I mean, seems lively over there at least. Just, what the heck is going on?
Then the doors are pulled open and a group of villagers emerge from within carrying something between them.
The men approach the bonfire as the people fall silent and fall back out of their way. With a mighty heave they throw their burden onto the leaping flames and the crowd roars in approval as the fire flickers.
I’m pretty sure that was a monster corpse.
It’s nice that the village is safe and they’re able to take care of themselves, but they seem a little too into it? Perhaps this is just a very civically minded town.
Being able to defend themselves for now is nice and all, but my worry is that these people will end up taking on something they can’t handle. If a Jellymaw crawled out of that hole, would these townspeople and farmers be able to handle it? Shouldn’t there be some soldiery looking types here by now? Dedication is all well and good, but do they really think a rusty pitchfork is going to do the job against the real Dungeon monsters?
Scanning the faces of the people, they all look determined and passionate. Seems they’re all in fending off the Dungeon monsters, which is fine, I guess?
Toward the back is an older lady who doesn’t look quite as pumped up as the rest. If I were to try and describe her expression, I’d have to say ‘concerned’ or ‘worried.’ Her hands are tightly gripping her skirts while she stares down at the frenzied crowd.
Perhaps she shares my concern that the townspeople may be getting a little ahead of themselves.
Perhaps she isn’t a bonfire person.
At any rate, approaching a frenzied mob any closer than this doesn’t seem advisable. Time to retreat.
Just as I’m turning to leave, I notice my head is feeling a bit breezy. Did someone open a window or something? Have I gone bald? I’m fairly certain I never had hair in the first place.
Wait.
Where is the little one!
Using my antennae, I slap my head and back before turning to scout through the surrounding wheat. Where the heck did that little scoundrel go?
Panic rises in my chest. That is a promising young ant! Where the heck is she?
The core! She has a core! Quick as a flash, I flip on my Mana Sense and reach out with my mind, desperately seeking that tiny Mana source. There it is! Threading its way between the wheat stalks is the little gem.
The problem is that it’s heading directly toward that roaring flame!
What are you, a moth?
You do not need to run toward any flame you see! Like a gazelle loose in the fields, I spring after my curious sibling, all thought of minimising noise lost.
Even if they spot me, I can get away, but she’ll be squashed for sure.
She’s managed to creep within just ten metres of the people near the back of the crowd. My heart is thudding. If they spot her, there could be serious trouble here tonight. It’s one thing if they try and bash my head in, the little one is a different story, they’ll easily cave her head in!
And if that happened… I honestly don’t know what I’d do.
Come back here, you little trouble maker!
I keep flicking my Mana Sense on and off so I can track the back-and-forth movements of the mischievous little ant. When I finally draw close enough, after what feels like years, I dive, six legs extended behind me and mandibles wide.
GOT YA!
As gently as I can, I snatch up the escaped worker in my mandibles, a situation she protests by wiggling fiercely.
“Stay still, you trouble maker! They’ll kill you if they find you!”
Fortunately, I can shout as I much as I want in Pheromone Language and not make a sound.
I quickly glance about.
Hopefully we weren’t noticed?
18. Flee From Fire
I’m almost so close to the back of the crowd I could poke a person with my antennae. Please don’t let them hear me!
The little worker is still struggling in my mandibles, trying to free herself and investigate the fire. What the heck are you so interested in? Is it the Biomass? Are you just upset they’re burning the monster bodies and not eating that sweet, sweet Biomass?
I don’t think they can eat that, kid! Different people have different cultures, ok?
“Stop your wiggling! I’ll feed you when we get back to the colony, all right?”
Upon hearing I’m prepared to feed it, the worker stops her escape attempts, and my panic subsides a little. She happily clacks her mandibles, making an audible clack sound, and now my panic skyrockets!
At first there’s no response, but then a middle-aged gentleman in the middle of the crowd turns around, a frown creasing his forehead. His face goes completely white as he’s met by the sight of a giant ant lying flat on its belly with another, smaller ant in its mandibles only a few metres from his back.
Uh… Hi!
I try waving to him with an antenna, but he flinches back from the movement, his mouth opening and closing in soundless panic. He reaches with shaking hands to tug on the clothes of the people around him. They turn, irritated at first, but when they see his expression and follow his trembling finger, they behold—my glorious backside as I’ve already begun to flee!
Time to motor out of here.
Angry shouts ring out behind me, followed by the soaring voice of the priest before the pounding of feet alert me to the movement of the people. Turning my head slightly, the crowd has recovered from their early shock and have started giving chase, crude farming tools and rusty swords held at the ready!
Holy smokes, Gandalf! These people are a little too into their monster killing.
As I sprint through the fields with a horde of shouting humans behind me, the little worker is happily clicking and clacking her mandibles, thoroughly enjoying the ride. I’m speechless at her lack of awareness. Just whose fault do you think this situation is?
Illuminated by burning torches, the crowd looks like an angry horde summoned from the depths of hell. Their raging eyes have become devoid of fear as they rush along in my wake.
Daaaaaamn-it!
I don’t particularly want to kill my way through an entire village, but at the same time I don’t want to lead them to the colony. Think, Anthony!
I may just have to give them a taste of my magical prowess.
Working quickly, I try to shape a Gravity Spear. Being so distracted, I naturally lose a little speed as I stumble here and there, and the crowd begins to gain on me. Its ok, don’t fail the construction!
My practice has helped me become more familiar with the shape of the spell, like a tune I’ve rehearsed more often. I still need to do a heap of practice before I can ‘play’ it with total ease, but I can do it a heck of lot better than I could the first time.
After ten seconds of frantic mental work, I’ve prepared the spell and start pouring in the gravitational energy to charge it. In my haste, I don’t properly control the flow of energy and pour in a ton too much, overcharging the spell.
Gah! I don’t have time to make another one, just fire it!
Turning my head, I pick out my target, the first gentlemen to notice me, no longer terrified but maniacally shouting as he leads the charge, what looks like a woodcutter’s axe in his hand.
Sorry, bud, you drew the short straw today!
With a concerted thought, I fire off my Gravity Spear. The intricate dark purple construction streaks through the air like an arrow, piercing the man directly in the chest.