The Poor Chicken Bait and the Dwarf Architect Killer

Poor chicken. When it was a fluffy yellow chick, did it ever imagine it'd end up as bait to lure out white ant monsters?

"Cluck-cluck-SCREEECH!"

Still, no doubt about it—this was one brave rooster. It flapped wildly, shitting everywhere, slamming into the cage bars with a racket. But the white ants couldn't care less. They charged like they were gonna chew up the whole cage, bird and all.

Can't go wasting a chicken per tunnel, though. For recycling purposes, a chain was hooked to the cage. Judgment yanked it quick.

Clang!

The white ant's iron jaws snapped at empty air instead of the cage. The adventurers hauled the cage back fast, and the ants turned to glare at us.

Then the weirdest thing happened. All the adventurers spread their arms wide, puffed up their chests huge, and bellowed.

"Waaaahhh!"

"Graaaarrrgh!"

"Kee-yaaah!"

If you didn't know better, you'd think they were nuts. But it clicked for me—I'd seen the exact same thing on X-Tube: what to do if you run into a bear while hiking. Puff up big, roar to say you're no easy snack.

Couldn't just sit there, so I reared up and let out a mighty hiss.

"Sssssaaaaahhh!"

Amazingly, it worked. The ants hesitated and backed off. Then they burrowed back into the ground.

The white ants' proper name is Hell-Helmet White Ants. No clue why "hell," but "helmet" was obvious: flat white plates on their heads like shields. Or maybe graduation caps for college kids? But I got the real reason quick.

Camouflage shell!

They tucked into their tunnels, sliding the flat head plate over the hole—perfect cover. No wonder they were invisible. Specialized ambush predators for digging traps.

"We've confirmed they're over there, so we can just turn back."

Judgment said that.

(Just walk past?)

"They know we're threatening now, so they won't attack first. But pass right overhead, and they'll reflexively swarm."

The adventurers clearly had the know-how to push through this zone.

"Good call sticking with us, right?"

Got it. Yeah, this made things easy. Solo, I'd freak at ants popping from nowhere.

(Ah, but I need to level up.)

Problem was, cruising like this felt too smooth—no XP grind.

Of course, I kept my cushy complaints to myself.

"Toss one over there too!"

After the first stretch, they kept chucking cages at suspicious spots. Ants sense it and pop up?

"Kee-yaaahhh!"

"Groooaaargh!"

"Kraaaawr!"

"Sssssah!"

Everyone roars threats together. One looked like a Cradmesher mixed in, but ignore.

Fun part: Isil on my back shook its leaves along. If it had a mouth, probably shhh-shake-shake!

Way too anticlimactic—we bypassed the blade-stone zone without a single fight.

"Easier than I thought?"

"Stay sharp, yeah?"

"Yeah, yeah—accidents hit when you're relaxed."

They said that, but tension was easing. Still, demon realms are deadly. This mountain range was one too—like the Great Forest. Never relax.

No perfect counters in demon realms. Real fights always have exceptions. And exceptions breed surprises.

"Cross careful."

Jerico said, and they trudged on. Too quiet's bad—make some noise to warn the ants we're passing overhead, big bad group. They stay hidden.

But one was bolder. Or asleep. Or starving.

Point is: it burst from nowhere unexpected.

Sudden. I reacted fine, but the unlucky adventurer passing by? No.

Crunch!

His ankle got chomped in a flash. The ant wouldn't let go—dragged him down before he could fight back.

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"Gaaahhh!"

He screamed, clawing the ground to resist. Nails scraped tracks, snapped, flipped. Adventurers finally reacted. Jerico swung his hammer at the ant.

Thwack!

But bug monsters have tough exoskeletons. Dented, not lethal. The ant bit down harder, retreating to its hole.

And I moved.

Shwick—

Helmuth-forged darksteel dagger: tough and shockingly sharp. It pierced the ant's forehead dead-on. Crush the brain, even bugs die.

Damage was done, though.

"Agh, let go—save me!"

Dead ant jaws stayed locked. Bitten adventurer thrashed, unaware it was over.

"Shut it, you punk!"

Jerico muffled him to calm down. Another axed the ant's neck, then pried the jaws with a knife.

"Huff... ugh..."

Nasty ankle wound. White inside? Bone. Jerico poured potion—bubbled, flesh knit a bit, but scar stayed.

"Damn it. Ankle of all places."

Ant jaws venomous? Potion gone, still open—bandaged. Soaked red quick.

"Can you walk?"

"N-no..."

"You there—support him."

Pointed guy grimaced but lent a shoulder. Jerico eyed sending the wounded back. Wounded forced steps, sensing it.

