I began the attack with a fireball, arguably the largest discharge I've ever released. The attack was nearly effortless, from the initial concentration to the release, a testament to the power I had accumulated. The bright orb of flame soared through the air, crackling with energy, and struck the target with a resounding explosion, sending shockwaves rippling through the ground. Smoke clouds the area, providing the perfect cover for my advancing children.
Following my lead, the very first wave makes its appearance. Dozens of my children surfaced in a concentrated attack on its vulnerable belly. The process was rather simple but required precise coordination, a specialty of ours. My toughest daughters, with their thick exoskeletons and unwavering courage, act as bait. They dart around the creature, drawing its attention with quick, deliberate movements. Meanwhile, the smaller children, agile and swift, circle to the back. While the creature was distracted by the bait, they launched their attack on its underbelly.
Much like I predicted, the plan works as intended, and the creature is completely caught off guard by the wave of attackers. It's concerning that my best fireball colliding with its face seems to leave it unfazed, but it does little to change the situation. It's clear that the lizard is genuinely confused as it tries to make sense of what is happening.
However, we're only given a whole ten seconds to do as we please before the creature snaps back to reality. It lets out a loud roar, and simply spins in a circle. It didn't seem like it would do much, but with its size and the speed that it turned, dozens of my children were flung off of its body and onto the ground. It's even worse for those on the ground, where its tail either smacks them away or grinds them into a yellow pulp. A majority of the survivors are critically injured, and the monster finishes the job by swallowing them whole.
Just like that an entire wave has been fended off, and far quicker than I anticipated, but it's no reason to fret. I had planned for some losses. Our strategy involved tiring out the lizard, not beating it upfront. We had the numbers to keep this thing occupied for a good while.
Except it didn't want to be left occupied. Following the spin of death, the lizard takes the initiative and charges towards the wave that's emerging behind me. Is it onto our strategy already?
The creature covers dozens of meters in a single stride, and within seconds it's in front of the next wave and I. But rather than attack my emerging children, the creature locks eyes with me in an almost magnetic fashion. Oh no.
In the blink of an eye it lunges towards me, a primal hunger visible in its eyes that are almost as large as me. Rather than attempt to evade, I flinch and freeze up, the massive gaping maw just mere feet from my face. Teleport? Not enough time. Attack? It will do nothing. Move. Move. MOVE.
And at long last I do move…but not of my own will. My vision blurs as I'm shoved to the side, and I get a closeup view of my pursuer devouring my children. Several of them had pushed me out of the way at the last moment, trading their lives for mine.
But the worst part is that I don't feel any sort of remorse. There's a feeling, instinctual even, that they were supposed to do that. That I deserved it. Instead of regret or sadness, I feel an odd sense of satisfaction, a primal sense of fulfillment that they had fulfilled their purpose. It's as if this brutal cycle of life and death has numbed me to the point where sacrifices like this are expected, almost welcomed. The last of their screeches echo in my mind, and yet, I push forward, compelled by an urge that I can't put into words.
I scramble to my feet, the weight of my survival pressing heavily on my dirtied exoskeleton. My pursuer, eyes burning with hatred, snarls as it devours the last of my children. I lock eyes with it for a fleeting moment, and a silent promise passes between us – this isn’t over.
He turns to me in a fluid motion, but this time around I'm ready for his attack. A perfectly timed teleport leaves me in a far better position behind the creature, where it looks at where I just was in confusion. But before I can run far and gain any considerable distance the lizard turns around, immediately locking onto my position.
Finally, there's relief when over a hundred of my children mount the beast’s back to attack, and the creature stops to deal with them. Again it repels them with ease, shaking them off like a wet dog before it returns its focus to me. This isn't looking very good.
The monster gives chase, and I'm left with few options for escape. One would think that such a large creature would be easy to out maneuver, but it has already proven its agility. Trying to outrun it in the open was practically suicide. It's either go back underground where we came from, or go into the cave it resides in. Neither seem like good choices, but I can see far more benefit in the cave. Sure we would be trapped in there with it, but depending on the size of the tunnels and caverns we can lower its mobility, and better yet prevent the escape by flight.
The only problem was distance. I am nearly one hundred feet from the entrance to the mountain, and this creature….well this creature is close enough for me to feel its breath.
The instant the creature lunges I teleport, and again, and again, and again, until I can feel the mental drain start to pull on my consciousness. But despite my efforts, I only reached the cave with less than thirty feet between us. Which, based on prior experience, left me with less than five seconds to move or get eaten.
