Chapter 31
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 31
Chapter Title: Hero (1)
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‘They’re not sending another note, huh?’
The Deity’s field of vision is determined by the activities of their Subordinates.
In other words, just as I could see the enemy through my ants, the opposing Deity could view my ants through their own Subordinates.
I’d been a bit worried about it, but no further notes arrived.
Well, if they truly mistook me for an Outer God, they’d probably given up after seeing no reply, no matter how much they called out or hurled insults.
Outer Gods were outsiders to the Divine Net, after all—they couldn’t hear no matter how much the system let them shout.
Instead, they were likely throwing everything they had into the war about to unfold.
The Subordinates have completed their preparations. They will commence battle simultaneously the moment the time arrives.
The ants were already ready.
Those who’d been operating as hunting parties near the untamed forest that seemed like it would become a key stronghold, along with those waiting in the nest, had all assembled on the nearby plains.
The enemies’ confusion at discovering the ants lying in wait was obvious from their movements alone.
They’d wanted to rush in and fight before the ants could gather, but now that they’d spotted the reinforcements pouring from the nest, they were advancing with extreme caution, inching forward slowly.
‘I wonder how the alliance will fight.’
As that moment drew nearer bit by bit, I shook my head to push away thoughts of the horrific slaughter about to unfold.
The ants had fought orcs before and clashed with humans too.
But they’d never faced an allied army fighting together.
The ants were hiding secret weapons they’d already tested, saving them solely for this moment—but it was clear the enemy had a few aces up their sleeve as well.
Above all, Deities backed them. Real, proper Deities, unlike me.
My rank had risen recently thanks to the ants’ expansion, but who knew what would happen later? Right now, I couldn’t offer the ants any direct help in a situation like this.
The other Deities, on the other hand, seemed capable of intervening somehow, so they wouldn’t go down easily.
The Subordinates believe that even mutual destruction in this battle would be a net gain for the hive as a whole.
Still, I didn’t need to worry about the ants getting complacent because of that.
From the start, they’d always been dead serious.
Their willingness to sacrifice tens of thousands of individuals for the greater good was a level of madness no one else could hope to match.
“The bastards are moving!”
“Move as planned! Hurry!”
It had already been over a day since they’d spotted each other and begun maneuvering meticulously across the vast plains chosen as the battlefield.
But in that suffocating tension where time lost all meaning, the ants were the first to move.
Stuck frozen in front of my screen on a fine weekend afternoon, I swallowed dryly without realizing it.
At a glance, the countless ants surging forward might seem chaotic, but closer inspection revealed the hive mind at work: not a single tangle or moment of confusion, moving with mechanical precision.
‘They’re forming a defensive line again? I’ve seen this before.’
I checked the alliance’s formation.
Mages and shamans had conjured a convincing earthen wall in just one day, while orc warriors—far bulkier and tougher than human soldiers—stood at the front with massive shields.
But trying to block a swarm like this was a tactic I’d seen multiple times.
And every time, the ants had shattered the enemy formation and won.
The Subordinates have chosen a contest of brute force.
Sure enough, the ants didn’t halt their charge even against an enemy that had dug in first and was brazenly holding position.
Overwhelm with numbers, crush with raw power. It was one of the ants’ specialties.
“Fire!”
Suddenly, massive fireballs began arcing through the sky from the alliance formation, crashing down like waves on the oncoming ants.
They weren’t using cumbersome siege engines.
On the split screen, I saw mages gathered, drawing a huge magic circle together.
Those shells had launched from that circle.
‘Self-propelled guns would be jealous.’
The fireballs traced elegant arcs before slamming into the ant swarm, exploding in showers of shattered earth and searing heat.
Where the blasts faded, numerous dead ants lay scattered.
Even variants with Magic Resistance took fatal wounds from direct hits, and the aftershocks alone killed droves of regular ants. That joint spell packed serious power.
It’s an attack they’ve never seen before, but the Subordinates remain confident of their advantage.
Even so, the ants didn’t stop charging.
Cold, swift calculations told them they could tank this level of fire and break through.
Their fallen comrades were just more meat.
They trampled the corpses without hesitation and pressed on.
“Hold the line!”
Finally, the vanguard pierced the barrage of spells and arrows, slamming into the enemy formation amid a thunderous impact. The real battle began.
“See that? Those blazing fire shells are working great!”
“Don’t get cocky—keep calculating coordinates! Can’t you see the situation?! We’re still way short!”
As massive fire shells detonated, killing swarms of ants, the mage handling coordinates whistled in delight.
Another mage right beside him snapped irritably, though.
‘He’s right. It’s effective, but nowhere near enough.’
Seira Redenverk, overseeing the magic circle design nearby, grimaced.
The joint spell the mages were casting combined their magic to amplify power and range, functioning like a mana artillery battery.
It was a common war spell in Edelion, reliably powerful—but the problem was their numbers.
