After a week of sitting through damp earth and sludgy mud, clean skin felt almost foreign.

Zora emerged from his bedroom in the Salaqa Manor with fresh sleeves and a tunic newly pressed with heat-wards under his cloak. The scent of mint soap still clung faintly to his collar, and his cloak's natural amber shine shone even more with a bit of polish in the bath. He felt truly clean for the first time in a long while—fancy, even—but as he pulled his bedroom door in with an "open" and stepped out into the hallway with his staff, it was clear he was the only one enjoying his newfound freshness.

From the guest room beside his, a ripple disturbed the hallway's air. A wormhole pried open in front of the closed door, and Enki stepped out from it like a thought pulled into shape. His short, plain hair was frigid and sharp as ever, his rifle was still slung over his shoulder, and his flower-patterned cloak felt especially cold, even though the steward of the manor had gone to all the trouble preparing a warm bath for the both of them.

Maybe the boy's half-metal skin meant he shouldn't be taking any dips in water.

But doors really are just a suggestion to him with his wormholes, huh?

What a convenient Art.

Zora didn't say anything as Enki turned to stare at him blankly. There was no point. The boy had been ignoring most of his advice on good living for a week now, and as a teacher, he'd learned early not to waste his best material on stone. In this case, cold and hard metal.

Machi, ever the diligent steward, was already standing and waiting at the far end of the hall. Her posture, as always, made no sound, but her presence was unmistakable. Her lungs inhaled etiquette and exhaled propriety.

"Thousand Tongue. Worm Mage," she said with a shallow bow.

Zora inclined his head in return. Enki didn't move at all.

"This way, please," she continued, gesturing behind her to the flight of stairs.

They followed.

Down the long hallway they went, Zora using only the barest taps of his feet to keep pace. He'd memorised this floorplan months ago. The manor hadn't changed. Not because Baya lacked the means to renovate and build new evacuation tunnels after Zora narrowly escaped the Royal Capital Investigator coming to sniff around, but because old money preferred tradition over trend. Relatively progressive as Baya may be, Zora would not have chosen to rebuild Amadeus Academy to the way it used to be after that attack from Nona.

Come to think of it, I haven't sent any letters back to the academy in a while.

He made a mental note to do just that as Machi led the two of them down into the dining hall. The acoustics opened up like a cave as she pushed the double doors open. Walls of lacquered wood. The faint scrape of chairs adjusted an inch too far. No footsteps, though. The dozen or so servants had already taken their positions by the walls of the hall, and at the end of the long rectangular table, the Salaqa Lord sat where he always sat.

Baya made no attempt to rise, though he did smile and wave Zora over.

"Thousand Tongue," Baya greeted. "A job well done in the northwest, I say."

Zora angled his head, slightly amused. No fanfare. No announcements. Straight to the point. Baya remembered quite well that he had very little patience for pomp, because the table was also already set. Lavish dishes sat on the tablecloth: grilled pig tail with salt rub, roasted tubers glazed in fermented nectar, and pickled beetle carapace in royal vinegar. He could smell every ingredient with ease. He could hear the heat still rising from the plates.

Without a word, he took his seat on the left side of the table and stabbed his staff into the floor. Enki sat across from him on the right side. Neither of them said a word.

"Word of the Thousand Tongue's exploits has reached even me," Baya continued, folding his hands on the table. "Your giant five-pointed star-shaped effigies have become something of a regional legend, and not just in the northwest. Your aura as well—it has grown. Tangibly."

Zora scoffed, his fingers curled around his fork. "Stronger, maybe," he murmured, reaching for the roasted tubers, "but certainly not younger. I'm a great deal more tired than I was two months ago, and that's the part that doesn't ever make it into the records of war." His fork scraped through grilled skin, and he took a bite before adding, mouth half-full, "Still, I will not lie. I did learn a few good things about Decima, and I have gotten stronger to boot. My detour to the northwest has been useful."

That seemed to please Baya—at least enough to shift the direction of the conversation.

"You will have to tell me about the intelligence you've brought back at a later time, but I see you have also brought back more than just intelligence," the Salaqa Lord said, gesturing subtly toward the other side of the table. "A companion, no less."

Zora didn't have to look to know Enki sat perfectly still across the table, eyes unfocused, posture rigid. The boy hadn't touched a single dish. Not even so much as glanced at them. Instead, he stared at the food like it was a mirage—something distant and unreal.

After a moment, his gaze flicked upwards to the wall behind Baya, where the banner of the Salaqa Household—the sigil of army ants interlocking mandibles in the shape of a sawtooth-edged shield—-hung proud and large.

Zora heard the stillness before he felt the change in temperature.

But Baya, unaware, raised a glass of wine in a formal gesture. "Worm Mage," he said evenly, "it is an honour for me to welcome yet another defender of the outer regions. The Attini Empire owes you a great—"

The room froze. The air thinned, as if every heat-bound particle had been leached away by an invisible frost.

