this afternoon,¡± the other exorcist said, patting him hard on the back. ¡°You don¡¯t have to do much. Just sit up here and follow us as we move down there. You see anything that moves, you tell us and shoot. That clear?¡± Otto twitched an eye. ¡°I¡¯m not shooting people.¡± ¡°Well, you better get used to it,¡± the man replied, and the two of them hopped forward and off the branch, clicking their tongue at him to follow. ¡°It¡¯s gonna be a bloodbath.¡±
Darkness bloomed in the centre of a mushroom clearing, and Wisnu had to plug her nose as she approached the beastly lady, her giant rectangular blade dangling loosely in her hand. The lady didn¡¯t fool her and her teammate for a second. The moment the exam started and they walked through the wormhole, their third teammate had taken off¡ªmost likely to hunt the Mutant alone¡ªand since then, it¡¯d just been her and Donna against endless hordes of Giant-Class bugs. No matter how many waves they fought off, there¡¯d always be more, there¡¯d always be more, and¡­ well, she was kinda pissed. Her eyes were dark and bleary. She hadn¡¯t gotten any sleep in days. The pretty geometric patterns on her noble¡¯s tunic were torn and stained in blood. She wasn¡¯t injured, thank the Earth Princess, but she¡¯d be in for a hell of a scolding once she returned to the Attini Empire. ¡°If only we had a third teammate,¡± she said aloud, doing her best to keep her voice even, steady, and calm. Donna, a mercenary bug-slayer from the southwest, froze the moment the beastly lady snapped her head over to glare at them¡ªand her eyes were bright, shining emeralds, her face shrouded in shadows. But Wisnu wasn¡¯t scared of her. She should¡¯ve been with them this entire time. ¡°Stop going off on your own to¡­¡± Wisnu trailed off, looking around the clearing for the first time. Bodies hung from mushroom branches, giant bug carcasses were littered everywhere, and the beastly lady in a Plagueplain Doctor¡¯s mask was kneeling hunched over a bloody mound of broken corpses. It was distasteful, if not gorey and downright disrespectful¡ªand the lady was even holding someone¡¯s heart in her hands, scalpel for nails digging into the skin. ¡°... What, pray tell, are you even doing here?¡± The lady flicked her blood-stained hair back, cackling softly under her mask. ¡°Do you even care? Leave me alone, you fucks. I don¡¯t need your help to pass. I¡¯ll just stay here for a week or two longer and collect more living heart samples. You know, there¡¯s such a variety of Insect-Blooded hearts in this exam that I just can¡¯t get enough of them¨C¡± ¡°I care if you were the one who caused this massacre,¡± Wisnu said, lifting her obsidian-edged blade and pointing it at the Plagueplain Doctor. ¡°The rules state there are no penalties for killing other participants during the course of the exam, but just because it is not written does not mean it is not wrong.¡± The lady shrugged, pocketing the heart and slipping it under her black robes. ¡°Sure, Baroness of Justice. Whatever you say. Now, if you¡¯ll excuse me, I have more hearts to collect¨C¡± ¡°Did you do this, Blaire?¡± Silence. And Blaire returned only a small, small smile with her eyes, her crow¡¯s feet not carrying the meaning behind it. ¡°What if I did?¡± she said. ¡°What are you and Donna gonna do? Apprehend me? Bring me in to see the Lord of the land¨C Ah, right, there¡¯s no Lord here.¡± Then she whipped out a glowing syringe from under her sleeve, attached it to the scalpel on her Swarmsteel glove, and flipped Wisnu off with it. ¡°This ain¡¯t the Attini Empire, bitch. Get off your¡­ fucking ant carriage or something. This is the Hasharana Entrance Exam, and I know for a fact they ain¡¯t looking for softies like you¨C¡± ¡°C-Can we just calm down, girls?¡± Donna said frantically, skipping between the two of them with her arms flailing around. ¡°It¡¯s not in the rules, yes, but it¡¯s also not right, yes! You¡¯re both right! Now can we get back together and actually work as a team¨C¡± ¡°Any Noble-Blood of the Attini Empire who willingly allies with a murderer is no noble at all,¡± Wisnu said, clenching the muscles in her forearms. ¡°I will ask you one last time, Blaire. Did you kill everyone here, or did you not?¡±Stolen novel; please report. Blaire shrugged nonchalantly again. ¡°Who knows? But, you know, the same goes for us Plagueplain Doctors. The high and clean life just ain¡¯t for us. Your beauty as ¡®excellence¡¯ ain¡¯t ubiquitous, and that¡¯s a new word you¡¯ve probably never heard of in your life, you coddled, silver-napkin child¨C¡± Wisnu drew upon her strength and dashed in for a slash.
Dahlia, Emilia, and Muyang chased the Mutant ambrosia beetle across the fungi forest, and, surprisingly, they were gaining steady ground. It wasn¡¯t just because she¡¯d been doing stamina training or because Emilia and Muyang were slowing down just for her¡ªthe ambrosia beetle just wasn¡¯t particularly fast compared to Madamaron, and all three of them were more than fast enough to keep up with it. ¡°The beetle that drags its shell is easy to follow,¡± Emilia said, her glassy cicada wings fluttering behind her as Dahlia and Muyang ran abreast, all of them keeping their eyes on the grey spore trail the jumping beetle was leaving behind. ¡°Well, in its case, it''s more like clouds of spores that it¡¯s not even trying to hide from us. How¡¯d you think it got the jump on so many participants back there if it¡¯s this loud?¡± ¡°It¡¯s¡­ a Mutant,¡± Dahlia mumbled back, nearly tripping on a giant bug carcass as she vaulted over it. ¡°Maybe they just weren¡¯t¡­ prepared for it?¡± ¡°Nonsense,¡± Muyang said, shaking his head in dismay. "True, we may not have known every twist of the exam, but its nature remains unchanged year after year. In the first stage, we hunt the Mutant-Classes as teams; in the second, we face them alone; and in the third, fate deals us an unknown hand. Those who enter this trial must surely know they will face Mutant-Classes. How, then, could they come unprepared?" Dahlia chewed her lips. ¡°So¡­ either they were too weak, or¨C¡± ¡°The Mutant beetle¡¯s too strong,¡± Emilia finished, narrowing her eyes. ¡°Watch your backs, then. It¡¯s probably got a few tricks up its metaphorical sleeves. Wanna bet on whether or not it¡¯s running us into a trap?¡± ¡°I will bet five silvers,¡± Muyang said. ¡°You for or against?¡± ¡°For. Of course.¡± ¡°But I¡¯m also for. What¡¯s the point of a bet if we¡¯re not on opposing sides? Dahlia, how much do you have in your purse?¡± ¡°Uh¡­ but I think we¡¯re running into a trap, too.¡± ¡°You guys are boring.¡± Be that as it may, the three of them eventually burst into a relatively wide clearing, surrounded on all sides by colossal red and blue-capped mushrooms. They screeched to a halt, Muyang¡¯s beetle head screeching louder than all of them combined. Morning sunlight was blaring brightly down on them, but there was a spore filter in the air, warping the light into a sickly, pallid yellowish-green. Definitely not a place suited for humans to take shelter in. While Emilia summoned an amber chime and Muyang squinted at the dark shadows at the edges of the clearing, Dahlia let her antennae wander around in circles, trying to figure out where the beetle had jumped to. Last they saw it, it¡¯d been leaping off the mushroom barks with its tail tucked between its legs¡ªmetaphorically¡ªbut with this spore haze in the air? They¡¯d be lucky to still be breathing ten minutes down the line, let alone five, or three. She felt sick just breathing the spores in. I have my scarf and goggles to protect my face, at least, but Emilia and Muyang don¡¯t have anything. If the Mutant threw us off somehow, then it¡¯s best if we¨C ¡°Oh, I see,¡± Emilia murmured, casually rubbing her throat as she cracked her neck left and right, ringing her chime once, twice, thrice¡ªand the rings reverberated across the clearing, echoing back to Emilia''s ears in seemingly perfect clarity. ¡°That¡¯s how they got the other participants to lower their guard.¡± There was no hiding the flinch that went through Dahlia at that, though the fact that Emilia had warned all of them helped lessen the surprise. When her Dagger Antennae flared and tingled, she instinctively whirled with her firefly bracers crossed in front of her head, and the first Mutant that leapt through a colossal mushroom to slash down at her received an explosion of lightning as a gift. Blue and golden sparks coursed through its chitin as it clicked its tongue and jumped back, skidding along the clearing before it decided to retreat into the shadows. Muyang tried to swing his giant beetle helm at it on the way out, and Emilia most certainly tried to summon her flute again, but both of them were too late¡ªthe second Mutant lunged at their backs from the other side of the clearing, and they coordinated their defences at the same time, Muyang blocking with his beetle helm and Emilia summoning a viola in two of her hands. Now, there were two four-armed ambrosia beetles prowling around the clearing, and taking into account the fact that their chitin armours were eerily smooth and hairy¡ªthey could easily pass for humans clad in full-body Swarmsteel if they lost the beetle heads¡ªit was quite obvious they weren¡¯t going to be at each other¡¯s throats. ¡°... I thought Mutants aren¡¯t big on teamwork?¡± Dahlia whispered, pressing her back to Emilia and Muyang¡¯s as they faced both beetles together. ¡°Unless¡­ they¡¯re of the same species, in which case, they¡¯re more than happy to be buddies. Twins. Mutant twins?¡± ¡°Seems like it,¡± Emilia grumbled, grinning back at her. ¡°But it doesn¡¯t matter. Just stay behind me. Now we know whenever there¡¯s one, there¡¯ll be another, so we can prepare accordingly. They won¡¯t take us off-guard next time.¡± ¡°And about this time?¡± Muyang mumbled, his neck muscles tensing as he rolled his shoulders. ¡°They are still Mutant-Classes, and even with our numbers, it is we who are pressed against the edge of the blade. Tell me, can the two of you join forces to slay one? As for me¡­ alone, I may stand a chance, or perhaps not. Their rank eludes my sight.¡± ¡°Cool. I see you can still talk like that when you¡¯re staring death in the face. You¡¯re less nervous than I thought you¡¯d be.¡± ¡°The same goes for you, Miss Emilia. We strike at the count of three?¡± Emilia nodded. ¡°Two.¡± Dahlia blinked. ¡°Wait. I don¡¯t think this is a fight we wanna take¨C¡± And a loud boom from right beyond the edges of the clearing startled both Mutant beetles, their heads snapping over to see the source of the commotion¡ªand then they immediately leapt away. For good reason, too; Muyang picked the two of them up by their collars and tossed them back without any effort as a horde of about a hundred Giant-Class bugs smashed through the forest, pouring into the clearing with ear-shattering screeches filling the air. If it were just the bugs, the Mutants probably wouldn¡¯t have run, but it was who was already fighting on the bugs that rattled them. Those are¡­ other participants? There were two, four, six of them. Two other full teams. A middle-aged couple in silver-plated robes wielded giant bone saws and jagged daggers, hacking and slashing through the dense mass of giant bugs pouring around them. Above them, a younger boy in a thick fur coat wobbled on a thick mushroom branch, aiming a crude pipe-like weapon down at the bugs. Judging by how they were all working together to clear out the bugs, they were probably on the same team. Dahlia couldn¡¯t say the same for the other team. On the other side of the clearing, a fierce duel unfolded atop the wave of giant bugs. A pretty lady in regal, feathery, and geometric-patterned attire clashed against another masked lady, and her toxic black and green cloak billowing like raven wings stood out in stark contrast. It was a giant rectangular blade against glowing syringes attached to claws. Noble and elegant bladework against wild, feral slashes. They leapt nimbly from bug to bug, desperately trying to kill each other, and the bugs they decimated in the process were mere side-effects. They only had eyes for each other, and¡­ there was also a third lady running after them on foot, shouting and waving at them to direct their fighting spirit on the bugs instead. Of course, directing their fighting spirit on the approaching bugs was something Dahlia, Emilia, and Muyang should be doing as well. Half the clearing was already flooded with crawling, bleeding, screeching giants¡ªthey couldn¡¯t really run from this, and frankly, Dahlia didn¡¯t think her teammates wanted to run from this. ¡­ Welp. This is going to get really confusing, really quickly. Chapter 73 - Chaos Dahlia expected chaos, but she didn¡¯t expect chaos. A wave of a hundred Giant-Class bugs crashed into the clearing, breaking the forest around them, and the nine participants caught in the way scattered in every direction¡ªincluding her. Locust greaves boosting her speed, she bounced over a small group of giant ants and onto a mushroom branch, taking the high ground. Emilia and Muyang had no such need to retreat. The cicada girl summoned her blood amber flute again to play a sharp rhythm, and the man dunked the beetle helm over his own head, slamming the ground with his horns. The miniature earthquake almost shook Dahlia off her branch. It decimated the muddy ground below her, causing half a dozen giant bugs to fall into chasms, and the bugs that didn¡¯t fall in had their heads sliced off by Emilia''s flute notes. Ten down. Ninety more to go. Dahlia grimaced as two giant beetles crawled up her mushroom, horns cleaving through the bark and forcing her to jump even further up. On second thought, though, she sucked in a sharp breath and narrowed her eyes¡ªshe could see the steel threads showing her how to dismantle the bugs. In fact, she could see the threads twirling and connecting to every single bug in the clearing. None of them were particularly powerful. All they had was overwhelming numbers, but if it was just the two below her? Even she could deal with them. The two beetles seemed just as surprised as she suddenly pounced down, four claws reared back, and smashed into the closest one¡¯s head with a cross-slash. Blood exploded in her face. She jammed her feet between its chitin plates so she wouldn¡¯t fall off. Down and down they went and crashed into the other beetle on the way, her claws following the steel threads to rip the bug¡¯s head open, and then she leapt onto the other one to dismantle its horn as well, using it to impale its own skull. By the time it slammed into the earth below, its body was already completely broken. She collapsed to one knee atop the beetle¡¯s carcass, her breaths heavy. That was the first time she¡¯d fought so decisively, and the first time she¡¯d killed a giant bug so¡­ so easily. She had gotten stronger. ¡­ But this is still a pointless fight, isn¡¯t it? Her kill count was two, Muyang was six, and Emilia a bit more than that, but there were still dozens more of them rampaging around the clearing. If not for the other six participants, they¡¯d already be overrun by now. She looked to the left and saw the middle-aged couple in silver-plated robes cutting through swathes of hornets and moths, their feet moving like clockwork. Their giant bone saws glittered silver as they swung in perfect sync. The man would swerve to the right for a dodge, and the lady would swoop in to counterattack. The lady would circle around a giant bug as a distraction, and the man would jump and slam down for the finishing blow. Every swing and every block did not go to waste. Not a single bug landed a hit on them, and they weren¡¯t even really looking at each other; it was as if they could reach each other¡¯s minds mid-battle, and Dahlia was reminded of Ayla and Aylee back in Alshifa. Telepathic twins. Years and decades of training. Incredible teamwork. So they¡¯re in the same team, and¡­ Her eyes wandered up, and it took her a while to locate him, but it wasn¡¯t him she spotted first. It was the glint of a barrel. It was the sound of metal being loaded into metal, then a slide being pulled back, and then¡ªcrack. A projectile. Two, four, six blurry silver projectiles ricocheted around giant bugs trying to get the jump on the couple¡¯s backs, and each projectile was fired with pinpoint accuracy, tearing through the bugs¡¯ skulls in a single shot. The blond-haired boy in the thick fur coat reloaded his weapon from atop a mushroom branch, and he had glowing blue eyes behind his dragonfly goggles. Swarmsteel. The ranged weapon in his hands was probably one, too. A sharpshooter in the same team as the couple. The couple fights the giant bugs on the ground, and he snipes down anything trying to interrupt their dance. The three of them were on the left side of the clearing. On the right side, though, she wasn¡¯t even sure if the other three could be called a ¡®team¡¯. Giant bugs crawled and climbed over each other as they tried to snap at the two ladies fighting each other: one wielded a rectangular greatsword lined with triangular obsidian edges, and the other had ten glowing syringes for claws. One was dressed in regal, colourful attire befitting a noble swordswoman, and the other was clad in a raven-black cloak with a mosquito mask over her lower jaw, looking like a shady back-alley doctor. Neither seemed to realise they were here to kill bugs. With every swing from the methodical swordswoman, half a dozen giant bugs caught in the way would be split in half, and with every jab the nimble doctor missed with her syringes, another half a dozen would melt away in acidic heat. They were fast to boot, too. They darted from one end of the clearing to another at speeds Dahlia couldn¡¯t follow with her naked eyes, and¡­ she just felt bad for their third teammate. If they just turned their focus onto the bugs instead of each other, they wouldn¡¯t have to let their teammate fend for herself in the corner with a giant axe, screaming at the two to work together just once. Glad I¡¯m not in that team, I¡­ guess.Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site. They seem¡­ She was about to finish her thought with ¡®violent¡¯, but it wasn¡¯t like Muyang and Emilia were much better. She¡¯d never actually seen them fight before today, but now, they didn¡¯t have to hold back. Wearing his oversized giant beetle head like a helmet, Muyang stomped and charged and spun in place, performing a dance of death as his horns gored through every bug in his way. Just a few strides away, Emilia summoned and switched between half a dozen instruments made out of her own blood every few seconds, and every instrument she played seemed to have a different effect. When she blew into her flute at a full surround of bugs, a forceful, invisible gust of wind would slice all of them apart. When she switched to her violin and drew a bouncy rhythm, an aura of dissonance would make every bug around her screech in pain. When she switched to her trumpet and blew in Muyang''s direction, it was like his already massive muscles got an even massive boost of strength and toughness. A giant mantis tried to claw at his back, but its scythe bounced off his bare skin and Muyang immediately whirled in surprise, jumping to kick the mantis'' head off. She¡¯d no idea what all of their abilities really were, but they were powerful as all hell. [... In¨C I^%9&n¡­ !NdeeD. Given they¡¯ve all survived three days in this forest teeming with bugs, it¡¯s a given they¡¯re all incredibly powerful in their own right.] Her eyes widened as Kari¡¯s voice stuttered in her head, and, without looking, she uppercutted a giant ant with her claws as it tried to lunge for her back. Kari! You¡¯re¨C [Sorry,] Kari muttered, appearing on her shoulder and dipping its head slightly. [There is a barrier over the forest that automatically disables any Archive within the area, so it took me a while to figure out how to get around it.] I knew it! You got around it because you¡¯re not just an Archive anymore, right? [Yep. In any case, stop gawking at everyone and run. Grab Muyang and Emilia and return to your fungi shelter.] What? Why¨C She got her answer half a second later when a giant shadow fluttered overhead, plunging the entire clearing into darkness. It took her only half a second longer to register what was going to happen, and she dashed forward with her locust greaves, tackling Emilia out of the way as two glowing eyes shot a thick beam of fire down on all of them. The two of them flew headfirst into a shrub while Muyang curled up inside his giant beetle head, using it as a shelter while the fire vaporised everything else¡ªnot a single giant bug even had the opportunity to scream as they turned to ash. Red hot energy exploded outwards from the point of impact, throwing the participants back, and the entire clearing turned into a hellscape of fire and smoke. For her part, Dahlia recovered quickly and dragged Emilia out of the shrub. Muyang popped out of his giant beetle head moments later, all of them wincing and shying away from the oppressive waves of heat. The sun moth was still perched overhead, sitting on top of a giant mushroom cap as its eyes glowed again¡ªreadying for a second shot. ¡°... That¡¯s all for today! I''m tired! We¡¯re not hunting the Mutants anymore!¡± Emilia shouted, grabbing Dahlia by the collar and dragging her back alongside Muyang. The sun moth fired, but not at them; Dahlia held her breath as the pillar of flames decimated a chunk of the forest where she last saw the couple¡¯s team. [They¡¯ll be fine,] Kari muttered. [They¡¯re Symbiote Exorcists and a Pioneer from the Rampaging Hinterland Front. They won¡¯t die as long as they don¡¯t get hit by the beam directly.] Sure looks like they got hit directly to¨C A second pillar of flames shot down at the other end of the forest, where the other team was, and Muyang picked both of them up by the waist so he could sprint them away even quicker. [The Noble-Blood and the Plagueplain Doctor will be fine as well,] Kari reassured. [The Mutant-Class sun moth has incredible destructive potential, but it¡¯s quite clumsy and sluggish. Outrunning it won¡¯t be difficult at all. Just don¡¯t ever engage it in a full-frontal fight, because you will lose in a battle of pure power.] Dahlia wasn¡¯t planning on fighting the sun moth, but it was still nail-bitingly terrifying to know it wasn¡¯t just the Mutants she had to worry about in the exam. The other participants are strong as well. Are they gonna try to kill us if they come across us? Kari shrugged. [It wouldn¡¯t be the Hasharana Entrance Exam if you didn¡¯t have to look both ways before crossing the street.] Not reassuring at all. At least Muyang was a fast runner, and as he literally carried them a hundred, two hundred, three hundred metres deep into the fungi forest¡ªnot even breaking a single sweat¡ªEmilia glanced behind them to see if anything was following them. The hellfire wrought upon the clearing was but a glowing dot in the distance now, and Dahlia¡¯s antennae didn¡¯t tingle in response to any bugs in pursuit. She couldn¡¯t detect any humans following them, either, so she let out a small sigh of relief as they managed to disengage from the chaos. ¡°... At least we know what and who we¡¯re dealing with,¡± Emilia said, rattling off names as she lifted eight fingers. ¡°One Pioneer from the Rampaging Hinterland Front, a Noble-Blood from the Attini Empire Front, a Plagueplain Doctor and two Symbiote Exorcists from the Plagueplain Front, a Tamera Mercenary, and three Mutant-Class bugs: two of which are ambrosia beetles working together. We¡¯ll spend the next week or two relaxing, preparing, and planning how to beat them down, yeah?¡± ¡°I believe we might be the strongest three teams in the entire exam,¡± Muyang said, slowing down once he realised they weren¡¯t being pursued as well. He still didn¡¯t let the two of them go, but instead he flung them onto his giant beetle helm, letting them ride atop it as he dragged it across the forest by the horns. ¡°The Plagueplain Doctor aside, the sharpshooter Pioneer appears to have a modicum of skill with his rifle. Should we encounter his team and they decide to lash out in hostility, we must focus on taking him down first.¡± Emilia agreed with a firm nod, but Dahlia, sitting cross-legged on the giant beetle helm, was getting rocked around a little as she frowned at the two of them. ¡°I¡­ thought we weren¡¯t going to fight humans,¡± she said. ¡°I don¡¯t¡­ I still don¡¯t want to¨C¡± ¡°Well, we¡¯re not gonna kill them.¡± Emilia sighed, dissolving all of her instruments and reabsorbing the swirls of amber blood back under her nails. ¡°But if they do decide to attack us, we¡¯ll have to fight back. I can guarantee you the three Plagueplain folk wouldn¡¯t hesitate to kill us if we¡¯re getting in their way.¡± Muyang hummed back in response, and Dahlia looked between the two of them for a few more seconds before rolling her shoulders, scratching her arms to relax. At least her teammates weren¡¯t bloodthirsty for other humans. ¡°But when you say we should prepare and plan how to kill the ambrosia beetles¡­¡± Dahlia started, chewing her nails as she glanced around nervously. ¡°There¡¯s three of us, but they¡¯re two Mutants. How do we even fight two Mutants at once?¡± Emilia threw her a cheery, confident smile. ¡°We all have Swarmsteel Systems here, don¡¯t we?¡± she said, thumbing at a nearby horde of giant bugs to their left. ¡°We¡¯ve been ignoring it for the past three days thanks to a certain someone who got too caught up renovating a temporary shelter, so let¡¯s do what we can¡¯t do nearly anywhere on the continent¡ªlet''s relax and have a feast for weeks!¡± Chapter 74 - Feast The night of the third day of the exam was a raging, frightening one. Dahlia didn¡¯t have access to the raw numbers, but by Kari¡¯s estimation, at least a third of the participants had already fallen prey to the tag-team Mutant combo, and a few must¡¯ve been blasted to shreds by the giant sun moth as well. Those sections of the fungi forest where the sun moth had fired upon were probably razed to the ground already¡ªthe arena was shrinking by the day. Not quickly, but not slowly. They still had a month left. The bugs knew this, too. Though at least two-thirds of the bugs in the forest have already fallen by Kari¡¯s estimation again, the remaining ones were tenacious, evasive, and ferocious. Tonight was the first night the forest came to life. Even well after the sun had already fallen over the horizon, the sounds of blades clashing against chitin, screams and screeches tearing into the night came to Dahlia loud and clear. People were fighting outside. Dying outside. The bugs were making their move, and those who¡¯d been so complacent as to believe they could sleep without a roof were now facing the consequences. Said consequences didn¡¯t apply to the three of them, though, who¡¯d dug a pit in the centre of their mushroom hollow and set it aflame. Warm, she thought, sitting cross-legged by the edge of the pit with her palms facing the flames, orange light basking the hollow in a gentle glow. And I¡¯d have thought nights in a humid forest like this would be a lot warmer. [Well, this isn¡¯t a normal fungi forest. It¡¯s artificially seeded, artificially cultivated, and the Worm God must¡¯ve pulled a few tricks to make this sprout in the middle of a desert as well. You must be glad you have a heater tonight.] I didn¡¯t need it the past two nights. [You didn¡¯t know you needed it. You¡¯ll have much better sleep with this fire pit around.] It was true she felt a lot warmer in the otherwise cold and relatively unfamiliar hollow, and it was also true her tastes were changing. She¡¯d thought about this before, but she was getting used to the scent of cooked insect flesh really, really fast. While she warmed her hands up by the pit, Muyang and Emilia each held a makeshift fishing rod, dangling de-chitined giant beetle legs over the fire. They didn¡¯t have salt or any seasonings to make their meals taste good, but still, there was a small mountain of empty chitin plates behind them¡ªbetween the three of them, they must¡¯ve cleaned out and eaten well over fifty giant bug legs already. Muyang was one thing, big and strong and physically imposing as he was; the amount of meat Emilia could stuff in her tiny stomach made Dahlia feel inadequate.
