Meribel scoffed. “What doesn’t it? Those, excuse my language, scum-suckers decided it would be a good idea for them to carry the egg while our group—considering there are more of us—acted as vanguard.”

  “More of you?” Hector frowned.

  The woman’s face fell, energy draining from her frame as her shoulders slumped. “There were more of us earlier. But the insects slaughtered most of us. Dragged off the bodies, didn’t even give us a chance to do anything.”

  Silence settled across the chamber.

  Even Lincoln paused his digging for a heartbeat.

  “Damn bastards.” The blonde woman spat before turning to the woman beside her.

  The second woman in this group had black hair pulled back into a tight ponytail, with strands loosely hanging around her face. A bandage made from what looked like a torn tunic wrapped around her left leg, the fabric stained dark in places. Unsurprisingly, she favoured her right leg. And with exhaustion written across every line of her face, she seemed done. Finished with everything.

  “Meribel,” she breathed. “For now, I hold our comrades in my heart. But I just want to get out of here.” Her gaze lifted, meeting the blonde woman’s eyes. “We can deal with what comes later.”

  Meribel frowned, green eyes moving from the injured woman to the man with the scarred cheek. “Are you hearing this, Tyler? Caris wants to let those bastards off.”

  The second man in their group stepped forward, muscular arms bulging. It was clear he trained consistently when not trapped in a hive.

  He scratched the back of his head, expression caught between sympathy and pragmatism. “Calm, Meribel, I don’t think that’s what Caris is saying. But you have to admit, survival takes priority in this case.”

  He turned to Tyler, seeking support.

  “Alright, alright.” Tyler raised his hands, pushing down at the air in a calming gesture. “Let it go for now.” Then he turned back to Hector, with the same reverent expression settling across his features. “Senior, we’ll have to ask that you pass judgment on those who betrayed us and left us here to die.”

  Him? Pass judgment?

  Hector blinked. His gaze shifted between Jodie and Lincoln.

  There wasn’t exactly much judgment they could pass. These people would realise that once they understood he and his friends weren’t actually Core Formation cultivators.

  And even then, the Black Bridge company and its leader were still on relatively good terms with Raquel.

  Hector was slowly giving up on the idea that they shouldn’t get involved with the trial realm’s politics. This situation concerned people from the slums—potential future allies. He was bound to help where he could.

  But could they really accuse the Blackbridge Company while having almost no evidence?

  Sure, this many survivors as witnesses counted for something. But still.

  The situation felt messier than simple right and wrong.

  “We’ll see,” Hector said, keeping his tone as neutral as possible. The last thing he needed was to sound like he was committing fully when he didn’t even know his level of influence on a topic like this. “First, let’s focus on getting everyone out alive. Then we can worry about what comes next.”

  Tyler nodded, accepting his words with visible relief. The man had probably been worried Hector would refuse entirely.

  “Alright, everyone,” Tyler called, turning to address the survivors. “Line up. Single file. We’re moving out as soon as the rubble has been cleared.”

  People moved immediately. Some helped others to their feet—arms slung over shoulders, supporting weight. Two men lifted the unconscious figures Hector had noticed earlier, carrying them on their backs. Still clutching his talismans, Brick stood and moved to grab the handles of a stretcher propped against the wall.

  The man on the stretcher stirred slightly, and Hector made out the same green badge Tyler was wearing on his chest as the man tightened his grip on a handful of paper slips. More talismans. Someone, maybe Brick, had probably told him to use them if things went wrong.

  A few moments later, Lincoln pulled away the last major chunk of stone, the entrance now fully clear.

  “Ready?” Hector asked.

  Tyler nodded. The other mercenaries fell into position—two at the front, two at the back, protecting the injured civilians between them. It was a lineup that gave Hector pause, as the amount of persistence the injured Caris was showing couldn’t be scoffed at.

  If nothing else, this group of mercenaries had discipline.

  “Stay close,” Hector said. “Stay quiet. Jodie will lead. If she signals you to stop, you freeze immediately. Understood?”

  Murmurs of agreement rippled through the group.

  After a few more scattered nods, they moved out.

