Her Majesty’s Swarm: Volume 1 E-Book

616th Special Information Battalion

• Herausgeber: J-Novel Club
• Kategorie: Fantasy und Science-Fiction
• Serie: Her Majesty’s Swarm
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2020

Seitenzahl: 283

Beschreibung

Her Majesty’s Swarm: Volume 1

Leseprobe

Table of Contents

Cover

Map

Prologue

Confirming the Situation

Plan B

In the Name of Revenge

Natural Bloodshed

The Elf Village’s Tragedy

The Battle of Leen

Meatballs

The Battle of the Aryl River

Fall of the Kingdom

The Smoldering Flames

Alteration

About J-Novel Club

Copyright

Landmarks

Table of Contents

Prologue

They were an army of the repulsive and the grotesque.

An aggregate of pure malice and bloodlust.

An inescapable nightmare given form.

A symbol of death most gruesome.

They served as an evil omen, heralding the coming of catastrophe.

These agents of memento mori were like the black plague itself; they played out the danse macabre, reveling betwixt the living and the dead.

Their distorted flood would surge up from the cesspool of insanity to wash away villages, cities, and nations altogether.

The name of those that rushed and trampled over all was...

♱

Once upon a time, there was a certain real-time strategy game. It had the commonplace setting of a fantasy world where a multitude of races vied for supremacy. There were a total of twenty-one factions, each split into one of three alignments: good, neutral, and evil.

One good faction, Marianne, gained power through pious faith. A neutral faction, Gregoria, was ruled by dragons since the days of old. An evil faction, Flame, was a savage tribe hell-bent on spreading destruction across the world.

I remembered there being all kinds of races and factions, each with their own unique characteristics. They all had their own distinct units and structures that allowed for unique, entertaining strategies. But among all the factions in the game, there was one I liked most: an evil faction called the Arachnea.

The Arachnea consisted of a race of insects—or rather, its units were more similar to spiders—and its political system was totalitarianism. Its ecological structure was that of a colony built around one queen.

As for its military, the Arachnea formed troops that devoured their enemies, leaving only bones behind. They invaded the other factions indiscriminately, never once engaging in diplomacy. If I felt like being a bit cynical, I could even go so far as to label it fascist. But it was the one faction I found easiest to play, and I gradually came to adore its many units. When it came to online matches, I would always pick the Arachnea with fixed devotion.

Early-game rushes were one viable tactic to achieve victory; lurking behind the faction’s defenses to build up an army big enough to sweep the map was another. Teching into the most expensive units to crush the enemy with punitive force was yet another win condition.

So long as you were able to look past their exterior designs, Arachnea units were relatively balanced and well-rounded. I won countless matches with them, even earning victories in some online tournaments. All my consecutive victories with the Arachnea had earned me a moniker among the other players: “BugSis.” I found it to be a rather cute, charming little nickname and liked it a great deal.

“BugSis is a real Arachnea master.”

“r u cool w/ rl bugs too? i can’t stand spiders :x”

“hey BugSis, I heard there’s a new counter for that macrophage tactic you hate.”

I recalled talking about this and that with my online friends in the in-game chat. Our conversations were always lively, whether we were celebrating a successful new strategy or breaking some record.

But despite playing this game for years, I couldn’t recall its name.

I couldn’t remember.

Why am I...?

Where am I?

My memory is so foggy...

♱

Click... Clack...

An odd sound jolted my consciousness awake.

Click... Clack...

It was a peculiar sound unlike the ticking of a clock. It was more like... the sound of a stapler multiplied several times over. Perhaps it was metal clinking against metal. Whatever it was, the sound was wholly unpleasant. It reverberated near my ears and caused my fight-or-flight response to kick in.

“What the...?”

I looked around, still feeling groggy. Immediately, my breath clogged in my throat. Before my eyes was a gigantic spider much larger than a human being. No... maybe it was an ant? Or a scorpion?

