After some time spent carefully patching up my golems, examining each crack and repairing every damaged piece, I let out a weary breath.

The battle had taken its toll, not only on my allies but also on my own sense of certainty.

Krothe's voice broke the silence, snapping me back to the present.

“What should we do now?” he asked, his tone laced with concern.

I glanced at the moles, particularly their leader, who still bore a look of cautious resolve despite his fatigue.

An idea flickered to life—a risky one, but it might just be the advantage we needed.

I turned to the mole leader. “Do you remember where the blue ants’ territory lies?”

His eyes shifted as he thought, then, with a heavy sigh, he shook his head.

“Kraa…”

The sound was almost mournful.

They had lost so much of their home already, displaced by the relentless red swarm.

The blue ants, perhaps, were just as lost to them as we were to this forest.

Krothe’s feathers ruffled.

“Are you thinking about asking for their cooperation?” he asked, his gaze thoughtful.

“Yes.” I nodded.

“The blue ants might see the red swarm as much of a threat as we do. If we can find them, maybe we can convince them to join forces, at least for now.”

Krothe’s wings twitched as he considered the idea.

“Kaw! I saw a few blue ants on my way back, actually.”

I whipped my head toward him, hope igniting. “What? Where?”

“Over at the north end of the forest,” he said.

“But…” He hesitated, eyes darting to the forest depths, “we’d need to cross a lot of red ant territory to reach that place.”

I took a deep breath, thinking of the risks and the potential reward.

“If it’s our only chance, we have to try.” I turned to the rest of the group, steeling myself. “Alright, Krothe. Lead us.”

With a sharp nod, Krothe took flight, circling back to perch on a golem’s shoulder for a better vantage point.

He lifted a wing, pointing northward.

“This way. And try to keep quiet.”

The moles huddled close, staying low to the ground.

The golems, towering and heavy, couldn’t help but crack twigs and crunch leaves beneath their weight.

Each step felt like a shout in this forest that was practically alive with red ants.

Several times, we were forced to halt as streams of ants crossed our path, oblivious to our presence.

But there were moments we weren’t so lucky—twice, we found ourselves face-to-face with aggressive red ants.

Our clashes were brief and brutal.

The golems, already worn from the previous fight, were forced to act as shields, deflecting the ants' attacks as we moved carefully to avoid outright battles.

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The moles trembled, their worn claws struggling to dig even shallow divots to hide themselves.

I could see the fear in their eyes, but they pushed forward, trusting me to lead them safely.

The golems defended valiantly, forming walls to cover our retreat each time.

I felt my heart pounding with each encounter, the fear of attracting more ants always looming, and the frustration of having to avoid a true fight burning within me.

Finally, after what felt like hours of this nerve-wracking journey, Krothe let out a soft “Kaw!” and lifted a wing.

“We’re here.”

The forest opened up into a clearing littered with ant bodies.

My heart sank as I took in the scene.

Scattered across the ground lay blue ants—their iridescent shells cracked, their lifeless bodies crumpled.

There were red ants, too, sprawled across the forest floor, locked in the violent embrace of their final clash.

The ground was stained with their shared blood, and the air was thick with the sour scent of their struggle.

“So… they already fought,” I whispered, my voice heavy with the weight of what we were witnessing.

Krothe flapped his wings, lifting off to survey the area from above.

“Yes… looks like a battle, alright. And one the blue ants didn’t seem to win.”

I knelt by the blue ants’ bodies, running a hand over the shattered carapaces.

These ants had fought hard, even in the face of such overwhelming numbers.

There was a quiet bravery in their defeat, a dignity in the way they had held their ground despite their enemy’s strength.

I closed my eyes, feeling the sting of regret.

We had come hoping for allies, and yet we had arrived too late.

The moles approached, their leader bowing his head, an expression of respect and sorrow passing over his features.

They, too, had been uprooted by these merciless invaders.

The blue ants, once neighbors and perhaps even allies in the same forest, had faced a fate that now seemed perilously close for all of us.

I straightened, taking a deep breath as I turned back to Krothe.

“There might still be survivors deeper in the blue ants’ territory. We’ll search for anyone left who can help us.”

“Kaw! I agree.”

He nodded, his usual humor and wit replaced by a solemn understanding.

As I looked around one last time, I couldn’t shake the feeling that this place would be a turning point—whether towards victory or disaster, I didn’t yet know.

But as long as there was even a sliver of hope, I would see it through.

As we pressed forward through the dense undergrowth, Krothe took to the air once more, his wings slicing through the thick forest air as he scouted ahead.

His sharp eyes scanned every inch of the surroundings, and before long, he let out a sharp, urgent cry from above.

