Chapter 28 - New Paradise (8)
'Sharp, sturdy, and pointed. I don't know much about this stuff, but it's more than enough.'
The ten warriors setting out with Serenian to subjugate the ant den included an elf warrior named Rodon, who had originally been a tribal fighter. He was now examining the cutter blades and sewing pins, testing their potential for crafting new weapons.
For the Great Forest Elves who lived in the woods, metallurgy—the art of handling fire and metal—was an unknown discipline. No, elves in general weren't particularly fond of metal, regardless of their tribe. That's why most of their metal equipment came from the human world, and Rodon himself had wielded swords and arrowheads made by humans.
"What do you think? Does it look sufficient to a seasoned warrior's eyes?"
"For a warrior greater than me to say such a thing."
When Serenian approached him with a serious expression, inspecting the metal materials alongside him, Rodon chuckled and shook his head. He had watched her train as a child, so he knew well the extent of her talent and skill.
"I just lack experience."
"No, my lady. You are now a warrior finer than anyone else. Even with the spirits' aid, it was you who stood alone against our foes."
He shook his head and lifted a sewing pin. About 3 cm long and slightly thicker than a standard spear, it was a solid piece of metal—a massive spear in one. With mana infused into the blade, it could easily cleave branches and serve as a weapon.
"I think it's more than sufficient. It even looks shinier and tougher than what humans make."
He murmured as he inspected the cutter blade too. The small shards cut for their use were marvelously sharp weapons from their perspective.
We must change. Change isn't bad—it's essential. We're a new tribe.
Rodon recalled what Serenian had said when they first arrived here: that they needn't be bound by old customs and laws. To older elves, unlike the young—almost childlike—her, those words were hard to grasp or follow. But there were others like Rodon whose thinking was shifting.
They were truly different now from the ancient Great Forest Elves with their long history. The tribe's customs and culture were theirs to forge anew.
"Doesn't detaching the blades like this waste too much metal scraps?"
"It does."
"Such precious materials—it's a shame to discard them without use. Couldn't we use them to craft armor like humans wear? What do you think?"
He made the suggestion to Serenian first. The large metal chunks left after removing the blade portions from the bodies could be repurposed well. There was no reason for her to refuse. Her face lit up at the idea she hadn't considered, and she immediately approved it.
"If everyone's ready, we'll depart."
Of course, that was only possible if this expedition succeeded. The ten-member party, prepared late into the night, descended the barrier at dawn the next day and advanced toward the ant den visible ahead.
"Red star. Divine beast!"
Unlike the experienced Serenian, who was tense yet resolute, a red drone flew in beside them with an unfamiliar motor hum, accompanied by their grim, determined march.
"That child will aid our ant den expedition."
Serenian smiled faintly, looking up at the drone. It spun in circles as if beckoning them to follow, then led the way to the ant den. Heartened by the sight, the elves shook off some tension and quickened their steps.
"This time it'll work, right?"
The ten elves, armed with their gear, entered the ant den one by one. Watching via drone, my heart raced for no reason. This expedition mattered not just to them.
I wanted to help them more, communicate more—and for them to conquer the ant den, growing the World Tree. They look the part.
I chuckled at their appearance on screen. Their crude weapons were all made from materials I'd provided: double-edged swords with cutter blades on both sides, spears from sewing pins, arrows tipped with blade shards.
They seemed makeshift, but scaled to their size, they were plenty useful. And if useful to them, they'd work on their enemies too.
"---! --!!"
As ants swarmed to drive out the intruders, Serenian nocked an arrow and shouted. That was why their crude arms didn't look crude. Though roles were divided, hunting and gathering were daily life for them. Even after long peaceful years without strife, combat and hunting were basic skills.
They formed ranks orderly, facing the ants like veteran hunters. That should do it.
I marveled as arrows from Serenian and the archers, infused with mana, flew and pulverized ant bodies. It was leagues beyond her or her with Leon alone. Even hordes charging couldn't break their line, and arrows halted a massive mana beast ant's charge, piercing relentlessly.
One hurled a prepared sewing pin spear, penetrating its head and killing it outright.
"---."
But they pressed on, retrieving weapons and advancing deeper amid swelling ant numbers, locked in desperate life-or-death combat.
From here, anything could emerge. The drone's flash cowed ants and lit the way, but unable to gauge these mutant ants' limits, I stayed tense.
The Ant Den's Master rages.
More ants swarm in.
What the hell.
As if that triggered it, the ant den shook violently, resisting fiercer. The World Tree drank the blood of slain foes, growing with each kill. That's reality. Growth and evolution come through competition and blood.
Mana Beast Ant · Poison Stinger
The new mana beast ants were smaller than the massive ones filling the tunnel-like burrow—slightly larger than regular worker ants, elf-sized. But they had thorny, armored shells and a sharp poison stinger at their tail's end.
"---!"
One charged, curling into a ball and launching its stinger like a spear. A frontline elf warrior paled, barely blocking with his shield and staggering. The wooden shield, resistant to ant jaws, was pierced clean through—with enough force to impale the body behind.
And it wasn't just any stinger; poison spread, blackening the wounded elf's bleeding body. Panicked elves fell back. Even Serenian faltered, her green eyes shaking as she checked the fallen elf, face drained of color.
What would the young leader choose? Clutching the controller, I held my breath.
"...--!"
"---?!"
"---!"
Her decision was swift. Staring blankly at the injured, she gritted her teeth and shouted at the elf beside her, pointing outside. He protested in panic, but she ignored him. He hoisted the wounded elf and fled outward; Serenian nocked another arrow, facing front.
That was her choice. No retreat. Bury fear in rage. Backing off now changed nothing. Failing one step meant standing still forever.
I could only watch. Familiar yet impossible to judge right or wrong.
A fight to the death. Embracing death to survive wasn't wrong.
Led by Serenian, the elves fueled rage from their comrade's wound, holding firm against the poison stingers. They blocked stings, smashed shells and heads with spears and swords. Serenian, her face coldly fierce, loosed arrows without pause—brighter, stronger blue beams than the others, hunting foes.
Core room.
Two down, yet victorious, they overcame another hurdle and pressed on to the deepest part of this Deeper Ant Den. As if the previous queen was a novice, a more ferocious, gigantic queen ant awaited with her remaining legion.