The sight of this indescribable creature made me scramble backward in terror. But my back instantly bumped against the mercilessly cold and hard wall behind it. There was no escape. I glanced around, only to see hundreds more of these quasi-spiders swarming around in the dark space. For the first time, I felt a chill of genuine fear scuttle down my spine.

They’re going to eat me alive, I thought.

“Her Majesty has awakened.”

“Wonderful. Splendid.”

The moment these eldritch abominations spoke, a grand realization came over me. Weren’t these creatures the Arachnea’s soldiers that I’d grown so fond of over the years? Weren’t they... the Swarm?

It was all coming back to me—these arachnids were part of the Swarm, collective troops of the evil Arachnea. The brilliant luster of their black, elegantly curved exoskeletons... Sharp, vicious fangs which struck the fear of death into all who witnessed them... Scythe-like appendages that could slice through anyone and anything... Lethal and effective venomous stingers gracing their carapaces...

This was the very same Swarm I had spent countless hours nurturing with only the computer monitor separating us. The ones standing in front of me had long, sharp scythes that were disproportionate to their bodies and long, narrow legs. These characteristics belonged to the Ripper Swarms, an easy-to-mass-produce type of Swarm used for early-game rushes.

There was no mistaking it. I had used legions of this type of Swarm to smother enemy factions dozens upon dozens of times. No unit could be more nostalgic for me. They even helped secure my win in some tournaments.

If I looked beyond the Ripper Swarms, I could see some Worker Swarms, too. They were the worker units that built new structures, repaired existing ones, and produced siege weapons. I often found myself enchanted with the insectile architecture and design of their constructions. They were grotesque but had a beauty of their own, reminiscent of what you might see in a high-quality horror film.

There were also some Digger Swarms next to them. Their production cost was higher than that of the Ripper Swarms, but in exchange, they were capable of a unique action—burrowing underground and digging their way into the enemy’s base. They were meant for surprise attacks and were fairly difficult to use. Once mastered, however, Digger Swarms would prove to be dependable units capable of felling entire strongholds without the aid of any siege weapons.

How could I have forgotten about these units after having spent so many years using them in the game? No... Why is my memory so hazy to begin with? Where is this, anyway? Why am I here?

“Her Majesty has returned.”

“Glory to the Arachnea.”

I knew it. They really are the Swarm, and this is an Arachnea camp. But what am I doing here? The Arachnea only exist in the game world, and certainly not in reality. Is this some kind of dream? No, everything feels far too vivid and real for it to be a dream.

I reached out to touch one of them. I could feel the smooth sensation of the Swarm’s body. The sound of their clicking fangs echoed in a way that wouldn’t be possible in a dream. This was real. The Swarm in front of me, this cold cave—it was all real. Things I thought only existed in my favorite game were right before my eyes in striking detail.

“Order us, Your Majesty.”

“We desire a leader. A leader to guide us.”

“A queen to lead us to victory.”

“A queen to serve as our core and order us.”

The Swarm spoke up, ignoring my uncertainty. Then they all raised their hands and bowed their heads—the Arachnea’s gesture of obedience. They assumed this pose when a player produced them and when they won a battle. It was the sole friendly emote the Arachnea’s insects were capable of. They wouldn’t show this gesture to anyone else but the player. All others would be greeted with scythe, fang, and stinger as the Swarm tore their enemies to bits without a hint of mercy, only to devour their bodies afterward.

The problem was that I wasn’t a queen at all. Even if they called me their queen, I couldn’t live up to that role. I steeled myself, speaking to the Swarm that had insisted I was their queen, worshipping me in the process.

“I’m not your queen,” I told the Swarm resolutely.

“No. Your Majesty is the queen.”

“Your Majesty is, without a doubt, our queen.”

“Have you forgotten the countless times you have guided us to victory?”

Countless times? I guided them to victory? Do they mean the online matches? They remember me winning those, yet I can’t even remember how I got here?

“Lead our conquest today as well, Your Majesty.”

“Our goddess of war and undefeated queen. O, glory to the Arachnea.”

