Chapter 130
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 130
Chapter Title: Empty Shell (4)
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“Infinite possibilities...”
The moment it partially absorbed the genes of humans, beings classified as intelligent lifeforms.
Asmora experimented with countless combinations using her evolved, massive brain.
That was her role as queen.
There were no limits to the power of imagination.
She could combine every possible scenario and extend those branches endlessly.
This was especially true when designing a mere “soldier” that would devote its life entirely to the hive.
Unlike Asmora’s desire for beautiful forms to please Jin-hyuk, or Bellona’s wish to master enemy martial arts and grow stronger, such personal cravings weren’t necessary here.
Desire can serve as a catalyst to achieve the impossible, but it also imposes powerful constraints.
Asmora completely excluded such desires when creating new soldier variants for the hive.
She engineered and refined them solely for peak efficiency and maximum combat prowess.
After reviewing and discarding innumerable possibilities, one of the successful variants born from this process was the Beheader Ant · Ascalon.
It was designed to wield techniques mimicked from the hive’s first warrior, Bellona, but its body was far bulkier and more robust than hers.
Its form resembled a bipedal monster far more than anything human.
Yet that very ferocious build allowed the Beheader Ants · Ascalon—even with skills vastly inferior to Bellona, who had attained her own enlightenment—to dominate close-quarters combat through sheer overwhelming power.
“Block them! Block!”
“Maximum one minute twenty seconds. Inflict as much damage as possible and withdraw.”
Asmora observed the elves thrown into panic by the Elder Spire’s collapse, as well as Seira, who had no intention of stopping after destroying it and planned to maximize damage before retreating.
The Elf Empire’s 3rd Legion, which had aimed to eradicate the ant nest, was now split: rear units of elves handling bombardment and Elder Spire operations, and frontline conscript forces preparing for the siege.
The conscripted troops numbered in the tens of thousands, while the elf contingents barely exceeded a thousand.
Of course, with so few flying types on site, that elf force alone should have sufficed for defense. The problem was that Seira, charging alongside the Beheader Ants · Ascalon, shattered the balance.
“Gasp?!”
“No—hold the line!”
The elf knights faltered before Seira’s assault, spearheaded by Beheader Ants · Ascalon even larger than orcs, thundering toward them.
Seira was the hive’s mightiest mage, and the mage-knight pairing was a classic, time-honored combination on this land. What’s more, their coordination was mechanically precise, utterly devoid of waste.
‘3rd Legion Guardian Isril.’
While her consciousness fused seamlessly with the stalwart warriors guarding her like extensions of her own body, Asmora discerned Seira’s target as the mage unleashed spells freely.
An elf woman draped in ornate robes and a golden laurel crown.
Isril had stayed close to protect the crucial Elder Spire.
In other words, she was the top leader whose death here would deliver the heaviest blow to the enemy—right before their eyes.
Opponents lacking a hive mind would see their cohesion crumble the instant their leader fell. Seira seized the opportunity.
She intended to slay Isril within this fleeting window of just over a minute, before reinforcements arrived, then pull back.
‘The moment has come.’
Asmora directed the hive as Seira’s magic toppled elf knights, stripping away Isril’s escorts, allowing the Beheader Ants · Ascalon to close in.
Isril’s arrow shattered one creature’s head as she desperately dodged, but before other guards could reach her, magical chains erupted from Seira’s incantation circle and bound her.
“W-wait a moment!”
Despite Isril’s horrified cry, unyielding blades rent her body to pieces without a shred of hesitation. The instant her head hit the ground, they soared skyward in unison, departing without a backward glance.
The belated reinforcements wailed at the gruesome remains. Their supreme commander—the one they’d trusted above all—had perished pathetically alongside their ultimate weapon.
This meant the elves’ offensive to seize the outpost and eliminate the ants posing a rear threat had failed. Far from being uprooted, the invading hive’s ant nest entrenched in their territory would only expand further.
“Report to high command immediately! They’re coming at us with everything they’ve got! This isn’t like the skirmishes so far!”
But the elves had no chance to plot vengeance for their fallen kin or retribution for this humiliating defeat.
Asmora had sensed the opening and mobilized every force she’d meticulously assembled across the old Lukadia Empire’s southern lands, launching a full-scale push into the Elf Empire’s northern frontier.
The very moment the 3rd Legion faltered, Erdin—guardian of the 5th Legion, which had focused solely on defense—found himself speechless before the dense black tide surging toward him.
The land overrun by hideous variant ants resembled a white canvas slowly soaked in black ink.
No war chants or drums to rally spirits—just the ceaseless rustling of carapaces grinding together, borne on the wind.
“This is madness...”
Erdin sighed without realizing it, his eyes fixed on the visions flickering before him.
These were frantic reports streaming in from across the entire defensive line held by the 5th Legion.
