None of the lions dared approach Vojtech as he held his spear at the ready. The Golden Huntsman narrowed his focus in towards the archer, one of those tall rats that stood on their hind legs. Nothing of relevance stood between them, and he strode forward confidently. When the creature turned to flee, he would give chase, no longer having to block its arrows.

He felt something on his leg, looking down to regard another one of the beasts. It appeared half dead already, but not from any wounds. Instead, its energy spoke of age and rot as it clawed at his ankles. Obviously such dull things would not be able to pierce through even the outermost layer of the hunter’s armor, so he merely kicked away the thing, sending it crashing through nearby buildings.

Many animals lay in hiding, not worth hunting. Even the lions, fearsome for but a few moments, were now merely roaring from a distance expressing displeasure at their own weakness.

Vojtech continued to parry arrows formed of natural energy with his spear as they came for him. He kept his eyes on his target. The small creature seemed incapable of realizing it should run, though he would have expected better for it having a weapon.

Well, if that was all the creature had it was time to end things so he could get on to hunting bigger prey. Perhaps that hippo that was slaughtering some of their weaker members. He stabbed forward to pierce the strange creature. It didn’t even dodge… but his spear went wide.

Odd. Was the world tilting? Vojtech saw an odd line of red in his vision. When had his left wrist been attacked? Why didn’t it hurt? Why was his left leg not responding as he would like?

His energy defenses protected him against arrows flying for his face, but it was inefficient. He held his spear in one hand and inspected his leg as he thrust. His leg was… what happened to his leg? It was simply covered in fungus… roots burrowing into his leg. Why didn’t he feel anything? Why hadn’t his energy protected him?

Vojtech had many questions, none of which were particularly productive as his spear went off track once more. This time, he noticed a sudden lapse in the energy on his elbow, and found his armor chewed through and tendons damaged as his arm dangled limply.

A lion crashed into his side, followed by two more, toppling him over. The last thing he saw was a particularly large ant.

Author’s note: I know that fungus has mycelium and not roots, but this guy doesn’t.

-----

“Good job everyone!” Three Squeaks said. “Now that we’re done with this guy, we’ll move onto the next!”

It was extremely convenient that they had been able to shout combat strategy in front of this guy. He didn’t speak Akrysian, obviously. Just that ‘universal’ language humans used. Which many of the people of Akrys did understand, which made the enemy calling out their strategies less viable for them. Though most of what Three Squeak had heard were warcries followed by screams of terror.

It’s not like they were that terrifying. Well, maybe Meep. Even cultivator fungus wasn’t supposed to spread that fast. The old meerkat was currently picking himself out of a wall. That kick had been serious, but not enough to take down a proper Assimilation cultivator in a single blow. Meep had been hiding the full extent of his energy, or he wouldn’t have gotten that close.

Three Squeaks had managed to draw many enemies into their fortified capital as intended, but others were spread throughout Akrys as a whole. That wasn’t optimal, but there were people trained for battle everywhere. Frankly, he pitied any of those who had landed in the ocean. It wouldn’t even have to be the deep sea… but if they tried to flee there, they were going to get more than they bargained for.

He sought out his next target. Akrys wasn’t going to let themselves be taken apart by these foolish humans. They were stronger than that. But with the number of enemies, they were looking at quite a bit of damage and losses even in this short time. He shot down weaker targets so they couldn’t set the development of Akrysian society back further.

-----

The Fearsome Menagerie ships were terrible. That was what Crossed Antennae decided. It was fortunate that they more or less remained on course during and after the battle, but even a small amount of damage had really limited the speed.

At least they had plenty of food to eat while they waited to get into a proper system. Not the humans, obviously. That was barbaric. But what they had remaining in their stores was enough for the thousands of void ants to live for years, if it didn’t spoil.

Bullet came back with a report. “We managed to find replacement materials,” he said. “But…”

“But we don’t have any formation masters.” With all of the odd techniques void ants under her command had picked up, formation master was not one of them. At best, they had those that were competent at dismantling them in elegant fashions instead of simply chewing through the energy. “We’ll have to wait then. I hate to say it, but our job may be finished already.”

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

All that waiting… for this. She just wished she could get in contact with the others, to learn of their success- or failure. But the communications devices viable for void ants were limited to begin with, even before they had to consider infiltration.

“Begin cataloging the food. And prepare to remove the bodies, leaving all of their gear on deck. We don’t want the decay,” she said. “But our compatriots might like the rest. Though I dare say we can chew on whatever we like to absorb the energy within, as this is our prize.”

She hoped those watching the Tides would find an opportunity to retrieve them soon after arrival. The plan was for them to watch for dead ships, after all. Hopefully they didn’t end up enmeshed in combat… though there shouldn’t have been anyone out ahead in this particular batch.