“Your Majesty, order us. Guide us to victory.”

Each individual Swarm spoke in the same manner. That was because they were moving as an aggregate consciousness that had the queen as its core. All were one, and one was all. The countless Swarms in this place were all moving under what was essentially a shared will, and they had no individual differences.

Several hundred Swarms truly believed me to be the Arachnea queen. What if I were to continue insisting that I wasn’t their queen? Even now, when my consciousness was already beginning to blend in with theirs?

Yes, I could tell my consciousness was linked to the hivemind. I knew what they were thinking. These Swarms truly saw me as their queen and craved victory, despite having no idea what kind of victory that was. They revered me as queen, but I couldn’t fathom any of it. If I did continue to deny it, what would become of me?

“Ahaha... Ahahahaha!”

I couldn’t do anything but laugh. Just what was I expected to do? My psyche wasn’t brittle enough to snap and go mad from this much, so I gathered up my remaining sanity in an attempt to adapt to the situation at hand. As my mind struggled to come to terms with this unbelievable reality, my voice of reason was screaming for me to flee. However, my scant sense of self-preservation warned me to stay put.

Frankly, going mad would have made this so much easier.

But I hadn’t gone mad, and so I had to make a choice. Were I to continue disavowing my position as queen, the Arachnea—which I was no match against—would give up on me and tear me to pieces. But if I acknowledged that I was their queen, I would have to lead these lovely, precious insects.

I didn’t want to die. I wasn’t farsighted or wise enough to come to terms with my own mortality. Well, some part of me felt the desire to give in and accept death, but its echoes were faint and hollow. A far louder voice desperately urged me to live.

On top of all that, I didn’t want to betray the expectations of the Swarm that had battled on my behalf for so many years, albeit in a fictional world. Even if it all took place in a video game, they had fought for me for so long. They were my friends and my most trusted subordinates.

Once I realized this, there was no further need for deliberation. The answer was obvious. There was no other option, no other road for me to tread.

“Very well.” I rose to my feet. With a flourish of my waist-length black hair, I declared, “I will lead you to triumph as your queen. May we be victorious!”

I spoke as grandly as possible, as if to make the whole world aware that I was queen. With this proclamation, I swore my loyalty to the Swarm and promised them victory.

“May we be victorious. All hail Her Majesty!”

“May we be victorious. All hail Her Majesty!”

The Swarm cheered at my words by clicking their jaws in what probably passed as a sort of applause.

What will become of me now that I’ve sworn myself to these grotesque insects? Was my judgment really rational here, or did the influence of the Swarm’s collective unconscious overrun mine and drive me mad?

Maybe it did. Blindly promising the Swarm the conquest they craved when I had no grasp on the situation was an undoubtedly foolish decision. If I had seen another way, I probably would have taken it. And considering what might come next, perhaps I should have desperately sought an alternative.

Nonetheless, I chose not to abandon my insects and instead began to walk the path of the queen. I had no regrets, but I was not confident that my choice wasn’t made out of lunacy.

I asked again: did I go mad? Some aspects of the scene led me to believe I might very well have. My memory was hazy and my grasp on the situation was shaky at best. Evidence that seemed to prove I’d gone insane was popping up one after another. But the way I was then, with my consciousness on the verge of being washed over by the Swarm’s, I couldn’t discern that at all.

I didn’t know anything. Not what this world was, not how I came here, and not how I became the Arachnea’s queen. Still, I was sane. I wanted to believe that. No... I’d merely convinced myself I was, and perhaps I truly was half-mad already. Had I not been at least somewhat mad, I wouldn’t have made the active, unflinching decision to drive this world into calamity at the hands of the monsters before me.

And so, I became the Queen of the Arachnea—a choice that would transform me into the most abhorrent, terrifying butcher of all.

Confirming the Situation

I took a quick look around and found a small piece of paper. I scrawled upon it all I could remember just before the Swarm’s collective consciousness completely washed my memories away.

