1

The Battle of the Aryl River

I stood at the top of a hill with Sérignan at my side, overlooking our surroundings. Before us was a large river. I had already known it would be here, but seeing it filled me with anxiety.

In the game, rivers were considered nigh-impassable terrain. There was no direct way of crossing one under normal circumstances. Most factions, including the Arachnea, had very few units capable of swimming. Some aquatic factions could cross rivers, yes, and the Gregoria faction could produce Sea Serpents capable of swimming, but they were in the minority.

Whatever the case, though, the Swarm couldn’t swim across. The fastest way to the opposite side would be over a bridge, but the Swarms I had sent ahead on recon had reported that all the bridges in the area were tightly guarded.

I could try to muster an attack and push through, but our enemy was adapting to us and had employed a number of mages and ballistas. Mages in particular were a real nuisance.

The Arachnea didn’t have a unit that matched up well against spellcasters, so I couldn’t think of a good way to get past them. They were weak to melee combat, which meant the enemy would likely send loads of footmen our way to keep us from reaching them.

If I could just unlock more units, I could use Swarms capable of ranged attacks, but I had nothing of the sort at the moment. There was no point in bemoaning what I lacked, but the fact remained that having more ranged units would have made everything go smoother.

Without them, I’d have to push through a heavily defended bridge with sheer numbers. It was the strategy that required the least amount of thought, and it was also the least refined. Naturally, it would cause our side a great number of casualties, and I didn’t want to subject my cute little babies to that.

It was time to put on my thinking cap and come up with another tactic.

“Worker Swarm.”

“What is it, Your Majesty?” One of the Worker Swarms turned toward me and tilted its head.

“We need a way to cross the river. Can you make it happen?”

“With enough time, it can be done.”

“I’ll make sure you have plenty of time. I want you to prepare us a path to cross the river a little ways upstream from here. Understood?”

“By your will, Your Majesty.” Immediately, it began walking upstream with its fellow Worker Swarms in tow.

The more of them working together, the faster the construction process would go. For the time being, twenty Worker Swarms could handle the job.

“All remaining Worker Swarms, begin building siege weapons. I need four Bone Trebuchets.”

Siege weapons required gold to unlock, so I could only make the most basic ones. A Bone Trebuchet was, as its name implied, a contraption that launched the bones of the dead. It was capable of firing long distances but dealt little damage. However, it would be more than enough to harass the enemy.

“Ripper Swarms, begin your charge.”

Once the Bone Trebuchets were complete and had begun firing bones at the enemy, I ordered the Ripper Swarms to advance. They would flood the bridge and crash into the soldiers like a mighty tidal wave.

During the conquest of the loess mountain range, we’d caught the enemy off guard and managed to power our way through. But this time the enemy was cautious and well-prepared, and the river prevented me from using Digger Swarms. It was a difficult position, and thus I needed my Ripper Swarms to work extra hard. Even if it meant rushing to their deaths.

I had mourned the death of a single unit, and now I would be responsible for many, many more. This world must truly hate us... and me especially so. Otherwise, it wouldn’t have forced me to make such cold, pragmatic choices.

“Ballistas, fire!” cried out the enemy commander.

Thick bolts were fired in quick succession and ran through a number of Ripper Swarms. Their brethren merely stepped over their corpses, rushing to meet the enemy. Since they were all linked by the collective consciousness, they didn’t fear death. They strode forward, leaving a mountain of corpses behind them, like living, breathing meat grinders.

I couldn’t help but feel bad for the ones that’d fallen, but it was a necessary sacrifice.

“Prepare your spell attacks!”

Those despicable mages again. As they chanted their spells, fireballs rained down on the bridge, setting it aflame and burning the Ripper Swarms alive. But even so, their rush didn’t stop. My lovelies were earnest. Ripper Swarms would chase their foes to the depths of hell, not stopping until their fangs reached flesh. They were endlessly faithful and believed in me with all they had.

My precious, adorable insects.

The enemy had 50,000 men, while we numbered 150,000. If this battle lasted much longer, they would be the first to fall, but I didn’t want to win if it meant reducing my Swarms to lifeless husks. My current strategy was an absolutely brain-dead one, and I was far too concerned for my Swarms’ well-being.

As that thought crossed my mind, the sixth formation of Ripper Swarms reached the other side of the bridge. They swung their scythes, lopping off the heads of the heavy infantry, severing their limbs, and bisecting them at the torsos.

“Heavy infantry! Fight back!”

The enemy had about a thousand heavy infantry, and the rest were just pikemen. If the Ripper Swarms could just break through the heavies, the rest would be easy pickings.

“Rrngh!”

But the heavy infantry were tough nuts to crack. Maluk had apparently learned from its previous failures and had equipped their men with heavy weapons, like claymores and halberds, that were effective against the Swarms. The Ripper Swarms weren’t exactly losing, but whenever they missed, they had their fangs chipped off, their scythes broken, or their heads crushed in.

“Pesky humans,” I muttered to myself as I watched the battle unfold.

“Your Majesty, the enemy is trying to sink the bridge,” said Sérignan.

I’d already noticed that before she said it, though, thanks to the collective. The enemy was firing explosive spells and catapulting rocks at the stone bridge. They had drawn more than enough Swarms in, so they intended to topple the bridge and cut off our aisle of retreat, then finish them off. It was a simple, predictable maneuver. Apparently, they still thought we were nothing but a group of unintelligent monsters.

“Let them sink it, if they wish. The others have already finished.”

You see, our own bridge had just been completed.

Without anyone noticing, the Worker Swarms had built a bridge upstream. It was made from stones and bonded together with the Swarms’ sticky saliva. All Ripper Swarms not engaged in battle were already using that bridge to cross over to the other bank.

This way of building a bridge was actually possible even in the game.

“The enemy has landed on our side!”

“What the hell?! They made a bridge?!”

This reckless attack on their bridge was simply a diversion. I wanted to fool them into thinking we couldn’t produce a bridge of our own so they would focus their efforts on holding back this assault. I felt bad for the Ripper Swarms that had lost their lives in the endeavor, but it had all worked out.

When getting past an obstacle, you should always do so as far away from your enemy as possible. Inspired by that tried-and-true strategy, I took a gamble and ordered my Swarms to form a bridge over the Aryl River. Now, tens of thousands of Ripper Swarms had crossed the river untouched by the enemy and were closing in on them.

The Kingdom’s soldiers could only flinch in the face of our attack. It was all too apparent how panicked the enemy was, which was awfully amusing to watch. Now we just had to stomp them out.

But the real party was just getting started.

♱

“Lord Stroganoff, sir! The enemy has already crossed to our side of the river! Roughly seventy thousand enemy troops are marching on us! What do we do?!”

“Good God! They’re not just bloodthirsty monsters...? You’re telling me those things can strategize?! Well, I can assure you we won’t be outwitted by an army of dumb, ugly brutes!”

Duke Stefan Stroganoff, the man in charge of protecting the central bridge, was gradually losing his nerve. All around him, Ripper Swarms were ruthlessly attacking his men. Initially, he had thought they were just some heretofore unknown monsters, perhaps a species that had mutated, randomly attacking people in droves to feed. This mutation was responsible for the creatures’ insane strength, and they were only able to defeat the soldiers because of their numbers and this unnatural power.

However, that theory had been proven wrong. Their enemy was actively employing battle tactics right before his eyes. They were not mindless monsters, but creatures with intelligence matching that of mankind. The attack on the bridge was no doubt a diversion. His men had grown complacent while successfully dealing with the advance forces, but before they knew it, the enemy had built a bridge and launched a pincer attack from the other side. It was a blunder they could not recover from.

Had Stefan won this battle, he would have been a national hero and finally married the beautiful—albeit young—Princess Elizabeta. Marrying a member of the royal family meant more than earning the commoners’ blessings; he would have also obtained a social status above and beyond that of all other nobles. All his dreams and aspirations had crumpled under the weight of a single bridge built by giant insects. His brilliant future had been snatched away in their grotesque claws.

“We still have one more trick up our sleeve. Knights of Saint Julia, onward!” Stefan barked as he faced the incoming enemies.

An order of knights less than a thousand strong heeded his call, rising to meet a force of 70,000 Ripper Swarms.

“I’m counting on you!”

“We’ll handle this, Lord Stroganoff!” replied the captain of the knights. “Servant of the God of Light who resides in the heavens, I beseech you to descend before us, Angel Mayaliel!”

The holy order’s trump card was their angel. It was a different angel than Agaphiel, the one Sérignan had faced in the forest. This one was clad in armor and held a shining longsword. The only aspect the angels shared beyond their breed was the blinding light that emanated from their bodies.

“Children of man. Do you seek salvation?” Mayaliel asked.

“We do! We are fighting for our very survival! If we cannot rid ourselves of these vile monsters, the Kingdom of Maluk will fall! Hundreds upon thousands of citizens will be massacred! Please, lend us your aid!”

“Very well. I will assist you. These beings certainly are vile beyond compare. By my duty as an angel, I will strike them down!”

With that said, Mayaliel flew up and then dove toward the rows of the Ripper Swarms. Swinging her blade, she cut through hundreds of Ripper Swarms in one fell swoop. The Ripper Swarms, capable of shrugging off most attacks, were dropping like flies.

The same thing had happened last time, when the Swarm fought Agaphiel. They couldn’t hope to match her. Mayaliel’s sword was as powerful as Agaphiel’s rays of light. It cut through the Ripper Swarms’ sturdy exoskeletons like a knife slicing through hot butter, eliminating them by the dozens every second.

The Ripper Swarms lunged at Mayaliel like wild animals, but their fangs and scythes had no effect. Angels were special beings either protected by some mysterious power or simply gifted with bottomless stamina. They were the worst possible match for the Arachnea.

Additionally, angels were immune to almost all types of attacks, making them very tricky opponents. The only record of an angel’s defeat was during an attempted invasion by the Empire of Nyrnal, and exactly how they did it was still unclear.

“Is that all you foul beasts can manage?! Then you shall perish here!”

But just as Mayaliel prepared to sweep away the next group of Swarms...

“Haaah!”

Someone soared out from the Ripper Swarms’ flank and attacked her. Their motions were far too fast and fluid to belong to any of the Ripper Swarms. It was only natural, of course, because the one coming at Mayaliel was none other than Sérignan.

“Another gnat appears!” Sérignan spat as she brought her sword down on Mayaliel, who was completely caught off guard. “By the will of our queen, you will become rust upon my blade!”

“That’s a corrupted holy sword! You damnable creature... Are you a fallen paladin?!”

“My background is of no importance! I am but Her Majesty’s blade and shield!” Sérignan did not falter, launching another attack at the angel.

“So be it! I will strike you down with all my might!”

Mayaliel spread her wings and soared into the air, then plunged toward Sérignan with her longsword at the ready.

“Ngh!”

Mayaliel’s powerful dive-bombing attack knocked Sérignan to the ground.

“I will not fall! I am Her Majesty’s knight! No matter what may come!”

Sérignan rose to her feet and jumped again, swinging at Mayaliel.

“Your efforts are wasted, vile one!” Mayaliel evaded the slash and smoothly moved in for a counterattack.

Her knee sank into Sérignan’s stomach. Sérignan fell, moaning in pain, and barely managed to land on her feet. Her role as the queen’s knight was the core of her fighting spirit; this was what made Sérignan an individual and set her apart from the rest of the collective.

“I can still fight! I am Her Majesty’s knight, and nothing you do will change that!”

Sérignan quickly fixed her stance and shifted to the next attack. Except this time, she wasn’t simply trying to swing her sword at the angel.

“Rngh! Threads?!”

Sérignan shot adhesive threads from her tail, coiling them around Mayaliel and her longsword and yanking her forward. Unable to maintain her posture, Mayaliel fell toward Sérignan. At the same time, Sérignan began her charge. This tactic turned the tide of the battle in an instant.

“Take this!”

Sérignan’s corrupted sword cut into Mayaliel’s body, and a scream erupted from the angel’s mouth.

“And this!”

As if relishing the torture, Sérignan marred her opponent with blow after blow, slashing Mayaliel’s shoulders, stabbing her stomach, and lacerating her legs.

“There’s far more where that came from! You will suffer until death claims you, you miserable gnat!”

“Cease, you coward! Stop this at once!”

The threads completely restricted Mayaliel’s movements, and the sword was repeatedly sinking into her flesh. The angel couldn’t budge in the face of Sérignan’s overwhelming loyalty and the strength it granted her. Mayaliel could only curse as she received the knight’s sadistic abuse.

“Damn you... Damn you! Do not think this is enough to fell an angel!”

At that moment, Mayaliel forcibly tore off the threads and lunged at Sérignan.

“Taste my blade, vile one!”

“No, you shall perish!”

Sérignan and Mayaliel clashed, each holding a blade in hand.

“Hack!”

Mayaliel’s neck was cut clean through; without a doubt, it was a fatal wound. The angel did not bleed from the cut, but instead burst into particles of light—much like Agaphiel had before her—and disappeared from this world.

“The sublime Mayaliel was defeated?! It can’t be!”

“Impossible! An angel can’t be slain!”

Upon seeing Mayaliel vanish, the Maluk soldiers reached new heights of terror. Their angels were supposed to be all-powerful, incontestable holy beings who reigned over all. The soldiers simply hadn’t believed Mayaliel could be defeated in battle.

But they had forgotten that the Knights of Saint Augustine, who could also summon an angel, had already been conquered with ease. Obviously, they had no way of knowing the true power the Bloody Knight Swarm Sérignan possessed. After all, how could the Kingdom’s men have imagined that this one creature had the latent ability to even bring down a god?

“Foolish humans! You will all kneel before our queen!” Sérignan proclaimed with a wave of her sword.

“It’s all over! We’re done for!”

“Don’t run, you idiot! We fight to the last man standing!”

Their chain of command was already in shambles. Soldiers were attempting to desert their posts left and right, and the non-commissioned officers cut each one of them down for their treason. For the soldiers, this battlefield was one where both friends and foes could come for their lives.

“Erm, you there! You can speak our language, right?” Stefan said, addressing Sérignan. “Can we not negotiate? Depending on your conditions, we could surrender to your army.”

He was probing to see if it was possible for them to surrender. It was a preferable fate to slaughter, and it would allow him and his soldiers to survive another day.