“They’re just tanking the mana barrage and pushing through...?”
One mage muttered in disbelief at the ants bull-rushing through the bombardment.
The standard counter to mana artillery was deploying your own mages to block the shells.
Even ferocious orc warriors never charged straight at it.
“Those things have no emotions. No fear, no pain. They’ll snap at you with their jaws even as their bodies are sliced apart.”
“What the...”
Seira explained the ants’ brutality and fearlessness to her less-experienced fellow mages.
They fell into shocked silence at her veteran words.
‘As expected, the Heralds of Doom demand specialized counters. But how many sacrifices will it take to figure those out...’
Seira bit her lip, realizing standard tactics wouldn’t cut it against the ants.
They were fundamentally alien to all life on this land.
Studying them, developing countermeasures, and spreading that knowledge wouldn’t happen overnight.
“Tch, just keep firing for now!”
For the moment, all she could do was pump out more shells with her colleagues to thin the ant numbers.
And as they did, a brutal melee was already raging up front.
“Poison spit! Cover your eyes!”
“Warriors on variants—don’t forget blessings on your weapons and bodies!”
The rear was a warzone, but the front lines, where they had to block the ants with their own flesh, were hell itself.
The forward soldiers, human and orc alike, fought desperately against the massive ants swarming them.
“Holy Power doesn’t work on these.”
“Then we step up.”
Still, they were holding their own, more or less.
Orc warriors handled the Holy Power-resistant ants, while paladins and knights tackled the other variants.
They shielded vitals from Venom Ant spit and maintained tight formations to avoid getting overwhelmed.
All lessons hard-won from prior clashes and research.
Knowing the counters naturally boosted their combat effectiveness.
They should’ve been swept away by the all-out assault, but they clung to their positions tenaciously.
“Tch, tough as hell.”
Tuks was thriving in the front lines too, benefiting from it.
He leaped in, swinging his axe full-force to split the head of a massive, spike-covered Soldier Ant variant. Then he vaulted atop it, hacking down ants lunging at him.
Humans and orcs nearby cheered his raw prowess regardless of race.
‘Close call? Nah, we’ve got this.’
Tuks grinned at the cheers.
Momentum was crucial in battle.
It could turn a razor-thin loss into victory.
“Impressive, Tuks! Taking down that giant alone!”
“Rondel, you’re holding steady over there too.”
Tuks, pulling back briefly to catch his breath, was approached by a flushed human knight doing the same.
They hadn’t known each other long, but shared battles forged quick bonds.
In this region’s history, an orc chieftain and human knight bonding would’ve been unthinkable—until the ants made it possible.
“It’s manageable. Hold like this, win, then charge and burn their nest in one go.”
Knight Rondel beamed with hope.
Tough fight, but their preparations were paying off.
Just win once.
The ants were all-in too, so one victory would seal it. That’s what they believed.
“Fighting spirit’s vital for warriors, but don’t let it consume you. Anyway... those things overhead are a real pain.”
Tuks chuckled, raising his axe to rejoin the fray while glancing skyward.
They already knew about the winged Small Ants.
They’d realized the scouts’ role and tried killing every one they spotted.
Even now, the winged pests circled overhead like carrion crows eyeing corpses amid the chaos.
Gazing up in the heat of battle, Tuks found it infuriating.
Everyone knew the scouts lacked combat power, but enemies buzzing above your head were distracting as hell.
“...Huh?”
In that instant, primal instinct made Tuks flinch.
Amid the din of shouts and screams, one sound pierced his ears.
The rapid wingbeats of something massive vibrating the air.
“The sky!!!”
He bellowed on reflex.
What had been tiny shadows suddenly revealed colossal bodies, diving at the ground with terrifying speed.
“Rondel...!”
It was over in a blink.
By the time Tuks instinctively identified the ambushers and shouted, the behemoths had already strafed the ground once.
Impacts and screams erupted everywhere.
Tuks’s position was no exception.
Pale, he staggered at the sight of Rondel’s corpse—snatched by talons and legs, impaled through his armor by a stinger larger than a spear.
“---!”
Fierce winds from the beating wings knocked people flying and drowned out all sound.
Tuks ground his teeth at the monster clutching Rondel’s dangling, bloodied body with its forelimbs, staring him down.
Thanks to Seira’s detailed briefing, Tuks knew more about ants than most orcs—but this was a new variant.
‘What the hell are these things!?’
But the surge of Demonic Power with every wingbeat told him one thing.
These weren’t like the ants they’d faced before. They were true monsters, lavished with incomparable resources.
“U, uwaaa...!”
“Run! Monsters from the sky!”
One strafing run had shifted the battlefield’s mood.
Panicked soldiers crumbled rapidly in the unexpected crisis, while the Hornet Ant variants soared freely, treating their terror as fuel as they shredded the alliance lines.