[Name: Dahlia Sina] [Grade: A-Rank Giant-Class] [Class: Assassin Bug] [Swarmblood Art: Recollection] [Swarmblood Aura: 969 (+215)] [Points: 128] [Strength: 4 (+3), Speed: 4 (+1), Toughness: 5 (+3), Dexterity: 4 (+1), Perception: 4 (+1)] [// MUTATION TREE] [T1 Mutation | Swarmguard Deity Lvl: 4] [T2 Mutations | Basic Chitin Lvl: 3 | Basic Antennae Lvl: 4] [T3 Mutations | Basic Claws | Stridulating Throat | Basic Setae] 150P [// EQUIPPED SWARMSTEEL] [Assassin Bug Claw Gauntlets (Grade: C-Rank)(Str: +2/3)(Dex: +1/2)(Aura: +120/300)] [Adaptable Desert Locust Greaves (Grade: E-Rank)(Spd +1/1](Tou +2/2)(Aura: +35/60)] [Glasswing Butterfly Goggles (Grade: F-Rank)(Per: +1/1)(Aura: +10/10)] [Adaptable Firefly Bracers (Grade: C-Rank)(Str: +1/2)(Tou: +0/1)(Aura: +30/250)] [Adaptable Antlion Cloak (Grade: E-Rank)(Spd: +1/1)(Tou: +1/2)(Aura +20/120)]
¡­ I¡¯m sick of this, Kari. [Want me to numb your stomach aches so you can eat a few more legs?] I mean¡­ the legs taste bland, she grumbled, reluctantly reaching behind her, hooking a fleshy bug leg onto her rod, and then dangling it over the pit. Uncle Safi¡¯s meals are a hundred times better. Seriously. How does he do it? [I thought you got used to eating insect flesh?] I think I got used to eating meat cooked by Uncle Safi. When it¡¯s gooey and slimy and bland like this, I¡­ still want to puke a little, I guess. [Better bring him a few gifts of gratitude once you get back, then.] She would. She¡¯d been grossly underestimating how much of the legwork came from actually putting effort into how a dish was prepared, but as things stood, neither her, Muyang, nor Emilia could whip out anything even a fraction as good as Safi¡¯s dishes. In Emilia¡¯s words, the best she could do was ¡®half-decent¡¯, so they¡¯d just have to make do with what they had. And they had a lot of points just sitting behind them. ¡°I assume¡­ we¡¯re going to do nothing but eat for the next two weeks?¡± she asked, reeling in the thin strand of an ant leg before forcing herself to gnaw on it, her tongue steaming from the heat. Emilia shrugged, reeling in her leg as well. ¡°We know what we¡¯re hunting. Two Mutant-Class ambrosia beetles working in tandem. The arena shrinks every time that sun moth fires and burns down another grove, so sooner or later, we will meet again. There¡¯ll be nowhere for us and them to run to.¡± Then she plugged her nose and forced herself to chew on her leg as well, swallowing hard gulps. ¡°Might as well bulk up our attributes instead of going on a wild goose chase across the forest. Where else can you hunt thousands of free-range Giant-Class bugs in a mostly enclosed area? It¡¯s a point heaven for those of us with insect classes.¡± ¡°But if we just sit here and eat, people will¨C¡± ¡°They¡¯ll weaken the Mutants for us.¡± ¡°They¡¯ll strengthen the Mutants for us,¡± Dahlia finished, looking at Emilia sternly. ¡°Bugs eat us, too. If we only hunt what we can eat, people will die, and that means the bugs¡ªthe Mutants, by extension¡ªwill also grow stronger. Worry. Aren¡¯t you afraid of that outcome?¡± ¡°Then we hunt more Giant-Class bugs that we can eat, but we cannot fight the Mutant-Classes as we are now,¡± Muyang said, in between shoving fistfuls of crushed bug flesh into his mouth; quite an undignified manner of eating compared to his straight-laced sitting posture. ¡°Both of you are correct, but Miss Emilia is even more correct. I sincerely believe we could each take on a Mutant-Class as we are now, but two of them disturbs the flow of battle. Their danger level has not doubled, but quadrupled. We must be vastly stronger than them if we wish to slaughter them.¡± ¡°And it¡¯ll do nobody any good if we rush in to help another team against the Mutants, get hurt ourselves, and then die afterwards.¡± Emlia sighed, tossing her rod behind her as she lay flat on her back, four arms crossed behind her head. ¡°We¡¯ll help out the other participants by killing as many Giant-Class bugs as we can, but we¡¯re staying the hell away from those Mutants until we¡¯re more than strong enough to deal with them. That good enough for you, radish girl?¡± Dahlia frowned. ¡°I have a name.¡± ¡°I know,¡± Emilia said quickly, closing one eye to stare at her with the other. ¡°But I still don¡¯t know what you are.¡±Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. ¡­ The mood in the hollow turned very giddy very quickly as Emilia shot upright, cross-legged, drumming the ground with her palms. ¡°What¡¯s your class?¡± she asked, grinning from ear to ear. [Don¡¯t tell her.] ¡°I see the sharp antennae, so probably a predator insect,¡± she said, stroking a pair of invisible antennae she didn¡¯t have, ¡°but I also see four arms, black chitin with gold stripes, and your eyes¡­ well, I don¡¯t know if you were born with golden eyes, but I¡¯m assuming not.¡± [You assume wrong,] Kari huffed, crossing its legs on her shoulder defiantly. [You don¡¯t know anything about Dahlia. She¡¯s my master¨C] ¡°It¡¯s gotta be an extinct bug, then,¡± she murmured, stroking her chin as she tilted her head left and right. ¡°I should know what you are, but I don¡¯t. You¡¯re something rare. Something I haven¡¯t seen in the Amadeus Academy Almanac of Bugs before. Are you a¨C¡± ¡°Almanac?¡± Dahlia said, returning a head tilt in the opposite direction, eyes widening. ¡°Is that¡­ an encyclopaedia of sorts? About bugs?¡± ¡°Yeah. Uncle Julius wrote it.¡± ¡°Does it have¡­¡± Her hands started moving around, shaping an invisible book as she licked her lips, trying to remember the feeling. ¡°Black leather cover, two braided cords, ridged spine, and eight hundred pages with hand-drawn illustrations every two pages?¡± Emilia raised a brow. ¡°That¡¯s the one. What, did you¨C¡± ¡°My mom used to have it!¡± she said, clapping her hands excitedly. ¡°She called it¡­ um, she called it the ¡®Bug Encyclopaedia¡¯ because the title was worn off, but she must¡¯ve gotten it from a travelling merchant who got it from¡­ what¡¯d you call it again?¡± ¡°Amadeus Academy?¡± ¡°Yeah! And I read that book all the time!¡± ¡°That¡¯s a lie,¡± Emilia said, yawning as she kicked back again. ¡°What¡¯s the bug on page seven hundred and eight¨C¡± ¡°It¡¯s not a singular bug! It¡¯s the beginning of the cicada section that goes over all three thousand species of cicadas within just ten pages! Most of those pages were allocated to the ¡®magicicada¡¯ genus, though, since they¡¯re really powerful bugs on the surface or something?¡± ¡°... Huh.¡± Emilia closed her eyes, humming faintly. ¡°Do you think I have a some sort of Cicada Class, then?¡± Dahlia blinked at her, then at Muyang, then came to the long overdue realisation: in actuality, she knew next to nothing about her teammates. ¡°I¡­ think so?¡± she said, tilting her head quizzically. ¡°Back there in the clearing, when you summoned your instruments¨C¡± ¡°I have a Cicada Class,¡± Emilia said plainly, raising two of her hands and summoning swirls of amber blood that immediately coagulated into a flute. ¡°My mutations are weak and unimportant compared to my Swarmblood Art, which is ''Symphonic Array''. Basically, I can summon seven different instruments with my Swarmblood, and each of them has a different effect when I play them." Then she pressed her flute to her lips and dribbled out a short, sharp note. Dahlia couldn''t see the projectile, but it was like the musical note immediately whipped out the end of her flute and shot straight at the tree to her side, invisible claw marks shredding the bark. "My flute produces cutting sounds. My violin produces an aura of dissonance that hurts bugs around me. My viola produces a sound barrier around me. My harp produces a lullaby rhythm that lulls people to sleep. My trumpet physically toughens anyone who hears my rhythm, my chimes produce intense flashes of blinding light when I ring them, and my timpani lets me create shockwaves that deal great impact damage. That last one''s unwieldy to use, though, so I basically never summon it." Dahlia blinked again. She can.... what? She can summon instruments? Isn''t that¨C [She''s one of them,] Kari mused. [Remember the Cicada Musicians of the Long March patrolling the outskirts of the City of Feasts? She has the Cicada Class.] [I do not know what a Cicada Musician of another bug-slaying organisation is doing taking the Hasharana Entrance Exam, though. She is already a qualified bug-slayer in her own rights.] Muyang raised a curious brow just as Dahlia did, and he rapped the giant beetle head he was leaning against with a knuckle, making hollow thuds against the hard chitin. ¡°And I have but a humble Stag Beetle Class, unworthy of any particular mention,¡± he said, dipping his head at Emilia. ¡°I am purely strong, tough, and fast. Please feel free to use me for manual labour as you please. If there is a wall you need to be bash through, I will don my beetle head and charge forward without question¨C¡± ¡°You''re anything ¡®but¡¯ a simple man with a Beetle Class,¡± Emilia muttered, waving him off dismissively. ¡°You''re hiding your real strength, and so is radish girl¡ªso does anyone feel like sharing what they''re really trying to get out of taking this exam?¡± The mood turned tense and sour very, very quickly again. Dahlia could say what she wanted to get out of this exam in heartbeat¡ªshe just wanted Kari to be officially registered so she wouldn''t have to live the rest of her life with a dangling knife over her head, fearing persecution by the Hasharana¡ªbut was being a Hasharana not the end goal for other participants as well? [Not exactly,] Kari murmured. [While being a Hasharana comes with great benefits¡ªthe Archive is ninety percent of that¡ªit¡¯s quite rare that people participate in these high-risk exams for the sole purpose of being better at slaying bugs.] What do you mean? [If all you want is to slay bugs, you could join any other bug-slaying faction in the world. The militaries of the Swarmsteel Fronts would be glad to take anyone in. They¡¯d actually train you, they¡¯d actually house you, they¡¯d actually give you¡­ well, a relatively stable job. They¡¯ll recognise you for your deeds, give you a steady income, and allow you to start a family with a proper household. They wouldn¡¯t put you through an exam where ninety percent of participants die in the first round.] And how¡¯s the Hasharana different from them? Kari raised a pointed leg. [The Hasharana may be an organisation of wandering bug-slayers, but for all intents and purposes, the Hasharana are individualistic people. They don¡¯t often work with each other because they¡¯re almost always sent out on solo missions. That means you don¡¯t get any help on the field, but in return, anything you obtain is all yours¡ªyou don¡¯t have to give it back to the organisation.] ¡­ The points. Kari nodded. [Most other factions make their soldiers share any points they obtain with each other. They are, after all, proper armies and militant factions. They value strength in unity, coordination, and strategic formation. Sure, their generals and high-ranking warriors would usually be allocated more points than the rank-and-file grunts, but if a battalion of three hundred soldiers wipes out a brood nest of three hundred bugs, each of them would only get a single bug¡¯s worth of points.] But if a Hasharana wipes out a brood nest alone, they get everything. [And so the Hasharana grows much stronger, much faster,] Kari finished. [Now, what type of person do you think this sort of growth appeals to?] [People who wish for stability, or people with ambitions so grand they feel they can¡¯t achieve it without an Archive nagging them in their heads?] She gulped, stealing a glance at her teammates. Muyang sat stoically with his eyes closed, his hands clasped in his lap as though he were meditating, while Emilia continued humming a gentle song to herself. It was true the two of them seemed rather sane compared to the other two teams she¡¯d seen earlier this morning, but¡­ [... Aren¡¯t you the same?] [Becoming a Hasharana is just a stepping stone for you to eventually make your own home¡ªyour own destiny¡ªand ¡®free¡¯ yourself from the Swarm.] [You¡¯re trying to destroy the Swarm.] A pause. Then Kari shrugged, laying to rest on her shoulder. [They may be secretive, but I don¡¯t believe you have to worry about them.] [Somehow, I doubt both of their ambitions combined are half as delusional as yours.] ¡­ Dahlia laughed quietly, shaking her head in dismay. ¡°I already have my hands full trying to understand Alice, and now you¡¯re telling me I¡¯ll need even more hands to understand the two of them?¡± she whispered under her breath, making both Muyang and Emilia look at her pointedly. She returned them a steady, unwavering gaze; neither denying nor accepting. ¡°I¡¯d love to get to know the two of you better, but we can share our backstories after we pass this first stage. I don¡¯t think not knowing what we each want out of passing this exam means we can¡¯t work together. Even if I don¡¯t want to tell you my class, I¡­ I want to trust you guys, and I want you guys to trust me as well.¡± Was it a lot to ask? Sure it was. But they¡¯d already gotten through one chaotic mess of a fight together, and if nothing else, Dahlia thought they worked pretty well to survive together. She extended two hands¡ªone to Muyang on her left, the other to Emilia on her right¡ªand dipped her head in a show of gratitude. ¡°I¡¯m Dahlia Sina of the Alshifa Undertown. I¡¯m here to kill bugs, and¡­ um, if you can¡¯t tell by the Swarmsteel I¡¯m wearing all over, I¡¯m also good at making stuff,¡± she said, closing her eyes softly. ¡°Let¡¯s all go out after this exam and talk.¡± Her teammates looked at her for a long time, their mouths grim¡ªthen they both shook her hands again, and unlike their first time doing so right after stepping through the wormhole, they were all on board with her ¡®going out afterwards¡¯ idea. ¡°I am Muyang, fourth son of the Firegourd Wu Clan, and I like to dance with my giant beetle head,¡± Muyang said, the slightest of smiles curling his lips. ¡°External motivations to pass the exam aside, I, too, am here to kill bugs. We can always agree on that.¡± ¡°And I¡¯m Emilia, Cicada Musician. I''m just here to pass the exam,¡± Emilia muttered, shooting Dahlia a lazy wink. ¡°But I will figure you out before the end of the month. I swear this on my pride as a student of Amadeus Academy, the very best academic institution in the world.¡± Dahlia grumbled. ¡°Get in line. Alice says the same thing over and over¨C¡± ¡°Who¡¯s Alice?¡± ¡°And who are you?¡± Muyang countered, tossing an empty leg shell at her head. ¡°Miss Dahlia introduced herself properly. Given name and household name. You are Miss Emilia of which household?¡± Emilia scowled, leaned back, and made a big show of yawning. ¡°Just Emilia. What¡¯s my household name matter to you? You¡¯re Muyang¡ªthat¡¯s also one word.¡± ¡°But I introduced my household to you. I am the fourth son of the Firegourd Wu Clan¨C¡± ¡°None of your business. Don¡¯t care. Not telling you. If Dahlia tells me her class and you show me your real strength, I¡¯ll tell you my household name.¡± Disagreement. Argument. While Dahlia stood up and tidied the mounds of hollow chitin shells with a broom, Emilia drew a slow note with her viola to knock the big man back with a sound barrier, and the two started squabbling at the back of the hollow. For her part, she was actually just a bit tired¡ªshe¡¯d eaten more than her fill of insect flesh today, and if they were going to be hunting and eating the exact same things over and over again for the next two weeks, she might as well go to bed early and prepare for tomorrow. She had tons of Swarmsteel she wanted to try making, after all. [... You have strong teammates.] She paused mid-sweep with her broom, glancing at Kari with a small smile. That¡¯s the fourth time you¡¯ve said that. Chapter 75 - Whittled Numbers Two more weeks passed, and by now, two-thirds of the giant fungi forest had been set ablaze, reduced to cinders. The sands of the Sharaji Desert swept over the ravaged sections of the forest, and with the shrinking of the arena, so, too, had the combined killing pressure of all living beings in the forest weakened drastically. It was ten in the morning. Sunlight cut through the mushroom canopy in bright, hard shafts. Cicadas screamed all around as Otto ran for his life, marksman rifle in hand, Swarmsteel satchel on his back. The loose components rattled inside his satchel as he vaulted over a fallen log and immediately ducked for cover, clamping his hand over his mouth. He didn¡¯t make a move, he didn¡¯t make a sound; sweat poured down his brow as he listened to the two pairs of footsteps barrelling down the path he¡¯d been set on. If he¡¯d kept running, he would¡¯ve been caught by them already. Shit! Those two¡­ He was part of the culling. His team had everything going for them¡ªstrong members, powerful Swarmsteel, a perfect hideout¡ªbut none of that mattered in the face of two Mutant-Class beetles with immaculate teamwork. The three of them had spent two whole weeks hunting Giant-Class bugs, raising their attributes, unlocking new mutations, and increasing their killing pressures, but the one thing they never put any effort into was their synergy. The two Symbiote Exorcists could fight alongside each other well enough, but he¡¯d always been cut out of any important conversations, and now? The two Symbiote Exorcists were dead¡ªtheir heads torn off by the twin Mutant-Class beetles¡ªand if he didn¡¯t stay deathly still, he¡¯d be the next to go. God¡­ damnit. I told you guys we needed to team up with another group. As he pressed his back against the log, squeezing his eyes shut, he listened to the rapid thumps of earth just a few strides away¡ªthe twin beetles were racing past his log in pursuit of another target. Not him. They¡¯d been chasing him just moments earlier, but in their eyes, the fungi forest probably wasn¡¯t lack of any juicy targets. He gritted his teeth and tried not to shiver. By running the way he did, he might¡¯ve led another the beetles straight into another group, and judging by the muted screams and shouts in the far distance, the beetles might¡¯ve forgotten all about him already. He had no idea how many groups were still alive. He¡¯d realised about a week ago, after his group came upon a spore-decayed site of massacre, that defeating the twin beetles with only three members was probably impossible. They were too coordinated. Their movements were too erratic. They could burrow through earth and mushroom trees to pounce at unsuspecting prey from any angle in this colossal forest, and he still had no clue what their Swarmblood Art could be. Maybe they didn¡¯t even need to use their signature magic to dispatch all of them. And the three of us even had them cornered at one point. We surrounded them around a single mushroom tree, blew off an arm from each of them, and drew out all of their stamina. They couldn¡¯t have been faking their exhaustion. That chest heaving and that drooling had to be real. So how did they recover so quickly? They jumped into the mushroom tree, ate their way up, and within ten seconds they burst back out with completely rejuvenated bodies. They even regenerated their lost arms to boot. Was that their Swarmblood Art? What could it possibly¡­ ¡­ ¡­ No doubt about it now, though, he thought, biting his lips as he peeled one eye open, peeking over the log to see if the beetles had gone. The Sun arranged three people in one team because it¡¯s just the right number to make us think we have the number¡¯s advantage, when in fact, it¡¯s not nearly enough to make up for the sheer power difference. Did she want teams to jump at the twin beetles thinking they have an advantage? A cruel exam. A violent exam. There were a hundred words he could use to describe the nature of the Sun¡¯s trial, but everyone registered and participated of their own volition. They knew coming into this that there had to be a reason why an average of ninety percent of all participants would ¡®drop out¡¯ in the first stage. Otto was no different¡ªhe hadn¡¯t come all the way here from the Rampaging Hinterland Front to bemoan the recruiting tactics of the Hasharana. He had to move. The tension in the air made him grimace as he stood up straight, looking around one last time to see if there were any eyes on his back. Once he determined he was alone, he took a deep breath and pulled down his dragonfly goggles, turning the dial on the side to activate its coloured pheromone vision. He squinted; he zoomed in with his left lenses; his eyes caught a poisonous green smoke column rising above the canopy a few hundred metres in the distance. Blinking painfully, he immediately switched off the pheromone vision and pulled his goggles up¡ªhe couldn¡¯t use that vision for too long or he¡¯d damage his eyes¡ªbut if nothing else, he was a decent tracker. He remembered exactly where that column was, and now that he had a destination to reach, no amount of chasing or being chased would rattle the navigation data in his head. Without hesitation, he began sprinting across the forest towards the source of the smoke column. What do I even say to them, though? ¡®Sorry, my teammates just died because they weren¡¯t strong enough despite being warriors infamous for fighting in pairs, and I ran away by myself because I realised it was a doomed fight¡¯? It¡¯s fine if they think I¡¯m a weakling. It¡¯s worse if they think I¡¯m an untrustworthy coward, and that¡­ ¡­ Maybe he was a coward. There was a reason why Hasharana don¡¯t tend to be long-ranged fighters. They were the wandering bug-slayers of the continent, and getting their hands dirty down in the nitty-gritty was part of the job. A boy like him who preferred staying far and away from any bugs so he could snipe them down from a distance simply wasn¡¯t the ¡®ideal¡¯ Hasharana, and it certainly wasn¡¯t what people would imagine if they were told a Hasharana was coming to rid their town or borough of their bug infestation.The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. What would he say if his skillset were questioned by the other team? They¡¯d ask him what he could offer by joining up with their team, and he was supposed to say¡­ long-range support? Against those beetles? Nope. Not a chance in hell my bullets will even come close to hitting those Mutants. In that case¨C He screeched to a halt when a loud thud resounded across the forest, and he threw himself behind a colossal mushroom trunk as something sharp and heavy slammed into a distant tree. An obsidian-edged sawtooth blade. Rifle shaking slightly in his hands, he peeked out the side of the tree and narrowed his eyes at the pair in the small clearing¡ªhe recognised the two of them in an instant. One was a Noble-Blood from the Attini Empire in regal, feathery attire, and the other was a raven-cloaked Plagueplain Doctor in a mosquito mask. They were there two weeks ago when his team first encountered the twin beetles, and just like back then, the two were arguing about¡­ something. It was difficult to make out what they were saying from a distance, so he pulled up his wax moth earmuffs and turned the dial on the right, magnifying every sound in the forest. It was immediately apparent to him that there were just the two of them; their third teammate was nowhere to be found. ¡°... You left her for dead,¡± the noble mumbled, clutching her bloody stomach as she leaned against her sawtooth blade wedged into a giant tree. ¡°You had a choice¡­ to save her or take a risky, killing shot at the Mutant-Class¡­ but you chose to¨C¡± ¡°She was already dead either way,¡± the doctor growled back, and she was just as bruised, battered, and bloodied¡ªher syringe claws were stabbed into the same tree as she hung onto it for support, glaring straight at the noble. ¡°You know, if you want to be a hero so much, why not just leave me the fuck alone and go buddy up with another team? I¡¯m sure they¡¯ll be very receptive to a Noble-Blood like you¨C¡± ¡°We were teammates, Blaire,¡± the noble growled, ripping her sawtooth blade down through the tree as she stumbled, trying to regain her footing. ¡°We may not¡­ have known her for long¡­ but she was our teammate. Between killing a bug and saving a human¡­ you would choose the bug? When we already had the beetles cornered and weakened?¡± Blaire sneered back at the noble. ¡°Fool. They weren¡¯t weakened whatsoever.¡± Then she ripped her claws out of the tree as well, rasping for breath through her mosquito mask as she stumbled deeper into the clearing. ¡°They were toying with us. They could¡¯ve recovered all of their strength at any point. I know a cornered and weakened bug when I see one, and I¡¯m telling you, that wasn¡¯t it. If I hadn¡¯t pressed the attack and went back to help our drag of a teammate, they would¡¯ve recovered and killed us both immediately.¡± Otto blinked. That was exactly what had happened to his teammates as well. They thought they had exhausted the beetles and let their guard down, but then¨C ¡°They recovered in an instant anyways!¡± the noble hissed. ¡°Their Swarmblood Arts have something to do with the rapid regeneration, correct? They kept it hidden when they activated it, but the turning point came after they burrowed into a tree and emerged completely unscathed¡ªat that point, we should have just immediately retreated with her! You did not even manage to stop them from burrowing to regenerate, so why did we continue taking a fight against Mutant-Classes with unknown Swarmblood Arts?¡± ¡°It was a shitty situation without a perfect out, and you know it!¡± Blaire snarled, her syringe claws bubbling and hissing with glowing green toxin as she cracked her neck, eyes glowing fierce emerald. ¡°You know, if your decision-making is sooo perfect, then just fuck off and join another team! I¡¯ve been telling you to get off my back for two weeks already, but oh, the Bitch of Justice just has to stick with the teammate those flower bastards assigned her with¨C¡± ¡°¨Cbecause we are a team, and as much as I despise your heart-collecting hobbies, we can¡¯t beat the Mutant-Classes alone¨C¡± ¡°I can! Just a bit more time! If I can observe them for just ten¡­ no, five more minutes, I¡¯ll figure out what their Swarmblood Arts are and develop a counter venom!¡± It was the noble¡¯s turn to scoff this time. ¡°If you were so strong and capable, you would never have left the Plagueplain Front to begin with.¡± Blaire¡¯s eyes darkened. ¡°What¡¯d you say?¡± ¡°You heard me.¡± The noble dragged her giant sawtooth blade behind her, drawing a half-circle in the dirt as her legs parted in a battle stance. ¡°There is no conceivable reason for a Plagueplain Doctor to take this exam. A real Plagueplain Doctor would be too busy drugging themselves and butchering bugs in the crystal trenches to even remember the date of the exam. You came here because you failed to join the Plagueplain Doctors, and the only other way to get out of being persecuted as a feral, filthy war criminal is to be pardoned as a Hasharana.¡± Even in his exhausted, trembling state, Otto was able to reach into his pocket for a single anti-chitin bullet. He loaded it into the rifle¡¯s chamber, knowing he¡¯d probably have to fire it really soon. ¡°... Says the disgraced noble,¡± Blaire said quietly, going down on all fours like a wild animal as she reared one claw behind her, Swarmsteel armour plates across her arms rippling as she tensed every muscle in her body. ¡°There¡¯s no good reason for a noble to take part in these shitty exams, either, unless you¡¯re a disgraced noble¡ªor, worse yet, an exiled noble. What? Were you chased out of your manor with only bristled leaves to wipe your ass with? You trying to reclaim your honour or some shit like that by becoming a Hasharana?¡± Okayyyyy. Yep. They¡¯re gonna start killing each other again. Before the two girls could swing at each other, he stepped out of cover and fired once into the air, the rifle recoil nearly tearing his arm off his shoulder. He winced quietly; he was much more tired than he realised. Still, the crack of an anti-chitin round smashing through the canopy above him got the girls¡¯ attention, and they whirled at once to see him walking towards them with his hands raised. He sincerely hoped he had a warm and friendly smile on his face, but, frankly speaking, he had no idea how his face was holding up being glared at by a furious noble and a bloodthirsty doctor. ¡°H-Hello,¡± he said, and he immediately cursed in his head. How could he have stumbled over his first word? He coughed and kept his rifle pointed towards the sky; he could still salvage this. ¡°I¡¯m¡­ Otto. Otto Glasbrenner from Team Gentiana. May I know the names of the¡­ uh, the lovely ladies I¡¯m speaking with?" The noble scowled, two hands on her giant sawtooth blade, and the doctor¡¯s reaction was much the same. ¡°I am Wisnu Balam Hunahpu, eldest daughter of Earthen Hunahpu and the leader of Team Qantuta,¡± the noble said, fingers stretching and curling around the hilt of her blade. ¡°And I¡¯m Blaire. A real fucking Plagueplain Doctor, and this bitch isn¡¯t my leader,¡± Blaire said, killing pressure practically oozing off her sickly pallid skin. ¡°Now, what the hell¡¯s a Pioneer doing sticking his nose in my business?¡± He grabbed the barrel of his rifle with his other hand and held it horizontally above his head, freezing ten steps before them. ¡°Collaboration,¡± he breathed. ¡°My teammates were killed by the Mutant-Class beetles, too. Since you also lost your third teammate, why not join up with me? I¡¯m sure my skills as a Swarmsteel Maker will come in handy¨C¡± ¡°Fuck off.¡± Blaire didn¡¯t hesitate. She changed targets from Wisnu to him and pounced at him in the blink of an eye, poisonous mist shooting out the back of her cloak as she did¡ªwere it not for Wisnu jerking herself in front of him to parry her claws, he would¡¯ve had his face torn off already. The fungi forest rumbled. Wisnu snarled at Blaire as they locked weapons. The noble asked if the doctor was willing to kill innocent humans in front of her now, while the doctor snapped back with something just as sharp, just as offensive. For his part, Otto didn¡¯t hear what the two girls were actually saying. While he took a nervous step back and lowered his rifle, he turned his head to the side. His ears craned to the canopy above. There were waves of Giant-Class bugs charging towards them from the far, far distance¡ªin hindsight, he probably shouldn¡¯t have fired an anti-chitin bullet just to stop the girls from fighting. Whether they liked it or not, they had to work together now¡­ though the two girls were still glaring at each other, and neither one of them looked ready to back down from their little quarrel. ¡­ Welp. Here we go again. Chapter 76 - Amalgamated Hammer Team Dahlia spent the next two weeks ripping through every Giant-Class bug that passed by their little mushroom hollow, and with every passing day, Dahlia grew more and more homesick for Tavern Emparatoria. The bug meat dishes she could prepare were nothing like the ones Uncle Safi could whip up in just a few minutes, and by now, she¡¯d grown tired of eating the same herb-flavoured bug leg over and over again. She wasn¡¯t alone in needing a palate cleanser, of course. It was right past noon on the first day of their final week, and the three of them had just finished lunch, so now they were lounging about the hollow with their backs against cushions and their hands resting on their foreheads¡ªit¡¯d been more herb-flavoured bug legs yet again. Dahlia felt sick to her stomach just lying on her bed. The mushroom flakes and herbs they used to season their bug meat weren¡¯t bad, but they left an undesirable aftertaste in her mouth she just couldn¡¯t get rid of no matter how many times she tried to rinse it off with clear river water. It was slightly bitter, it was slightly spicy, and¡­ well, she was sick right now. That alone was proof she needed to get better in the cooking department. [This is why the Deepwater Legion Front in the far west is such an important front to hold: over eighty percent of the continent rely on it as a consistent source of salt,] Kari said, lying on its back on the bridge of her nose, groaning alongside her. [I think you should stop eating bug meat for a day or two. Not eating bug meat won¡¯t kill you, but eating too much definitely can. Don¡¯t underestimate indigestion sicknesses and the effects they¡¯ll have on you in combat.] She mumbled something half-coherent in response as she rolled over, facing the wall of the hollow. Her status screen popped up without warning¡ªKari¡¯s doing, most likely¡ªso she distracted herself from the sickness by staring at the words and numbers. Very soon, she was certain her status screen would become so long she¡¯d have to look down just to see the rest of it, and she wasn¡¯t looking forward to when that¡¯d happen.
[Name: Dahlia Sina] [Grade: S-Rank Giant-Class] [Class: Assassin Bug] [Swarmblood Art: Recollection] [Swarmblood Aura: 1,301 (+270)] [Points: 28] [Strength: 4 (+3), Speed: 5 (+1), Toughness: 5 (+3), Dexterity: 4 (+1), Perception: 4 (+1)] [// MUTATION TREE] [T1 Mutation | Swarmguard Deity Lvl: 5] [T2 Mutations | Basic Chitin Lvl: 4 | Basic Antennae Lvl: 4] [T3 Mutations | Basic Claws | Stridulating Throat | Basic Setae Lvl: 2] 150P [// EQUIPPED SWARMSTEEL] [Assassin Bug Claw Gauntlets (Grade: C-Rank)(Str: +2/3)(Dex: +1/2)(Aura: +140/300)] [Adaptable Desert Locust Greaves (Grade: E-Rank)(Spd +1/1](Tou +2/2)(Aura: +40/60)] [Glasswing Butterfly Goggles (Grade: F-Rank)(Per: +1/1)(Tou: +0/1)(Aura: +10/10)] [Adaptable Firefly Bracers (Grade: C-Rank)(Str: +1/2)(Tou: +0/1)(Aura: +50/250)] [Adaptable Antlion Cloak (Grade: E-Rank)(Spd: +1/1)(Tou: +1/2)(Aura +30/120)]
¡­ You can¡¯t condense it or anything? [Do you want me to condense it?] I don¡¯t need to see my equipped Swarmsteel all the time. Unless I make something I actually like, just take it out of the status screen next time? [Very well.] Given the three of them had spent the past two weeks hunting down Giant-Class bugs, they¡¯d each gotten several hundred points to throw into whatever attribute they wanted. Emilia and Muyang aside¡ªnone of them were willing to share their status screens¡ªDahlia had scattered her points across most of her attributes. At Kari¡¯s suggestion, though, she¡¯d also unlocked one of her tier three mutations. Even though she wanted to unlock one of her branch mutations to see what that was all about.
