The fort was in tatters, the wall no more than a heap of rubble, several shops and homes completely obliterated along with many of the NPC residents of Ashvale, never to respawn again. But what froze the hearts of all who watched wasn’t the destruction wrought by the wyrm, it was the sight of the swarm.

They came in waves, an endless tide of dark chitin, their details fading with the setting sun. Hundreds of Vescarid poured from the tree line, their forms moving with a united precision that felt otherworldly. Drones scuttled forward first, their mandibles clicking as they converged on the fallen wyrm, their bodies disappearing beneath its massive form as they began carving it apart. Pieces of the beast were torn away, and carted off by drones in synchronized formation, their movements entirely robotic to the players who gazed on in horror.

Alongside them stood the hunters, their barbed appendages poised, their sharp eyes locked onto the humans beyond the broken walls. They formed an unyielding line, their posture daring anyone to step forward. The razor maw were in constant motion, a swarm of leaping forms darting to and fro, patrolling the area around the carcass like a raging river of carapace, teeth, and claws.

The sheer scale of the operation defied comprehension. The wyrm had been enormous, yet the Vescarid dismantled it with ease, their collective strength reducing the once-mighty beast to nothing more than meat and bone. It wasn’t just terrifying, it was unreal, like watching a colony of ants on meth as they tore apart an anaconda.

Caledryn stood on the crumbling remains of the eastern wall, his hands gripping the hilt of his sword as he struggled to maintain composure. Around him, his soldiers whispered in hushed tones, their voices tinged with both awe and fear.

“This... this is impossible,” one of them muttered. “How can there be so many?”

“They’re coordinated,” another said, their voice shaking. “They move like an army. Like...”

“Like they’re planning for something bigger,” Caledryn finished grimly.

Beside him, Orion’s jaw tightened as he watched the razor maw weave through the hunters, their movements almost hypnotic in their ferocity. “We’re not prepared for this,” he said quietly. “If they’d turned their attention on us instead of the wyrm...”

“They didn’t,” Caledryn interrupted. “And that’s the only reason we’re still standing. But we can’t afford to assume that mercy will last.”

Sasha and her remaining guildmates stood at the edge of the battlefield, their faces pale as they took in the scene. This was more than they had ever imagined.

“I... I thought we already encountered the full force of the Vescarid,” Ivy whispered, her voice barely audible. “At the hive. During the ambush. But this... this is exponentially greater.”

“Is this even the same swarm?” Jax asked, his normally steady voice uncharacteristically shaky. “Darian never brought this many. Never moved like this. Compared to what they are doing now, our battle was no more than a toddler’s playdate.”

“This is the true might of the swarm,” Sasha said, her voice grim, her breath stolen from her.

Jax looked at her sharply, but he couldn’t find the words to refute her. The Vescarid moved with such purpose, it was as though the remaining human forces were nothing to them, their line of archers and infantry merely a formality in defense of their prey.

“They’re not attacking us,” Ivy pointed out, though her tone was far from reassuring. “They could have wiped us out already, but they haven’t.”

“Not yet,” Sasha muttered. She glanced toward the wreckage of the fort, where the Vanguard stood frozen in place, their weapons held limply at their sides. “But we’re not the priority. Not right now.”

Darian stepped forward from the tree-line, his figure framed by the mass of his forces. The serpentine forms of his magic-casting brood coiled around him, their eyes glowing faintly in the dim light. His gaze swept over the battlefield, taking in the broken walls, the terrified humans, and the ruin of the wyrm.

He could feel the tension in the air, the weight of hundreds of eyes on him. But he didn’t falter.

“Maintain the harvest,” he ordered, his voice calm despite the storm of emotion beating down on him from both the humans and his own feelings. “The wyrm is ours. Let no human interfere with the harvest.”

The broodmothers’ voices hummed in his mind, their thoughts laced with approval. They fear us, as they should.

Darian’s gaze turned toward the shattered gates of Ashvale, where the remnants of the Vanguard and militia huddled together, their weapons still raised in a feeble defense. Among them, he spotted Caledryn, his sharp features set defiant despite the overwhelming forces Darian possessed. Nearby, Sasha and her guild stood frozen, their expressions bordering defiant, but the fear spilled from their pours and set his instincts on edge.

“They will want answers,” Darian murmured, almost to himself. “And they will have them. But first...”