  —- —- —- —-

  Jodie led at the very front and took care to keep her face out of the sight of others. Her transformed nose led them through the tunnels, with what Hector assumed would be the ease of a bloodhound tracking a fox.

  Her head would tilt, nostrils flaring, then she’d gesture—left, right, wait. The group followed her signals without question, pressing against walls when chittering echoed too close, ducking low when shadows moved overhead.

  The hive writhed with activity around them. Scores of bugs skittered through passages in clusters, mandibles clicking in sharp bursts of communication. But they never came close. Never seemed to notice the line of humans creeping through their territory.

  It should have been reassuring.

  Instead, Hector’s shoulders grew tighter with every minute that passed.

  Twice, Jodie signalled for a complete stop. She’d point at a specific tunnel intersection, then make a slashing motion across her throat. Tyler and the other mercenaries would nod, understanding immediately.

  Scouts.

  The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

  Individual ants positioned at key junctions, probably waiting there to relay any information back to the hive at speed.

  Jodie would move forward alone, mask in place, movements silent. A minute would pass. Two. Then she’d reappear, fingers dripping with green ichor.

  The scouts never made a sound.

  With only these minor events, the group continued winding through passages that all still looked identical to Hector. Even if he used [Crowd Compass], it would be more than a pain to navigate out of her. But Jodie seemed to know exactly where she was going, nose leading them through the practical maze with confidence.

  Behind him, Hector heard quiet conversations, whispers too low to make out words. Survivors most likely trying to keep their spirits up.

  Through it all, Brick struggled with the stretcher, the makeshift handles digging into his palms. But he never complained. Just kept pulling, jaw set with determination. Hector couldn’t help but wonder why, and if there was a connection between him and the man he was carrying.

  They passed through wider chambers where bioluminescent bulbs clumped in thick clusters, their light painting everything in bluish-purple hues. Through narrow passages, where the ceiling pressed so low that everyone had to hunch. Past intersections where the floor dropped away into darkness that seemed to breathe.

  And through it all, no pursuit.

  No sudden screech of alarm.

  No horde of bugs rapidly descending on their position.

  Just... nothing.

  —- —- —- —-

  Wind rustled through Hector’s hair as they emerged from the cave entrance.

  He frowned.

  Something was most definitely wrong.

  “Jodie.” He turned toward the girl, who broke off mid-conversation with Meribel.

  “What’s up, Hector?” Her gaze moved toward the large cave opening behind them, now a dark maw against the hillside. “Is there a problem?”

  “I’m not sure.” Hector shook his head. Maybe he was just being paranoid.

  But those bugs were smart. They’d coordinated their ambush with far too much foresight. Communicated through pheromones and sound. And with the attack on the fort, it was clear they could adapt to the challenges presented to them.

  And now they’d just let a group of humans walk straight out of their hive?

  It made no sense. Not even if they’d got lucky, because no one was that lucky.

  “Your [Blazing Arsenal] recovered fully, right?”

  Jodie nodded slowly, understanding creeping into her gaze.

  “Good.”

  Hector reached for the familiar tug at the back of his mind. The Talent responded immediately, energy surging through his chest, racing through his body.

  A few feet from where he stood, the ground bubbled. Stone melted in an instant, turning molten. Orange and red light spilt upward, casting writhing shadows across startled faces. The air shimmered with heat, that familiar molten scent filling his lungs.

  Above the pool’s surface, a sphere of fire began forming.

  The fireball grew, fed by the fire beneath it, flames licking upward in hungry tongues. It hung there, crackling and spitting sparks, painting the cave entrance in apocalyptic light.

  Tyler and his mercenaries stumbled back, eyes wide.

  “Senior...” Tyler’s voice came out rough. Awed.

  Hector ignored him. His attention stayed fixed on the cave entrance, on the darkness beyond, on the too-quiet hive that had let them walk away.

  —- —- —- —-

  The forest floor crunched beneath Hector’s feet. Hundreds of insectoid legs had pressed dry leaves and splintered branches into mulch. Having once been so dense, the trees now lay toppled at odd angles, bark stripped away to reveal pale wood gouged with deep furrows.