I was an eighteen-year-old college student, born and raised in Japan. I didn’t have a lot of friends in real life, but I had plenty of them online. I knew most of them from gaming. When it came to video games, I was a chatterbox.

I led quite the sad life, if I do say so myself. What I lacked in reality, I sought after on the internet. Still, I had no regrets, and I couldn’t claim zero attachments to the somewhat empty life I led in Japan.

I will definitely make it out of this world. I promised the Swarm victory, but at the end of the day, I had my own selfish motives. Rather than focus on the goal of achieving some as yet unknown and unknowable victory, I chose to hone in on my desire to find my way back to Japan.

I made no effort to hide it either. The Swarm likely knew this from the collective consciousness that connected us, but they remained silent on the matter. They seemed to tacitly approve of my wish to go back. Or maybe they intended to leave with me and sweep my world with the black currents of the Swarm.

Whichever it was, the Swarm didn’t reject my intent to go back to my own world. I vowed to find a way to leave this world and return home... except I had no idea where to start. But someday, I will surely find it.

Thus, my first order of business was to confirm the situation. Scouting was the first order of business in this kind of game, after all. I needed to get a grasp on the terrain, our enemies’ positions, and the resources I needed to produce more units—that is, more Swarms. I needed to confirm the logistic path to those resources as well as all other pertinent information about this region in order to emerge victorious.

Those were the Four Xs: eXploration, eXpansion, eXploitation, and eXtermination.

I needed resources. I needed a stronghold. And I needed an enemy. But truthfully, I was still hesitant to fight this so-called enemy. Where was I to begin with? The map was too large. I’d never seen these tunnels, and I didn’t recall ever playing a map with tunnels of this size.

I could clearly remember all the maps I’d ever played. In fact, that was an island of perfect clarity in my otherwise hazy sea of memories. There wasn’t a single map I didn’t know, from the single-player maps, to online ones, to unique, user-made maps. On one hand, this could have been some really niche, unknown player-made map, but there was no chance a map this large wouldn’t be highly-rated by other players, so even that seemed unlikely.

To that end, I divided my Ripper Swarms into pairs and sent them out to scout. Their information came directly to me via the hivemind, and I used it to draw a map of the area. If we’re going to win, we’ll have to secure this area, I thought.

A gold mine. Hunting grounds. A densely packed military installation of unknown affiliation. I was fixated on gathering information in the name of the victory I had promised the Swarm and for the sake of going back to my own world.

But honestly, as far as starting positions went, this one was golden. No matter how much you tweaked the difficulty settings, you’d only start with two to three Worker Swarms and a Ripper Swarm if you were lucky. The Arachnea was a faction that overwhelmed the enemy with sheer numbers, so having this many Swarm units so early in the game was usually forbidden to keep things balanced. It was no simple feat to get these numbers right away.

The Marianne’s main resource was faith, which increased with the number of citizens it had and allowed the faction to increase the limit on their number of troops. The Gregoria mined gold, the favorite food of their dragons, to mobilize their forces. The Flame, a fellow evil faction, increased its number of units according to how many sacrifices it made. There was a loophole, though, where the Flame could sacrifice worker units—who didn’t subsist on meat—to increase the sum of its sacrifices.

Usually it was hard to build up a number of units in the early game, but the Flame could do it relatively easily. Its worker units subsided on the most basic foods—fruits and agricultural crops—and could be sacrificed to unlock higher-level units, such as attacker units that were the Flame’s counterpart to the Ripper Swarms. That said, for how easy it was for this faction to produce units, the units themselves were unsurprisingly lacking in strength.

The Arachnea, on the other end, lived on meat. It typically gathered meat from hunting grounds, which were generated as part of the map, in order to increase its unit production. Only Worker Swarms could be produced from gatherable plants, with all other units requiring meat to produce.

The game’s map generation took that into account, of course, and distributed hunting grounds accordingly. There the Worker Swarms hunted deer and rabbits, carried their spoils back to base, and produced even more Swarms that way. But so long as you knew how to do it, it was perfectly possible to gather your initial army units—in this case, the Ripper Swarms—and rush your enemies’ positions before they could set up fortifications.