He gestured toward Sasha, Caledryn, and Fayne, his voice carrying across the battlefield with an authority that left no room for argument. “You. Step forward. We have much to discuss.”

Darian stood atop the remnants of the wyrm’s colossal form as it gradually decreased into bone and tooth, the glow of the moon casting an ethereal light across his chitinous frame. His brood swarmed around him, never getting close enough to disturb the king, but focused deep in their work as they stripped the creature of its valuable biomass. It was a scene of overwhelming might, hundreds of Vescarid pouring out from hidden tunnels and trapdoors, their forms glinting under the pale light as they worked tirelessly. Hunters formed an impenetrable wall between the humans and the harvest, while the swift and predatory Razormaw darted in ceaseless patrols, their movements a blur of disciplined chaos.

Caledryn, Sasha, and Fayne stood at the broken gates of Ashvale, flanked by a contingent of Vanguard soldiers. Behind them, the ruins of their fort stood on a shaky foundation, ready to collapse at a moment's notice thanks to the wyrm’s destructive power, its smoldering remains crumpled proudly, having provided the village with just enough defense to keep the majority of the civilians alive. Despite everything, it was worth it for the guild to get involved. Without them, it’s true the wyrm may not have awoken, but when it did, the village would have been cleared with a single slash of its tail.

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Darian descended from the wyrm’s carcass with grace, his glowing purple eyes meeting those of the humans who dared to watch. His voice carried across the distance, cold and calculated. “You see now the strength of my hive, the force I wield. The question before us is not what I can offer you, but what you can offer me.”

Caledryn stepped forward, his armor reflecting the dim light as he met Darian’s gaze. “You saved Ashvale tonight,” he began, his voice steady despite the unease rippling through his ranks. “That alone shows your strength. But there’s a greater threat, the other swarm. The Brutes.”

Darian tilted his head, his serpentine companions coiling tighter around his frame as he considered Caledryn’s words. “Yes,” he said, his tone laced with curiosity. “Their actions are... troubling. But why should I align myself with you against them? What do humans offer that my hive does not already possess?”

Sasha, ever bold, stepped forward, her sword sheathed but her stance defiant. “If you’re fighting them, it’s not just for us. It’s for survival. If the Brutes aren’t stopped, they’ll destroy everything. Even your hive won’t be safe from their hunger.”

Darian’s mandibles clicked softly, a sound of contemplation. “Survival,” he repeated, the word dripping with a mixture of disdain and understanding. “Whose to say we do not join forces? Are they not my kin? Can we not see eye to eye? If there is to be survival, there often demands sacrifice. What are you willing to sacrifice for my allegiance?”

The silence that followed was deafening until Fayne, her voice trembling but resolute, broke it. “You said we were the same,” she began, stepping out from the shadow of her allies. “When you captured me, you told me that you were like me, human. You can’t deny it.”

Darian’s glowing eyes flickered, the calculated mask slipping for a fraction of a second as his humanity lay bare. “Human,” he murmured, the word tasting foreign on his tongue despite the numerous times he spoke it. He straightened, his gaze piercing as he addressed Fayne directly. “You are perceptive, Fayne. Yes, I am half-human, half-Vescarid. A hybrid born of war and ambition.”

The revelation hit the Vanguard like a ton of bricks. Whispers rippled through the Vanguard ranks as Caledryn’s expression darkened. Sasha’s eyes narrowed, her hand instinctively moving closer to her blade. Only Fayne held her ground, her expression softening as she pushed forward to meet the king.

Darian continued, his tone heavy with conflicting emotions. “I have fought wars within myself, battling the pull of humanity and the Vescarid instincts to consume and conquer. Every choice I make teeters on the edge of those dual natures.”

Fayne stepped closer, her voice earnest. “Then let that humanity guide you now. You don’t have to choose conquest. You can protect, and work with us to stop the Brutes. Together, we can end this.”

Darian’s gaze swept over the humans, lingering on Fayne. “If I find the Brutes’ actions just,” he said slowly, “then you will face the combined might of two hives. But if their purpose is chaos, I will act. I will judge them. Until then, the path remains uncertain.”

Caledryn’s jaw tightened, his nails digging into the flesh of his palms. He forced himself to speak. “And if we offer you a place here? Not as an enemy, but as an ally? What would it take for you to stand with us now?”