Yes, Stefan wanted to live. He wanted to make it out of this atrocious battle, marry the beautiful Elizabeta, and get to know her down to her deepest depths.

“Nonsense,” Sérignan scoffed at him. “We are the Arachnea, the Swarm that will cover the world. Your people have harmed our queen’s friends, killed our comrades, and planned to kill many more of our kind. And yet now you speak of surrender?”

She pointed her blade at Stefan.

“Pick up your sword. If you call yourself a warrior, fight to the bitter end. We will crush your efforts, leaving only despair.”

“Urgh! No choice, then! Men, ready your weapons and get back in there! Mages, fire your spells at full power! Heavy infantry and pikemen, form a circle around the mages!”

The soldiers did as he said, and soon a thick cluster of fireballs rained down upon the Arachnea, setting a great number of Ripper Swarms on fire.

“Keep moving! In Her Majesty’s name!” cried Sérignan.

“In Her Majesty’s name!” echoed the Swarm.

Sérignan and the Ripper Swarms rushed through the great showers of fire, closing in on Stefan’s army. The Ripper Swarms, which were the fastest units in the game, made contact with the military’s formation within moments. The heavy infantry’s heads were sliced off with their scythes and the pikemen were quickly punctured through the chest with their fangs. Soon the Swarms had eaten entirely through the enemy’s living wall.

It was a massacre.

With their protectors gone, the mages were torn to pieces. Afterward, the Swarm turned course and reduced the few remaining soldiers to mincemeat.

“It’s over.”

By the time Sérignan made that proclamation, every single soldier had been eliminated. Their commander, the one called Stefan, was dead. His eviscerated body was mixed with the ravaged remains of the other soldiers, shredded beyond recognition. His limbs had been plucked off as though he were a child’s toy, and his face had caved in from taking a scythe to the head.

“Good job, Sérignan.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty. Now we can all cross the river.”

By the time everything was over, the Arachnea’s queen, who had been commanding the battle from afar through the collective consciousness, arrived to thank her troops.

“You’ve all done well. This was a difficult battle, but we have emerged victorious. Nothing stands in our way any longer. Next, we’ll regroup with the units from the north and south and march on Siglia. That will spell the end of this country.”

“Glory to our queen!”

“Glory to our queen!”

All the Swarms present bent down and genuflected at once. Their unified posture made it ever more apparent that they had indeed won.

“Still, Sérignan, you have this habit of talking too much. You’ll end up biting your tongue if you chatter too much during battle. Just focus on killing the mooks in front of you.”

“My apologies, Your Majesty.”

And so the battle of the Aryl River ended in victory for the Arachnea. The Kingdom of Maluk was now in a very precarious position. It had lost all its natural defenses, and its remaining defensive lines had been forced to retreat to the capital.

Fall of the Kingdom

The Arachnea crossed the Aryl River to the north and south using the same method, leaving the Kingdom of Maluk without any more major defenses. There were still a few fortresses between us and the capital, but they wouldn’t last long. Each of the fortresses was isolated, making some sort of protective circle around Siglia.

“Another one down,” I said as we felled yet another fortress.

The air was thick with the scent of blood. My Ripper Swarms carried off all the corpses, which would soon be made into meatballs and then stored or placed in Fertilization Furnaces.

Watching the soldiers’ remains—clothes, armor, and all—be reduced to mincemeat should have disgusted me or frightened me out of my wits. The stench of death and the smacking sounds of viscous fluid mushing together would be enough to make anyone vomit.

But there I was, watching it all happen while nibbling down on a sandwich.

I’d made them using ingredients the soldiers left behind in the fortress. The fillings were ham and cheese. Lately, all I could get my hands on was dry jerky and hard bread, so getting to eat soft, warm sandwiches full of cheese was quite the treat. I savored each bite as I watched the Worker Swarms make their meatballs.

“Hey, Sérignan.”

“Yes? What is it?”

Sérignan, who was standing at my side, snapped to attention.

“Want a sandwich?”

“No. I could not hope to eat of Your Majesty’s food,” she said, sneaking a glance at my meal.

So knights like toasted sandwiches, too. What a cute little tidbit of lore.

“You can have one. I made too many.”

“You honor me, Your Majesty!”

Sérignan lunged at the sandwiches like a puppy that’d been thrown a bone, chowing down on them with gusto.

The Swarm, Sérignan included, didn’t particularly need to eat. There was no maintenance cost for units, no matter how many were made. No matter how delicious I made these sandwiches look, Sérignan wouldn’t need to eat them.

But I suppose even the Swarm wanted to eat for the sake of pleasure sometimes. Thanks to the collective consciousness, they were able to taste the sandwiches vicariously through Sérignan and myself. That said, Swarms were born from jerky and raw meat and ate human flesh... it was dubious whether they found a toasted sandwich tasty at all.

“Do not worry, Your Majesty. We are honored to experience the same flavors you do,” piped a Ripper Swarm.

Apparently, even my flicker of doubt had spread through the collective.

“All right. That’s good, then.”

For the time being, they raised no objection to any of my actions. They did as I ordered, accepting my reasons without argument. There was no conflict in the collective consciousness, that much was clear.

Was I becoming more Swarm-like, or was the Swarm being influenced by me? I couldn’t quite tell.

But for now, we had a war to win.

“The northern and southern units are in position.”

As I ate my sandwich, I confirmed that the other units were ready to attack Siglia through the collective. The Kingdom’s resistance on the other fronts had been poor, and all the civilians had been killed. Every living person in both the rural and urban areas had been slaughtered and made into meatballs, leaving their towns bloodied and empty.

I was still fighting this war as though it were part of a game. The game dictated that so long as the enemy had units remaining, I couldn’t claim victory. I stuck to those rules, and exterminated everyone in the Kingdom of Maluk. The Swarm trampled villages, towns, and fortresses alike, savagely and without warning. No one was allowed to live.

The people of this world couldn’t hope to match the Ripper Swarms’ speed. By the time any villagers, townspeople, or soldiers noticed the Swarms approaching, they were already done for. Scythes and fangs were fast upon them, ready to reap them like the crops they were.

My Swarms took no prisoners. They attacked in waves, conquering every settlement and structure in their path. The young, the elderly, the injured, and the sick—all of them were reduced to lumps to be placed in our furnaces and stores.

Even I had to question my capacity for such cold, hard choices. We were killing human beings, after all. My comrades in this world were the Swarm, but biologically speaking, I was human. Yet I spurned the idea of living among mankind, instead siding with the Swarm to slaughter my fellow man.

Was this the right thing to do? Probably.

I had sworn to the Swarm that I would bring about the victory they craved, and I intended to keep that promise. Even if it meant turning against my own species. I killed plenty of humans in the game; this is basically the same thing. Yeah. It just feels a little more realistic, that’s all.

“Are you anxious, Your Majesty?” Sérignan asked.

Evidently, she had sensed my inner conflict.

“No, I’m not anxious, Sérignan. I just hate them. I hate the Kingdom of Maluk for sending the knights that killed Linnet. More than that, I hate them for standing in the way of your victory.”

I stuffed the last piece of the toasted sandwich into my mouth and got up.

“C’mon, Sérignan. Let’s go. We’re one step away from triumph. After this is done, we can figure out what to do next. If any other country messes with us, we’ll just eradicate them too.”

We toppled the four remaining fortresses, leaving no survivors. Soon enough, we were standing before Siglia.

I set up a new FOB just outside the capital and used the gold we had obtained through pillaging to unlock new siege weapons. I aimed my new Carrion Cannons—the upgraded version of Bone Trebuchets—in Siglia’s direction.

The Carrion Cannon launched decayed flesh. It poisoned any units within the impact zone, and caused nearby structures and facilities to decay. Although its firepower was low, those secondary effects were nasty. It was one of my favorite weapons. As for the design, it looked rather like an insect and was adorned with decaying flesh. Like most Arachnea constructions, the thing was pretty grotesque.

Once the Worker Swarms had finished setting up twelve Carrion Cannons, it was time to begin our assault. It was clear that Siglia’s citizens weren’t ready to evacuate. If anything, refugees were probably rushing into the capital, assuming they would be safe within its walls.

As I observed the city before us, I thought to myself:

Looks like we’ll have plenty of meat in the near future.

♱

“The end times are upon us! These walls will be broken by the distorted legion! Great ruin will befall the world! Praying to the God of Light is pointless, for even He cannot stand in the way of the deformed hellbringers!”

Standing in Siglia’s central square, a middle-aged clergyman was performing an ardent speech. He was one of the scant few who had miraculously escaped a Ripper Swarm rush, so he knew the true terror of the Arachnea. He had decided that their appearance was a sign of the end times.

The Arachnea’s invasion had been so intense that it had sapped a clergyman of his own faith.

“Quiet, you old codger! You don’t have permission to hold assembly here! Go away!”

Cavaliers arrived to put a stop to the man’s ravings and break up the crowd that had formed around him.

“Hey! We’re only getting invaded because you soldiers are too weak to push them back! If you’re gonna complain, do it after you kill those monsters!”

The commoners threw trash and hurled insults at the soldiers.

“How terrifying... What will become of us?” whispered a young mother in her twenties.

Her name was Ludmila. She was in the middle of a shopping trip with her five- and seven-year-old sons. Seeing the soldiers clash with the townsfolk, she was overcome with fear. Siglia’s usual peaceful atmosphere had been tainted with anxiety and terror.

“Mommy, they say monsters are coming.”

“Are they going to eat us?”

Her children looked up at their mother as she ushered them away from the argument in the square.

“You’ll be fine. The city has big walls, right? They won’t break through them that easily. The monsters will just have to give up and go somewhere else.”

“Then we’re safe!”

“Yeah! I’m not scared of the monsters!”

With that said, Ludmila took her children back home.

♱

Meanwhile, the palace was filled with an oppressive atmosphere. The Arachnea’s invasion simply couldn’t be stopped. They had conquered the loess mountains, crossed over the Aryl River, and toppled multiple fortresses leading up to the capital. Soon enough, Siglia had only walls left to protect it.

“What are we to do?”

King Ivan II was once again in a difficult council with Prime Minister Slava and Omari, the Minister of Defense.

“We’ve no choice but to resist their siege,” Omari said, his expression severe. “Our granaries have two years’ worth of provisions. We can use those to endure the assault and wait for the enemy to leave.”

“Do we even know when their attack will end?” said Slava. “The enemy might surround Siglia for as long as it takes. This isn’t a human army, but a force of monsters. We can’t assume they’ll retreat for economic reasons. They might hound us like wild animals, waiting for an opening.”

“Can’t we ask our neighboring countries for assistance? The Frantz Popedom or the Schtraut Dukedom might come to our aid,” said the king.

“We’ve already requested their help, but it will take the Frantz Popedom’s reinforcements four months to organize and even longer to reach us. It’s unlikely they’ll make it in time.”

The Frantz Popedom had answered the Kingdom of Maluk’s call to arms, but it would take them months to prepare their army, and a few more months to reach the Kingdom’s capital. It was a despairing turn of events overall.

“Awful... This is just absolutely awful!” King Ivan II bellowed.

“There is only one more order of knights capable of summoning an angel, and they’re the last major asset we have. But one question still stands: where do we engage the enemy? They could invade us from whichever side they’d like.”

The king understood that his capital was completely surrounded by insects and that they could strike from any direction.

“Then... should we use the Jewel? With its power, we might be able to turn the situation in our favor.”

“The Jewel? You do know what became of Maluk’s first king when he used it,” the king growled, glaring at Omari.

“Yes, milord, I am aware... But our current situation is dire. We’ve no choice but to use it. If using the Jewel will save hundreds of thousands of lives, then the sacrifice is worth it.”

“Mmm... That is true, but is it really impossible to push them back with our army? Will the walls not hold until the Popedom’s reinforcements arrive?”

“If you’ll excuse me, I don’t think it’s possible. Those monsters have broken through every obstacle on their way here. I doubt walls will be able to stop them.”

“I see. Then when the walls fall, I will unleash the Jewel’s power. I can only pray it will save our people,” the king said resolutely.

“We respect your decision, milord,” said Omari. He and Slava tilted their heads in reverence.

“Then let me know if the situation changes. I will be at the treasure vault.” With that, King Ivan II stood up and left the war council.

The other men continued to expand upon their strategy even after the king left. Some generals joined in, trying to find ways to keep Siglia’s walls intact. They discussed the distribution of rations and whether there were any aisles of escape in the worst-case scenario.

Despite their diligence in planning, the men were well aware that both holding back the siege and trying to escape were reckless choices. Right now, Maluk had no support from its neighbors, and its own army had been greatly diminished.

“I can’t believe we’ve resorted to using the Jewel.”

His expression dark, King Ivan II walked down the path to the treasure vault.

“Father? What is the matter?”

“Oh, hello, dear. I was merely wondering what I should do for the sake of our Kingdom.”

“You always consider the Kingdom’s well-being first and foremost, Father. It’s really admirable,” said Elizabeta, looking at her father with respect in her eyes.

“Elizabeta, this... this may be the last time we speak. I’ll soon be setting out to battle.”

“No! Lord Stefan has fallen in battle, and now I must lose you, too? Whatever duty you have, surely someone else can take your place! You are the king of this country, Father! You cannot put yourself in danger!”

News that Stefan, Elizabeta’s betrothed, had died in the battle at the Aryl River had already reached the castle. Upon hearing it, Elizabeta was stricken with grief, and thereafter she struggled to remain optimistic, desperately clinging to life. But now her own father was going to war. The risk of his dying was high, and she despaired at the thought.

“It is precisely because I am king that I must do this. But even if I pass on, you must stay strong, Elizabeta. The Princess of Maluk must live on with pride and dignity. I’m sure that once I am gone, you will lead this Kingdom to prosperity.”

“Father...” Elizabeta wiped her tears. “Yes, I understand. I am the second princess of the great Kingdom of Maluk. No matter how difficult it may be, I will rebuild this Kingdom once you rid us of these horrible monsters. But you must hold your life dear to you as well, Father.”

“Yes, I will.”

King Ivan II omitted the fact that care and caution would do little to change things now. There was no need to tell her that.

“Go hide somewhere safe, love. The cellar should do. Hide there and wait for the monsters to leave.”

“Yes, Father.” Elizabeta nodded and ran off.

