"Magic is more than energy; it’s a way to make our desires come true—a means to distort the fabric of reality and bend it to our will." Morthak said, conjuring a cube of pure magical energy that floated in the air.
"This... feels wrong, you know? There are so many limitations, so many rules. You can’t put rules on imagination, right?" I asked, gently touching the cube above me. It dissolved into green smoke.
"Exactly. That’s because magic, as we know and learn it, was shaped to fit basic concepts—touch, smell, sight, and hearing. Now tell me, can you imagine the true purpose of magic? Why hundreds of thousands of magicians toil every day to perfect themselves on this treacherous path?" Morthak asked.
"I don’t know... Because they want power? Or maybe because they think magic is cool. I know those were my reasons..."
"Haha, not everyone is as simple as you, young lady. Magic, as we know it, began as an attempt to replicate phenomena observed in nature. And the main motivator? War." Morthak said, a bloodthirsty smile spreading across his face.
"H-Huh?"
"It’s always war. Whether it’s developing new techniques, discovering new knowledge, or inventing tools, war is the mother of innovation. Magic is no different. Burn with fire, drown with water, crush with earth, and cut with wind—this basic principle birthed all modern magic. Magicians weren’t content with weak, non-lethal spells. They wanted bigger, stronger, deadlier magic to become the ultimate weapons of war." Morthak explained with a grim satisfaction.
"Hmm... You really know how to inspire someone, huh?" I muttered.
It wasn’t surprising, I suppose. History always repeats itself. Whether in my original world or this one, war and death seem to drive progress. After all, people think faster when there’s a guillotine hanging over their necks.
"So... are you telling me this to say something like, ‘Don’t become like them’? Or maybe to warn me that ‘This is how things are’? You should know—I’m a pacifist. I avoid fighting unless it’s the absolute last resort."
"HAHA! A pacifist, huh? That’s rare these days. Do you know why?"
"Huh?"
"Most pacifists are corpses or idiot princesses locked in towers." Morthak said, his expression darkening. "Here’s some advice: There is no honor among the dead."
"Wha—What does that even mean? Are you sure you’re still sane?"
"Haha! Girl, do you know who created the first 4-ring spell?" Morthak asked, ignoring my question.
"How would I know? I didn’t even know this kind of magic existed until now!" I snapped.
"Exactly. Neither do most people. You know why? Because it doesn’t matter. All his work, all his trials and errors, all his research—useless. Do you know why? Because he was a prisoner of war doing forced labor. Poor bastard, just a magic enthusiast with ideas too big for such a small head. His talent, passion, and fervor for the mysteries of magic were caged like an animal. His achievements were stolen, and his name erased from history. He—the father of the strongest magic in the world—was forgotten, swept under the rug." Morthak’s tone grew increasingly dramatic.
"The strongest magic in the world? So 4-ring magic is the limit?"
"No. The current limit is 7 rings." Morthak said lazily.
"Then how the hell is he the ‘Father of the strongest magic in the world’?!"
"Because he was—for about three or four days. After that, more 4-ring spells were created. Soon, his spell was deemed inefficient and archaic, eventually forgotten. That’s the lesson here: Do you love magic? Good. It’s a torturous path, and we always need brave warriors. But remember—your effort, your inspiration, your achievements and dreams are meaningless if you can’t protect yourself. If you’re not willing to fight for what you’ve created, you’re destined to be forgotten by the sands of time." Morthak’s gaze bore into me, heavy with meaning.
"Ugh..."
Damn. He basically just told me to mind my own business. I know this whole 'pacifist' thing is a luxury for more civilized people, but as a former human from the 21st century, I can’t see selfishness as a virtue.
Technically, I should only care about myself and the boys—everything else is just noise. But... What kind of monster ignores others in pain or hurts them preemptively? Ugh, stop overthinking, Hana. Just imagine if you were attacked... Oh, who am I kidding? I already know the answer.
We’re more important. It’s like when those birds attacked us—I didn’t feel any sadness for them. In fact, I felt satisfaction when they died. But only because they attacked the boys. Before that? I didn’t care about them at all.
