They were fourteen in light grey cloaks unfit for the extreme cold, their boots dragging through the snow as they ran up the slope. Sparrow had seen the scouts of the Silver Ant Battalions before; he’d worked with them on many occasions to dismantle a Swarm nest methodically, and the General always favoured their fleet-footedness in battles that required messengers to relay information between outposts. The species the scouts’ systems were based on, the ‘Sharaji Silver Ants’, were the fastest ants on the entire continent after all—catching up to a silver ant scout on foot was as difficult as defeating a carpenter ant builder in brute strength, or besting a mortar ant troop in raw spore shedding ability.
It was more than strange, then, that he and the rest of the Worm Mages were staring down at them being chased by a horde of forty Boreus. Even stranger was the fact they weren’t exactly widening the gap. Both runners and pursuers looked like they were at the end of their ropes from exhaustion, but at the current rate, the Boreus would clean up the scouts before they could ever reach Immanu.
The slope was terrifically steep, after all.
Even Sparrow didn’t think, with his current strain limit, that he could physically trudge up from the sea of clouds a thousand metres below to where he was now.
“... Arrows, draw!” Ninmah shouted, her warping voice rippling through the air behind them, and the elders nocked arrows onto their bows at once.
Sparrow whirled on her with his eyes snapped wide open, snatching her hand before she could give the signal to shoot—and the earnest, genuinely puzzled look she gave him made his lips thin into a line.
“If we do nothing, scouts will be caught by Boreus and die,” he said, his eyes unfocused as he glanced down at the scouts once again. “But if scouts die, Boreus will not likely attack up. If there is chance Boreus really do not know where Immanu is, and last invasion was just freak accident, then we can stay hidden. No Boreus threat.”
Ninmah stared at him for a long time, her expression troubled. “So we shouldn’t help them? We should just watch them die right in front of us?”
“Yes,” he replied plainly. “Help scouts now, we may not be able to kill all Boreus safely. Some may even retreat. Then the rest will know where we live. Fourteen scouts not worth hundred and eleven. Besides, we not know why there are scouts so far up. They could be dangerous–”
It happened at the same time. Eighteen elders slapped him on the head with slinkies and fistfuls of snow, hands moving so fast his vibrational senses gave him no warning at all, and while he coughed and hacked and tried to wipe it all off his head, they rose to their feet with their bows in hand.
And what he saw when he looked up at them were pale, incontrovertibly fearful faces—but in the moonlight, they, too, were unshakable, immovable faces that made his ‘rationality’ appear childish in comparison.
He remained silent, but he couldn’t hide the flinch on his face when Ninmah offered him a helping hand up, either.
“First and only rule of Immanu: we save everyone we can save,” she said, her smile returning in full force, albeit a little strained. “We helped you even though you’ve been nothing but a slow learner. Maybe we’ll help a few people who are actually talented this time, hm?”
“...”
Grimacing, he pulled out his bayonet rifle and jumped off the precipice first, landing heel first in the snow as he began sliding down the slope.
The eighteen elders followed him with a chorus of whoops and warping shouts, distorting the air around them as much as possible to attract the Boreus’ attention. They were three hundred metres from the nearest scout, and several of them had already fallen, torn apart by the Boreus behind them. Sparrow’s mind raced to think of a strategy to deal with all forty of them without letting even a single one of them get away—Ninmah’s theory that the Boreus might not be connected to each other via pheromones could be correct, after all. Letting even one get away could mean revealing the Immanu’s location to the entire nest.
But half the elders are already tired after an entire day of hunting, he thought. Even they do not have endless stamina. Forty Boreus is a lot to contest with in melee, and even with their bows, they might accidentally hit the scouts standing in the way of their targets.
Think.
Is there a way to kill all forty?
…
… A hundred metres.
Two hundred metres.
By the time they picked up enough momentum to be sliding down at twenty metres a second, shouting and singing so loud that even the battered silver ant scouts noticed them approaching, Sparrow finished steeling his resolve.