And then Enki moved.

The boy leaned forward, disappeared into a wormhole—no hiss, no flare, no shimmer—and reappeared in a breath behind Baya's chair. His rifle had been slung over his back, but now his bayonet was out, the wickedly sharp tip pressed tightly against the old lord's throat.

Machi moved next. Zora heard the friction of her heel twist into position behind Enki, and then there was the rasp of a dozen sawtooth blades being unsheathed by the attending guards standing around the walls. None of them lunged in immediately. They were smart enough to know none of them could get to Enki before he could slice their lord's throat.

And Zora?

He kept eating, chewing thoughtfully.

These tubers taste like the ones the old cafeteria ladies used to make me.

The Salaqa Lord really has done his research on my food preferences.

Baya remained seated, his spine still unbent. Zora had to give credit where it was due: the weight of a blade at the old lord's neck did not shake his tone.

"I must ask," the Salaqa Lord said quietly, "what have I done to offend you, Worm Mage?"

Enki's voice, when it came, was brittle and sharp. "You are the Salaqa Lord."

"Yes, I am."

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

"You were one of the Noble-Bloods who passed the legislation that created the Bullet Ant Battalions."

Zora paused mid-bite to think for a moment, and a quiet hum formed behind his thoughts as memories surfaced: blurred and half-forgotten ink from decades-old books.

He'd read about it before as a boy buried in candlelight. While the Attini Empire's Noble-Bloods armed themselves with elegant supporting Swarmblood Arts and battlefield commanding abilities, the actual soldiers—the ones who marched out against the Swarm on the borders of the empire—were much, much less powerful. Carpenter Ant Guards. Mortar Ant Troops. Silver Ant Scouts. All Standard to Advanced Class Soldiers possessing basic Symbiotic Systems that were mass-producible, and thus expendable.

As the Nohoch Lord had once told him, each of the Six Swarmsteel Fronts had their own way of combating their unique brand of the Swarm. The Eichengott of the Rampaging Hinterland Front piloted giant Organic Armours in order to face down their titanic bugs. The Nocturna of the Mori Masif Front valued speed and elusiveness in order to face down their flight-capable bugs. The Deepwater Legion Front valued warriors with affinity for water-based combat in order to face down their aquatic bugs. The Attini Empire Front valued sheer force of numbers—because to fight ants, soldiers must be churned out like ants.

A crude solution for an empire with a higher population than the Mori Masif Front, the Rampaging Hinterland Front, and the Deepwater Legion Front combined.

And all that is to say that out of the six Swarmsteel Fronts, the Attini Empire Front also loses the most soldiers per year to the Swarm.

However…

Of the many divisions of the empire's military, even Zora had heard of the Bullet Ant Battalions, consisting of soldiers with the Advanced Bullet Ant Class who specialised in fighting humans from other fronts.

After all, it's not like the Attini Empire—or any of the major fronts, for that matter—is on the best of terms with its neighbouring fronts, nations, republics, and kingdoms.

Sawtooth blades started rasping again from sheaths. Boots started scuffing against marble again. The servants turned guards started closing in like teeth, shouting at the Worm Mage to drop his weapon, but Zora—still seated—simply raised his teacup and took a slow sip.

The bitterness settled pleasantly against his tongue.

… The Bullet Ant Batallions are composed of exclusively children, aren't they?

Trained from six, conditioned by eight, offered the Bullet Ant Class during their First Class Mutation Selection at no more than ten of age. The Attini Empire's logic was brutal and simple. You made soldiers before the world made them weak. Children could be molded into killers more efficiently than adults, especially when the targets were other humans.

If he recalled correctly, the Bullet Ant Battalions were considered an elite battalion, second only to the Spore Knights and the Forward Army Generals.

And now a former Bullet Ant Soldier was standing in this room, bayonet pressed against the throat of the man who'd helped vote him into existence.

Enki wasn't breathing. His heart, if he really had one, made no noise.

Baya did not attempt to rise, either. Instead, the Salaqa Lord's voice cut through the chaos with surprising command.

"This is no way to treat a guest of the Salaqa Household."

The guards froze. The command rippled through them like a snapped banner. One by one, they hesitated—some with fists clenched, others with hands still hovering over hilts—but they were well-trained, after all. They obeyed. Reluctantly. Uneasy. Ashamed.

Machi was the last to lower her weapon, her silence quieter than the others'.

Then, with practiced grace, the Salaqa Lord closed his eyes and bowed his head beneath the blade.

"Yes," he said plainly. "I was one of the Noble-Bloods who voted to establish the Bullet Ant Battalions fourteen years ago. We believed… no, I believed that in order to face both the Swarm and the enemies circling the empire, we needed a force that could kill faster than we could reason. Children, we thought, would be underestimated. Overlooked. They could kill men who would hesitate to strike first. And they would do so without pause and without burden."

Enki didn't respond.