I hurry inside, my heart pounding in my head with each frantic step. Much to my dismay the cave is open enough for the lizard to chase me deep inside, but the darkness is my best chance at survival. There are bones littering the ground just a few dozen feet from the entrance, and I guess that this is about as deep as the lizard usually goes. But there is little time for me to think about how this thing lives when it's pursuing me.
While looking back at the monster I make the mistake of not looking ahead, and crash into a wall, crumpling to the ground in a daze. Forward is nothing but a wall, but a glance to my left reveals a tunnel upwards, and I teleport without hesitation. Right on queue the lizard crashes into the cave wall where I just was, sending shockwaves throughout the entire mountain. Despite the unmistakable dent it’s left in the wall, the monster is quick to get up and continue its pursuit.
The tunnel I now travel through is narrower than the entrance, causing its massive form a bit of a struggle as it pushes its way through the tighter confines. This buys me a few precious moments to catch my breath and plan my next move, which is still to run. My children should catch up soon, but the question is when? How much longer can I hold off this thing?
As I navigate the winding path, I can hear the lizard’s frustrated growls echoing behind me. It's relentless, driven by an insatiable hunger that is focused specifically on me. I know I can't keep running forever. I don't have infinite stamina, the cave is slowly widening again, and I don't know how much more abuse my mind can take.
There is hope though, as I come to a three way split in the path. I care not for the left or right, but the center….the center looks very promising. It's a small tunnel, barely larger than me and far too small for this creature to fit inside. It would be the perfect place of refuge while my children engage the lizard. A mental scan reveals that they are closing in on our position, and my antennae are starting to perk up as all the pieces fall into place. I was right to lead it after me and into the cave. After all, a calculated risk is no risk at all.
Wrong.
I'm within arm's reach of my destination when a powerful wind violently hurls me up and far to the left. I crash into the back wall and bounce off, losing control as I tumble down the left path. There's a loud pop as the carapace on my back connects with the hard ground, and at least two legs are bent horribly out of shape. My breathing is labored, heavy, and I can just barely make out my pursuer rapidly approaching.
I tell myself to move, to get up and fight back, but nothing seems to go my way. I lie limp, twitching, weak and afraid. It hurts all over, and in more ways than one.
The monster seems to take notice of my state as well and slows its pursuit. Rather than go in for a swift kill, it takes its time, roaring and snarling as it approaches.
I lie there, exoskeleton trembling, the breath of the monstrous lizard washing over me. Its massive jaws snap inches from my face, and I squeeze my eyes shut, bracing for the inevitable. My mind screams for it to stop, desperate and pleading.
Then, there's an unexpected pause. The lizard snarls in frustration, and the air around me vibrates with its angry roar. I open my eyes, hesitant and confused.
The creature's claws are mere inches from my face, yet they don't touch me. Instead, they have collided with something invisible, something that stopped its attack cold. The lizard swipes again and again, but both blows are blocked by an unseen barrier. It can't understand what's happening, and neither can I.
A multi sided shape of dark energy surrounds me, blending almost perfectly with the dark cave. The creature, despite having some ability to see in the dark like us, cannot seem to comprehend or see the barrier around me. I can count twelve sides on the odd cube, and it holds strong through an additional hit, the creature's confusion growing as it simply stares me down.
It decides to go for one last attack with its mouth, and this time I decide not to stick around and see if my little shield will stop the jaws of this monstrosity. I manage one last teleport further away and down the path, but it's rather futile as I travel a far shorter distance than usual. I'm ready to accept my face as I hear another one of the lizard's roars, but it's not directed at me.
The second wave of my children have arrived, swarming over the lizard with a ferocity born of nothing but pure desperation. They attack with relentless determination, likely knowing that it would come after me if left alone. Several others who are not part of the wave rush to my side, determined to bandage my wounds and carry me to safety.
But truth be told, there is no safety. The lizard blocks the only known way down from this part of the cave, and it will no doubt take a swipe at me if I try to sneak past. My children take me through the tight center path that I was eyeing before, into another section of the cave that is both massive and empty, but ultimately a dead-end. There's little I can do now, except observe and wait for results. I'm trapped here with my children, destined to win or die.
A look outside reveals that the creature, though momentarily distracted by their sudden assault, still manages to fend them off with brutal efficiency. It crushes and devours, its movements a deadly dance of destruction. The tighter space restricts its full combat capabilities, but all it takes is a spin or swipe of its hand to crush dozens.
Wave three is wiped out as quickly as wave two, and the swapping of waves is becoming more based on how fast the previous one was wiped out rather than my given intervals. In the blink of an eye we're on wave seven, and despite them having the most promising chance at a successful attack when they catch the lizard from below, the creature flaps its massive wings and everyone is blown away or squashed into a pulp. It's now that I realize that this very same wind is what incapacitated me just minutes earlier.