“Kaw! There, ahead! Red ants attacking blue ants!”

A jolt of adrenaline surged through me.

Without hesitation, I signaled to the golems, and we broke into a sprint.

The moles scurried close behind, their eyes wide with determination despite their weariness.

Soon, the sounds of conflict—scraping mandibles, hissing, and the crunch of hard shells—reached our ears.

We burst into a small clearing to find a group of blue ants, their bodies vibrant with a shimmering cobalt hue, fending off an onslaught of red ants.

The blue ants’ smaller numbers were no match for the swarm’s ferocity; even as they fought with all their strength, it was clear they were being overpowered.

“Attack!” I commanded, my voice cutting through the air.

The golems surged forward with a fierce resolve, their stone arms swinging and smashing into the red ants.

The little golem, though smaller, leaped forward with surprising agility, kicking and punching with unrestrained zeal.

The red ants, stunned by our sudden appearance, hesitated just long enough for us to take the upper hand.

One by one, the golems shattered their shells, pushing them back until the last red ant was defeated.

The blue ants, panting and battered, huddled together, cautiously watching us.

They chittered amongst themselves, their antennae twitching.

“Gee…ge…” One of them made a soft, almost musical sound.

“They’re thanking us,” Krothe interpreted, his eyes gleaming with pride.

I stepped forward, my expression as gentle as I could manage.

“We’re glad we could help. Do you think… you could take us to your nest? We need your help to fight the red ants.”

The blue ants exchanged glances, then made a softer, murmuring noise, as if discussing among themselves.

Finally, one of the larger ants made a sound—“Gree…”—before they turned and started to march forward.

“They’ve agreed,” Krothe explained. “They’re telling us to follow them.”

I nodded, relieved, and signaled to the others. “Alright, let’s go.”

Together, we followed the blue ants deeper into the forest.

The air felt different here—calmer, though tinged with the remnants of battles long fought and lost.

Every step we took felt like a step towards hope, towards survival.

---

Meanwhile, beyond the borders of our dungeon, in a desolate, open clearing, the ground was littered with the bodies of hunters.

Their armor was stained and broken, their weapons scattered among the ruins of their futile resistance.

Among them stood a lone figure, his expression unreadable as he surveyed the carnage he had wrought.

Blood coated his blade, and his stance radiated power and poise.

Derek—a name whispered among hunters and feared by those who opposed him.

An A-rank hunter, his mere presence commanded both respect and fear.

Tall and broad-shouldered, his dark hair hung low over sharp, steely eyes that reflected his grim determination.

His expression was cold, hardened by countless battles, yet in his gaze lay a depth of sorrow and a rage that simmered just beneath the surface.

The ones remaining alive knelt before him, trembling.

They were the demonic people—hunters who had forsaken their purpose, choosing instead to align with monsters, abusing their powers for personal gain.

In their desperation, they clasped their hands together, pleading for mercy.

“Please… let us go! We won’t do anything…” one of them stammered, his voice breaking.

Derek’s gaze sharpened, a fire blazing within his dark eyes. “I won’t give you the chance to do anything.”

With a swift, fluid motion, he raised his sword and struck, his blade slicing through the air with deadly precision.

The pleading voices ceased, replaced by the cold silence of death as their bodies slumped lifelessly to the ground.

Derek exhaled, his shoulders relaxing only slightly, though his face remained as resolute as ever.

The silence stretched across the field, interrupted only by the faint ringing of his phone.

He pulled it out, glancing at the screen before answering.

“Did you deal with them?” a voice asked on the other end.

“Yes. They won’t be causing any more trouble,”

Derek replied, his voice clipped. “By the way… any news about my sister?”

A brief silence followed on the other end before the voice answered, hesitant.

“Not yet. The last we know is that she entered a yellow-rank dungeon… but she never returned.”

Derek’s jaw tightened. “So… you think she died in there?”

“No. She and her team were strong enough to handle a yellow-rank dungeon.”

The voice sounded uneasy, sharing Derek’s suspicions. “I believe… demonic people were involved.”

Derek’s grip tightened around his phone, the muscles in his hand flexing.

His sister, his only remaining family, was someone he’d promised to protect, someone he’d give his life for.

Losing her to those who betrayed their own kind… the thought alone made his blood boil.

“Alright,” he finally replied, his voice quiet but filled with a chilling resolve. “Let me know the moment you hear anything.”

“Understood.” The call ended, and Derek stood in silence, his hand still clenched around his phone. In his heart, a storm of anger and worry raged, propelling him forward with an unshakable resolve.

With a final glance over the bodies of the fallen, Derek sheathed his blood-stained sword, his mind already planning his next move.

He would find the ones responsible, and he would make sure they paid.