The heroes

The ground trembles beneath steel boots and exploding bark.

An army from Tanerag storms the outer edge of the fungal forest with their weapons drawn on the right hands, and torches in the other hands. Their armor glints beneath the mushrooms’ glowing canopy. They run with each step chopping down a stalk and burn a moss.

“Push forward!” a commander shouts. “Monsters ahead!”

The forest responds, it doesn’t welcome such destruction.

From all directions, insects pour out like the forest’s antidote: giant flies with insane agility and reaction speed, cicadas with enhanced sonic attack and human-sized crickets that can break armour by a single kick.

The army answers with shields, magic, and fire, slowly advancing. But the burden is clear: even trained soldiers and experienced magicians struggle to kill a single creature at a time.

Somewhere deeper in the chaos, Arthur pulls Asa down behind a broken root. Asa immediately notices their insignia - the one for elite squads from Tanerag.

One soldier sees them, then the whole army comes to them and bows. The commander asks why the hero party, initially planned to go to Kaelmoor, is now in Velkath.

“Heroes are the ones who take the wrong journey, but still end up in the right destination,” Arthur proudly says, pretending to be fine after all that has happened.

Asa just sighs while shaking her head gently. She is just glad that there are now more people to search for Spidaract.

That night, they rest on a cleared hill.

The mushrooms here are stunted, their glowing caps shriveled. The air is thinner, less sweet.

The Hero Party is given a tent of their own. Most commanders realize who Arthur and Asa are, which makes them a little worried about the things that can harm both of them. Nevertheless, giving a bit of respect to the heroes is legally required.

Asa leans back on a rolled-up coat, munching a lemon cookie with effort to show politeness; but for a princess who has never experienced hunger, being starved for a day is really neverseen. Arthur bites into his own and immediately recoils.

“This is…the worst thing I’ve ever eaten.”

“It’s bitter,” Asa shrugs. “But what would you ask for other than lemon pie?”

“It tastes like someone poured sugar into soap.”

She snorts and tosses him another. “Eat it anyway, we need energy to search for Spidaract tomorrow.”

“You seem to be worried a lot about him,” Arthur asks, still rebellious about the meal.

“I am surprised that you are not,” Asa says, crossing her hands together. “Isn’t he like…your best friend.”

Arthur shrugs. “We are not, he is a monster and I am the hero. If I hesitate to sacrifice him when the time comes, many will suffer.”

Asa’s face suddenly turns pale. “That’s quite…heartless, wouldn’t you say.”

“A human’s life and a monster’s life. An obvious choice is you ask me,” Arthur says with a straight face, but his voice feels a bit odd.

“Right…” Asa says awkwardly, hoping that they will not encounter such situations.

Morning comes with buzzing all around the area.

It starts faint, from a strange silence to a hum. Everyone feels a vibration beneath their feet. By the time the soldiers are fully armed, the hill is already surrounded.

A swarm of ants crawls up the slope, black shells gleaming like wet stone. Dozens, then hundreds of them just stand there, about to charge in like soulless beings.

At the back, watching in eerie silence, is one enormous ant, towering over the rest. Its mandibles curl like blades. Its antennae twitch with a rhythm that Arthur swears is almost…musical.

That has to be the queen.

The Tanerag army scrambles into formation, but it’s no use.

The ants hit like a wave.

They tear through the first rank, bite through armor, hurl bodies with brutal strength. Asa creates a wall out of air and a hole in the ground, forcing space between them and the swarm, but it’s not enough. She and Arthur are cut off from the rest of the army in seconds.

Arthur dives behind a broken tent pole and crawls to a half-crushed barrel.

They can’t win this with power alone.

But the queen is being here but not hiding underground, which means the army needs the queen here to be active, like robots that use the same control center.

He slips into the largest tent, where the food was made last night. Digging through torn crates, collapsed furniture and scattered supplies, He finds what he needs - a bucket of lemon juice.

Outside, Asa is holding the front alone, all the soldiers are now dead or heavily injured.

She changes the ground she is touching continuously, to create spikes and walls. However, her mana is running low and her stamina doesn’t let her stand up straight.

Then Arthur returns, dragging the bucket.

“Help me,” he pants. “I need cover.”

“What are you about to do?”

“A bet,” he says. “Just liquify the air in front of me. It will create fog to stop them from tracking me.”

Asa frowns, but believes in her captain. A shimmering curtain of wind and pressure appears, a blurred distortion that hides Arthur’s form like an illusion in the desert.

The ants rear back, confused.

Not long after, they charge through, but Arthur is gone, leaving traces of colored fog.

He crouches low, belly to the grass. His skin and the bucket are all darkened to match the soil. Insect eyes sweep past him without registering movement, even their incredible sense of smell can’t find a thing.

Arthur slides beneath roots, between stalks, slipping around the outer edge of the queen’s formation to get closer to its one commander.

The queen looms ahead, antennae twitching with agitation.

Arthur takes one breath, then leaps.

The bucket crashes into the queen’s face, lemon juice splashing across her mouth and antennae.

The queen screeches, her odor stops immediately. She writhes, thrashes, her mandibles slamming into the ground. The acid overloads her senses, breaks her connection to the swarm.

The army below falters.

Ants stumble, unable to move like their brains are all damaged.

Arthur raises his dagger, ready to end it.

THWIP!

A line of web hits his wrist, knocking the blade away.

Arthur turns around. Spidaract lands beside him, stares at him with a killer’s instinct.

“I was wondering when you’d show up,” Arthur mutters, panting.

Spidaract doesn’t answer. He walks straight to the queen, gently using his limbs to wipe the lemon juice out.

“It’s done,” Arthur says. “We can finish it ourselves.”

“No.”

That one word stops Arthur cold.

“No?” he repeats. “After all the lives lost in this battle!”

“You’ve destroyed many parts of the forest. The enarmon’s queen is just a self-defense mechanic,” Spidaract answers with a steady voice.

He draws another thread of web. “I’ll take care of her, and you bring those men back to Tanerag.”

Arthur steps forward to two monsters.

“Lives of humans for lives of beings in a nightmarish forest, a stupid suggestion,” he says with a skeptical tone as if interrogating a suspect. "Do you know how much people would be put in danger if simply that thing survive?"

Spidaract turns at him with a deadly glaze.

“Look at me, which side do you think I share more empathy with? Stay back, friend.”

Arthur picks up the dagger and charges at Spidaract. His eyes are wet as if he is about to cry.

“Make me, monster!”