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The Purge

“Oh, this is bad,” I whispered. I had observed the recent events in Schtraut through the collective consciousness from the safety of the Arachnea’s base. “Our biggest enemy has strong-armed permission to pass through the Dukedom. I can’t believe the impeachment plot actually worked... I thought things were going well with Duke Sharon, but I guess I’ll have to fight that third-rate noble, Leopold.”

Caesar and I had discussed forming an alliance at length. I made many concessions, including giving the Dukedom the right to develop Maluk’s land for itself. In exchange, the duke had to forbid other armies—especially the Popedom’s—from crossing through his territory and into ours.

Now that that third-rate idiot had assumed the position of Duke, all those negotiations had gone down the drain. I didn’t think it could get any worse, but he followed up with the pettiest, most inane move imaginable...

He began a political purge.

Leopold’s purge involved hanging any nobles who opposed his stances and burning their domains to the ground. It was a primal, asinine strategy of the highest order. The Dukedom had the Arachnea as its next door neighbor, and somehow it had us beat in that department.

Worse still, he had a flock of other third-rate nobles backing him. The situation was spiraling out of control.

“Sérignan, there’s been a change of plans. Now that it’s come to this, we have to subjugate Schtraut by force. Get ready to set out at once.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” she replied with a bow.

“War again, huh?” I muttered sadly. “Fighting is the Swarm’s way of life, but I can’t help but feel a hint of regret. I really did like that country.”

At my side were a great many Ripper Swarms and some new Swarms I had just recently produced. Meanwhile, Sérignan and Lysa were making the necessary preparations for our march. The Masquerade Swarms I had snuck into the Dukedom would be an asset to our invasion; they would slay and devour soldiers garrisoned inside the border’s walls and help us break into the country.

“Listen up, everyone... Our alliance with Schtraut has fallen through. The country that was supposed to be our ally was stolen away by a foul usurper and has now become our enemy.” My voice resonated through the collective consciousness. “The usurper has, in his foolishness, made us the enemies of his country. We are no longer on good terms; the Dukedom of Schtraut is now acting in direct opposition to us. And the enemy must be exterminated. Such is the law of the Arachnea.”

The Arachnea devoured all. All who opposed the Arachnea would be consumed.

“We will tear the enemy apart and swallow them in our dark tide. There is no need for mercy. Trample them thoroughly and utterly. May victory shine upon the Swarm.”

“All hail the queen!”

“All hail the queen!”

Voices of praise filled the collective consciousness.

Wait, no... Stop it. I really wanted to ally with that country so we didn’t have to shed any needless blood. But I failed. I’m just a hopeless idiot.

“Your Majesty.” Sérignan stepped in front of me, interrupting my self-derision. “It is not your fault that your efforts did not bear fruit. That usurper is to blame. Let us set forth and strike him down.”

“You’re right. It’s time, Sérignan.”

♱

“We’ve arrived, Your Majesty.”

“Yes... It’s only been a short while, but it still feels nostalgic.”

Our forces decimated the guards stationed at Schtraut’s reinforced border, allowing our entire army to enter the Dukedom and begin our conquest. My Masquerade Swarms, stationed all over the country, informed me that the enemy forces had already begun mobilizing their army but were weighed down by internal opposition and domestic backlash.

That’s what you get, you third-rate noble.

We stood before Marine, the first city we’d visited in the Dukedom. The city gates had been opened by the Masquerade Swarms, but something felt off.

“Your Majesty, do you smell that?”

“I do, Sérignan. It reeks of blood and iron. The bastards really did it.”

The seaside city I’d grown fond of had completely changed since the last time we’d been here. The buildings had been razed to the ground and reduced to rubble. The inn Sérignan had first chosen for us was burning, and the sight of its expensive furniture between the gaps in the blackened roof made me wince. This was where we had stayed while working hard as adventurers, but now it was crumbling to ash.

We soon found that the tavern was on fire, too. The owner who had given us information and some unlucky patrons were riddled with projectiles. The dwarf who’d warned me not to drink at such a young age was lying in a pool of blood.

Next, we stopped by the Adventurers’ Guild, which had also been thoroughly destroyed. The party we’d worked with to take down the manticore had clearly protected one another to the bitter end. They lay with their glassy eyes fixed forward and not a single wound on their backs: Edgar, the swordsman who had guided us and taught us so much; Bruno, the archer who’d fought alongside Lysa; and Bridgette, the sorceress who had worried for my safety... They were nothing but corpses now.

While there, we also came upon the body of the chatty receptionist. After being assaulted and murdered, her head had been stuck upon the guild’s signboard.

Just what did these people do wrong? All they wanted was to live in peace. Hatred and anger bubbled up inside me. But thinking back on it, hadn’t I done the same? When the Kingdom of Maluk’s knights attacked the elven forest, I struck back out of vengeance and many innocents died. Am I any better than those who brought about this tragedy?

