At least, I would, if I weren’t still suffering from my own core being oversized. Gawd, I hate this feeling.
Crinis is leading the way down at the moment, with Tiny bringing up the rear. This is a good chance for the two of them to grind some Skill Points and I don’t want to waste it. Normally, I’d want to be grinding those Skills myself, but the discomfort I’m experiencing has dampened my enthusiasm.
As we descend through the tunnels, Crinis reaches out with a forest of dark tentacles, grasping hold of monsters before they even know she’s coming. Once held within her grasp, there is little, they can do to save themselves. More tentacles lash out and the victim is rendered unable to fight before being deposited behind her. One of the ants steps forward to deliver the finishing strike, before the rest approach to devour the Biomass.
We’re advancing in record time. This System is nothing if not efficient. The workers are still Levelling at a decent pace and their enhanced stomachs are working as well as I’d hoped they would. Not only has their capacity increased, the mutation menu for the organ now has an option that will allow them to consume Biomass as if they were one tier of evolution lower, reducing the penalty!
Arrrghh, that stings! Damn core…
What this means for my class of hatchlings is they’re rapidly piling up Biomass as we advance farther into the Dungeon, seeking higher Level creatures to feed them the experience they need to reach Level ten.
[How’s it going, Crinis? Do you need to rest? I can have Tiny swap in for you any time.]
[That is unnecessary, Master. I am more than sufficient to dispose of this filth. Please allow me to continue.]
[Sure, sure. As long as you’re okay.]
I can almost feel the dark joy emanating from Crinis as she twists and crunches these monsters into a helpless state. You’re walking further and further down a questionable road, Crinis. I’m not sure how I should feel about it.
After another hour of this, I call a halt to our procession and gather the hatchlings before me.
“You’ve done well to keep up with my accelerated learning program, young hatchlings. But the time for you to earn your own supper has come!”
“What do you mean, senior?” they query, antennae wibbling with curiosity.
“I mean, it’s time for the twenty of you to engage in glorious combat for the colony!”
“At last! Before the day is done, my broken body will decorate the trash pile of the colony!”
“I’ve had enough of you! Go stand at the back and think about what you said! Sheesh.”
I shake my head before fixing my gaze on the rest of the workers. “You know the rules. Each and every one of you is to make it back to the colony in one piece. We have invested heavily in you because your future contributions to the colony will be immense. Don’t waste it!”
I fix them all with a sharp glare, especially that moron at the back.
“I want to see if our lessons have been sinking in properly and if you can handle yourselves when my pets and I aren’t here to help you. Have you got what it takes?”
As one, they roar with their squeaky hatchling voices, “Of course, senior!”
“Everyone comes back alive. Don’t forget!”
I can’t help but be worried. Tiny, Crinis and myself will be with them, ready to step in just in case something goes wrong, but protecting the ants from their own sacrificial impulses could be more difficult than protecting them from monsters.
With a flick of an antenna, I gesture for the much smaller hatchlings to move to the front and take the lead. They seem strangely deferential as they pass Crinis, greeting her politely even though she can’t hear them.
[Tiny, make sure to guard our back zone. I don’t want anything to get a jump on us.]
[Hrrrr, bored.]
[Don’t care, buddy.]
[What about me, Master?]
[You’re with me, Crinis. Hop on.]
The writhing mass of tentacles cheerfully retracts until the compacted softball of infinite despair is once again revealed. She takes her customary position on my back and we’re ready to depart. This should be interesting.
The hatchlings are a little hesitant at first. They’re conferring with each other in hushed tones.
“You don’t really need to talk quietly, guys. You don’t actually make any sound,” I tell them.
One of the hatchlings on the outside of the huddle turns to answer me. “We’re operating under the assumption that it’s possible other species capable of pheromonal communication could exist, therefore care should be taken at all times.”
“That’s…” Actually, that’s pretty smart. Huh.
“Who has the best vision?” one of them asks.
“I’m plus six.”
“Plus seven here.”
“You two take point. And who has the highest acid upgrades?”
“I’m plus six, extra damage.”
“Also plus six, restrictive.”
“You two should go up top and keep the line of fire open as much as possible.”
“I have the best carapace here, let me frontline.”
“Good. I think we have our formation. Are we ready?”
“Yes, proceed.”
In almost no time, they arrange their team into a working formation and delegate roles to each member based on their best attributes. Watching them arrange themselves so quickly and begin moving out with such purpose and organisation has got my heart fair pounding in my chest.
In some ways, these hatchlings are more than I had ever hoped they would be.
“I’ve got the best healing though. You should let me throw myself in the enemy’s mouth to take their weapons out of the battle.”
“That could be good.”
“Oi! Shut up, you!” I yell.
Some of them still need a lot of work, it seems.
24. Back from Patrol 1
‘The Civilised Races’ is a term often bandied about casually in scholarship, yet many people remain ignorant of its true meaning and origins. The lines that become drawn between the races are often not so clear cut as ‘these races are civilised, therefore safe, and these are not.’ The so-called ‘Civilised’ are just as prone to greed, violence and short-sighted action as the creatures of the Dungeon at times, as history has proven over and again.
Others simply don’t understand the lines drawn between those races who existed before the Descent of the System, often referred to as ‘The First Born,’ and those who came after, somewhat derogatorily referred to as ‘The New Blood.’
Before the Time of Rending, Mana began to infuse the surface, giving rise to magic and many other wonders. At the same time, that Mana concentrated in certain places and within some things. A process that only accelerated as the Dungeon opened and the surface became flooded with Mana at levels that have never been seen again.
This Mana injection forever changed the surface of Pangera. Not only due to the monsters that devastated its surface, but also by giving rise to new races, such as the Brathian, the aquatic creatures who developed from Lake Bratha after it became flooded with Mana during the Rending when a Dungeon opening connected to the Lake.
The elder races have not always welcomed these newcomers peacefully. When the Dungeon monsters receded, a new wave of conflict began when Old Blood began to mix with New. Eventually, peace was established, and cooperation began. After all, the System does not recognise the ‘Civilised Races’ as monsters, therefore it would be unnatural to fight against each other. At least, that is what the Church of the Path has always preached. Others, such as the Sophos, were not so lucky. Branded as monsters by the System, they were first excluded and then hunted, causing them to conceal their underground settlements and withdraw from contact with those they had fought beside during the Rending.