The adrenaline of the battle had evaporated, leaving behind a cold, aching exhaustion that settled deep into the bones of every survivor.
The bloodied Chamber, once a hive of screeching death, was now a silent tomb, save for the rhythmic dripping of cooling ichor and the ragged breathing of the wounded.
Antares stood in the center of the carnage, wiping the green-black blood of the Brood Mother from his face with a rag handed to him by Eli.
"Secure this place," Antares ordered, his voice rasping slightly. "I don't want any surprises while we tend to the wounded."
"The perimeter is clear for now, Sire," Yanrid reported, stepping over the severed massive leg of a giant spider. "But the smell... it is potent. If we leave these carcasses here, we will attract scavengers... they will all come to the feast and with them, they will bring more battles."
Antares nodded grimly. "Then we clean this place up. Levi, Eli, grab the smaller ones. Yanrid, help me with the Queen. We take them outside."
The cleanup was a gruesome task. The Antmen, despite their immense physical strength, they struggled under the weight of the Sanguine Arachnids. These creatures were dense, their bodies packed with heavy muscle and thick, armored chitin.
Antares grabbed one of the Brood Mother's massive front legs, while Yanrid took the other. They heaved, dragging the multi-ton monstrosity across the slick floor.
"She's heavy," Yanrid grunted, his boots slipping on the resin. "She must have been eating well."
"She most likely ate millions and when her reserves would end, she would come for our people" Antares muttered, a dark look crossing his face. "Or at least was planning to."
They reached the cave mouth, where the wind from the blizzard outside whipped at their faces, cooling the sweat on their skin. They heaved the Queen's body onto a pile of her slain children.
It was a mound of red death, a testament to the violence that had just occurred.
As Antares prepared to summon his fire, a sudden pulse of mana caught his attention. It came from the Queen's exposed thorax, where Eos had carved it open.
[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION]
[Item Detected: Heart of the Sanguine Matriarch]
[Grade: A Rank Organic Material]
[Description: A highly condensed mana-organ capable of processing raw blood into energy. Essential ingredient for 'Titan's Blood Serum' (Strength +30%, Vitality +20%).]
Antares paused. Titan's Blood Serum?
He walked over to the carcass and reached into the gory mess of the chest cavity. He pulled out a pulsating, fist-sized organ. It glowed with a rhythmic, sickly amber light, beating slowly against his palm. It felt warm, almost feverish.
"Sire?" Levi asked, watching with a mixture of curiosity and disgust. "What is that?"
"The heart of the queen." Antares said, holding it up. "My intuition tells me this is valuable. Yanrid, do you have a containment box? Something insulated?"
Yanrid rummaged through his pack and produced a lead-lined box usually meant for storing volatile mana crystals. "Will this do?"
"Perfect." Antares placed the heart inside and sealed it. "We keep this. It's a resource for the future. As for the rest..."
He stepped back and raised his hand. The air around his palm distorted as he channeled his mana.
"Burn," he commanded.
A torrent of crimson fire erupted from his hand. It wasn't normal fire; it was mana-infused flame, hot enough to melt stone. It washed over the pile of arachnids, instantly vaporizing the fluids and cracking the chitin.
The smell was horrendous like burning hair and sulfur but the cold wind carried it away into the vast emptiness of the Godwall.
Antares watched until the pile was nothing but ash.
"It is done," he said, turning back to the cave. "Now, the real work begins."
Inside the cave, the atmosphere had shifted from combat to triage. A section of the floor had been cleared and scrubbed as clean as possible. Light crystals were set up in a circle, casting a clean, white light over the wounded.
Riya, the expedition's head healer, was on her knees in the center of the circle. She was a slender Antwoman with compassionate eyes, but right now, those eyes were narrowed in extreme concentration. Her hands glowed with a soft green light as she hovered over the body of Kian, the youngest of Kael's three sons.
Antares approached quietly. He could feel the tension radiating off her.
"Riya," he said softly.
She flinched but didn't look up. Her hands never stopped moving, weaving complex patterns of mana into the boy's chest.
"Forgive me, my King," she whispered, sweat dripping from her face. "I cannot bow. If I move I might kill him."
"Do what you must" Antares said, kneeling beside her. "Just tell me. How is he?"