"This feels bad..."

Pace slowed hard. One less fighter too. I clocked it.

(Hm. Weaker than expected.)

Jerico and Judgment decent, others amateur. B-rank? They'd die fast dropped in Great Forest heart. Shadow Forest or Palamu Rainforest? No chance.

—Your standards rose a lot.

Hm. True—humans I met were heroes, archmages. No wonder these looked meh.

(Tch tch. Look at that blood.)

Drops from the bandage: plip, plip.

"Head to safe spot first, recheck wound. Healer up ahead with first group."

"Got it."

Problem: bleeding attracts monsters. Humans oblivious, but me? Blood reeked. Nearby ants starving too.

"Saaak!"

Called Judgment. Warned: blood scent's vibrating.

My warning hit real quick.

"What the hell are those...!"

Suddenly, white ants trailed us. Same species, but helmets horned—not flat plates.

Squinted:

Variant. Tougher breed.

"Scavengers."

Jerico gritted teeth.

"Why so early?"

Apparently, not at zone entrance. Adventurers whispered panicked.

"We detoured to avoid those..."

(Don't panic over this, foolish humans.)

Couldn't watch—chimed in.

Great Forest had no monster waves? Wrong. Demon realms defy human logic—that's why they're demon realms.

"Why the sudden formal talk...?"

Then—

"Queeeck!"

More ants ambushed from below. Adventurers gritted, fought back. No drags this time—weapons out, held line.

"Don't break formation! You—stay put, idiot!"

Solid soldier-level skill, but poor teamwork.

Me? Biggest winner.

Thud!

Transparent Hand leveled nice—reach improved. From center, I flung dagger through Jerico's legs, skewering an ant's brow. Jerico wobbled, crotch chilled.

Blood drew 'em? Trailing trackers swarmed too. Whish—slash.

Essence, XP incoming. Not a drop on me. Adventurers howled, ants crunched weirdly. Me? Conductor, center stage, just swinging blades.

Nice. Pellelian and Helmuth's advice spot-on.

(Stay back!)

Better than frontline heart-biting: let tanks hold, snipe rear—efficient. Essence soaring. Dagger arts pay off. Pellelian, you said it'd be useful.

—Idiot! Rear-line firepower's mages, not swordsmen—field flowers!

True. But blade fighting's dagger arts, right? I slashed wild. Maybe another level—fight stopped.

"Huff, heh."

"Damn, intel all wrong. Why so many?"

Didn't expect swarms.

(Always this risky?)

—Risky. But ants unusually thick.

Pellelian's last visit ages ago—hard compare.

"Hold!"

Jerico halted. Footprints in dirt—not too damp, mud puddles preserved 'em.

"First group?"

"No..."

Thick prints.

"Dwarves?"

Hoo. Grayhammer villagers vanished like refugees. They marched into demon realm. Why?

Followed tracks. Soon, terrain lit adventurers' faces.

"Safe spot!"

Blade-stones crowded narrow, ceiling-covered; floor wet black ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠soil. Prime safe zone—ants avoid damp dirt. Dwarves camped too: fire remnants, gear everywhere.

"Wait."

Wind brought blood scent.

"Fight traces."

Dwarves battled here. Not safe? Nah—fought each other or humans. Pyres mixed dwarf/human bones.

"That... alive?"

One whispered. Corner: dwarf slumped against wall, right hand clamping neck. Cloth blood-caked maroon.

"Check close."

Jerico ordered. Guy grimaced, approached cautious.

"Uh, alive?"

"..."

"Hey."

Dwarf eyes snapped open, left arm swung.

Smack!

"Grahhh!"

Hammer to cheek—adventurer flew. Dwarf mad: bloodshot eyes.

"H-humans, filthy humans!"

Surface dwarves friendly, boisterous? Ghostly wreck.

"What the—!"

"What'd you do, humans!"

Raving.

"Your fault—all die!"

Grating metal voice. Excited adventurers drew to kill. Hero time: me.

"Saaak!" (Everyone stop!)

Dunno details, but calm. Stood firm before dwarf, eye contact.

(Dwarf friend. I'm snake.)

Red Anvil dwarves warmed me up. Overconfident maybe.

"S-snake monster!"

Flung ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠hammer, grabbed junk to throw.

(Calm down!)

Not first rodeo. No reflex bite like guard captain days. One mistake enough.

"Saaaaahhh!"

Roared imposing to soothe. Dwarf tried fleeing—neck wound burst.

Splurt!

Blood gushed nape.

Thud.

Dwarf collapsed.

Uh... umm... not my fault, really.