Never the kind of creatures to let something go to waste, I know the acid is going to be collected in special holding tanks carved out of the stone deep below the tunnel. The Legion may never have noticed the holes in the stone beneath their feet when they began their ascent to the gate, but they are certainly there. A hundred metres below, the tanks await, from which the acid can be pumped back to the top of the tunnel. An ingenious system that hundreds of carvers spent a week carving out. Sadly, it’ll take hours to refill, so we can only deploy the acid again if we manage to repel this first approach from our enemies.
“How did it go, eldest?”
It’s Ellie, hiding in a chamber on the other side of the wall to my right.
“I think we got their feet wet at the least, but it hasn’t stopped them. On the plus side, they aren’t coming any closer.”
It takes over a minute for the tanks to fully empty themselves, dumping out acid at a shocking pace. As the deafening roar fades, I can finally hear myself think, and more than one ant clicks their mandibles in shock at the ferocious display.
“In other words, they’re right in position?”
“Yep. Think your pets are going to be up to the task?”
“They’ll make you proud, eldest.”
“Let’s see it.”
[Is it possible that I can join them, Master?] Crinis asks.
[No, Crinis. We’ve gone over this. I need you here with me. Let’s watch and see how they do.]
The blob attached to my carapace wiggles in a mix of frustration and happiness as I turn my attention back to the ever-hungering ball of Mana spiralling in power within my mind. The bomb is reaching the critical point of overload and I need to devote all my attention to it. I just can’t help but keep my eyes peeled for the attack of the core shapers.
The moment the Legion becomes visible again behind the haze of acid mist in the air, it’s clear how they were able to survive. Deep gouges have been carved into the ground on either side of their formation. From the ruined appearance of the tunnel floor, it looks as if a combination of magic and sheer physical strength was used to create these gashes, which means they must have directed weapon strikes at the stone to help break it up.
More than that, their soldiers are tightly packed together in a narrow column, shields pressed against each other with their defensive abilities activated. From my position near the gate, they present a layered wall of golden light which patches of acid still cling to, sizzling away.
It might be a pain, but I can’t help but be impressed that they survived. Sorry, Morrelia, but that’s not the only trick we have up our sleeves.
A few seconds is all it takes for the order to slip down the chain, and I witness something most people would rather not see in their lifetimes. The furious acid has burned away a thin coating that once covered the floor to reveal a narrow gap in the tunnel walls, close to the floor. If I weren’t looking for it, there’s almost no chance I could see it at all, it’s so narrow. From that narrow gap on both sides, a darkness wells up and begins to seep out. All the way up and down on both sides of the Legion column, a tide of pure black is massing. From out of the shadows, slowly at first, but quickly gathering speed, extends a forest of tentacles, hundreds, thousands of them, as the darkness moulds itself to reveal its true form.
Centipedes.
125. The Siege, Part 3
The hated foe, the reviled enemy. My hatred of the centipede knows almost no bounds! Long did they torment me in my youth, only for me to turn the tables on them and use the foul creatures as fuel for my own growth. Once the table flipped, I refuseed to allow it to flip back again, no matter how much the Dungeon seems to like the putrid things.
Naturally, my own predisposition against the centipedes was passed onto the colony, which led to an aggressive campaign to delete them from the Dungeon. Wherever the colony has been, war against the many-legs has been waged. Their nests expunged, their spawn points camped until the Mana dissipated and no more of the cursed monsters appeared. It’s safe to say that whilst we ants have left most spawn points alone in order to have monsters to hunt, the centipede no longer exists within our territory. They have been deleted.
As a result of this extensive activity, a tremendous number of centipede cores has flooded into the claws of the core shapers. Interestingly enough, it was found that the centipede core is remarkably mouldable. It’s as if the genetic code of the many-legs is so basic and primitive that the shapers had great success utilising the sophos’ merging technique, fusing the centipede together with other creatures. After experimenting with various forms of the omnipresent shadow beasts, this variant was created.
The centi-sludge!
At least, that’s what I call them. I think Ellie told me their name, but I forget already.
Utilising advanced shadow flesh technology, these centi-sludges are able to mould themselves into a goop-like state in much the same way Crinis does. Similarly, they have the ability to extend a tendril of dark flesh filled with the same potent toxin that filled the centipede stingers. A devious creation that represents the dedication and hard work of the colony core shaper caste, the centi-sludge is a nasty little package on its own, but when multiplied by thousands, can create all sorts of problems.
The Legion doesn’t hold back and displays the rapid response expected from soldiers with such high levels of discipline and training. The moment the tendrils reach for them, a flash of blade light explodes as hundreds of swords and axes strike out, cutting swathes into the slithering pile of centipedes reaching for them. From where I hang on the roof, packing more and more Gravity Mana into my bomb, I can see the light carve into the centipedes, bisecting many of them, but even so, they don’t stop moving.
In truth, these pets have almost no defensive capabilities. The strikes cut straight through them without resistance, splitting hundreds of them apart at a time. But that just doesn’t do the job. The pieces of the monsters that have been cut away return to goop which is then claimed by any of the centi-sludges nearby, incorporating the precious shadow flesh as part of their own body. Unless the core itself is damaged, or the Legion is able to cut away at them fast enough that they don’t get a chance to reform before the flesh is dissolved into the Dungeon, they won’t stop coming!
Gwehehehehe.
Although, to pay for this roach-like level of survivability, not only do the centi-sludges lack in toughness, but their offense is low. The purpose of this tactic is not to defeat the Legion, but rather to wear them down. If some of them get poisoned while we’re at it, all the better!
As the Legion engages with the pets, turning their attention from one crisis to the next, a sortie of ants emerge from the gate. A mixed force of mages and scouts, they rain down-ranged firepower at the leading Legion figures in order to amp up the pressure. The Legion’s shields have formed a wall of light that now flickers and flashes with each new impact as the colony ups their offense, trying to batter through the attackers’ stamina.
We don’t need to win, we only need to hold. Forcing the Legion to go back to their camp and try again another day, that’s a victory.
With a mental command, I send Invidia to join in the barrage, lighting up the tunnel with his detonations. I warn him not to go too hard yet. Our part in this defence is not yet done. I don’t have the spare mental energy to reach out and keep an eye on the ongoing mental warfare taking place in the tunnel, but I wager it’s ramped up another notch. Attacking the mages by putting them under constant pressure to defend their comrades is a lynchpin of our strategy. Even if the individual Legionaries prove to be indefatigable monsters, the minds of the spellcasters can’t be. Even if they have hundreds of super wizards in their ranks, the colony is able to throw literally thousands of ant mages at them until they crack.