Riya bit her lip. "It is... bad, Sire. The spiders didn't just drain his blood, they drained his very essence. His mana circuits are damaged. And there is the presence of a toxin a toxin I've never dealt with in his system that resists my healing magic. It's quite tenacious."
Antares looked at the boy. Kian looked like a ghost. His skin was translucent, his breathing shallow and rattling.
"Can we move him?" Antares asked. "The Palace has the alchemy labs. We have better supplies there."
Riya shook her head violently. "Impossible. His life force is currently being held together by a thread, Sire. The vibrations made while flying, the cold... it would snap that thread instantly. If we move him before I can stabilize his him, he will be dead before we can make half the way."
The silence that followed was heavy.
The other soldiers present looked at each other uneasily. They were deep in enemy territory, tired, wounded, and now anchored by a dying boy.
"We stay," Antares said firmly. "We don't leave our own."
"But Sire," a scout spoke up, stepping forward with a bandage wrapped around his head. "We are exposed here. The burning corpses... the scent might be gone, but the noise of the battle surely traveled through the tunnels. If more of them come... we are in no condition to fight a second wave."
"He is right," Yanrid said, walking into the circle. He looked exhausted, his ice-blue armor cracked in several places. "This cave system is connected to the lower vents. We are sitting ducks."
Antares stood up, his mind racing. "So we simply need a barrier to block any unwanted guests ." He looked at Yanrid who later understood what his king wanted him to do.
"I make a wall," Yanrid suggested. "I have enough mana left for one major working. I can seal the tunnel entrance Ice. It will be hard as iron and airtight. It will mask our scent and buy us time."
"Do it," Antares said. "Seal us in."
"Wait!"
The shout came from one of the other stretchers. Torin, the eldest of Kael's sons, struggled to sit up. He pushed away the scout trying to restrain him, his face flushed with fever and desperation.
"Torin, lie down!" Riya snapped, her focus momentarily breaking. "You have three broken ribs!"
"I don't care about my ribs!" Torin gasped, clutching his side. "King Antares... please! You cannot seal the tunnel! Not yet!"
Antares walked over to the boy. Torin looked strikingly like Kael ,the same square jaw, the same stubborn set of the eyes. But right now, he looked terrified.
"Why, Torin?" Antares asked calmly. "Why should I risk the lives of everyone here by leaving the entrance open?"
"Because of what we found!" Torin coughed, spitting a little blood. "Before the spiders took us... we were exploring the lower vents. That's why we came so deep! We found it, Sire! We found the veins!"
The room went quiet.
"Veins?" Antares asked.
"Mythril," Torin whispered, his eyes shining with a manic intensity. "And Gold. And Copper. Not just trace amounts, Sire. Massive, thick veins of ore running through the walls of the lower chasm. It's a fortune! It's enough metal to arm the entire tribe for a thousand years!"
A murmur ran through the soldiers. Mythril was legendary. It was lighter than steel, harder than diamond, and conducted mana perfectly. A single dagger of Mythril was worth a castle in the human kingdoms.
"He's hallucinating," Hareth one of the wounded scouts scoffed, shaking his head. "The fever is talking. Sire, with all respect, the Godwall has been barren for centuries, it was mined dry during the golden age. There is nothing down there but rocks and monster shit."
"I am not hallucinating!" Torin screamed, tears forming in his eyes. "I saw it! The walls glowed! Blue for Mythril, Red for the Copper! I touched it! It was cold and smooth! We have to go back! We have to mark the spot before you seal it off! If we leave now, we might never find that vent again!"
"Sit down, boy," Hareth said, reaching out to push Torin back. "You're going to hurt yourself."
"NO!" Torin slapped the scout's hand away. He looked at Antares, pleading. "Sire, please! My brothers... Kian is dying! If we go back with nothing... then his pain is for nothing! But if we bring back the location of a Mythril mine... then we are heroes! Then it was worth it! Don't you see?"
Antares looked down at the boy. He saw the desperation. It wasn't greed, it was guilt. Torin had led his brothers into this hell. He needed a reason for their suffering. He needed to present his father with a prize that outweighed the blood on his hands.
Antares extended his senses. He activated his [Royal Presence], a passive skill that allowed him to sense the intent of his subjects. Antmen were biologically wired to be truthful to their King, but delirium could mask lies as truth.
He felt... certainty. Torin believed what he was saying with every fiber of his being. There was no deception. No fever-dream confusion. The boy had seen the metal.
