Re:Ant Lord-Chapter 142: Diverging Paths

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The queen’s herald struck a gong carved from a seashell. "By decree of Queen, retrieval expedition to void-phenomenon commences. Travel under royal aegis. Return with relics, knowledge, and the essence pool, if one truly forms. May the Ever-Spiral guide your mandibles."

Stone gates rumbled open. A tunnel mouth yawned into the dim world beyond the same eastern route Kai now marched.

Mia glanced sidelong at Thea. "Tell Your squad to keep their distance otherwise."

Thea’s eyes shone like moonlit ice. "Little sissy, Distance vanishes in the dark."

They crossed the threshold together, yet very much opposed, the air tingling with the promise of blood and treasure.

From the ramparts, lesser soldiers watched the torch-lines diverge: one veering high along the obsidian ridge, the other plunging into crystal tunnels far below. Both trails pointed toward the silver scar blinking on the horizon.

Beneath the citadel’s emerald dome, The Ant Queen closed her eyes in thought. "Two sisters aimed at one another’s heart," she mused. "But which will strike clean and which will break? The answer waited in the storm."

The tunnel beneath Gate Δ forked after barely three hundred paces. A crystal-lined shaft angled sharply up to the obsidian ridge. It’s a deeper, watery passage curved down toward buried rivers. By silent agreement, each squad chose a different route, neither wanting the other at its back.

The Ant Queen stood on her dais, satisfied, the kingdom would gain knowledge, and the restless fighting of her daughters. She enjoyed her childrens fighting each other. She thinks it makes them stronger.

Dawn-Blade squad: Shale (4★) — This mission field captain.

Needle (3★) — scout/marksman; telescoping finger-claws.

Flint (3★) — pyro-chemist; flint-knuckle glands.

Vexor (3★) — vanguard

Shadow-Talon squad:Grev (5★) — executioner; twin obsidian scythes.

Sil (4★) — illusion wing-caster.

Brask & Drask (4★/4★) — burrower twins; rotary mandibles.

No Mia. No Thea. Only their blades are in the hands of loyal specialists.

At the first fork the squads parted. Dawn Blades chose the plunging water carved tunnel. Shadow Talons climbed the knife-ridge. Both teams knew the queen’s unspoken wager: whichever unit secured proof of an Essence Pool would earn her favor and possibly they would get help to star rank up.

The lower path narrowed into a steep helix, slick with ancient mineral runoff. Shale stomped ahead, his plated forearms expanded into rectangular shields that scraped sparks from the walls. Needle worked behind him, etching Dawn Blade glyphs, triangle arrow for safety; barbed X for hazard so that rescue parties could follow if the worst befell them.

The team halted. "Miner leeches," Needle muttered.

Ahead, a flock of leech-moths clung to the ceiling. Each the size of a man’s hand, wings crusted with opal veins, mouths bristling with drilling tubes.

"Non-aggressive unless provoked," Shale said, eyes calculating. "Stay low. Don’t let them feel your aura spike."

They crouched. The team advanced slowly. Flint quietly waved off a rising spark, careful not to agitate the moths. Vexor’s blades hummed but remained still. After twenty tense meters, the moths faded into the gloom behind them.

Shale called a rest beside an underground waterfall that plunged into a swirling silvery pool. Steam tasted faintly of metal and pepper, trace storm-salts.

Flint boiled dew root broth in a mite shell pot while Needle sharpened his weapon. Vexor gazed at the falling water, the spray flecking his chitin. "Captain Mia should have led," he said at last.

"She can’t," Shale replied. "There are restrictions, no one above five-star enters the phenomenon. Besides, someone must watch Princess Thea at court."

Needle flicked a claw. "I just hope Kai is okay. Captain hasn’t smiled since he vanished."

"What if he’s dead?" Flint murmured, stirring broth.

Shale’s plates flexed, a metallic sigh. "Then we must bring her proof one way or another."

As the broth thickened, an antenna twitched in Needle’s peripheral vision. A lone termite beast, Three-star at most approached, palms raised. He wore a wicker backpack stuffed with resin gourds and fungus jerky.

"Peace," he clicked through an imperfect ant-tongue. "Name’s Klick. Travelling merchant. Saw your fire. Trade stories for supper?"

Shale granted a cautious nod. Klick settled near the flames, nose twitching at the broth. "Looking for a rift, eh? Dangerous skies tonight."

Needle leaned forward. "We’re hunting for news first. Heard of a two-star ant named Kai?"

Klick scratched his neck-plates. "Can’t say I have. But travelers south spoke of something odd. Silvertail wolf clan’s pup, Roddick aka the big mouth, little master got flattened by some handsome humanoid. Nobody is sure of the species, many say it could be demi-human (a child born from human and beast), could be a fancy Lizard man. You know the lesser one from dragons lineages. Broke the pup’s pride over a... what was it? Rabbit girl."

Vexor snorted broth up his nose. "Wait... They fought for a rabbit? I know a rabbit. What is her name?"

"Don’t know the name, I heard the story in taverns at Sand-Spine Crossing, it was a wolf who told the story." Klick continued cheerfully. "Some say Roddick’s tail is still twitching from the spanking. Others claim his armor turned brown in fear, if you catch my wind."

Needle cackled. "He soil Himself!"

Vexor’s mandibles clicked amusement. "Serve the pup right. Tell me what you know about the girl?"

"I heard she’s gorgeous," Klick said. "Charms the moon from the sky. Folk betting half a kingdom that the mystery fighter’s keeping her close."

The squad exchanged glances. Shale ladled extra broth for Klick. "Thanks, friend. Care to travel? Safer with numbers."

Klick’s compound eyes gleamed. "For a share of relic scrap, aye. I could sell some stuff, too."

On the ridge, Grev carved steps into crumbling basalt while Sil draped thin illusion film over dangerous gaps. Each beat scattered dust that mirrored the cliff’s texture, making ledges appear wider. In truth they were drinking their own nerves.

Above, lightning forks raced up through the scar, casting strobe shadows. Brask and Drask ground anchor grooves, their mandibles chewing stone into gritty pulp.

During a brief rest behind a fossilized storm watcher tree, Sil fluttered to Grev. "Orders remain: kill Dawn Blades if they find anything good. Princess Thea hinted ’accidents are common in storms.’"