My heart and antennae continue to sink as I witness the bloodshed, the loss of my precious children starting to weigh heavily on me. I feel their pain, their fear, their desperation. With each passing minute, our probability of winning diminishes, the creature barely tiring like I planned, but no matter how bleak, I refuse to let despair take hold. It's not like we were completely at a loss.
I just needed to find a way out, a way to win. It's my duty, my responsibility as Queen….and I think it's time I did my job.
“Give me a status report.” I ask my bulky daughter, a survivor of the most recent wave.
"Mother, we've managed to damage the creature and its movements have slowed down, but it's too strong! We're down to almost half of what we started with.”
“Damage…what do you mean by damage?” Depending on the extent, there's a chance of victory.
“We've pried off a few scales and pierced its underbelly, but every time we get close to causing any serious harm, the creature retaliates tenfold, wiping out many of our own before we can get close."
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“So tell your brothers and sisters to fall back and regroup out of sight. The next three waves will attack as one thirty seconds after regrouping. We have to incapacitate it somehow or some way.”
My daughter nods and leaves to tell her younger siblings, my commands spreading like a wildfire. In under a minute everyone has withdrawn to safety, leaving the serpent confused yet again as its attackers seemingly retreat.
However, just when the serpent thought it had successfully suppressed us, a whole new wave appears from above. It's massive, a combined force made up of nearly sixty percent of my remaining children. Incessant buzzing fills the cave, and for the first time since the start of this battle, morale is at a high.
My strongest daughters are the first to engage the lizard, doing their duty to hold the lizard's attention. With a single swipe of its massive claws half of them are immediately crushed beneath its large limbs, but they have done their job. Dozens upon dozens of my children find their way onto its back, wings, and even its face. It lets out a roar, this time in pain, and once again attempts to shake them off. But this time around things are different. They are prepared for the maneuver, and many manage to cling on and continue the attack.
Desperation kicks in, and the creature slams itself into a wall, successfully crushing at least a hundred of my children at once. Of course, that isn't enough to stop us, and it's almost as if the creature can read my mind because it goes for a second slam on the other side, before doing a complete roll to clear its entire body.
But it isn't done there. No, it lets out a roar, realizing that there are still some alive. The lizard raises its tail and pounds the ground once before it swiftly spins and sweeps its tail across the ground. It's hurting itself in the process, scales flying everywhere, but the damage we suffer is much, much worse. Hundreds of exoskeletons break and shatter at the impact. Limbs fly everywhere in the cave and yellowish blood soaks the already bloodied wall as if someone had painted it that way.
There's nothing I can do but stare in awe, not at the creature's display of strength and athleticism, but at the remains of my children plastered on the wall. I feel no remorse for the hundreds of dead, but rather a disappointment in my children and most importantly myself. All that effort, all that time, and we still can't beat this thing?
“Mother, what do we do next?” My other daughter asks this time.
Truth be told, I can't answer her. I'm at a loss as to what should happen next. We've finally arrived at the point where we've dealt the damage that needed to be done, but we lack the ability to make any sort of finishing blow. Too many dead, too many injured, and no one has any motivation after our swift and devastating loss seconds ago. I feel like a failure, the crushing weight of guilt threatening to paralyze me. How many more of my children will die and accomplish nothing because of my decisions? Because I wasn't strong enough, fast enough, or smart enough? The screams and the agony of those sacrificed replay in my mind, each one a reminder of my inadequacy.
But I cannot allow myself to break. Not now. Not when so many depend on me. I have to be their strength, their hope. I have to make all these sacrifices mean something.
My surviving children look to me with a mixture of fear and expectation. I must show them that this battle isn’t over yet, that we can still turn the tide.
“Mother! What do we do? My daughter asks again, snapping me out of my moment.
"Send the next wave in. I have…I have a plan. Composition doesn't matter, I just need its attention to be held."
“Mother, I don't have enough siblings in good enough condition to make another wave. There are too many injured. I don't think we can win. I..I'm sorry for presenting this as an option for our home.” My daughter replies, her optimistic attitude absolutely crushed after our massive losses.
“We have spent too much here to give up now. We must win, or we will perish.
Add the least injured to cover the dead. We….” I pause. “We will not yield.”
***
Following my commands, the next wave emerges with a mix of the least injured and fresh reinforcements. They surge forward, a desperate but determined force, and the serpent's singular eye focuses its attention towards them immediately. But wait….a singular eye? How had I forgotten?
