Amelia burst into the room. “Swarm!”

She had fear in her eyes, and urgency in her step. Her clothes were stained in a thick liquid of green, yellow and brown. In her hand, she carried a hefty mace that was dripping with a foul smelling goop.

“Swarm?” I asked, but they didn’t spare a moment to explain.

We rushed down the stairs to the abbey kitchen. My eyes went wide at the sight. A sickly, sweet scent filled the kitchen coming from the dozens of massive cockroaches, each as big as a cat. The place was moving, full of glossy carapace of earthy tones, and swaying antennae. Their spiky legs clicked as they skittered along the floor, walls and ceiling. [Keen Eye] listed them as ‘gray’ Grublings.

They were swarming the place, devouring the stored food. I didn’t have time for them -- we could get more food later. Screaming and shrieking came from the nave. I took my rusty machete out and ran to rescue the kids.

In the nave, orphans were in the midst of a chaotic battle with the cockroaches. In a corner, girls were wailing, young boys were crying, but Luther had organized a party with the other older boys to guard them. They worked as a team to beat down any roaches that got close with wooden swords. I rushed in to help them.

With all the kids running about, I feared to use my wands or to swing my machete. I dropped the blade at Luther’s feet. He stopped for a moment to look up at me. I nodded to him, then turned and went to work with my vicious claws. I grabbed, squeezed, and crushed. Bug guts and fluid sprayed out, the stench made me nauseous, but I was relentless. I hated cockroaches with a passion, and this may have been somewhat therapeutic.

Amelia arrived to heal the injuries, while Darya used a mace to smash the bugs. I stomped about the place, yet more kept on coming in. I couldn’t reach the ones up on the ceiling. I spared a moment to glance outside. Things weren’t any better there. Villagers ran about the place, armed with swords, spears and clubs. A few used magic and powerful attacks to zap the bugs with lighting, freeze them solid, or set them on fire. And that was probably the cause of the house fires. I needed to get things under control inside here before I could help outside. We needed a safe room.

“Get everyone in the kitchen!” I yelled to Darya and Amelia.

I rushed back into the kitchen and set to work in clearing out the roaches. Soon, the kids were herded in. While I killed the bugs, they threw the remains out the window. It took some time to get every last one of them, but once they were gone we barricaded the place, shoved tables and benches up against the door and windows. Luther and other older kids stood guard, ready to destroy any bugs that managed to squeeze in.

“Stay here,” I told them “I’ll go help with the fires outside, alright?”

Outside, bugs were aplenty, but it was the four house fires that troubled me. Their dry thatch roofs were burning hot and bright. A gusty wind was lifting embers up into the air, spreading them to other roofs. My fireman instincts kicked in, but I had no firetruck, no gear, no firehose, no nothing. Extinguishing these fires wasn’t going to happen, next on the list was to investigate, rescue and maybe contain the fire from spreading further. I bolted for the nearest fire, kicking, and stomping on the bugs along the way.

These homes weren’t some three storey, five bedroom labyrinths of suburban America, but as simple as a garage. I seriously doubted anyone was stuck inside, and especially judging by how the villagers were acting. Most were killing bugs, and a few were concerned about dragging out useless furniture and items.

Instead, I ran to the houses downwind from the fires, and found some roofs starting to send up wisps of smoke. I could have climbed up on the roof, but I had a better idea. Using [Telekinesis,] I grabbed a clump of smoldering thatch and pulled it off the roof and down to the dirt. While stomping out the fire, I pulled down more clumps.

I was soon joined by a couple of villagers spraying water using spells. It looked like I wasn’t the only one on firefighting duty. Their effort wasn’t anywhere close to the firehose spray I was used to, but it did enough to wet the roofs and stop the fire from hopping from roof to roof.

Darya caught up to me by the time the roofs were thoroughly soaked, and I had made sure the fire wasn’t likely to spread. With the sun setting, the bugs simply moved on. They flew up into the air, and moved west with the wind.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

“Anyone get seriously hurt?” I asked her.