I guess that’s it. We all have a breaking point, don’t we? Mine is the boys. Anything and everything that tries to hurt them is my enemy. They’re my babies, my family, my friends. They’re all I have—and anyone who tries to take them from me will have to kill me first.
"Thinking too much, uhm?" Morthak asked, his voice breaking the silence.
"Huh? Oh, I'm sorry... I was just... thinking about what you said." I replied, snapping back to reality.
"Hmm." Morthak rubbed his chin. "Girl, you're too young to understand, but there’s no such thing as morality or 'right and wrong.' There are only people. They kill, reproduce, love, hate, feel fear, hunger, sadness. All of it drives action—some good, some bad. What you have to do isn’t think about how to react. What you really have to do is react.
If they hurt you, hurt them back. If they ignore you, ignore them. If they love you, love them back. It’s simple. There’s no need to complicate it. The living always complicate everything—it’s ridiculous." Morthak stared into the distance as though reflecting on something far away.
"Did you—Did you just read my mind or something?"
"Heh. I wish." he chuckled. "It’s written all over your face that you’re stuck in some kind of moral dilemma. Honestly, I’m surprised you have any morals. I always thought monsters just did whatever they had to do to survive."
"I... I don’t know." I admitted, hugging my shoulders. "I’ve made some—no, a lot of bad choices to get here. I think... I hurt my babys because I was selfish and foolish. I... Do you know how it feels to not know what you’re doing but still have to keep doing it?"
Morthak froze, his expression shifting to something almost... sympathetic. After a pause, he gave a dry, hoarse laugh and leaned on his bone staff. "You know, girl, no one really knows what they’re doing. Some people try to plan things out and convince themselves they’re in control of their lives, but they aren’t.
Do you think that if someone told me three days ago I’d be inside a cave with a half-insect girl, surrounded by strange creatures, I’d believe them? Life is a bitch. It makes you think everything’s okay, that things will get better, that the future’s bright. But it’s not. In a second, everything you’ve done, everything you’ve worked for, everything you are—gone, like straw in a fire."
The air grew colder, the atmosphere tense. Neither of us spoke for what felt like minutes.
I don’t know if I’ve been through enough to claim I’ve seen it all, but this feeling... this weight of loss? That, I understand.
"...Okay." I finally said, clapping my hands together to break the silence.
Morthak glanced at me.
"You know, I’m not one to talk about this kind of stuff with strangers, but... I don’t think you’re right, or wrong. How do I even say this?"
"Ah." Morthak interrupted. "You need to find what’s right for yourself, young lady. Everyone sees the world differently. Some say the glass is half-full, others say it’s half-empty, and some don’t care about the glass at all. It’s up to you to decide what you see."
"Yeah... I can work with that, I think. Wait—hold on a minute! Don’t go back there!" I grabbed his arm, panic creeping into my voice.
"Why not?" Morthak raised a brow, amused.
"There’s a magical anomaly back there! We’re still analyzing it. It’s dangerous to be near, though I managed to stabilize it for now."
"Ha! You call the earth flame an 'anomaly'? Girl, it’s no anomaly. It’s a natural phenomenon, just rare." He paused, his tone shifting. "Wait... stabilized? Now that you mention it, I can’t feel the aura of energy emanating from the flame. What did you do, girl?"
Before I could stop him, Morthak freed himself from my grip and hobbled toward the back of the cave, leaning heavily on his staff.
The scene at the cave’s end was chaotic yet mesmerizing: hundreds of bees buzzed around, roots and wax mingled with mud in a patchwork mess. At the center, a neon-blue puddle shimmered peacefully, while a small, pulsating golden star hovered above it.
Morthak ignored the workers and walked through swarms of bees, unflinching despite their threatening hum. His gaze fixed on the ethereal golden light. He extended a finger toward it, curiosity overcoming caution, but the star lashed out with a tiny spark, charring the tip of his finger black.
"Argh! Damn it!"
"I told you to stay away from that thing, Morthak!" I yelled, rushing to pull him back. "It’s too dangerous! We don’t even know what it is or what it’s capable of!"
Morthak just stood there, alternating his gaze between the tip of his finger and the star of light that was absorbing the energy from the blue puddle below. "Hahaha... HAHAHA!" Morthak burst out laughing.