I had done it several times myself, laying waste to several factions right away. For this method to succeed, you needed to swiftly seize every possible meat resource in the early game, devote them all to producing Ripper Swarms as fast as possible, then rush an enemy base. If the rush was successful, the Swarms obtained as much meat as the units they’d killed, enabling them to produce even more Swarms as a result.

Massacre, devour, and propagate—once this loop begins, the game is all but won.

While it wasn’t impossible, it was certainly a difficult strategy to pull off. Despite that, I already had hundreds of Worker and Ripper Swarms under my command and a number of assorted facilities established from the onset. Whatever difficulty setting had given me this starting setup was an unusual one.

When I viewed the situation like it was the game, it felt as though I had picked up another player’s match after they left. Was there another player at the helm here before I came along? If so, what happened to them? Where are they now? And if the Arachnea existed before I came here, does that mean there are other factions too? While I couldn’t help but wonder, some of these questions weren’t anything for me to worry about. Whether there had been another player before or not, the Swarm had shown their loyalty to me. If any such player existed, they were surely gone from this world already.

The Swarm only accepted one queen. In other words, there was no other player using the Arachnea but me right now—unless, of course, there was another player using the same faction. And if there was anyone like that, they may have had some kind of clue relating to how I could go back home.

Additionally, I’d have to be cautious when it came to interacting with the other factions. I could talk to other humans, which meant there was a chance to broker peace with them, but they’d be wary of me because I used the Arachnea. The Arachnea fundamentally didn’t deal in diplomacy, favoring declarations of war, so they’d likely suspect me right out of the gate. I could see myself being quickly hated by others.

If this had all been an elaborate setup, I would have started laughing out loud, but the Swarm’s collective consciousness in my mind was all too real. I could feel them, experience their senses, and understand their desires.

In other words, victory.

The Swarm didn’t know what that victory meant, and therefore I couldn’t understand it either. But they still yearned for it. Victory. A victory I would lead them to. A victory we could take pride in. Victory and nothing else.

“Your Majesty, your clothes are ready.”

Beyond the state of this world and the nearby terrain, I needed to figure out my own situation. Being eighteen, I was considered an adult by Japanese legal standards. At least, that’s how it should have been, but my body looked somewhat younger now, perhaps fourteen or so. The hooded jacket I wore in place of a housecoat was rather loose on me and tended to slip off my body.

I had no idea why I had become younger or how I had gotten here to begin with, so I did my best to gather my thoughts. What was I doing before I found myself here? I don’t know. The last thing I remember is turning on my PC. My beloved PC is barely capable of running the minimum specs for the game, but there I was, hoping to play a round or two—and then this happened?

I don’t understand. The discrepancies in my memory are concerning too. For some reason, I forgot all about the Swarms, what I was doing before I came here, and even the title of the game. Do I have some sort of sickness of the mind, or is it the influence of this new world I’m in? If it’s the former, everything I’ve been experiencing until now must’ve been a hallucination. But if that were true, wouldn’t I be given some kind of medical treatment?

I may live alone, but I still go to college and I always call my parents on weekends to let them know I’m doing fine. I really don’t get any of this, but I have to keep looking into it. If I can find out how I got here, maybe that’ll be the key to getting back home.

I have no intention of staying in this incomprehensible world forever. Once I’ve led the Arachnea as their queen, I will go back. I may have been a shut-in to some extent, but I still feel that’s where I belong. I have no place in this messed up realm where the Arachnea’s Swarms actually exist.

“Your Majesty?”

“Yes, sorry. I’ll put them on in a second, so just set them over there.”

The Worker Swarm that had brought me some clothes per my request cocked its head as I pointed at my bed. I called it a bed, but it was more of a stone surface with some straw spread over it. You could say I was living quite modestly. I made a mental note to elevate the living standards here eventually.

“Let’s see the clothes you made for me...”