My actions were in no way just, but they were not truly evil, either. We’d had a noble cause: to defend the elven forest. At the time, the Kingdom of Maluk had been, without a doubt, an intruder that put the Arachnea at risk.

That didn’t mean the massacre was justified, though. In the end, there was no real justice in this world, only repugnant deeds hiding beneath righteous banners to promote people’s selfish goals. Even back in my old world, it hadn’t been easy to decide who was right and wrong when it came to war. Everyone was right... and everyone was wrong.

But in that sea of gray morality, I could confidently say this: the “justice” enforced by Leopold and his lackeys was so downright wrong that it made me sick.

“Who was this town’s mayor again?”

“It was the man called Basil, Your Majesty.”

Oh, that old fart. He helped us a great deal.

It wasn’t long until I found him. He had been hanged in the city square, and his body swung back and forth in the wind.

“Let him down,” I ordered.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” said a Ripper Swarm, obediently setting to the task.

“Once we are finished here, you are to turn all the citizens into mincemeat. Not out of hatred and contempt, but out of a desire to absorb their wills. This is the only way we can pay our respects.”

Leopold had done this; there was no doubt about it. He was cutting down the opposition one after another. He was killing any nobles who went against his decisions and burning their lands to the ground.

These people must have hated the soldiers who came to slaughter them and their families and comrades. They probably cursed their own powerlessness, lamenting that they were not strong enough to change their tragic fate. At least, that was my impression.

Rest assured, you didn’t die in vain. I’ll turn you all into meatballs, and you will fuel the forces that will destroy the man who did this to you... and the Popedom, too.

It was an awkward, grotesque mourning rite, but my gesture was filled with the utmost respect.

Forgive me.

One by one, we turned everyone in Marine into meatballs—the innkeeper, the people at the tavern, the Adventurers’ Guild receptionist, and Basil de Buffon. We used them to bolster our forces and set up a forward operating base in Marine. After building a Fertilization Furnace, we used Marine’s departed to create more Ripper and Digger Swarms, which we then sent out to the front lines.

I couldn’t help but feel uneasy about this gesture, but it also seemed oddly fitting. In this way, the citizens of Marine would be able to exact revenge for their own deaths.

Let us press onward, everyone. I have a great deal of hatred and frustration to let out today.

♱

The idiot noble finally deployed an army from the northwest to stop our invasion. It was a mish-mash of soldiers gathered from other nobles’ territories. He sent a detached force of 100,000 soldiers, but their gear and weapons weren’t consistent and they lacked coordination.

We clashed in the Samhul Plains, a flatland with excellent visibility. It was a great place to fight—a fine stage upon which to trample the enemy.

“Ripper Swarms, are you prepared?” I asked.

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

The Ripper Swarms are good to go.

“How about you, Lysa?”

“Ready, Your Majesty!”

So is Lysa. Excellent.

“And you, Sérignan?”

“I am, Your Majesty.”

My knight is ready to fight as well.

“Then let’s begin,” I said, urging them forward. “Sérignan, Lysa, you two go ahead.” I would let them lead the pack and break through the enemy’s front lines.

“Ripper Swarms, march!”

300,000 Ripper Swarms followed my order. Conquering Maluk had netted me enough resources to build this force of Ripper Swarms, and this was still only a fraction of my total army. Their numbers would only grow larger as we went along.

“Sérignan, Lysa... I want you to kill as many people as the Ripper Swarms do—and then some, if you can. Earn those points, girls.”

“Understood, Your Majesty!”

Honestly, I could finish this battle just by rushing the enemy with Ripper Swarms. Our impending victory was obvious; we had three times as many troops. There was no real need to bother with strategy, as we would one-sidedly slaughter the enemy either way.

Still, I couldn’t afford to do that; I needed Sérignan to gain experience points. Besides, simply defeating the enemy with sheer numbers didn’t have the elegant flavor I preferred when it came to battles. I wanted to thoroughly and carefully make my preparations, then crush my enemies with deadly efficiency.

“Aaahhhh!”

“Hah!”

Sérignan cut down enemy soldiers with her longsword one after another. Meanwhile, Lysa was firing off countless headshots with her longbow.

“Don’t take them on by yourselves! Group up and surround them! Those girls aren’t normal!” barked one man, presumably the enemy’s commander.

“You heard the man! Surround them!”

Sérignan and Lysa are keeping the front lines busy. Good; they shouldn’t be able to move.

“Ripper Swarms, advance from both sides. Box them in.”

Taking advantage of the enemy’s distraction, I sent my Ripper Swarms out in two massive wings. The ragtag army flew into disarray as the great insectile pincer closed in on them. As the Ripper Swarms advanced into the fray, they began shredding the soldiers apart. At this point, the rest was easy—with the enemy’s formation in tatters, this would be a simple extermination.

“Help me!”

“I-I surrender! I surrender!”