“No, but nearly all the food was eaten. It would have been fine if it was just us, but it’s the same story with everyone else. We're gonna be looking at a couple of hungry months till summer.”

“How’s the fishing here?” I asked Darya.

“Not enough to feed everyone.”

“Uh-huh. Any ideas?”

“A Goliath Turtle would be swell.”

“I hope you don’t mean the turtles in the swamp. I've seen them, and they’re enormous. That’d be suicide.”

Darya rubbed her belly. “Lotta meat though, and yummy too.”

“No. How about some other ideas, maybe ones that could be done at night?”

“Night? Why at night?”

“Well, I got this passive that might be-”

She narrowed her eyes. “At midnight?”

“Maybe, why-”

She grinned. “[Measured Savagery], eh? Good choice.”

“Oh, you know about it?”

“That I do, and that’s ‘cause I know most of ‘em. The popular ones anyway.”

“What are the best ones in your opinion?”

“Well obviously, the tier five ones, but those aren't meant for folks like us, but your sort, eh?”

She came across a bit snappy in the way she said it. Was it envy, resentment, or something else? Gregor said that most people never got a chance to use a tier four, or five passives because they had three passive slots or fewer. It was much like back home on Earth, how far you could go was more about where you were born and to whom. All the meaningful choices are almost never given to make in the first place. I could understand Darya’s frustration. It was a lot like being born handicapped with no possibility of a cure.

“Anyone have a list of all the skills and passives, and what they do?” I asked.

She furrowed her brows. “You of all people should have all that memorized by now, yeah?”

“Maybe a few slipped my mind.”

“Fret not, Amelia can help you there.”

I smiled. “That’d be awesome, thanks. By the way, how many dungeon orbs do you have?”

“Eight counting the tier two orbs.”

At more than an hour per run, I had been thinking that killing all the monsters in a dungeon wasn’t the best use of my time. All the best loot and experience came from the boss. As long as the boss dropped a dungeon orb, one could just chain dungeons back to back without end.

“Let’s run them all after midnight. Ten minutes to get in, rush to the boss, kill it and get out. What do you think?”

If I could kill a boss with a single shot from a Heavy Wand, I could only imagine the damage it could do with [Measured Savagery] active.

Darya beamed. “I love the sound of that.”

On the way back to the abbey we found Luther practicing with his new rusty machete in the yard. We stopped to watch him, and while I had zero experience in using a sword, it certainly looked like he knew what he was doing. He must have noticed me, because he picked up in vigor and speed. He stepped and cut, stepped and thrusted, then parried. This kid was going places. He continued on going up and down the yard without end.

***

Luther raised the powerful sword in his hand with admiration. The rust on the blade thirsted to be cleansed with the acrid blood of his arch enemy. The roaches. With the arrival of the Supreme Commander came new hope. Things were going to change now.

Luther was certain that the roach nest down in the catacombs had not escaped the Commander’s unfaltering gaze. He must have thought that Luther was ready for the arduous task of cleansing the sacred abbey of this vile scourge, for why else would he grant him such a weapon? It was nothing short of the Holy Avenger.

The bugs were countless and vile, and Luther had to raise a massive army for this crusade into the bowels of hell itself. He needed the best and the strongest. But not Steven. Take my pudding will ya? He’ll grow to regret such a gutless insult. The Supreme Commander had chosen him over Steven, and he will learn his new place -- far below him. Luther was going to show everyone what that meant.

More important still, Luther needed to gather provisions for this arduous campaign. Everyone knew that an army moved on its belly. However, the swarm couldn’t have come at the worst time, devouring the stocks. He needed to move fast. He couldn’t hesitate or show mercy to his enemy. Their numbers were quick to multiply if left unchecked.

He couldn’t see any other way out than to strike a deal with Yuliana, the snot-nosed princess. Her ties to the royal house were solid, and her immense wealth built up over the years spoke volumes. No doubt she’d insist on being his second in command, but perhaps it would be a tolerable compromise. After all, she was cute.