"I had heard the rumors," Baya continued, quieter now, "that you were one of them. A Bullet Ant Soldier. A child we turned into a blade against humans. I do not know all the battles we have sent you children into, and I do not know what things you have carved into the dark. I cannot imagine the things you have seen. It is even more despicable, perhaps, that at the time I cast my vote, I already had my daughters. Both of them two years old. The same age as the children we were going to raise and pit against other humans."

A pause.

Zora sat quietly. He could hear the flicker of a flame somewhere nearby—perhaps from a dropped oil lamp—or maybe it was the feeling of guilt burning its way through someone's chest.

Or perhaps… resolve?

"... But while I cannot excuse my vote, I do not regret it either," Baya said firmly. "I believed in it then. I still believe it now. Without the Bullet Ant Battalions to keep us safe from our neighbours who may be looking to undermine our foothold in the south, the empire would have collapsed a decade ago. To the Swarm. To the revolts. To foreign blades. You have every right to hate me for that decision, and yet I am a lord. I see to the safety of my people and my own, even if it means sending children like you to war."

He took a breath.

"If you want to kill me for it, you are free to do so. But," he said, "if you must, I would implore you to leave the others out of it. Leave my servants. Leave my guards. Leave my remaining daughter. They did not rob you of your childhood. I did."

The cold didn't relent.

Enki's frigid mist gathered in the corners of the dining hall like ghosts. Beneath the table, along the walls, behind the servants' breaths. It pulled at the skin and whispered behind every word not spoken. Zora felt it on his fingertips, and it was a bit uncomfortable, so he brought his teacup to his lips again, savouring the warmth with deliberate slowness.

No one moved for another second.

Then Enki stepped away.

His bayonet withdrew without a sound, and in a single motion, the Worm Mage vanished from behind Baya and reappeared back in his seat through a wormhole.

He still didn't look up. He simply stared at the untouched feast before him.

"... I do not think the Bullet Ant Battalions were a mistake, either," Enki said curtly. "To say that is to say my existence and my comrades' sacrifices were meaningless." Then his gaze flicked towards Baya, stern and unyielding. "If you had said you regretted creating the Bullet Ant Battalions, I would have killed you."

Zora had to resist the urge to snort.

There was no bluff in the boy's voice.

"And you have already paid the price," Enki continued. "You have already lost a daughter to the Swarm. You will not send children to die again."

Another long pause followed.

There was the slight scrape of fabric as Baya lowered his head again, and his voice, when it came this time, was soft.

"Of course," the lord replied. "The Bullet Ant Battalions are useful, but they are not the future. They cannot be the future. I would like to imagine that someday, the Six Swarmsteel Fronts will no longer fight each other for scrap and sovereignty. I would like to imagine that someday, all of humanity will speak to one another, share in each other's knowledge, and face the Swarm whole-heartedly together."

He gave a weary sigh.

"But that world is still far away." Baya gestured politely towards the spread of dishes before Enki. "Is the food not to your liking? I can have the chefs whip up a new batch if that is the case."

"I do not need to eat," Enki said plainly.

Baya blinked.

Then the older man gave a tired chuckle, but Zora was already tilting his head, frowning just slightly.

"Machi is here," Zora said, making a show of looking around the room, "but I don't hear Kita in this manor."

"She's not here," Baya replied. "She left yesterday to return to her academy. Her final Summer Semester is beginning, and Machi will follow her there tomorrow."

Zora gave a small nod, but Baya, with a more curious tone, asked, "Was she of any use to you both in the northwest?"

There was a clink of silver as Zora set down his fork.

"Not at all," he said flatly. "Kita was completely useless. I may not have held a stick of chalk in the past two years, but if this were a parent-teacher conference, I would advise you to keep her out of the fight against Decima from now on and just let her go to school."

Baya blinked again.

"I… see." The lord's voice tightened, though only slightly. "She had returned home injured. Machi was evasive about the details. I suppose, if you say she was useless, that it was her own weakness that brought her low."

There was nothing Zora wanted to say to that, so he took another sip of tea until Baya cleared his throat and changed the topic.

"My brother," he said. "Did he treat you well?"

Zora gave a slow, agreeable nod. "Of course. We can discuss the details later if you'd like, but for now, do you have another mission for me?"

"Indeed," Baya said. "The preparations are already underway. You will depart in one week." Then his gaze shifted across the table. "And the Worm Mage? Will you be helping us as well? I must admit, I had not expected the Thousand Tongue to return to this manor with you, but if you choose to assist us… we will be stronger for it. Our next mission could certainly use a warrior like you."

Enki lifted his eyes just slightly.

"I want to destroy the Swarm," he said plainly. "If this mission will lead to the death of an Insect God, I will fight."

Zora heard the flicker in Baya's throat as he swallowed, though he smiled after.

"Excellent," Baya said, nodding at the servants around them to bring in another round of food only Zora and him were going to eat. "Then for your next mission, both of you are going to have to go to school."

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.