“Pardon my interruption, Your Majesty,” said one of the royal guards. “But is it true that the elves summoned those monsters? I’ve heard tell that the elves offered up sacrifices to bring them here from some other world. People say the elves control them.”

“Those are foolish, baseless rumors,” Ivan II snapped. “The elves have no such power. If they did, they’d have used it much sooner. It’s impossible for those dingy, long-eared heretics to control such monsters to begin with. More importantly, keep Elizabeta safe.”

“Yes, Your Majesty. I will protect her with my life!”

That said, where did those monsters come from? the king thought. There’s no doubt they appeared in the elven forest, but could they really hide such numbers among its trees and brush? Perhaps those monsters really are a product of the elves’ black magic. The Church of Holy Light doesn’t deny the existence of devils, but unlike our angels, those creatures seem far more sinister and strange.

“The elves must be the source of this catastrophe. If it weren’t for them, none of this would have happened. Those despicable barbarians...”

If the elves hadn’t existed in the forest, the king would never have had to send forces there in the first place. The Knights of Saint Augustine would not have been defeated. Monsters wouldn’t have flooded out from the forest, like wasps from a rattled nest.

In the king’s eyes, it was all the elves’ fault. They refused to acknowledge the God of Light, and turned toward their woodland gods, offering them sacrifices and who knew what else. They were the source of all these troubles. He believed it through and through.

While the king brooded over his nation’s woes, clergymen were praying to the God of Light outside the castle, imploring Him to banish their unexpected invaders. They prayed that their walls would be stalwart as steel and ward the monsters away.

Some of the clergymen claimed that this was judgment sent down by the God of Light, punishment for the greedy and lustful lives the people were leading. It was not too late to burn one’s belongings, they said, and live a modest life subsisting on bread and water. They walked as though they’d been struck by madness, naked from the waist up, exposing their bodies to cold air as they preached honorable poverty.

But whatever they did, their prayers and faith were meaningless. Outside Siglia’s walls, 100,000 Ripper Swarms were preparing to attack, readying the Carrion Cannons that would bring down the ramparts. With a single order, the queen of the Arachnea could wipe Siglia off the face of the map.

And still, the people prayed. For their own well-being. For their families’ safety. For their friends’ survival. For their country to overcome this. For mankind to remain after this catastrophe swept through.

Those who clung to faith rushed to the cathedral, asking the archbishop to prepare a place for them to pray. Nine prayer circles had already been done that day, but people begged to pray more. They chanted their prayers at the top of their lungs, hoping they would reach the heavens. It was so loud that their voices echoed outside the city.

“They’re praying.”

The queen of the Arachnea was sitting on a vantage point overlooking Siglia from afar.

“A meaningless gesture. No amount of prayer will change what’s to come,” said Sérignan.

“True. If praying could fix things, they wouldn’t need the army. But prayer won’t make the situation any better. They’re just indulging in self-satisfaction. They can chant their mantras until their throats dry out, but no one will come to save them.”

The queen rose to her feet.

“Sérignan, it’s time to attack. Take the city of Siglia down.”

“By your will, Your Majesty.”

At precisely five o’clock in the morning, the Arachnea began their march on Siglia.

♱

Our Carrion Cannons heralded the beginning of the battle. They fired projectiles made of rotten flesh, which impacted the walls one after another.

“Ugh, agh... What is this substance?”

“Aah! It’s poison gas!”

To recap, the Carrion Cannons’ secondary effects included poisoning surrounding enemies and causing continual damage to nearby structures. The walls were made brittle and gradually began to collapse. As projectiles continued to land, the soldiers on the ramparts succumbed to the poison, while the walls themselves flaked off and crumbled.

“Man the walls! We need to protect them! The enemy is coming!”

“Why aren’t there ballistas on any of the walls?! They’re the only thing we have that stops those bugs!”

Their minds scrambled by poison, the Kingdom’s men barked out mismatched orders. The soldiers moved to protect the walls, but the Carrion Cannons kept them at bay. Gradually, the soldiers became wracked by fits of coughing and vomited blood, and they dropped to the ground one by one.

“The Carrion Cannon is very user-friendly,” I mused, coolly watching the chaos. “It takes it a while to actually topple the walls, but it whittles down the enemy forces in the meantime. Thanks to that, we’ll have a much easier time once we break through the walls and get inside.”

Everything was going according to plan. The Carrion Cannons were cutting down the enemy’s numbers, and the walls were gradually falling apart. There were even extra Bone Trebuchets firing as well, which helped chip down the walls a bit faster.

“The walls should collapse within one minute. First formation, prepare to attack. Second and third formations, get ready to charge in after the first. Place emphasis on the eastern wall. While you focus most of the attack on the east, send a few troops to other areas to create diversions. Sérignan, you come with me to the eastern side.”

“Your Majesty, it’s far too dangerous! Siege warfare can be chaotic and fierce!”

Thanks to my years of experience, I could tell when a building was about to collapse even without glancing at its life bar. This was assuming structures in this world behaved like they did in the game, of course. Still, looking at how badly damaged the walls were gave me a general idea of when they would collapse. Sérignan, however, was attempting to stop me from going to the battlefield.

“I’m going, Sérignan. This is my war, and I’ll see it through even if I’m useless in battle.”

Yes, I need to see it all. The Kingdom of Maluk is dying, and I must watch every moment until the last.

“Very well. I will protect you with all my might, Your Majesty,” Sérignan said, bringing her fist to her chest in a show of enthusiasm.

“Thank you, Sérignan. You’re such a dependable knight. Now, let’s get moving.”

A minute later, the eastern, southern, and northern walls collapsed all at once. Waves of Ripper Swarms rushed in, while Digger Swarms burst out of the ground and swallowed people alive. Chaos exploded around the broken walls.

“Help! Help meee!”

Any unfortunate soldiers who remained near the walls were devoured by the Swarms. The insects tore everything they laid eyes on to pieces, leaving only corpses in their wake.

It was thorough violation and massacre.

The Swarm spread out across the main street and flooded into the alleyways. They ate the soldiers hiding between the buildings and shredded civilians taking cover in their houses. The Swarms’ keen senses picked up on people hiding in their cellars, who were quickly torn apart by their fangs and scythes. They had nowhere to run.

No mercy. No forgiveness. No pity.

“Mommy, are the monsters here?”

“We’ll be safe so long as we’re here, so shush. Stay quiet, okay?”

Ludmila and her sons were hiding in a cellar. As they whispered to one another, the eerie scuttling of Ripper Swarms crawling above and around them reached their ears. Her children shivered in fright.

The boys’ father had set out as part of the Eastern Garrison and never come back. Ludmila embraced them, and they all held their breaths. The Swarms continued stepping above them, and the sound made their pulses quicken.

“Please... Just go away...”

Ludmila prayed to the God of Light, to her grandparents’ spirits, to everyone and anyone who might heed her call.

But reality was indifferent to her plight.

In a violent twist of irony, the Ripper Swarms tore down the door, ripping through it with their scythes, and discovered Ludmila and her children.

“Aaaaahhh!”

“Mommy...! MOMMY!”

Ludmila and her children were torn apart, their guts splattering all over the cellar. Only once their limbs had been hacked off and their skulls caved in did their bodies fall to the floor. Ludmila, much like her husband, had become food for the Swarm.

Ripper Swarms could pick up all the scents in a house, even the ones in the cellar and attic. No one could escape their clutches. No matter where one might hide, the Swarm would find them, ready to deliver impartial, absolute death.

“Gotta admit, that’s pretty terrible,” I said quietly, standing outside the house.

“The humans deserve no mercy, Your Majesty. Especially not our enemies.”

“Agreed. Mercy wouldn’t help anyone here. We only believe in violence. Lovely, isn’t it? Come on, let’s keep moving. This wouldn’t have ended any other way.” I left Ludmila’s house behind and began walking down the eastern road.

Perhaps I’ll take down their castle and try on the crown? Now that’s a thought.

♱

Sérignan and I moved further into the city, surrounded by an ocean of Ripper Swarms. Despite how densely packed we all were, none of the Ripper Swarms bumped into me. They cautiously avoided getting in my way as they walked. I knew they could knock me away quite easily if they weren’t careful, so I appreciated their consideration.

“The enemy’s defensive forces are divided between the north and the south. I say we push through the center so we can flank both of them. If we do that, the enemy will be routed in no time. Then we’ll just need to force our way into the castle, where we’ll kill the king and any other key figures inside.”

And then, the Kingdom of Maluk will be completely wiped off the face of this world.

“Stop, in the name of the God of Light!”

Just as I was imagining the aftermath, we ran into a group of enemy troops. I’d thought we’d mopped most of them up during the initial attack, but apparently some of them had been positioned away from the walls.

“You will not stop us here. We’ll keep marching until every last one of you is dead.”

“Aren’t you human too?!”

Upon seeing me amid the great cluster of Swarms, the apparent leader of the group eyed me suspiciously. He must have been wondering why a human girl was working alongside these enemies of mankind.

“Human? Not me. I’m just a monster, complete with a monstrous heart... I cast my humanity aside long ago. You could even say I’m mankind’s worst enemy. I’m the one you have to defeat if you want to win; our invasion won’t stop until you do.

“No... Even if you do kill me, our conquest will continue. Our bodies will endlessly quake with the hunger to devour your world. Board your ships and try to sail away if you like; we’ll still hunt you down and finish you off to the last man.”

That’s right; I was no longer human. I was Queen of the Arachnea, the scourge who plagued mankind. My consciousness had been dragged down into the crawling depths of the Swarm collective, and the last light of my humanity was beginning to flicker out.

Curiously, the reverse was also happening. The Swarm’s consciousness was being blended with my own, so now they were thinking about more than just invading and multiplying. Had this not been the case, they would have indiscriminately attacked the elves I so pitied.

“I see. So you’re the ringleader. Then all we have to do is take you down! Servant of the God of Light who resides in the heavens, I beseech you to descend before us, Haristel the Great!”

As the commander finished his chant, light spilled from the sky, and out from the beams sprung a massive hound. It was three to four times the size of a Ripper Swarm, and it was certainly big enough to swallow me whole.

“Children of man. Has crisis befallen you?” The massive hound’s voice was solemn and even.

“Yes, Haristel. These evil beasts have come to destroy our Kingdom. Please, lend us your strength!” implored the man, who was captain of the Knights of Saint Erzsébet.

“So whenever problems pop up, you just fall back to your angels, huh? You really are one-trick ponies.”

“Keep talking, fool. You barbarians who reject the God of Light deserve nothing more than to be struck down by our angel! Begone, vile ones!”

“Well, geez. Calling us barbarous blasphemers really isn’t necessary, now is it? I mean, you don’t need to go fumbling around for reasons; we’re barbarians through and through. Bona fide savages, the kind who go ’round killing and pillaging and all that. Whether we worship your god or not isn’t relevant. What matters is that our instincts spur us to rob, kill, and multiply.”

I didn’t know anything about this God of Light, but I probably wouldn’t want to worship him anyway.

“Prepare yourselves, infidels. Your derision of the divine is a grave sin.”

“Oh, we’ll be as derisive as we want. Not that I know enough about this God of Light to speak of him. But it looks to me like you’re worshipping someone who gets off on punishing the weak and calling it justice. Pathetic.”

“The penance for your sin is death, foul one.”

“Do it, Sérignan,” I said as Haristel prepared to pounce.

“Leave everything to me, Your Majesty.”

Sérignan stepped forward. With her corrupted holy sword in hand, she stood poised before Haristel.

“Steel yourself!”

“Haaah!”

As Haristel leapt at her, Sérignan fired a strand from her tail and used it to propel herself above the rooftops. Haristel scaled a building in hot pursuit, hopping up to the roof at once by driving its fangs into the wall.

“Flee not, vile monster!”

“Keep barking, mutt. I merely moved to avoid involving Her Majesty in this battle.” Sérignan smirked. “Are your claws merely there for decoration? If not, prove it. In turn, I will prove my worth by killing you!”

Sérignan turned her sword in Haristel’s direction.

“Fool! A mere insect cannot hope to triumph over an angel!”

“Oh? But I’ve already slain two of you!”

Haristel rushed forward, and Sérignan ran to meet it. The hound’s fangs intersected with the knight’s pitch-black blade.

“Ngh!” Sérignan flinched as Haristel’s fangs opened a gash in her right cheek. “This is nowhere near enough to stop me!”

Sérignan then stabbed her sword into Haristel’s flank.

“Damn you! That’s a corrupted holy sword!”

It was only then that Haristel realized it was up against the blade of a paladin who had fallen from grace—a corrupted holy sword, optimal for slaying the sacred.

Took you long enough, I thought dryly.

“Prepare yourself, mutt, for I will sever that head of yours!”

“Do not look down upon me, insect!”

The fight between Sérignan and Haristel was heating up.

“Ungh! Of course a stupid animal would have such... weighted blows!”

“Is this the extent of your power, insect?!”

Haristel assaulted Sérignan with its fangs and claws with startling speed, so the knight could only respond with desperate blocks. The hound’s attacks were both heavy and swift, so Sérignan was gradually being pushed back.

“Aim for the eyes, Sérignan!” I called from below. “Take out its sight and smell, and you can handle the rest from there.”

“Understood, Your Majesty!”

Sérignan parried the next attack and aimed for Haristel’s face as I had instructed. She went for the eyes and nose over and over again in a persistent flurry of swings. Watching her, I felt she was even more animalistic than the hound she was fighting against.

“I’m counting on you. You’re the only one I can trust to see this through,” I urged her.

“Yes, Your Majesty! Leave everything to me!”

I flooded the collective consciousness with the sheer faith I had in her abilities... and the fight started to tip in Sérignan’s favor. My knight regained her footing as if she were reaping the benefits of some sort of spell.

“Haaaaah!”

“Guh! Curse you!”

Haristel probably didn’t understand what was happening. Why was Sérignan, who had been standing on the verge of defeat just a moment ago, suddenly gaining the advantage? Why was she filled with fighting spirit, able to counter its blows with renewed vigor? What drove her to fight this desperately?

The answer was simple: Sérignan was a knight, my sword and shield. So long as I trusted her, she would always answer my conviction in kind. This relationship was something Haristel simply couldn’t fathom.

Deflecting every attack sent her way, Sérignan switched to the offensive. She slipped between its swipes and snaps and slashed powerfully at the holy beast.