“Have mercy! Please, spare me!”

Some of the soldiers here had probably been in charge of setting fire to Marine, so I couldn’t afford to spare anyone. They had provoked our wrath, so they needed to face the consequences. If they felt entitled enough to bring death upon others, we had the right to bring death upon them.

I’d prepare myself if I were you, Leopold. Your personal army is next on the chopping block.

“Help me! Somebody, save me!”

Oh, would you look at that. A survivor.

“Sérignan, why aren’t you killing him?”

“I thought he could serve as an example, Your Majesty.”

“An example, huh? Planning on stringing him up as a warning or something?”

“Actually, if I may be so bold, I was thinking we could have the Ripper Swarms tear him apart or flay him alive in front of his comrades. Our enemies seem to be under the impression that we are beasts of some sort, so I believe we should show them otherwise. They must see that we’re intelligent beings capable of calculated cruelties.”

“Not bad. I like it, Sérignan. A public execution would show them we’re intelligent and that we do more than murder willy-nilly. Let’s show the fools who picked a fight with us what we can really do. We’ll keep him alive until the next battle.”

“By your will, Your Majesty.”

We were the Arachnea, an organized faction of sentient beings connected by the collective consciousness. I couldn’t allow them to lump us together with mindless beasts. The Ripper Swarms, created solely for slaughter, were far smarter than the third-rate buffoon trying to snuff us out.

“Still, a simple execution is lacking in taste. Let’s have him confess his crimes.”

“Confess?”

“Yes. He’ll confess to slaying the citizens he was supposed to protect and to massacring numerous innocents. It should strike a blow to the enemy’s morale... assuming they can still feel shame, that is.” I looked down at my hand, where a Parasite Swarm had begun coiling around my fingers.

In one quick motion, I shoved it into the pleading soldier’s mouth. Under my control, he would report the truth of what happened in Marine to the rest of his comrades. I would’ve preferred him to willingly admit to those crimes, but I couldn’t expect that level of decency from one of Leopold’s underlings. The man probably didn’t even think he’d done anything wrong.

Despite preparing this punishment, however, I didn’t really feel like I’d achieved anything. It just felt hollow. Having dealt with that matter, I led Sérignan, Lysa, and the Ripper Swarms further east into Schtraut.

The towns along the way were in about the same condition as Marine. I saw many nobles who must have opposed Leopold hanged in their territories, which had then been burned down around them.

Those poor nobles... And all these innocent commoners...It’s fine. I’ll avenge each and every one of you. Retribution is the only mercy I can offer.

Reality and Reverie

For some time, we pursued our enemies without catching up. They burned places down as they fled... Not that their scorched-earth tactics were enough to stop our charge.

“They’re getting desperate,” I muttered upon seeing yet another torched town.

The townsfolk had all either been hanged or decapitated. They must have resisted, or perhaps they were subjects under a noble who’d opposed Leopold. Whichever they were, it was a terrible sight. Not that I was in any position to speak after what I’d done to Maluk.

“We’re stopping here to rest for today, Sérignan.“

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

We had been marching the whole day, but the nobles’ army was always one step ahead of us. The Dukedom’s own forces were nowhere to be found. While they were far more organized and well-equipped than the nobles’ soldiers, they avoided fighting at all costs.

Our enemy was being frustratingly elusive, which left us with no choice but to halt, rest, and refuel.

“Shall we have hot pot today? We’ve got plenty of ingredients.”

We had some kelp to make soup stock as well as mushrooms, vegetables, and dried meat. I decided that tonight we would feast on hot pot—a mouthwatering meat and vegetable stew that was hard to turn down. I was sure Sérignan and Lysa would enjoy it, too, so I wanted to put my all into making it.

But first, I was positively parched. The Ripper Swarms had procured some water from the local wells, so I filled a cup and lifted it to my lips. Just as I took the first sip, however...

“Ngh!”

A searing pain ran through my chest, and it felt as if my throat was rapidly closing up. I tried coughing a few times, but it didn’t make me feel any better. The agony spread through my body, shooting from my chest to my back and then down into my stomach. Unable to endure, I crumpled to the ground. I couldn’t breathe, and the pain was threatening to drive me mad.

Poison...! That’s it; they must have poisoned the wells. You actually pulled a fast one on me, you stupid bastards...

“Your Majesty!” Sérignan, having noticed something was wrong, dashed over to my side. “Are you all right?! What’s the matter?!”

I pointed to the cup rolling on the ground with a shaking finger.

“The water is poisoned...?! Curse them!”

Now that they were aware, Sérignan and Lysa wouldn’t meet the same fate. That was a relief.

Thank goodness...

“Your Majesty! What happened?!” Lysa also ran over to us.

“Lysa, Her Majesty’s been poisoned! Do you have some medicine that might be able to help her?!” Sérignan asked, her voice cracking with desperation.

