The Ant Tunnels

"I'm competing with my older brother for the position of family heir. I need an achievement worthy of recognition, and I believed that would be the unexplored ruins in the Forest of Resentment."

"But there's no guarantee anything of real value is even there, is there?"

"Haha! You've been playing the clever one this whole time, and now you come out with something that naive? You wouldn't know, being an outlander... There are many nations in the central lands. And they all share one thing in common. Do you know what that is?"

Everyone but Messi seemed to already know the answer.

"I couldn't say. I've never studied human history."

"Every royal house built its kingdom on treasures taken from ancient ruins. Now do you understand why I'm going there? I simply cannot imagine it! A ruin so dangerous that even the Woodcutters abandoned their survey and excavation and won't so much as touch it! Just how staggering must the treasure inside be?!"

Madness, greed, and naked ambition spilled from Ereb's staring eyes. Flushed with excitement, he clenched his fist as if seizing some invisible prize from the empty air.

Perhaps this was what a founding conqueror looked like in his youth — the kind of man who would one day seize a kingdom by sheer force of will.

"...Have you given any thought to how you'll assault something even the Woodcutters gave up on?"

"That's not your concern, Messi. You just do your job. Get us to the destination in one piece."

He wasn't wrong. Messi had no intention of taking part in the exploration itself anyway.

"Very well. As far as the destination, and no further. The guides will not participate in the assault on the ruins. We won't lift a single finger. This time, you'll have to proceed on that trust you so dislike. Do you agree?"

"The same goes for my mercenaries."

Ayla quietly slipped her own condition into the talks.

Ereb scowled, then agreed. He knew he had no choice but to yield again. How was he supposed to win a negotiation against a man who'd rather die than do something he didn't want to do?

He took out his frustration on Ayla instead, his tone dripping with contempt.

"The mercenaries were never part of the plan. You were a discarded card from the start — useful only for getting us as far as the ruins. Don't get any ideas, Captain. Honestly, if it weren't for this guide, I'd have had the lot of you killed."

"Don't you feel even a little sorry for us?"

"Getting played is your own stupidity! And if you make it back alive, you'll have ten gold in commission and a traitor to execute. What exactly is there to complain about?"

Ayla shut her mouth. If she kept talking, she might burst from sheer frustration.

"Still, once everything's over, I'll throw in a success bonus. I'll need your cooperation for what comes next, after all."

"Cooperation? What could a mercenary company of our caliber even do in a place like that?"

Instead of answering, Ereb looked at Messi. He didn't know yet what the mercenaries would be needed for either.

"Ayla, read the materials first, then we'll talk. Make sure you check the revised notes on the last page."

The documents were intelligence from the Sky Castle that Ereb had brought. With every page Ayla turned, the color drained from her face.

"No bleeding allowed... and the monster threat levels... We're going somewhere like this? We'd be better off dying at the knights' hands. At least we wouldn't get eaten."

"Ayla, we're not going to be fighting all forty-eight species listed there."

"Messi, is that supposed to be comforting? Our company couldn't handle even one of those species! The casualties would be enormous... and you're telling us to just accept this?"

Ayla threw everything she had into denying a reality she was powerless to change. She knew it was pointless. Refuse, and they would simply fight the knights again and die.

For her sake, Messi had to be firm.

"Let me make one thing clear first. I am not a member of the Red Fox Mercenary Group, and I have neither the responsibility nor the obligation to keep every one of those mercenaries alive. As a guide, I'll simply do my best."

"I know... I know that. I'm grateful for everything you've done for us so far. But this... this is a death sentence."

Suddenly, Ayla dropped to her knees and bowed her head toward Ereb. It was her last resort. She had laid everything down.

Pride. Rank. Even her own life.

Ereb clicked his tongue, but said nothing more. He had no intention of letting the mercenaries go either.

A brief silence fell.

It was Messi who broke it. He took Ayla by the arm and pulled her to her feet.

"Ayla. Get up. If you want to survive, listen carefully to what I'm about to say."

"...What?"

Messi held up two fingers — index and middle.