I spread out the clothes the Worker Swarms had made for me, making sure to keep my expectations appropriately low.

“...I can’t wear this.”

However, what I saw was an absolutely gorgeous dress. It was made from a material similar to silk and extravagant enough that it wouldn’t have looked out of place in the Victorian era. It had no visible seams, as if the silk was made in the shape of the dress to begin with. Putting aside a few questionable choices, like the exposed cleavage and open back, it was pretty much perfect.

“I suppose that in terms of life’s necessities, we’ve got the need for clothing covered,” I whispered to myself as I put on the dress. “And I have accommodations, even if they call for some renovation. Now I’ll have to figure out food.”

Food was crucial. Being human, I needed to eat in order to survive, and the Swarms needed food as a resource to produce more units. According to the game’s setting, food was a necessary resource to produce all types of units, unless they were inorganic or draconic units, and as I had already mentioned, the Swarms required meat. Animal meat would do just fine, so long as there was a steady supply. I could do with the leftovers.

“Your Majesty.”

A voice suddenly echoed in my ears.

“Yes?”

“A village has been detected. It is populated. What shall we do?”

The report came from one of the Swarms I had sent out to scout; it was transmitted to me via the collective consciousness. I concentrated on that Swarm’s individual consciousness, which was simple enough. There was a map in mind, the same as the one in the game. I zeroed in on that particular Swarm and projected my energy onto it, which came with the same sensation as clicking on a unit in the game.

Then, a scene surfaced in my mind. I could see a village, and within it about thirty people running around as though in a panic. But something else about them drew my attention.

“Are they... elves?”

The villagers’ ears were pointed and long, making them look strikingly like elves.

Elves were a good alignment race, and their faction was named “Fly Greene.” They were masters of surprise attacks who loved nature and therefore used units that came from the forest, like dryads, for their tactics. There was also a dark elf faction, which was evil-aligned, but these elves had unique blue skin. The elves in this village, however, were just pure, normal elves.

The Fly Greene would appear and disappear in forested terrain, launching surprise attacks that were maddening to handle, but with these numbers, it was perfectly possible to stomp them out. Would I be able to do that now?

I would... and without much difficulty. I had sworn to lead the Swarm to victory, after all. I could use the flesh of any elves that strayed too far from the village to bolster my forces and trample the enemy with overwhelming numbers.

That was assuming such force was necessary, of course. The situation right now was a bit different than what I had imagined. In other words, there were contradictions with what I knew from the game.

“Your Majesty, give us the order to attack. With our numbers, we can easily slay and devour them.”

“Wait. There’s something I want to try.”

There were a couple of things I needed to figure out. First of all, was this really the same world as the game? After all, if I had the major premise wrong, I would likely make major errors in judgment.

Secondly, one wouldn’t usually build a village without making sure to put up defenses; if other players were to notice it, they would attack right away, putting a swift end to it. Yet despite being fairly large, this village had no fortifications whatsoever. There were no soldiers, no defensive structures, no walls. It was completely vulnerable, as if the location had remained in its initial generation state from the start of the game without making any developments at all.

It was like they were begging for us to come and bite their little heads off.

Oh, yikes. Really starting to sound like the Swarm here.

Anyway, no normal players, not even the AI, would build a village without any defenses. Taking that and the unfamiliar map into account, it was quite possible that maybe, as hard as it was to believe, this truly wasn’t part of the cutthroat video game world. It seemed that this really was some other world, and the Arachnea was a foreign presence that had found its way here.

Yes, just like me.

Therefore, I had to confirm whether that was true before planning my next moves. Picking up the skirt of my long dress, I called a single Ripper Swarm over and hopped onto its back. I then summoned a few other Ripper Swarms and hastened toward the elven village.

If this wasn’t the game world, my future plans would be in jeopardy.

♱

“Haa... Haa...”

Labored breaths echoed throughout the forest. They were followed by savage shouts—the voices of male outlaws. Two sets of light, almost inaudible footsteps were being pursued by the heavy stomps of five or six men.

