Unyielding Loyalty and the Disguised Departure
"I'm in the same class as Aleck."
Kind spoke clearly and without flinching, even in front of the Juvenile Stage seniors glaring at him.
"Ha! Look at this punk staring us down."
"What a rude little shit."
"Did he eat his manners for breakfast or what?"
The three Juvenile Stage thugs hurled insults that bordered on outright abuse. Kind didn't back down an inch against the trio who towered over him by a full head. Instead, he met their gazes with eyes blazing fiercely.
This attitude was proof of his unwavering loyalty to Aleck.
"Same class, huh? The way he's flipping out just from us talking about the guy, he seems more like that punk's lackey."
One of them spoke up in a crude, taunting tone. They were the same low-class type that reminded him of his old thug days. Unlike Kind, who had been enlightened by meeting Aleck, these guys were still steeped in their vulgarity.
But Kind had chewed some grass in his youth too—he wasn't one to cower. He shot back without hesitation.
"They say you see what you are in others. Why don't you go find out whose lackey you are? Just because you act like dogs doesn't mean everyone does."
"You little shit...!"
The atmosphere turned hostile in an instant at Kind's retort. It felt like fists would fly at any moment.
Such scenes were rare among ant or bee clans with their rigid hierarchies, but they weren't uncommon among mantis kinds. Unlike ants or bees, mantises weren't social creatures by nature.
Survival of the fittest. The instinct deeply ingrained in their souls favored the strong devouring the weak—the logic of power.
Just as there was no issue with Aleck crushing Motenson, Kind's actions were justified as long as he had the strength. That's why he charged in with fire in his eyes.
"You, fuck off and fight me."
The one with the scar near his eye challenged Kind to a duel.
"Hmph, that's exactly what I want."
Kind glared back, refusing to yield even a word.
Emotions boiled over, and a fight seemed imminent—
"Kind, what's going on?"
Aleck appeared, drenched in sweat. Midway through sparring with Robed, the commotion had naturally drawn his attention. He and Robed halted their match to check it out.
"Aleck..."
Kind bit his lip, still fuming at the arrogant seniors. His expression didn't soften even seeing Aleck.
"The boss is here."
"What, you bitches can't handle it without mommy?"
They mocked Kind relentlessly, barely acknowledging Aleck's arrival.
* * *
Hmm...
I could guess what had happened watching the scene.
Tch, assholes like these are everywhere you go.
I'd dealt with plenty in my past life, so it didn't even surprise me anymore. Back then, my hot temper would've had me beating them down on the spot.
But with 20 years of experience, I knew that wasn't practical.
Mediate first.
I'd just decided to step in when—
"Seniors, what's the problem?"
Robed, standing beside me, spoke up first, addressing the trio.
"Oh! Robed, hey. No big deal—just a little difference of opinion with that punk over there."
I stepped back, arms crossed, watching them switch to buttery tones with her. It was pathetic.
Kind stared at them with utter disbelief too.
"I heard you advanced to Juvenile Stage? That last fight was impressive."
"Yeah, once you're Juvenile, sparring with Infant Stage kids is no fun. If you're advancing, join our class. It's the top one among Juvenile groups—perfect for you."
So that's their game.
I realized their goal. They must've thought Robed was advancing to their Juvenile class.
Advancement: The choice given to those who outpace their Infant or Juvenile peers by molting first. Stay and train with your current group, or move up to a senior class.
This privilege was only for Infant and Juvenile classes, since the gap wasn't huge.
They'd approached to recruit Robed to their class.
They didn't know she was tight with me and Kind.
I clicked my tongue inwardly. If that was their aim, they never should've messed with Kind or me.
Still, I was curious. Would Robed stick with us, or go elsewhere—even without these idiots?
All eyes turned to her, and Robed's lips parted slowly.
"Sorry. I don't want to train with rude people. I'll stick with these friends."
Her calm refusal split reactions—joy and dismay. The trio's faces twisted especially ugly.
Not just rejection; they took it as an insult.
"Heard a promising kid molted, so we came... turns out she's just a retarded bitch."
"...!"
What? Did I hear that right?
I was stunned speechless. These guys were total garbage, spewing double curses like that.