Darian’s serpents shifted, their glow intensifying as he tilted his head in curiosity. “Citizenship? Humanity has much to learn of trust. I will consider your offer. But first, I must reach out to the other hive. Their purpose must be made clear.”

Darian’s proclamation was declared, his glowing eyes narrowing as he scrutinized the humans. He stepped further to meet with Fayne. His swarm remained steadfast behind him, stripping the wyrm at an alarming speed. It had only been minutes, possibly 30, likely less, and the body of the beast was mostly bone at this point.

The humans were broken, he could sense it in their posture, their hushed voices, their stolen glances at his forces. Yet, beneath that fear, there was a spark, a faint glimmer of hope.

Fayne’s voice rose again, her earlier courage bolstered by the faint stirrings of humanity she saw in him. “You don’t have to judge them alone, Darian. Let us help you. If they’re a threat to us all, then fighting them together is our only chance.”

Darian turned his gaze to Fayne, his mandibles twitching slightly, it wasn’t often he let them be exposed for this long. He felt a curious nature swelling inside of him, a form of... intrigue. “Your trust is commendable but foolish,” he said coldly. “Humans have long sought power above all else. What makes you any different from them?”

“Because I’ve seen what power does,” Fayne shot back, stepping closer. “And I know it can be used for more than destruction. You saved this village, Darian. Not for conquest, not for domination. You did it because something in you, something human, knew it was right.”

Sasha took a cautious step forward, her usual bravado tempered by the gravity of the moment. “We’re not here to take your hive’s place or strip you of your power,” she said. “But the Brutes are different. They’ll devour everything. If you won’t fight for us, fight for your own survival.”

Darian’s gaze lingered on Sasha, then returned to Fayne. “You speak of survival as though it is a simple thing. You plead for my aid against a foe you fear more than me. Yet, you still grasp your weapons when I speak. What trust should I place in you?”

Caledryn, his fists still clenched, finally found his voice. “Trust is earned, not given,” he said firmly. “You’ve proven your strength, Darian. We’ve seen it. But if you’re as torn as you say, between humanity and conquest, then this is your chance to choose. Stand with us. Fight alongside us.”

Darian’s serpentine companions flared briefly, their colors brightening as his thoughts churned. He could feel the collective anxiety of his hive, the broodmothers whispering caution and strength into his mind. The humans were weak, disorganized, and emotional, yet there was a strange allure to their persistence, their resilience against insurmountable odds.

“I will speak with the Brutes,” Darian said, his voice cutting through the tension. “But understand this: if their actions align with purpose, with order, then I will not strike them down. My allegiance is to survival, not yours, but my own and my hive’s. Prove yourselves useful to me, humans, and I may reconsider. I can, however, promise you that despite their intentions, I will not attack you. I will make my own home, and forge my own path. If they are worth the risk of destruction, I will join you. That is my deal.”

The humans exchanged uneasy glances, the weight of his words sinking in. Fayne stepped closer still, her voice soft but resolute. “You’ve already chosen, Darian,” she said. “You saved Ashvale. You didn’t have to, but you did. That wasn’t conquest. That was something else. Something human.”

Darian’s gaze locked onto Fayne, the faintest flicker of emotion crossing his chitinous face. “Perhaps,” he said quietly, almost to himself. “Perhaps humanity is not as distant as I believed.”

He turned sharply, his serpentine companions flaring one last time before coiling back into place. “Return to your fort. Strengthen your defenses. If you wish to prove your worth, do so. I will decide whether your kind deserves my trust or my wrath.”

Without waiting for a response, Darian gestured to his forces, and the swarm began to retreat, disappearing into the forest as quickly as they had appeared. The elder wyrm was now only a steaming pile of bones, though the bones would be of exceptional value, he had taken all he needed. Only the lingering shadows of his presence and the guttural echoes of his brood’s retreat remained.

As silence reclaimed Ashvale, Caledryn turned to Sasha and Fayne. “He’s testing us,” he said grimly. “If we fail, we’ll face more than just the Brutes.”

Sasha responded, her expression conflicted. “Then we don’t fail. We find a way to make him see we’re worth standing with, not against.”

Fayne said nothing, her gaze fixed on the horizon where Darian and his swarm had vanished. In her heart, she felt the faint stirrings of hope, but also the weight of a dangerous gamble.