“Lysa, hurry! Hurry! They’re coming!” an elf boy shouted. He was maybe sixteen years old and had a short bow in hand, which he had aimed behind him as he cried out.

“Just leave me behind, Linnet...” said the elven girl, who appeared to be fourteen or so.

“You know I can’t do that! We’re going back together!”

Linnet rushed back to Lysa, who was lagging behind, and pulled her by the hand as he took off again. But one arm simply wasn’t enough.

“There they are! I’ve found the elves!” boomed a hoarse voice from behind them.

A group of human men clad in cheap chain mail pointed in the elves’ direction. With heavy footsteps, the men closed in, some with arrows nocked in their bows and others clutching daggers or axes. One could tell at a glance that they were a band of outlaws. These men were poachers, but not the kind that went after four-footed game—they were slavers.

“Just go! Run, Linnet! You shouldn’t have to be a slave, too!” Lysa pleaded.

“As if! I’m not letting you make slaves out of us!” Linnet fired an arrow toward the men.

“Whoa, there.” A man who looked to be the slavers’ leader hopped back. “This one’s got claws. All right, boys. Kill the elf with the bow, and capture the woman.”

“Roger that, Boss.”

The slave dealers approached with wooden shields, coming for Linnet with smirks on their faces as he desperately shot arrows at them. His arrows merely struck the shields, sticking fast or bouncing off hopelessly.

“Linnet, please, just go!”

“Dammit! If only I were stronger... even just a little bit!” Despair was creeping fast into Linnet’s frustrated shouts.

Lysa began to cry. The slavers were almost within arm’s reach of Linnet, ready to grab him and bash his head in with an ax. Linnet’s fate was all but decided.

But at that moment...

“Aaaarghhh!”

Suddenly, the upper half of the slaver who was about to pounce on Linnet disappeared. Or rather, it was torn off... by the jaws of a giant insect. The creature’s fangs and scythe-like hands dripped with fresh blood, and its hollow compound eyes looked around at the other slavers. It was larger in size than the slavers themselves, and it was chomping down on the severed upper half of the one it had killed.

“What the... What the hell is that?!” The insect’s sudden appearance drove the slavers into a panic.

But the chaos was just beginning.

Six other bugs sprang out of the thicket and began tearing the slavers to pieces. The men didn’t even have the chance to scream. Their throats were slashed open within seconds, and as a froth of saliva and blood bubbled up from their mouths, the insects continued to ravage their bodies. In the chaos, a few drops of blood splattered onto Linnet’s face.

“Help...” One of them barely managed to raise his voice before his head was cleaved in two by an insectile scythe, leaving him only capable of convulsions.

“This can’t be real! I’ve never heard of monsters like this!” the slavers’ leader screamed. “It’s impossible! What are these things?!”

He turned to run, but another insect stood in his way. The monster rhythmically clicked its fangs, as though contemplating whether to rip the man to shreds or eat him alive. There was no trace of emotion in its multitude of hollow eyes.

“Eek! God, help me!” the man screamed, falling to his knees.

In response, the insect before him slowly raised a bloodstained scythe. The moment it swung down, the leader of the slavers would be met with death. He cowered on the ground like a death row inmate awaiting execution, and in this moment, the insect before him gave the striking impression of the grim reaper.

Then, in one swift stroke, he was knocked unconscious.

“Enough.” A girl’s sonorous voice filled the air.

“Are you sure, Your Majesty?”

“Yes. I’ll be needing him later for a little experiment.”

With that, the girl stepped out of the thicket and revealed herself.

“She’s so pretty...”

The girl was beautiful and clad in a dress worthy of royalty. She stood dignified despite the gore-spattered spectacle before her, soiled as it was with the blood and viscera of the slavers. Enchanted, Lysa forgot all about her terror and stared at the newcomer with awe.

“I have something to ask you,” the girl said. “Are you from the nearby village?”

“You know about the... Who are you?!”