“TAKE HEART AND PREPARE YOURSELVES, MY PEOPLE! WE ARE PREPARING TO LAUNCH A GREAT CRUSADE INTO THE DUNGEON! WE WILL FIGHT ALONGSIDE THE COLONY AND ENSURE OUR FUTURE TOGETHER WITH OUR OWN HANDS! GATHER TOGETHER ALL WHO ARE WILLING! ONLY TOGETHER CAN WE—”
Beyn’s mind was razor-focused on the audience and his own speech. They were his instrument, and modulations of his powerful voice seized their attention and didn’t let it go. His presence demanded their attention. Similarly, speaking in such a precise, weaponised way was draining on the priest. His focus on the crowd was absolute.
Which is why nobody saw the book flying through the air until it slammed into the side of his head.
WHAM!
Both the audience and Beyn were stunned as he stumbled to the side and fell to the ground. After he gathered his senses, he turned to see Enid storming toward him from the council building.
“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING, YOU IDIOT PRIEST!” she roared when she got her hands on him.
Beyn looked up at her, shocked.
“I’m spreading the word of our miracle and calling the people to action. What else was I supposed to do? We need to help the colony, Enid!”
The mayor leaned down to glare at him from point-blank range, the fire in her eyes burning bright.
“We’re talking about people’s lives, Beyn! They’ll die! Remember that!”
“I am prepared to die for the colony!” he said.
“I don’t care about that—any idiot can die! Are you willing to raise the orphans who will be left behind? Are you willing to do that? Are you willing to bury the dead and speak solace to those who grieve? You should have brought this to the council first. We would have been able to find a way to do this and keep it safe. Now we have no control, you’ve whipped them up into a frenzy. If we’re lucky, they won’t be rushing down into the Dungeon by the end of the day!”
Only then did Beyn realise the folly of his actions. His powerful Skills in oration were a heavy responsibility, his ability to persuade was almost magical. What’s more, he had a responsibility to this community as its priest! He’d been so eager to spread the word of this new miracle, he hadn’t paused to consider the best way to do it.
Frantic, he looked out over the crowd only to see the intense energy he’d generated in them hadn’t decreased, if anything the opposite was true. Men and women were shouting and cheering, hoisting weapons into the sky. Already, some had found nearby Colony members and were kneeling and praying before them in readiness. The euphoria he’d felt only moments ago faded away with the grim reality of the miracle that had been granted to them. Fighting alongside the ants meant dying alongside them. It was something to be celebrated, but also mourned.
But nothing could stop it now. The humans were coming.
107. The Churn
Titus stifled his grimace as he walked from the battlefield. To others who looked at him, he was as stone faced and unshakable as ever, but inside, he was tired. High stats and the superhuman abilities of a powerfully Levelled Legionary were able to sustain him for a long time, longer than almost any other type of soldier on Pangera, but not forever.
A few days ago, by the Legion, only a few days? Yes, just a few days ago, the ants had escalated the conflict, no longer content to delay and cede ground. The rise in intensity required that Titus and his troops match their fervour.
“Are you alright, Commander?”
Titus recognised the voice of his daughter, and her concern. She knew better than most that he hadn’t rested in almost a week.
“Fine,” he replied.
He heard a doubtful snort from behind him and nearly smiled. Morrelia had not learned grace as she aged, much like her mother.
“I didn’t expect that you would need to fight so much yourself, isn’t it a bit overkill for you to show up?” she asked.
Without turning, Titus gestured for his daughter to walk by his side. After a moment, she was there, her hands resting easily on the hilts of her blades. Although she appeared relaxed and confident on the surface, Morrelia’s emotions were far from settled. Battling against the colony was still something she couldn’t bring herself to do, and fortunately, she hadn’t had to up to this point. Even though Titus had entered the fight, even as one of his assigned guards, she simply didn’t have any opportunity to fight, her father destroyed every ant he could reach.
The colony had adapted quickly to his appearance on the field and began to avoid combat the moment they spotted him, something Morrelia was more than grateful for.
“Time is against us in this campaign, daughter. The insects are being careful, trying to force us to expend our strength and waste our time. Every day that passes, our supply lines grow longer, our Legionaries more weary, and for what? Are we even killing the creatures faster than they are replacing themselves?”
The commander’s hand gripped tight around the handle of his axe before he relaxed again. The spirit trapped within raged without end, but he crushed it with his Will after a brief struggle. Whenever he grew frustrated, angry, or tired, the foul beast would attempt to break him. Laughable.
“Unless we gain access to their nest and kill every Queen we find, we won’t be able to make real progress. Once that’s done, we can take our time to hunt down and extinguish every individual.”
Morrelia remained silent, thoughts turbulent.
“It doesn’t bother you at all that they’re sapient?” she asked.
Titus raised a brow. “No.” He placed a hand on the armoured shoulder next to him.
“They are monsters, born from Mana. They are the children of the Dungeon, and it is that which they serve. I’m surprised I would need to explain this to you, of all people.”
The young Legionary beside him didn’t reply immediately and Titus continued on toward his own lines at his usual long stride. Behind him, several squads were in the process of making meticulous checks over the defences the ants had just abandoned. No matter how many times the Legion foiled their traps and ambushes, the blasted bugs never stopped trying. He knew they didn’t even expect them to work, they just wanted to slow down and exhaust his soldiers.
Against other opposition, it would have worked, too.
“I suppose I’m just not used to fighting monsters that can think and feel,” Morrelia sighed, hiding her true feelings within.
He nodded. This was something every delver who achieved the strength to reach the lower strata had to deal with. Though rarely would anyone encounter it in the second strata of all places. Monsters became more intelligent, built societies, traded, and formed relationships.
But it didn’t change what they were, fundamentally. When the Cataclysm occurred, the old Legion records showed these supposedly ‘peaceful’ creatures had rallied behind the Ancients and helped lay waste to the surface. The Legion never forgot and never forgave. For them, the war had never ended.
“Not to worry,” he told her. “You’ll come to see the way of things, in time. Follow in the footsteps of the veterans and you can’t go wrong.”
He didn’t notice the slight sigh his daughter released behind her helmet.
“I suppose so,” she said.
When they returned behind the lines, Titus waved her away as he went to consult with the officers, leaving Morrelia with some precious time to her own thoughts. Though it didn’t last long.
“Hey, Morr!” called Myrrin who approached enthusiastically. “How are you?”
The berserker smiled to see such a friendly face.
“Tired. Where are you getting your energy?”
The archer grinned. “Just got off break. Rested and ready to go! They put five hundred of us back in camp for some shuteye. Seems they want to make a big push before the reinforcements come.”