“I have some herbs that might serve as an antidote, but I don’t know if they’ll work against this kind of poison...”

“At least try it! If Her Majesty were to die, I... I...!”

Knights aren’t allowed to cry, Sérignan.

“Open her mouth, please. I need to dissolve the herb in water first.”

“Here, use this; it’s clean water. We can’t use the wells—they’ve been tainted by the enemy.”

Lysa and Sérignan worked fast to help me recover, but I didn’t think their efforts would mean much. The pain had already spread through my entire body, and I couldn’t work up the strength to speak anymore. I doubted there was any saving me at this point.

“It’s ready! Have her drink this.”

“All right.”

Sérignan tried to pour the antidote mixture down my throat, but it only spilled from my mouth.

“Damn! I’ve got no choice... Forgive me, Your Majesty!”

Something soft pressed against my lips. I realized it was Sérignan’s lips only as my consciousness faded to black.

♱

I awoke in a room. Namely, my room. I was in my apartment back in Japan.

All around me were familiar things: my kotatsu, a calendar flipped open to the month of December, my fridge... and enshrined at the back of the room, as if it were the real master of this space, was the desktop PC where my favorite game was installed.

“I’m... back?”

At first, I glanced suspiciously at my surroundings. Then I hopped to my feet and opened the fridge. A pleasant chill wafted out and brushed against my skin. Inside was a plate of pork-and-ketchup stir-fry and some salad... A meal I had made myself.

This really was the world I belonged to. I was finally home.

Next, I looked around for my cell phone.

Where did I put that thing? Ah, there it is.

My smartphone was in its usual spot, plugged in and charging. I hurriedly picked it up and opened the contacts list. With trembling fingers, I dialed my mom’s number and pressed the phone against my ear.

“Hello? Mom? Can you hear me? Mom...?”

“Yes, I can hear you just fine. What’s wrong?”

It was her. It was really Mom’s voice.

“Mom, I... I’ve killed a lot of people.”

“What? Are you talking about that game of yours again? Spend your free time however you want, but make sure you don’t neglect your studies.”

Naturally, she didn’t believe me.

“Take care of yourself, okay, Mom? I’m doing fine, so don’t worry about me.”

“Well, aren’t you a good kid? Don’t forget to come visit for New Year’s. We’ll be waiting for you.”

We both hung up the call.

“Okay, I am back. I’m... finally home.”

Why, then, did I feel so lonely?

I wondered what had happened to Sérignan, and Lysa, and the Swarms. Had they managed to conquer the Dukedom of Schtraut? Had they successfully defeated the Popedom of Frantz? And what about the Empire of Nyrnal?

I hope they’re all doing well.

After that thought passed through my mind, I naturally reached out to turn on my PC. The computer buzzed as it came to life, and once I had reached the blank desktop, I clicked the icon for my favorite game. It booted obediently, and a gloomy tune played through my speakers as the program began a new version update.

Did the interface always look like this?

Once the update had concluded, the game loaded. I clicked “Load Saved Game,” then the latest save file. It had a map name I didn’t recognize, but my chosen faction was, as always, the Arachnea.

It all felt oddly nostalgic.

Once the save had loaded, I began to play. My faction occupied a land in the west, and it was about to invade a land in the northeast. I had a large army of Ripper Swarms—one so large it actually caused the game to lag. The army was championed by my beloved hero unit, the Bloody Knight Swarm Sérignan. Looking at it filled my heart with affection. Another unit stood beside Sérignan, an Elf Archer Swarm called Lysa.

Huh? “Lysa”... Was she added in the latest update? I can’t remember, but it sounds so familiar.

I randomly selected a group of Ripper Swarms and advanced them forward. The screen briefly flashed a message: “Enemy Detected.” My Swarms had encountered a group of enemy soldiers. I pulled back my little group momentarily, luring the soldiers in, and then had the rest of my Ripper Swarm army surround them and attack.

Some of the enemy units tried to escape, but they weren’t much of a threat; I wiped them out with ease. Their remains were converted into meatballs with my units’ Predation ability, and these were then carried off into flesh depositories where they would be used to produce more Swarms.

I checked my flesh depositories, only to find they were quite full. Perhaps fashioning some new units was in order. Just as I thought to do so, I scanned the map... and saw the very same units I was about to create.

Oh, I already made them? Man, I’m a real creature of habit.

Still, those units were too far from the front lines, so I had to make do with what I had on hand. Instead, I sent my Ripper Swarms out to scout. Apparently I had planted some Masquerade Swarms in various enemy cities so they could gather information. I used the intel they provided to mobilize my army.

I could only win by taking out all enemy units and structures. With that victory condition in mind, I decimated the enemy’s defense forces and worker units stationed in various towns. Ripper Swarm losses notwithstanding, bringing down the enemy’s defenses was a breeze; they were almost tooweak.