Crossed Antennae didn’t know quite what happened with the rest of the fleet. Some of the ships were destroyed, and some others had pulled ahead. So partial successes and failures, it looked like. But there were many more that had departed from other planets. She could only trust in the preparations they had made. Soon, the void ants’ role in this stage would be over, and the lower realms would deal with what was left. Hopefully, not too much.

-----

Word came in from various places over the course of the next week. The attack began and ended on Akrys in short order, as they were clearly not prepared to find what they did. Anton was quite pleased with that result, but they had never expected a strong assault on Akrys. There hadn’t been an occupation there.

Any reports from the Shining cooperative were still forthcoming, as they were more distant. Ultimately, the Lower Realms Alliance had no other planets embroiled in battle yet- though Nidec and Vrelt should be dealing with their assaults soon. News was that the incoming fleets were diminished, however. That was true in many places, based on what could be sensed through the Tides.

As for the fleet approaching Ekict, Anton couldn’t pick out anything. That didn’t mean the void ants were entirely unsuccessful, but a majority of the enemy ships were still functional. Perhaps they had failed to board. But they might have also been spotted early, and it wasn’t impossible to neutralize the void ants. They had been exterminated in the upper realms, after all. Clearly there were methods.

News from Ceretos and neighboring systems also indicated the fleets heading in their direction maintained most of their strength. They were among the stronger fleets in general, and while they had tried to balance the development of void ants to match, any number of things could have gone wrong. Hopefully, it was one where void ants lived. Anton didn’t want them to be treated as sacrificial pawns, even if they were in general willing to do so.

They’d never expected utter annihilation of enemy fleets. So they could only wait for the next step. Along with Nidec and Vrelt, the somewhat more distant Turilia which had once housed the Numerological Compact should be reached at a similar time according to the initial reports. In’istra as well, though the more distant systems only had initial assessments coming in due to their distance. Anton didn’t expect to hear from In’istra until everything was over… though he would actually be able to feel when the fleet got there. He did have a bound star there, after all. The same with Turilia. The only question was whether he could afford to intercede and risk tiring himself before the incoming fleet reached Ekict.

-----

Devon observed the sprawling arrangement of defenders around him. The Shattered Chains had been formed in these systems, and while their recruitment after the initial freedom had been low, that didn’t matter. They still had the original members, both those who were integrated with hiveminds and those who were not.

Speaking of which, the various hiveminds had a grand fleet of ships, using modified techniques that didn’t forcibly take the energy from their cultivators. They were technically less energy efficient, but the hivemind would not accept the unwilling draw on their strength regardless of their knowledge that they could be freed and that people like them were in control. That weakness was made up for by each individual cultivator being able to grow stronger than before, and again by the unity of the hivemind. There was simply a certain level they would not stretch to for power.

Devon could also feel Byron- the first of the Confluence cultivators before the Numerological Compact had captured him and twisted his cultivation style. The man had his own ship, replete with thousands of other cultivators. Normally, such a packing of individuals in a ship was risky, as they wouldn’t effectively fight together.

However, in this case it was quite conservative number. The Compact’s Magnitude IV ships had carried tens of thousands of cultivators, and Byron was capable of channeling the energy of that many. In this case, however, he had a selection of elite cultivators developed over the last centuries.

The last of those with them, at least that Devon considered notable, was Aerona. That might have been a bit of personal bias, but she was an Assimilation cultivator now. Unsurprisingly, she had chosen a social aspect. Much like Vincent of the One Hundred Stars, though not through connections to a particular sect. Instead, she had sewn seeds wherever she went, distributed through many far flung planets.

Aerona was still far weaker than Devon, but so was practically everyone else. Even the conglomerate ships full of thousands working together would have issues fighting him. An Assimilation cultivation still put Aerona in the top echelons of power… and more relevantly in Devon’s opinion helped extend her lifespan. He did rather enjoy having his wife around, after all.

“Are you nervous?” she asked him.

He grinned. “I feel like I should be asking you that. But I can say… the forces here won’t let any army prevail over them. Worst case scenario is that we all die. And if so, we’ll take down as many as we can with us.”

That wasn’t just a bit of morbid humor. Devon truly believed that death was better than certain alternatives. So would all of the Shattered Chains, and most likely the majority of the hivemind cultivators. The rest would have heard the stories, but not everyone would have experienced any form of slavery since they would have been born after that time. Though the hivemind cultivators could share some experiences with each other, it seemed they tried to steer away from particularly traumatic ones. At least in any sort of detail. Better not to have the full experience.

So death would be better. But best would be death to their enemies.