Reminded of the lizard's vulnerability I come up with an option, just one, that depends entirely on my ability to aim. It's honestly more risky than safe, considering how close I need to get for it to work, but if nothing is ventured nothing is gained.
As my foe engaged with the new wave, I prepared myself, drawing in whatever energy remained for what I hoped would be a decisive strike.
This was my chance. The creature had stopped expecting an attack from me long ago, and rightfully so. But it failed to take into account that we too were backed into a corner, forced to use whatever means we could to survive.
“Carry me. Carry me as close as you can to the lizard.” I command some of the injured who have crept into my hiding place, and they look at me in a two toned fear. Fear for themselves, but more importantly fear for me.
“Mother, it is too dangerous, you can't go!” One of them pipes up, the others nodding in affirmation.
“I don't care. Carry me.” I say sternly, my children rushing to their feet to obey my command.
Following my instructions they fly just shy of ten feet from the lizard, and I'm able to see the damage it has sustained up close. It's slower now, its movements packing less punch than before. Yet it's still enough to obliterate my children, but they had done their part in weakening its defenses and holding its attention. It was up to me to deliver the critical blow.
I began to focus, my hands glowing with intense, fiery energy. The serpent, preoccupied with the onslaught of my children, fails to notice my preparations. With a final, focused effort, I unleashed a massive fireball, aiming directly for the creature's eye. The backlash for such a large demonstration of power is intense and I nearly collapse on top of my children in an exhausted heap, but the attack has already been made.
The creature, catching the flare of red in the corner of its eye, turns towards me, but that is exactly what I wanted it to do. The fireball soars through the air, a blazing beacon of hope and it strikes true, colliding with the serpent's eye in an explosion of fire and heat. The creature lets out an ear-piercing shriek, thrashing wildly as it recoils from the impact. Its eye was now a smoldering ruin, and the monster flails blindly, losing its sense of direction and coordination.
“Now! Attack while it's weak!” I shout as long as I can. The serpent, blinded and disoriented, was finally vulnerable. With renewed vigor, my children swarmed the creature, their combined efforts overwhelming it as it struggled to cope with the searing pain.
Victory was within our grasp. At least I thought it was.
The creature lets out yet another threatening roar and spreads its wings, clearly ready to flap them. It lacks any sort of sight after the loss of its eye, but it still prepares to make a last stand and slaughter even more. However, rather than make another attack the creature looks up, even though it has no eyes. It's solely focused on whatever is above, and stops fighting back altogether. It's only now that I notice this particular section of the cave has an opening up above that leads to the outside, and then it dawns on me. This lizard plans to run away.
"Do not let it escape! Do whatever you can to stop it from flying! Everyone! Bite its wings and their roots! I don't care what you do, weigh it down if you have to!" I screech, my raspy voice echoing in the room.
Immediately my smallest daughters fly in and begin spraying their webs at it in an attempt to anchor it down, but a beat of its wings sends the webs flying away and them along with it. It begins to grab hold of the cave walls, likely to pull itself up and out. All of my children make a final last ditch attempt to try and take it down, going for its wings even if it means getting in the way of its flaps and getting knocked out. The full force of the colony flies at the monster at my command.
Dozens upon dozens dive headfirst into the creature's wings when it expands and some cut through the thinner gliding flaps. Many die upon impact, but they make room as they cut open bigger and bigger scars on its wings until, to everyone's surprise a wing comes clean off. The serpent falls over to the side from the sudden imbalance shift in its body and I realize that it's now or never.
"Kill it now, strike before it can regain its balance! Don't give it time to move!" I scream, attempting to sit up and get a better look.
With my command, and the motivation from the draw of blood, all of my remaining children jump on the serpent and return to their attack on its already wounded belly. Their combined efforts bear fruit as they finally manage to pierce its thick skin. In a frenzied rush, many cram themselves into the hole, opting to eat the lizard from the inside out. It makes a few more attempts to save itself with sweeps of its tail in a circle, but the damage is already done. With a final slow spin, it lets out a weak groan and collapses just seconds later. The creature is lifeless, twitching only when my children eat through its muscles and nerves.
Victory was ours. The serpent is dead, the mountain belongs to us.
***
Gruesome and painful it was, but we had managed to come out on top in the end. What started as two thousand had been reduced to a mere six hundred in the face of this creature. Looking over the cave, it was honestly such a mess. Blood was splattered everywhere, corpses littered the ground, but we had won, and that was all that mattered. None of my children's deaths were in vain. A new home had been acquired, one that couldn't be burned to the ground.
Yet this cave was just the start. We would expand and go further beyond this dark and dreary place. We would find, or create a place to call home indefinitely. And then there was the Brotherhood. I would give them my regards eventually.