[T3 Core Mutation: Basic Setae] [Brief Description: You have grown microscopic setae across your skin that will allow you to cling to and move on walls. Subsequent levels in this mutation will decrease the stamina drain from sticking on walls]
Next on the agenda was definitely the branch mutations and remaining tier three mutations, considering Kari was just as excited as she was to know what sort of branch mutations the Assassin Bug Class offered, but just as she tried to swipe the status screen away so she could doze off for a nap, her antenna stood up straight. Across the room, Emilia¡¯s ears perked and Muyang¡¯s shoulder muscles tensed as well¡ªso without looking at each other, they each raised a hand and counted down from three inside their heads. After five seconds, Dahlia rolled over groggily to see what the other two had thrown at her. Emilia and Muyang both went for scissors, and she went for paper. [You¡¯re predictable,] Kari muttered, crossing its little legs on her shoulder as she groaned and crawled off her bed, ignoring Muyang''s plea for caution and Emilia half-hearted mumbles for her to stay safe. [You play paper or scissors every single time. That¡¯s why they always go for scissors themselves.] But dad said I should never clench my fists, she thought, cracking her neck and rolling her shoulders, because if your fists are clenched, you aren¡¯t holding onto anything, and you aren¡¯t making anything. Your fist can only destroy, and that¡¯s not what a Maker does. [Screw that. You should destroy them next time.] Kari. [It¡¯s approaching quickly, but it¡¯s alone. From its killing pressure I¡¯m picking up through your antennae, I estimate it¡¯s a C-Rank Giant-Class.] Picking up her giant Swarmsteel hammer on the way out, she tried to calm herself and breathe slowly, steadily. Her heart still hammered an anxious rhythm against her ribs whenever it was just her against a giant bug¡ªthe three of them may have done most of their fighting the past two weeks as a team, and she may have been the backline support for most of those fights, but there had been occasions where a giant bug or two ambushed her and she had to defend herself.Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site. It was about a week ago when she¡¯d finally realised why most participants seemed to carry a Swarmsteel weapon into the exam: Giant-Class bugs were giant. They were big, they had tough armour, and their vitals were often too hard to hit. She¡¯d gotten by so far with her sharp claws and locust greaves that allowed to leap in close, but when there were two, three, or four Giant-Class bugs surrounding her, it was simply nerve-wracking to have to fight at such close-quarters. She wasn¡¯t a thrill-seeker. She wasn¡¯t like Alice who could literally jump from bug to bug to rip them apart with a hundred different silk weapons. She¡¯d much rather stay grounded, stable, and fight her enemies head-to-head with all her advantages as an Assassin Bug Class user. That was, using her Swarmblood Art and her innate talent to see the silver threads¡ªthe lines of destruction. She stepped out of the mushroom hollow, squinting and wincing under the thick shafts of sunlight. The light made patches of earth glow, while other parts stayed dark and cool under the shade of giant mushroom caps. The air was damp and earthy with a hint of rotting mushrooms. Cicadas buzzed loudly, their droning song filling the forest. Birds flitted between the tall mushroom stalks, their wings flashing as they caught the sunlight, but¡­ this peace wasn¡¯t going to last forever. The giant fungi forest was shrinking by the day, and within a week, they had to hunt down the twin Mutant-Classes or die trying. [So start by killing this C-Rank Giant-Class bug confidently.] [Don¡¯t jump around.] [Don¡¯t dodge.] [Don¡¯t fear.] [Stand your ground and unmake it.] Dragging her hammer behind her, she stopped walking after she was fifteen strides away from the hollow. Her antennae were pulsing in beats, responding to the distant sounds of mushroom trees falling, earth rumbling, leaves rustling. The C-Rank Giant-Class bug was charging straight at her, and she swallowed a hard gulp before forcing herself to exhale. She narrowed her eyes at the shadowy bug in front of her, pulling one leg back as she grabbed the handle of her hammer with two hands. It¡¯s hard to tell what it is from this distance, but it¡¯s a¡­ darkling beetle. [Oval, somewhat rounded, convex body. Five-metre-class.] It¡¯s called a darkling beetle because its chitin is usually really dark, but oftentimes, it also has a matte or a slightly glossy finish, and its surface texture may include fine ridges, grooves, or bumps. [That¡¯s why jewellery and trinket Swarmsteel Makers pay a not-insignificant amount for their chitin. The natural glossy finish looks good as necklace chains or bracelet studs.] By the time they finished each other¡¯s sentences, the giant darkling beetle had already burst from the forest, head pressed into the ground, its abdomen raised as it charged straight across the clearing. It wants to ram me with its head. [That¡¯s good for you, then.] Fifteen metres until contact. Dahlia tightened her grip on her hammer and focused¡ªthe silver threads that usually appeared as separate, twirling strands in her eyes were now concentrated in the shape of dahlia blooms on the bug¡¯s weak spots. Two silver flowers bloomed on the joints on its right foreleg, one bloomed under its jaw, and one bloomed on top of its head. The exact path she needed to take to reach those flowers didn¡¯t matter, only that she did eventually. It¡¯s a darkling beetle that prioritises energy conservation as its primary survival method. Its carapace is tough and sturdy, but it¡¯s not very mobile naturally. [So when it¡¯s charging at you like this with its head in the ground, sweep the leg.] Knock it off kilter. Five metres until contact. As her Dagger Antennae rippled from base to tip, she pivoted with her entire body, using herself as the fulcrum as she swung her hammer¡ªand with her eyes aglow, she smashed the joint in its right leg, shattering chitin, tearing muscles, throwing it two metres to the side with a pained screech. Its charge halted. It almost slipped off the rest of its legs as it tried to stand in a panic, but she didn¡¯t lose her balance. Her Segmented Setae prevented her from slipping. She took a firm step forward, reared her hammer behind her, and then exhaled again. Next. [Like most insects, it has limited ventral protection. Its underside must remain flexible to allow it to breathe and digest food, so the exoskeleton plates there are typically thinner and much less rigid.] And this goes for its head, too. With an underhanded swing, she smashed the beetle¡¯s head upwards, destroying the silver flower under its jaw. Its entire body lurched upwards like she¡¯d just pried a sewer grate out of its hole, blood spraying everywhere, and that one good hit on its jaw destroyed its ability to even screech properly. She jumped with her locust greaves before it could fall back down, gripping her hammer with both hands one last time as she brought it over her head. Finally¡­ [The head.] [Do I even have to explain why the head is usually a weak spot?] Surprisingly, the beetle was still conscious enough to know she was about to fall on it, so it reared back suddenly and stabbed two legs up at her. She didn¡¯t jerk herself out of the way. Her Swarmguard Arms moved on their own to defend her, its legs scraping past her firefly bracers to electrify it slightly, and once she fell past its counter-attacking legs, she threw everything she had into one downwards smash. Her hammer absolutely pulverised its head as it landed straight on the final silver flower, and the ground beneath them cracked as she touched down, more blood and guts spraying onto her cloak. [... Not bad,] Kari said, clapping its legs as she spat and wiped her mouth with her sleeve, activating Swarmblood Art: Scourgewind briefly to vibrate off all the bloody bits clinging to her body. [But if you had more strength, you could¡¯ve just killed it with the uppercut. Jumping like that is just more work for more flair, and nobody¡¯s even watching.] I know¨C [Also, try to mitigate air time as much as possible. You don¡¯t have a wing mutation, so you can¡¯t exactly ¡®jerk out of the way¡¯ while you¡¯re falling. Lots of flying bugs can just swoop at you while you¡¯re super defenceless.] I didn¡¯t exactly have a choice there¨C [Also, you need to be more confident in your ability. Your silver flowers bloomed three times because you can¡¯t see any way to kill it in less than three hits. However, it was charging at you with its head literally already pressed into the ground. You could¡¯ve just done a downwards smash right off the bat.] Can¡¯t you compliment me on just one thing? Kari had to think for a moment as she let go of her hammer, stepping over the beetle¡¯s pulverised head to climb onto its carapace. [Your hammer is pretty powerful.]
[Adaptable {Amalgamation} Hammer (Grade: E-Rank)(Str: +0/4)(Aura: + 10/60)]
As she started carving away at the beetle¡¯s chitin with her claws, she threw a glance back at her giant hammer. It was just as tall as she was, and the whole thing was made out of a hundred different bug parts¡ªshe didn¡¯t even know what she¡¯d slammed onto it, only that at some point, even Kari couldn¡¯t tell her what type of bug it was made out of. For now, she called it the ¡®Amalgamated Hammer¡¯: the shaft was a gnarled spiral of fused exoskeleton fragments, and the head was interlocking carapaces filled with mandibles, claws, and fractured wings. She made sure to carve and smoothen the exterior carapaces so the hammer looked relatively normal on the outside, but there was a little plug on one end of the head where she could pop it open and¡­ ¡®feed¡¯ the inside of the hammer with more bug parts. She¡¯d bled on the hammer with her golden blood during the initial forge to make all the individual parts stick together better¡ªand to make it ¡®adaptable¡¯ so her own attributes would also transfer to the hammer¡ªbut she¡¯d no idea what she¡¯d really made by putting her blood in it. It was black and gold streaked, though, just like all her other adaptable Swarmsteel, so she¡¯d keep an eye on it. She wouldn¡¯t want to wake up in the middle of the night to see it coming to life and gnawing on some other Swarmsteel. What have I made, Kari? At first, I just wanted to make a normal hammer, but then Emilia and Muyang kept bringing home so many different bug parts, so then I got excited and started cobbling more parts together, and then I also started bleeding on it just to see what would happen, and now¨C [I don¡¯t know, either.] [But its killing pressure¡­ frightens me a little.] ¡­ So maybe it wasn¡¯t such a good idea to strip the darkling beetle¡¯s chitin and feed it all into her hammer, but she¡¯d already finished carving up the beetle, head to elytra. If she wasn¡¯t going to feed her hammer again, she might as well use it for something else. With a fraction of her spoils of war stuffed under her cloak, she picked the hammer up and began dragging it back to the mushroom hollow. She¡¯d have to take multiple trips just to haul everything inside, but she had time. Until Emilia and Muyang felt like going out to actively hunt the Mutant-Classes, she¡¯d just stay back, rest her indigestion on her comfy little bed, and¨C From out of nowhere, a Noble-Blood and a Plagueplain Doctor came crashing through the giant fungi trees on the left, their trail of clashing blades bringing down an entire mushroom that collapsed on her mushroom hollow with a heavy thump. ¡­ Goddamnit. What is it this time? Chapter 77 - Partnership Dahlia was almost worried for her teammates for half a second when the collapsed mushroom hollow exploded upwards. Two weeks¡¯ worth of wall carvings, crafted furniture, and lazy memories¡ªall destroyed just like that. Suffice it to say, both Emilia and Muyang looked downright pissed as they panted for breath, holding up their flutes and giant beetle helms. They glared up at the other team that¡¯d destroyed their cosy little home, and Dahlia, too¡­ felt just a tad bit miffed. She hadn¡¯t lived in it for long, but she had bled for it. [The Noble-Blood and the Plagueplain Doctor, as well as¡­ the Pioneer chasing after them?] The three of them in Team Dahlia stared as the Noble-Blood and the Plagueplain Doctor continued clashing blades and claws across the small clearing, the aftershock of every swing and block cracking colossal mushroom trees behind their target. The regal swordswoman didn¡¯t seem to notice she¡¯d destroyed Dahlia¡¯s shelter. The feral doctor noticed, eyes glinting venomous emerald as she locked eyes with Dahlia for a brief moment, but she didn¡¯t care. A moment of hesitation meant the Noble-Blood would split her down in half with that giant obsidian-edged sawtooth blade, and it was all she could do dodging and deflecting with her claws to prevent that from happening. But there was also a third member in the other team, and Dahlia¡¯s antennae tingled when something sharp whistled over her head, past Emilia and Muyang¡¯s ears, and slammed into the soil before the Noble-Blood and the Plagueplain Doctor. A wave of earth exploded between the two clashing ladies, forcing them back for a brief second. Dahlia glanced up and saw the boy in the fur coat aiming his weapon down at the ladies. ¡°S-Stop fighting already!¡± he shouted, and Dahlia could see his hands were trembling slightly even from a distance. ¡°It¡¯s just the three of us and the three of them left¡­ I think! There¡¯s still two Mutant-Classes running around, so if we injure ourselves fighting each other, none of us will pass¨C¡± But the Plagueplain Doctor wanted none of it. Without looking, she flicked her sleeve out and sent a fan of glowing syringes flying his way. Five of them. The boy fired two shots and shattered two of them mid-air, but the remaining three were still on the way¡ªit was Emilia who blew a sharp three-note rhythm in their direction that finished them off, soundwave claws shattering them right before they could stab into him. At the same time, Muyang put on his giant beetle head and leaped into the air, headbutting the ground the doctor was standing on as he came down. Earth rippled outwards like a blooming flower, forcing the doctor further back into the forest. For her part, Dahlia was just blinking and trying to make sense of it all. We¡¯re picking sides now? When did we choose to protect the Pioneer and the Noble-Blood? [When the other side turned out to be a Plagueplain Doctor.] [If you ever see two humans fighting each other, and one of them turns out to be a Plagueplain Doctor, it¡¯s ninety-nine percent accurate to say the Plagueplain Doctor probably started it¡ªand they probably won¡¯t end it with a quick, painless death for their opponent.] [If your principle is to protect all human lives, go jump in there and beat the hell out of the Plagueplain Doctor as well.] She didn¡¯t do exactly as Kari suggested¡ªher hands may already be wrapped around her hammer, but just because Kari told her to attack the most likely instigator didn¡¯t mean they were the instigator. Still, she¡¯d seen the Plagueplain Doctor trying to harm the one person yelling at them to stop fighting, and that much was the truth, so she jumped in front of the Noble-Blood as well and kept her hammer reared behind her. It wasn¡¯t likely she¡¯d be able to actually hit the Plagueplain Doctor, given how slow and clumsy she still was with her new weapon, but it wasn¡¯t about her and her alone. Emilia, Muyang, and the Pioneer were all standing on the Noble-Blood¡¯s side, and they had solidarity in numbers against the sole aggressor. The Plagueplain Doctor realised this. And for a second, Dahlia swore the pale, sickly lady looked a little sad¡ªher shoulders slumped, her forward-leaning posture loosened, her emerald eyes dimmed¡ªbut then she balled her Swarmsteel claws into fists and clicked her tongue, exhaling toxic mist through the slits in her mosquito mask. ¡°Buddy up with each other for all I care,¡± she rasped, taking slow, cautious steps back through her mist. ¡°I¡¯ll see you back in the city, princess.¡± That last part was directed at the Noble-Blood, and that was the last Dahlia saw of her. Her antennae stopped tingling, and by the time Emilia pushed out a sound barrier with her viola to clear the mist, the Plagueplain Doctor was already gone. Vanished into thin air. Dahlia was inclined to believe she was just fast. In any case, now there were five of them standing around a broken clearing, and Team Dahlia was still hovering around the rubble that was their collapsed mushroom hollow. With the most immediate threat to their lives removed, Emilia and Muyang immediately turned on the Noble-Blood and the Pioneer, instruments and giant beetle helm poised to attack. Dahlia whirled around with her hammer as well, if not only to remind herself whose side she was truly on, but the Noble-Blood wasn¡¯t gripping onto her sawtooth as tightly anymore, and the Pioneer dropped from the far overhead branch with his weapon pointed to the sky. A show of raised hands from both new arrivals made Dahlia a little less uneasy, though she still couldn¡¯t quite shake the fear from standing next to the Noble-Blood¡¯s powerful swings. ¡°... Truce?¡± the Pioneer said, throwing his hood back to reveal a face just as young as his voice. ¡°I don¡¯t know about Wisnu and Blaire, but I¡¯m not here to fight humans, either. How about we team up to deal with the Mutant-Class beetles? I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve fought them before as well, right?¡± Then, in one swift motion, he slipped his weapon into his oversized satchel and essentially disarmed himself. ¡°I¡¯m Otto Glasbrenner, a Pioneer from the Rampaging Hinterland Front,¡± he said, keeping his hands raised as he frowned at the Noble-Blood standing next to him, kicking the dirt subtly. ¡°Thanks for protecting me from Blaire back there. My rifle only shoots three bullets before I have to reload, so I would¡¯ve been messed up if you hadn¡¯t saved me. Anyways, the lady next to me is¨C¡± ¡°I am Wisnu Balam Hunahpu, eldest daughter of Earthen Hunahpu and the leader of Team Qantuta,¡± the Noble-Blood said, giving all four of them suspicious looks as she backed away slowly, blade still held loosely in her hands. ¡°Thank you, too, for your assistance against my teammate. That was Blaire, a Plagueplain Doctor from the Plagueplain Front, and she has been woefully uncooperative since the beginning of the exam.¡±A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation. Emilia snorted. ¡°I can tell. This marks the second time you¡¯ve interrupted us with your squabbling.¡± ¡°You destroyed our base,¡± Muyang said, a sour frown curling his brows. ¡°And our food and insect part reserves,¡± Dahlia muttered, feeling a twinge of anger in her chest. ¡°I¡­ am truly sorry,¡± Wisnu said, and to everyone¡¯s surprise, she stabbed her sword into the ground and bowed¡ªdeeply¡ªlike nobody had ever bowed to Dahlia before. ¡°It was not my intention to drag another team into our quarrel. How much was lost with the collapse of your base? I can reimburse you once we complete the exam and get out of this forest. I will not run away from my dues.¡± Dahlia blinked. So did Emilia and Otto. The only one who seemed impressed by Wisnu being so forthcoming was Muyang, and Dahlia could see why¡ªthe two had the same ¡®air¡¯ of nobility around them¡ªbut before Emilia could make a snark reply asking for more reimbursement than their little mushroom hollow was actually worth, Dahlia¡¯s antennae finally tingled again. She didn¡¯t need to warn anyone. They all had their own mutations, and they all felt the sinking pit in their stomachs as they whirled around, staring deep into the shadows of the forest. Mutant-Class killing pressures. Two of them. Picking up Emilia and Dahlia and kicking his giant beetle head over a fallen log, Muyang threw all of them behind cover and quickly held them still. A bead of sweat dribbled down Dahlia¡¯s brow. She was worried for a second Wisnu and Otto¡ªWisnu especially¡ªwould stand their ground and try to fight the beetle twins, but apparently they knew better, because they also flung themselves over the fallen log and took cover next to them, jaws clenching. Just like that, the five of them sat with their backs against the log as two pairs of heavy footsteps stepped into the clearing behind them. [.. Don¡¯t move,] Kari warned. [Don¡¯t make a sound.] She knew that much. All of them did, but it was easier to bite their tongue and tense every muscle in their body than to control the pounding of their hearts. Dahlia had no idea how perceptive the beetle twins were, but if they were detected here and now¡ªwhile she and Emilia and Muyang were still reeling from the aftereffects of indigestion sickness¡ªthere was no telling whether or not they¡¯d actually stand a chance against the Mutant-Classes. At the very least, Dahlia had spun herself a little sick just swinging her hammer into the Giant-Class beetle. She was in no condition to contribute to any fight. But they¡¯re not leaving, she thought, biting her lips as she tried not to peek over the log, instead relying on her antennae only to construct an ¡®image¡¯ of the clearing behind her. The beetle twins were still lurking around, no doubt having heard or smelled something brought about by Blaire¡¯s toxins. Is there a way to get them to go away? [Are you sure the five of you can¡¯t beat them here?] Are you sure we can do that without someone getting seriously injured? [Well, no.] Then we can¡¯t fight. This isn¡¯t the time or the place. Thankfully, it seemed as though Otto agreed, because he reached into his satchel and plucked out a tiny metal moth, winding the key on the abdomen before tossing it over the log. The metal moth fluttered for two seconds before it was violently crushed out of the air by a leaping beetle. [But he¡¯s got more. He¡¯s a Swarmsteel Maker too, huh?] Kari mused, pointing at Otto as the boy motioned for the rest of them to take as many windup moths as they could out of his satchel. Emilia, Wisnu, and Muyang didn¡¯t hesitate. They each grabbed a handful of metal moths, winded the key, then tossed the little constructs in every conceivable direction. One wouldn¡¯t distract the beetle twins for long, but two, four, six, eight from all around them made it difficult to pinpoint where they were tossed from. They let out synchronised screeches for a short second¡ªmaking Dahlia wince¡ªbefore she heard them scatter in different directions, chasing after the flock of metal moths. They waited ten seconds. Twenty seconds. Thirty seconds. And it wasn¡¯t until a whole minute passed, after the beetle twins were well and truly gone, that they all let out simultaneous breaths of relief. ¡°They¡¯ve gotten stronger since the last time we saw them,¡± Emilia muttered, groaning with her face in her hands. ¡°If they were both D-Rank Mutant-Classes before¡­ they¡¯re both C-Rank now. Probably because they¡¯ve eaten so many bugs and humans the past two weeks.¡± Dahlia felt an urge to say ¡®I told you so¡¯, but there wasn¡¯t any point in being mean. The fact was, the three of them had also gotten significantly stronger¡ªwhether they¡¯d gotten stronger more than the beetle twins had in the past two weeks was simply yet to be determined. But they couldn¡¯t have fought the twins the way they were right now. Not here. Not while they had two new ¡®teammates¡¯, who had that light in their eyes that said they knew exactly how outmatched they¡¯d be if they tried going at the beetle twins alone. So they looked at each other pointedly, stared for a few more seconds, and then all of them nodded at once. ¡°... I am Muyang, fourth son of the Firegourd Wu Clan in the Hellfire Caldera Front, and I like to dance with my giant beetle helm. I like to believe I am somewhat capable as a physical vanguard,¡± Muyang said, offering both his hands to the people sitting by his sides. ¡°I¡¯m Emilia, Cicada Musician of the Mori Masif Front. I''d rather not have to explain since it''s pretty complicated, but basically, I can summon seven instruments that each have a different effect when played. Think of me as... a supportive bard of sorts,¡± Emilia said, taking Muyang¡¯s left hand. ¡°Once again, I am Wisnu Balam Hunahpu, eldest daughter of Earthen Hunahpu in the Attini Empire Front,¡± Wisnu said, taking Muyang¡¯s left hand as well with a firm nod. ¡°I have ant mutations that significantly boost my physical attributes and swordsmanship ability. Feel free to work me like a vanguard as well.¡± ¡°And I¡¯m Otto Glassbrenner, Pioneer of the Rampaging Hinterland Front,¡± Otto said, reaching past Dahlia to shake Muyang¡¯s right hand. ¡°I have an insignificant Beetle Class, but that¡¯s because I¡¯m primarily a long-range sniper and a Swarmsteel Maker. If you have any equipment that needs upgrading and fixing, I¡¯m your guy. If you need someone to shoot down an annoying bird early in the morning, I¡¯m also your guy.¡± Dahlia introduced herself as well, though she was the only one who couldn¡¯t say she was from any particular Swarmsteel Front. She¡¯d been told the Sharaji Desert was smack dab near the centre of the continent, so everyone blanked when she mentioned she was from an Undertown. Nevertheless, she mentioned neither her class nor her Swarmblood Art¡ªneither did Wisnu and Otto introduce theirs¡ªso once the introductions were all done, Wisnu was the first to thump a fist over her chest. ¡°Only two teams can pass this first stage, but there are currently three teams still remaining: Otto in Team Gentiana, me and Blaire in Team Qantuta, and Dahlia, Emilia, and Muyang in Team Dahlia. The four of you should pass and leave me behind,¡± she said plainly. ¡°Blaire is a fiend of a Plagueplain Doctor. No doubt she has harmed and killed many participants in this exam, and I am ashamed to say I failed to stop her despite being teammates. I will take responsibility for the deaths and make sure she does not pass this exam. A murderer getting all her crimes pardoned by becoming a Hasharana would be utterly detestable.¡± The rest of them blinked again. It was just one surprise after another with the Noble-Blood. ¡°But if Blaire fails, you also fail,¡± Otto said, frowning. ¡°I don¡¯t know what a Noble-Blood is doing trying to be a Hasharana, but you must have your own reasons, right? Are you going to give up this year?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°But¨C¡± ¡°What a noble lady!¡± Emilia chirped, clapping her hands and grinning from ear-to-ear. ¡°I was worried we¡¯d have to fight at least one of you to make sure we get to kill a Mutant-Class, but if Wisnu¡¯s willing to sacrifice herself so Blaire also fails, we can¡¯t let her down now, can we? The four of us will kill the twin beetles, pass the exam, and the two of them in Team Qantuta can duke it out themselves! Everyone wins!¡± ¡®Everyone wins¡¯ wasn¡¯t how Dahlia would put it, but Wisnu had a steely look in her eyes that said she was prepared to fail if it meant she could bring Blaire down with her, and¡­ at the very least, Muyang looked completely lovestruck at the noble lady¡¯s willing sacrifice. They¡¯d probably be fast friends given how polite their speeches were. ¡°... Well, if you¡¯re fine with failing, then I guess it¡¯s alright,¡± Otto mumbled, rubbing his hair as he tried to wrap his head around Wisnu¡¯s decision. ¡°But we still have one week left to kill the beetles. There¡¯s no way Blaire can kill them solo, so she doesn¡¯t factor into this. How are we gonna hunt them down?¡± Chapter 78 - Teamwork Ten more days passed, and by this point, there was only one day remaining in the exam¡ªover seventy percent of the colossal fungi forest had been reduced to ashes by the ever-diligent sun moth patrolling overhead, and all that was really left of the forest was a kilometre stretch of greenery, barely large enough for anyone to get a good warmup run in. But Team ¡®Dahlia¡¯, as the five of them were, still had to make the best of their tiny little arena. Dawn of the eleventh morning. The cicadas singing and birds chirping were louder than ever around their clearing. The critters that¡¯d survived the sun moths and the battles between the participants and the bugs had nowhere else to go but the clearing the five of them had been living in, and though their pretty mushroom hollow had been destroyed, it didn¡¯t take them long at all to rebuild a new one, though it was obviously much less fancy¡ªthey spent more time training than beautifying their temporary abode. They¡¯d cleared out the rest of the forest for Giant-Class bugs, ate as much as they could, and now, they were as ready as they could be to take on the Mutant-Class twins. [... You¡¯re all plenty strong enough together.] [Now, it¡¯ll come down to how well you can execute your plan.] All of them were scattered across the clearing. Otto was perched atop a branch, feeding anti-chitin bullets into his ¡®rifle¡¯. Muyang and Wisnu, as Dahlia expected, had become fast friends. She wasn¡¯t privy to most of their private conversations, but whenever they were in plain sight, they were always training each other in hand-to-hand combat, and it was always quite amusing to see a giant man like Muyang sparring a seemingly delicate and frail lady like Wisnu. The solid thuds of their clashing fists and shins gave a good background beat to Emilia¡¯s humming, which was all the cicada girl had been doing the past ten days: lying on her back to sleep, waking up to eat, and walking around every once in a while to stretch her limbs. Of the five of them, she was the most casual and relaxed; Dahlia had no idea what she was thinking, but if she didn''t feel the need to train or warm up or tune her blood-formed instruments, then maybe it was a good thing. She was confident in herself. She knew they could win. They¡¯d prepared themselves about as well as they could, and now, it was time to fight.