  The bugs that had attacked the fort hours earlier had carved a path of destruction through the woodland, trampling the earth. Leaving a wake of ruined vegetation.

  Lincoln kept pace beside him, spear resting across his shoulders. All the while, his gaze swept left and right as occasional rays of sunlight that pierced the canopy overhead glinted off the weapon’s shaft.

  Behind them, Tyler’s boots struck ground in a steady rhythm. Still quite flustered, Meribel matched his stride, blonde bob swinging with each step, green eyes alert despite the exhaustion written across her features. Never once did she let her sword slip from in front of her, not having sheathed it since they’d left the hive.

  The injured clustered in the middle of their column—a shuffling mass of limping gaits and supported weight. Among them, one man leaned heavily on a woman’s shoulder. Another clutched his ribs, face pale and jaw tight.

  Brick moved among them, dragging the barely conscious man on uneven ground. Even now, Hector still didn’t understand their relationship, not that he’d had the time to ask. But as they moved, the stretcher caught on roots and stones, jolting with each obstacle, but Brick never slowed.

  A little way at the back of the group, Jodie brought up the rear, her blue eyes alert. They darted from tree to tree almost frantically. It was as if she expected a Shadow Wyrm to jump down from the canopy at any moment. Samuel walked beside her, exposed muscular arms bulging slightly with every movement, keeping a close eye on Caris.

  Who limped beside him, the makeshift bandage around her leg dark with dried blood. She shouldn’t be walking, but she wanted to, even demanding they not baby her. Admirable, if a little annoying. She was only slowing them down, after all.

  Hector turned forward again.

  They had far too many injured to move at any speed. But that wasn’t the main issue. No, the bugs took that spot, those—

  “Do you really feel it was right to blow up the entrance?” Lincoln’s voice cut through Hector’s spiralling thoughts. His eyes narrowed, gaze darting backwards as if he could spot pursuing insects through the trees. The question had clearly been eating at him since Hector sealed the hive.

  But with the fort visible through the treeline ahead, he probably felt that jinxing things would be less likely. “I mean, I don’t doubt the logic,” he continued, shifting his spear to his other shoulder, “but like you said when I suggested the same thing about the tunnel I dug. Won’t you blowing the thing up, just call them on us?”

  “Maybe.”

  Hector’s attention snagged on a man carrying an injured woman on his back. Her head wrapped in blood-soaked bandages, she barely seemed conscious—chin lolling against the man’s shoulder, arms dangling loose at his sides. Every few steps, he adjusted his grip, fingers digging into her thighs to keep her from sliding.

  Would the fort even be able to care for these people? They needed serious help, and healing pills might not be enough to do it, at least not low-level ones. Not that low-levels were cheap. Hector sighed, focusing back on Lincoln’s question.

  Whether sealing the entrance would alert the bugs didn’t really matter. Hector’s gut had screamed that something was wrong with them just letting the group walk away. Even the bug’s act of searching had felt hollow, like a parent pretending they couldn’t see the child’s foot from under the curtain.

  The level of intelligence these creatures displayed had crossed from concerning to downright unnerving. They had a plan. But whatever it was, it remained unclear. For now, at least.

  “Maybe?” Lincoln scratched at his head; the word seemed to have caught him off guard. “Are you telling me you didn’t even think about what if they’d come after us?” He asked it as if Hector had just sacrificed them all on a whim.

  Hector’s eye twitched.

  He had half a mind to smack the boy upside his dull head. How was that the explanation Lincoln jumped to? Did he really believe Hector was that reckless?

  Though Hector supposed that in the eyes of someone who’d been avoiding fights with animals until recently, he might look that way.

  With a stifled sigh, he squinted at Lincoln. Was he the only one who saw him as careless? And if not, why did others so readily trust him?

  “Movement!” Meribel’s sharp voice cut through his thoughts. She pointed left, sword rising. “In the bushes—”

  Hector reached for the familiar pull in the back of his mind. [Crowd Compass] pinged to life, information flooding his awareness. Positions. Directions. Numbers.

  A lot of numbers.

  Bugs. Closing in from three sides, right, left and behind, their loose groups forming up and tightening.

  “Everyone, run!” The words ripped from his throat. “Now!”