"I'm going to present two options to Ayla and the young master. These are the relatively safe routes through the Forest of Resentment."

Every eye in the room lit up. This was a matter of ambition and survival.

"Finally, something useful. Out with it, outlander!"

"...The first is to break through the forest by the shortest path. It's nearly a straight line to the Woodsman's Fortress. However... we'll collide with three monster settlements. We'll have to shake them off and run with as little damage as possible."

Not going to be easy, Ramang muttered under his breath.

Ereb's face twisted as well. He didn't need to ask which three species. The monsters listed in the Sky Castle's intelligence were nothing to take lightly.

"And the other option?"

Messi folded the remaining finger and spoke with finality, as if this were the last resort.

"The second is to go through the Ant Tunnels underground."

The Ant Tunnels.

No matter how he turned it over, this was the best path. Messi believed that with complete sincerity. From the moment he'd learned he was being forcibly conscripted as a guide, from the moment Leto had urged him to run — the first thing that had come to mind was the ant tunnels.

At their ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠level, they can't fight the monsters of the forest. Using some as bait and circling around is the only other answer, but the casualties would be massive and the risk enormous. The ant tunnels are the only real option.

Messi waited in silence for Ereb's decision. Tap, tap. Ereb drummed his index finger on the desk, then suddenly asked:

"Why? You leave the shortest route on the table, then talk as if you want us to pick the ant tunnels."

"I wasn't telling you that you have to choose the ant tunnels. I'm simply giving you a guide's judgment that it's the best option."

"Why? Simply because fewer mercenaries would die?"

Ereb did not value mercenary lives in the slightest. They weren't even a factor in his calculations. If Messi answered yes here, countless mercenaries would be sent to their deaths.

He could feel Ayla's tension from where she stood beside him. Fair enough — his answer would decide their future.

But Messi's expression didn't change at all as he answered.

"No. As a guide, I have no confidence I can lead you safely along the shortest route. I do have confidence I can get you through the longest one unharmed."

"Heh. So you only considered a guide's duty, is that it?"

Ereb didn't believe him. He was the type who trusted no one to begin with, but this time even more so.

That outlander has affection for humans. That's why he lives in a human village. There's no way a man like that didn't factor in the mercenaries' lives.

Which makes him all the more trustworthy, doesn't it?

If Messi had been a cold-blooded man with no feelings for humans at all, Ereb would have been in a far more awkward position. There would have been nothing to grab him by. He'd have to use the man while constantly worrying when he might turn.

As long as I keep those villagers close, he won't be able to get any other ideas.

Ereb's thoughts wandered. Messi added more.

"And... the ant tunnels would let us make the most of the resources we have."

"Resources?"

"The mercenaries. There's nothing in the Forest of Resentment they can actually fight... but ants are different. Worker ants are the weakest creatures in the entire forest."

"If they're that weak, it'd be more reliable to just use the knights."

"Do knights have infinite stamina?"

No, they didn't.

Messi's answer struck the heart of the matter so cleanly that Ereb nearly shook his head. He was beginning to notice something about himself. It was an irritating fact, but he was being drawn in by this outlander's words.

"Sir Ramang."

"Yes, young master."

Messi's persuasion had succeeded. Ereb left without waiting for Ramang's reply.

"Ant tunnels... ant tunnels, at my age...!"

The village chief collapsed to the ground and wailed. Nobody paid him any mind. Only Leto patted him on the shoulder.

Ayla approached Messi to express her gratitude.

"Thank you... I've ended up owing you again."

Messi studied Ayla's face. The weight of eighty lives seemed to be crushing her with stress. She was blaming herself on top of it — of course she looked terrible. She hadn't even shown her face at last night's drinking party.

"Ayla... please, get stronger."

"...Me?"

"I'm not talking about physical strength. I know it's not my place to say this to someone who's spent years as a mercenary... but no matter how well-trained the body, a soft heart will always have its limits."

Soft... It had been a very long time since anyone had called her that.

"It's true, though. It's time you truly tempered yourself, Ayla. You need to become someone strong enough that losing comrades won't break you."

