Chapter 62
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 62
Chapter Title: The Value of Life (4)
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[Subordinates notice the identity of the divine sword]
The ants had clearly seen it that day.
The massive hand descending from the sky and taking away the divine spear they had brought back without a second thought.
That memory, shared across the entire hive, was far too vivid and shocking a sight.
Asmora thinks it must seize that item.
That was why Asmora, who was closer to Jin-hyuk than any other, was determined to seize it and offer it to him.
He had surely taken the divine spear and granted a "reward."
For Asmora, who devoured the materials bestowed by that great being and continually enhanced its abilities, more rewards—more of his acknowledgment—were essential.
But to earn that acknowledgment, it had to prove its worth.
Now capable of such feats with ease, Asmora no longer acted out of mere curiosity like before. Instead, it deliberately chose actions that "he would approve of," aiming to reclaim and present the divine sword wielded by the orc great general Sron.
"Y-You bastards...!"
Sron, who had been swinging the divine sword crackling with lightning while demonstrating his valor, faltered in surprise.
The ants swarming toward him had suddenly begun targeting him openly.
"Great General! Fall back for now. It seems the demons have realized you're the key. If you fall, all hope is lost!"
"No. I must fulfill the mission given to me by the War God."
Feeling the hot surge of battle-lust in his veins, Sron gritted his teeth and shook his head at his subordinates' pleas.
They were right—he was indeed a vital asset.
One of the few elite warriors granted the title of great general and bestowed a divine artifact forged by Urmark in dire straits.
'Lives carry different weights, it's true. But a heavy life must accomplish deeds to match.'
Sron knew full well he was precious. Yet he also knew that meant he had a duty to step up when it mattered.
"The golem's falling!"
"Tch, reserves—move to the right defensive line!"
Catching his breath briefly, Sron surveyed the chaotic battlefield.
A massive heavy-armored ant was clamping the golem's body with its pincers and goring it with its horns.
On another front, orc soldiers roaring war cries clashed in fierce melee with the pressing ant horde.
Some were dragged away by spider ants' webs, while toxic mists from exploding bomb ants filled the air everywhere.
As per Asmora's design, the enhanced exoskeletons from devouring armored creatures—with greater resource investment—now withstood orc spears, swords, and even heavy ballista bolts, which had pierced them before.
"What kind of monster is this... Aaaagh!"
And it wasn't just armored grafts.
Mingled among the ants were new variants: scorpion ants, equipped with scorpion-like pincers and venomous tail stingers.
Even at the size of executioner ants—bull-sized—their mere appearance sowed chaos among the orcs, inflicting lethal blows.
At this rate, the orcs would suffer a crushing defeat, and the ants would breach the line.
"Look upon this hellish inferno. How could I retreat?"
With a resolute expression, Sron raised his divine sword high.
Lightning from a clear sky struck the blade, enveloping his body in crackling thunder.
Heroes create miracles. The power granted by a deity exists for that purpose.
Asmora is glad the prey isn't fleeing but charging instead.
"Die, you demons!"
To turn the tide of war to victory, Sron charged with divine sword in hand. His figure inspired both sides simultaneously.
For the orcs pushed back by the fierce ant assault, it was a chance to rally behind their heroic vanguard. For Asmora, it was an opportunity to devour its marked prey.
Yet in the end, only one side—the victor—would laugh.
And so far, the ant hive, including Asmora, had never lost to an enemy hero.
"Raaagh!!!"
Enveloped in lightning, Sron displayed absurd might, cleaving through massive variant ants far larger than himself.
He stood firm against hundreds charging from all sides.
Though his accompanying subordinates fell one by one, countless ant corpses piled at his feet.
Bellona feels her competitive spirit stirred by the enemy leader's display.
The sight even piqued Bellona's interest, who eagerly awaited clashes with heroes.
"Look! The path is truly opening...!"
"F-Follow the Great General, quick!"
Heroes create miracles.
Without respite, he slashed through the endless enemy tide, carving a path.
Though his strength waned and his power faded, fragments of miracle were already visible.
Asmora calculates this as an acceptable sacrifice for now.
Unlike the hopeful orcs, Asmora and the ants viewed reality coldly.
The goal had shifted anyway: kill Sron and seize the sword.
Asmora deemed even a failed breach worthwhile for that prize.
"Ugh... Y-You bastards!"
Sron's power finally reached its limit. Even a hero couldn't handle every foe alone.
The miracle's price: the ants would claim his life.
"Ahh..."
The hand swinging relentlessly grew weak, caught in a blade ant's jaws.
His other arm was torn off by an executioner ant's hook claw.
His body was already buried under swarming ants.
"You were a great warrior."
"...Thank you."
Even to the end, swinging to take one more ant, Sron saw a scorpion ant's stinger pierce his chest—and breathed his last.
At least Urmark's voice echoing in his mind at that final moment allowed Sron a faint smile.
Asmora orders securing the item and retreat.
