The conditions resembled the brood chamber—but only at first glance. There was warmth, light, and a sense of order, and that was where the similarity ended. The light came from bioluminescent fungi, dotted along the ground and tracing shallow grooves in the earth.
The smell was familiar—damp soil, tinged with iron.
The walls were marked by dark stains, and in places the surface glistened, sticky to the eye.
When he looked at the queen's attendants, a trace of pity surfaced. They were few in number. Injured. Some limbless. Their state was clearly his doing. And if even the queen's companions looked like this, it was obvious—the colony was already dying.
One worker cleaned her.
Another dragged prey toward her mandibles.
A third stood close, body rigid, serving as her guard.
There was one more, sitting apart, unmoving. Its body was intact, untouched by labor or battle.
What a freeloader, he muttered. As for the queen—she did resemble the others. She was of the same species, after all. But the proportions were wrong.
She was larger than any of them—larger even than him. Her head was small compared to her massive body, and her abdomen was elongated and swollen, resting heavily against the ground. On her thorax were a pair of blunt stubs—remnants of a time when she had wings.
The ant queen pressed her antennae against the nearest attendant.
The message passed instantly—from one to another—until her command spread through the chamber.
Attack the intruder.
They obeyed.
But—
Slash of the Assassin.
One fell.
Another tried to move, wounded, limping—
Slash of the Assassin.
They were already broken. Injured, exhausted, incomplete. They never stood a chance.
The skill pulsed faintly inside him, on the verge of ranking up. He could feel it.
Then the queen moved.
Slow. Deliberate.
Each step she took made the air feel heavier, denser, as if the chamber itself resisted his breathing. The hollowkin tightened his grip around the dagger's handle.
His heart pounded.
*Ba-dump*
*Ba-dump*
Closer.
Closer.
His anxiety spiked with every massive step—until she stopped.
What is she—
A green liquid spilled from her mandibles.
It sprayed across the walls. Across him.
AAAARGHHH!
Pain—different from anything before.
Burning.
Where the liquid touched, his fabric dissolved, eaten away, leaving smoking holes behind. Not all of it corroded—but enough.
If she hit him like that again… more than once…
He jumped forward.
Slash of the Assassin.
She dodged.
Again.
Slash of the Assassin.
Another miss.
Useless.
Worse—costly.
Every use drained him. Each activation made his limbs heavier, his breathing rougher. The skill was no longer efficient.
So he adapted.
He aimed lower—antennae, joints, anything that wasn't armored. Wherever the blade could bite.
It hurt her.
But it didn't kill her.
She stopped again.
Another stream of green fluid burst forth.
This time he dodged most of it—only a few droplets landed on him. They didn't burn like before, but the itch crawled beneath his skin.
Again he attacked. Legs. Joints. Exposed seams.
Still not enough.
She stopped.
Again.
—A pattern.
He waited.
The moment she spewed again, he moved—cleanly, perfectly. Not a single drop touched him.
Sparks flew as his blade scraped against her hardened exoskeleton. He struck again and again, desperate for a decisive hit.
She stopped.
He didn't.
He rushed forward and drove the dagger into her eye.
The queen convulsed. Her antennae twitched wildly, her massive body grinding against itself, sending violent vibrations through the chamber.
No one is coming for you now, Queen.
He was wrong.
The motionless ant—the one he had dismissed—lurched forward with stiff, mechanical movements. It slammed into him, knocking him to the ground.
He stared, stunned.
He forgot about him
He thought he was decorative. Useless.
The next instant, the queen clamped her mandibles shut.
Crushing the ant's abdomen.
Crushing his.
"You idiot," he thought wildly.
"She's sacrificing you—can't you see?"
There was no awareness left in the ant's eyes.
It was dying.
And it was killing him with it.
But he didn't give up.
This close—his skill couldn't miss.
With the last fragments of his sanity, he activated it.
*Slash of the Assassin*
Again.
*Slash of the Assassin*
Again.
Again.
Again
Until—at last—The hardened head separated from the body and fell.
He pushed the suicidal drone aside, still flabbergasted, and stared at the flood of notifications:
[You leveled up and gained a GENE POINT/GP ])
[Your skill Slash of the Assassin ranked up and became INTERMEDIATE ]
[Congratulations! You purged the Amblyopone colony ]
[You received the Parchment of the 5 Low-Level Monarchs ]
So many notifications hit him at once that he didn't know where to start. He took them one by one.
A smile slowly crept across his face, growing wider with each passing second. He was already thrilled about leveling up—but his skill ranking up? That was a cause for celebration.
Then his smile faded as he read the third notification. It confirmed that he had completed the task. A sigh of relief escaped his mouth.
[Parchment of the 5 Low-Level Monarchs ]
He willed it to appear, and it popped out of a small black void, landing neatly in his arms. He opened it with both hands, and inscribed upon it were the following: …