"Thank you. I'll take that to heart."

"Heh. An adult's advice becomes blood and flesh, as they say."

"...I've heard that somewhere before."

When Messi threw her own words right back at her, Ayla's face flushed red.

"But Ayla. As I said before, I can't guarantee everyone's safety. If we need sacrificial lambs, you need to decide in advance... who you'll send. There won't be time to think about it once we're in the forest or the tunnels. There will be casualties. That's certain."

The ant tunnels were no easy place either. They would have to fight a countless imperial army of ants determined to kill the invaders and protect their queen. Time to hesitate there would be a luxury they couldn't afford.

Ayla was someone who had weathered harsh lands and hard trials. She had already anticipated as much. She nodded in answer and left the tent.

It was time to steel herself.

The decisions made in the tent spread among the mercenaries almost immediately through Ereb's announcement.

He'd extracted full authority from that arrogant noble?

Everyone's shock was only natural. What's more, the other party in the negotiation had been an outlander. A noble yielding a step to an outlander — the ripple effect was enormous.

Some of the knights nearly voiced their objections, but Ramang's roar of command and the officers' firm justification — that they needed this outlander to achieve their objective — kept them from showing it. There would be discontent beneath the surface, though, and Ereb knew it could surface at any moment.

He had, in effect, gambled his own honor.

If I succeed, I can restore my crushed honor as much as I want. Even if Father chooses my brother, my success will make him look again, and my position will be more solid than anyone's. I'll make it so!

Since he'd already decided to give Messi full authority, he might as well go all in. In front of everyone, he asked Messi:

"Hey, Messi. Need anything else?"

"The discord between the knights and the mercenaries is severe enough that it'll interfere with what comes next. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠The two groups need to recognize that they're bound by a shared fate now. If things continue like this, something's going to blow."

"Hmm... you're right. So?"

"Break out the wine and food. There's nothing like a drinking party for burying old grudges, is there?"

"Haha, for an outlander, you understand human nature well. Fine! Sir Ramang, break out as much wine and food as you like!"

Messi had asked Ereb for wine and food the way Andy Dufresne had talked a prison warden into beer in The Shawshank Redemption — and he'd gotten it.

So much wine and food was distributed that some of the knights and attendants were even assigned to return to the village to restock supplies.

"Is this a dream or is this real?"

"Damn it, who cares! Just drink! ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠They're even taking us off night watch tonight! Eat, drink, and to hell with tomorrow!"

For the mercenaries, the day had swung from heaven to hell and back. Mere hours ago they'd been trying to kill each other; now they were sharing cups.

But one thing was clear.

That outlander had put his life on the line to negotiate on their behalf. As a guide, the feud between knights and mercenaries had nothing to do with him. His value was high enough that he'd survive even if every mercenary died.

And yet he had acted for the mercenaries' sake.

That had a profound impact.

"Messi! Have a drink on me!"

"Thank you, really, truly thank you! I thought I'd never make it home alive... Thank you so much!"

"You're a savior ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to my family! My mother will pray for you every night!"

Drunken mercenaries crowded around Messi, pouring out their joy in slurred gratitude. Messi smiled and took it all in. This time, there was no need for Leto's hunter's sign language. They were actually talking.

And in the midst of it, there was an unexpected bonus.

"If you ever have reason to come to the central lands, make sure you look up my family. The Huang Merchant Group of Lester is our house. I'm Bettis Huang."

"What, you're a son of the Huang Merchant Group? That's filthy rich... Why the hell are you working as a mercenary?"

"Haha... I've got eight older brothers above me. There's nothing left for me to do in the company."

"Damn, still a lucky bastard!"

In a world where allies were scarce, gaining a friendly connection was a good thing. And if even Uncle Leto was surprised at the name "Huang," the family had to be quite substantial.

The drinking party continued to warm. The village chief had apparently resolved to drink every drop of liquor in the camp, having become a vessel of pure appetite, while Leto sat beside him, chatting with the mercenaries and building camaraderie.

And Messi, for the first time in a long while, was able to get drunk and laugh with genuine joy.