The ants, having sacrificed many for one Sron, turned and withdrew without hesitation the moment they slew him and claimed the sword.
Other lines still fought anyway—breach those and done.
Sron had fought heroically, fulfilling his duty and holding the line, but the dead stayed dead, and the lost gear gone forever.
"To go this far...?"
Jin-hyuk muttered blankly, watching the ants sacrifice so much to bring him spoils—for his sake.
He was stunned because experience told him this was just the beginning.
I won't care about anything else anymore. Ruthless beasts of an honorless, pride-less outer god. If you can slaughter every last one of those bastards, take Edellion or whatever—divide it all among yourselves.
Don't spout nonsense—focus on your internal affairs. As expected from a war god, way too overimmersed in mere subordinates!
Some deities viewed subordinates merely as tools for expanding their influence and status.
Others truly understood and immersed in those bonds.
Urmark, who commanded the great steppe orcs as subordinates, was the latter.
To him, those who followed his commands were as good as loyal vassals.
The orcs matched his temperament perfectly—bold warriors who reveled in combat and duels. Losing them one by one to ants filled him with genuine rage and sorrow.
Who do you think is propping up your forces right now so they don't crumble? Stop wasting effort and focus on holding out!
However, Astragon—the deity rapidly expanding across the empire as the Judge of the Blue Eclipse—found Urmark's attitude grating.
To Astragon, subordinates were mere chess pieces, and Urmark's orcs were a precious bulwark shielding his forces from the ants.
That bulwark needed to endure as long as possible, allowing him to claim the entire empire, then leverage the immense interference from that territory to make the world his own.
What the hell is the goddess doing!
Astragon's fury turned toward Goddess Henes, who dominated a neighboring kingdom.
The ants' full horde was on the move, ripe for striking their empty nest—a golden chance.
Yet Henes and her Holy Kingdom dawdled, irking him.
We get it. We'll mobilize too, so pipe down.
Even Henes, who had watched cautiously thus far, now deemed it time to move.
"The Goddess... has issued an oracle?"
"Yes. No word until now sparked endless debate, but we can't delay any longer."
"Understood. No choice then."
If Henes willed it, her faith-armored subordinates had no option but to obey.
Seira Redenverk felt the same upon hearing from Erianne, who visited her lab.
Though not empowered directly by the Goddess, Seira had learned from church folk just how absolute her word was. Deny it, and even Seira couldn't endure.
'Still no way to access their psychic network. But with more research progress, who knows.'
Opting to yield this time, she glanced at the caged worker ant behind her.
Surprisingly, experiments and spells on the captured worker ant had detected faint psychic waves—the hive mind itself.
Not yet grasped, but further progress could unlock its secrets, as she hoped.
"I'll join as rear guard this time, but I'm deploying regardless."
"I'd love to follow the vanguard myself. Need field data ASAP."
"...You're something else. Always obsessing over those monsters, asleep or awake."
Erianne let out a hollow chuckle.
But soon twisting it into a sly grin, she slyly took Seira's hand.
"Want something? I can snag bigger ones than that puny thing."
"I-If you would..."
"But I'll need compensation."
Grinning wider, Erianne stepped closer.
She'd locked the door on entry— just the two in the lab.
Seira smiled faintly, not dodging or pushing away Erianne's advance like before.
Brutal and violent, sure—but sincere at heart. Proof Seira's mind, fixated solely on the ant war, was slowly opening.
Asmora anticipates the moment its plan comes to fruition.
Yet one fact escaped the pair in their locked lab: the caged worker ant witnessed it all.
Of course, Asmora couldn't fathom why infertile females acted that way—only inferring its target Erianne would soon exit the barrier.
'No matter how I look, the real threat to the ants is Seira. Erianne's just a strong orc hero type. But Seira's different. The more time and power we give her, the deadlier she'll become.'
The true issue: unlike Asmora, another being fully comprehending their talk watched and heard it all.
'What to do? If Seira uncovers the hive mind and finds a weakness, the ants collapse for sure.'
Jin-hyuk clutched his head in anguish.
Over a month spying on Seira via the worker ant.
He'd learned her intimately—who she was, her thoughts—making his heart ache especially.
'Ants fall, I'm done. Then really... I'd have to order the ants to kill Seira myself.'
Only Jin-hyuk knew Seira had to be stopped.
On his table lay a printed sketch detailing her features: long silver hair, blue eyes, ever-present robe, etc. Asmora already memorized her face—easy to spot.
If needed, he'd send it to the breeding grounds for Asmora.
Current Asmora would grasp his intent, he was sure.
"Must... I be the one to kill her?"
But the moment Asmora realized Seira was its true nemesis, it'd kill her by any means.
Alone in the dark house, his silent dilemma dragged on. He'd dodged with "no choice" so far, but decision time loomed.
Embrace his role—or keep ignoring it.
Deep down, he knew the path, delaying only at the utter limit.
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