“GaAAaAah!”

The corrupted sword pierced Haristel’s right eye. It staggered, then retreated to another rooftop in pain.

“Curse you, curse you, a thousand curses upon you! How dare you!” Haristel howled as it bled, its remaining eye glaring at Sérignan more ferociously than before.

“Sérignan, be careful when finishing off an injured animal. They cling to life the hardest when they teeter on death’s door.”

“Yes, Your Majesty!”

Sérignan deserved praise for getting this far, but she couldn’t afford to be careless. Animals had powerful survival instincts, and they were purportedly most dangerous when cornered.

Of course, that might not have been the case for an angel. But for beasts, the primal drive to live flooded their bodies with adrenaline, quickened their beating hearts, and pushed them to cling to life with all their might. No matter what it took, they had to live, even if it meant lashing out with fangs or claws or any other means of stopping their untimely demise. This beast masquerading as an angel was likely the same.

“The wicked deserve no mercy! I shall tear you limb from limb!”

Indeed, Haristel’s movements were much faster now that it was in peril. Would Sérignan be able to defeat it?

“The only one who will be torn apart here is you, mutt!”

Yes, she could. And she did.

“Aaaagh...”

Sérignan slipped past Haristel’s blind spot—its crushed right eye—and swung her sword at the beast’s thick neck, cutting straight through. Its neck attached by only a thin flap of flesh, Haristel slipped off the building and tumbled down to the ground. And like its predecessors, it dissolved into particles of light and disappeared.

“It can’t be! Haristel the Great... was destroyed?!”

“No! Not our angel!”

Apparently, the knights had had high expectations for their dog. After all, it was the guardian angel of the knights protecting the capital. With their angel defeated, there was nothing more they could do. They had lost all hope.

“Kill, kill, kill them all,” I chanted, as if in song. “Slaughter them, and when they fall, slice them up and make meatballs!”

“All hail the queen.”

The Swarms moved in at once.

“Help! Help me!”

“Fight back! If they get past us, everyone in the city will die!”

Some of the knights fled in fear, while others stood up to the terror of death with their weapons at the ready. Even as the Ripper Swarms lopped off their limbs, crushed their heads, and tore into their bowels, they bravely fought back. They hacked at the Swarms with their blades, even knowing how pointless it would be.

And indeed, it was all in vain.

“It’s over.”

All that remained of the Knights of Saint Erzsébet was a messy pile of a gruesome remains. They had only succeeded in taking down two or three Ripper Swarms.

“Shall we march onward, Your Majesty?” one of the Ripper Swarms asked me through the collective.

“Of course. March. Today, we coat Siglia in a layer of death. Glory to the Arachnea.”

“March, march for Her Majesty.”

“March, march for Her Majesty.”

The Ripper Swarms overran everything, just as I knew they would.

♱

Infringement, violation, and ravishment; this was our way.

The Ripper Swarms and I trampled over all who stood in our path. Once we made it to the capital’s center, we invaded a cathedral full of terrified citizens and killed them all. Each and every one of them became an ingredient for our meatballs. Among the victims were pregnant women and crying infants, but my Swarms slaughtered them all the same.

It’s fine, I thought. All of this is necessary.

Our enemy had to be annihilated to secure our victory. I was merely acting in accordance with the game’s rules, and there was nothing wrong with that. The game might have been a bit more realistic now, but the rules remained the same: wipe out every last enemy in order to win. Had I decided to spare even one child, it was possible they would have come after me for revenge many years down the line.

“Onward, my Swarms. Kill everyone you find.”

As soon as the Ripper Swarms snuck behind the northern and southern troops, the soldiers’ fate was sealed. Taking them out was a breeze; the Swarms trapped them in a pincer attack and handily disposed of them thereafter.

The ballistas and heavy infantry posed somewhat of a threat, but the latter were few in number. Only two or three Ripper Swarms were lost in the battle. By now, the Ripper Swarms had learned how to fight these soldiers, so they were able to finish them off with fewer casualties.

All hail the collective consciousness, I suppose.

All it took was for a single Swarm to study the enemy’s fighting style, and that knowledge instantly circulated to the rest. Now that the Ripper Swarms were adopting new methods of dealing with these adversaries, they were no match for us.

Thus, we put an end to Maluk’s northern and southern troops—without mercy, pity, or even a sliver of sympathy. With them gone, the city of Siglia was ours. All that remained was the castle. Once we took down the king, the Kingdom of Maluk would be completely eradicated.

“It doesn’t look like capturing the castle will be easy, though.”

Siglia’s castle was built on top of a cliff extending like a wing from the city. This structure made it so that even if the city itself fell, the castle would still be standing. It was a stronghold solely for those in power.

“How shall we conquer it?” Sérignan asked. “It seems the nobles have barricaded themselves inside the castle.”

“We’re going in the old-fashioned way. At least there aren’t any more walls to take down. Get ready, Ripper Swarms; we’re about to storm the castle.”

I made my orders through the collective consciousness. Countless Ripper Swarms were standing on the path that led to the castle.

“Onward! Attack, attack, attack! Trample over everything in your path.”

With that, my army of Ripper Swarms charged the enemy castle. Soon enough, we would collect the heads of the king, the princess, and the nobles. Those highborn scum would all be reduced to meatballs.

Surprisingly, however, someone would soon stand in our way.

♱

“Your Majesty, our walls have fallen.”

“The eastern, northern, and southern gates have been destroyed. Siglia is now under the monsters’ control.”

The king had little time to digest the dismal reports. All contact with the gates had been lost, and their great capital had become a den of monsters. Additionally, every last one of their soldiers had fallen, meaning there were no shields left to protect them.

“Your Majesty, the enemy will come to take this castle as well. We’ve closed the gates, but I’ve no doubt they will force them open and break through,” said Slava, looking grim.

“We haven’t much time left,” added Omari. “You must come to a decision, milord. Will you use the Jewel? Or will you give in and surrender us to the slaughter?”

King Ivan II stood up and looked around the room. Only once he had confirmed that Elizabeta was not present did he fix his gaze on the men before him. The first prince had died during the conflict in the loess mountains, while the second had fallen at the Aryl River. The first princess had long been married off to the Schtraut Dukedom, which left only Elizabeta, who had no place in the war council.

“I’ll do it,” the king declared, his voice full of resolve. “I will use the Jewel and fend off those monsters.”

“Are you certain, Your Majesty?” one of his generals asked quietly. “Once you use it, there will be no going back.”

“We’ve no choice, given the situation. Is there any other way to save Siglia, to save this castle? Our soldiers, our knights... they’re all gone. The Jewel is our only hope.”

Indeed, they had no other way. There were only a thousand or so men left in the castle; all the rest had been killed. The tens of thousands of soldiers and the order of knights had been defeated by the insectile scourge.

Based on the current state of affairs, how could they save Siglia, which had been reduced to a pile of corpses clambered over by monsters?

“The Jewel is already prepared.” The king held up an amber-colored gemstone about the size of his fist. “Once I pass through the front gate, close it immediately behind me. As we all know, those who use the Jewel lose their sense of reason.”

“By your will, Your Majesty.”

“I greatly respect your decision, milord.” Omari offered his monarch a deep salute.

“Make Elizabeta queen after my passing. Understood?”

“Understood, Your Majesty. Her Highness Elizabeta will be Maluk’s next queen.”

The generals among them watched him with solemn eyes.

“Now, I must be off. Should those fiends have hearts at all, I will surely strike fear into each and every one of them.” Ivan II headed for the castle’s entrance. “I will show them that the Kingdom of Maluk will not be ruined so easily. Just you wait, monsters...”

♱

I watched as the castle gates opened.

“Are they thinking of surrendering?” I asked. There were no enemy forces in sight.

“You wouldn’t accept their surrender, would you, Your Majesty?”

“Of course not, Sérignan. Not after we’ve come this far. The rules don’t allow for that.”

As far as I understood, the game didn’t permit surrendering or peace pacts. You either fought until you destroyed the enemy, or you forfeited mid-game, in which case your faction would be wiped out. In this world, which didn’t permit forfeiture, I had absolutely no intention of accepting surrender.

Letting them live at this point would just come back to bite me. That was why I’d stuck to killing everyone so far. I murdered the tailor, whom I knew. I killed women, children, and the elderly. Nothing was sacred anymore. All I had was a craving for victory. I couldn’t tell if it came from me or from the Swarm, but I could not deny this hunger.

“Sérignan, be careful. The enemy might have some kind of trick up their sleeve.”

“Understood, Your Majesty.”

If this wasn’t a surrender, then the enemy was sending something from within the castle. I had no clue what it might be, but it would likely be a considerable threat.

“Your Majesty, be careful! Something dangerous is coming!”

A row of Ripper Swarms lined up in front of me, forming a living wall. I felt grateful for their protection.

“Show yourself!” Sérignan called out to our unknown enemy, approaching the gate with her sword drawn.

“So you’re the invaders... The ones who have penetrated and violated our Kingdom.”

The one who appeared before Sérignan was an elderly man. Judging by the clothes he was wearing, he was of high status—nobility, or perhaps even royalty. Regardless of who he was, we wouldn’t bother letting him live.

“Yes, that’s us,” I said. “You attacked the elves’ village, and you killed a friend of mine. As retribution, and to feed our desire to stain the world with our darkness, we have invaded your country to its very core, massacring all those who stood in our way.”

“That’s it...? That is why you slaughtered millions of our people, defiled our holy land, and have come to destroy our castle?”

“That’s right. All this was born from our instincts and our need for revenge. We need no other reasons.”

We were the Arachnea, a faction of vicious insects. We killed, we multiplied, we conquered. These drives were hardwired into the collective consciousness. They spurred me to action, as did my personal promise to lead the Swarm to victory.

“You vile creatures are an insult to the God of Light. You were never supposed to be born into this world. You should have never existed. Your being here drove countless people to despair... You are but harbingers of ruin and misfortune.”

“Call us what you want. We’ll continue to obey our instincts. If we’re attacked, we’ll strike back, thoroughly and with unshakable bloodlust. We kill and multiply; that’s what makes us the Arachnea. I’m proud to be in charge.”

Retaliating against an attack was only natural, as was lashing out after being provoked. I was merely stating the obvious. If the Swarm were acting solely according to their nature, they wouldn’t need reasons to justify their assault on the world.

“Prattle on with your nonsense. I will end you right here... by the power of our Jewel of Evolution!”

As though triggered by the man’s words, a large, amber stone in his hand began to shine. Within moments, his muscles rapidly swelled several—no, dozens of times their normal size. Coarse black hair burst out from his pores and covered his body from head to toe.

I was initially taken aback by the transformation, but I quickly snapped back to my senses and focused on what had to be done—removing the obstacle before us.

“Sérignan, keep this thing pinned down! Ripper Swarms, cover for her! Go!”

“Yes, Your Majesty!”

Sérignan stepped forward to subdue the man, who was attacking everything around him in a wild rage. Ripper Swarms pounced on him from both sides. I assumed that so long as we attacked him from three directions, even if he was some unknown monster, he wouldn’t have been able to shake them all off. However...

“RaaAaAAagh!”

The hulking man roared and swept away the Ripper Swarms moving in. Their scythes lodged into his arm and their fangs cut into his flesh, but he kept swinging at them as though he didn’t feel any of it.

My Ripper Swarms, which until now had only been defeated by claymores, halberds, or ballistas, were being torn apart. Their limbs were ripped off, their fangs broken, and some of them were even torn in half. They were dropping to the ground in droves.

“This is just... How are we to handle this?!”

Sérignan was unsure how to deal with the berserker before us, dodging his frenzied fists as she racked her brains for a solution. The angels had been powerful, but this man was even more dangerous.

“Sérignan, have the Ripper Swarms attack in coordinated groups. The moment he shifts his focus to the Ripper Swarms, close in on him and swing. He may have gotten bigger, but he still only has two arms. If waves of Ripper Swarms attack him from both sides to keep his arms busy, it should give you an opening.”

I knew my instructions were somewhat difficult. While the enemy would be occupied, that didn’t necessarily ensure an opening Sérignan could exploit.

“I’ll do it!”

Ripper Swarms lunged at him in groups, baring their natural weapons. At the same time, Sérignan charged him from the front, swinging her corrupted holy sword.

However, her attack didn’t meet its mark.

“Ugh...!”

He sank a kick into Sérignan’s stomach, sending her flying to the side. Sérignan struggled to fix her posture before she stood up to our enemy once more. Just watching her was painful.

“Sérignan, are you all right?!” I cried.

“Do not worry, Your Majesty! I can still fight!”

Sérignan sprang at him a second time, but was kicked away yet again. I tried using the Swarms’ strings to bind the man and inhibit his movements, but he tore them off easily. It was pointless.

There has to be a way we can win this. Some method that will give Sérignan a chance to land her attacks. Something I can use besides the Ripper Swarms. How will we beat this man? Is there still some card in my hand I haven’t used? Something that will save Sérignan?

Then it dawned on me.

“Oh, that’s right. I do have one more thing! Sérignan! Get ready to attack again in five seconds! Ripper Swarms, you attack at the same time!”

“Understood!”

I played the card that would break this stalemate.

“Digger Swarms!”

A split second later, Digger Swarms burst out from the ground. They grabbed hold of the man’s legs in their sharp fangs, rendering him immobile.

Right, the Digger Swarms. I brought them to this battle. He can’t move, and the Ripper Swarms are coming at him from behind. Now’s our chance to strike.

“Haaaah!”

Sérignan sprinted forward and swung her sword at the man’s head with full power. The blade slashed into his meaty neck, severing his head and scattering fresh blood into the air. The man’s body convulsed, and it appeared as though he was about to fall to the ground...

Except he didn’t.

Even without his head, the man warded off the Ripper Swarms’ attacks and grabbed Sérignan between his two giant arms. She writhed and tried to shake him off, but his grip was like iron.

“Sting his arms, Ripper Swarms!” I ordered. We needed to rescue Sérignan.

The Ripper Swarms closed in and injected their paralyzing venom into the man’s flesh. His hold around her slackened, and Sérignan was freed.

“Gah... Urk!” Sérignan coughed and staggered to her feet.

She was in pain, but there was still some fight left in her.

“Sérignan, finish him!”

“Yes, Your Majesty!”

