Determined and alight with the pride of all ant-kind, I kick sharply off the ground and latch onto the tree with all of my claws, gripping for all I’m worth. Come on, Enhanced Grip! Do me proud!
The tree isn’t having it. My claws slide and lock up, but I refuse to give in. Grip, Grip, Grip!
Like a barehanded climber with six legs, I force my claws to bite deep into the trunk and grasp hold before hauling the rest of my body up. Good thing I’m not that heavy for a monster relative to my Might stat. Even so, it takes all my strength to pull my body up, and by the time I reach the top I’m a heaving, gasping mess.
[Are you all right, Master?] Crinis asks from my back.
Ah. This deceptively heavy ball of unending hunger was on me. I forgot.
Still! That tree is resistant to climbing to a ridiculous degree. That was insane. I can walk upside down on wet rocks no problem, but climbing this stupid thing was nearly impossible.
Shaking myself, I push my legs back under me and look about. I’ve reached the lowest of the branches that reach out across the marsh. In front of me are thick leaves, each one larger than I am, and small shapes creeping over them.
All right then, what are these things?
Bracing myself by gripping tight and moving slow, I begin to creep out along the length of the branch toward its end. As I draw closer to the oversized leaves, the creatures creeping about on them become clearer.
Small, soft looking green shells, round chubby looking body, and thin, stick-like legs.
Something deep within my ant brain sparks as if struck by lightning.
Are those… APHIDS?
Excitement builds in my belly.
Many people on Earth don’t realise it, but some species of ants are farmers, and have used farming to produce their food for hundreds of thousands of years. Leafcutter ants harvest leaves, not because they eat the leaves, but because they use the leaves to grow a species of mould deep within their nests that they eat. Herder ants, among other kinds, perform a different type of farming. They keep aphids. The aphids feast on the leaves of trees and plants, and when approached by the ant, offer up a sugary liquid produced in their business district which the ants eat. In return, the ants protect the aphids and shelter them from harm. Even picking them up and moving them to the best positions on the plant.
Looking at these little monstrous aphids, each one the size of a school bag creeping about, I begin to wonder about the possibilities that might present themselves. Ants and aphids have a long history of cooperative coexistence.
In the deep recesses of my brain, a farming scheme is taking shape.
Eagerly, I advance down the branch and step out onto the broad leaf on which one of the little green fuzzy insects is feeding. The leaf takes my weight, and I gradually approach the little bug. As I draw close, the creature freezes and huddles flat on the surface of the leaf.
As I stand over it, the creature’s shivering begins to ease off when I don’t attack it. Gradually, slowly, the little aphid excretes a thick, gel-like fluid from its back.
My antennae twitch at the scent.
Biomass!
My eyes gleam with avarice.
110. New Growth
Beyn was a priest and he was proud of that class. He’d worked hard in the seminary, his faith blazing with an admirable glow, such that he earned promotion and placement into a small village at a young age.
He often thought back on his time at the college, within the Path Sanctuary in Luxon, a mighty citadel filled with learning, preaching and the contemplation of the Path. He’d been happy there, tearing through scripts and sitting at the knee of his teachers, absorbing their wisdom. He delighted in his deepening knowledge of the System and the way in which it improved the lives of all peoples.
Respect was due to the System, reverence also! It was omniscient, it was omnipresent, and it saved all of the civilised peoples of the world from certain destruction. It had shown them the Path to salvation!
That is what Beyn firmly believed his entire life.
Looking around the dusty people surrounding him now, it was hard to comprehend just how he’d come to be here.
Such wondrous happenings, such revelatory events, they defied understanding, let alone explanation. If he were to take his lessons, relate his experiences to his old teachers, there wasn’t a single doubt in his mind that he would be turned over to the Seekers for questioning. Perhaps he would even be purged. Yet, he could not deny the evidence of his eyes, nor the wellspring of hope that erupted in his heart.
He’d paid for his newfound belief with an arm, but it had been so worth it.
The evidence was all around him. The System chose to present its aid, its benevolence, through an entirely unexpected medium. Monsters! Ants from the Dungeon. It seemed preposterous. Though wasn’t it said, “The ways of the System are unknowable by mortal mind”?
Truly none would have expected this turn of events.
“Priest Beyn,” he was greeted by a passerby.
“Good morning. May the Path be clear before you and our saviours clack their mandibles with blessing upon you.”
The person smiled and nodded, their eyes flicking in the direction of the colony’s great mound, barely visible now from this place, before moving on. Indeed, the ants had done so much for these people. Beyn intended to be sure they were properly grateful. The monsters infesting the nearby woods had been nearly eradicated by the tireless workers, wood had been provided that was now being made into houses, fencing and other such structures. Crude farms were being erected in order to secure a food supply for the near future, and as more people came south, fleeing the violence continuing to ravage the surface, so too did the needs of the community grow.
He moved amongst the burgeoning village, smiling, giving blessings to those who approached him. An encouraging word here, a smile or a nod there, a hug and compassionate prayer for those in distress. Beyn moved amongst his people and did his utmost to buoy their spirits so they might take advantage of this wondrous blessing that had befallen them.
A sanctuary in such troubled times, protection, given by the System itself in the form of their ant guardians.
Suddenly inspired, Beyn stopped and raised his one hand to the sky and began to speak, his Expert Preaching Level nine causing his voice to soar over the din of the village.
“Let us give thanks, O travellers! O weary folk of a fallen kingdom!”
The refugees were accustomed to his frequent outbursts of preaching. They were not surprised to hear his sudden oration. Compelled by his powerful voice, they turned to listen as they had many times before.
“We have suffered much. The pain of loss, the heartache of our destroyed homes. Monsters have risen to the surface in a way that hasn’t been seen for thousands of years!”
A ripple passed through the people at his words and the crowd began to coalesce around the crippled priest. Monsters pouring out of the Dungeon was the stuff of nightmares, a forgotten legend they’d witnessed with their own eyes.
“And yet, the Path is never straight, the Path is never clear before our feet. It is not for us to decide the way, but for the System! We have been delivered from monsters, by monsters! Our insect saviours, led by the Great One, have defended us, provided for us and granted us sanctuary in these times of fear and death.”
As an expert level Preacher, Beyn was able to read the mood of the crowd, sense the ebb and flow of emotion as his words were absorbed. These people were grateful. These people were awed. More importantly, these people believed.
There was a veneration in their eyes when he spoke of the Great One. They’d seen it for themselves. The creature had come right to the village, standing so unnaturally still, and communed with one of them.