"Girl." Morthak suddenly said, turning to me. "Do you remember what I told you about magic?" he asked with a slightly macabre look.
"Uhm... That it's dangerous?"
"No!" he corrected. "Magic is more than just energy. Magic is a way to make our desires come true, a way to distort the fabric of reality and bend it to our will. Does that jog your memory?"
"Yeah? But what does that have to do with—"
"This!" Morthak said, pointing to the star of light. "It doesn't exist." He finished.
"Huh? How can it not exist if it's right in front of me, old man?" I asked, intrigued. I always knew he was a little crazy, but honestly...
"Girl, I'm telling you, this... this is a type of magic I've never seen or felt before. It's something totally new, something that didn't exist. Normally, you can tell just by looking at magic what its roots are—whether it's ring magic, sorcery, or something else. And if you're experienced enough, you can even tell the element of the magic and try to guess its purpose. But this here..." Morthak said, pointing to the star, "...this is something I've never seen in my entire existence. Tell me, how did you create this?"
"I think you're going to be disappointed. It's the result of a [Skill]; it's not exactly a spell or anything like that."
"A [Skill]? Hmm... Intriguing. If you hadn't told me, I would never have guessed it's the result of a skill. It's... too perfect." Morthak said, not taking his eyes off the star of light.
"What do you mean?"
"You know, skills aren't meant to cause permanent effects on the world. At least, I'd say most of them aren't. Skills help in combat, status, or things like that, but there isn't a skill that can... for example, create an eternal fireball. Skills have a cost—either to use them or to keep them active. But this... this is perfect. It's like a self-sustaining magic formation that could last for decades, maybe centuries, if left untouched." Morthak said.
"Hmm... Thank you? It was quite difficult to create, to tell you the truth."
This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.
"What's its purpose?"
"Oh? It's used to absorb the energy from the pool and convert it into safe energy."
"Impressive... A way to refine the chaotic magical energy of the earth flame without having to consume it and assimilate it into your mana pool." Morthak said, his hand on his chin.
"What's that?"
"Uhm? Oh, right, I forget that you don't have that general knowledge. Normally, if someone wants to absorb 'foreign' energy into their body, they need to consume it and let their mana pool—your personal energy reservoir—slowly convert it into safe energy. But not you. You have this little guy here to do that dirty work for you. Damn, do you have any idea how much you could make selling one of these around?" Morthak joked.
"Wait, so... So this is the "Flame of the Earth" you were talking about before?? Oh, right, now that I stop to think about it, of course is. Look, I'm sorry for messing with your stuff, it's just that I really needed the mana." I tried to apologize, bowing respectfully.
"Alright, alright." Morthak said, waving his hand. "If you were anyone else, I would have drained you dry to pay for the theft. But you showed me something far more valuable than the energy within that little earth flame."
"Look, I don't know what you're thinking, but I know as much about this thing as you do, maybe even less. So don't think I can create more of them."
"A disappointment, but understandable. But I think I've already figured out what I'm going to take from you as payment for my help." Morthak said, looking at me with a macabre smile.
"Wait!? Charge me?! I thought you were helping me out of the goodness of your heart! Come on, man, look at me! I'm living in a hole full of dirt!"
"Girl, not even the saints of the church work for free, imagine me. And don't worry, I don't want or need material goods. I already have what I want right here... I just need to find a way to contain it." He said, looking at the tip of his blackened finger.
"Dude, seriously!? Ugh, at least give me some time, okay? Just so I can produce enough food to feed myself and my family until the end of this... Frost Season." I asked, rubbing my head at the thought of having to create another one of these little guys. It was giving me a headache just thinking about it.
"Uhm... Sure. That'll be a reasonable amount of time for the two of us. I can teach you all the basics, and I can also call in some favors to get something good enough to contain this thing." Morthak said.
----------------------------------------
15 - Days Later
"My queen! Please, listen to me! We all know we need to expand the nest, but expanding outwards is ridiculous! The construction club people are so used to building towers, they can't see the obvious solution! We need to dig down!" A small [Debater] flew toward me, aided by some workers.
"Ridiculous! You can't seriously be considering this, my queen! We're not miners, and we don't have the tools for it! We need new rooms for the nest expansion, not some risky, untested technique!" Another [Debater] countered.