Despite the damage she’d taken, her movements were swift. She took aim and thrust her sword right into the enemy’s heart. This time the man fell to his knees and collapsed, then shrunk down to his original size. We were finally victorious.

“Sérignan, are you all right?” I rushed over to her side.

“Yes, I am fine, Your Majesty.” She looked like she was on the verge of tears. “I apologize for worrying you.”

“Oh, don’t cry. You won. You’re a wonderful knight, and your skill is unmatched. You won this battle for me.”

“Forgive me... Thinking that I have caused you distress makes me feel utterly miserable.”

With that, our battle for the castle came to a close. All that remained was to finish off the people taking cover inside. They had forced so much trouble upon us, we had to pay it back in kind.

♱

As the Worker Swarms carried off the man’s body, I picked up the amber gem he left behind.

“What is this?” I asked as I looked at it.

“I do not know, but it seems dangerous,” Sérignan said cautiously.

I feel like I’ve seen this thing somewhere before.

I couldn’t remember when or where, but I definitely remembered it. My recollection was hazy and just out of reach.

“Well, whatever. We can just ask the people in the castle about it.” I picked it up just as the Ripper Swarms were forcing the gate open.

“They’re here! The enemy is breaking into the castle!”

“What?! But His Majesty set out to defeat them!”

The soldiers within the castle had completely lost their fighting spirit.

Cowards.

“Sérignan, Ripper Swarms, and Digger Swarms... Sweep the castle. Oh, and one more order: find several people of high social standing, and bring them to me alive.”

“As you wish, Your Majesty.”

“Kill everyone else, though. There’s no point in leaving them alive.”

I needed someone who knew about this strange jewel. Normal soldiers wouldn’t be of any value for that. They were only good for one thing, and that was making meatballs.

The Swarm moved according to my orders, tearing the soldiers, servants, and chamberlains to shreds. Every room in the castle was stained with the colors of slaughter. Blood pooled over the floors, the tattered remains of the dead floating on the surface. The stench of death and viscera hung heavy in the air.

“Help! Save me! Please, don’t kill me!” A maid’s screams echoed throughout the stone halls.

Naturally, however, Ripper Swarms soon caught up to her; they stabbed her through the back of the head and tore open her belly. An escaping soldier caught by the Ripper Swarms was beheaded and slashed over and over in the chest.

“Are things going well?” I wondered aloud.

The castle was surprisingly big, but I had deployed countless Ripper Swarms inside. They rummaged through the cellars, guest rooms, and the king’s study, sniffing out any survivors like tenacious hunting dogs. The soldiers were eliminated, the castle servants killed. Mountains of corpses piled up in the building, and only a scant few survived.

Yes, there were survivors, as I had requested. My Ripper Swarms rounded them up, bound them with strings, and dragged them before me. They were all people of high social standing, clad in expensive clothing. All told, there were twenty or so of them, both men and women.

“So, who is the most significant noble out of all of you?” Upon hearing my question, everyone’s eyes whipped over to a single girl, then hastily averted themselves.

Idiots.

“You there, girl. Do you know what this is?” I presented the jewel in front of her.

She gave a small, terrified nod.

“Tell me what it is.”

“That is the Jewel of Evolution. It’s a royal treasure. They say the God of Light gave it to mankind to grant us great power. Anyone who receives power from the Jewel keeps it until they pass on. Wait...” Suddenly, she looked aghast. “No... Could Father have used it?!”

Oh, so that was the king. I suspected as much. But hearing that it granted power felt off to me. The king hadn’t looked powered-up so much as driven mad. Sure, he was stronger, but it made him a rampaging monster.

Then it hit me.

The so-called Jewel of Evolution was originally an item the good-aligned faction Marianne could produce called “God’s Tear.” It granted whichever unit held it divine protection, temporarily buffing them. In the game, Marianne’s units consisted of fanatics, paladins, and angels... Maybe that was why it didn’t drive them mad? When normal humans used it, however, it turned them into raging beasts.

But to begin with, if this wasn’t the game world, what was this item doing here? Had I been mistaken, and we really were in the game world? There was too much I didn’t know, and I had no answers with my current array of knowledge. I could only rack my brains as I considered the facts.

“What have you done to Father?!” the girl screamed.

“If he’s not here, he’s dead. Though I don’t know who your father is.” I was feeling too weary to put up with her whining.

“No...” she whispered, tears rolling down her cheeks.

When Sérignan cried, I thought it was cute, but seeing this pretty adolescent break down didn’t pull at my heartstrings in the slightest. I merely found her sobs grating. I briefly thought to order one of the Ripper Swarms to lop off her head, then reconsidered.

I didn’t feel our actions had been cruel enough to fulfill our need for revenge. There hadn’t been enough tragedy to call this a war. We had earned too little to call this an invasion.Shouldn’t we be doing more?

And then an idea occurred to me.

“Parasite Swarm.” I pulled a Parasite Swarm out of my pocket and held it in front of me.

Our noble captives shrieked at its grotesque appearance.

“From now on, you’ll be my toys.”

“Wait! I’ll do anything you say, so—gurk!”

I ordered Sérignan to hold down one man’s head as I pushed the Parasite Swarm into his mouth.

“Aaaah, aah, gah, aah...!”

The Parasite Swarm slithered into the man’s throat, fixing itself in place and extending its tentacles toward his brain. The man twitched a few times and breathed a few odd moans before his eyes turned hollow, informing me that the Parasite Swarm had successfully taken over.

“You’re next.”

“Don’t! Father, save me! Help me!”

Ugh, what a noisy girl.

Sérignan pinned the girl’s head to the ground and kept her mouth open as I forced her to swallow the Parasite Swarm. The small insect pushed its way into her slender throat before clamping down on her flesh.

“Aah... guh, Fath...er... Aaah...”

The girl’s gaze went blank; the takeover was complete.See? She used to be a real nuisance, but now she’s a sweet, quiet, obedient little thing.

“Infect the others with Parasite Swarms, too.”

“By your will, Your Majesty.”

I left the rest of the work to Sérignan and walked through the now-empty castle alone. There were still pools of blood here and there, but no corpses in sight.

They say Japanese and Germans are diligent workers, but even they don’t hold a candle to the Swarm. My Swarms carry out my orders swiftly and efficiently; that’s why I love them so much.

“So this is the throne room, huh?”

I found a place in the castle with the fewest signs of bloodshed: the throne room. It was designed around a golden throne with a red carpet leading toward it. The owner of this room had died outside the castle gates, so there had been little blood here to spill. And besides, the blood didn’t really appear against the red carpet.

I leisurely walked toward the throne and sat on the lofty seat adorned with gold and gemstones.

“The Queen of the Arachnea...”

The Arachnea was an evil faction that used the Swarm to devour everything in its path. The Swarm wished for victory and prosperity; in that regard, they were scarcely different from mankind. Humans desired the same things, after all, and they came up with all sorts of slogans and greater causes to justify their wars and bloodshed. The stench of blood hanging over the Swarm just happened to be a bit thicker, that’s all. They really weren’t all that different from everyone else, right?

No... Wrong.

The Swarm wished to cover the whole world with their kind. The word “compromise” didn’t exist in their dictionary. Humans, on the other hand, could compromise, negotiate, and make strides to avoid their own demise.

Like moths drawn to flame, the Swarm actively sought to annihilate their enemies, even if it might result in their own eventual destruction. Their urge to propagate and overrun the world spurred them forward. It was their most basic instinct, the wish that bubbled up from the bottom of their hearts, echoing through the collective consciousness.

You really are monsters. But I don’t mind.

If they wished for such a victory, I would do everything in my power to give it to them. Even if they wanted to conquer every corner of this world, I would comply. I had sworn to lead them to victory, and I would fulfill that promise, no matter how many lives it cost.

But I only did this because I didn’t want them to kill me. I was a coward, when all was said and done. If I didn’t make all these excuses, I would fear myself for having ordered all these massacres.

“Your Majesty.”

As I pondered all this from atop the throne, Sérignan entered the room. She bowed before me, and the twenty nobles we had enslaved walked in after her. They followed Sérignan with hollow eyes, tottering unsteadily as they walked.

They were like zombies. Eventually they would be able to walk normally, but since the Parasite Swarms had only just been planted, they weren’t yet functioning effectively. I’d need to keep that in mind the next time I used them. If our enemies could tell what had happened to victims of the Parasite Swarms, the unit would go to waste.

“Sérignan, are the preparations complete?”

“Yes, they’ve all been planted with Parasite Swarms. They’re completely under your control, Your Majesty.”

The nobles fell to their hands and knees in a show of fealty.

“Good work, Sérignan.”

As we spoke, Swarms that had finished their tasks began to gather in the throne room. There were no other living humans left in the castle... no, in all of Siglia. This city had housed hundreds of thousands of people, and every single one of them but our pets had been eradicated. It really was moving, in its own way.

“Well done, my Swarms.”

“We are honored, Your Majesty.” In response to my praise, they assumed an obedient posture.

“All right then, my friends.

. Our loathsome foes have been defeated. The Kingdom of Maluk has been wiped off the face of the world. This has been an impeccable victory.

“But the battle doesn’t end here. We can’t afford to get drunk off our triumphs and rest on our laurels now. What is our next objective?”

“To spread our control even further. To unify the world under the Arachnea’s rule,” Sérignan said.

“That’s right. But the time isn’t right yet. First we need to take over what was once the Kingdom of Maluk. We need time to develop this land. My friends, you must build Power Organs. You must build Fertilization Furnaces, Flesh Depositories, and Massive Fertilization Furnaces. You must build Airborne Flesh Dens.”

The 4 Xs dictated that I had to develop the land I stole from my foes. I needed to make use of what I’d already developed to build what I lacked, and we had to repair what had been destroyed. Developing one’s faction in this way was the true thrill of the game.

I couldn’t cultivate much since I had slaughtered all the humans, but the Ripper Swarm rush hadn’t consumed all the livestock. We could breed those to make an environment suitable for producing new units. Additionally, we’d need money to unlock new structures. From what I heard, there was a gold mine in the north, so we could send the Worker Swarms to mine it.

Phew.

Normally, pillaging and robbing the enemy until there was nothing left to take before moving on would be quicker. But right now, we didn’t want to needlessly provoke our enemies or make new ones, and I didn’t think we had enough resources to fight against the rest of the world with just what we took from the Kingdom of Maluk.

Recklessly starting wars when we didn’t know how large the enemies’ forces were compared to our own would be foolish and lead us to defeat. I had no desire to be a fool, so I opted for us to focus on development for now.

“We’ll have to decide on our internal policy. It might be boring, but please bear with it; it’s absolutely necessary. We also can’t neglect to tighten our borders’ defenses. The Kingdom of Maluk wasn’t our only enemy. There are others out there, and they might come for this land.”

If nothing else, we knew the Schtraut Dukedom was to the north, the Empire of Nyrnal was to the south, and the Frantz Popedom was to the east. Those countries were mostly made up of humans, and they likely wouldn’t react favorably to the rise of a Swarm nation. At worst, the three of them might band together to attack us.

“Protect our holy territory. Our empire will flourish—not with blood, but with our sweat and our efforts. This is the duty of all Swarms, and it will serve as our foothold to world domination. You mustn’t neglect that, no matter what.”

My speech was most unfitting for the Swarm. A fitting speech for them would emphasize stealing, killing, pillaging, and multiplying. They needed nothing else, after all. But countless online matches had taught me that this wasn’t always enough to win. Sometimes you needed to hang back and manage your internal affairs, taking the time to unlock higher-tier units and structures, and build up your army. Otherwise, we would face nearly one-sided battles and eventual defeat.

“Please understand. This is what’s best for us in the long run.” I was asking them not as a queen, but as a player.

“All shall be as you wish, Your Majesty. You need only order us, and we will obey,” Sérignan said as she and the rest of the Swarm bowed in acquiescence.

“All hail the queen.”

“All hail the queen.”

Their reverence was loud and strong.

“Thank you, everyone. I will lead all of you to victory, I promise.”

Now more than ever, I felt the Swarm was very precious.

♱

Beneath the Kingdom of Maluk’s castle was a treasure vault. The treasures within had been sent by their ally, the Frantz Popedom, and it was used as a space for paladins’ baptisms. By rinsing themselves in the holy water that bubbled up from one smooth, marble pedestal, they could gain the ability to summon angels.

However, not everyone who was baptized in these waters developed the summoning ability. Some people remained unchanged, while others would suddenly bleed from every orifice and fall dead in the middle of the ceremony. Only a handful of chosen paladins were granted the ability to summon angels, it seemed. These select few alone could obtain this supernatural power.

Had the Arachnea’s queen seen this baptismal pedestal, she surely would have made another great discovery. It was yet another in-game item possessed by the Marianne, same as the “God’s Tear.” The official name for this artifact was the “Holy Fountain of the Chosen.”

Using it enabled the Marianne to sacrifice the hit points of a non-spirit unit—or rather, a human unit—in exchange for summoning an angel. The Marianne could use its fanatic units, who were only good for running amok through enemy bases, or its paladins, cavalry units who swore fealty to their god. Sacrificing either one of them could summon an angel in return.

It was only a probability, however; there was no guarantee. Should the summoning fail, the unit would be lost, and the faction would have nothing to show for it. Additionally, units with low hit points were more likely to die during the summoning, which could also cause it to fail. But while the angels’ appearances were random, angels themselves were universally strong, and they could withstand the attacks of most units while striking back with impunity. This made attempting the summoning worth it in the end.

“Completely and utterly useless,” someone scoffed down in the treasury.

The voice had come from a girl with black hair and crimson eyes. She was wearing a black, rococo-inspired dress with a gothic flair and laden with lace and frills. The girl stared down at the Holy Fountain, twiddling her fingers in the water.

“I thought these would end up shaking up the game a bit, but they didn’t do much. There are so few heritages left, but all the people who use them are dummies. And they call this a thinking game? Good grief.”

She leaned against the pedestal.

“How long will she play, I wonder? How high can she climb in this world filled with malice? How long will she stick around in this ruthless game played in the depths of purgatory?

“Well, if she finds out, whatever. She’ll probably suspect something’s up once she sees the Empire of Nyrnal. But if I’m going to make this game more exciting, these things are going to have to go poof. Let’s get to it, then.”