[Name: Dahlia Sina] [Grade: S-Rank Giant-Class] [Class: Assassin Bug] [Swarmblood Art: Recollection] [Swarmblood Aura: 1,389 (+320)] [Points: 28] [Strength: 5 (+4), Speed: 5 (+1), Toughness: 5 (+3), Dexterity: 4 (+1), Perception: 4 (+1)] [// MUTATION TREE] [T1 Mutation | Swarmguard Deity Lvl: 5] [T2 Mutations | Basic Chitin Lvl: 4 | Basic Antennae Lvl: 4] [T3 Mutations | Basic Claws | Stridulating Throat | Basic Setae Lvl: 3] 150P [// EQUIPPED SWARMSTEEL] [Assassin Bug Claw Gauntlets (Grade: C-Rank)(Str: +2/3)(Dex: +1/2)(Aura: +150/300)] [Adaptable Desert Locust Greaves (Grade: E-Rank)(Spd +1/1](Tou +2/2)(Aura: +40/60)] [Glasswing Butterfly Goggles (Grade: F-Rank)(Per: +1/1)(Aura: +10/10)] [Adaptable Firefly Bracers (Grade: C-Rank)(Str: +1/2)(Tou: +0/1)(Aura: +60/250)] [Adaptable Antlion Cloak (Grade: E-Rank)(Spd: +1/1)(Tou: +1/2)(Aura +40/120)] [Adaptable {Amalgamation} Hammer (Grade: E-Rank)(Str: +1/4)(Aura: + 20/60)]
They didn¡¯t need to share any more words. They¡¯d shared plenty over the past ten days, throwing and discussing their ideas on how to slay the beetle twins most efficiently¡ªand the answer they arrived at unanimously wasn¡¯t surprising to Dahlia at all. Now, Muyang and Wisnu stood in the centre of the clearing, Emilia stood by the trunk of a colossal mushroom, and Otto knelt perched on the branches overhead. Dahlia herself was sitting and leaning against the trunk of another colossal mushroom close by, but not quite close to the rest of the team. She was a bit off to the side. The others had far more combat-heavy jobs to accomplish than her, but that didn¡¯t mean she didn¡¯t have a role to play. ¡°... Ready?¡± Wisnu asked, glancing back at all of them as she kicked up her oversized sawtooth blade, gripping it in both hands. In response, Muyang put on his giant beetle helm, Emilia summoned her flute, Otto yanked in the scope on his rifle, and Dahlia nodded from afar as she tightened her two-handed grip on her hammer. They¡¯d spent enough time idling around. Now was the time to pass the exam or die trying. Emilia sucked in a sharp breath before shouting as loud as she could, her voice reverberating and rippling across the clearing. The rest of them winced, but didn¡¯t falter. They¡¯d prepared themselves for the ear-shattering noise. Cicadas screamed around them, birds scattered in noisy flocks, and Dahlia¡¯s antennae tingled as they swerved straight ahead¡ªtwo human-shaped shadows were dashing and leaping between the colossal mushrooms, having heard the commotion explicitly made to challenge them to a fight. They accepted the challenge. [Two C-Rank Mutant-Class ambrosia beetles detected.] [Prepare for combat.] They had no intention to deceive. No intention to ride and hide. Their combined auras¡ªtheir killing pressures¡ªwashed over the clearing even from afar, and though Dahlia was sitting leisurely off to the side, she still found herself gritting her teeth and shaking slightly. The firefly had been F-Rank, and Madamaron had been D-Rank. To face off against two C-Ranks at the same time was nothing short of a big leap for her¡ªso thankfully, she wasn¡¯t alone in this fight. She had powerful allies. Calm down. Slow your heartbeat. Wait for your moment. As the beetle twins pounced at Muyang and Wisnu from the shadows, both vanguards sidestepped their claw swipes. An unexpected move. The beetles must¡¯ve thought they were going to parry or block, given their straightforward natures and fighting styles, but instead their dodges opened the beetles up to a quick counterattack¡ªDahlia¡¯s heart soared for a single beat when both vanguards managed to lunge in and slam small circular magnets onto their chitins, which immediately thrummed and make their killing pressures waver for a short moment. Muyang and Wisnu backed up as the beetle twins stumbled forward, compound eyes wide and clearly surprised at their opening move. ¡°It is not two C-Rank Mutant-Classes we are facing,¡± Muyang said, on the third night since they started working as a team of five. He sprang the topic out of nowhere while they were all feasting on bug meat around a campfire, and everyone stopped chewing for a moment just to stare at him. ¡°Individually, they may be C-Rank, but I reckon their actual threat level together is around B-Rank, or even low A-Rank. Wisnu and I can each match one as a vanguard, but I doubt, even with Wisnu¡¯s speed and my durability, that we can do much more than defend ourselves as punching bags.¡± ¡°So?¡± Emilia said, lying on her side as she continued munching on her mantis leg. ¡°We still need you two to be our vanguards, right? It¡¯s not like me or Dahlia or Otto can play that round, and you know they¡¯re going to want to fight close-quarters. We need someone to play the shields.¡± ¡°And we will be the immovable shields, but there is a saying in the Hellfire Caldera Front that I cannot translate to the Sharaji Tongue completely,¡± Muyang replied, raising a finger, ¡°¡®If the mountain cannot rise, lower the river that climbs it. When the shield cannot harden, let the blade find no edge to cut¡¯. It is one of the core tenets of the Firegourd Wu Clan, the family of Beetle Dancers.¡± ¡°I¡¯ve literally never heard that saying before.¡± ¡°Me neither,¡± Otto said. ¡°Where¡¯s the Hellfire Caldera Front again?¡± Dahlia asked. ¡°It means if we cannot strengthen ourselves enough to overwhelm the bugs with sheer power, then we should seek not to chase an unattainable strength,¡± Wisnu said, looking at Muyang with a coy smile, ¡°and instead weaken our enemies.¡±You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story. Muyang smiled back. ¡°Precisely. To that end, the sons of the Firegourd Wu Clan always train with metal rings on our limbs, torso, and neck¡ªthey constrict us, bind us, but through the pain and weight we suffer, our muscles grow tighter and our bodies become stronger. If we could somehow attach something to the two Mutant-Classes, we could weaken their physicality and lower their threat level down to D-Rank.¡± ¡°Because what doesn¡¯t kill you leaves you permanently in pain, crippled, and disfigured,¡± Otto murmured, sapphire eyes glowing softly as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a little metal stick. ¡°Actually, we Pioneers in the Rampaging Hinterland Front regularly use magnets made of insect parts to create Swarmsteel. If we can make a few high-density magnets that stick onto the Mutants¡¯ chitin like glue, then we can make it so they can¡¯t fight too close together or they¡¯ll risk being glued together¡ªthey¡¯ll be forced to fight apart.¡± ¡°Aren¡¯t those magnets hard to make?¡± Emilia mumbled, gesturing to the pile of raw insect chitin and uneaten parts behind them. ¡°We have lots of random bug components right there, but we¡¯d be here for weeks and months before we find even a single one with trace amounts of magnetic minerals, and that¡¯s if any of us even knows which insect parts have magnetic minerals or not¨C¡± ¡°Honeybee abdomens, termite antennae, butterfly thoraxes, and dung beetle eyes,¡± Dahlia said, crawling over to the pile of insect parts as she began flinging irrelevant parts aside, eyes wide and focused as she searched for the necessary components. ¡°All of those parts¡­ um, are known to have something called ¡®magnetite¡¯ in them, which supposedly helps them navigate across vast or underground spaces with their sixth sense. If we find those parts and then squish them all into super high density¡­ what did you call them? ¡®Magnets¡¯? Do you think they¡¯ll stick to the Mutant-Classes¡¯ chitin?¡± The rest of them stared at her blankly, and she paused to glance back at them as she finally felt a bit self-conscious¡ªshe was scraping and scavenging the pile of insect parts like a beggar, and that made her face all the more red and hot. ¡°I¡­ uh, memorised the Amadeus Academy Almanac of Bugs,¡± she explained hurriedly. ¡°The book said those bugs have parts that demonstrate ¡®magnetic properties¡¯, but it never explained what that meant, so I¡­ well, I still memorised which parts have magnetic properties. I just thought it¡¯d come in useful one day.¡± And it was useful, because they did end up making magnets by finding loads of relevant insect parts, crushing them into fine powder, using Otto¡¯s magnet stick to separate the magnetic minerals, mixed the minerals with fungi resin and clay, and then baked the circular magnet to harden the material. It was mainly Otto and Dahlia who¡¯d worked together. Since the amount of magnetic minerals they could extract from a single insect part was dreadfully little, they¡¯d used well over a hundred Giant-Class bug parts to make two powerful magnets that would stick to bug chitin and pull towards each other all the time¡ªand all they had to do was stick them onto the beetle twins¡¯ chests. As the beetle twins took simultaneous steps back, scratching and growling at the silver plates glued to their chests with incredibly potent adhesives, Muyang and Wisnu leapt forward. They went on the offensive. To prevent the beetles from potentially ripping the magnets off their chests, the vanguards had to distract them, and distract them the two nobles did. Wisnu slashes wild and furious with her sawtooth greatsword, swiping one beetle to the far right, and Muyang headbutted the ground with his giant beetle helm, forcing the other beetle to dash far left. Separated. Broken apart. In an attempt to regroup and fight as one, the beetles tried dashing back and towards each other, but their antennae stood up straight as they neared each other. Dahlia couldn¡¯t suppress a small smile. They could sense the pull from the magnets¡ªif they regrouped, their magnets would slam the two of them together and immobilise them. They couldn¡¯t regroup as long as the magnets were still on them. Muyang and Wisnu pressed forth, using their hesitation as springboards to continue the onslaught, headslams and kicks and slashes and thrusts breaking the fungi forest around them. Now that the beetles had to fight each of the vanguards separately, they were much less powerful. The vanguards weren¡¯t winning¡ªtheir attacks weren¡¯t landing because the beetles were still too quick, burrowing in and out of the ground to dodge every strike¡ªbut the vanguards weren¡¯t losing, either. A sharp anti-chitin round whizzed over the vanguards¡¯ and pierced into Wisnu¡¯s beetle¡¯s shoulder, while it was still probably thinking about how to regroup with its twin. The beetle screeched. Wisnu tightened her stance and slashed upwards, her greatsword uppercutting its jaw and sending it into the air. [Clean shot.] [The boy''s not half-bad.] While the Noble-Blood continued distracting her beetle with flurries of slashes , Muyang¡¯s beetle snapped its head up to glare at Otto. The Pioneer gulped so loud even Dahlia heard it all the way below his branch, but he didn¡¯t falter. He fired a second shot¡ªthis one missed¡ªand then the beetle elected to ignore Muyang, dashing past the big man to pounce up at the rifleman instead. But Emilia had already jumped up there, standing right behind Otto, and she drew a slow, heavy note with her viola. A invisible sound barrier expanded, smashing into the beetle. Otto had winter earmuffs on. The beetle didn¡¯t. Otto fired two, three, four more times in quick succession, nailing each of the beetle¡¯s arms mid-air as it fell backwards screeching, and Muyang jumped to headbutt it into the ground. Dahlia squinted, her Swarmguard Arms bracing her face slowly as Muyang slammed the beetle into the ground, a gust of dirt and wind exploding outwards. The beetles weren¡¯t dead yet¡ªnone of Wisnu¡¯s slashes could reach the impossibly agile beetle, and the one Muyang slammed into the ground had already scrambled onto its feet, both beetles resuming their melee clashes with the vanguards¡ªbut they couldn¡¯t afford to just go for the long-range supports in the back. Not with Otto constantly pelting them with bullets from afar, and Emilia switching between multiple instruments to constantly support them from the back. She''d play her trumpet briefly for a single second to strengthen and toughen the vanguards, then continue the melody with her flute to send sound wave claws at the beetles, then continue the melody again with her viola to defend Otto with a sound barrier. As long as Emilia had the stamina to continue summoning and switching between her weapons, there was nothing stopping her from doing it on repeat. And she was a self-sufficient support, given she could also protect herself and go on the offensive with her instruments, though her offensive commands dealt considerably less damage. Only Otto''s anti-chitin bullets could pierce the beetle''s chitin. ¡°... So Muyang and Wisnu will be the vanguards taking the brunt of the hits, while Otto will hammer their chitin with his anti-chitin rounds,¡± Emilia said, on the fifth night since they started working together. The rest of them stopped mid-chew to watch her draw diagrams in the dirt with her toes. ¡°Since Otto¡¯s the only one here capable of damaging them, they¡¯ll definitely try to go after him¡ªso I¡¯ll be on standby to protect him and you vanguards with my instruments. I''ll also contribute to hitting them every once in a while with my flute, I guess, but basically, I''ll be taking the support role here.¡± ¡°And that is our strategy?¡± Wisnu mused, adding lines to the diagram of their formation with her toes, not bothering to toss aside the skewer in her hands. ¡°Muyang and I will distract the beetles, while Otto will shoot and Emilia will provide general support for all of us¡­ but our victory condition is making sure Otto and either Muyang, Emilia, or Dahlia gets the final kill on both Mutant-Classes. Otto can probably aim and get a clean heart shot on one of the Mutant-Classes, but since he will be immediately warped away by wormholes once he kills a Mutant-Class, that will leave only the four of us against one incredibly agile Mutant-Class.¡± ¡°It¡¯ll try to run away,¡± Otto pointed out. ¡°And if we don¡¯t finish the fight fast afterwards, the death of even a single Mutant-Class is a massive reduction in the forest¡¯s killing pressure, and the sun moth is definitely going to notice,¡± Emilia said, grumbling under her breath as she lay on her back, arms crossed behind her head. ¡°Since Mutant-Classes not of the same type don¡¯t typically like each other, the beetle twins have probably been keeping the sun moth in check these past few weeks, and vice versa, so the sun moth will probably swoop in and kill the last beetle if it realises the other beetle is dead. If that happens, I¡¯ve got no clue if that counts as us ¡®killing a Mutant-Class¡¯. We can¡¯t kill the two Mutant-Classes with staggered timing, then. We have to kill them close together. ¡°So we have Otto kill one quickly, and then the rest of us just gang up on the other one?¡± Dahlia asked, a bit anxious. ¡°We¡­ still have to contest with their Swarmblood Art, you know. Their unique magic. They can¡­ burrow through organic material, leave their spores behind, and when they get injured, they can retreat into their burrows to eat the mushrooms they propagated the growth of to rapidly regenerate their wounds. In short, their magic seems to be ¡®growing healing mushrooms on any organic material¡¯. How do we contest with that?¡± ¡°And if they burrow out of sight to heal, how do we stop them from removing the magnets that prevent them from fighting together?¡± Otto muttered, scratching the back of his head as he scowled. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter how much damage we do to them if they can just run away and come back fully healed in thirty or so seconds. We don¡¯t have that overwhelming firepower to kill them from a hundred to zero, which means¨C¡± ¡°If we want to prevent them from healing and kill them at the same time, we must trap them,¡± Muyang finished, raising a finger. ¡°There is a saying in the Hellfire Caldera Front: ¡®The gate of refuge becomes the cage when the latch is unseen¡¯.¡± Emilia groaned. ¡°You sound like my dad with those stupid, completely unheard of sayings.¡± ¡°But it is a true saying in the Hellfire Caldera Front. It means¨C¡± ¡°The beetle twins are powerful, and they will definitely sense a trap coming if they are of sound mind and body,¡± Wisnu said, shaking her head slowly. ¡°But if they are in pain, panicking, and think they have an opportunity to retreat to safety, they will dive headfirst into the trap by themselves.¡± ¡°... So, we hurt them, injure them, then give them an opportunity to run, and only try to trap them once they¡¯re trying to run away?¡± Otto asked. ¡°And then we finish them off while their guard is lowered.¡± Muyang nodded. ¡°The question is, how do we predict in which direction they would choose to flee, and how do we prepare a trap that will intercept them on the path of their retreat? We cannot very well trap the entire forest within one week, can we?¡± ¡°If the Plagueplain Doctor were with us, I¡¯m sure she¡¯d have plenty of venom and poison vials she could strap to the trees,¡± Emilia mused, ¡°then she can detonate those vials whenever the beetles try burrowing inside to heal. Great Makers, she¡¯d be mighty useful for trapping if she were here¨C¡± ¡°But she is not here, and we will not be enlisting her help,¡± Wisnu said firmly, putting a stop to the idea. ¡°Any thoughts, Otto? Do you know of any construct in the Rampaging Hinterland Front that can cage in Mutant-Classes?¡± ¡°None that I can make with what shoddy insect parts I have access to here,¡± Otto mumbled, looking back at their gradually decreasing pile of insect parts. ¡°A physical cage with bars and electrified wires is impossible. Things like that take weeks and months to make, not days. Besides, whatever our trap is, it needs to incapacitate both beetles in one fell swoop. We can¡¯t just incapacitate one and let the other run free.¡± Everyone dipped their heads and lost themselves in their own thoughts, trying to think of any ideas¡ªso Dahlia raised her hand, her throat still clenched nervously. In real time, all Dahlia was doing was sitting cross-legged off to the side by herself, both hands clutching onto her hammer planted in her lap. She wasn¡¯t doing anything to help her teammates fight the beetles. Muyang and Wisnu each traded heavy blows with their respective beetles, Emilia was constantly alternating between her instruments, and Otto dealt the hard damage with his rifle. If the beetles weren¡¯t together, they couldn¡¯t gang up on any one of the vanguards, and if they couldn¡¯t use their teamwork advantage¡­ It was a matter of time before they had to retreat and use their Swarmblood Art on a random tree. And all Dahlia had to do was keep her eyes wide open and pay attention. ¡°... I¡¯ll be the trap,¡± Dahlia said, chewing on her nails. ¡°I¡¯ll predict which tree they¡¯ll escape to and intercept them when they run.¡± Chapter 79 - Assassin It was a stalemate¡ªan even contest of strength between Muyang and the Mutant-Class beetle, and Muyang, who¡¯d never lost in an upfront battle, was having fun. He couldn¡¯t see much out of the eyeholes in his giant beetle helm. His fists and fingers were wrapped around the metal bars he¡¯d hammered into the edge of his helm, and with every head slam into the ground that made the earth ripple¡ªmissing the agile beetle by inches¡ªhe was reminded of those cold and rainy days when he¡¯d been made to stand outside his clan¡¯s iron-studded doors, forced to take a squatting stance as he held a boulder on his back for hours upon hours on end. He was the fourth son of the prodigious Firegourd Wu Clan, a family of Beetle Dancers famous for having collected two Lesser Insect God heads. Every man in the family was supposed to have at least two bloodsworn wives by the age of fourteen, who¡¯d be the ¡®Body¡¯ and ¡®Tail¡¯ to his beetle ¡®Head¡¯, but if there was one thing he simply couldn¡¯t do, it was fooling around and playing with his dearest partners, splitting his attention between two lovers. He wasn¡¯t like his older brothers. His strength and durability meant nothing if he wasn¡¯t charming enough to attract a Body and a Tail, and for his inability to marry even after he¡¯d turned eighteen, he¡¯d been cast out. Told to pack his bags and head for somewhere else where his lackluster talent for Beetle Dancing would be appreciated. It wouldn¡¯t be a lie to say he¡¯d all but given up on ever fighting and dancing in a team. He¡¯d spent years wandering across the continent, enrolling in entrance exams for every single Swarmsteel Front, and while he¡¯d passed each and every last one of them with flying colours¡­ he¡¯d always refused the invitation offer in the end. There was no point joining an organisation that didn¡¯t push him to his limits. The entrance exams would always be too easy, and he¡¯d always end up crushing whatever bug they put in his way under his foot. He never needed teammates. Outside of the Hellfire Caldera Front, the Giant-Class bugs were, simply put, pathetically weak. The far northern front wasn¡¯t known as the most powerful front in the world for nothing, and for years and years, he¡¯d wondered if he¡¯d ever meet his match. Or find people he had to work with to meet his match. ¡­ In that sense, he didn¡¯t regret coming to the Hasharana Entrance Exam. Not at all. As the beetle darted away from his next head slam, it circled around him to try to rip out his spine, but a bullet from the Pioneer bounced off the back of his helm and ricocheted into the beetle, making it stumble, making it screech. He grinned like he¡¯d never smiled a day in his life, though nobody saw it under his helm. Instead, he only pivoted, turned, jumped with a hearty laugh, and slammed his head down on the beetle again.
Wisnu stole peeks at Muyang fighting off his opponent to the side every now and again, because the fact was, the Mutant-Class beetle she was fending off simply wasn¡¯t too tough of an opponent. Claw strike to the neck. She parried with a lazy block. It darted to a fungi tree, circled around her, and she spun to slash it out of the air as it pounced at her. Recovering from its painful landing, it burrowed into the ground and snaked towards her, clouds of dirt and soil being kicked up as it tried to impale her from underneath. She took a step back and stabbed her sawtooth blade directly beneath her, barely missing its head by inches as it jumped out of the ground, retreating to a distance. Her eyes narrowed as she returned to her default stance, drawing a line in the earth with her blade before dragging it behind her, both hands wrapped loosely around the hilt. She wasn¡¯t stronger than it, no¡ªshe imagined Muyang, hailing from the Hellfire Caldera Front and all, could probably crush its skull with his bare hands if he could just get close enough¡ªand she wasn¡¯t faster, tougher, or just physically superior in any way, shape, or form. It was a Mutant-Class for a reason. It¡¯d decimated hundreds of bugs and participants before her because it overwhelmed them with its physicality and speed, but while she wasn¡¯t winning her fight, she wasn¡¯t losing it, either. Without using her Swarmblood Art and with Emilia constantly buffing her strength with that magic trumpet, she was just barely an even match with it, and that pissed her off more than she liked. I¡¯m not showing it on my face, am I? She felt she¡¯d kept herself decently composed throughout the exam. Save for the one or two or three times she¡¯d clashed with Blair out of pure, murderous rage, she felt she¡¯d successfully convinced everyone she was a noble who could keep her cool when she needed to the most¡­ but the Mutant-Class beetle was really, really testing her patience, and just staring at it clicking and clacking its mandibles in front of her¡ªassessing her strength, perceiving her aura¡ªmade her want to forget all about her principles and kill it outright, passing the first stage of the exam for herself. It looks¡­ almost like that Lesser Insect God. The way it just stares at me. The way it just stands there, unmoving, unblinking. Back turned towards the rest of the team, she allowed herself to clench her teeth and let just a bit of rage show on her face¡ªand she must¡¯ve pushed her aura out a little, because the Mutant-Class beetle suddenly froze and began to shudder. ¡­ What good am I as a Noble-Blood of the Hunahpu if I can¡¯t even defeat a C-Rank Mutant-Class without using my Swarmblood Art? How will I ever become a Hasharana and take down that Lesser Insect God? I bring shame on my household name. So she tightened her grip on her blade and exhaled coolly, the feeling of the wrapped leather against her fingers grounding her. She wouldn¡¯t let anger consume her. Not completely. She still had to play her part in this plan to incapacitate both Mutant-Class beetles at once. Come on, bug. Why don¡¯t you retreat and use your Swarmblood Art to heal up?
Emilia wasn¡¯t exactly sure if she was bored or tired after having spent an entire month in this colossal fungi forest, but frankly, she felt it didn¡¯t matter either way. She was perched ten metres above the fighting, a few steps behind the Pioneers, and far, far away from danger¡ªall she had to do was support her team with her blood-formed instruments. Easy enough. She wasn¡¯t draining too much of her stamina, either.Stolen story; please report. Is this really what I¡¯m supposed to be doing, though? Just be the ¡®backline¡¯ support? ¡®Supposed¡¯¡ªa word that implied any of them in Team Dahlia had any set roles to play to begin with. Now, she felt she¡¯d made a pretty strong impression on her team back when they first met in that little underground room, and she¡¯d assumed it¡¯d either be her or Muyang who¡¯d be taking the initiative for the rest of the exam, but¡­ that didn¡¯t turn out to be true after all. As she kept whipping her flute cutting notes at the beetles from afar, she looked down at the edges of the clearing and tried to spot their trump card. The Swarmsteel Maker. The girl whose extra arms seemed to have minds of their own whenever it came to building or crafting something. Before Emilia knew it, she¡¯d been swept up by Dahlia¡¯s plans. She¡¯d accepted being the backline support for the team, because the rest of the plan simply made sense: the physically strong and fast ones should be the vanguards keeping the beetles busy, and those who weren¡¯t should be in the back providing supporting fire or disrupting the enemy. She¡¯d agreed with the plan. It was a good plan. But¡­ she should be taking a more active role. All Hasharana were supposed to be main characters wherever they showed up. Nothing was more preposterous than a Hasharana being a mere background character with only supportive capabilities, because how else would people revere them as heroes of the continent? People wouldn¡¯t cheer for a bug-slayer who wouldn¡¯t fight on the frontlines, would they? ¡­ What am I taking this exam for again? Don¡¯t I have to make a name for myself? She didn¡¯t hate fighting, but she didn¡¯t particularly like it, either. She hated overexerting herself. She wasn¡¯t a battle addict like Muyang and Wisnu. She liked the little mushroom hollow they¡¯d made as a team. She liked lazing around on the cushion, gazing up at the stars during the long nights, and going around the forest picking herbs and studying flora she¡¯d never seen back in the east, but she hadn¡¯t run all the way here, away from home in the middle of the night, just to act like a little girl and forget about why she¡¯d even come here in the first place. So she had to fight. She had to show everyone what she was really capable of. Everyone back home was looking up to her, and just the thought of disappointing all of them by achieving less than stellar results in this exam made her feel like buckling over and crying. If she simply stayed as a backline support¡ªif she didn¡¯t dominate and overshadow every other participant in this exam by doing something incredibly, incredibly spectacular¡ªcould she really bring herself to go home and look her fellow classmates in the eye again? Could she look her father in the eye and call herself his daughter? ¡­ Slowly, steadily, she stopped playing her ¡®Ode to Amadeus¡¯ and simply stood there. She dissolved her instruments and sucked her amber blood back under her nails. The Pioneer cast a brief glance at her, likely wondering why she¡¯d stopped playing, but then the beetles screeched and demanded his attention again¡ªhe whirled back around and resumed firing, his hands feeding bullets into his rifles at double the pace to make up for her lack of support. She should stick to the plan. She should at least play her trumpet consistently to buff the strength and toughness of her vanguards again, but she didn¡¯t really feel like doing that anymore. Why shouldn¡¯t she just show her true strength and decimate the beetle twins right here and now? Why shouldn¡¯t she just show everyone¡ªand the Worm God, who was surely watching from afar¡ªwhat she was capable of doing, right here and now? ¡­ I¡¯ll give you one minute, radish girl. It was time to stop showing her lazy self to the participants of this exam. She had to play her role as that man¡¯s daughter. If you don¡¯t end this in one minute, I will.
Otto had half a mind to turn around and shout at Emilia to start playing her music again, but frankly, his attention was already being stretched to its utmost limit. He was a Swarmsteel Maker first, a marksman second. Even if he was lying prone on his stomach and his rifle was set on a swivelling bipod he¡¯d made himself, having to provide fire for two Mutant-Class beetles at once meant he couldn¡¯t blink. He couldn¡¯t breathe. He poured his all into aiming, firing, chambering, then aiming again¡ªhe was just barely keeping up with how fast the beetles were dashing around the clearing, and the vanguards weren¡¯t exactly locking them down to make shooting at them any easier. Still gotta do it! Maybe Emilia was drained. Maybe her stamina was already running thin, and it was up to him to cover for her. Up to him. Whether all of them could safely defeat the Mutant-Classes or not was up to him. ¡­ The beetle twins have impeccable teamwork though, huh? Somehow, his mind wandered a little as he kept firing on repeat¡ªhe remembered the synchronicity drills he used to do in the Rampaging Hinterland Front as a young boy. His parents had entertained his selfishness for many, many years, allowing him to take more than a dozen aptitude tests to see if he had any talent in piloting any Inorganic Armour, but¡­ he never had any. His synchronicity with his crew and teammates were always the lowest of the low. Only the Great Makers knew how much money his parents had spent just to keep entertaining his childish dream of one day being able to pilot ¡®Gigantitania¡¯, the third Arcana Hasharana, but if he couldn¡¯t even pass the aptitude test to pilot the the most basic of Inorganic Armours, he¡¯d never be allowed to even take part in the selection exam to become Gigantitania¡¯s Pilot. He wasn¡¯t stupid. He didn¡¯t want to be selfish. He¡¯d told himself this would be his last year of trying. He¡¯d leave his home, participate in the Hasharana Entrance Exam, return home with an Altered Swarmsteel System that proved he was competent enough to at least take part in the selection exam, and then surprise everyone by being the person most fit to pilot Gigantitania. If he failed, he¡¯d simply go home and hang his head in shame. He¡¯d simply go back to being a normal Swarmsteel Maker. He¡¯d inherit his parent¡¯s factories, carry on their business as Pioneers¡ªengineers who worked on Inorganic Armours¡ªand look on with pride as the Pilots rumbled the world with their colossal armours. And that was why he couldn¡¯t fail here. His dream was still on the line. One, two, three, four shots¡ªhe chambered and fired four shots in the span of a single second, nailing both Mutants in the chest at once as they dodged away from the vanguards. All four anti-chitin shots tore through their torsos and sent them toppling over. They weren¡¯t dead yet¡ªMutant-Classes and above could only be killed by destroying their hearts¡ªbut his bullets were the straws that finally broke the camels¡¯ back. He destroyed the powerful magnets that¡¯d been stopping them from fighting together. Now they could stick to each other and fight with more than double the strength, double the efficiency. ¡­ But Otto couldn¡¯t help but smirk as they scrambled to their feet, staring down Muyang and Wisnu as the two vanguards stood together as well. He¡¯d deliberately aimed to destroy the magnets. I hope you¡¯re right about their behaviour, Dahlia. All was silent in the clearing for a good few seconds. Muyang and Wisnu stood side by side, as did the beetle twins, but the moment they regenerated the hole in their torsos, they decided to run. Make a sprint for it. After all, even if the magnets were destroyed and they could fight as one unit now, they¡¯d still been considerably injured and drained. They needed to jump and burrow into a tree to use their healing Swarmblood Arts, and then they could immediately jump back into the fight to face a significantly weakened and tired Team Dahlia. But all this time, Team Dahlia was missing a ¡®Dahlia¡¯, and now that the beetle twins were joined at the hip, leaping faster than ever before towards a seemingly random tree Otto wouldn¡¯t even have guessed was their target¡­ Go get them, ¡®trap¡¯. Having observed and predicted the beetle twins¡¯ behaviour throughout the entire fight, Dahlia leapt up herself from the trunk of the tree they were dashing towards, her giant warhammer swinging and crackling with lightning. In one overhead swing, she smashed both beetles into the ground with a hefty boom, and Otto immediately fired half a dozen metal stakes into their limbs to impale them to the ground. Day thirty-three, last day of the Hasharana Entrance Exam¡¯s first stage. Both Mutant-Class ambrosia beetles were incapacitated and nailed to the ground, unable to move. Chapter 80 - Farewell Fungi Forest The clearing was silent but for the faint crackling of chitin plates under the iron stakes. The two Mutant-Class ambrosia beetles, each nearly the size of a small carriage, struggled against the stakes shot into their limbs and impaling them to the ground. They most certainly jerked spasmodically, and if they¡¯d been holding any strength back during the entire fight, they weren¡¯t holding back now¡ªso Dahlia didn¡¯t give them a chance to break free and run from the clearing. Tossing her hammer to the side, she dashed between the two impaled beetles and grabbed their iron stakes in each hand. Four stakes, four hands. While the rest of her team rushed forward to check up on the beetles, she closed her eyes and let out a cool, shallow breath. ¡°Swarmblood Art: Stormlure,¡± she whispered. Her black chitin hands gripping the stakes crackled from the strain. Her chest heaved and she panted for breath¡ªthat single second of activating the firefly¡¯s explosion of lightning made sweat drip from her brow, but a single second was all she needed. The lightning sparked from her palms, shot through the stakes, and made the beetle twins screech in pain as golden electricity coursed through their blood. Quickly, though, their struggle slowed, and their once-violent thrashing reduced to feeble shudders. A faint smell of ozone hung in the air alongside the earthy scent of the forest, but by the time the rest of her team reached her, she¡¯d already released the stakes with a quiet gasp and stumbled back, her knees threatening to buckle. Muyang, who¡¯d already taken off his giant beetle helm and was dragging it behind him, caught her by the arm before she could fall. ¡°Are you alright, Miss Dahlia?¡± he asked, calm but just a tad bit worried. She nodded quickly, blinking away the tears that¡¯d gathered in her eyes. ¡°Yeah. Just... needed a second,¡± she mumbled, shaking her arm free and rubbing her sore wrists. ¡°I don¡¯t think¡­ they¡¯ll be moving anymore.¡± Muyang helped her stand upright as the rest of the group gathered. Otto and Emilia dropped down from their tree, their descent light and practiced, while Wisnu lingered a bit further back, her giant sawtooth blade still gripped tightly in both hands as she fixed her sharp gaze on the convulsing beetles. She was right to be wary¡ªDahlia didn¡¯t think any of them saw that super miniscule spark of electricity born on her palms¡ªbut Dahlia didn¡¯t feel like telling them about her Swarmblood Art, so she just let Wisnu be wary for a few more seconds before it became clear. The beetle twins were, all things considered, dead. Now it just came down to giving them their funeral rites. "... Well, that was a workout," Otto said, wiping a bead of sweat from his brow as he adjusted his bag, throwing everyone a wide grin. "Not bad, though! I can¡¯t believe we actually got them! I was half-worried either Wisnu or Muyang would get their heads popped off like a cork!