Pushing my units onward, I crushed anyone and anything I came into contact with. Soon the enemy faction started sending out cavalry units—probably its main force. Their charge attacks were powerful, so I decided to send out my Bloody Knight Swarm Sérignan to intercept them. I also had my Archer Elf Swarm Lysa support her with ranged attacks.

My Ripper Swarms, being early-game offensive units used for rushes and provocation, were no match for the cavalry. The cavaliers tore through them as if they were made of paper... but the fallen Swarms cleared a path so Sérignan could strike. She swung her sword this way and that, protected by Lysa’s covering fire.

It worked. The enemy’s assault was growing slower, and the units were demoted to mere infantry on horseback. I took this opportunity to surround them with a relentless Ripper Swarm assault. I was losing more and more Ripper Swarms by the minute, but the enemy couldn’t withstand these repeated attacks.

Within moments, Sérignan had wiped out every last one of them, securing us an invasion route. I ordered my Swarms to charge. The Masquerade Swarms committed suicide bombings in order to pry open the gates. Once my Swarms had a way in, it was killing time. The insectile comrades I’d cultivated for over a year butchered the enemy and ruined their structures with indiscriminate ferocity.

It was one-sided annihilation.

Things might’ve been harder for us if the enemy had deployed some heavy-armored units, but all they had left was infantry and light cavalry. Ripper Swarms were more than enough to handle these. Our side suffered some losses, of course, but so long as Sérignan was alive, I didn’t mind having to make sacrifices. All the other units were disposable pawns that didn’t gain any experience points.

This was just a game, after all. It wasn’t as though the humans or Swarms were really dying; this was all just a world of ones and zeroes. While I was lost in thought on the matter, my countless troops overwhelmed the enemy. Nearly half of the enemy’s country was already under our control.

Y’know, I’m pretty hungry. I should take a break and eat something. Maybe those leftovers in the fridge? Yeah, that sounds good. Can’t get my strategic juices flowing without some good old heavy calories.

The moment I stood up from my chair, however, my computer beeped out a notification sound. I turned to look at the monitor, only to see two new text boxes. One of them had the heading “Is this where your game ends?” Curious, I clicked it open.

“You are capable of so much more than this. The other world is where you truly belong. You could go anywhere else, but that world is the only place where your talents will be acknowledged. You haven’t forgotten the oath you swore to your precious bugs, have you? You promised to lead them to victory. Absolute victory.”

Where I truly belong...? I belong here, in Japan. I mean, this is my place. Going to pointless lectures, then coming back home to play this game... That is my world. Is there even any other?

My mind beginning to swirl, I opened the second text box. This one was called “Wake up!”

“Your Majesty, please wake up. We need you. You are our guide. I beg of you, please wake up! Once you return to us, you can lead us once more. You cannot die on us, Your Majesty.”

As I read the second message, tears welled up in my eyes. I couldn’t even understand why I felt so emotional; all I knew was that someone needed me to save them, and it was my duty to answer that call. If I didn’t go, whoever sent this message would surely fall apart.

“You’re leaving?” said a voice from behind me.

I whipped around to see a strange girl standing in my apartment. She was wearing all white, gazing at me with sorrowful eyes.

“A foul being has ensnared your soul,” she said. “It’s the Devil’s Game. This game has no way out... and no ending. You are the Devil’s entertainment, dancing around in the palm of its hand. Yet here you are, ready to return. Are you certain of your decision?”

“I have to,” I heard myself say. “They’re waiting for me.”

What? Who are they?

While I didn’t know, I could tell “they” were extremely important to me. I couldn’t just abandon them. There was no way I was going to leave them out there to fend for themselves, even if I couldn’t remember who they were at the moment.

“I see. So you’re leaving. I made this space for nothing, then. A pity.”

Suddenly, the room began to crumble away. The walls, the furniture, the flooring—all of it peeled away into nothing.

“So this... wasn’t my apartment?” I asked, flustered.

“No, it wasn’t. It was a transient space I created using your memories. I thought being here would put your soul at ease... It truly is a pity. This might not have been a definitive solution, but it would have healed your soul, even if your body were to perish. Despite that, you still choose to go back to the Devil’s Game.”

I could hardly keep up with what she was saying.

“But someday, I will save your soul. I promise you, I will save you before the Devil’s cage closes.”

She reached out and took hold of my hand. Hers was warm and soft; it reminded me of something, but I couldn’t recall what. No... Something within me was resisting the memory. There was a wall around my heart, and inside, something was screaming.

“Never forget your human heart, _________.”

“Wait, my name...!”

But the moment I said those words, my consciousness once again began to fade away.

What was it she called me? What was my name?

I was filled with unease. Something told me that the moment I would come to know that name, I would truly return to my own world.

Discord

“Majesty...! Your Majesty!”

Someone was calling for me. But how could that be? Why would someone treat me like a queen? I was just a gamer—a lonely girl fixated on the one game she liked. Why would anyone call me “Your Majesty”?