“Do not use bows!” he shouted, angling his head to glare at the elders behind him. “Deposit all free points in strength, and on my mark, each of us pick and jump at one Boreus! Use heavy blunt force!”
The elders all fixed him with their glittering gazes, but they didn’t argue. Fifty metres to the nearest Boreus. One of the silver ant scouts made eye contact with him as he kicked off from the snow, going into free fall with his rifle turned around—and with both hands gripped onto the barrel, he sucked in a deep breath through his nose.
Unlocked the tier three mutation in the middle.
[T3 Mutation Unlocked: Rigid Annuli]
[Unallocated Points: 165 → 15]
The skin across his entire body tightened, pale chitin rings forming along his arms and legs every five or so centimetres and hardening into armour. They were like tattoos he’d never noticed on the Worm Mages because they were already so pale, but on him, he was sure it looked like his limbs were now segmented, his skin brighter where the rings gave his limbs additional toughness; if something wanted his arm broken, not only would he have to be hit hard enough to shatter the bones in his forearm, but he’d also have to be hit hard enough to shatter the rigid annuli circling around his bones like he was wearing slinkies around his arms.
This additional toughness wasn’t measured in a numerical attribute level, but he could just tell that even if he were to crash into a Boreus’ head at terminal speed, his body would be just fine.
…Brace for impact.
Together, as nineteen with the worm system, they each bowled straight into a Boreus feet-first and slammed the giant insects to the ground. The slope couldn’t take the sudden jolt of impact. Heaving, groaning, the entire side of the blackrock mountain rumbled before snow gave way, and an avalanche started making everything slide down; there were no exceptions made for Worm Mages, Boreus, or silver ant scouts.
While Sparrow caved in his Boreus’ head with the stock of his rifle, he raised a finger to the sky before pressing it against his lips—he only hoped the Worm Mages saw his message as the entire slope washed down like a tidal wave, dragging them seven hundred metres down into the sea of clouds.
Do not breathe.
Do not make a sound.
Just ride this out.
It was easier said than done, of course. Stabbing his bayonet into the Boreus like a lever, he rode its carcass down for what felt like minutes through dizzying tumbles, nauseating flips, and rocky bumps and slides where there were boulders jutting out of the slope—but the moment the avalanche came to a halt where the slope was only inclined at a forty degree angle, he found himself completely surrounded by a cold sea of clouds.
The border between the surface world and the worm world.
Here, he could barely see his hand stretched out in front of him. It was a snow-white fog everywhere he turned to look, and so the air was wet, it was heavy, only the occasional flashes of moonlight bouncing through the clouds illuminating the world around him. It was quiet. The only sound he could hear was his heart pounding in his ears. He was certain that even the Boreus, with their antennae, was most likely completely blind and deaf in this border ‘in-between’ worlds.
… Nineteen of us, forty of them.
If we already killed nineteen of them with our first impact, the Worm Mages each only need to kill one more.
Stolen novel; please report.
I can handle the stragglers.
Closing his eyes, he pushed his vibrational senses down into the snow—through the carcass, through the earth, and felt a giant Boreus trying to pull itself out of the snow several metres to his left, its black legs flailing aimlessly around. He didn’t hesitate for a second. He warped over and ran his bayonet between its eyes, killing it before it could have a chance to regain its footing and start cleaving through the sea of clouds.
One down.
And the rest?
Yanking his bayonet out, he knelt on the snow and felt the slope with his palm, listening deeply. Pushing aside the silver ant scouts trying to crawl to their feet, what could he hear? What could he feel? He felt he saw their shadows, he felt he saw them aiming their bows point-blank in their enemies’ faces—calmness and tranquillity poured out the Worm Mages’ skin as they picked off their first targets in the fog, one by one by one, with none of the fear or exhaustion they’d shown before making up their resolve to help the scouts. In an instant, fifteen more Boreus perished, their dying screeches barely audible, their vibrations fading into the snow.
Five more.
Where?