The girl’s grip on the pedestal tightened slightly, and the next moment, the Holy Fountain of the Chosen crumbled to the ground. What little holy water remained seeped down into the floor, and the item was rendered unusable. In its current state, one wouldn’t have been able to guess at what it was once used for.

“This game is super-duper fun... and I’ve finally found someone to play with! I’ll continue to let her amuse me. Playing against girls like her is always a blast, after all. Isn’t that right, _________?”

The girl chuckled and danced around the underground chamber with light, airy steps.

“A game, a game, a fun, fun game! All work and no play makes me a dull girl. So let’s play, shall we, Miss Queen of the Arachnea?”

As the girl spoke, all the things hidden in the treasury crumbled into dust. The Mysticism Furnace, capable of converting faith and producing angels. The Baptism Rite Tool capable of turning men into holy beings. The Massive Mysticism Furnace, capable of summoning giant angels.

Each and every one of them was destroyed by the girl’s hands. From the looks of it, none of them had ever been used, but with only the gentlest touch, they all crumbled away.

She didn’t know why the Kingdom of Maluk had never used any of these devices. If anything, they likely didn’t know how to operate them. If they had, they’d have used them to summon angels and deal with the Arachnea’s attacks. Their ignorance had caused them to make a fatal mistake.

The girl hummed pleasantly as she destroyed the Marianne’s items, twirling around in place.

“Well then, the stage is set for our cold-blooded, heartless, massacre drama. Sit back and enjoy, everyone. This is a world where gods may exist, but they never extend their hand in salvation. Aah, let us all dance here under deceptive peace like the sinners we are. For we have been granted this fabricated paradise the false prophets sing of.”

The girl cackled and melted into the shadows. All that remained in the room was the rubble that had once been an array of holy artifacts.

A single Ripper Swarm descended into the underground chamber and discovered the entrance to the treasury. It looked around the room, and while it detected traces of something having been there, it couldn’t tell what. Neither it nor the collective had knowledge of the objects the girl had destroyed moments before.

“Your Majesty, I’ve discovered a basement, but it seems to have already been ransacked by a third party. What should I do?”

“Hmm. It looks like nothing but junk. If there’s no one there, just head back. Our work is finished here. All that’s left is for us to return to base. We need to make this place livable for us, and let the elves know about this, too.”

“Understood, Your Majesty. Your wish is my command.”

The Ripper Swarm concluded its report and went back the way it came, eventually joining the ranks of the Arachnea leaving Siglia’s ruins behind them. Had the queen discovered these Marianne heritages, perhaps the situation would have ended differently.

However, the queen did not yet know this game’s rules. On top of that, she was still ignorant as to why this world existed. Only once she found this out would the real war begin...

The Smoldering Flames

At Saania, capital of the Popedom of Frantz...

“You’re saying the Kingdom of Maluk has fallen?”

Pope Benedictus III, leader of the Popedom and head of the Church of Holy Light, received this troubling news in his office.

The aging clergyman represented the nation’s conservative faction, and he had been elected just a few years ago. Despite being ravaged by fits of illness, he had kept belief in the God of Light strong during his tenure. The Church of Holy Light advocated honorable frugality under the belief that a life of luxury was in opposition to God’s teachings.

Of course, the same clergymen who preached these sorts of beliefs would often receive monetary bribes from the nobility, who prompted them to bend the tenets in their favor. Divorce, adultery, and exploitation of the masses took place in the church behind the scenes.

The aging pope lacked the power to force his beliefs onto every member of the clergy—not because he didn’t have the authority, but because he didn’t have the resilience to withstand opposition. Illness and old age had weakened him, so he couldn’t rule over the church with the same iron fist as his predecessors. The corrupt priests knew this, so they obeyed the church’s doctrine on the surface while fashioning more wicked tenets in the shadows.

“Aye, Your Holiness,” answered the Pope’s right-hand man, Cardinal Paris Pamphilj. “Judging by the information we’ve received, a caravan tried to enter the Kingdom of Maluk three weeks ago, but the migrants aboard were attacked by monsters during their border inspection. Fortunately, they escaped with their lives. After that, they hired adventurers to investigate Maluk’s trade town of Leen, and it was found to be completely overrun by the same mysterious creatures.”

The cardinal was a truly corrupt man. He had once been part of the reformist faction, which aimed to make the teachings of the church more flexible. When he changed his stance to conservative, he had asked everyone to recall and retain the teachings of the past. With the help of Schtraut bankers from the Eastern Trade Union, he had climbed to the position of cardinal.

Following that, he went on to behave as if he’d always been part of the conservative party, skillfully and eloquently moving up the ranks until he became the right hand of the pope. Much like the other crooked members of the church, he accepted bribes and preached whatever his noble backers wanted the citizens to hear. Pope Benedictus III knew nothing of this, however, and still had a great deal of trust in the man.

Still, Paris had yet to return the funds he had borrowed from the Dukedom of Schtraut’s bankers. The same held true for the pope, who had accepted a loan from them upon his nomination.

“What of their capital, Siglia? Has it fallen as well?” asked the pope.

“We don’t yet know for sure, but the situation seems dismal. We’re unable to contact our ambassador there, and I’m afraid the lack of liberation efforts on behalf of a large city like Leen can only mean one thing.”

“If that is true, we should have sent them a relief party sooner. We assumed mere monsters wouldn’t topple a strong country like Maluk... a grave mistake on our part. Oh, God of Light in the heavens, protect us all.”

The Kingdom of Maluk had sent a request for military aid to the Popedom, and the latter had promptly begun preparing its army. The nation had hired mercenaries, prepared a supply train, and said its prayers. In fact, the reinforcements’ preparations had been progressing smoothly.

However, it had all turned out to be for naught. While the Popedom of Frantz was slowly preparing to set out, the Kingdom of Maluk had been destroyed by the army of monsters. From an outside perspective, it had all happened in the blink of an eye.

So the Popedom had intended to send out forces, but with what degree of urgency? Corrupt dignitaries like Paris were embezzling the expedition funds, and the pope himself hadn’t thought the situation was all that serious.

Monster attacks happened fairly often, after all, and the Kingdom of Maluk had brave paladins blessed by the God of Light who were more than capable of dispatching any unruly beasts. Everyone had faith in their abilities, including Paris and Benedictus III.

Reality, however, proved otherwise. The army of monsters had swallowed up the Kingdom of Maluk. Now the Popedom was faced with not just preventing the Empire of Nyrnal’s expansion in the south, but facing the creatures as well.

“How should we respond to this?” asked the pope, still reeling.

“First we must get a handle on the current state of the Kingdom. Sending an army when we know so little of the enemy—that is, the mysterious beasts that attacked Maluk—would be reckless. Let us have the adventurers scout for us.”

“Right... There may be some survivors. Increase the adventurers’ reward and have them thoroughly investigate the Kingdom. Tell them to find out what happened, and who—or what—was behind the attack.”

An adventurer was something of a half-mercenary. Unlike mercenaries, however, adventurers didn’t form large groups, preferring to operate in parties of sixteen at most. They were survival specialists, capable of exploring and infiltrating areas off-limits for most mercenaries. Their primary job was to slay monsters.

Monster hunting was a profession monopolized by the adventurers’ guild, and mercenaries were forbidden from partaking. As such, when it came to fighting monsters, adventurers had the most experience, knowledge, and skill.

“We must also summon the International Council. We may not yet know who attacked the Kingdom of Maluk, but whoever they are, they have enough might to defeat a very powerful nation. We would be reckless to face them alone.”

“Be that as it may, I do not like the idea of asking the Empire of Nyrnal for help. The Empire has continuously ignored our requests to mediate peace and instead continued their aggression, and now the entirety of the south is in their grasp. I can only see them sowing conflict in the International Council.”

The Nyrnal Empire was the strongest force on the continent, and while it worshipped the God of Light, it often spurned the church standing at the center of the religion. Time and time again, the pope had attempted to negotiate with the Empire in order to protect the smaller southern nations, but each time the Empire had instead pushed onward to conquer its opponents altogether.

As far as the Popedom of Frantz was concerned, the Empire was a land of faithless infidels who only worshipped the God of Light on the surface. It was a nation of haughty militarism that was fond of committing all kinds of atrocities in order to expand. The people of the Popedom looked down upon the Empire with scorn, even though the Popedom itself had offered aid to the assailed southern nations only to abandon them in the end.

No, the truth was even crueler than that: Paris had tried to take advantage of those countries’ plight to extort them for money, claiming the God of Light would grant them His protection in exchange for donations... and the sum he requested was always quite vast. In a sense, the Popedom had eaten away at the southern countries.

“The Empire of Nyrnal also shares a border with the Kingdom of Maluk. Their neighboring country was conquered by an unknown force, and so they should strive to action and stand alongside us. If they don’t, they might be next in line for invasion,” said Paris.

“True. It is time they acknowledge our authority. We are all one under the God of Light.”

The pope made a mental note to press the Empire to agree to form a unified front during the council. Its military power couldn’t be denied, of course; the Empire held the unified south under its control, and it was vigilantly eyeing the north for a chance to invade.

“Incidentally, what of the elves? Our report says the monsters originated from the center of the elves’ forest.”

“As far as we know, they still follow the path of heretics. They have not accepted the God of Light into their hearts, and instead look up to their savage forest gods and offer them frequent sacrifices. There is no hope of saving them with our teachings. Those sheep, if you can even call them that, will remain lost.”

Like many other humans, those in the Popedom saw the elves as savages. In fact, they were actually the source of the many unfounded rumors about elves, which had been spread as propaganda to reinforce the God of Light as the one true deity.

Of course, not everyone believed them. Some elves were able to live in the Empire of Nyrnal, however poorly, through trading. They also had citizens’ rights in the Dukedom of Schtraut, even if they were part of the lowest social class. Only the Popedom and the Kingdom of Maluk completely denied the elves of all rights.

“When should we hold the International Council, then?”

“After we finish making the proper arrangements with the Empire, I’d say. We need to arrange things properly so they don’t cause a ruckus. We may have to give them some...incentive to do so, though. Do you approve, Your Holiness?”

“Yes, that is fine. Money is a given in negotiations.”

Words alone would not convince the Empire, so a great deal of money would be needed in times like these. If given enough, Nyrnal’s ambassador would allow the council to proceed undisturbed, at the very least.

“I’ll get right to it, then.”

“Wait. Deploying adventurers is fine, but shouldn’t we conduct our own investigation as well?”

“Are you referring to the Fourth Mystical Research Section?”

“Yes. We should have them look into the Empire of Nyrnal, the elves, and the Kingdom of Maluk.”

The Mystical Research Division was in charge of the Popedom’s intelligence. It was split into sections, with the fourth handling undercover, top-secret intelligence. They dealt in so-called “dirty work,” which at times even included assassination.

“Understood. I will have them hold a covert investigation, then.”

“Please do.”

And so, the Popedom of Frantz began operating in secret... but they were not the only ones making preparations.

♱

Word of the Kingdom of Maluk’s tragic fate had also reached Doris, capital of the prosperous, gold-mining nation known as the Schtraut Dukedom.

“The Kingdom of Maluk... was destroyed?!” Caesar de Sharon, the thirteenth Duke of Schtraut, couldn’t contain his shock.

The middle-aged man’s expression was contorted in sorrow and disbelief. He looked as if he had just been notified of the end of the world. Only news this grave could elicit such a reaction from the leader of the Dukedom.

“I’m afraid so, milord,” said his prime minister, Cardinal Charon Colbert. “It seems they were attacked by mysterious creatures, and even their capital of Siglia was toppled. We cannot currently enter the country. Those monsters are also prowling along the borders, and they attack any invaders on sight.”

The prime minister was Caesar’s most trusted subordinate. He was a cardinal in the Church of Holy Light and also knowledgeable in matters of state. His vast experience in both politics and diplomacy greatly supported Caesar’s administration.

Caesar was grateful that Charon was distant from the Popedom, the center of their religion, because he could state his opinions with relative neutrality. Most of the other cardinals were too deeply rooted in the Popedom to be so frank.

“Aaah, how dreadful,” Caesar lamented. “To think we’d lose the Kingdom of Maluk to something so... inexplicable. I had hoped their military might would act as a deterrent to the Nyrnal Empire, but alas.”

“Yes. As you know, our army is mostly there for show.” Charon shrugged and heaved a sigh. “I was hoping the Empire wouldn’t attack us so long as we clung to Maluk.”

“Quite so. Do you know how much we’ve supported Maluk’s army? We may be affluent at the moment, but who can say when we might find ourselves on the wane. The value of money might suddenly fall, or the Empire might attack us. We supported them in order to prepare for times like that.”

The Schtraut Dukedom had flourished financially and formed a union of guilds which effectively made up the country. Many nations owed the Eastern Trade Union a considerable debt, and its total sum of foreign currency reserves was the greatest on the continent.

The trade union had given a great many loans to the Popedom of Frantz in particular. Everyone, from the pope down to the deacons, had a debt of some sort to repay to the Eastern Trade Union, which was practically its own self-operating territory. But it wasn’t just the Popedom; many other countries, and even the Dukedom itself, owed money to the bankers. Even the Empire of Nyrnal had non-negligible debt with them.

The Dukedom’s leadership was decided by election, and Caesar had been elected to his post a few years back. While he was a duke in title, his riches matched those of the Emperor of Nyrnal. In terms of resources, he was effectively a king.

This election-based method of government was also practiced in the Eastern Trade Union, located in the southeast corner of the continent. It was a limited form of democracy in which chosen guild masters, nobles, and affluent citizens were given the right to vote. Real democracy wasn’t a part of this world as of yet, as it wasn’t needed.

The Schtraut Dukedom had a strong enough population to maintain their domestic demands and a great many debts to collect from other countries; so long as it remained standing, this nation would likely never suffer economic collapse.

But affluent as it was, the Dukedom of Schtraut faced a single problem: Its army was weak. Extremely weak. The heads of the merchant guilds, who held the right to vote, were adamant about investing in trade—where the monetary returns were great—rather than the money-sucking organization that was the military.

Thanks to that, the Dukedom of Schtraut effectively had no military to call its own. It did have a naval fleet, which aimed to snuff out pirate activity stemming from a cove on the legendary island of Atlantica, but its ground forces were a laughingstock.

Things weren’t all that bad, however. They did have a strike force that made use of the mountainous terrain along the Dukedom’s borders. They also had money to spare, which meant they could hire another country’s military or groups of mercenaries if need be.

