We find our way back to the ant, still waiting for me. It seems a little worried at the size of our party, but when I apply the same suppression as before, the wariness wears off. She quickly rushes in and gives me a flick of an antenna and a tap from a mandible, noting her displeasure at being made to wait in the tunnels for so long.

  I reply with a small request to head back quickly, if she’s in a hurry.

  The ant gives me a click of her mandibles, which I choose to interpret as a huff, then walks off. And we follow.

  Watching her maneuver around the tunnels is fun. She picks each direction so confidently, probably following a trail of some kind. After a few minutes, we see another ant. Another little while passes by, and we see two more. Soon, there are dozens of ants in the tunnels, carrying bits of mushrooms and insects in the same direction as we walked.

  Sometimes, my ant friend stops to brush some spores out of the sensory hairs of her sisters. It takes a little while, but eventually, Inu tries to help one. And, as before, the ant hesitates, then presses into Inu’s hand.

  She melts, just a little bit. Her [Empathy] probably gives her more insight into the critters than I have, she’s always been good with animals. Well, maybe not that wolf that tried to eat me. That one didn’t get along well with us.

  I shrug, discarding the train of thought, as my mana pushes heavily against my chest again. Since the ants seem a little wary of us, I don’t wanna use too many skills. It feels like they might see that as a sign of hostilities. So, instead, I create an orb of solid mana in my mouth, reshaping it in there. I try to chew on it and make it feel like bubblegum.

  The mana crunches a little bit as I chew it, mentally making it shift to fit my teeth. It feels like there are crystals of it grinding against my teeth, creating a funny feeling. Then, I cast [Deconstruction] on my little exercise, trying to break it and hold it together at the same time.

  We walk further into the tunnels. Norman yelps when he sees the ants carry their first humanoid body part.

  It’s a leg, overgrown with fuzzy fur, but decidedly still leg-shaped.

  A little bit of blood leaks from the appendage, dripping onto the floor. An ant is carrying it in her mandibles, shuffling by us. Bay swallows drily. I feel Inu borrowing a bit of calm from me. She sends over a bit of the horror she feels at the sight. Curious.

  Soon enough, the ant passes. We keep walking anyway. “Snow, are you sure we should throw in with the hive?” Thatch asks.

  “Would you rather try out luck with the city?” I return.

  He grimaces. “No…”

  I smile, a little. “I mean it,” I say. “If this is too much, we’ll walk. We’ll journey through the tunnels until we find another city where my bounty is forgotten. Or find some other species we can help. But, well, do you think the sapients hesitate to murder the ants?”

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  “Probably not,” he says, dejected. “It’s… fine. I just worry. My eyes are hurting. There are so many of them.”

  That, I agree with. Through the tiny link I have, I can feel them. They’re below us, above us, beside us now. Other tunnels, filled with them. Sometimes, the stone rumbles and shifts slightly, as they use magics to adjust the tunnels.

  It’s amazing, feeling the mana buzzing in the air. So many creatures means a lot of vessels producing, using, and shaping the ethereal substance to manipulate the world. I don’t think any one of these ants is stronger than me. If I really tried, I could probably crush a dozen, maybe even a hundred, but there are already thousands.

  We’re at the mercy of the swarm. It’s lucky, then, that they are silent and polite. They don’t come too close to me, they aren’t very loud, and the amount of them breaks up the echo in the caves. They also don’t need much light, leaving some strange globes hovering about.

  Somehow, they have more advanced magical lighting than we do.

  I wanna take one of their lamps apart, but that feels rude, so I let go of the urge. Instead, we follow the ant, on and on and on.

  - - -

  And then, we stand in front of a door.

  I’m very serious. The ants carved a door. It’s made from solid stone, but it has hinges, and opens from the middle once a lock is lifted from the inside. Not a very refined thing, at all, but terribly heavy and rather secure. It’s hewn into the solid wall of a cave, meaning the wall is probably about as thick as that of a fortress.

  There’s a scraping noise, and the heavy stone pushes aside. We are led inside what I can only describe as an antechamber. It’s lit with spell-globes, and has a vaulted ceiling. Inside it all, there are a few smaller monstrous ants, about the size of weasels, scurrying about, and caring for a much larger one.

  Compound eyes the size of my head turn towards us. Mandibles that could snap me cleanly in half. The monstrous ant is the size of a car, laying down on a bed of dried mushrooms. She tilts her head at me.

  I tilt my head in response.

  Her mandibles click together three times, a little bit like applause. I feel vague amusement, blurred through the double link. It seems to be more specifically with my newfound buddy, rather than the queen, specifically.

  Apparently, that doesn’t stop her, because, as a moment passes, the chitin begins click-claccing. Plates shift. Inside rearrange. The flesh beneath ripples and compressed. A second passes, then ten, and grotesque snapping noises ring out.

  A hundred thousand ants are outside, their heads snapping back to attention. From what was once a car sized monstrosity, steps an elegant looking humanoid. Segmented arms ending in two grasping claws, four legs, each ending in tiny little hooks, made to cling to ceilings, a pair of thin, insectoid wings behind her back, and the head of an ant.

  But still. Decidedly humanoid. The mandibles on her face shrink further, sinking back to reveal what almost looks like a mouth. Her… I struggle to call them lips, because they’re not, but what almost passes for lips move, making chittering noise. I listen intently, trying to decipher it.

  Richard has more luck, stepping forward, and giving a small bow.

  “Yes,” she says. “Until the system translates, I may serve as an intermediary?” she asks, formally.

  The queen nods.

  Richard turns to us, giving me a cheeky smile. “Hive queen Meg greets us. The tower has told her we may be suitable as champions of the hive. She asks if we are amicable to discuss this further?”

  I smile, faintly. “Yeah, alright,” I say. “We can talk.”

  Somewhere out there, I hope Philia the [Darkbreaker] is scared. Me and my ant buddies are about to make her life a lot worse.