¡± Muyang and Wisnu bumped fists, their smile matching the sense of relief that finally settled over the group. ¡°I agree. We had good teamwork,¡± Wisnu said, before turning to dip her head at Dahlia. ¡°For what it was worth, I did not think you would actually be able to predict their escape routes that accurately. Just how did you realise they were going to dash to that tree in particular in order to use their Swarmblood Art to heal?¡± Dahlia gave a faint smile, though it didn¡¯t quite reach her eyes. Her fingers flexed unconsciously, her mind replaying the moments before the ambush: she¡¯d spent what felt like an eternity studying the beetles¡¯ movements, trying to decipher their attack patterns. It¡¯d been exhausting, both mentally and physically, and her eyes were still watering from how intensely she¡¯d been staring at them, but¡­ reading and understanding bugs was her thing. It was her talent. Maybe it was the assassin bug blood in her, or maybe she¡¯d just spent too many hours reading that bug encyclopaedia, but when the beetles started to run¡ªwhen the opportunity showed itself¡ªshe hadn¡¯t hesitated. Silver flowers bloomed on the tree they were going to jump towards, so all she did was jump up and intercept them with her hammer. I can¡¯t quite tell them about my assassin bug abilities, though. [Yep.] But should I? Wisnu looks like she really, really, really wants to know¨C [Nope.] So, to Wisnu¡¯s disappointment, all Dahlia could offer was a disinterested shrug as a response. While Wisnu turned away and tried to hide her sulking, Otto stepped forward to nudge one of the beetle¡¯s heads with his foot. ¡°So¡­ this is it, right? We¡¯ve passed the exam. Now all we have to do is kill them.¡± Wisnu straightened her back and stood at attention with her greatsword planted before her, pommel clasped in her hands. ¡°As per the prior agreement, I will be forfeiting this exam.¡± ¡°Mister Otto will kill one of the beetles,¡± Muyang said, frowning distastefully down at the bugs, ¡°and one of us from Team Dahlia will kill the other one. I am not inclined to kill prey that cannot fight back. It is dishonourable.¡± Emilia crossed her arms behind her head and mumbled, ¡°says the man who definitely didn¡¯t stick magnets on them just to weaken them¨C¡± ¡°¨Cthat was a strategic decision, and it was very honourable¨C¡± ¡°I can do it,¡± Dahlia said, raising her hand slowly as she struggled to pull her hammer out of the dirt. ¡°I¡­ wanna be the one to kill it.¡± All eyes turned to her. Otto¡¯s expression was one of mild surprise, while Emilia¡¯s was unreadable. Muyang¡¯s brow furrowed, but he didn¡¯t say anything. ¡°You sure?¡± Otto asked, looking slightly concerned. ¡°You look¡­ winded. Did that one swing take that much out of you?¡± Dahlia gulped. So they really hadn¡¯t noticed her lightning after all. ¡°Yeah. But it¡¯s not a problem who kills it, right? Unless¡­ Emilia, you want to¨C¡± ¡°No, I don¡¯t,¡± Emilia said, waving dismissively as she turned away. ¡°Do what you will.¡± ¡­Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more. Dahlia was glad she didn¡¯t have to elaborate. In truth, her reasons were far from simple. She wanted to know the conditions of activating her Swarmblood Art, because the magic to ¡®use the Swarmblood Arts of all bugs she defeated and devoured¡¯ wasn¡¯t very specific. Just what, exactly, counted as her ¡®defeating¡¯ a bug? Would she have to wring the life out of the beetle and eat its heart with her bare hands? Could she smash its heart apart and then just eat a random chunk of its flesh? [I¡¯m curious, too.] [Eating Mutant-Class flesh is easy enough, but depending on what ¡®defeat¡¯ means exactly, it may or may not be extremely troublesome for you to collect more Swarmblood Arts.] Wouldn¡¯t you know? [I don¡¯t.] [Even as a fusion between the Archive and the Bloodline, there has never been an Assassin Bug Class user before with this specific Swarmblood Art.] [I imagine, if there is an actual Mutant-Class assassin bug out there in the world, that they do not worry so much about specific wordings and simply use their magic as but another part of their everyday life.] [All Swarmblood Arts that humans can use via system classes are, after all, derivatives and copies of Swarmblood Arts that have been observed and used by powerful bugs before.] ¡­ Doesn¡¯t that mean there had to have been a Mutant-Class or above assassin bug before? If I¡¯m using an Assassin Bug Class, then¨C [But the database of the Archives show no such record, and I know nothing about any Mutant-Class or above assassin bug as the Bloodline, either.] [Is this a deliberate gap in my information, or am I¡­] [...] Kari didn¡¯t finish its sentence, and Dahlia, for her part, wasn¡¯t too interested in continuing this line of thought either. They¡¯d have plenty of time to think after the exam was over. ¡°Alright, then,¡± Otto said, his tone casual as he slung his rifle off his shoulder. ¡°Once we¡¯re done here, let¡¯s meet up back in the city. Drinks on me if they let me keep the carcass.¡± ¡°Drinks at a fancy inn, no doubt,¡± Emilia muttered. Otto grinned. ¡°You know it. I¡¯m staying at Golden Cicada Inn in the northwestern part of the city, by the way. Look for me there once you¡¯re out.¡± Muyang dipped his head politely. ¡°I will be there.¡± Wisnu did the same. ¡°I would like to exchange farewell pleasantries with all of you before I depart from the city as well. Please excuse my presence even though I will not be a participant in the second stage of the exam.¡± ¡°Oh, come on.¡± Otto sighed, glancing up to wink at Wisnu. ¡°I¡¯ll buy you extra drinks. I wouldn¡¯t be here if it weren¡¯t for you, after all.¡± With that said, he turned his attention to the first beetle, raising his rifle. The weapon gleamed in the sunlight, its polished barrel catching the light as he took aim at its chest. ¡°Let¡¯s see... one heart shot should do it,¡± he murmured. The rest of them stepped back, giving him space. The moment felt heavy, the air thick with anticipation¡ªthen Otto squeezed the trigger. One bullet. The anti-chitin round rang out, sharp and deafening, echoing through the forest, but the actual bullet pierced through its chest with a spark of fire. The beetle on the left jerked once before falling still, its body lifeless. Then, without warning, glowing blue wormholes opened beneath both the slain and the slayers. ¡°What the¨C¡± Otto¡¯s voice cut off as he fell through, swallowed by the swirling vortex. Then both wormholes closed as quickly as they¡¯d appeared, leaving nothing behind but an empty patch of dirt where the two of them had been. For a moment, no one moved. ¡°... Well,¡± Emilia said finally, breaking the silence. ¡°Glad to know we¡¯re actually being observed. It¡¯d suck if we had to walk all the way back to the city with the carcass in hand.¡± Dahlia adjusted her grip on the hammer, the weight of it both comforting and daunting in her hands as she trudged over to the remaining. While she prepared herself for the killing blow¡ªshe was just going to smash its chest in and hope that counted as ¡®defeated¡¯¡ªMuyang turned to Wisnu, extending a hand. ¡°You are an honorable noble, Wisnu Balam Hunahpu,¡± he said. ¡°You fought alongside us without hesitation and without reward. I respect that.¡± Wisnu shook his hand in return, her grip firm. ¡°It was simply my duty to give it my all,¡± she said, her tone measured but with a hint of gratitude. ¡°I will see you again in the Golden Cicada Inn, yes?¡± ¡°We wil. I will be waiting¨C¡± ¡°My god, just get a room already,¡± Emilia groaned, chopping their hands apart so she could shake Wisnu¡¯s hand as well. ¡°Yes, yes, for what it¡¯s worth, you were pretty good. Nice swordsmanship. A hundred times better than my dad¡¯s.¡± Wisnu finally turned to Dahlia, but she was already holding her hammer with all four hands, so Wisnu resorted to bowing slightly instead. ¡°Thank you as well, Miss Dahlia. I will figure out what your insect class is one day, though¨C¡± ¡°Get in line,¡± Dahlia and Alice mumbled. Chuckling softly, Wisnu gave one more faint smile. ¡°Well, I will be back here next year. Or the year after that, if I can find the time.¡± She paused for a moment, her eyes distant as she glared down at the beetle. ¡°Though¡­ after this year, I suspect I may not have the luxury to register for the Hasharana Entrance Exam again. I will be coming of age, so I may not be able to afford leaving my homeland.¡± A small pang of sadness twisted in Dahlia¡¯s chest. Wisnu had given everything to the team, yet her path forward seemed so uncertain. If there was something Dahlia could do, she most certainly would try¡­ but as she gripped her hammer tight and prepared to swing, she didn¡¯t expect her antennae to twitch involuntarily. Something was wrong. ¡­ Kari. I feel¨C Her danger instincts flared suddenly, catching a faint disturbance in the air. She froze and whirled to the right just as Emilia shouted a shrill, warping note that wrapped all four of them in a sound barrier¡ªbut the projectile that sliced through the air wasn¡¯t aimed at them. A soft thud and a quiet hiss was all Dahlia heard before she slowly looked around, eyes widening at the glowing syringe sticking out of the remaining beetle¡¯s neck. Within seconds, the beetle started convulsing violently, and by the time Muyang thought to stomp the syringe into little glass shards, it was already too late. A feather-cloaked figure hopped down from a branch at the edge of the clearing, cackling. ¡°... This is how a Plagueplain Doctor fights,¡± Blaire said, her voice dripping with smugness as she approached the four of them, not a single syringe, blade, or weapon held in her hands. Wisnu¡¯s face contorted with rage as she gripped her giant sawtooth blade. Her voice was a low growl. ¡°You. What do you think you¡¯re doing?¡± ¡°Just proving a point,¡± Blaire replied, a wicked grin spreading across her face. ¡°You all were so busy with your little goodbyes, you forgot the most basic rule of the exam: anyone can interfere. And now you¡¯ve lost your kill, little miss cicada, mister beetle, miss¡­ whatever the fuck you¡¯re supposed to be.¡± There was no hesitation. No thinking. Wisnu let out a roar of fury and charged at Blaire, her sawtooth blade gleaming as it sliced through the air. Blaire stood her ground, her grin never faltering, even as Wisnu closed the gap in an instant¡ªand just as Wisnu swung her blade at Blaire¡¯s neck, the beetle gave one last, violent shudder and went still. The poison had done its job. Three wormholes opened. One swallowed the beetle¡¯s carcass, but another opened in Wisnu¡¯s leaping trajectory, and the last opened beneath Blaire¡¯s feet. All three of them disappeared into the swirling vortexes they closed as abruptly as they¡¯d appeared. Then the clearing fell into silence once more. Dahlia lowered her hammer slowly, her knuckles white against the handle. ¡°... She killed it,¡± Dahlia whispered, her voice barely audible. Muyang¡¯s jaw tightened as he stared at the spot where Blaire had stood moments ago. ¡°She killed it,¡± he echoed, his voice flat. Dahlia turned to Emilia, her antennae twitching with uncertainty. ¡°What¡­ what now? Why are we still here? Are we¡­ supposed to stay here until the duration of the exam is over, even though the beetles are already dead?¡± Emilia didn¡¯t answer immediately, her eyes still locked on the now-empty space in front of them. Muyang said nothing either, his hand gripping the edge of his giant beetle helm so tightly that the chitin started to crack. For Dahlia¡¯s part, she was about to grab Emilia¡¯s shoulder and shake the cicada girl out of her paralysis when a colossal shadow fluttered over the clearing. Danger. Death. Her antennae twitched again. She tilted her head back, her eyes widening as she caught sight of the bug soaring over the mushroom caps¡ªand the Mutant-Class sun moth¡¯s glowing red eyes were unblinking and alien as it glared back at all of them. Muyang shouted at the two of them to move as the moth¡¯s eyes started swirling, charging up a beam of pure, blinding fire. Chapter 81 - Child of Magic The moment the sun moth¡¯s pillar of fire struck, the world erupted into chaos. A torrent of searing flames thundered down, blasting through the colossal fungi forest with a deafening roar. The shockwave hit like a fist, cracking trees like brittle twigs and igniting the colossal mushroom caps in an explosion of smoke and ash. Heat scorched the air, turning it thick and suffocating. ¡­ Oh no. Dahlia barely registered Muyang¡¯s arms hooking beneath her and Emilia, the ground vanishing beneath her feet. Her stomach lurched as the beetle man ran. He wasn¡¯t sprinting¡ªhe was tearing through the forest, every step a thunderous impact as roots, dirt, and shattered debris exploded around him. The earth shook behind them. Dahlia twisted her head to look¡ªregretting it instantly. A second pillar of fire smashed into the ground, swallowing entire mushroom trees whole. A third pillar of fire detonated another colossal mushroom, releasing plumes of toxic spores and dust into the already blistering air. The light of the flames burned into her retinas, searing through her mind like a warning: Don¡¯t stop. Don¡¯t look back. If even one of those pillars hit us, we¡¯re dead. Muyang didn¡¯t slow. He barreled forward, dodging around splintered trunks and rubble. The wind whipped against Dahlia¡¯s face, stealing her breath. Her teeth rattled as he leapt over a massive root, landing so hard the shock punched through her spine. ¡°Can¡¯t you go any faster?¡± Emilia said, almost too casually as she twisted in his grip to look back. ¡°It¡¯s gonna catch up at this rate, and it¡¯s not like there are tons of trees left for us to hide under, anyways. It¡¯s been a whole month since we started. We¡¯ll reach the edge of the arena pretty soon!¡± ¡°I am trying to run, Miss Emilia¡ª¡± A low, vibrating hum cut through the air¡ªa sound so loud it made Dahlia¡¯s antennae stand up straight, her bones ache. She turned her head again, panic tightening her throat. The Mutant-Class sun moth, thirty metres long, swept above the mushroom canopy like a living storm cloud, its white scales shimmering with fire. Every beat of its wings sent shockwaves through the forest. mushroom caps disintegrating into flaming shreds. Molten orange light bled from its giant beady eyes as it continued honing in on them, and this time, its mouth was aglow with swirling, gathering power. Dahlia¡¯s heart seized. [Tell Muyang to¨C] ¡°It¡¯s coming again!¡± she cried, her voice breaking. Muyang¡¯s grip tightened around her ribs as he threw himself sideways. A second later, the moth¡¯s strongest pillar of fire yet obliterated the ground where they¡¯d been. The fire slammed into the earth with the force of a falling mountain, scorching a crater, and the air turned white-hot. Dahlia screamed as waves of heat lashed against her skin, embers burning through her antlion cloak. Muyang lost his footing. The shockwave knocked him off balance¡ªDahlia felt him lurch violently¡ªand then she was falling. Both her and Emilia. She hit the ground hard, pain slamming into her side like a hammer, and she had to consciously hold onto her Amalgamated Hammer with all her might. Her Swarmguard Arms moved automatically to brace her head, but it was just to minimise the hurt. Something still went crack in her sides as she tumbled across the dirt, rolling over jagged roots and stones until she came to a gasping stop. ¡°Miss Dahlia! Miss Emilia!¡± Muyang¡¯s shout broke through the haze. She forced herself upright, pain screaming through her limbs. The ground where they¡¯d stood moments ago was gone¡ªa crater of blackened earth and smoldering ash. Trees had been shattered into splinters, their remains glowing orange in the ruin. Dahlia coughed, her lungs raw. The air stank of burning wood, spores, and sulfur. Every breath tasted like ash. [Get up, Dahlia!] [Focus!] [You¡¯re still alive, so you can still fight!] Dahlia staggered to her feet, legs trembling. Muyang was already up, hauling his giant beetle helm behind her, and Emilia was standing perfectly still as she dusted soil off her shoulders. Dahlia frowned at the cicada girl for a moment¡ªEmilia seemed far too calm and steady despite having watched Blaire steal their prey from right under their noses¡ªbut a deep, tremendous bellow from the front tore her gaze away from her teammates. The sun moth was coming again. It swept low through the final colossal mushrooms in the entire forest, its molten eyes fixed on them. Fire bled from its mouth in thin streams as it swirled and gathered another blast, the very air around it shimmering with heat. ¡­ Can we beat that, Kari? A C-Rank Mutant-Class sun moth? Kari didn¡¯t respond immediately. Dahlia¡¯s four hands were gripping tightly onto her hammer, but her strength was long spent. She¡¯d used most of it when she used her Art to zap and incapacitate the beetles. [I don¡¯t know,] Kari admitted. [But you must try nevertheless.] Dahlia wasn¡¯t of the same mind, though. The entire desert was around them. They could still try to make a break for it¡ªrace out onto the dunes and hope the sun moth would lose their tiny forms in the shifting sea of sand¡ªbut Muyang was scowling, grimacing, and putting his giant beetle helm over his head. He wasn¡¯t planning on running. And neither was Emilia, who stepped in front of them without a word. ¡­ Huh? Dahlia tilted her head quizzically as Emilia straightened, her back rigid and her chin lifted. Dust streaked the cicada girl¡¯s face and sweat beaded down her skin, but her expression was calm. Steady as ever. Her gaze was fixed on the sun moth in front of them, solid as stone. ¡°Alright,¡± she whispered, sounding almost¡­ giddy? ¡°Let¡¯s go home.¡± Then, the air around Emilia thickened. Dahlia felt it¡ªsomething sharp and suffocating pressing down on her chest, as if the very atmosphere was being crushed. Her aura. It was being overshadowed by another. Emilia exhaled slowly, and the ground seemed to shudder beneath her feet. The killing pressure that followed hit like a physical blow. Muyang grunted and took a step back. Dahlia¡¯s knees buckled. She clutched her chest, her Swarmguards Arms braced her face, and her breath hitched as the full weight of Emilia¡¯s aura slammed into her. [... What is this?] Kari mused. [This killing pressure¡ªthis isn¡¯t normal for a participant of the Hasharana Entrance Exam.] [This girl¡­ is¡­] Kari never ended up finishing her sentence. Because as the Mutant-Class sun moth continued barrelling straight at them, preparing to fire its strongest, fiercest beam of fire yet, Emilia rubbed her throat and began singing a song. An ¡®anthem¡¯. And Dahlia¡¯s heart skipped a beat as Emilia¡¯s aura engulfed what was left of the colossal fungi forest.
Jiayin ran an arrowhead down her whetstone as she kicked back on her couch, slow and deliberate. The rhythmic shhhk, shhhk filled the observation room, the only sound cutting through the quiet. She was bored. The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. Across the room, Alice was sprawled out and dozed off on a long velvet couch, arms thrown over her face and snoring aloud. William sat on a rocking chair next to the honeycomb glass screens embedded in the walls, eyes fixed on the murder mystery novel in his hands. None of them had talked to each other in days¡ªthey¡¯d shared a few drinks and took turns grabbing food from the city¡¯s diners every once in a while, but after the first hundred or so participants died rather unceremoniously, they stopped paying so much attention to the goings of the exam. It wasn¡¯t until a few minutes ago that she felt a wormhole opening in the room next door to drop a Pioneer through, and even then, she wasn¡¯t too inclined to greet their first passing participant in person. Two more people dropped out of another wormhole a minute ago, landing in the same room as the Pioneer, but the first stage wasn¡¯t quite over yet. Even if the twin beetles had been slain, the exam wasn¡¯t going to end until the time limit was reached, or until every single Mutant-Class in the forest was slain. And Jiayin could wait a few more hours until the time limit was reached. She¡¯d already waited so long to be free of the tiny observation room. Then William stiffened all of a sudden. A ripple of killing intent rolled through the room like an unseen wave. Subtle, yet unmistakable. Jiayin stopped sharpening her arrowhead. Alice moaned and rolled around in her sleep. William¡¯s mouth curled into a grin as he looked up and around at the honeycomb glass screens, all broadcasting live footage of the Mutant-Class sun moth swooping down at the final team of participants from a hundred aerial angles. ¡°... Say, Jiayin,¡± he murmured, ¡°how much did you spend on nurturing the sun moth again?¡± Jiayin stared at the sun moth through the screens for a few more moments before shrugging, looking back down at her whetstone. ¡°A few hundred thousand silvers over the past four or so years,¡± she said, mumbling under her breath as she resumed sharpening her arrowhead. ¡°Why do you ask?¡± ¡°You won¡¯t miss it, right?¡± ¡°How so?¡± ¡°You¡¯re the invigilator of the first stage,¡± he said pointedly. ¡°You take a look.¡± Sighing, Jiayin wiped her arrowhead clean and turned her attention to the honeycomb screens again. Live footage from the colossal fungi forest filled all of them¡ªmushroom canopy in flames, trees blackened and collapsing under molten heat. In ninety-nine out of a hundred frames, the sun moth was surging downwards forward, a living firestorm barreling down on its prey. In the last frame, three tiny participants stood defiantly in its way. Small. Insignificant. She could barely make out any of their features. ¡°My moth will be fine,¡± she said, unimpressed. William raised a brow, pushing up his glasses with a small smile. ¡°Fine?¡± ¡°They¡¯ll lose, obviously.¡± Jiayin didn¡¯t even pause. ¡°It took me years before I even killed my first sun moth. Years. And I caught that one myself five years ago before spending a few hundred thousand silvers feeding it, modifying it, strengthening it¡ªI can¡¯t claim to have ¡®tamed¡¯ the bug like the Tamera from the far east do, but I put a fortune into that thing. No way three participants are taking it down.¡± ¡°You sure about that?¡± Jiayin frowned faintly at the tone in his voice, and she tore her gaze away from the screens to scowl at him. ¡°And just what are you getting at?¡± The man was just about to answer when she heard it. Music. A thin, sharp sound drifted from the screens. It started as a whisper, fragile and strange against the faint crackling flames of the forest. But it grew. Swelled. It was¡­ an anthem. Familiar. More than familiar. High, shrill notes cut through the air, scratching at her ears, echoing through the forest, into the satellite moths capturing the footage, and into the observation room where all three of them sat in waiting. Jiayin blinked. The air in the observation room changed. Heavy. Electric. Fiery. Her eyes darted to William, then to the snoring Alice, then back to the screens. Without warning, all one hundred panels of honeycomb glass started to shimmer¡ªthen they cracked. Tiny fractures spiderwebbed outwards, faint at first, then sharp and sudden. Crack. Crack. Crack. Jiayin narrowed her eyes. Every screen was still showing the same thing: the sun moth diving through a forest ablaze, its wings leaving trails of fire in its wake. Its eyes glowed molten orange¡ªtwo suns of fury ready to obliterate the forest and everything in it. And there, small as an ant before a storm, stood one of the participants surrounded by a barrier of physical sound waves¡ªthe sound waves of a Cicada Musician¡ªbut there was something a little¡­ off about the musician. The girl was singing the anthem by herself. Seven pitches with one voice. And the air trembled around her, as if her aura couldn¡¯t bear to even cling around her own body. The music grew louder. The anthem grew louder. The girl screamed her anthem into its crescendo, and then¡ªdetonation. Right before the sun moth could unleash its flame pillar, a shockwave ripped outwards from the girl, shredding the moth like paper. Its massive body exploded midair. Wings, carapace, fire, and light splintered apart. The force hit the forest like a bomb. Flames from the shredded moth spilled from the sky in sheets, and the shockwave flattened the few remaining colossal mushrooms in the forest. The sound shattered the honeycomb screens, too. As every standing tree erupted into flames and mushroom caps shattered into ash, Jiayin whipped her bow over her head to protect herself from the falling glass shrapnel. And as the Cicada Musician played the fading, closing notes of her anthem on that one honeycomb screen that¡¯d been focused on the participants¡ªthat one screen that hadn¡¯t shattered from the music¡ªJiayin narrowed her eyes, her voice low and cold. ¡°... That participant,¡± she said, ¡°who is she?¡± William already had the answer. He grabbed a thick book from under his chair and flipped to a marked page. ¡°According to the exam registry¡­¡± He turned the book toward her. ¡°The Cicada Musician is simply listed as ¡®Emilia.¡¯ No household name. No origin.¡± Jiayin¡¯s scowl deepened as she stared at the scrawny signature on the page. ¡°Tch. ¡®No household name¡¯, my ass.¡± Her eyes snapped back to the screen. ¡°That¡¯s Zora¡¯s kid.¡± Alice sat up straight, rubbing her eyes and pulling glass shards out of her hair as she blinked at Jiayin. ¡°Did someone say the Magician?¡± ¡°Ranked two of the Arcana Hasharana, and the third strongest human alive after me and Enki,¡± William said, humming lightheartedly as he returned to reading his novel. ¡°I had my suspicions when I saw her name in the registry, but I had to actually see those amber eyes before I confirmed anything.¡± Jiayin ignored Alice¡¯s loud yawns, her gaze still locked onto the screen. ¡°If Zora knew she was coming here, he should¡¯ve stopped her.¡± ¡°There¡¯s no rule saying that one person cannot be in two bug-slaying organisations at the same time. She can be a Cicada Musician of the Long March and a Hasharana of the Worm God.¡± ¡°It¡¯s not about rules. It¡¯s about balance! Do you know how much effort I put into keeping that sun moth alive? Enhancing it? That bug was supposed to last for¡­ five years, at least!¡± William chuckled. ¡°Guess she didn¡¯t get the memo.¡± Her glare could¡¯ve split stone. ¡°This isn¡¯t funny. I¡¯m filing a complaint with Amadeus Academy. She shouldn¡¯t have been allowed here.¡± Jiayin turned away sharply, her eyes drawn back to the screen once again. The destruction still flickered across the feed¡ªblackened forest, smoldering ground, and three tiny figures standing alone in the wreckage. The participants were still alive, and the final Mutant-Class had been slain. ¡°... I¡¯d say she¡¯s the second strongest participant we¡¯ve had in a decade,¡± William said softly, almost to himself. ¡°She¡¯s Zora¡¯s daughter alright.¡± Jiayin¡¯s jaw was tight, her eyes cold. ¡°And who¡¯s the first?¡± William¡¯s gaze slid to Alice. The young girl had woken up to take a peek at the surviving participants only to fall asleep again, and now, she was snoring softly on her couch once more. Jiayin clicked her tongue. ¡°Thought so,¡± she grumbled, grabbing her bow and quiver as she stood up and headed for the door. ¡°Send the participant list to my room after this. I¡¯m double-checking the rest of the people who passed the first stage.¡± William returned to his novel. ¡°Will do. Handle the debriefing, and then let¡¯s all go out for lunch in that chic far northwestern-style cafe. Twelfth Aphid Street.¡± ¡°The debriefing will go faster if you¡¯re there.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll join you in a bit. I¡¯m on the penultimate chapter¨C¡± ¡°The murderer is the head servant. She did it because nine years ago, the protagonist¡¯s father killed her previous master.¡± ¡°Fuck you.¡±
¡­ The world was fire and ash. Flames crackled around Dahlia as she stood frozen, her breaths thin and ragged. What remained of the colossal fungi forest was nothing but blackened stalks, crumbling in the heat like ancient pillars, and the air shimmered with smoke, thick and acrid. The bloody remains of the sun moth lay strewn in every direction. Great swaths of its body had been shredded mid-air, pieces of its wings still glowing faintly as they burned. Its molten eyes were gone. Obliterated. In hours, the golden desert surrounding them would extinguish the flames and wash over the fungi forest, burying it as though this entire forest and its inhabitants had never existed in the first place. Somehow, both Dahlia and Muyang had managed to stay on their feet, but only one of them was really ¡®standing¡¯ tall and proud. Emilia stood before them among the wreckage, her cloak and blouse damp with sweat, her braided hair having come loose and clinging to her face in damp strands. Around them, the physical sound wave barrier that''d protected them dissipated slowly, and the final echoes of her solo performance had faded, replaced by the steady pop and snap of embers scattered across the charred earth. Dahlia¡¯s heart continued skipping beats in her chest, a heavy rhythm she couldn¡¯t shake. Her knees were weak. She didn¡¯t dare move. She didn¡¯t dare speak. And when Emilia turned around to face the two of them, she wore a carefree, lopsided grin. One that didn¡¯t match the destruction around her. Her amber eyes glittered, bright and unbothered. Despite the sweat and the obvious exhaustions across all her limbs, she looked like someone who¡¯d just finished a casual walk¡ªnot someone who¡¯d reduced a C-Rank Mutant-Class sun moth to pieces. ¡°... Whoops.¡± Emilia rubbed the back of her neck, glancing sheepishly at the stunned expressions on their faces. ¡°Guess the jig¡¯s up, huh?¡± Dahlia blinked. Her mind raced, but the words wouldn¡¯t come. ¡®The jig¡¯s up?¡¯ That¡¯s all she has to say? After¡­ that? A low hum rippled through the air, and suddenly¡ªshimmering voids. Glowing blue wormholes began to spiral open beneath their feet, slow and deliberate, thrumming faintly at the edges. Dahlia instinctively tried to stumble back, but unless she wanted to wade out onto scorched earth, there was no ground left to move to. Emilia, unfazed, extended two hands to each of them, knowing neither of them were close enough to actually reach her. ¡°I¡¯m Emilia Fabre. Daughter of the Magician, ranked third of the Arcana Hasharana,¡± she said casually. ¡°I¡¯ve had my fun lazing around, so I¡¯ll be taking over the second and third stages of the exam from now on.¡± There was no opportunity for Dahlia to even think about shaking her hand. The wormholes beneath their feet opened completely, and the ground dropped out from under them. Chapter 82 - Debriefing The wormhole spat Dahlia out like bones discarded from a feast, and before she knew it, she hit the smooth sandstone floor with a solid thud. Her ribs flared in protest as she tumbled to a stop. Muyang landed beside her in a crouch, his movements practiced, steady. Emilia wasn¡¯t so lucky; she rolled into the base of a cracked sandstone pillar with a yelp, clutching at her elbow. A far cry from the impossibly overwhelming bug-slayer she¡¯d been just seconds ago. As Dahlia groaned and pushed herself to her feet, using her hammer as a crutch, she glanced around and realised where she was. The sandstone chamber was familiar, but the familiarity didn¡¯t bring any comfort. It was the foyer of the temple¡ªthe same one she¡¯d entered the first day of the exam in the City of Feasts. Carved sandstone arches stretched overhead, their surfaces worn smooth by time and turmoil. A few firefly lanterns hung from the pillars, casting shaky light across the walls. Her pulse immediately quickened. There were others here apart from Team Dahlia. Otto stood with his back against a pillar, his expression hard and distant, still holding his rifle in his hands. Wisnu stood by an archway, arms crossed, her narrowed eyes flicking between everyone in the chamber¡ªbut they mostly lingered on Blaire. The mosquito-masked doctor sat in the middle of the chamber, legs kicked out as if this were all beneath her, a lazy smile tugging at her lips. Dahlia could practically feel the killing pressures thickening, as sharp and heavy as the air after a sandstorm; it didn¡¯t help that Muyang and Emilia crawled to their feet seconds after and noticed Blaire as well, sending murderous glares her way. Why¡­ are we back here? Is this¡ª Dahlia didn¡¯t get the chance to finish her thought. The sound of footsteps behind her drew her attention to the entrance of the temple. She whirled¡ªas did everyone¡ªto see two figures stepping into view, backlit by harsh sunlight outside the temple. She could only see their silhouettes, sunlight mightily fierce behind them as they were, but she¡¯d recognise that bow and quiver held by the lady on the left anywhere. The Sun. And the man next to her¡­ the Fool, maybe? ¡°... Congratulations, survivors,¡± the Sun said, her voice bright and cutting. She clapped her hands once, and the sound echoed across the sandstone chamber like a hammer striking. ¡°The first stage of the Hasharana Entrance Exam is over. All three Mutant-Classes have been slain.¡± Dahlia¡¯s stomach twisted at the word ¡®survivors¡¯. It was too sharp, too heavy. A bit too cheap as well. It pressed against her ribs like a weight she couldn¡¯t shake, because she just realised that if there were only six of them here, it meant the other two hundred or so participants didn¡¯t make it out of the fungi forest alive. Around her, she caught glimpses of the others¡¯ reactions. Muyang grimaced as he leaned against his giant beetle helm, Otto narrowed his eyes at the Sun, while Emilia smiled proudly, her expression unreadable. Wisnu was all sharp edges, her glare still fixed squarely on Blaire. And Blaire¡­ well, Blaire still looked like she didn¡¯t care about any of it. She was the only one still seated on the ground, legs kicked out, head tilted back so she was staring straight up at the ceiling. That, more than anything, made Dahlia¡¯s skin crawl. ¡°There are three teams that passed,¡± the Sun continued, her gaze sweeping over them slowly. ¡°Six of you in total. Let¡¯s see¡­¡± Dahlia felt her breath catch as the Sun named them one by one. ¡°The Pioneer from the Rampaging Hinterland Front, Heir of the Glasbrenner Household, Makers of Gigantitinia,¡± the Sun said, nodding at Otto, who didn¡¯t so much as blink. ¡°The Noble-Blood from the Attini Empire Front, Widow of the Beast of Ka¡¯lan.¡± Wisnu inclined her head slightly, her jaw tight. ¡°The Plagueplain Doctor from the Plagueplain Front, Exile of the Orphanage of Judgement,¡± Blaire didn¡¯t even flinch, still lounging like she had nowhere better to be. ¡°The Beetle Dancer from the Hellfire Caldera Front. Hello, Muyang. It¡¯s been a while since I saw you.¡± Muyang gave a graceful bow, though he looked reluctant to acknowledge his fellow bug-slayer from the north. ¡°The Cicada Musician from the Long March, Child of the Magician,¡± Emilia straightened, her chin lifting just a fraction. ¡°And¡­ Dahlia Sina of the Alshifa Undertown.¡± Her name hit like a pebble thrown into a still pond. Dahlia felt her pulse spike as all eyes turned to her. She could feel the weight of their gazes, and it made her throat tighten. Her palms were clammy, but she clenched them into fists, forcing herself to stand a little straighter. It¡¯s just a name. So what if I don¡¯t have a title yet? She nodded quickly, not trusting herself to speak. ¡°... Yep. That¡¯s six of you,¡± the Sun said, her smile turning almost wolfish. ¡°Six who clawed your way through chaos and carnage to stand here. Most likely, that number will be whittled down a few more in stage two, but hey¡ªthat¡¯s part of the fun. Anyway, you¡¯ve all earned yourself a short break. It¡¯ll be three weeks until the second stage of the exam begins. Use the time however you like. Rest, train, explore the city, whatever. We proctors need time to¡­ verify a few things on our end.¡± ¡°What about the points?¡± Otto¡¯s voice sliced through the air like a blade. He didn¡¯t look at the Sun as he spoke; his focus was still locked on Blaire, his words cold and clipped. ¡°We killed the Mutant-Classes. It¡¯d be a waste if¡ª¡± ¡°All three Mutant-Class carcasses will be butchered by a trusted chef of ours,¡± the Sun replied, unfazed. ¡°Points will be split evenly among those who killed them. The bug meat will be delivered to your places of residency in a few days, so relax, kid. You¡¯ll get your rewards soon enough.¡± Dahlia caught a flicker of irritation on Otto¡¯s face as the Sun spoke, though he didn¡¯t say anything more. ¡°Nothing more you want to ask? Good,¡± the Sun said, clapping her hands again. ¡°That settles it for the debriefing. If I have questions for any of you, I¡¯d nab you in the middle of the night. See you back here in three weeks.¡± The floor shifted beneath Dahlia again before she could process what was happening. Wormholes opened under all of their feet, and her breath caught, her legs locked¡ªand then she was falling again.