But that would only be possible when they were definitely in times of war, as the bankers and guild masters were opposed to maintaining a large army during peacetime. Should the Nyrnal Empire launch a surprise attack, the only thing protecting the country’s fortune would be the mountain strike force, its troops skilled but few in number.

To that end, the Dukedom of Schtraut had fashioned friendly relations with the Kingdom of Maluk and intended to create a military alliance with them. Maluk’s military was one of the most prominent on the continent in terms of size, and striking an alliance with them would make even the Empire of Nyrnal hesitant to attack the Dukedom.

Safety in numbers, as they say.

This was the policy Caesar had promoted, and he had tempted the Kingdom of Maluk with large amounts of money. They had just been on the cusp of forming the alliance, too. His plan of many years had been a mere step away from coming to fruition.

But the monsters’ attack on Maluk had reduced it all to nothing.

The bankers and guild masters had been opposed to his alliance with the Kingdom of Maluk; some preferred an alliance with the Popedom, and others argued that there was no threat to be concerned with in the first place. Now they would likely double down on his other polices to tarnish his reputation.

It was possible that his position as Duke of Schtraut would come to an end before his term was up. Such was the authority of the bankers and guild masters, even if they were traitors to the country, seduced by lucrative business opportunities from the Popedom and the Empire.

“Would allying with the Popedom of Frantz be impossible at this juncture?” Caesar murmured. “I believe we’ve discussed it once before.”

Charon shook his head. “I’m afraid the Popedom’s religious atmosphere is simply too strong. The guild masters will probably object to it. They’re interested in money, but they care little for God. Besides, forming an alliance with the Popedom would require us to once again open our coffers. That country is the seat of the pope, after all, who speaks in the name of the God of Light... and they require a great many donations. They use their religious authority as a bargaining chip in order to obtain money, much like the Empire uses its wyverns.”

“So the guild masters and bankers wouldn’t finance an alliance with them?”

“They’d likely be opposed to it, yes.”

“They’d object to anything we might come up with, the bastards. It’s as though their only role in the world is to stand in opposition. Whatever the case, we absolutely need a country to ally with. We need an army to deter the Empire of Nyrnal. And what’s more...”

“There’s no telling when the mysterious creatures that attacked Maluk might come after us. Right, milord?”

That was exactly it. The Kingdom of Maluk was their neighbor, so it was only natural to suspect the Dukedom itself might be next in line. The Dukedom currently had its strike force deployed along the border zones, and they anxiously looked for monsters to appear from the west. The soldiers had sworn to protect the country with their lives, and they remained vigilant despite fearing the monsters’ arrival.

“Precisely. Eating monsters is one thing, but I wouldn’t want to meet my death being eaten by them.” Caesar picked up some documents regarding the defense of their border with Maluk. “We should swiftly reinforce the Schtraut-Maluk border and have our men stand on alert. Hire mercenaries and adventurers too, if necessary. The funds that would’ve gone to our alliance with Maluk should cover the costs.”

“Am I to ensure the guild masters understand the severity of this situation?”

“Yes. If need be, we can have the elves join in as well. The Nyrnals are a threat, but monsters capable of bringing down a nation are just as frightening.”

Caesar and Charon’s discussion continued as the two of them decided the Dukedom’s course of action.

♱

The Empire of Nyrnal ruled over the southern regions, and as the imperial capital of the largest nation on the continent, Vejya was appropriately maintained. The streets were quite wide, with guild offices on either side, the striking of anvils ringing out incessantly. The city’s walls were the largest on the continent, and atop them flapped the Empire’s banner: a red dragon brandishing a sword.

But that wasn’t just the Empire’s symbol; it was the symbol of its might over the other countries. The red dragon was a wyvern, a scaled beast capable of soaring freely through the skies, dealing death to its enemies. It was also like a crimson vulture, devouring the flesh of the fallen on the battlefield.

Using its wyverns, the Empire of Nyrnal invaded the southern countries one after another, gobbling them up to mature into a grand empire. Only four years ago, the Empire of Nyrnal was merely one of many countries in the south, but the sudden appearance of the wyverns had allowed it to rise as a major power.

The other nations all eyed the Empire as a suspicious newcomer, believing it was still hungry for more territory. The Kingdom of Maluk had built a great fortress near the banks of the Themel River, though it had been destroyed during a recent attack. The Dukedom of Schtraut had swiftly approached Maluk in hopes of forming an alliance that would deter the Empire. As for the Popedom of Frantz, it had appealed to the Empire in the name of the God of Light, pressuring the larger nation to contain its hostilities.

But this grand country had ignored them all. The Empire swelled with dignity and pride as the greatest force on the continent... and it intended to go further still. The Nyrnal Empire’s inflated ambition was to rule over the entirety of the continent, uniting all its territories under the banner of the red dragon.

As the mightiest player, the Empire, too, had heard of the Kingdom of Maluk’s fate.

“According to the information we received from the Third Imperial Secretariat, the monsters have completely conquered the Kingdom of Maluk,” reported Bertholdt von Bülow, a man of about thirty years old. “We’ve lost contact with the embassy in Siglia, and Maluk’s other cities all seem to be overrun with monsters.”

This hook-nosed fellow was the Chief Cabinet Secretary, and he managed all of the emperor’s tasks and obligations. Having only come into his position during the previous emperor’s reign, the man was shrouded in mystery, leading many organizations to investigate his background.

Some of the people who looked into him were spies employed by nobles in the Empire; others were from the Dukedom of Schtraut’s Office of External Affairs and the Popedom of Frantz’s Fourth Mystical Research Section. The Eastern Trade Union had also done their own prying into his past. All of these groups had sought to find out how this man had pushed his way up to the position of the emperor’s right hand, but their attempts were unsuccessful.

All they knew was that just after this man appeared, the Empire of Nyrnal began spreading the fires of war in the south.

“I see. The grand Kingdom of Maluk was brought down by mysterious monsters... What a pathetic excuse for a country. It seems their militarism was just for show. If that was the case, then we should have attacked them sooner.”

These disdainful words came from Maximillian von Leuchtenberg. This middle-aged man had unified the south and made the Empire of Nyrnal into a nation feared by the rest of the world. Five years ago, Maximillian had inherited the throne from the former emperor, Friedrich III. And with his rise to power, he began the unification war, during which Nyrnal had devoured the countries of the south under his command.

The other major powers despised this man, and his existence was especially loathed by the Popedom of Frantz, which declared him akin to a devil. He was infamous in the Dukedom of Schtraut as well, where people whispered that he had been born in the pits of hell, like a demon, and had climbed to the surface world to conquer it. Bankers of the Dukedom had even offered to back dissidents within the Empire, hoping to drag him down from his throne.

Both countries failed to usurp Emperor Maximillian, however, and his appetite for conquest was more voracious than ever. Using the wyverns that formed the backbone of his military, and the countless crafty plots concocted by Bertholdt, he had conquered the south with ease. The Empire’s citizens revered him as a hero, while the other major powers and the nobles who’d had to flee their southern homelands abhorred him as a vile creature who relied on scaly vultures to succeed.

Why did Maximillian begin his war, indeed? Few knew the answer to that question. Was it purely out of ambition? Did he start the war over some childish hero complex? Or had these invasions been meticulously planned movements that carved out Nyrnal’s future? Whatever the reason, there was a sense of impatience to his actions. The man who could be called the greatest ruler on the continent was being spurred by something, though no one knew what.

Only one thing was certain: Maximillian wasn’t satisfied with his absorption of the southern countries, so he would eventually extend his reach to the north. His hundreds of thousands of troops carried their red dragon banner high, waiting for their chance to strike.

At present, Emperor Maximillian was still digesting news of the Arachnea’s destruction of Maluk. It was only natural that he would, as Maluk had been his next target for conquest.

“Nay, Your Majesty,” Bertholdt said. “Apparently, these monsters possess terrifying strength. Our scouts engaged the creatures near the border, and their attacks were mostly ineffective. The enemy was so unnaturally fast that our men were forced to retreat.”

“Hmm.” Maximillian rubbed his chin. “So we cannot underestimate the enemy... Clearly they are more than mere monsters.”

A few armed scouts had crossed the Themel River on Bertholdt’s orders and attempted to fight the Arachnea’s defensive forces. It was only a small skirmish, but it had still been a one-sided fight in the Arachnea’s favor.

“We need more information on these monsters. Analyze all the intelligence we’ve gathered so far, and find out more if you can. We need to learn about these creatures faster than any of the other countries. I can see these monsters shaking up the entire political balance of the continent.”

Maximillian could sense that this was more than a handful of monsters running around on a rampage... that this would become a dispute that embroiled the entirety of the continent.

“By your will, my liege,” Bertholdt said, inclining his head. “I will have the Third Imperial Secretariat gather information.”

The Third Imperial Secretariat was a department that dealt in both covert operations of a diplomatic nature and the gathering of intelligence; it was comparable to the Popedom’s Fourth Mystical Research Section. During the unification of the south, its members manipulated information to prevent various countries from forming a rebel front against Nyrnal, dissolving their relations by spreading rumors and mistrust.

“As for your report on the Popedom, they obviously intend to use this situation to unite everyone in the name of the God of Light. Furthermore, I have no doubt they will take advantage of the current tumult to snatch up every military on the continent. We cannot allow it.”

Maximillian had already learned that the Popedom of Frantz intended to gather the International Council, and he suspected it was planning to force all the other major powers to relinquish their armed forces under some ridiculous pretense.

“We haven’t received word from the Popedom yet, but do you suspect they might be plotting something?”

“I do. They have repeatedly complained about our unification of the south. It’s unlikely they’ll sit quietly while this monster business is afoot. They’ll spout their nonsense about the God of Light and move about as it suits their ends.”

“I adamantly agree. For so-called holy men, they are hardly trustworthy.”

The Popedom was indeed trying to gather the International Council, though as of yet there was no telling if it was to seize control of the other military powers.

“Also, the Popedom is likely trying to bribe our diplomats. Make it known that anyone found to have taken a bribe will be hanged.”

“As you wish, my liege.”

Evidently, Maximillian had seen through an attempt from the Popedom to bribe his men.

“Officers in the Ministry of Foreign Affairs might not be the only ones; their servants may be bribed for information, too. Hang everyone who has accepted a bribe, regardless of where it came from. We cannot be too cautious, so make no exceptions. Anyone who tries to fool the Empire of Nyrnal must be met with a swift death. Only in so doing can we maintain our integrity.”

“Understood.”

Like Maximillian had said, there was no telling who might have been trying to bribe their citizens for information. When it came to crucial discussions of the state, there was no telling how many people might have been involved. Even those of the lowest social status might happen to hear something crucial or stumble upon some important document.

If the contents of any such document or conversation were to leak to another country, it would leave the Empire with one card less in its hand in the game of diplomacy. The Empire of Nyrnal had little in terms of soft power, so it needed every advantage it could get. Losing even a single edge could be deadly.

“What of the Themel River?”

“Construct a fortress there and station some of our troops. Withdraw a few units from the forces we sent north and have them head for the Themel to begin construction. For all we know, those monsters can cross the river. We must prepare for every possible contingency. We cannot allow ourselves to fall prey to them, too.”

The Themel River was a natural obstacle, but it wasn’t impassable. Over the course of history, the Kingdom of Maluk had crossed it four times, while the southern countries had crossed it three times, leading to invasions of the south and north respectively. Eventually, the Kingdom of Maluk had managed to draw its southernmost border at the Themel River.

“What will we do regarding the Schtraut Dukedom, then?”

“Right. Offer generous military support to that pitiful little country. Should they refuse, tell them we won’t come to their aid even if the monsters cross their borders. If the monsters are mighty enough to stomp out Maluk, the Schtrauts are likely shaking in their boots and preparing to flee the continent as we speak. In the end, they’re the same as the Eastern Trade Union—fools who think of nothing but money.”

If the Dukedom agreed to their military aid, then the Empire’s forces would be stationed and then normalized in their territory; it would effectively be a military occupation. The Empire had used such methods during the unification of the south. It would force neutral countries into a pincer between enemy countries, then station its army in the middle under the pretense of assistance. The Empire would then use this army to seize power from within. It was a truly vile method of conquest.

It was because the Empire of Nyrnal preferred using such methods that the Dukedom of Schtraut feared it so much. This quasi-democratic country knew that the Empire would easily occupy its land, extort its citizens, and snatch away its independence in the blink of an eye.

“You believe they would flee the continent?” Bertholdt asked. “Fleeing would be easy. If you’ll excuse me, my liege, I say let the wealthy merchants become poor migrants if they want to.”

“The taste of despair will hit them soon, for they will be faced with the simple truth that there is nowhere to run. But for the time being, we must first make sure the Popedom dances for us. And dance they will.”

First, the Empire of Nyrnal would press its demands in the International Council. Ideally, it would grasp control of the newly formed allied forces. To take full advantage of that, the Empire would then send its army into each of the other major powers. Even if it couldn’t seize control right away, the Empire would be able to use the allied army’s dispatch as a bargaining chip and increase its influence over the continent.

“And we can use this monster uproar to take control of more territory—the Dukedom, the Eastern Trade Union, and the Popedom... It is imperative that we unify the entire continent under our control, and soon. We must spare all who live here the fate that befell the Kingdom of Maluk.”

After all, what could be more awful than a war... or those monsters?

“Incidentally, what of Georgius?” Maximillian abruptly changed the subject.

“He still lies dormant. Should we wake him?”

“Depending on the situation, that may be necessary,” Maximillian said, leaning back against his throne’s backrest. “In times like these, the lands of dragons may need their hero—both the Empire and Gregoria.”

Gregoria was another faction from the game, same as Marianne... and it was a land of dragons.

Alteration

“The Kingdom of Maluk has been reduced to ruins,” I declared to the residents of Baumfetter.

Scars from the knights’ attack on their village were still visible everywhere. I was standing in the village’s assembly area, which was near the newly erected graves of the fallen. To supplement my declaration, I presented the nobles I had taken captive.

“Isn’t that Princess Elizabeta?”

“Did you really destroy the Kingdom of Maluk?”