Oh, right... I still need to put my leftovers in the microwave. I haven’t even had dinner yet. I think I have salad dressing somewhere, too. I just have to heat it up and then I’ll have a nice meal.

“Please, I beg of you, wake up...” the voice sobbed.

My eyes fluttered open. As my vision adjusted, I saw that I was no longer in my familiar apartment. I was lying on a bed in a different room, an old-fashioned one with exotic-looking details. There were no lamps or light bulbs, so all that illuminated the room was the natural light shining in through the window. A woman was gripping my arm, her face buried in my chest.

“Sérignan...?” Her name spilled out of my mouth.

“Your Majesty! You’re awake!” The woman sat up with a start and gaped at me excitedly.

“I... What happened to me?”

I couldn’t make sense of my situation. Just moments ago, I was still in my room, playing the video game. Why was I here now? My mind was a complete mess.

“Your Majesty, are you in any pain?”

“I’m... I’m not a queen,” I said, shaking my head.

“Oh no. Have you lost your memories? Perhaps you contracted some disease that muddled your recollection...?”

“Um, I don’t know. I have no idea what you’re saying, I swear.”

I’m just an unremarkable gamer who happens to be really good at using the Arachnea. Wait, the Arachnea? Haven’t I been playing that faction a lot lately?

“Lysa! Her Majesty’s awake, but something’s wrong! Come here!”

Lysa? Another familiar name... Isn’t that the new playable unit they introduced in the last update? She was in my faction last match, and she helped Sérignan handle the cavalry’s charge.

“I’m here!” another girl cried, running into the room.

Just like in the game, she was an elven girl with the lower half of an insect, and she was carrying a longbow. She slung the longbow behind her back and hurried to my side.

“Your Majesty, how do you feel? Are you all right?”

“I’m a little confused...”

Why am I talking to a video game character? I play a real-time strategy game, not a role-playing game. But... it all looks so real. Sérignan’s cheeks and Lysa’s slender arms look so soft and silky, like they’d feel pleasant to the touch.

“Erm, pleasant...? Well, um, if that’s what you want, Your Majesty,” Sérignan stammered.

“Huh?!”

They heard my thoughts? That’s impossible. But wait, aren’t I...?

“Sérignan, can you tell me what my position is?” I asked, suddenly thinking more clearly than before.

“Your position, Your Majesty? You’re our queen—the Arachnea’s queen. You promised to lead us to victory.”

Yes. Now I remember.

It was all flooding back to me. This was a world where the Arachnea existed, but was treated as an outsider. A coup d’état had broken out in the Dukedom of Schtraut, so I was marching an army of Swarms into this nation to suppress it. We had to complete our conquest before the Popedom of Frantz invaded.

My memories had returned, yet there was still one doubt in my mind.

“But someday, I will save your soul. I promise you, I will save you before the Devil’s cage closes.”

Is this place a cage? What did that girl mean?

“Sérignan... and Lysa.” I took a deep breath. “I remember everything now. I am your queen. I can’t believe I forgot something so important. I am supposed to lead your conquest... I’m so, so sorry.”

“Oh, Your Majesty!” Sérignan clung to my body and began weeping once more.

“C’mon, no crying,” I said, embracing her. “You’re a knight. You’ve got to be dignified, you know?”

“I truly thought you had forgotten all about us! I was completely useless while you were sleeping... I didn’t know what I’d do if you didn’t wake up.”

“That’s enough,” I said, wiping her tears away with a corner of my shirt. “I’m sorry for worrying you, Sérignan. I’m all right now. I won’t go anywhere, not until we have earned the victory I promised you. I would never go back on my word. Anyway, how long was I asleep?”

“Two or three days,” Lysa said, relief written plainly on her face. “We’ve been applying an antidote little by little.”

“Two or three days, huh? Has anything changed since?”

“Nothing yet,” Sérignan reported. “It looks like the enemy is struggling to gather their forces.”

“Right. Then let’s get back at them. They need to be punished for this nasty trick they pulled. If they want to murder, I will show them firsthand how it’s done.”

“Never forget your human heart.”

I wouldn’t forget—but this was something that had to be done. We needed to get revenge. Our enemies had massacred the citizens of Marine, and they were intent on staining every other city with blood. It was only fair that we slaughtered them in kind.

An eye for an eye... Isn’t that how humans work?

♱

“This is ridiculous!”

A shout echoed through the main camp of the nobles’ army.

“We came to fight and win, so why must we bide our time here?! We should be engaging the enemy—pushing them into a decisive battle! Are you saying we’re fated to lose this battle?! We should be fighting the enemy right this minute! Do you not agree, friends?!”

The one conducting this passionate speech was Marquis Adrian de Arden, who had an army of 50,000 men. He was loudly criticizing the actions of the fourteenth Duke of Schtraut, Leopold de Lorraine.