"He is telling the truth," Antares said quietly.
The murmuring stopped instantly. Hareth looked at Antares, eyes wide. "Sire? You believe him? But the records..."
"The records are centuries years old," Antares said, his voice filling the room. "The earth moves. Mountains shift. Veins that were hidden can be revealed. Torin isn't lying."
Torin slumped back, a look of immense relief washing over him. "Thank you... thank you, Sire. So... we will go?"
Antares knelt down so he was eye-level with the boy. He placed a hand on Torin's shoulder.
"No."
Torin froze. "W-what?"
"We are not going down there," Antares said, his voice gentle but immovable. "Not today."
"But... the Mythril..." Torin stammered. "It's a fortune! It's everything the tribe needs!"
"Is it?" Antares asked. He pointed to Kian, who was gasping for air under Riya's hands. "Is that Mythril or any other metal worth his life? Is it worth the lives of our people waiting for our return?"
Torin looked at his dying brother, then back at the King. "I... I just wanted to make it right. I wanted to pay for my mistake."
"Torin," Antares said. "If we go down that tunnel now, exhausted and wounded, searching for a vent in the dark, we will be attacked again. And this time, I doubt that we would win. And then, who will tell your father what happened? Who will carry your brothers home?"
Torin began to cry, silent sobs that shook his battered frame. "I'm sorry... I'm so sorry. It's my fault. I dragged them here."
"Listen to me," Antares said, gripping the boy's shoulder firmly. "You have the heart of an explorer. You found what no one else could find. That is a gift. But a leader must know when to stop. Today, the mission is survival. The Mythril will not run away. The Gold will not rot. It has waited in the dark for a thousand years; it can wait a few more months."
Antares stood up and addressed the whole room.
"I promise you this. We will return. When we are healed, when we are armed, and when we are ready. We will come back to this mountain with an army of miners and we will strip it bare. The Godwall will become the forge of our Kingdom. But that is for the future. Today, our priority is to save our kin."
"I apologize for my selfishness your Majesty." Torin said with teary eyes
He looked down at Torin. "You don't need to apologize to me for being ambitious. But when you get home, you will look your father in the eye, and you will apologize for risking your brothers's lives. Do you understand?"
Torin wiped his eyes and nodded, sniffing. "Yes, Sire. I understand."
"Good." Antares turned to Yanrid. "Commander Yanrid. Seal the door."
Yanrid nodded. He walked to the tunnel entrance. He raised both hands, and a massive surge of mana flooded the air. The temperature dropped twenty degrees in a second.
From the floor and ceiling, massive shards of ice erupted. They slammed together, interlocking like the teeth of a giant beast. Within seconds, the dark tunnel was gone, replaced by a wall of translucent blue ice, thick and impenetrable.
The sound of the wind outside was cut off. The cave became a sealed capsule of silence.
Antares let out a long breath and sat down on a crate near the medical circle. He watched Riya.
She was failing.
The burst of adrenaline that had sustained her during the battle was gone. Now, she was running on fumes. Her green light was flickering, sputtering like a dying candle. Her skin was grey, and her hands were trembling so badly she could barely trace the runes on Kian's chest.
"Riya," Antares said.
"I... I can do it..." she mumbled, her eyes glazed over. "Just... a little more..."
"You're out of mana," Yanrid observed grimly from the door. "If she passes out, the connection breaks, and the boy dies."
Antares gritted his teeth. He felt helpless. He was a warrior, a destroyer. He could burn a thousand spiders, but he couldn't stitch a single mana circuit.
System, he thought. Do I have any potions? Anything?
Suddenly, a bright blue holographic screen popped into existence in front of his face, startling him.
[NOTIFICATION LOG]
[10:00 AM] - Enemy Defeated: Sanguine Spider (x45). +4,500 Essence Points.
[10:15 AM] - Enemy Defeated: Brood Mother. +5,000 Essence Points.
[10:20 AM] - SYSTEM ALERT: Essence Point Capacity Reached.
[CURRENT BALANCE: 10,000 / 10,000 EP]
[WARNING: Further points will be discarded until EP is spent.]
Antares stared at the number. Ten thousand?
"System!" he hissed in his mind. "Why didn't you tell me I capped out? I've been walking around with a full bank while my people are bleeding?"