He walked slowly and carefully across the slope, tapping his bayonet on the snow to create his own vibrations; there should’ve been eighteen kills in the volley just now, not fifteen. Did three of the Worm Mages miss?
So he continued trudging forward, feeling he was getting closer… to where he needed to be.
His skin tingled, his eyes caught movement seven metres down the slope. A Worm Mage was shuffling back on their rear, trembling with their broken bow in their hands as their targeted Boreus failed to die in a single shot. He barely managed to warp in and sever its leg as it stabbed down at the Worm Mage, the talon still grazing the side of his cheek. He withdrew a few steps, pulling the fallen Worm Mage back to safety while wiping the blood with his finger.
The Boreus lifted its head and roared, a mighty bellow that made the fog part around its body, but that only made its location clear to everyone in the vicinity. A dozen arrows pummelled it from every conceivable angle as the Worm Mages came to his reinforcement, but only one well-placed shot to the head was needed to fell it in an instant. Through the fog, he thought he spotted Utu winking at him with three arrows still nocked at once; the boy was the best archer and hunter amongst the elders, after all.
… Four more Boreus.
They must have gotten up already–
He sucked in a sharp breath and whirled, raising his forearm to block. His rigid annuli saved his head from being shattered as a Boreus rammed into him, but he couldn’t disguise the pained expression on his face as he heard the nasty crack in his arm. Leaning forward to warp, he reappeared above the giant bug’s head and plunged his bayonet down, kicking off immediately after when two more Boreus charged out of the fog, their antennae swishing around for a second before locking onto his exact position in the air.
Warping away would’ve been an easy task, but ten shots rang out in quick succession, most missing the Boreus’ vitals. It was only when the giant insects whirled to screech at the new challengers that a barrage of bullets met them head-on again, slamming hard into their chitin until two bullets eventually found their way between the Boreus’ eyes—and all three Giants fell, sliding slowly down the slope as the sea of clouds swallowed all sound.
…
Sparrow landed deftly, resisting the urge to clutch his bruised right arm as he gripped his rifle in his left. Still kneeling atop the carcass of the Boreus he’d stabbed, he turned his face still as a pond on a windless night; he stared through the fog in silence, because any movement and any sound he made would alert them to his position.
And, ever so slowly, he caught the eight of them trudging up the slope towards him, advancing in an arrow formation with their rifles raised and poised to fire.
… If they are silver ant scouts sent by the General, then they are most likely working on kill-on-sight orders.
He took a deep, steadying breath and looked at the front of the battalion. The silver ant scouts that emerged from the fog as they neared him wore light grey coats that dragged through the snow, as he’d already seen, but up close he also noticed they were abnormally underequipped—they weren’t wearing reserve ammo pouches, they carried no rucksacks over their backs, and there were heavy bags under their sunken eyes as though they hadn’t had a good night’s rest in weeks. That last part was rather common for silver ant scouts who were often sent on expeditions deep into Swarm territory, but they were even more weary than that. He wasn’t even taking into account the bloody stains across their cloaks and uniforms underneath; as of right now, all they had with them were their rifles, their training, and their willpower to accomplish the mission they’d been tasked with.
Their mission was irrelevant to him and his.
I will keep Immanu hidden, and I will return to the Forward Army by myself once I have gathered enough information about the worm system.
Maybe… I cannot do both.
Maybe the Worm Mages must be revealed if I have to explain what has happened to me, and their peaceful lives will be forever shattered by the Empire’s desire to use them for war.
… But still I must try.
Now wasn’t the time for the silver ant scouts to barge into Immanu uninvited. They were still healthy enough to walk and to hold their rifles. All they needed was a lot of motivation to turn around and return to the General, and, on that front, he felt he had it handled.
The moment they got close enough to see his shadow perched atop the carcass, he warped to the side and kicked up a rifle dropped by one of their dead, snapping the barrel down at them.
Standard issue silver ant scout anti-patrol rifle. Seven round capacity. Swing bolt for ejecting and chambering.
Doable.