“Now is the time to hold our position, Lord Arden,” said Roland de Lorraine, Leopold’s younger brother and the commander of the nobles’ army. “Fighting back would be playing right into the enemy’s hands. We’ve received word that the Popedom’s army has begun to march, so we should meet with them and join forces before engaging the enemy. Our adversary wants us to move carelessly so they can exploit even the smallest mistake.”

“He’s right, Lord Arden,” said one noble. “Oh, and do keep in mind that Duke Lorraine is hanging his opposers left and right. You’d do well to obey his orders, assuming you don’t wish to find yourself next in line at the gallows.”

“Good grief,” harrumphed another. “We should never have let Duke Lorraine take control. This sort of thing would’venever happened if Duke Sharon were still in power. Impeaching him was a mistake. While it might be too late to say that now, I can’t help but complain. I mean, look at the state of affairs!”

Many of the nobles were greatly displeased with Leopold’s “administration.” They hated and feared his quick execution of those who opposed him, and they loathed that his incompetence had led to the Arachnea’s invasion.

“Please don’t say that,” Roland begged, trying to placate them. “Leopold has established an alliance with the Popedom; we have no need to fear the Arachnea or Nyrnal any longer.”

“So now we’re supposed to bend a knee to Frantz’s sleazy holy men? We’d be better off serving Nyrnal.”

“That’s right! The Popedom of Frantz is just another arrogant country bent on domination. They act like they’re the only nation who follows the God of Light. ‘Sizable donations to the Church will absolve you of your sins’... Pah! I never would’ve expected that the God of Light would be hurting for money, all of things.”

Roland’s attempts at persuasion fell on deaf ears as the nobles made their grievances known.

“The Popedom of Frantz will make a great ally,” he said firmly. “I’m sure of it.”

It was hard to tell just how much Roland actually trusted the Popedom. Frantz had long weaponized faith in order to squeeze all sorts of things out of the Dukedom and its citizens, including funds for papal inauguration ceremonies and religious festivals. To many, the Popedom was a leech that would use any excuse to suck more money from other nations.

Was allying with a country like that truly the right idea? Both the Popedom of Frantz and the Empire of Nyrnal were haughty, powerful countries in their own ways. Considering recent events, perhaps the Dukedom really would have been better off under Nyrnal’s control.

“Lord Roland... Please, be honest. Was allying with the Popedom the right decision? Has your brother led us down the wrong path?” asked one of the nobles, his expression grave.

“It’s... hard to say at this point. Speaking frankly, gentlemen, I do think the impeachment was a mistake. Changing leaders during a national crisis creates far more problems than it solves. It’s difficult to judge whether my brother can exhibit the leadership skills Duke—erm, Lord Sharon had. Purging so many nobles during these difficult times will cause an even greater rift between our people.”

Roland disagreed with the impeachment, as he knew the many problems a change in leadership caused when war was on the horizon. Now the Arachnea was crawling around in the western end of their lands, and Roland was beginning to doubt if they had any way of pushing back the invasion. Perhaps if they had allied with the Arachnea, like Caesar de Sharon had proposed, all this trial and tragedy would have been avoided.

One of the nobles sighed. “Still, we’ve already given Duke Lorraine the power to steer this ship. All we can do now is ensure we do not sink to the bottom.”

“True. Our hands are now stained with the blood of the nobles and blackened from torching their lands. Pray as we might, this is one thing that won’t change.”

The nobles present were the ones in charge of destroying Leopold’s opposition. Under the pretense of unifying Schtraut, they had hanged innocent men and reduced their lands to ash.

“Pardon me, sirs! I have a report!” A soldier on horseback cantered up to them. “The monsters have been sighted! Fifty of them! They appear to be fleeing to the west!”

“There we go! Finally, a chance to show our worth!” The marquis and the other nobles quickly rose to their feet.

“Wait, this could be a trap!” warned Roland.

“I’ve heard enough out of you! Now is the time to fight! The Popedom might be our ally, but we still have to defend our own country! We’ll show Frantz we’ve still got the spirit of an independent nation!”

The hot-tempered nobles ordered their soldiers to head west, hoping to take revenge for their recent losses. Some 1,600 cavaliers and 150,000 infantrymen stormed out in pursuit of the enemy.

Not a single one of them returned.

Two days later, Roland learned that the entire detached force had been decimated. He quickly gathered the remaining nobles, and they all fled as fast as they could to the east.

♱

“The enemy’s splitting its forces up,” I observed, watching the carnage unfolding before me.

The squad of Ripper Swarms I’d sent out to scout had successfully lured the enemy away. Once the soldiers had been led to an area where the terrain worked in our favor, the whole army of Ripper Swarms had descended upon them. The enemy troops had stormed into our trap with bloodlust and zeal, only to end up as blood splatters on the ground.

I found it strange that the enemy had detached another chunk of its army to send our way—first 100,000, now 150,000. Normally, consolidating these forces to create an army of 250,000 would have made much more sense. Sending out multiple battalions spread units too wide and made them easy pickings.