"We can use the [Carpenters] as makeshift labor, and with help from the [Workers] and [Soldiers], it should only take a few days to dig a hole, stabilize it, and seal it with wax. Not to mention, towers are too flashy. We need to at least make our home safe! We can build an underground hive, dungeon-style, with secret exits and only one main entrance. It's not about ‘following the pattern,’ it’s about security!" The first [Debater] argued.
"Listen here, you—"
'Humf—how boring~'
Here I am, sitting on a cold rock, legs crossed, hand on my cheek, almost falling asleep from boredom as I watch my children debate the future of the hive. I know I should take this more seriously, but come on. It's already the ninth meeting today—who the hell can sit through this much without showing it?!
This has been happening more often than I'd like to admit. Apparently, being a mother/queen/bee is all about mediating discussions, making decisions, and ensuring the harmony of the hive. Honestly, it’s like the old days. Back when the boys would argue, and to "settle it." they’d come to me and ask me to decide. It was so... annoying. But I can’t blame everything on Steve. Not if I really want to be more than just an egg-laying queen. Steve would’ve solved this problem without even needing a physical meeting, but I’ve been stuck on it for days.
Practice makes perfect, I guess. Too bad I never took it seriously before.
"Ugh..." I sighed loudly, making everyone turn to me. "We’ll do the following: first, we’ll secure the hive’s living space. If we need to leave the cave, I’ll allow constructions, but nothing taller than 3 meters or more than 5 meters away from the cave." My words echoed through the cave. Most of them seemed satisfied, except for a few [Debaters] who looked bitter. 'Hmm... Must be the free will effect of their class that lets them disagree with me... It’s funny.'
"...However, as soon as the nest stabilizes, the nurseries are reestablished, and the alchemy club gets its base of operations back, we’ll start an experimental excavation project. We’ll use everything we can—Jasper’s bombs, Levi’s tools, whatever works." That seemed to ease things. Everyone appeared satisfied with the decision. "Alright, on to the next topic." I said, rubbing my eyes. "What to do with Morthak." I read from the mental list Emi, my personal secretary, had given me. "Oh, come on, boys, we already know the answer to that: nothing! We can’t just kick him out of our lives like that."
"Yeah, but he’s currently the biggest threat to the hive’s future! Have you forgotten he almost killed you three times last week?!" one [Debater] protested.
"It was training. Very ninja-style, if you ask me! Thanks to his help, we’re finally learning something really deep about magic and the world we live in!"
"I don’t know how blasting spells in your face is going to help you, my queen! But it sure as hell won’t help you survive!" a [Royal Guard] spoke up.
Morthak’s training is a little... rough. Like Harry Potter’s military training. He makes me cast spells, and if I don’t do them perfectly or on time, he hits me over the head with that stupid staff or lets the spell backfire in my face. It made me really angry, but... honestly, it worked. Now I have a deeper understanding of the dangers, limits, and scope of raw magic.
Morthak promised to teach me ring magic, and that’s exactly what he did. I learned a few basic first-tier spells like [Sparkle], [Flame], and [Push]. All useless, weak spells that make magic seem like a toy. [Sparkle] creates a ball of white light as weak as a candle flame. [Flame] just creates sparks, and [Push] is literally just a push forward. And the worst part? I worked my ass off to cast these weak spells. Ring magic is complicated—runes and more runes, on top of runes, combinations, formulas, and geometric shapes... It’s like I’m learning advanced calculus, arithmetic, and mythicism all at once. I never had this problem with expression magic. I just had to think and somehow shape my thoughts!
But I have to admit, ring magic is cheap. Really cheap. Like, 10 times cheaper. I can keep a first-tier spell active for days for the same cost as casting a spell like [Tainted Touch] at full strength. And apparently, that’s a characteristic of expression magic—the stronger the desire, the clearer the mental image, the higher the cost and the results.
Morthak also told me that expression magic isn’t as popular nowadays because there’s a lack of professionals in this field. Ring magic is precise; you can’t go wrong if you follow the rules and calculations. But expression magic... It’s more like an art. Every user has a unique style, purpose, and will. Using expression magic is like bringing imagination to life, but you can’t memorize imagination.