As the participants yelped and dropped through the second set of wormholes, Jiayin let out a long, audible sigh¡ªthe kind that made even the air around her feel heavier. She was tired already. Without ceremony, she turned and walked outside the temple, then dropped at the very top of the sandstone staircase. She leaned back on her palms, her eyes drawn to the bazaar and city sprawled out before her. So early in the morning, the City of Feasts was absolutely alive with motion and noise, its labyrinthine streets crowded with merchants hawking wares, performers spinning stories in bursts of music and flame, and countless others just trying to carve out a life in the desert. Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings. The heat clung to her skin like a second layer, but it wasn¡¯t the sun making her mood sour. William stepped up beside her, his jacket catching the faint breeze as he lowered himself to the ground with an exaggerated groan. ¡°You look like someone just told you the wine¡¯s run out,¡± he said, propping his chin on his hand. His lopsided grin tugged at his lips, though his eyes flicked toward her with a trace of curiosity. ¡°So? What do you think?¡± Jiayin didn¡¯t answer right away. Instead, she tilted her head back, letting the sun glare against her closed eyelids. ¡°... This year¡¯s participants aren¡¯t half-bad,¡± she said finally. ¡°They¡¯re all a little wack, but they¡¯re decently strong.¡± William snorted. ¡°Never thought I¡¯d ever hear ¡®wack¡¯ coming out of your mouth.¡± ¡°But there¡¯s that rumour around these streets, and those spider web murders a few weeks ago,¡± she murmured, staring in the direction of the distant alley, eyes narrowing. ¡°You¡¯re a murder mystery lover. Can you deduce who the murderer is?¡± William¡¯s grin faded, replaced by a knowing look. ¡°Ah. That rumour.¡± Jiayin didn¡¯t need to elaborate. ¡°Apparently, two of them are here,¡± she said, her voice dropping into a near growl. ¡°We¡¯ll have to be vigilant. Careful. There may be three Arcana Hasharana in this city if we include little Alice amongst our ranks, but you know what Zora says¡ª¡± ¡°At least two Arcana Hasharana for every Insect God,¡± William finished, shrugging. ¡°But I can take on ten Insect Gods at once. What¡¯s there to worry about?¡± Jiayin snorted. ¡°You can take on a hundred Insect Gods at once if you want. Hell, you can probably fight all seven Greater Insect Gods at once as well. Doesn¡¯t mean you can win¡ªjust means you can¡¯t lose, and that¡¯s the only reason why you¡¯re the second strongest human in the world.¡± ¡°Ouch.¡± ¡°I¡¯d rather have Zora here. At least he can actually deal with the two of them here. You¡¯ll just end up being the punching bag throughout this entire exam, huh?¡± ¡°Oh, but there are things only a punching bag can do,¡± William said, chuckling softly as he did. ¡°Not to worry. If you can take one and Alice can take one, that¡¯s one Arcana Hasharana for each Insect God. Considering the Long March is on standby outside the city, we just need our six participants to step up if the situation calls for it.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not letting the kids fight our battles.¡± ¡°Little Alice is younger than almost all of them. You don¡¯t have a problem siccing her on an Insect God.¡± ¡°Because she¡¯s an Arcana. The six of them aren¡¯t.¡± William shrugged again. ¡°In that case, if you really want to play it safe, you can order a total evacuation of the City of Feasts. Tell the Long March to create a barrier around the entire city so the two of them are trapped in, and then leave them both to me. It¡¯ll take me¡­ eh. A month or two to adapt to their attacks, and there¡¯ll probably be collateral damage to the moon, but I¡¯ll wear them down and kill them eventually.¡± Jiayian rolled her eyes. ¡°You¡¯re the second strongest human in the world by technicality only. Your Swarmblood Art¡¯s pulling most of your weight.¡± ¡°As long as I always get the job done,¡± he said cheerily, pulling out a completely new novel from inside his jacket. ¡°And I¡¯ll have you know, I¡¯m the only Arcana Hasharana who has never lost a fight to a bug. Even the Worm God got killed by the Swarm God once.¡± ¡°... Okay, then.¡± Jiayin kept her eyes on the city, stewing in the faint, gnawing sense of unease in her chest. ¡°If push comes to shove, I¡¯ll be sure to get the kids out safely and let you get mauled by those two for a month.¡± ¡°They¡¯ll be fine, though,¡± William said, his voice softer this time as he flipped open his book. ¡°I believe this year¡¯s participants are more than half-decent. We shouldn''t have to look after them as much.¡±
Dahlia tumbled out of the second wormhole like a ragdoll, her limbs flailing before gravity grabbed hold and dragged her down. The fall wasn¡¯t particularly far, but the landing was rough¡ªstone scraping against her hands as she caught herself, knees buckling against the hard ground. For a moment, the world spun in lazy, nauseating circles, the colours of Eighth Mantid Street blending into a dizzying blur of oranges, reds, and sun-soaked golds. She pressed a hand to her forehead, groaning softly as she stood to her feet using her hammer as a crutch once again. Her stomach was still churning from the fall, but she forced herself to breathe, steady and slow. When her vision cleared, she realised she was just outside Tavern Emparatoria. It was early¡ªtoo early for the bustling crowds that usually packed the street later in the day, but not so early that the faint aroma of spiced bread and sizzling meats weren¡¯t wafting from the tavern¡¯s open doors, inviting her in. Her mind lingered on the wormhole over her head for a second longer before it winked out of existence. Truthfully, she¡¯d wanted to stay in the temple and talk to the others¡ªthere were loads of things she wanted to ask Emilia¡ªbut the moment had passed, and here she was, back ¡®home¡¯. ¡­ I passed. I passed the first stage. The relief that came with the realisation felt a bit hollow, though. Her heart still hammered unsteadily, the adrenaline from the exam refusing to fully fade. Just a minute ago, she was in the colossal fungi forest, and now¡­ She shook her head, slapped her hands on her cheeks, and forced herself to steady. This¡­ isn¡¯t a dream, is it? Sucking in a deep breath, she dragged her hammer forward and stepped into the familiar warmth of the tavern. As she already heard outside, the tavern was already alive with morning activity. Safi stood behind the counter, flipped ten sizzling pans on a fiery griddle. Alice, the ever flighty, darted between tables with trays balanced in four hands, her white hair tied up in a messy bun as she exchanged half a dozen quick conversations with the patrons. Dahlia hesitated in the doorway, her presence almost swallowed by the energy of the tavern. She wasn¡¯t sure what she¡¯d expected¡ªcheers? Concern? Truth was, she was prepared to fail the exam, so to be standing here still alive¡­ Safi noticed her first, his dark eyes lighting up as his face broke into a small smile. ¡°Welcome back.¡± Dahlia blinked at him, caught off guard. Her throat felt tight. Alice barely glanced up from the tray she was setting down as well, though a small smile tugged at the corner of her lips. ¡°I knew you¡¯d pass!¡± she said simply. ¡­ The weight of their sudden words made Dahlia want to shrink into herself. She shifted awkwardly, offering both of them a weak smile as she smiled slightly. ¡°I¡¯m just going to head upstairs,¡± she mumbled. ¡°I¡¯m¡­ tired.¡± With that, she wove through the tables, slipped between the patrons, and gave some of the children a small wave before climbing the stairs to the second floor. Again, she half-expected her room to not be there when she pushed the door, but there it was: small and comfortable with a simple bed, a wooden desk, and a window that overlooked the Eighth Mantid Street. It wasn¡¯t a dream. She shut the door behind her, the muffled noise of the tavern fading into a distant hum, and then the exhaustion hit her all at once. She immediately sank into the bed, threw her hammer aside, kicked off her greaves, her sandals, and stretched out across the soft blankets. For a few moments, all she did was stare at the ceiling. The first stage of the exam was over, but something still felt¡­ off. Her chest still felt tight, her skin still prickling with a sensation she couldn¡¯t shake¡ªher mind drifted back to the exam. Against the beetle twins, she felt she¡¯d done well enough¡ªsupporting from the edges, setting up ambushes, dealing the final blow. But against the sun moth¡­ that¡¯d been Emilia¡¯s fight. And if it weren¡¯t for her, Dahlia wouldn¡¯t be here right now. [... The second stage will be much, much more dangerous,] Kari warned. [Now that a participant like Emilia has shown her true strength, the proctors¡ªthe Arcana Hasharana¡ªwon¡¯t take the rest of you lightly. They¡¯ll adjust the second stage accordingly, and that means even higher-ranked Mutant-Classes.] [That sun moth was C-Rank.] [It wouldn¡¯t surprise me if the proctors stuck a B or even an A-Rank Mutant-Class in the second stage of the exam.] [What will you do these next three weeks, Dahlia?] ¡­ For her part, Dahlia simply rolled over and buried her face in her pillow. Her body was already succumbing to fatigue. I¡¯ll head to the market in a day or two, she thought. Bug meat. Raw insect parts. Scrap metal components. Anything I can find that¡¯ll give me an edge. I¡¯m by far the weakest of the six participants, right? [...] You don¡¯t have to lie, Kari. Are the rest of them hiding their real abilities? [... Yep.] [Muyang, Otto, Wisnu, and Blaire have yet to reveal their Swarmblood Arts.] [But I don¡¯t even think their Arts matter, because Emilia¡ª] Then I¡¯m just going to be a drag if the second stage forces us to work together again. I¡­ won¡¯t have that. She turned her head to glance at her hammer, sitting quietly and eerily off to the side. Tomorrow, first things first: I¡¯m feeding that thing even more insect parts. I need to know just what, exactly, I¡¯ve made. Chapter 83 - Shopping The Mantid Bazaar closest to Tavern Emparatoria stretched out before Dahlia in an endless, sun-baked sprawl. Every direction was a mess of shouting merchants, jangling wares, and the sharp tang of spices and insect blood in the air. Heat prickled at her skin as she dragged her Amalgamated Hammer across the ground like a hunk of scrap¡ªit was quite the unwieldy weapon that forced people to walk around her with care, but surprisingly, it wasn¡¯t that strange-looking a weapon that many people stopped to stare at it. They probably just assumed it was some flavour of Swarmsteel they¡¯d never seen before, the same way Dahlia couldn¡¯t recognise or even guess the functions of most Swarmsteel being sold in the bazaar. Three days. It¡¯d been three days since she¡¯d resigned herself to waiting for those Mutant-Class beetle parts to arrive from the Sun, and what had she done in all that time? Not figuring out what her Amalgamated Hammer was, that was for sure. She¡¯d spent the last few days feeding it random scrap in Tavern Emparatoria¡¯s warehouse, poking at its edges, trying to coax Kari into giving her satisfying answers. But nothing. No good response, no valuable insight¡ªjust the same silent mystery. The thing rumbles like it¡¯s always starving, and it gets heavier and heavier every time I pop the plug open and stuff more insect scrap in it. Did I create something alive, Kari?
[Adaptable {Amalgamation} Hammer (Grade: E-Rank)(Str: +2/5)(Aura: +30/80)]
[Considering its strength level has increased since you returned from the colossal fungi forest, I¡¯m inclined to believe you are now its mother,] Kari teased, hopping on the back of the hammerhead as she glanced around it, giving it a scowl. [All jokes aside, this is an eerily similar Swarmsteel to Gigantitania, ranked three of the Arcana Hasharana. Perhaps you could consult Otto about it.] Gigantitania? [The colossal Inorganic Armour the Rampaging Hinterland Front depends upon to combat Mammot, the Greater Beetle God of the Northeast. It is a hundred-metre-tall Swarmsteel titan that people can pilot, and in a sense, it also possesses a will of its own. It has been observed moving on its own to protect its pilot, much like your arms that I can also move to protect you.] ¡­ Will the hammer come alive like you did and eat me in the middle of the night, then? Kari shrugged. [Maybe. Maybe not. Best to keep feeding it, then.] Dahlia grumbled as Alice trotted alongside her in the bazaar, skipping just ahead. "Do you smell that?" Alice asked. ¡°That¡¯s roasted beetle thorax. Wanna try some?¡± ¡°I¡¯m good,¡± Dahlia mumbled. Her stomach churned just thinking about it. ¡°What about this one?¡± Alice chirped, pointing to a jar of what looked like glowing moth larvae. Dahlia shuddered and ignored her. They continued weaving between crowded stalls selling gleaming beetle shells, spiny mantis claws, and all sorts of scrap insect parts. Some were polished to a shine; others still dripped pungent blood, awaiting cleanup. The Mantid Bazaar was certainly overwhelming, and the sprawl of it all left Dahlia feeling like a fly caught in a web, but it wasn¡¯t like she needed Alice to come out in the middle of the day to play tour guide for her. She knew how to navigate the bazaar. She¡¯d been haggling and negotiating with merchants long before she even reached the surface, but Alice had simply been adamant about following her out. Most likely, she was just bored working in Tavern Emparatoria, but Dahlia didn¡¯t feel like entertaining her while scanning the stalls for anything in particular that caught her eye. In response, Alice¡¯s lips turned downward in a way that made her look comically deflated. But she didn¡¯t argue. She didn¡¯t beg for Dahlia¡¯s attention. Instead, she sulked and bounced a bit further ahead, darting toward a stall laden with glass jars of preserved mandibles and twitching antennae. Dahlia let her go, focusing harder on the vendors around instead. They were merchants adorned in insect-inspired attire¡ªexoskeletal-patterned armor, carapace-lined capes, and headdresses bristling with antennae. But most of them weren¡¯t Swarmsteel. Some wore actual Swarmsteel on their bodies: chitinous claws, glasses made of compound eyes that glimmered in the light, and even a few winged cloaks that reminded her of Emilia¡¯s glassy cicada wings. Most stalls, at least, brimmed with strange wares: severed legs of mantids, venom sacs in fluid-filled vials, and powdered beetle shells. She bartered like a veteran, her words sharp and clipped as she sliced through inflated prices until the merchants begrudgingly handed over her scrap insect parts. Her mind buzzed with possibilities as she stuffed her haul into the satchel over her back. Excluding the hammer, she already had her firefly bracers, dragonfly goggles, locust greaves, and her antlion cloak. Should she really be shopping for insect parts for more Swarmsteel instead of shopping for meat for more points? [Pound for pound, coin by coin, it''s much more expensive to buy ten points'' worth of bug meat than it is to buy ten points'' worth of bug parts in the form of a Swarmsteel. You don''t have that much money to throw around, do you?] Not really. But why''s bug meat more expensive? Because it''s easy for people with systems to eat bug meat and get strong. It''s much more complicated for people to buy bug parts and turn them into Swarmsteel. When a Giant-Class bug is killed and hauled into the butchery, the first person who gets called in is the best meat scraper, who''ll carefully extract as many points'' worth of meat from the carcass as they can. Then the rest of the butchery will come in and smash everything else¡ªeverything inedible¡ªapart. The meat is carefully tended to; the hard chitin bits that you can''t eat, usually not so much.] Ah. [And you''re not rich. Uncle Safi didn''t give you much. Best to stick with bug parts for the time being so you can continue feeding your hammer and strengthening your own Swarmsteel.] [Besides, even if you''re not sure what to make for yourself, it''s not like you can''t forge Swarmsteel for the others with the parts you buy. There¡¯s value in honing and sharpening your skills as a Swarmsteel Maker for private clients with very specific requests.] The thought lingered. Maybe she could craft Swarmsteel for the other participants. She knew most of their classes: Emilia was cicada, Muyang and Otto were beetles, Wisnu was ant, and Blaire¡­ mosquito? She¡¯d never told, and Dahlia had never asked. None of them had. [Do you want to make Swarmsteel for Blaire?] She shrugged. Then her gaze wandered to Alice in front, who was staring off into the distance, her crimson eyes fixed on the towering silhouette of one of the upside-down spider legs that encased the city like the ribs of a buried beast. Dahlia still couldn¡¯t quite get used to the fact that the entire city was built atop the carcass of a giant Spider God, but Alice shouldn¡¯t have any problems with that. She used to live here, after all. ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± Dahlia asked, lugging her hammer forward with a heavy groan. But Alice didn¡¯t answer. The Arcana Hasharana muttered something under her breath¡ªan apology, maybe¡ªand then she took off, darting between the stalls and disappearing into the crowd with a puff of wind. It wasn¡¯t exactly the first time Alice had bailed on her without a word, so for her part, Dahlia wasn¡¯t too concerned. What the Arcana Hasharana got up to in her own time was her own business. ¡­ Still. Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. That was a bit¡­ abrupt, wasn¡¯t it? She looked like she was¡ª ¡°This isn¡¯t worth much,¡± a man snapped to her side. ¡°Then don¡¯t buy it,¡± another person snapped back, and the sharpness in the voice tickled Dahlia¡¯s ears. As the first man grumbled and handed over a small pouch of coins to the second person, she whirled and quickly scanned the stalls, trying to locate the two men¡ªand her attention snagged on a nearby stall where a dragonfly-eyed merchant was haggling with a blond-haired boy. She blinked when she recognised the rifle slung over his shoulders, and the boy must¡¯ve noticed her staring, too, because he immediately glanced over with a silver monocle over his right eye. They locked eyes across the sandy stretch of bazaar, and for a moment, neither of them moved. Then they pointed at each other, mouthing ¡®ah¡¯ at the same time. Found one.
The ¡®Sada Anakhil¡¯ Oasis Garden was a rather surreal place in this desert city in the middle of nowhere. Palm trees stretched skyward, fronds rattling softly in the dry breeze. A small oasis gleamed in the sunlight, and the water shimmered like molten glass, reflecting a decorative stone bridge arcing over its surface. Desert flowers were also scattered in lush clusters all around¡ªorange, yellow, and deep violet blooms spilling over the sandy paths. No dahlias, though. Dahlia would¡¯ve loved to see dahlias somewhere around here. Nevertheless, Dahlia sat on a wooden bench near the water, her knees drawn close to her chest, while Otto sat awkwardly beside her. A small crowd had gathered nearby to their right, cheering and clapping around a band playing some jaunty tune with stringed instruments and light percussion. The music was pleasant enough, but Dahlia wasn¡¯t really paying attention. Her focus was solely on the tiny metal components spread out on the bench between them, her fingers moving with precision as she helped Otto craft his ¡®bullets¡¯. Otto¡¯s expression was one of casual concentration. He leaned forward slightly, handing her each piece of the tiny insect parts as Kari guided her in her head. [Pack it tighter,] Kari instructed. [If the powder¡¯s loose, it¡¯ll misfire and blow up the moment it exits his rifle.] Dahlia pursed her lips, her fingers steady as she adjusted the tiny pouch of explosive powder before carefully seating the ¡®slug¡¯. The work required a delicate touch, but there was something soothing about filling the empty bullet shells with metallic-scented powder. So, she murmured in her head, these ¡®bullets¡¯ are what he¡¯s shooting out of that rifle. [Functional. Perhaps a bit crude,] Kari replied flatly, [though they are very effective against isolated Giant-Class bugs who aren¡¯t fast enough to dodge or tough enough to deflect the bullets. Against entire broods and Mutant-Classes, though¡­ eh. There¡¯s a reason why most Hasharana prefer melee weapons. Melee weapons can hit as hard and as fast and as long as you can swing, but eventually, you''ll run out of bullets for the bugs. And they aren''t called the ''Swarm'' for nothing.] It''s never a one-on-one fight against the Swarm. [Precisely. You¡¯re overfilling the casing, though,] Kari said dryly. [This rifle appears to be a Swarmsteel rifle that fires special bullets charged with bioarcanic essence. It is very dangerous. Do you want it to explode in your face?] Uh, no, Dahlia muttered under her breath, adjusting the pouch of powder carefully. Her hands may be steady, but she must be sweating bricks or something, because Otto leaned in slightly as he watched her work. ¡°You¡¯re getting the hang of it real quick,¡± he said, his tone casual but earnest. ¡°Thanks.¡± Dahlia didn¡¯t look up, pretending she wasn¡¯t affected by the small compliment. Her focus narrowed on locking the bullet shut, her thumb pressing firmly against the metal plate until she felt it click into position. It felt satisfying, like finishing a puzzle piece. ¡°Is this¡­ right? The powder won¡¯t leak if I lock the bullet like this?¡± Otto picked up the bullet she¡¯d just finished and turned it over in his gloved fingers, inspecting it closely. ¡°Yep,¡± he said after a beat. ¡°Perfect. Better than my first attempts.¡± Dahlia blinked at him. ¡°Really?¡± He smiled faintly, his fingers brushing against the cracked glass of his monocle. ¡°Oh, yeah. I once blew up an entire workbench because I packed the powder wrong.¡± ¡°Seriously?¡± ¡°Seriously.¡± He glanced sideways at her, ¡°It¡¯s why I don¡¯t have eyebrows in my general school graduation photo.¡± That made her laugh¡ªa small, quiet sound that she quickly stifled. ¡°Well, at least you¡¯ve improved since then,¡± she said, accepting his last pouch of explosive powder with both hands. ¡°Now I just repeat what I did with the rest of these hollow bullets?¡± He nodded, his movements methodical as he worked. For a moment, the two of them fell into a companionable silence, broken only by the distant strumming of the band playing nearby. The music drifted over the oasis garden, mingling with the sound of rustling leaves and soft conversations from the small crowd gathered around them. She was content with the silence. She was comfortable in it. ¡°... You¡¯re better at this than I thought you¡¯d be,¡± Otto said, breaking the quiet. ¡°Thanks,¡± Dahlia said dryly again, only half-paying attention to him. ¡°I meant it,¡± he said quickly. ¡°Most people wouldn¡¯t have the patience for this.¡± Dahlia shrugged, and she had to pretend her cheeks weren¡¯t warming again under the praise. ¡°I¡¯m just following instructions,¡± she said. Kari started grumbling inside her head, so she praised it as well¡ªshe wouldn¡¯t have picked up how to fill bullets nearly as quickly without its incessant corrections. ¡°Still,¡± Otto hesitated for a moment before adding, ¡°thanks for helping. This would¡¯ve taken me hours alone. They don¡¯t directly sell the calibre of bullets my rifle uses here, so I have to make everything from scratch.¡± ¡°I had fun,¡± Dahlia replied, brushing excess powder off her hands as she finished filling up all her bullets. Otto also finished his, so she leaned back against the bench and let out a heavy sigh as he started scooping all the bullets up into a pouch. ¡°It was nice. It was oddly¡­ therapeutic.¡± ¡°You wouldn¡¯t be feeling the need for therapy if I hadn¡¯t given all of you so much stress back then.¡± She stared at him, momentarily caught off guard. The memories of the chaos at the end of the first stage of the exam flashed in her mind again¡ªbut they were just that. Memories. Weight from the past. She was already carrying enough weight from the past. ¡°... It¡¯s fine,¡± she said, her voice softer now. ¡°It ended well. We all passed. That¡¯s the only thing that matters, right?¡± Otto didn¡¯t reply immediately. His gaze drifted toward the oasis, his fingers idly tracing the rims of his monocle, and the silence between them felt heavier this time. Her eyes caught on the cracks in his lenses, and a thought slipped out before she could stop herself. ¡°Did you make that monocle?¡± He blinked, startled by the question. ¡°Yeah,¡± he said, touching the lenses lightly. ¡°Made it back when I transferred to Amadeus Academy for three semesters with Professor Julius¡¯ help. It¡¯s the only Swarmsteel my parents haven¡¯t made me alter since I built it around¡­ four years ago? They probably think anything approved by the head of the academy¡¯s Swarmsteel Department is good enough to never warrant a touch-up.¡± ¡°Your parents?¡± Dahlia asked, curiosity sparking. ¡°They¡¯re way better Swarmsteel Makers than me,¡± he admitted, his voice dipping into something softer. ¡°I¡¯ve been tinkering with their designs for years, but this monocle that lets me zoom in and out and see things most people can¡¯t see¡­¡± He trailed off, shaking his head. ¡°I haven¡¯t touched it. It¡¯s not perfect, but it¡¯s important.¡± Dahlia tilted her head, studying the monocle. The craftsmanship was good¡ªbetter than good, actually¡ªbut not flawless. ¡°They¡¯re nice,¡± she said slowly. ¡°But¡­ I noticed something during the fight.¡± Otto raised an eyebrow. ¡°Oh?¡± ¡°Your bullets,¡± she said plainly. ¡°They were always a little off. Just a few degrees. Maybe the lenses aren¡¯t tuned right for heat? Sunlight might¡¯ve been refracting weirdly back in the colossal fungi forest, so maybe....¡± ¡°...¡± Otto went still, his expression unreadable, and Dahlia¡¯s stomach twisted. She shouldn¡¯t have said anything. Why did I say that? He¡¯s going to think I¡¯m full of myself. I never even went to an academy just to learn how to make Swarmsteel¡ªthere¡¯s probably nothing wrong with his monocle. Dahlia swallowed hard and bit her lip. ¡°Sorry. I didn¡¯t mean¡ª¡± ¡°Boo!¡± But before she could finish, Dahlia and Otto yelped, twisting around to find Emilia grinning down at both of them. The mischievous gleam in the Cicada Musician¡¯s eyes made Dahlia feel sick¡ªbut just for a moment. Only for a moment. Right now, Emilia wasn''t a Hasharana-in-training with killing pressure rivalling that of the sun moth. She was just another fourteen-year-old, like Dahlia. ¡°Found you,¡± Emilia said cheerfully. ¡°That¡¯s three out of five. Do any of you know where Muyang and Wisnu are?¡± ¡°Uh¡­ no?¡± Dahlia mumbled shrugging off her hands. ¡°What¡­ do you want with us?¡± Emilia stepped around the bench and planted herself in front of them with a dramatic flourish. ¡°We promised, didn¡¯t we? That after we all passed the exam, we¡¯d go have a meal and Otto¡¯s going to pay for everything? I¡¯m here for free food.¡± Dahlia narrowed her eyes, and Otto inhaled sharply through his nose. ¡°I guess I did say that,¡± he mumbled. ¡°But¡­ uh, I don¡¯t have that much money on me since I had to replenish most of my bullets, so¡ª¡± ¡°There¡¯s this amazing cafe in the northern part of the city I want to visit,¡± Emilia said, ignoring him completely as her grin widened, pulling both of them onto their feet. ¡°And it¡¯s no fun going alone. Also, I can¡¯t foot the bill. I know I just made a ton of money performing for the crowd just now, but I don¡¯t think it¡¯ll cut it.¡± Dahlia blinked, looking at the dispersing crowd to her right. So it wasn¡¯t a band. [Well, she is a one-girl band.] ¡°... But now you¡¯re telling me you could¡¯ve just performed for money from the start,¡± Dahlia grumbled, ¡°instead of stealing radishes from me.¡± Emilia laughed, completely unbothered as Otto looked between them, evidently perplexed. ¡°I should have, huh?¡± She grabbed Dahlia¡¯s wrist and tugged, beckoning Otto forward as well. ¡°Come on. Let¡¯s go. I hear lunch hour¡¯s a rush, so if we don¡¯t get there early, we¡¯re not getting our seats.¡± Dahlia exchanged a look with Otto. His expression was resigned, but he eventually scratched the back of his head and sighed, accepting his fate¡ªhe¡¯d said he was going to pay for their meal, so he was going to pay for their meal. Chapter 84 - Five The walk to the uptown district in the northern end of the city was like trudging through another world. Dahlia kept her head down, her hands fidgeting with the frayed edge of her cloak. The sandstone buildings around them grew taller with every step, their walls decorated with carvings and mosaic tiles of spiders that sparkled under the midday sun. Even the air smelled cleaner here, tinged with the faint scent of dried herbs and roasted spices from distant street vendors. There wasn¡¯t as much sand just flying around. Soon, they arrived at their destination, and Dahlia¡¯s breath caught in her throat. The ¡®cafe¡¯ stood like a beacon against the cityscape, its white, lighthouse-like tower gleaming in the sun. It was flanked by two more modest sandstone buildings, making its ornate design stand out even more. The large rectangular windows were stained in rainbow colours, and delicate floral patterns were etched into the circular walls, climbing toward the spiraling roof. It didn¡¯t really look like a cafe. It looked like something out of a storybook, the kind of place where people who belonged here sipped tea and spoke in hushed, sophisticated tones. The garden outside the entrance was just as extravagant. Flowers bloomed in neat rows of pots, their petals impossibly bright shades of red, yellow, and violet. A fountain bubbled softly in the center, the water sparkling in the sunlight. ¡°See? Isn¡¯t this a fancy place?¡± Emilia said, throwing an arm around Dahlia and Otto¡¯s shoulders as if to stop them from bolting. ¡°Come on! It¡¯s even better inside!¡± The receptionist at the entrance was a tall, dark-skinned woman with a neatly tied bun and sharp features. She looked at Emilia first as the three of them as they approached the glass doors, her face softening into a polite, tired smile. ¡°Miss, I¡¯ve told you already,¡± she said in a measured tone. ¡°You need at least three people to enter¡ª¡± ¡°And now I have three!¡± she declared, pushing Dahlia and Otto forward like proof. The receptionist¡¯s gaze barely lingered on Dahlia, but when it shifted to Otto, her polite smile turned warmer as she studied him from head to toe. In particular, her eyes lingered on his rifle slung over his back, the monocles hanging around his neck, and the fur coat he never seemed to take off even in the hottest of climates. ¡°Might you be from the northeast, good sir?¡± the receptionist asked, her tone turning friendly all of a sudden. Otto nodded slowly, his posture stiffening as he glanced at Emilia. ¡°Yes. I am Otto Glasbrenner, a Pioneer from the Rampaging Hinterland Front.¡± The receptionist¡¯s smile widened even further, and if she had any reservations about letting Dahlia and Emilia into the high-class establishment, she didn¡¯t show it on her face anymore. ¡°Welcome to La Sombra del Sol,¡± she said, stepping aside to pull open the glass doors. ¡°Please come in, good sir. You came just in time¡ªwe have one free seat on the topmost floor right now.¡± As Emilia grinned and ruffled Otto¡¯s hair, Dahlia followed the two of them into the cafe reluctantly. The receptionist led the way, and a second receptionist immediately swerved out from inside to take her place. ¡­ Kari. What was that about? [The Rampaging Hinterland Front is known for its giant Inorganic Armours, yes, but it¡¯s also known for the relative wealth of its people,] Kari explained. [And northeasterners of prestigious households, such as the Pioneers of the Glasbrenner Family, have a reputation for affluence. The receptionist probably assumed Emilia was going to cause a mess inside the cafe, but changed her mind when she saw Otto with the two of you.] Oh. Her shoulders hunched slightly as they stepped inside. Her hands felt sweaty, and she adjusted her grip on her hammer, trying not to think about how out of place she looked walking into the cafe alongside Emilia and Otto. She tried her best not to damage the pretty floorboards as she dragged her hammer in. The air in the caffe hit her first: cool, fragrant, and impossibly clean. It carried the faint, sweet scent of honey mixed with something floral and sharp, like crushed petals and¡­ blackberries. Dahlia blinked, her gaze sweeping across the space, and she felt her heart jump. The interior was nothing like she¡¯d expected. It was built like a lighthouse on the outside, but it was decorated like a greenhouse on the inside, with tall glass windows and a ceiling that let sunlight pour in from every angle. Sunlight refracted through the top, casting rainbows across the many bustling tables and floors. Greenery climbed along trellises and spiralling stairs, and flowers bloomed in every color she could imagine¡ªand a few she couldn¡¯t. She stopped walking for a moment, staring at a cluster of blossoms shaped like tiny lanterns, their soft blue petals glowing faintly in the light. They didn¡¯t look real. ¡°Dahlia, come on!¡± Emilia called, already a few steps ahead. She snapped her head over and immediately skipped forward, lifting her hammer slightly off the ground as she tried really, really hard not to damage the place. As the receptionist gestured for them to follow her up a spiraling staircase in the middle of the lighthouse, servers and waitresses with shimmering butterfly wings flitted between tables on different floors, carrying trays of steaming teapots and plates stacked high with delicate pastries. Their wings glimmered with iridescent blues and greens, leaving faint trails of light behind them. Dahlia¡¯s fingers itched to reach out and touch one of their wings¡ªto see if they¡¯d feel like silk or something more fragile¡ªbut she shook her head, trying to focus. Stop staring, she told herself. You already look like you don¡¯t belong here. The place was already crowded as was. Most people were dressed nicely with high collars and unwrinkled shirts, and they didn¡¯t look like they were from the desert. Most, in fact, wore the same well-fitted attire as Otto did¡ªso maybe they were from the northeast? She couldn¡¯t understand a word they were saying, anyways, as the receptionist led them to the topmost floor just below the dome-shaped roof. The uppermost floor was a circular platform with round tables scattered around and windows encircling the walls, offering a panoramic view of the district right outside. Emilia laughed, Otto mouthed a quiet ¡®cool¡¯, and Dahlia¡¯s eyes widened. The sandstone rooftops stretched out like an uneven patchwork quilt, earthy tones glowing in the golden midday light. It was easily the best view she could ever ask for in the city, and the receptionist gestured towards the only empty table near the last window, bowing slightly. But then Emilia said ¡°ah¡± and pointed at one of the tables already seated with customers¡ªjust one customer, actually. The rest of the seats were taken up by the giant stag beetle helm, and for a second, Dahlia couldn¡¯t help but wonder how the man had even gotten the helm to fit through the tiny glass doors downstairs. ¡°... Ah,¡± Muyang said, pointing back at the three of them. He was sitting at a table by one of the wider windows, looking relaxed and leaning back in his cushion with an air of quiet amusement. Judging by the menu he was holding in his hands, he¡¯d arrived just a bit before them. The receptionist lingered around the three of them, glancing at Otto. ¡°Do you know each other, good sir?¡± Otto nodded. ¡°Yeah, we do.¡± The receptionist¡¯s smile softened. ¡°I see. Then please, feel free to join him. I will have a waitress personally assigned to your table.¡± Emilia needed no telling twice. While Muyang frantically lifted his giant beetle helm off the soft cushions to make room, the cicada girl dragged both Dahlia and Otto forward, practically throwing them onto the cushions around the round table. The receptionist swerved by to drop off three additional menus, and Dahlia felt the other patrons on the top floor were certainly looking at them strangely as Emilia patted Muyang¡¯s shoulder, but then the receptionist left, and so did the gazes on their backs¡ªthe usual chatter filled the air again, and Dahlia finally felt comfortable enough to let go of her of hammer right by her feet, confident that it wouldn¡¯t just sink through the wooden floorboards. It probably wouldn¡¯t. She hoped it wouldn¡¯t. The cushions beneath her felt softer than she expected, their silk covers cool against her palms. The table in the middle of their little circle gleamed with a dark polish, its surface already decorated with tiny bowls of sugar cubes and a vase holding a single, vibrant desert bloom. Not a dahlia. It would¡¯ve been funny¡ªor creepy¡ªif it were a dahlia, but if that were to happen, it¡¯d most likely be because Muyang requested it. Her gaze flicked to each of her companions as they all made themselves comfortable. Muyang was the picture of ease, leaning back with one arm draped over the cushion behind him, while Otto sat stiffly, his rifle resting against the table¡¯s edge. Emilia, as usual, was a flurry of movement, adjusting the cushions behind her and grinning like she¡¯d just won a prize. Stolen novel; please report. Otto broke the silence first, his voice steady but tinged with curiosity. ¡°What are you doing here, Muyang? How¡¯d you know we¡¯d be here?