The elves looked over the prisoners with disbelief. Their skepticism didn’t surprise me; from what I could tell, the Kingdom had been persecuting them for a long time. But with reality thrust before their eyes, the elves were bound to understand that the Kingdom of Maluk had met its doom, and that the Arachnea was terribly powerful.

“I’ll say it again: all that remains of the Kingdom of Maluk is rubble; there’s no one left to threaten you now. Additionally, the Arachnea is in control of the Kingdom’s former land. But don’t worry, we intend to allow you to freely live in this forest. It will be your own autonomous territory, and you will be free to govern it as you wish. We will have to supervise your diplomacy, though.”

“We’re quite grateful, but are you sure this is all right?” asked the village elder.

“Sure, I don’t mind. We’ll have to keep an army stationed here, and we’ll hold absolute jurisdiction over your military. From what I’ve seen, the area around this forest is a crossroads, with the Schtraut Dukedom to the north, the Frantz Popedom to the east, and the Empire of Nyrnal to the south. If anyone tries to take military action against you or the Arachnea, this place will become a battlefield.”

“A battlefield?!”

Elves were such a complacent race. A good look at the map would have made it clear this area was in the middle of an intersection between the four greatest countries on the continent.

True, there was no highway running through here, and there were no fields either. This world depended on feet and carriages to ferry goods, so maintaining an army’s line of supply would be difficult... but not impossible. Countless victories against the odds had taught me that any challenge could be overcome with enough motivation.

“Don’t worry about it. You’re under the Arachnea’s protection. We’ll dispose of any country that tries to harm you. Or would you rather be under another country’s protection instead?”

“No, not at all! It’s only thanks to you that we’re safe right now... and that the loved ones we lost have been avenged. We’re lucky to be in your care.”

Naturally, I thought. As far as I had found, all the most powerful nations on this continent worshipped the God of Light. Uncouth monotheistic zealots, the lot of them. The elves wanted to practice their own religion in peace, but those countries had tried to force them into abandoning it to instead worship the God of Light.

But now that they were under our protection, they didn’t need to worry about that. If nothing else, I had no intention of infringing on the elves’ beliefs. Gods didn’t exist either way, so they could believe whatever they wanted.

If there were gods out there, they’d have heard Lysa’s prayers and saved Linnet, and they’d have punished me for slaying so many people; I knew this because I had experienced modern faiths back in my own world. But neither of those things had taken place. According to myth and legend, gods loved to force mortals to partake in all sorts of trials. They tested people to see if they could prove themselves to be pure and noble.

In that regard, I was a complete and total failure. I had no way of knowing if there was a god out there, but if there was, I had no doubt he or she hated me. I would no doubt be cast down to hell for my actions, and I would have no choice but to obey. Yes, if God was real, I was destined for the netherworld.

“I hope we continue to be on good terms going forward, then. In fact, I’ve got the contract right here.” I spread out a diplomatic paper detailing our relationship on the table. “This document states that so long as you stay under the Arachnea’s protection, you retain your autonomy in the forest. Could a representative of yours sign it?”

If they signed, the elves would receive our protection, have a right to self-government in the forest, and retain diplomatic relations with us. I didn’t know how to write in this world’s language, so I had Elizabeta write it for me.

I’d have to learn how to read and write at some point, but thankfully the Swarm’s collective consciousness made studying much easier. If one of them learned a bit of grammar, it would transmit to the rest, enabling them to learn it too. When it came to vocabulary, if one individual learned to separate terms into categories like military, cooking, weather, and so on, the others would learn it in no time. I could use Elizabeta and the other captives to learn how to write.

“I will handle it.” As could be expected, the elder nominated himself.

“Then just write your name here, as the representative of Baumfetter.”

“Here, yes?” The elder delicately wrote down his name, though I couldn’t read the elven language, either.

Honestly, he could have written “nincompoop” instead, and I wouldn’t have been able to tell the difference. Despite that, I chose to trust him. The elves had witnessed the overwhelming power of the Arachnea, and they knew they’d gain little by opposing us. Well, if they didn’t realize it now, we’d just have to drive the point home later on.

“Then I’ll put my name right here...”

But just as the words left my lips, a cold shock came over me.

What was my name?

I definitely had a name back when I lived in Japan, but right now, I couldn’t recall it. I was drawing a blank about this key part of my identity. My name was completely gone from my memory, as though it had never existed.

“Is something the matter?”

I, on the other hand, was on the verge of throwing up. Had my consciousness been completely consumed by the Swarm’s, leading me to forget myself? It was certainly possible.

“Your Majesty...?” Sérignan asked worriedly.

Right, Sérignan has a name, and she’s connected to the collective consciousness just like I am... so that’s out.

“Sérignan,” I whispered.

“What is it, Your Majesty?”

“Sérignan... give me a name.” I was clinging to her for support. “Anything will do. I need a name.”

“A name?” Sérignan knitted her brow. “How about Grevillea?”

“Grevillea? What does it mean?”

“It is the name of a plant, also known as the spider flower.”

It was the name of a fair flower... and one fitting for the leader of the Swarm.

“All right. Thank you, Sérignan. From today on, my name is Grevillea. Grevillea, Queen of the Arachnea.”

Having gained a name, I felt like I had grown a bit more distant from the collective consciousness. I didn’t know if that was for better or worse, but I was relieved to be able to affirm my individuality. It meant I was still distinct from the nameless Swarms.

“I’ll sign, then.” I wrote my name and title on the document. “With this, we’ve sealed our agreement. I hope our good relationship extends far into the future.”

And so the forest elves officially entered the Arachnea’s protection. Some among them were opposed to the decision, but upon learning that we had defeated the Kingdom of Maluk, and that they were now being threatened by the strongest nations on the continent, they quickly changed their minds.

♱

“Now the elves should have some peace. Even if we’re faced with the largest, strongest army on this continent, we still have a fair chance,” I said.

I was back at the original Arachnea base. It hadn’t been used in some time, but it was a functional base all the same. It still had a working power plant, a Fertilization Furnace, and a flesh depository. I had even built some of our newly unlocked structures and facilities here, but I didn’t plan to use them until later down the line. At the moment, we didn’t have enough resources for them to start producing units.

“I had lunch at Baumfetter today, so I’ll skip my next meal. Thank goodness I can kiss that hard bread and jerky from our long marches goodbye. Time to have a nice, warm bath and sleep in my soft bed.”

The new facilities hadn’t come with a bath, by the way. I’d had the Worker Swarms build it a while ago, when I complained that I wanted a proper place to wash off.

“Care to join me, Sérignan?” I asked her on my way there.

“May I?” She blinked in surprise. “But I can’t remove my armor, so I’ll surely get in the way...”

“Oh, right, you can’t take that off. Couldn’t you use your Mimesis, though?”

Sérignan’s armor wasn’t a piece of equipment, but part of her body, so she couldn’t take it on and off... in her present form, anyway.

“I could try, I suppose.”

“Mmm. We’ll have to get ourselves a large hot spring or something.”

Taking a bath with Sérignan was turning out to be a bit more problematic than I thought. As I was trying to come up with more ways to do so, a voice called out behind me.

“Your Majesty, may I have a moment?”

The Arachnea base was protected by Ripper Swarms, so it wouldn’t be easily infiltrated. The only people the Swarms would let through were the elves who came to offer us food, the elder, or the few elves I had a personal connection to. When I turned around, I came face to face with someone awfully familiar.

“Lysa? What are you doing here?” I asked. “Do you need something from us?”

“Yes. Umm...” Lysa fidgeted in place. “I want you to let me join the Arachnea’s army.”

“You want to join my army? Why?”

“I’ve been thinking that I’m not good enough as I am now. If only I were stronger back then, I could have saved Linnet.”

Lysa had had to watch her childhood friend, whom she loved, die right in front of her eyes. Naturally, it was still on her mind even now. It would have been strange if she hadn’tbeen hung up over the death of the person she had grown up with and promised to marry.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t need elves in my army. I understand your reasons, but I can’t allow you to join us.”

“Please! I want to be as strong as Sérignan!”

I held the elves’ skill with a bow in high regard, but it didn’t suit my fighting style. The Arachnea was a threat bound together by the collective consciousness, capable of attacking the enemy with overwhelming numbers and unparalleled solidarity. A single elf in my army wouldn’t really contribute anything. If she were a unit capable of evolving like Sérignan, it would be a different story, but even then, only Sérignan was connected to the collective consciousness.

“Hmm... In that case, would you be willing to give up on being an elf?” I asked quietly.

“What do you mean?”

“If you’re truly willing to shed your race and become part of our ranks, there’s a very simple way of doing so.”

Yes, it was almost too easy.

“This is a Converter Furnace,” I said, walking over to a nearby structure. “It turns other living beings into Swarms. I built it thinking we could capture wild animals like bears or wolves, or even monsters, and forcibly turn them into Swarms. But it should work on elves, too.”

This was one of the new structures I’d asked the Worker Swarms to build. Its primary function was transforming non-Arachnea units into Swarms. If I were to use it on bears, for instance, they would become Swarms that had bear-like traits; if I used it on wolves, I would end up with Swarms that had an especially keen sense of smell. The transformed units would also be loyal to me, since becoming a Swarm linked them to the collective consciousness.

I didn’t know what would happen if I were to put an elf inside it... but when I had captured human units in the game and used the Conversion Cauldron on them, it resulted in human-like Swarms. In fact, in Sérignan’s own backstory, she swore fealty to the Arachnea’s queen and stepped into a Conversion Cauldron of her own will. I figured it would probably work the same way for an elf, but I had my doubts.

“I’ll warn you ahead of time, though: the Swarm has a collective consciousness. If you become a Swarm, you’ll be swallowed up by it. At worst, you might end up losing your individual will.”

Lysa wasn’t a Swarm. She had her own personality and free will. I couldn’t imagine what would become of her if she was integrated into the collective consciousness. She might end up forgetting her beloved Linnet, or she could retain her individuality even within the collective, like I had.

“Please, let me do it. I want to be stronger so I can protect the people I love. I’ve already lost Linnet... I won’t lose anyone else.”

Lysa was determined to do this, and she didn’t really seem to mind my warning. She would not allow herself to forget Linnet; that much was clear. The memory of his death was still deeply ingrained in the Arachnea’s collective consciousness as well. After all, that was the moment we had decided to declare war on the Kingdom of Maluk.

“All right. I can see you’ve made your decision. Go ahead inside the Conversion Cauldron, then. It’ll all be over before you know it.”

I opened the doors to the Conversion Cauldron, which was eerily similar to an iron maiden, and gestured for Lysa to enter.

“Here I go...” Lysa took a deep breath and walked inside.

I closed the doors on her, and then...

“Aaah, aaahhh, aaAaAHhh!”

Her piercing scream rang out from inside the device.

“Lysa?! Lysa, are you all right?!” I felt panic rising up inside me.

But soon the screaming died down, and the Conversion Cauldron opened back up again.

“So this is what being a Swarm is like...”

Lysa’s appearance had changed drastically. Like Sérignan, she had insectile legs sprouting from her new body—eight legs, to be precise—and a scorpion-like tail. She seemed quite baffled by her new form, inspecting her arms and tail curiously.

“Well, are you still... you?”

“Yes, I’m fine.”

Her consciousness hadn’t been consumed by the collective. When I considered her, Sérignan, and myself, maybe it wasn’t actually all that easy to lose oneself to the Swarm.

“Can you use Mimesis, Lysa?” I asked enthusiastically,

“Mimesis?”

“Try imagining your old body. Concentrate on it, hard.”

“My old body...”

Lysa hummed as she imagined her elven form, and after a moment, her chestnut hair twirled into a pair of twintails, and her body was once again lithe and small, clad in pants and a tunic.

“I’m back to the way I was?”

“Not exactly. Mimesis is kind of like a disguise. If you lose focus, you’ll go back to your Swarm form.”

Upon seeing Lysa’s eyes dart around in surprise, I had to suppress a giggle.

“Anyway, I hope to see you do good work, Lysa. Welcome to the Arachnea. We’re glad to have you.”

Thus, I turned Lysa the elf into one of us.

What a pleasant surprise this was, I thought. Having two units capable of using Mimesis should increase my range of strategies.

♱

War had begun. This terrible conflict would surely consume everything. Yes, the hounds of war had been let slip, their howls as sharp and shrill as the screams that would ring out during the inevitable massacre.

It was the Arachnea that had started this war. This fearsome nation had appeared out of nowhere, baring its fangs against the world. Its grotesque insects had crawled out from a pitch-black womb and consumed the Kingdom of Maluk. Now they stood primed for their next assault, with their queen there to guide them.

This conflict would soon be called the Arachnea Campaign. Cries of war echoed through cities, villages, fortresses, affluent neighborhoods, guild streets, and slums. Soldiers and generals alike called out, with voices crying out for blood around them.

The emperor, the king, and the duke all convened, gathering mercenary groups and ordering their combat engineers to fortify the walls. Walls that had not seen a single scratch for many peaceful years were soon guarded by soldiers wearing brand-new uniforms, vigilantly keeping their gazes fixed westward.

They believed that the enemy—the insects—would surge in from the west. Keep your eyes on the west, their superiors said. Be wary of the west. Should the enemy come, raise your voice. Blow the horn of war, and cry out, even if you are driven mad. Such was the soldiers’ duty, even if it meant wearing out their throats in the process. As servicemen, they were willing to sacrifice themselves even if they were up against nightmarish, many-legged horrors.

Were they ready for the insects’ arrival? If they were not, then it was far too late for them. Their land would be devoured by an army of bugs, and their citizens would be made into meatballs. If they did not take every measure possible to stop the wicked tidal wave, they would never survive.

It was as if the gates of hell were on the verge of swinging open into this world. Yes... The tyranny of the Arachnea was upon them. Even the haughty Emperor of Nyrnal held his breath as he awaited the creatures’ impending march. The Arachnea cast a shadow over the Popedom of Frantz, one their faith in God could not illuminate. All the other countries could only quiver in terror.

Where would this flood of insects reach next? Everyone waited with bated breath, doing their best to prepare for the worst—the Schtraut Dukedom, the Frantz Popedom, the Empire of Nyrnal, and all the other small countries in between. They dreaded the coming of that flood, and so they prepared.

“We go northeast,” the Queen of the Arachnea declared.

Her order coursed through the collective consciousness, and every single Swarm under her command turned its compound eyes to the northeast... to the next country that would taste devastation.