I hadn't expected actual psychos training here.
Even pre-regression assassin Kind wasn't this bad. Must be the warrior class superiority complex.
Glancing at Robed, her face had hardened too. Probably the first time she'd faced such filth.
No backing down for them.
On Abian Continent, females held high status. No need to look far—the insect ecology. Females often had far greater power.
Less so for common species, but still true for primals. Especially legion-based ones with matriarchal queen systems.
Even common species showed respect. Mantises especially...
Tch, once they learn she's the lord's daughter, they'll be ostracized fast.
With me protecting her, Sama Battleground's next lord was Robed in all but name. Cursing her like that? They'd be gone even without intervention.
I shook my head inwardly and stepped forward.
"That's too far. Robed doesn't deserve that language. Apologize."
My voice carried subtle anger and hostility I hadn't intended.
"Oh, now the lackeys are both bitching out."
"Can't deal with you punks. Let's end this here."
Stoked by my words, the trio got even rougher.
I smirked watching them. Fine. If that's what you want, I'll crush you like worms in front of everyone.
I rolled up my sleeves, unable to hold back my rage, when—
"Hey, hey, cut it out, you guys."
Someone who seemed friendly with them appeared to intervene.
Wait, that guy's familiar.
"We're pissed, don't stop us, Chase."
The scarred one's words jogged my memory. The guy I fought in the prelim finals. Chase, right? Hair slicked back now, so I hadn't recognized him at first.
"Guys! You're going too far. Stop it."
"Would you put up with this shit?"
"From where I'm standing, you're the ones in the wrong."
"What? You little—"
They nearly cursed at Chase too. Truly unhinged.
I was more exasperated by the second.
"If you wanna fight for real, do it at the tournament. Rumor is there's a new one replacing Sama Battleground."
"...!"
My eyes lit up at Chase's words. The lord had mentioned countermeasures for the canceled event.
Looks like a new tournament was in the works.
That cooled them? The raging trio nodded.
"Yeah? You punks better show."
"You got lucky today."
They strutted out, full of bravado to the end.
Backing off like that—they couldn't even take on Chase.
"Aleck, right? Sorry about that. I'll apologize on their behalf."
With them gone, Chase bowed to us.
We told him no need—he wasn't at fault; they were.
Garbage is everywhere.
I wanted mantis revival, but not carrying trash like them.
Feels like I'll see them again soon.
They didn't know. The moment they crossed me again, they'd regret today bitterly.
* * *
At dawn, I geared up to leave Sama Battleground. To meet Estelle.
Finally, today—the day to gather materials for molting.
What changes would come with molting?
First Step Toward Megaera Mantis Evolution.
First step toward evolution. Nice. Even recalling it felt promising.
I had a strong hunch that molting to Juvenile this time would bring big changes.
With eager anticipation, I checked the message once more, then slipped to a secluded spot.
No one's around.
Confirming no eyes on me, I stripped off my clothes.
Flipping them inside out transformed them completely. From the black casual wear I'd worn out to pristine white training robes.
Not stopping there, I recalled a technique I knew.
Heavenly Transformation Disguise Art.
Circulating ether per the formula, my face began to shift.
Crack, grind.
The sound of bones realigning echoed only in my ears. My strikingly handsome features blurred into an utterly ordinary, forgettable face.
Success.
First try post-regression, and it worked better than expected. The downside: constant ether control strained my circuits heavily.
Of course, Transcendent Regeneration healed damage instantly, repeating the cycle. But the pain and hunger? All on me.
Perfect now.
Checking my reflection in a mirror stone, I liked it. Needed extra caution now, so no choice but to push it.
Craig's eyes are everywhere.
Already tailed once. Parading out openly from Sama Battleground was begging enemies to grab me.
The outside was lawless. Hence the dual outfit and disguise art.
Mandela, I'll pay you back properly when we meet.
Heavenly Transformation Disguise Art—from thief spider clan's Mandela, the phantom thief. I'd saved her life once and learned it.
Never thought I'd use it post-regression. A blessing in disguise, huh?
Time to go.
Preparations done, I shot out of Sama Battleground like an arrow.