¡± Muyang smiled politely back, sliding their menus over to them. ¡°I did not know the three of you were going to be here. It was nothing but pure fortune that led us to meet again so soon. I merely came here because this cafe has a reputation for its lunch menu, so I thought I would check it out.¡± ¡°Famous for what?¡± Otto pressed, leaning slightly forward. Emilia¡¯s eyes sparkled, and she leaned in too, her voice dropping as if sharing a grand secret. ¡°This cafe once served the Worm God and his friends!¡± she said excitedly. ¡°After they killed an Insect God somewhere around here, they stopped back in the City of Feasts for a quick bite, and of all the restaurants they could have chosen, they came here. It''s a sacred ground that must be visited if you¡¯re a fan of the old heroes of humanity!¡± Dahlia blinked, her fingers tightening slightly on the edge of her cushion. She glanced around the room, trying to picture the scene Emilia was describing. ¡°You¡¯re making that up,¡± Otto said flatly, though his gaze wandered to the walls as well. ¡°I¡¯m not,¡± Emilia shot back, her grin never fading. ¡°Look around. The story¡¯s in the walls. Or maybe the ceiling? I haven¡¯t been here myself, either, but people say the history¡¯s all over this place.¡± The four of them turned their eyes around, searching the walls, the windows, and the ceiling. Sunlight streamed through the designs etched into the glass, creating patterns of light and shadow that danced across the lighthouse, but¡­ eventually, all of their eyes were drawn to the very centre of the dome-shaped ceiling. There, in the highest part of the lighthouse, was a mural. The details were impossibly fine, the colours vivid even after years of exposure to sunlight. It depicted a group of people posing together against a black backdrop. A young white-haired, pale-skinned boy with a rifle stood at the very front, his eyes starry blue, his stance poised to act at any moment. Considering he was the only person out of the twenty or so clad in pure white¡ªwith no other colour to give him any depth, any real shape¡ªhe was definitely the most eye-catching. [That would be the Worm God in his early years,] Kari murmured. [Though I say ¡®early years¡¯ even though his tier one mutation makes it so he doesn¡¯t age. He looks exactly the same now as he did forty years ago.] She frowned, her gaze lingering on the boy. That¡¯s¡­ the Worm God? [Your boss.] [Humanity¡¯s champion.] [Fun fact: he was also fourteen years old when he first received his class¡ª] But if he¡¯s the strongest, why isn¡¯t he standing in the centre of the group? Kari paused. Dahlia tilted her head, her brow furrowing even further. The pale-skinned boy wasn¡¯t in the center of the mural. Her eyes shifted to the figure that was¡ªan amber-cloaked man with closed eyes, his hands clasped behind him. It was safe to say that he was the centrepiece. Everyone was gathered around him, and not the Worm God. She was about to ask Kari when Otto looked at Emilia and pointed up, his finger aimed at the figure with closed eyes. ¡°That¡¯s your dad, isn¡¯t it?¡± Everyone at the table seemed to hold their breath. For a moment, Emilia didn¡¯t say anything¡ªeven as Dahlia whirled and looked at her¡ªbut then she smiled, quite softly this time, and nodded. ¡°Mhm,¡± she said, her voice filled with pride as her hand flew to her chest. ¡°That¡¯s my dad. The one and only.¡± Everyone looked back up at the mural in various states of shock, disbelief, and acceptance. Dahlia didn¡¯t have any one of those reactions. ¡­ That¡¯s her dad? Who¡¯s he supposed to be? [The Worm God may be known as the strongest human, but the blind man known as the ¡®Thousand Tongue¡¯ was the one who raised the strongest human,] Kari said, [The Thousand Tongue was the one who gathered the heroes of humanity. Without him, none of the people in that mural would have united. Bug-slayers across the continent flocked to him. In humanity¡¯s darkest, it was he who pried opened the gate to hell the Worm Mage was cast down, and it was he who raised a god out of a boy¡ªsuffice it to say, without him, there would be no Worm God.] While Kari explained, Emilia¡¯s gaze was still fixed on the mural. Her expression was different now¡ªsofter, more thoughtful¡ªbut the silence stretched again as they all simply stared, the mural¡¯s vibrant colours casting a glow over their little group. Dahlia¡¯s thoughts were swirling, a mix of awe and uncertainty, but mostly the latter. Maybe she should feel a little more impressed, but the fact was, she hadn¡¯t known who Emilia¡¯s father was until just now¡ªso rather the blind man Otto and Muyang seemed enamoured by, it was Emilia herself Dahlia was more interested in. Evidently, Muyang thought so, too, because he spoke up a moment later. ¡°Miss Emilia,¡± he said, ¡°are you taking this exam because you want to be a hero just like your father?¡± The question hung in the air, and Dahlia glanced at Emilia, curious. Strangely, Emilia¡¯s usual carefree grin faltered just for a moment before she shrugged casually. ¡°Yeah.¡± And there was just enough hesitation in her voice to make anyone else think twice before asking her more. Ever since the death of the sun moth, Emilia always sounded so sure of herself¡ªso confident¡ªbut now, it sounded, there was a flicker of doubt. Dahlia had no idea what had brought it on, but before anyone could push further, the sound of footsteps echoed up the spiral staircase. A waitress appeared by their table, her silhouette framed by the golden midday light pouring in through the windows, and she said something about taking orders before her voice trailed off. All of them blinked as their heads swivelled slowly around. ¡°¡­ Huh,¡± Emilia said blankly, pointing at the waitress¡¯ face. ¡°Five out of five.¡± The waitress was Wisnu. Dressed in an outfit that looked like a fusion of traditional and exotic Sharaji Desert designs¡ªlayers of thin, flowing fabric adorned with wavy embroidery¡ªthe young Noble-Blood looked like she¡¯d just stepped out of a painting. Her limbs were adorned with gold and jade bracelets. Ornamental chains and cuffs jingled on her ethereal skirt. Her belly was showing, and her shoulders and back were bare. Her face, however, was a mix of dread and resignation as she backed away from their table, her cheeks turning beet-red with embarrassment. Emilia started grinning from ear to ear. ¡°You look¡­ nice.¡± Wisnu¡¯s cheeks flared an even deep crimson. She tugged at the hem of her skirt as if trying to make it less noticeable. ¡°I had no choice!¡± she snapped, her voice tight with embarrassment. ¡°I did have any funds when I arrived, so I needed a job, and this¡­ was the best I could do!¡± ¡°You do look pretty,¡± Dahlia offered quietly, hoping to ease the tension. Otto smiled faintly, nodding in agreement. Muyang, ever the gentleman, looked away, studying the mural on the ceiling really, really hard. Wisnu¡¯s blush somehow deepened. ¡°Just... order something already,¡± she muttered, pulling out a small notepad and pen. Emilia was still snickering as she rattled off her order, and while the others quickly followed suit, Dahlia scrambled for the menu and picked something simple, something familiar: lamb skewers glazed in honey and sweet spices. She felt a twinge of guilt, still, as Wisnu hurried away the moment she finished writing, though Emilia was laughing and Muyang was still staring very intently at the mural over their heads. At least they were having fun. Quite naturally, then, it was like they¡¯d forgotten everything they were talking about prior. The conversations shifted. They flowed from one topic to the next as they chatted about what they¡¯d been doing. Muyang described the massive market he¡¯d visited earlier, full of rare goods and strange artifacts. Otto mentioned a blacksmith¡¯s shop he¡¯d stumbled upon, its walls lined with gleaming weapons and armour, all Swarmsteel. Emilia chimed in with tales of daring adventurers she¡¯d overheard boasting in one of the city squares, and though Dahlia listened more than she spoke, she didn¡¯t really mind. It was¡­ nice to just be there, soaking in the moment. Halfway through one of Emilia¡¯s stories, her thoughts were interrupted by a distant explosion. The sound rumbled through the air, faint but distinct, like a thunderclap rolling over the horizon, and every patron on the topmost floor whirled to look outside the window. Nothing. ¡°... What was that?¡± Dahlia asked. Emilia waved a hand dismissively. ¡°Eh, it happens all the time here. Probably just some idiots fighting outside the city.¡± Otto frowned, glancing out the window. ¡°Doesn¡¯t sound like nothing.¡± ¡°It¡¯s fine,¡± Emilia said, before leaning forward with a conspiratorial grin. ¡°Speaking of fights, though, would any of you happen to know what stage two of the exam is going to be?¡± They all exchanged glances, but no one spoke up. ¡°Not a clue,¡± Muyang admitted, shaking his head. Emilia sighed dramatically. ¡°Great. Guess we¡¯ll have to wing it.¡± Wisnu returned, balancing a tray laden with their dishes. She placed each plate carefully in front of them, avoiding eye contact, but Emilia was an absolute fiend. ¡°What about you, Sand-Dancer Wisnu?¡± she asked, putting on a teasing smile as the noble set down the last plate in front of her. ¡°Got any info on stage two?¡± Wisnu stiffened, her cheeks tinged pink. ¡°No. And I do not want to know. I will pass with my own strength and my own strength alone. I do not want insider information should you have any.¡± ¡°Are you sure? I heard we¡¯re going to be fighting an Insect God.¡± ¡°Really?¡± ¡°I¡¯m kidding, but you do want to know, don¡¯t you?¡± Emilia leaned over and grabbed Wisnu¡¯s arm as she tried to leave. ¡°Come on, sit with us! Eat! Didn¡¯t you see I ordered an extra dish? That¡¯s for you!¡± ¡°Wisnu blinked, startled. ¡°I cannot. I am in the middle of work¡ª¡± ¡°Otto¡¯s paying for the meal, you know? Just sit for a bit! If you don¡¯t, you¡¯ll be disrespecting him!¡± Wisnu looked like she wanted to argue, but something in Emilia¡¯s grin made her relent. Reluctantly, the waitress sighed and sat down as well, her shoulders slumping in defeat as she looked left and right nervously. Dahlia watched as the conversations kicked up again, a soft warmth spreading in her chest. This¡ªthis felt nice. The laughter, the teasing, the shared plans. It wasn¡¯t something she¡¯d had in a long time, and she didn¡¯t realise how much she¡¯d missed it until now. It was like they weren¡¯t bug-slayers in training at all. But then her thoughts drifted, unbidden, to Alice. The warmth in her chest dimmed, replaced by a quiet, stinging ache. Alice was the same age as Emilia, so where was she? Why wasn¡¯t she here with them? Why¡¯d she leave Dahlia alone in the bazaar? And that explosion out there just now¡­ Dahlia had no reason to believe it had anything to do with her, but¡ª ¡°Dahlia?¡± She blinked, snapping back to the present. Emilia was watching her, curiosity flickering in her eyes. ¡°Sorry,¡± Dahlia said quickly, forcing a smile. ¡°Just thinking.¡± ¡°Well, stop thinking and start eating,¡± Emilia said, grinning. ¡°We¡¯ve got a long day ahead of us. We¡¯re talking about whether we should all go out and get some points together so we can prepare for the second stage of the exam.¡± The conversations then pivoted to where they were going to get points for the exam, because as far as everyone knew, the Hasharana and the Long March and a dozen smaller bug-slaying organisations were currently guarding the City of Feasts, so there weren¡¯t going to be many bugs for them to hunt in or out of the city. That was when Dahlia¡¯s thoughts drifted back to Alice again, and she suggested a little lesser-known tavern on Eighth Mantid Street to all of them, rumoured to serve bug meat dishes to anyone who had the coins to pay. ¡­ Really, though. Where¡¯s Alice? Chapter 85 - Two (I) The Sharaji Desert stretched endlessly in every direction¡ªa harsh, shimmering wasteland of sand and broken stone¡ªbut occasionally, there¡¯d be a small oasis town built here and there capable of sustaining some lower, sadder form of life. The oasis town just a few hundred metres in front of the two wandering sisters was one of those towns, though it was evidently abandoned, probably vacated decades ago like most other oasis towns across the desert. Why would anyone choose to live out here in the middle of nowhere when they could live in the City of Feasts instead? It was a question Thracia was glad she didn¡¯t know the answer to, because the two of them needed the peace and quiet. Her cloak clung to her thin frame, the fabric sticky with sweat despite the dry air. Her legs ached with every step, but the pangs of hunger gnawing at her stomach were worse¡ªshe hadn¡¯t eaten anything filling in a few weeks, and she hated the sensation of her flesh and blood shrivelling up. ¡°I hate this place,¡± she muttered, her voice muffled by her scarf and hood. ¡°It hates you too,¡± Apocia replied, her tone clipped and dismissive. Thracia scowled, but didn¡¯t respond. Her older sister¡¯s patience for complaints was nonexistent. ¡°Is it really there?¡± Thracia muttered, quickening her step to keep up with Apocia. ¡°I need to eat something real. Those humans we found in the City of Feasts¡ª¡± ¡°Weren¡¯t enough,¡± Apocia finished. ¡°They never are for you. You¡¯re always starving.¡± ¡°Like you aren¡¯t,¡± Thracia countered, grumbling under her breath. ¡°You¡¯re thrice my size and four times as strong, and you¡¯re telling me you only have to eat half as much as me? That¡¯s some bull. I wish¡ª¡± ¡°We¡¯re here,¡± Apocia interrupted. ¡°Focus.¡± Entering the abandoned desert town, the endless dunes gave way to jagged remnants of an old settlement, broken walls, and crumbled towers half-buried in the sand. Harsh sunlight beat down, heat bouncing off the pale sandstone and turning the air into a shimmering haze. If it wasn¡¯t already obvious enough that nobody lived here, the silence was the final nail in the coffin. But they weren¡¯t here for humans. They were here for the head of the giant Mutant-Class sun moth they¡¯d watched explode into a million pieces a few days ago¡ªthe Hasharana¡¯s cleanup crew had yet to pick up all of its scattered remains, so if they could just get ahold of its head¡­ Thracia¡¯s breath caught as the two of them found the oasis at the centre of the town. The moth¡¯s head, sticking out the still emerald sheen of water, was the size of a small building. Its once-glowing orange exoskeleton dulled, but it was still radiant, patterns etched across its surface like molten veins. ¡°This¡¯ll do,¡± she whispered under her breath, her vision pulsing red with hunger. ¡°Let¡¯s go, sis. Time to¡ª¡± ¡°Wait.¡± Apocia said sharply. Thracia froze mid-step, turning to her older sister with a frown. ¡°What now?¡± But Apocia wasn¡¯t looking at her. Her older sister was staring past the ruins, squinting at the horizon, so she looked in the same direction and cupped her hands over her eyes. Then she saw it. A small figure stood on a distant dune, nearly a thousand meters away. She could barely make out the details, but the wide stance and the silhouette of a quiver on their back was unmistakable. It was an archer. The glint of sunlight on polished metal chitin gave Thracia just enough time to react. She tensed as the archer raised her bow, the movement fluid and precise, and then released a single arrow into the sky with a terrifyingly sharp whistle. Apocia grabbed her head and took a calm step back as the arrow suddenly started glowing and accelerated, crossing a thousand metres in five seconds and crashing into the oasis in front of them. The explosion that followed was instant, a roaring column of fire that sent a shockwave rippling outwards, evaporating the entire oasis in a hiss of steam and smoke. Thracia grimaced. The heat seared her skin even through her cloak. When the smoke eventually passed and sand stopped falling from the sky, the archer stood perched atop the burning moth head, having grabbed onto and flew with her own arrow like a comet across the desert. Thracia narrowed her eyes. The woman was tall, lithe, and clad in light northern-style ranger armour that gleamed with an almost crimson ceremonial shine. An archer through and through. Her helmet sported two curved horns, and her bow was obsidian-black¡ªboth Swarmsteel made out of bombardier beetle chitin, no doubt¡ªbut both the weapon and the helmet looked so casual on her that the first thought Thracia had was ¡®danger¡¯. This was a woman who¡¯d been fighting with her Swarmsteel for a long, long time, to the point they felt like they were a physical part of her. ¡°... I thought it might be you two trying to nab the sun moth¡¯s head,¡± the archer said, her voice carrying twenty metres across the desert town easily. ¡°The recent spider-related deaths in the city made it obvious you were here, so all I had to do was set up around here and wait for you to come¡ªbut what¡¯s up with the Swarm in recent years? Why are you all being so sneaky recently?¡± Thracia glanced at Apocia, whose expression was unreadable. Her own heart was pounding as the archer tilted her chin back, looking down on the two of them. If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. ¡°Take what happened a few months ago. The titans of the Rampaging Hinterland Front managed to fire thirteen cocoons thousands of kilometres down south without any of the De Balla¡¯s aura radars picking them up. Then there was that ¡®Madamaron¡¯ case a bit west of here. I know she¡¯s not the greatest tracker, but it shouldn¡¯t have taken her months to find a little low-rank Mutant-Class,¡± the archer continued, gesturing vaguely around with her bow. ¡°Then there¡¯s what happened to the Whirlpool City in the far west six years ago. Three Insect Gods, hundreds of Mutant-Classes, and thousands of Giant-Classes, all just popped up out of nowhere without anyone being able to detect their auras. Then there¡¯s what happened to the Parasitarch in Bharncair eight years ago, then there¡¯s what happened with the Ladybug God in the Harbour City ten years ago, and¡­ well, you get the point. ¡°It¡¯s like all of you just received a Swarm-wide evolution. ¡°It¡¯s not just the Insect Gods. Even the lower ranks like your Mutant-Classes, your Giant-Classes, your Critter-Classes¡­ it¡¯s like someone just taught all of you how to suppress your aura signals. The two of you would have never made it this close to the City of Feasts ten years ago without someone detecting your aura. ¡°So how are you doing this? ¡°Even now, your aura¡¯s a bit¡­ faded. It¡¯s like I can¡¯t really detect it unless I¡¯m really paying attention, but I don¡¯t feel like you¡¯re doing anything special. ¡°Is it a new mutation? ¡°When did it start? ¡°How is it that all of you managed to mutate the same ability across the entire continent?¡± ¡°...¡± Apocia didn¡¯t answer. Thracia didn¡¯t dare speak. And the silence stretched, the desert wind whispering through the ruins. So the archer sighed eventually, shaking her head. ¡°Not that it matters to me personally. The Hierophant, the High Priestess, and Judgement are already dissecting your kin to figure out what mutation is letting all of you suppress your aura signals. My job here as the Sun is much simpler.¡± Then she raised her bow, nocking a black-chitin arrow with practised ease. ¡°I¡¯m here to kill the last of the Seven Spider Spinners.¡± Then she released her arrow, and it turned into a churning, spiralling flame-tipped missile. Thracia didn¡¯t wait. She didn¡¯t hesitate. She spat a spiraling web that twisted through the air and smothered the flames, and at the same time, Apocia dashed in front of her to block the arrow with her forearm. The impact sent a concussive shockwave behind the two of them, kicking up a cloud of sand. For a second, the explosion stripped the air of all sound. Smoke swirled around Apocia¡¯s charred limb, exposing cracks in her exoskeleton. Both of their undersized beige cloaks had burned away as well, so Thracia saw no point keeping their true forms hidden anymore. She ripped hers off in one hand, Apocia¡¯s off in the other, and with six arms bristling with fury, the two of them finally looked like the inglorious Spider Gods they were. We won¡¯t be hiding anymore, huh? Fine by me. A sudden barrage of arrows followed, each one streaking with fire. Thracia and Apocia weaved back behind a crumbling wall as explosions erupted around them, and the Sun leaped from the burning moth head to a broken archway, firing mid-air. Each explosive arrow cut off their retreat before they could put much distance between them. ¡°Damn her,¡± Thracia muttered, darting behind cover. A charred arrowhead stuck out of the sand nearby, still smoking. ¡°That unwieldy bow isn¡¯t slowing her down at all.¡± ¡°But she¡¯s not invincible,¡± Apocia snarled, crouching beside her. One of her arms flexed, the cracked exoskeleton already beginning to knit itself back together. ¡°We need to box her in.¡± The Sun wasn¡¯t giving them time to think, though. Another arrow whistled through the air over their heads, its fiery trail carving a streak across the sky before it suddenly swerved down at them. Apocia tossed her away. Thracia spat a web and jerked Apocia to the side. The arrow slammed into an old fountain a second later, shattering the structure and forcing the sisters to scatter, separate. Thracia sprinted into the shadows of a half-collapsed building. She leaped onto a wall, her claws digging into the sandstone as she clung there, waiting. Below her, Apocia smashed through two, three, four more half-collapsed buildings, sending sand and debris flying into the air just to lower the archer¡¯s visibility. After all, they had no idea where the Sun was firing at them from. Where? Where would an archer who can swerve arrows be now? As Thracia surveyed the crumbling desert town from her vantage point, more arrows grazed Apocia below her. A burst of fire detonated at Apocia¡¯s feet, forcing her to shield herself with two of her arms while the others tore chunks of rubble from her path. Even more arrows swerved in from ten, twenty, thirty different directions, none flying along the same path as they exploded on contact with Apocia¡ªbut then Thracia noticed a glint of black behind a small window just ten metres to the side. The archer was far, far, far closer than she¡¯d expected, and that was precisely why she didn¡¯t even think to check the vicinity. She didn¡¯t wait. She immediately spat a cluster of sticky webs, aiming for the Sun¡¯s face. The strands spiraled out, weaving an unbreakable net that¡¯d suffocate the archer if it landed for sure, but the Sun noticed and vaulted effortlessly, jumping out her window as the webs missed her by inches. She immediately leapt onto the adjacent rooftop ten metres away, already nocking another arrow. ¡°She¡¯s toying with us,¡± Thracia grumbled. ¡°She can definitely volley arrows at us from hundreds of metres away without putting herself in harm¡¯s way, so the fact that she¡¯s this close to us means she¡¯s confident. She has some close-quarter ace up her sleeve.¡± ¡°No,¡± Apocia corrected, grunting as she swatted ten more explosive arrows out of the air. ¡°She¡¯s just stalling.¡± ¡°You sure?¡± ¡°A decade ago, she might¡¯ve stood a chance, but things have changed,¡± Apocia said quietly, stomping and raising a slab of sandstone in front of her like a wall. Three more explosive arrows detonated on it, shattering the wall and buying her a bit of reprieve. ¡°We grow stronger at a faster rate than the humans, and apart from the top eight of the Arcana Hasharna¡ªthe Fool, the Magician, Strength, the Empress, the Chariot, the Tower, Judgement, and the Devil¡ªthe rest of them need to double-up even against F-Rank Insect Gods like us these days. The Sun is ranked eleventh. She can¡¯t kill us alone. Unless one of the top eight is around, she¡¯d need three more Arcana Hasharana in order to deal with the two of us.¡± Thracia frowned, curling a lip. ¡°But we¡¯ve been keeping tabs on the Fool. He¡¯s still in the City of Feasts. Who is she stalling fo¡ª¡± ¡°I¡¯m here, I¡¯m here, I¡¯m here! Sorry I¡¯m late!¡± And right on cue, a crimson shadow swept over the two of them. Thracia didn¡¯t look up. Neither did Apocia. Both of them leapt back on instinct as a second Arcana Hasharana crashed down in the middle of the street, sand and debris exploding outwards. As Thracia clicked her tongue in irritation and stood abreast with her older sister, the dust cleared, and an even younger girl staggered out of the crater with a sickle, a curved saif, a spear, and a double-sided axe in four hands. She was young¡ªbarely out of her teens¡ªbut her hair was ashen white, her crimson cloak was patterned like moth wings, and she had a mad, mad smile on her face. Then she glanced over her shoulder to wink at the Sun. ¡°... I¡¯m here!¡± she said cheerily. ¡°The Hangman, ranked eighteenth of the Arcana Hasharana, is here to squash a few bugs!¡± Chapter 86 - Two (II) Jiayin crouched low on the roof¡¯s edge, her black bombardier beetle bow still faintly glowing from her last shot. She could be focusing on the two Spider Gods in the near distance, but instead, she scowled down at Alice standing nonchalantly in the rubble below, brushing sand off her crimson cloak like she¡¯d just strolled in from an afternoon nap. ¡°... Your senses still suck,¡± Jiayin muttered. ¡°What were you doing this time? Napping through the chaos?¡± Alice glanced up and around with a cheery grin, her expression unbothered. ¡°I was out on a date, actually! In the city!¡± She stretched her arms over her head, tilting her head back lazily. ¡°Didn¡¯t really wanna come here, you know? Don¡¯t you have this situation under control?¡± Jiayin¡¯s glare hardened. ¡°Oh, of course. Because why would you actually do your job?¡± Without waiting for a response, she nocked an arrow tipped with sticky chemical explosives and loosed it down at Alice. Alice caught it mid-flight without flinching. The arrow¡¯s ember tip hissed faintly in her palm, and just as she rolled her eyes and laughed, the delayed explosion engulfed her in a cloud of flames. Jiayin ignored the young girl as she continued laughing through the fire. The ¡®Sun¡¯ was back in bug-slayer mode. Jiayin snapped back to the two Spider Gods standing a dozen paces apart at the end of the street¡ªtheir predatory postures were still tense and calculating, six arms bristling with the air of bloody violence. She raised her bow at them and nocked another arrow, her fingers steady. ¡°Reinforcements are coming,¡± she called out plainly. ¡°The two of you won¡¯t get out of this desert alive. We¡¯ve been tracking you since the Worm God killed the fifth sister.¡± Thracia shifted slightly, her dark, spindly form blending into the shadows of the broken architecture. Her sharp eyes flicked to the edges of the ruined town, scanning for movement, for the reinforcements Jiayin had promised. Jiayin smirked, her tone mocking. ¡°What¡¯s the matter? Don¡¯t believe me? Did you really think we¡¯d leave the Hasharana Entrance Exam this vulnerable? Every bug-slaying organization worth their salt on this continent is on high alert near the City of Feasts. You¡¯re cornered. You¡¯ll die here.¡± Thracia¡¯s lips curled in a snarl, but she didn¡¯t speak. Beside her, Apocia shifted, her massive, armoured form glinting faintly in the harsh sunlight. Jiayin¡¯s voice dropped lower, her bow still drawn, her arrow aimed squarely at Thracia¡¯s chest. ¡°But humour me before you die,¡± she said slowly. ¡°What are the two of you really trying to do here? You didn¡¯t come all this way just to mess with some randoms in the city. You knew this was basically going to be suicide from the start¡ªyou knew there was going to be a trap for you¡ªbut you still chose to come here. Why?¡± Silence answered her. Thracia¡¯s gaze didn¡¯t waver, though her expression darkened. ¡°... Nothing to say?¡± Jiayin shrugged, her tone dismissive. ¡°Whatever. We¡¯ll just kill you and call it a day.¡± Crackling amber blood swirled around the tip of her arrow, drawn from her aura, and flames roared to life on the black arrowhead. Below, Alice flexed her fingers, weaving a wickedly sharp glaive with thin crimson threads bleeding out from under their nails. But Apocia surged forward first, the air around her rippling with the shimmer of her aura. ¡°Watch it, Alice,¡± Jiayin said lazily, firing her arrow. If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. Apocia¡¯s response was instant. She thrust a hand forward, releasing a barrage of bristling blood-spines that tore through the air like shrapnel. They intercepted Jiayin¡¯s arrow mid-flight, detonating in the air, but about a hundred more spines kept coming, dozens of them slicing toward her and Alice. If she were by herself, she might be in a little bit of trouble. However, Alice reacted just as quickly as well, tearing her glaive apart and instant-weaving a dense, giant wall just as the blood-spines struck. The collision sent a deafening crack through the air, followed by a plume of smoke and sand that swallowed the ruined oasis town. By the time Jiayin finished coughing and waved her free hand to clear the sand cloud, the only things left at the end of the street were the two molted carapaces of the Spider Gods. The ground shifted beneath her feet. She sprang backward instinctively, her boots skidding on the rooftop tiles as the molted carapace of one of the sisters came into view through the settling dust. ¡°...Damnit.¡± Jiayin narrowed her eyes at the hollow statues at the end of the street. They loomed in eerie stillness, glinting faintly in the sunlight, their chitin plates, ridges, and spines frozen mid-motion. A lot of Insect Gods in recent years appear to have the same mutation¡ªthe ability to instantly moult and leave a part of their killing pressure behind so pursuers would be thrown off-guard. Obviously, doing so weakened them massively, but it simply made them that much more slippery to catch. ¡°Cowards,¡± she muttered under her breath, kicking a loose tile off the roof. It clattered noisily down the side of the building, disturbing the heavy silence that¡¯d settled over the town. Alice, however, glanced at the petrified shells, her gaze curious but unbothered. ¡°They managed to eat a few more people in the city before coming here, didn¡¯t they?¡± Jiayin clicked her tongue in irritation, drawing her bowstring back and releasing it with a sharp snap to vent her frustration. ¡°They must¡¯ve. Picked off a handful of unawares in the city when they shouldn¡¯t have been able to. That¡¯s the only reason they could afford to moult at all. They¡¯ve regained a bit of strength¡ªbut they¡¯re still weak, all things considered. Weak even for F-Rank Spider Gods.¡± ¡°Really?¡± Alice tilted her head, smirking faintly. ¡°They didn¡¯t seem so weak when Apocia was spitting bristles everywhere!¡± Jiayin waved her off. ¡°They¡¯re part of the older generation of Insect Gods. Their growth rate¡¯s pathetic compared to the newer ones.¡± Then she hopped off the roof, slung her bow over her shoulder, and beckoned Alice to follow her. Alice shrugged. ¡°So, what now? They¡¯ve probably burrowed into the desert somewhere. If they really want to escape from here, they can just pick a direction and¡ª¡± ¡°They won¡¯t run,¡± Jiayin said plainly. ¡°I can¡¯t sense them anymore, but we don¡¯t have to give chase. They¡¯ll hang around. They won¡¯t leave until they get what they came here for.¡± ¡°... What about the reinforcements, though?¡± Alice said, looking around at the far edges of the town. ¡°Shouldn¡¯t we stick around to explain to them what happened here? Surely someone¡¯s gonna wanna know about the two Spider Gods running loose.¡± Jiayin let out a dry laugh, shaking her head. ¡°There aren¡¯t any reinforcements coming. It was a bluff. As if I¡¯d call random bug-slayers over to suicide against those two.¡± Alice blinked. And then she grinned from ear to ear, her mood instantly lifting. ¡°Well, if there¡¯s nothing keeping us here, let¡¯s head back!¡± she chirped. ¡°The second stage of the exam isn¡¯t going to run itself, right?¡± Jiayin hummed softly, pulling an arrow from her quiver. Its fiery tip sparked as she drew it to the bowstring, and she aimed straight up into the cloudless sky before letting it loose. The arrow streaked upward, leaving a blazing trail in its wake. As they crossed the last stretch of the oasis town¡¯s main street and exited the ruins, Alice tilted her head. ¡°What¡¯s the second stage of the exam, anyway? William¡¯s been pretty quiet about it, and so have you! I want details!¡± ¡°It¡¯s going to be a simple retrieval mission,¡± Jiayin replied curtly. ¡°It¡¯ll take place under the city. William¡¯s preparing the arena right now. That¡¯s why he¡¯s not here.¡± Alice¡¯s face lit up with excitement. ¡°Under the city? Fun! Can I tag along with the participants? What¡¯s the retrieval target? Treasure? Eggs? Parasitoid cores?¡± ¡­ Does she ever shut up? My god. I worry for the girl she picked up from that Undertown. ¡°You¡¯ll find out soon enough,¡± Jiayin said, her tone clipped but amused. The moment they left the ruins behind and started returning to the City of Feasts, the fiery arrow Jiayin had loosed slamming into the earth, striking the heart of the town with pinpoint accuracy. The explosion was instantaneous¡ªa thunderous roar that sent a shockwave rippling through the air. Flames erupted in every direction, consuming the abandoned buildings and setting the desert sands alight with a fiery glow. Neither Jiayin nor Alice looked back. Chapter 87 - Team Trainees Dahlia squinted through the flickering orange glow of the forge, sweat beading on her brow and trickling down her temple. The dry heat was oppressive, but she didn¡¯t mind. It was almost soothing¡ªthe metallic smell of molten chitin and the sweet, tangy scents of whatever Uncle Safi was cooking downstairs mixed quite well together. She swung her giant hammer down with a sharp clang, sending sparks flying from the massive glowing plate of chitin on the anvil in the middle of the room. The chitin didn¡¯t yield. The material was so goddamn stubborn, refusing to bend the way she wanted. She couldn¡¯t reshape it with her bare claws, and now she couldn¡¯t even get it to budge with the weight of an entire hammer slamming down on it. What, exactly, was she supposed to do with it? I guess this is what I get for just buying random bug parts off the bazaar for experimentation? [The plate is likely alloyed or something. There¡¯s no way the plate itself is this tough.] She continued hammering the giant plate for a few more minutes before she eventually gave up. Setting the hammer down and flexing her fingers, she plopped down on the bed in the corner of the room, lying on her back. The forge in Tavern Emparatoria was a new addition, occupying what used to be Alice¡¯s bedroom. That fact still made her stomach twist a little. It¡¯d felt wrong to turn Alice¡¯s space into this, but Uncle Safi had been so casual about it. ¡°She¡¯ll come back eventually, right?¡± she''d asked. ¡°Maybe. Maybe not. She does whatever she does, so she¡¯ll find another spot if she needs one,¡± Uncle Safi had answered. So that was how her in-house forge came to be. A sandstone smelter sat in the corner of the room. Cabinets full of smithing tools sat in another. Her workbench before the window was cluttered with half-finished trinkets¡ªrings, bracelets, and charms, all made from bits and pieces of bugs she¡¯d bought from the bazaar or received from the Hasharana for her efforts during the first stage of the exam. None of the Swarmsteel she¡¯d made in the past month felt ¡®right¡¯. She couldn¡¯t settle on a single thing she wanted to make, so now Alice¡¯s room just looked like a desert storm had swept through it, half-finished equipment strewn everywhere. And now today¡¯s the second stage of the exam, right? [Yep.] Her gaze drifted to the window, where the dim light of the rising sun painted the street outside in pretty shades of gold and crimson. At least there was one thing to feel good about. Over the past month, she¡¯d eaten enough bug meat to finally unlock her first branch mutations, so that was something. Taking a deep breath, she opened her status screen, her heart skipping a beat at the sight of the glowing words:
[Name: Dahlia Sina] [Grade: F-Rank Mutant-Class] [Class: Assassin Bug] [Swarmblood Art: Recollection] [Swarmblood Aura: 1,709 (+380)] [Points: 18] [Strength: 5 (+4), Speed: 5 (+1), Toughness: 5 (+4), Dexterity: 5 (+1), Perception: 4 (+1)] [// MUTATION TREE] [T1 Mutation | Swarmguard Deity Lvl: 5] [T2 Mutations | Basic Chitin Lvl. 5 | Basic Antennae Lvl. 5] [T3 Mutations | Basic Claws | Stridulating Throat | Basic Setae Lvl: 3] 150P [// EQUIPPED SWARMSTEEL] [Assassin Bug Claw Gauntlets (Grade: C-Rank)(Str: +2/3)(Dex: +1/2)(Aura: +160/300)] [Adaptable Desert Locust Greaves (Grade: E-Rank)(Spd +1/1](Tou +2/2)(Aura: +50/60)] [Glasswing Butterfly Goggles (Grade: F-Rank)(Per: +1/1)(Aura: +10/10)] [Adaptable Firefly Bracers (Grade: C-Rank)(Str: +1/2)(Tou: +1/1)(Aura: +80/250)] [Adaptable Antlion Cloak (Grade: E-Rank)(Spd: +1/1)(Tou: +1/2)(Aura +60/120)]
[You can now choose branch mutations for your tier two core mutations, ¡®Basic Chitin¡¯ and ¡®Basic Antennae¡¯,] Kari murmured. [Wanna do it now or later?] I wanna at least see the options first. [Sure.]
