After several minutes of trailing behind the blue ants, we reached their hidden nest.

Much like the lair of the red ants, it lay deep beneath the earth, a shadowed world carved in twisting tunnels and chambers, far from the light of day.

As we descended, the last glimmers of sunlight vanished, replaced by the flickering glow of our torches, casting long shadows along the earthen walls.

The nest was immense, a sprawling network of caverns and pathways wide enough for us to walk through with ease.

We took a moment to explore, captivated by the intricate structure that sheltered an entire colony.

Everywhere we looked, ants of different sizes and abilities scurried through the tunnels, each type with its own role and purpose.

Worker ants bustled about, tirelessly lifting heavy objects, seemingly defying the laws of nature by carrying weights multiple times their size.

Their bodies gleamed with a subtle blue hue, and they moved with a quiet but determined purpose, their strength formidable despite their small frames.

In another chamber, we encountered soldier ants, towering over the workers, their exoskeletons thicker and darker, jaws curved into lethal scythes.

They patrolled the nest with a vigilance that made it clear they were the first line of defense against any threat.

A fierce energy radiated from them, their eyes sharp, their bodies coiled and ready to strike at a moment’s notice.

To my surprise, there were ants walking upright, balancing on two legs as they darted through the tunnels.

They were fast—so fast that I could barely track their movements as they zipped past us.

Their long limbs seemed built for speed, enabling them to act as scouts, messengers, or perhaps even assassins for the colony.

We soon spotted another group of ants, wings folded neatly against their backs, perched along the walls.

They were flying ants, and their large, translucent wings shimmered faintly in the torchlight.

I imagined them launching into the air like a swarm of silent shadows, each wingbeat a testament to their adaptability and resilience.

Finally, we entered the heart of the nest, where the queen resided.

She lay upon a platform of softened earth, her body immense, far larger than any ant I had ever seen.

Her exoskeleton was deep blue, almost iridescent, reflecting a subtle glow in the darkness.

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Around her, worker ants scurried, offering her food and maintaining her surroundings, while soldier ants stood guard, their eyes focused and unblinking.

The blue ants who had guided us approached her, bowing low as they made quiet, reverent clicking sounds.

They seemed to be explaining who we were and the reason for our visit.

The queen’s eyes, intelligent and assessing, flicked in our direction.

Her antennae twitched, then she let out a series of soft clicks and hums.

“Gree… gee…” her voice echoed softly through the chamber.

“She is thanking us for saving her children,” Krothe translated, his voice almost reverent.

I inclined my head respectfully. “It was no trouble. But in truth, we’re here because we need your help, Your Majesty.”

The queen paused, her gaze assessing.

After a moment, she responded, her voice deeper this time, resonating through the cavern.

“Gee… gre…”

Krothe’s feathers ruffled as he translated. “She says… she can’t help us.”

I felt a pang of disappointment.

“May I know why?” I asked, my tone respectful but with a hint of desperation.

We had come so far, endured so much, only to face another obstacle.

“Geee…greee!” the queen’s voice resonated through the chamber, her tone somber.

Krothe tilted his head, listening carefully, then turned to me.

“She says their numbers are too few. If they fight the red ants directly, it’s likely they’ll be wiped out.”

I nodded, already understanding the grim reality of their position.

The blue ants were resilient but outmatched, their forces dwarfed by the endless tide of red ants.

Krothe continued, his voice low.

“Even if they somehow win, it would weaken their colony to the point where hunters or other predators would likely take advantage of their vulnerability.”

I pondered her plight, my gaze lingering on the queen as she looked back at me, her eyes filled with a quiet desperation.

This was more than a colony; it was an entire society, one that had fought tooth and nail to survive.

“Then, if that’s the case…” I took a steadying breath, meeting her intense gaze.

“How about this: if we succeed in driving the red ants back, I will provide you with a new place to live. A safe place, within my dungeon.”

The queen’s antennae twitched in confusion, and she let out a puzzled hum. “Greee…?”

Krothe translated, his tone softening. “She’s asking what you mean by that.”

I stepped forward, letting the light of the torches cast my shadow over the chamber, my voice firm but inviting.

“My name is Cyrus. I am the dungeon boss of the neighboring dungeon. If we manage to defeat the red ants, I’ll offer you refuge in my domain—a place where you and your colony can rebuild without fear.”

For a moment, the queen simply stared, the gravity of my offer settling into the quiet chamber.

Around her, the worker ants paused, their tiny, curious eyes watching us as if they understood the weight of this decision.

“Gree…gee…” The queen’s voice was softer this time, and Krothe glanced at me with a serious expression.

“She asks…how can she trust us?” Krothe translated.

I clenched my fist, feeling the urgency of the moment.

“You don’t have to trust me,” I said, my voice unwavering.

“But think of the alternative. If you choose not to help us, we’ll be forced to retreat. But the red ants won’t stop. They’ll expand, encroach on every inch of land they can claim, and eventually… they’ll come here.”

A heavy silence fell.

The queen’s eyes, brimming with tension, shifted between her workers and the faint torchlight flickering across the walls.

This was more than just survival; it was the very future of her colony at stake.

Finally, after a prolonged silence, the queen spoke, her voice laced with resignation. “Gree…geee.”

Krothe gave a slow nod, relaying her words.

“She agrees. But she says not to expect too much…even with their help, she fears the red ants might be too powerful.”

A faint smile played on my lips. “Don’t worry. I have a plan.”

The queen tilted her head, her antennae reaching forward as if to probe the depths of my intentions.

“Gee?” she murmured.

Krothe blinked, slightly taken aback.

“Really?”

It was unclear whether he was translating the queen’s curiosity or asking on his own behalf.

I raised my hand, clenching it into a fist.

“The red ants’ biggest advantage is their sheer numbers. If we’re going to win, our first step has to be to thin their ranks.”

Krothe raised a skeptical brow. “And how exactly do you plan to do that?”

I looked at the queen, at the worker ants bustling around her, each one a symbol of loyalty and strength, ready to defend their queen at any cost.

My voice grew steady, filled with newfound resolve.

“All I needed was a safe place, somewhere to prepare…somewhere to build. Now that I have it, I can begin creating more golems. Enough to turn the tide.”

The queen’s gaze remained fixed on me, her eyes narrowing with a glimmer of renewed hope.

“Tell her,” I said, turning to Krothe with a fire in my eyes, “that I’ll use every resource I have to see this through. We will reduce their numbers, turn the tide, and defeat them.”

Krothe nodded, translating my words to the queen, who responded with a soft, hopeful hum.

She knew the risk, the cost, and yet, beneath her guarded expression, there was the faintest hint of belief.

With a solemn nod, I began my preparations, already envisioning the waves of golems that would rise from the earth.