What was an endless war of mindless savagery in miniature on Earth has been recreated here in supersized fashion as thousands of insects the size of cars slam into each other, attempting to tear limbs and sever heads. It’s horrific, but I’ve no time to take it all in, all I can do is destroy the enemy, then find the next one. If I keep doing it fast enough, eventually we’ll win.
Despite the danger, I run up alongside Sarah, and with her help, drive deeper into the termite horde, relying on the broad swipes of her claws to keep me from being overwhelmed. Although not much time has passed since their grand charge, Leeroy and the Immortals have changed the landscape of the battle for the better. Yet, they have already been left on their own for too long.
I’m not even really that concerned that the termites will have killed them—those idiots are too dumb to die. No, I’m worried they’ll be pulling some shenanigans in a foolish attempt to achieve their long-cherished dream of gloriously sacrificing themselves for the good of the Colony. I will prevent it from happening at all costs! You’ll live forever, Leeroy, my stupid sister. Forever, dammit!
DOOM CHOMP COMBO!
My mandibles snap back and forth rapidly, the dark jaws of pure energy slamming shut with tremendous force on everything in front of me again and again. My energy drains dramatically, but the forward space clears, and I push into it to find a circle of shining metal-clad figures battling fiercely despite being surrounded.
“Tch. The Eldest is here,” someone complains.
“I knew it!” I bellow at them. “Glorious last stand, my business district! Every one of you idiots is getting out of here alive. Got it!”
“…Fine.”
CRASH!
A massive detonation of electrical energy briefly whites out my vision, and when it returns, I find Tiny standing next to me with a broad grin and a fierce light of joy in his eyes.
[Don’t have too much fun,] I warn him. [We need this over with sooner rather than later.]
My first friend in the Dungeon gives me a quick thumbs up before he engages in the fight once more, his fists blurring as he snaps out punches faster than I can see.
“Well, that’s just great,” another Immortal complains.
“Shut up or I’ll bring Invidia and Crinis over here just to make certain that nothing happens to you!” I snap at them.
These morons!
“Now fight, or I’ll personally make sure you never see combat again!”
That lights the fire in them, and they redouble their efforts to fight off the termites. Every few minutes, one of them collapses, either from exhaustion or their wounds, I don’t know, but it matters not, bright light explodes from the downed figures, and soon enough, they are standing again, back in the fight.
My face is aching and my brains are tired, yet still the fight goes on until finally, it’s over. I chomp my mandibles shut and blast the monster before me with a spear of ice, only to find nothing standing behind it when it collapses.
“The termites are retreating!” Leeroy sounds partly happy, partly sad.
It’s true. Their shadows are still vanishing down the tunnels, heading back to their nest, leaving us in possession of the field and more Biomass than I can poke a stick at.
“I suppose we should get Vibrant to tail them, at least for a little while.”
“YOU-GOT-IT-SENIOR-BYEEEEEEE!”
“Be careful! They’ll be back soon! Vibrant?! Dammit.”
86. Clean Up
There was a time when some considered the Mother Tree to perhaps be an offshoot of Lerrewyn, the Grasping Tree itself. The only plant-type Ancient, Lerrewyn is a creature of immense power and age who tormented the swamplands of the west during the Rending.
There aren’t any precise descriptions of her that survive that I can determine. In fact, what accounts I do have are almost contradictory in nature. Some describe it as a ghostly tree of nightmare, a spirit that extends its roots into the dreams of its victims, draining their life force away as they sleep. Others describe it as less a tree and more a mass of innumerable roots, each as thick as a man, that crawls across the landscape, pulling in and devouring everything that it finds.
Despite the obvious similarities of the two monsters, sharing the same base type, there is no other supporting evidence to suggest they are affiliated in any way. Indeed, the path and direction the Mother Tree has taken is the greatest proof anyone could ask for. In choosing to create and succour her own race of children, she has effectively cut herself off from descending any farther into the Dungeon, ensuring that she is of no use to those elder monsters. Despite this, should she turn, the damage she could unleash on Pangera would be immense.
After Vibrant are her crew sprint off down the tunnels, the rest of us are left with the unenviable task of cleaning up the mess. And what a mess. I’m standing on a heap of Biomass three or four termites deep, and it sure isn’t going to eat itself. What’s more, when I throw on my mana sight, it becomes clear that quite a few of these termites have cores. Now, they aren’t anything like fully developed cores, not even close. In fact, they don’t come close to the cores my siblings in the Colony have, despite most being a long way from maxed.
Scanning the battlefield, I would guess that roughly half of the termites have cores, which explains why, despite their relatively high tier, they are close to matching up to us one-on-one. No, it seems that the ka’armodo have decided to embrace the swarm strategy at its most pure. Not a bad idea, since they have the natural advantage of being born deeper in the Dungeon. With more advanced body parts than we have, they don’t need strong evolutions to be dangerous. Is it also possible their soul-devouring organ provides the extra juice they need, giving them experience or empowering their evolution in some way? It bears more investigation.
“Report back to the wall! We need a casualty check and debrief! Move! Move! Move!”
Man… I can remember the good ol’ days when we just tucked straight into the food. Things are a bit more organised now, what with the accounting the generals do to keep track of the wounded and make sure the post-battle scene doesn’t degenerate into chaos.
“Better get moving, Eldest. I know you’re fine, but there’s probably others I need to see to,” the healer strapped to the underside of my carapace tells me.
“Oh, right. Of course.”
I file back into line along with the others, and we climb back to the top of the wall, where the generals check over every single member of the ten-thousand-strong expeditionary force and lay out the plan to clear the battlefield so the work crews can get back to the more important task of fortifying our position. It’s impossible to walk away from this sort of conflict with no casualties, and every loss stings my spirit, but the numbers are remarkably low considering how many we defeated.
We were lucky this time. The termites, and by extension, the ka’armodo, were stupid. They threw numbers at the problem, hoping it would go away—a sign of impatience or overconfidence. If they’d taken the time to prepare a diversionary tunnel, or strike in more than one place, or any number of tactics they didn’t try, we would have been in a much more difficult position. As it is, we held them up with not even a tenth of the earthworks completed, let alone the full fortification project.