[First Branch Mutation Selection available for T2 Core Mutation ¡®Basic Chitin¡¯] [First Branch Mutation Option: Hardened Chitin] [Brief Description: The chitin plates over your skin will become harder and tougher, reducing your overall flexibility but providing more external protection against all sorts of physical attacks. At max level, your chitin plates will be thrice as tough as your toughness level] [Second Branch Mutation Option: Hollow Chitin] [Brief Description: The chitin plates over your skin will become hollow, allowing them to trap air inside and provide a small amount of thermal insulation] [Third Branch Mutation Option: Prismatic Chitin] [Brief Description: Your chitin plates will gain the ability to shift colors dynamically, allowing you to blend into your surroundings or create bright, distracting patterns. At max level, the color changes will be almost instantaneous, enabling real-time camouflage during movement]
[First Branch Mutation Selection available for T2 Core Mutation ¡®Basic Antennae¡¯] [First Branch Mutation Option: Dagger Antennae] [Brief Description: Your antennae have become sharper, allowing you to use them as daggers in extremely close-range combat] [Second Branch Mutation Option: Ambush Antennae] [Brief Description: Your antennae have developed advanced sensory nodes capable of detecting even more minute vibrations in the air and ground. At max level, the sensitivity of your antennae will be four times that of your perception level] [Third Branch Mutation Option: Disruptor Antennae] [Brief Description: Your antennae have developed the ability to emit low-frequency vibrations that can interfere with the sensory perception of nearby creatures. With subsequent levels in this mutation, the vibrations can slightly dampen the effects of killing pressure directed at you]
¡­ And whatever I pick¡ª [Will be irreversible, yep. You can''t un-mutate a mutation. Furthermore, picking one branch mutation now will change the offering of branch mutations during the Second Branch Mutation Selection¡ªwhen the mutation reaches level ten, that is¡ªso do think long and hard about what you want.] Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings. [Alternatively, you can just leave the branch mutations be for now and make your decision when you find yourself in a pinch.] [Your call.] Dahlia stared at the glowing status screens, hesitating. Prismatic Chitin? Dagger Antennae? Or maybe... She sighed, frustration bubbling under the surface. The decision felt too permanent, too weighty for her to make right now. If she didn¡¯t have to make a choice now¡­ A sharp tap to her side startled her out of her thoughts. She immediately sat upright to see Emilia perched on the windowsill, a mischievous grin plastered across the cicada girl¡¯s face. ¡°Time¡¯s up!¡± Emilia announced. ¡°The second stage of the exam¡¯s ready. Let¡¯s go!¡± Dahlia blinked, her thoughts still half-formed. ¡°Already? Isn¡¯t it only¡­ eight in the morning? I haven¡¯t even eaten¡ª¡± Emilia waved a dismissive hand. ¡°The venue¡¯s all set, and they¡¯re waiting for us. Chop chop!¡± With that, Emilia fell backwards and down onto the street. Dahlia didn¡¯t race to the window to see if she¡¯d landed safely. Sighing again, she cracked her knuckles and tested the weight of her hammer before slinging it over her shoulder. She considered taking the quick way out¡ªthe window¡ªbut shook her head. Instead, she headed downstairs the normal way, the wooden stairs creaking faintly under her shoes. Downstairs, Tavern Emparatoria buzzed with its usual morning energy. A few patrons were already passed out drunk on the elevated round tables, while Safi was behind the kitchen counter at the stove, flipping something golden and fragrant in a pan. She¡¯d like to sit down and have breakfast in peace, but instead, all she could do was pause by the bar to grab a quick sip of water. ¡°Stay safe,¡± Safi said casually, waving her away. She didn¡¯t exactly reply, though her eyes wandered around the far corners of the tavern. Alice¡¯s favourite spots¡ªthe seats by the round windows¡ªwere empty, just as they¡¯d been for weeks. The same gnawing worry clawed at her chest, but she pushed it down, forcing herself to focus. She wasn¡¯t exactly worried about the Arcana Hasharana, no, and she probably wasn¡¯t missing the loudmouth¡¯s presence, either, but¡­ twenty days was a long, long time. Even for the ever-ephemeral. Don¡¯t you know where she is, Kari? Can¡¯t you¡­ track her location or something? Kari turned on her shoulder and stared at her pointedly. [I can¡¯t access any live navigation functions until I become a registered Altered Swarmsteel System, and even then, she¡¯s an Arcana Hasharana. You can¡¯t just ¡®track¡¯ an Arcana Hasharana.] Figures. As she stepped out of the tavern, adjusting the strap of her hammer over her shoulder, she blinked at the ruckus unfolding before her. Even in the relatively tucked-away corner of Eighth Mantid Street, people were bustling and cheering. Vendors waved brightly colored fans made of beetle wings, their stalls laden with insect-themed delicacies, like roasted grubs and scorpion-tail skewers. Children darted through the crowd, laughing as they chased each other with oversized mantis masks. There was some celebration going around, and¡­ Emilia, leaning against a nearby lamp post with a steaming ant leg meat in her fist, caught Dahlia¡¯s gaze and grinned. ¡°Finally,¡± she said. ¡°Thought I¡¯d have to drag you out myself.¡± ¡°What¡¯s... going on?¡± Dahlia asked, her eyes darting to a procession where a group of dancers dressed in silken wings twirled to the rhythmic pounding of drum beetles. ¡°It¡¯s so... loud.¡± Emilia laughed, patting Dahlia¡¯s shoulder as she continued chewing on her ant leg. ¡°The second stage of the Hasharana Entrance Exam always turns into a festival here. The city loves throwing a party.¡± Then she waved her hand toward a parade passing through, led by a tamed Giant-Class spider crawling forward with performers perched on its glittering back. ¡°But¡­ do the people even know who passed the first stage?¡± Dahlia said, furrowing her brows as she sidestepped a small child carrying a balloon shaped like a stag beetle horn. ¡°The Sun didn¡¯t publicise our names or anything, right?¡± ¡°That¡¯s the point,¡± Emilia replied with a shrug. ¡°They just wanna celebrate the next batch of bug-slayers, whoever they may actually be. It¡¯s a convenient excuse to drink and eat too much.¡± Dahlia frowned at the thought. She didn¡¯t really understand the enthusiasm. Sure, she¡¯d passed the first stage, but there was still a chance they¡¯d all fail the second stage and turn out to be the first batch of participants to not have a single passing participant. Has that ever happened before, Kari? [Never. Even the toughest year had at least three Hasharana passing the exam.] The thought wasn¡¯t very reassuring, but as the two of them travelled through the crowded streets, squeezing through thick crowds on their way to the Hasharana¡¯s temple, Dahlia stumbled as she bumped into someone¡¯s large back. She blinked. The two of them looked up at the same time to see Muyang glancing back at them. The man was dragging his giant stag beetle helm behind him as ever, but he was significantly more armoured than the last time they¡¯d seen him. Red and black-streaked beetle chitin armour was strapped over his shoulders, elbows, and knees, while giant butcher blades were strapped to the sides of his bulky greaves, making it so he looked like he had glaives for legs. ¡°... Greetings, Miss Dahlia, Miss Emilia,¡± he said, dipping his head courteously. ¡°Are you heading to the temple as well?¡± Emilia grinned. ¡°Where else would we be going?¡± He didn¡¯t answer, and only gave a faint shrug before trudging forward. The two of them started following. Because he was so massive, people had to move out of the way just to let him pass, and that meant the two of them could walk in his shadow without getting jostled around by the crowd. Funnily enough, his wide shadow attracted another familiar figure, who stumbled out of the crowd from nowhere and bumped into Dahlia¡¯s shoulder. Emilia whistled. ¡°I see you¡¯ve taken a liking to more exotic clothes, my dear Noble-Blood,¡± she said, eying Wisnu up and down. In response, Wisnu¡ªin her bright, exotic, flowy cafe waitress dress¡ªimmediately shied away and tried to walk in front of Muyang instead, shielding herself from Emilia¡¯s teasing eyes using her giant sawtooth greatsword. ¡°I was working, and my usual gear is still in the wash,¡± Wisnu muttered, exchanging a polite nod with Muyang and Dahlia as she did. ¡°I¡­ did not think it would take the washerwomen in this city this long to treat my normal clothes. It has been three days already, and I cannot find them in their stall anymore.¡± ¡°You sure they didn¡¯t just run off with your noble clothes and money?¡± Emilia joked. ¡°What?¡± ¡°What?¡± ¡°I got robbed as well,¡± Otto muttered, jerking out of the crowd from the other side to join them in his thick fur coat. He nodded in greeting as Dahlia beamed at him. The rifle slung over his back seemed significantly longer and thicker since the last time she saw him a few weeks ago. ¡°I paid this guy down the street twenty thousand silvers to run maintenance on ten boxes of my high-caliber anti-chitin bullets, and he just ran off with my money. Now I¡¯m only down to ten boxes.¡± By the time they reached the sandstone temple at the end of the bazaar, the festive air began to give way to a more somber tension. The building loomed over them, its massive gates guarded by four hooded, flower-caped bug-slayers. The Hasharana warded off all the partying men and let only the five of them through¡ªthey must¡¯ve been told who the participants were and what the five of them looked like¡ªso Dahlia had an easy time skipping up the stairs and slipping into the temple. Inside, the air was cooler, the sunlight filtering through horizontal slits in the high ceilings. The five of them, still squabbling and chatting idly, were about to head deeper inside when a sixth voice came from the shadows. Behind a sandstone pillar right next to Dahlia. ¡°And what bug are ye supposed to be?¡± Blaire murmured, dangling upside down against the pillar, her foot hooked around a barbed wire as she ran her syringe claws across Dahlia¡¯s cheek. ¡°This scent¡­ this aura¡­ yer some kinda¡ª¡± Wisnu slashed at the Plagueplain Doctor, forcing her to curl up, kick off the pillar, and backflip behind all of them. The moment she landed and all of them whirled to face her, the giant sandstone doors slammed shut, and the horizontal slits in the ceiling suddenly closed to plunge them into darkness. Dahlia¡¯s breath hitched. The oppressive silence stretched, broken only by the faint, unmistakable sound of countless legs skittering in the dark. It was faint at first¡ªlike a whisper on the edge of hearing¡ªbut then it grew louder, surrounding them. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. ¡°Stay sharp,¡± Otto muttered, the metallic click of his rifle echoing in the black. ¡°This is probably a test.¡± Dahlia gripped her hammer tightly, her knuckles whitening. The others tensed, weapons at the ready, every sense straining to pinpoint the source of the sound. Then, with a loud thud, something fell from above. Before anyone could strike preemptively, Otto flicked a lighter, igniting the lantern hanging from his hip. Warm, flickering light spilled outwards in a five metre radius¡ªand it was just enough range to illuminate the figure sprawled awkwardly on the ground. Dahlia frowned. Everyone else did too. It wasn¡¯t a bug. It was a man. The stranger groaned, rubbing his head as he staggered to his feet. He was tall and lanky, his messy hair sticking out at odd angles, and a pair of oversized round glasses sat crooked on his nose. His plain, slightly rumpled desert vagrant clothes and bewildered expression did little to inspire confidence, but¡­ there was something a little off about the man. Dahlia couldn¡¯t place ¡®what¡¯ exactly. "... Not my smoothest entrance, but it¡¯ll do," he muttered, straightening his glasses with a sheepish grin. ¡°Everyone okay? No one stabbed me, right? Good, good. I¡¯d have docked your points if you¡¯d stabbed me because your vision was so crap you couldn¡¯t tell a human from a bug.¡± Then the man¡¯s face lit up, as though he¡¯d just remembered something important. ¡°Oh, right. First things first: congratulations to all of you.¡± He spread his arms wide, as if expecting applause. ¡°You¡¯ve all passed the first stage. Fantastic work. I know that Mutant-Class sun moth was a nightmare¡ªI told Jiayin not to put it there because it¡¯d kill too many of you¡ªbut the six of you made it, so all¡¯s well that ends well. Now, the good news: stage two will be significantly less... stressful. Probably." ¡°Probably?¡± Wisnu echoed, her tone laced with suspicion. The man either didn¡¯t hear her or pretended not to. ¡°Anyway, if you¡¯ll follow me, I¡¯ll take you to the briefing room. Lots to cover, lots to plan, and then we¡¯ll just get started with the exam.¡± He turned on his heel, striding toward a dimly lit corridor at the back of the foyer. But Otto, ever cautious, called out, ¡°Wait. Who are you again?¡± The man stopped mid-step. Then he turned, blinked, before giving all of them a little wave to beckon them forward. ¡°I¡¯m the Fool, ranked first of the Arcana Hasharana,¡± he said cheerily. ¡°I¡¯ll be the proctor for the second stage of the exam.¡± Chapter 88 - Thoraxwine The meeting room beneath the temple smelled faintly of incense and old parchment, the air warm and dry despite the sandstone walls pressing in around them. Dahlia sat stiffly on one of the low, sunken sofas, her fingers curled against her lap, shifting every few seconds to keep her legs from brushing against Wisnu¡¯s. It wasn¡¯t that she disliked Wisnu. She just didn¡¯t know what to do with herself in close spaces like this. Across from her on another sofa, Otto was silent, his gaze locked on the rifle resting on his lap. Muyang sat next to him, arms crossed, his back against his giant beetle helm. Emilia sprawled across her entire sofa with the easy confidence of someone who owned the room, kicking back with her legs crossed and her arms folded under her head. Blaire, meanwhile, took the sofa furthest away from all of them in the corner of the room, but she was sitting strangely prim and proper compared to the rest of them. ¡®The rest of them¡¯ including the Fool, of course. The Fool sat upside down on the ceiling at the front of the room, right before the large honeycomb-patterned glass wall. He hadn¡¯t said a word yet, only adjusting the cuffs of his slightly wrinkled coat while looking at them all with sharp, expectant eyes. Dahlia shifted again uncomfortably Just start talking already. Finally, the Fool clapped his hands together. ¡°Alright. Second stage. Let¡¯s get into it.¡± The glass wall behind him flickered, golden lines crawling across its surface like veins in amber. Then, with a smooth hum, the glass brightened, revealing an image of the City of Feasts from above¡ªa messy web of streets and buildings sprawled across the desert like an oasis of stone and chitin. Dahlia¡¯s breath caught. She¡¯d never seen the city from this perspective before. Kari murmured, tilting her head toward the image. [Satellite moths. They¡¯re tiny bioarcanic constructs developed by a far eastern academy. They hover in the sky and snap images from above, then transmit the information back down to those honeycomb glasses, giving the Hasharana strategic views of wherever they¡¯re about to operate.] Are they common? [Not at all. They¡¯re pretty difficult to come by, but this is the Hasharana Entrance Exam, after all.] Kari shrugged. [Stands to reason they have a few hundred satellite moths monitoring the city at all times to make sure nothing gets in the Hasharana¡¯s way.] The Fool smirked at all of their intrigued expressions, then swiped his hand across the honeycomb wall. The image shifted¡ªzooming in, the buildings peeling away, sinking lower and lower¡ªuntil they were no longer looking at the city directly, but at something surrounding it. A giant leg. Dahlia stiffened. It wasn¡¯t just any leg. It was the remains of a spider¡ªa monstrous, grotesque titan¡ªthat lay buried beneath the city¡¯s foundation, its curled legs stretching inwards at the borders of the city like petrified ribs. ¡°The new City of Feasts,¡± the Fool said, leaning left and right as he gestured aimlessly at the giant legs, ¡°was built atop the carcass of an Insect God. She was one of the Seven Spider Brood, and she met her end here decades ago thanks to the efforts of the Magician and the Star. Due to special circumstances, her body was extremely difficult to remove from the desert, so after all was said and done, the locals just ended up rebuilding this city on top of her. Following so far?¡± Dahlia swallowed. She¡¯d heard the names before. The Magician¡ªranked two of the Arcana Hasharana and Emilia''s dad¡ªand the Star, who she swore she¡¯d heard Otto talking about some time ago. The Star was some sort of researcher or professor of Swarmsteel and biometallic constructs in the far east, which was why Otto seemed to admire her so much whenever he talked about her. ¡°But here¡¯s the part they don¡¯t teach in history books,¡± the Fool continued. ¡°Most people think her body is just dry husk and bone. You¡¯ve all seen her shrivelled legs sticking out of the sand with your own eyes, right? But the truth is, the lower half of her body beneath the desert is still fresh, and that¡¯s where things get interesting.¡± The image shifted again, the top-down view of the city dropping and dropping until it suddenly sank through the ground, tunneling deeper. Darkness for a second. It was like the satellite moths were phasing through solid sand and stone until a new image formed suddenly¡ªan eerily detailed underground chamber with pulsating, faintly glowing reddish-blue walls. Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings. ¡°This is the heart chamber,¡± the Fool said, rapping the glass behind him with a knuckle. ¡°Despite being dead for decades, the Spider God¡¯s heart is still warm. And not just warm, really¡ªit¡¯s still circulating blood throughout the entire lower half of her body.¡± ¡°Wait,¡± Otto cut in, his brows furrowing. ¡°You mean to say this thing¡¯s still alive?¡± The Fool snorted. ¡°No. It¡¯s dead. Completely, unequivocally, dead. Trust me, if it weren¡¯t, we wouldn¡¯t be sitting in this cozy meeting room right now, but there¡¯s no doubt that its heart is still functioning. No nervous system, no consciousness¡ªjust a big, meaty biological engine that keeps pumping and producing blood.¡± Emilia frowned. ¡°Why?¡± ¡°Because the bioarcane is weird. The Swarm is weird. You can throw all the logic you want at Insect Gods, and sometimes, they¡¯ll still do things that make no sense. This one? Her body refuses to rot properly. And that¡¯s useful to us.¡± Dahlia frowned slightly. ¡°Useful how?¡± The Fool grinned. ¡°Because the blood from its heart is one of the more valuable resources the Hasharana trade and export for wealth. Engineers and tailors and general workers at the Genesis Glade drink it regularly as part of their strengthening regimen. Soldiers across the Six Swarmsteel Fronts get it in their supply chains as a supplement drink. It¡¯s been helping sustain humanity¡¯s war efforts for decades, because apart from eating bug meat to gain points, you can drink bug blood as well. It¡¯s on-the-move points for people who don¡¯t have time to sit down and eat bug meat properly, which makes it an important asset for sustaining the functions of the organization.¡± As the Fool kept talking, gesturing to various parts of the glowing honeycomb glass wall, Kari murmured in her head. [Spider blood¡¯s a bit different from regular insect blood. Most insects have gold-green hemolymph because they don¡¯t use their blood for oxygen transport. But spiders? Their blood is blue] Dahlia blinked. Blue? [Yeah. Their blood contains ¡®hemocyanin¡¯, which binds with oxygen. It works like ¡®hemoglobin¡¯ in human blood, but instead of iron, it uses copper. That¡¯s what makes it blue. It also means their circulatory system functions differently from most insects¡ªspiders don¡¯t just rely on tracheal respiration like bugs do, in which oxygen diffuses into their organs across their entire body. They need blood and blood vessels to carry oxygen to their organs, especially since spiders tend to be bigger than most insects.] I didn¡¯t¡­ know that. [But here¡¯s the real kicker,] Kari continued. [Spiders also use their blood for hydraulics. They increase their blood pressure whenever they want to extend their legs, which is why they curl up when they die. There¡¯s no more pressure keeping them stretched out. Now, these two traits combined¡ªthe high-pressure blue oxygenated blood¡ªis the reason why spider blood is highly coveted in the brewing and manufacturing of a special drink called ¡®Thoraxwine¡¯.] [The blue blood means it¡¯s packed more oxygen than usual insect blood, which means more points, and since it¡¯s naturally high-pressure when it¡¯s harvested, it absorbs faster in a human body, making it an ideal point resource for the battlefield.] Then the Fool clapped his hands, dragging everyone¡¯s attention back to him. ¡°... So. We only harvest spider blood from this carcass in particular when stock runs low in the Genesis Glade, and that¡¯s usually once a year. Normally, the Worm God just sends an Arcana Hasharana or two down there to do a harvesting run, but this year?¡± A sharp grin. ¡°We¡¯re making it your exam.¡± A beat of silence. Emilia exhaled. ¡°Lemme guess. We¡¯re going to clear out whatever¡¯s infested the blood vessel tunnels?¡± ¡°Exactly.¡± The Fool beamed at her. ¡°Every year, new bugs show up, burrowing in, nesting, feasting. They¡¯re usually not too much trouble for the Arcana Hasharaana, but this year, all of you are going to¡ª Before she could dwell on it, movement near the doorway caught her eye. Two figures kicked in the front door, trailing dust and streaks of ash. One donned black chitin armour gleaming even through the grime. The other was wrapped in a vibrant red moth-patterned cloak, her pale hair a wild mess, a grin stretched across her face. The Sun and Alice. ¡°Hi!¡± Alice waved at all of them. ¡°What¡¯s up? What¡¯s the second stage of the exam like? Jiayin won¡¯t tell me, so¡ª¡± The Sun pinched her ear and dragged her to the front of the room, directly under the Fool, and Dahlia couldn¡¯t help but raise a brow as her eyes met with Alice¡¯s for a brief moment. ¡°Where were you?¡± Dahlia asked. ¡°You just¡­ upped and left for twenty days. Where did you¡ª¡± ¡°Just a bit of hunting.¡± Alice waved her concerns away. ¡°Now listen. William¡¯s speaking¡ª¡± ¡°I am speaking, so be quiet,¡± the Fool mumbled, clapping again. ¡°The passing condition is simple: you have one month to reach the heart chamber and bring back a vial of spider blood.¡± Dahlia¡¯s fingers twitched. That¡¯s it? Emilia tilted her head. ¡°And the details?¡± ¡°Up to you. The closest entrance to the blood vessels of the giant carcass is north, at the city¡¯s edge. Prepare, gather supplies, or kick back and relax for a few days. It doesn¡¯t matter to me what you do. As long as you get the vial back here before the deadline, you¡¯ll pass the second stage of the exam.¡± ¡°... And the surprises?¡± Wisnu asked. The Fool smirked. ¡°It wouldn¡¯t be a surprise if I told you. Now hurry on. I don¡¯t care if you go at it alone or in a team. Hell, all six of you can team up and jump any bug you encounter on the way to the heart chamber for all I care. The one month time limit starts now.¡±