After the meeting ended, I walked around the cave. Now, the place feels more like home. The walls are covered in wax, with various constructions stuck to it. There are wooden and wax boxes serving as planters, producing wild flowers. The cave is lit by several [Workers], and hundreds of bees move around, always in a hurry.
We did a good job with thermal insulation. The walls are layered—wax, fabric from the sewing club, wax again, wood, and finally, more wax for reinforcement. All that’s left is to build a "door" at the entrance—basically a hole with a lid—and let the heat accumulate inside our new home.
Of course, I’d give an arm to have our luggage, my experiments, rations, and Muck back, but... I guess this is better than her being dead. Just thinking about the human who attacked us makes me angry. But you know what’s worse? I have no idea what happened to her. I don’t remember much, just fragments. The last thing I recall is her charging at us, followed by a sharp, overwhelming pain coursing through the hive link. Then… everything went red. When I woke up, I was in this cave, disoriented. One part of me feels a twisted hope that she’s dead, but another part aches, praying that she’s okay. Killing bugs and animals is one thing, but killing humans… I know it’s foolish, especially after everything I said about "Hit me, and I'll kill you." but... there’s a voice in my head telling me that killing is wrong. Maybe it’s the last trace of my humanity, or just a voice of conscience trying to keep me from becoming a monster. I don’t know. It’s strange.
Pushing those thoughts aside, I continue through the cave, passing the infirmary—what’s become a recovery center now. It’s where soldiers and explorers go after their icy expeditions. The nurses aren’t just tending to wounds anymore; they’re inspecting the bees to determine who can go back out and who needs more time to recover.
Steve and his bureaucratic bees are now living in a compact ball of bees anchored to the ground. They’ve lost their office, so now they spend all their time managing the hive through the link. It doesn’t look comfortable, but it’s necessary. With the hive expanding, without their oversight, we’d barely get anything done in a day.
The magic club, however, is progressing. Located deep within the cave near the “earth flame,” they’ve been working to absorb and store the energy generated by it. So far, their progress is shaky at best, but there’s some success. They’ve managed to build a root structure around the “mana node,” which absorbs energy through its roots and channels it to a small mana battery made from crystals—ones I helped create. It’s simple, unstable, and inefficient, but it works. The energy doesn’t need to be harvested directly from the node, which I’m grateful for since I believe that thing could explode any second.
Despite the instability, it’s still a step forward. Thanks to the earth flame, we’ve been able to feed our babies without needing to drain animals. Are we recovering slowly? Yes. But compared to when I first built the nest, we’re growing rapidly. With all the knowledge from the first nest stored inside me, we’re building faster than ever. The real damage was material; we didn’t lose anyone or any knowledge. The only loss I’m really concerned about is the [Mana Node Heart]—a amazing creation I made by accident while trapped inside my own mind. No one knows how I did it, and honestly, I don’t either.
Muck’s situation is different. If I can’t find him or if he can’t return, I’ll have to make another one. The only real loss will be my soul fragment—forever lost. That’s the part that hurts.
"Ugh, there’s so much to do—stabilize the food source, expand the nest, gather resources, build operational facilities. Basically everything."
After checking in with the magic club, I head back to the more active part of the cave. I sit down at the makeshift wooden and stone table, reach for some dried animal skins scattered around, and dip my sharp nails into a pungent inkwell. Then, I start sketching circles and runes on the animal skin.
A few minutes later, I stop and look at what I’ve made: a poorly drawn circle with random runic inscriptions, circuits, and designs Morthak had taught me. "Hmm, good enough, I guess." Without much enthusiasm, I pour my magical energy into the skin. The inked design begins to glow a faint golden light. The skin starts to disintegrate from the edges toward the center, and within seconds, it all crumbles, leaving a tiny ball of light that flickers before fading out like a blown-out candle.
"Damn it, another failure. That old idiot! How does he expect me to do this without proper guidance!?"
This was an attempt at “Enchantment,” a process Morthak introduced to me. It’s a way to imbue items with spells or effects. The most common form is enchanting scrolls with pre-recorded spells. Morthak gave me some special magic ink, and he told me I could use the skins of magical beasts instead of the usual enchanted paper, which I found fascinating. The catch, though, is I have to hunt the magical creatures to use their leather. On top of that, I need to create functional parchment with the little magic ink I have until Morthak returns. He warned me that if I don’t improve, I’ll have to “reinforce the training.” What a pain.
