“Do we have any generals around here?”
One of the ants raises an antenna in response to my question.
“Yes, eldest. I’m Emilia, one of Vibrant’s generals.”
This is the ant I saw on the way here, running along at Vibrant’s heels.
“Emilia? She named you?”
“She’s named most of us, eldest.”
The general sounds proud of that, which is fine. I never claimed to have some divine right to name all ants, it’s just curious that Vibrant would take it on herself to hand out names. Makes me wonder why she did. Just because I did? Seems unlikely. Perhaps now that the ants know about the concept of names, they’re beginning to grow fond of the idea? I’d like that, if it’s true. I mean, technically we’d all have the same last name, being descended from the same individual. And it appears we may have finally reached the stage where the word ‘ant’ doesn’t have to feature in every name.
“Alright then, Emilia. I think we should mix up the strategy for our next outing. Mages in every group, light up the area to reduce sneak attack opportunities, scouts with eyes on the sky. Keep the groups close together in case the flames attract too much attention. If they do, we can shut off the fire and work on clearing out the mess. Also, do we have any core shapers in this group?”
Emilia looks at me a little confused.
“We do, eldest. But why are you telling me this?”
“So, we can… so we can do the things I’ve suggested?”
“We follow Vibrant.”
Oh really? Interesting! They are in fact loyal to Vibrant in such a direct way that they won’t do what I tell them, just because I tell them to? That’s neat! Far from being frustrated or mad about it, I’m somewhat happy. Finally, some people who won’t just do everything I say! Having everyone following my instructions is beyond weird, given my previous life. As a human, I don’t think anyone did what I suggested even once…
At any rate, this situation is an easy enough fix.
“Hey, Vibrant, should Emilia do what I said?”
“Will you let me up?”
“Sure.”
“Do it, Emmy!”
[Tiny, let her up.]
[Haaah.]
The big ape almost seems a little disappointed at having to relinquish his comfortable seat. Freed from the rather burdensome weight the gorilla posed, Vibrant springs to her feet and dashes around in a blistering circle.
“Ahhh! I need to move my legs! All six are cramping!”
“Vibrant!”
“Yep-yep!” she cheerfully replies without stopping her sprint.
“Sit down and let the healers finish checking you or I’ll get Crinis to hold you down this time!”
“Crin-Crin wouldn’t do that!”
“Wanna bet?”
“What’s a bet?”
“SIT!” I flood the area with a roar of pheromones which are apparently just persuasive enough to make Vibrant stop running. “Now, what did you think of my idea?”
“Hmm? Ah! I thought it sounded good! We’re best suited for high-speed fighting, though, so I think we should make sure every group keeps moving! I can stay in the middle and help out where needed. I can be there in a flash!”
“That’s… actually a good idea.”
Vibrant and her squad are just as she said, specialised in moving, hit and run style fights. After joining her squad, most of the members have taken at least one mutation to enhance their speed and trained their Dashing Skills relentlessly. When her generals evolved to tier four, they unanimously chose a speed or agility aura power to supplement their existing combat aura. The result is an incredibly mobile force that does its best work on the run.
“Alright then, Vibrant, we’ll do it as you’ve suggested, how does that sound, Emilia?”
The tier four general salutes with one antenna toward Vibrant and then me.
“I’ll see it done!”
She scuttles off to arrange things with the other generals of the group, and before long, teams are reforged and more detailed movement plans are being discussed. I only have one more thing I need to organise before I’m ready to go.
“Protectant, make sure you and your team secure experience and Biomass during this outing. I want a full report when we’re done.”
“…Understood.”
The message is barely a whisper against my antennae, and the ant herself refuses to step out of hiding, but it appears I’ve gotten my point across. There is a metric boatload of spiders in this Expanse, so there should be enough experience for all of us! In fact, the numbers make me curious if all these eight-legged beasties are spawned, or if a giant spider-momma exists and has taken over the place.
The truly giant, kilometres-high web suggests that a big ol’ spider is living in here somewhere. If she’s laying eggs, then a ridiculous population of young would make perfect sense. Perhaps if I eat a few and some profiles I might get an answer to that question.
Although spiders don’t produce at quite the same prodigious rate as ants, they can lay up to a thousand eggs in a single clutch, depending on the species. That’s a pittance compared to, say, army ant Queens, who lay around three hundred thousand per day, but spiders are usually more capable on their own than a single ant. Heck, army ants are pretty much blind, and the workers are tiny. Not that it matters with those sorts of numbers.
Imagine if my colony was producing three hundred thousand new hatchlings every day… Yeesh. It’d get out of control pretty darn fast.
49. Attack on the Eight-legged
Our second outing is less experimental and far better planned than the first. Ants spread throughout the surrounding terrain in a spiral pattern, mages burning bright flames that illuminate the area and chase the shadows back, exposing the creeping spiders that seek to approach from the dark.
Just as it did when I was fishing for monsters with Tiny and Crinis, the hated light brings down more creatures who seek to extinguish the painful spark. Before long, the surrounding area is filled with hissing and spitting. From all directions, the arachnids advance, their eight claws click-clacking.
Without the benefit of striking from the shadows, the ants see the eight-legged monsters coming and respond like the well-disciplined troops they are. Barrages of acid and magic wound the enemy from range, slowing them enough that nimble scouts and soldiers can easily duck in and out, biting and tearing with their mandibles before darting away.
Always fighting, always moving, that’s the way Vibrant likes to do battle.
My pets and I stay on the ground, striking out from the main group. Every now and again, I flare a bright blast of fire into the air in an attempt to draw away a portion of the monsters descending on the ants and into our own monster blending apparatus. Crinis has detached herself from my back, for once, and joined the others on the front lines to help deal with the onrushing horde of skittering beasts. The spiders and scorpions come in all shapes and sizes, some of them clearly tier one, but strangely, many more are higher. I suppose the weaker are either killed off quickly or ascend once we get this deep.
[Invidia! Scorpions on the left!]
[I ssssee them alllll!]
A barrier snaps into being just as the damn pinchy beasts unleash another salvo of their spines. The projectiles hurtle through the air with incredible force, whistling as they pierce the space between us. They crunch into the demon’s barrier with a sound like fracturing glass, and I’m genuinely not sure if it’s the barrier or the spines that have broken. Those things hit hard. Not hard enough to break through my splendid carapace, of course, but hard enough that the impacts sent a shudder through my body.