[RESPONSE: User explicitly commanded System to "Shut the hell up and let me sleep" a week and three days ago at 06:00 AM. User subsequently selected "Mute all non-critical combat notifications." System has complied.]
Antares rubbed his temples. He remembered that morning. He had been very hungover from the Stonefang feast and the System had woken him up to tell him about a daily quest to 'stretch his legs.'
"Okay, fair point," Antares admitted internally. "I was grumpy. Unmute everything. Now, look at Riya. She's dying of exhaustion, and she's taking the boy with her. I have 10,000 points. Fix this."
The screen shifted instantly, bringing up a profile of Riya.
[TARGET ANALYSIS: Riya (B Rank Healer Ant)]
[STATUS: Critical Mana Depletion. Physical Exhaustion.]
[AVAILABLE EVOLUTION PATHS:]
1. High-Priestess of the Mound (Cost: 2000 EP) Focus: Mass buffing and morale. Less effective for surgery.
2. Bio-Alchemist (Cost: 1500 EP) Focus: Potion creation and poison. Combat support.
3. Master Medical Antwoman (Cost: 500 EP) Focus: Surgical precision, cellular regeneration, mana-efficiency. Grants passive skill: 'Sterile Field' and active skill: 'Life-Weave'.
Antares didn't hesitate. "Option 3. Do it now."
[CONFIRMED. DEDUCTING 500 EP. INITIATING EVOLUTION.]
Antares stood up and walked over to Riya. She looked up at him, her eyes dim, her body swaying.
"Sire... I..."
"Shh," Antares hushed her. He placed his hand gently on her head.
"You've done enough, Riya. Let me carry the burden for a moment."
"System now." he commanded.
A blinding column of light erupted from Antares's hand. It wasn't the red light of destruction; it was a pure, brilliant white light that smelled of ozone and fresh rain.
The soldiers gasped, shielding their eyes.
"He's at it again." Eli whispered.
"The same way he did with us." Yanrid replied, watching closely.
The light enveloped Riya. Her body began to change. directly putting her in her full insectoid form, Her chitin, which was a dull, dusty brown, began to shed. Underneath, a new layer formed—smooth, polished, and white as ivory. Her antennae grew longer and more elegant, pulsing with a steady green rhythm. Her limbs slightly elongated, her fingers becoming more slender and dexterous.
The light faded.
Riya took a deep breath. It wasn't a gasp of exhaustion; it was a breath of pure life. Her eyes snapped open. They were no longer the dull black of a worker; they were a vibrant, glowing emerald.
She looked at her hands. Sparks of green electricity danced between her fingertips.
"My King..." she whispered, her voice sounding clearer, more resonant. "I... I can see everything."
She looked down at Kian. Before, she had been fumbling in the dark. Now, with her upgraded perception, she could see every damaged cell, every ruptured mana circuit as clearly as a map.
"The blockage is in the third meridian," she said, her voice commanding. She didn't hesitate. Her fingers moved in a blur of motion. [Life-Weave] activated.
Threads of pure mana stitched the boy's core together. The color returned to Kian's cheeks in seconds. His breathing deepened, shifting from a death rattle to a steady, peaceful rhythm.
Riya turned to the next patient—a scout with a crushed leg. "You. Bring him here. I will knit the bone."
She was a machine of mercy. She moved with an efficiency that was terrifying to behold. In ten minutes, she did what would have taken a team of healers ten hours.
Antares sat back down on his crate, watching her work. He felt a wave of immense satisfaction.
"Five hundred points," he muttered to himself, a small smile playing on his lips. "Best bargain I ever made."
"Sire?" Yanrid asked, approaching him. "The boy is stable. The others are resting. Riya... whatever she is now... she has the situation under total control."
"She is a Master Medical Antwoman now," Antares said, closing his eyes. "And we are going to need her more than ever since we still have more wounded."
"We can never make it back to camp tonight," Yanrid noted. "The men need to recover before we move."
"Then we camp here," Antares said, leaning his head back against the stone wall. "We sleep behind your ice wall. We recover. And tomorrow... tomorrow we take our people back home."
The cave settled into a quiet hum of activity. The fear was gone, replaced by the deep, abiding security of a pack that knew their Alpha was watching over them. Antares listened to the steady breathing of his men, and for the first time in days, he had a sigh of relief.