Honestly, I’m seriously considering taking down Morthak at this point. Who teaches like that? He handed me the ink and just said, “Make a functional parchment!” He didn’t explain the process at all. I don’t even know if I’m doing it right. I’m just trying to write down the magical inscriptions he taught me, hoping they’ll work. And speaking of what he taught me… Damn. If I weren’t a bee, with my entire hive supporting me, there’s no way I could’ve memorized everything Morthak dumped on me. I had to follow his pace because I had over 400 bees working around the clock in my mind, storing, processing, and categorizing all that information.
There are hundreds—no, thousands—of different magical runes. Some of them differ by just millimeters, and each one has its own function, reaction, and action. Together, they form this complex, strange language of symbols and runes. It’s like a mix of Hieroglyphs, Arabic, and Klingon. Those runes I learned about a while ago? They’re nothing. Just the tip of the iceberg. Now I understand why Morthak’s a bit of a crazy old man. Anyone who tries to learn this stuff is bound to go mad! I wanted to be a magical girl, not an academic magical girl!
“Argh! Why is there no such thing as a free meal!? Damn, even magic has become hard work now…” I muttered to myself. “I could keep researching expression magic or look into this new way of casting magic, but… I don’t know.”
I mean, all knowledge is useful, right? Even the silly stuff, the things that no one ever thinks they’ll need. The more information you have, the clearer your decisions become. I thought I was an “expert” in magic just a couple weeks ago. But now, I realize I’m really only good at one type of magic when there are so many others out there. Witchcraft magic, elemental magic, divine magic, expression magic, ring magic, blood magic… the list goes on. I didn’t even know most of them existed. And don’t get me started on the “new” magic I discovered. I say “discovered,” but I’m not sure if it’s actually new, or if someone else has already figured it out. I was going to ask Morthak about it, but… I think I’ll keep quiet for now. If he forces me to answer through magic, well, I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it. I’m not opening up to a guy who calls himself “The Corpse Artisan.”
I don’t dislike Morthak, but I can’t say I like him either. I’m thankful for his help, but the guy’s kind of a jerk. I don’t mean to judge, but… Well, it’s kind of to be expected from a necromancer, right? I don’t know. He’s definitely powerful, and way better at magic than I am. Even though his spells are all ring-based, they’re still way stronger than my expression magic, which, in theory, should be naturally more powerful than ring magic.
And then there’s the way he smells. Not like rotting flesh, but like… a cemetery? It’s weird. And he has that haggard, sickly appearance that makes people think he’s weak, but he’s far from it. He’s got that staff of his too. Man, I’d love to have one of those. I spent so long trying to create a magic wand or staff for myself, but every attempt was a failure. At this point, I was beginning to wonder if magic staffs even existed in this world. But Morthak has one. I want to study it up close, figure out how it works, and finally make my own.
“Queen Mother! Koala attack!” A group of soldiers suddenly shouted.
“What? Another one? That’s the fifth this week!” I groaned, shaking my head and snapping back to reality.
The “koala” they were referring to was a half-bear, half-tiger beast that roams these parts. It’s got the head of a koala, the body of a sloth, the claws of a tiger, and the tail of a bear. It looks cute—until you get a glimpse of its mouth full of jagged teeth, which makes it look like something straight out of a horror movie. These creatures are solitary and about the size of a full-grown horse. They’re annoying, but they’re also useful for gathering resources.
“Ugh… Activate the Life Guardians, make sure to keep it alive. We’ll use it for juice to produce more mana. Also, send a notice to the Processing and Sewing Club—they’ll need to process the hide and remove the fur. The meat should be used for paté, and the bones need to be ground up and sent to Jasper. Anything else? Oh, right! Use the expendable organs to lure in more prey. No need to report every single koala attack, okay? It’s getting old.”
“Yes, Queen Mother!” The soldiers said, saluting before flying off to handle the situation.
“Hmph. Looks like it’s koala meat for dinner tonight. Ugh…”