But for now, it was time to settle down and celebrate. We had just felled an enemy several times our size. I for one was exhausted, both mentally and physically. Sure my children could wrap open wounds in their silk, but there was little they could do to alleviate the pain of my broken legs. That being said, I wouldn't let my condition stop us all from enjoying the moment.
"Feast my children, feast! There is more than enough to feed us all several times over! You have earned every last bit of this meal! Today we have acquired a new home, one that the humans cannot destroy, and it is all thanks to all of you! You have protected me, as well as your brothers and sisters. I am very, very proud of you all!" I praise.
Except that no one listens to my command to partake of the serpent. Although a banquet is before the colony's eyes, all of them sit and observe. My children watch me in anticipation, and I realize that they are likely waiting for me to take the first bite, to make my choice of the creature's flesh before they decide to take theirs. Not wanting to waste any time, I settle on the most simple option.
"I will take the lifeblood of the serpent. I will take just the heart. The blood that flowed through it has now run dry in light of your achievements. We will celebrate our victory with the flesh and bones our enemy tried so hard to protect!" I announce.
An echo of chirps and crickets fill the cave as they dislodge the heart from its body and present it to me. It was literally quite as big as me. Face to face, the top of my antennae would probably meet the top of the heart if I could stand. It drips red and lifeless, proof of our victory over the giant lizard. All my children wait as they watch you feast on its heart. At long last I partake, and I can't tell if it's because you're I'm an insect, or I just love eating, but the heart was as delectable as feasting on humans. The children then celebrate in turn and get to work on its corpse.
They won't finish it all, not for a few days, but that's fine. I had requested the heart, but it was obviously much too big for me to consume the entire thing in one sitting. Whatever was left once I had finished was added on to the massive pile of food that was the lizard.
While my children feasted, I found myself a quiet corner in the cave, away from the noise and frenzy. I needed to rest and recover, to gather my strength for what lay ahead. Despite the victory, the losses weighed heavily on my heart. So many of my children had perished in this battle, their lives sacrificed for our survival.
As I lay there, the pain from my broken legs and the exhaustion from the intense battle began to take their toll. My vision blurred, and I could feel the edges of my consciousness starting to fray. I had pushed myself to the brink, and now my body demanded rest.
I struggled to sit up, wincing at the pain in my legs. My daughter, the one who had voiced her doubts during the battle, was by my side in an instant.
"Mother, you need to rest," she said, her voice filled with concern.
"I will, my dear," I replied, reaching out to touch her face. "But we must also prepare. This victory is just the beginning. There are many more battles ahead. We must be ready."
She nodded, her eyes filled with a newfound determination. "We will be ready, Mother. We will fight and survive, no matter what."
I smiled, feeling a surge of pride. My children were strong and resilient, and together, we would face whatever challenges came our way. We would rebuild, we would grow, and we would ensure that our colony thrived.
"Rest now, all of you," I called out to my children. "We have earned this moment of peace, but tomorrow we begin anew. We will heal, we will strengthen, and we will continue to fight for our survival."
As the words left my mouth, a sudden wave of exhaustion swept over me, far more intense than before. My vision darkened, and I felt my body go limp. I tried to call out, to tell my daughter that something was wrong, but the words wouldn't come. The world around me faded to black, and I collapsed to the ground.
The last thing I saw was my daughter's face, filled with fear and concern, before everything went dark.
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Degenerate Serpent(Lesser)
The beings known as Degenerate Serpents are considered lesser dragons. They physically resemble their brothers because they have almost all the same basic features, including reptilian appearance and majestic wings. However, the fact is that on a psychic level there are significant differences between them. First, unlike dragons, Serpents are not immortal. They age like any living thing. Put simply, their bodies grow but they do not gain special powers; they only get bigger and stronger. They are a perfectly natural creature like a cow or lion. Second, they lack supernatural abilities and the dragon’s signature breath weapon. Finally, they are also less intelligent, and although they can sometimes learn to understand other languages, they do not have the physical ability to speak. Fortunately not all their abilities are inferior. Since their survival depends on their physical prowess, Serpents have developed a fighting capacity that rivals, or sometimes almost surpasses, that of a similarly-sized dragon.
There are two types of Degenerate Serpents, Lesser and Greater, titles used to classify its size.
Directs: 2 Type A(Wasp): 0 Type B(Beetle): 1 Type C(Spider): 1 Type Z(Larvae): 0 Indirects: 646 Type A(Wasp): 113 Type B(Beetle): 215 Type C(Spider): 59 Type Z(Larvae): 259