Tyrants cloaked in inky blue barriers numbered beyond count.
Flying swarms blanketed the skies like flies swarming a summer stream.
Abandoned outposts and minor fortifications blocking their path were pulverized without mercy.
Panicked elves unleashed cannon fire and spells in desperate resistance, but the teeming ants simply filled the gaps left by explosions with their own bodies, advancing relentlessly.
“Looks like they’re finally ready to end this war.”
Jin-hyuk murmured in quiet admiration as he watched.
The ant hive, which had never once paused in developing and evolving itself, was done with the grueling war of attrition.
Now, their own calculations and evidence assured victory.
Through endless battles and accumulated experience, the ants had pressed forward without faltering, arriving here at last.
“Isril is dead. One of our dearest allies, bound to us through centuries of exchange. Slain by those savage demons. They say her body was hacked into fifteen pieces—barely recoverable.”
“...”
“Over a million monsters are descending from the north. They mean to devour this entire world, and the longer and bloodier our fight grows, the more of our kin will perish.”
“Why bother telling me all this?”
The 3rd Legion’s defeat. The ants swarming south. The 5th Legion thrown into battle. The colossal chaos and panic erupting within the Elf Empire.
The unstoppable juggernaut that had crushed and conquered all neighboring powers was gone.
Now, like everyone else, they faced the grim task of clawing for survival in a desperate war against a foe bent on devouring them.
Defeat offered no mercy—no chance to live on. Only butchery and consumption as fodder.
Arie stared at Sariel in utter incomprehension, her voice ice-cold despite still being bound to that same tree root since Seira’s raid. Why had he come all this way to tell her?
“To break this dire crisis, the Great Spirits have urgently revealed a ritual. But it demands elves of exceptional fortitude and compatibility. You’re one of them.”
Sariel sighed, laying bare the truth.
The deity, rattled by the ants’ relentless growth and their string of defeats, had hastily imparted a new technique—one suited to precious few. Arie was among them. For the greater good—for everyone—would she please fight?
“Have you lost your mind?”
Arie gaped in disbelief, her face a mask of absurdity.
“You’re the traitors! The ones who murdered and tormented your own kin! Now that they’re dying, you want me to fight? Get a grip—the demons deceiving and slaughtering our people are you!”
Unable to contain her rage, she thrashed against her bonds, screaming.
Arie had been betrayed by Sariel and his New Elf ilk, who sought to subjugate the elves under divine orders. She’d lost everyone around her.
And now, she endured endless torment, denied even death, all because of Sariel’s twisted obsession.
Talk of the greater good, true values, sacrifices for kin—it was nothing but vile hypocrisy and self-justification to her.
And she wasn’t wrong: had the New Elves not been the deity’s minions, they’d have no cause to fight the ants at all.
“You’re too narrow-minded. Gain more knowledge, more experience, and you’ll see. I never wanted this. But... the greater good. Everything... for the glory of the elven race...”
No matter how raggedly Arie screamed in exhaustion, Sariel’s ears were already sealed shut.
Convinced his path was the absolute truth, he sought only to correct—or compel—those who failed to comprehend or dared object.
“Drag her to the laboratory. We must finish preparations before Belzahad presses on and reaches this great forest.”
Sariel ordered his guards, then stared blankly as Arie—finally freed from the roots—was hauled away, her frail body writhing as she screamed voicelessly.
“---!”
“Bind her securely. Once the Holy Incarnation Rite is complete, she won’t be able to defy orders anyway.”
Arie was dragged in, gagged by her own kin, and strapped tightly to the operating table.
Seira and her subordinate Ascalon units had performed their special ops role too effectively—their power had grown overwhelming. In response, the deity the elves revered as the World Tree’s spirit had intervened urgently, bestowing a new technique.
It involved remodeling compatible elves’ bodies to channel the Divine World Tree’s power, forging them into sacred warriors.
Of course, they conveniently ignored the excruciating agony involved—and the fact that these “warriors” became expendable puppets incapable of disobedience.
The others, save Arie, had accepted it willingly, even embraced the sacrifice.
“Engrave the spells across her entire body. Implant the spirit stones. Then infuse the Divine Tree’s sap—laced with its power—into her joints and bones.”
“...!”
A horrific, torturous remodeling process that sounded preferable to death just from the description.
Terror flooded Arie’s eyes.
But her kin, backed into a corner, showed no mercy for that gaze.
They merely parroted the same lines over and over: it was all for their people, so please, make the sacrifice.
“Begin.”
“---! ---!!!”
She screamed silently as the needles closed in on her flesh.
It was then that the 5th Legion—rushing to confront the ant hordes—suffered a crushing defeat, yielding ground as they retreated.
End of Chapter 130 - Empty Shell (4)