The eight silver ant scouts whirled at him at once, but he fired seven times before they could even fire once, shooting their rifles out of their hands. One rifle remained, but he warped at the leader of the group as the weapon was fired, dismantling it by ripping the bolt off and shoving the boy down the slope as he did. It only took one person tumbling over to make the rest behind them fall, and while they scrambled to get up, he stomped mightily once—his warping voice sure to debilitate them and make their eardrums bleed.
“Return to your homeland and never scale these mountains again,” he said, and the mountainside rumbled; the silver ant scouts winced as they covered their ears. “This was but a strange, wintry dream. Tell anyone about us, and we will come to haunt you in your nightmares.
“Now leave.”
He made his last word extra forceful to physically shove them a few metres down, and down they went, speeding through the sea of clouds until they disappeared into mere silhouettes—and the way they so quickly retreated when he commanded them to made unease brew in the pits of his stomach once more.
If they hadn’t completed their mission yet, they wouldn’t retreat.
Was the confirmation of someone living atop the blackrock mountains their mission, or had they been sent out to investigate something else?
… Maybe I should have killed them just to be sure they would not leak the Worm Mages’ existence.
If I did that, then–
“Sparrow!” Utu shouted, waving him over through the fog from a fair distance away, and he frowned as he noticed the Worm Mages all trying to get his attention with similar waves.
If he was any bit relieved that none of them had been hurt in the battle, he wasn’t relieved now. When he warped over to rejoin the group, Ninmah, Utu, and everyone else were standing around a silver ant scout who was evidently still breathing and alive—just left behind by the four who must’ve thought everyone else was already dead.
Before Sparrow could even attempt to pick the scout up and send her rolling down the slope, Ninmah knelt beside her and grimaced; the deep red wound in the girl’s open stomach was looking like quite the unfixable wound, after all.
Hm.
Regardless of what I try to do, she will die on her own.
In that case, there is nothing–
“We can’t save her unless we give her the worm system as well,” Ninmah said, nodding at the elders one by one. “She’s got the same skin and hair colour as Sparrow, so she probably has a system already. In that case, we still have time. We can make the switch quick enough.”
“I’ll tell the kids to stay inside,” Utu said, warping away immediately.
“We’ll make sure nobody interrupts you,” Ammu, Nammu, and Immu said, nodding in agreement.
“Put this moonflower charm in her hands while you do it,” Enli said, reaching into her cloak and placing a small four-petaled flower onto the girl’s forehead.
With that, all of the elders but Ninmah dispersed. She tried her best to slip her arms under the scout and stand up at the same time, but then she started heaving for breath, her biceps trembling with effort. She couldn’t muster enough strength to pick the scout up.
Overexertion.
Ninmah gritted her teeth, whirling and looking up at him. “Sorry, but I… I kinda need you to carry her,” she breathed. “I’m… I’m drained. I… I already used most of my strength in the hunts this morning, so–”
The shadow of the final Boreus burst out from the snow a fair distance away, startling both of them, and it started running away through the sea of clouds.
Sparrow’s eyes widened.
Mistake.
Miscounted.
Immediately, he raised his rifle and prepared to chase after the Boreus—letting it go meant it’d tell the rest of its nest where Immanu was—but Ninmah grabbed his ankle and held him still.
He snapped his head back at her, irritated–
“She’ll die if you don’t carry her now,” Ninmah hissed up at him through gritted teeth, eyes narrowed. “Leave that Boreus. She’s more important than a single bug.”
“...”
If he wanted to tear his ankle out of Ninmah’s grip, he could.
If he had to choose between saving one person now and protecting a hundred and eleven from potential attacks in the future, then his answer… was…
…
… Tch.
He threw his rifle over his back and picked up the scout in his arms, looking down at Ninmah for directions.
Ninmah nodded back up at him, eyes glittering with gratitude.
“I’ll lead you there,” she said, voice tight and quiet. “The last place in Immanu you haven’t seen—the room where worm systems are implanted.”