“Maybe there’s a problem with the enemy’s chain of command?” Sérignan proposed.

“Could be. The coup is fresh in everyone’s minds, after all.”

Leopold had only just seized control of the Dukedom of Schtraut from Caesar de Sharon. Stupid and petty as he was, Leopold’s first order of business had been starting a political purge. It would be impossible for him to maintain order now.

“Are they not awaiting the Popedom of Frantz’s army?” asked one of the Ripper Swarms.

Each individual Swarm’s thoughts were transmitted through the collective consciousness, and their words were usually quite brief. According to the collective, they had just finished annihilating the 150,000 soldiers.

“That could be. If the Popedom has been given permission to enter Schtraut, maybe Leopold’s underlings are dividing their forces to buy time until Frantz’s army arrives. I imagine the nobles in charge of these soldiers just so happen to be Leopold’s political rivals...”

Traditionally, the duke of Schtraut was chosen through an election. Leopold probably saw other nobles with authority as threats to his re-election and so had shuttled them off to die in battle. The more I thought about that man, the more I hated him.

“He’s a traitor to his own country,” Sérignan said, bristling. “He keeps whittling down the Dukedom’s army, and now he’s forcing it to nurse off another nation for protection. If the Dukedom places its military affairs into the hands of the Popedom, it will be entirely subject to Frantz’s will. What a stupid, cowardly man. I can’t help but hate him, and I’m not even on his side.”

“Agreed,” I nodded grimly. “I can’t stand Leopold. I wouldn’t hesitate to kill him... and as luck would have it, I can. Anyway, keep heading east, and wipe out the enemy as you go. Ruin their towns, too. Any settlements that remain belong to the nobles who destroyed Marine, so there’s no need to show them mercy. Turn their citizens into meatballs and gather up all their gold. We need to unlock new structures.”

We were fast approaching the heart of Schtraut. The trade country’s well-paved roads hastened our march. We built FOBs near the front lines along the way. Our objectives were simple: crash down upon enemy cities with a wave of Ripper Swarms, reduce the citizens to meatballs, and gather up all their gold.

One, two, one, two.

Even without a drum and fife to give us rhythm, we marched onward. Eventually, the first town’s walls came into view. I ordered the Masquerade Swarm stationed there to blow open the gates. In addition to Mimesis, the Masquerade Swarm also had a special Self-Destruct ability. The resulting explosion created a hole wide enough for us to pass through.

“God, oh, God of Light! Please, deliver us from this evil!” cried one of the soldiers guarding the gates. The rest of his comrades also babbled out terrified prayers.

Praying will get you nowhere. Search the world over, but you won’t find God.

Their faith meant nothing. It would not spare them from being crushed beneath our feet.

A legion of Ripper Swarms rushed into the town. They climbed up the ramparts, killing the soldiers who were trying to take aim at them with ballistas. The mages were also quickly found and exterminated. I hadn’t forgotten the time Sérignan was blown back by a wave of magic right before my eyes.

“Your Majesty, what are your orders?”

“Same as always. Crush them. Destroy them.”

Overrun them.

The Swarms spilled out into the city streets, indiscriminately killing everyone they met, be they soldiers or civilians. A part of me wondered if this was the right thing to do.

“Never forget your human heart.”

That girl’s voice echoed in my mind. Had I lost my human sensibilities? Was I doing something my human nature would forbid? Had my heart become the heart of a monster?

“Is something weighing on your mind, Your Majesty?” Sérignan asked, sensing my anxiety through the collective consciousness.

“Just a bit. Sérignan... Do you think I’m still human?”

“You are human, Your Majesty. No matter what others may say, that fact will not change. However, you are still the Arachnea’s queen—the one meant to guide us. You are human, but you are no mere human.”

“I see.”

You say I’m still human, but I’m pretty much convinced that I’m a monster now, complete with a monstrous heart.

There was no point dwelling on it, though. Our hands were already stained by the anomalous act of war. War was a peculiar thing; only in wartime would someone who dropped an atomic bomb on hundreds of thousands of innocents be hailed as a hero. I myself was now deeply invested in war, so perhaps it only made sense that I was going a bit mad.

To end this war and exact my revenge, I would destroy this town and any others we came across. We would murder. We would make our meatballs. We would pillage what remained.

All of this was to end the fight over the Dukedom of Schtraut and to allow the Arachnea to live in peace. I might have been willing to slaughter, but it wasn’t without meaning. Even if I did lose my human heart, the Arachnea would accept me. And so long as they gave me a place to belong, I was happy.

Still, I got the feeling I was moving further away from Japan and the world I truly called home. I felt that if I continued along this path, I would never return to my own world. I would never spend another precious moment with my friends or family again. That thought left a tinge of loneliness in my heart.

♱

“Leopold!”

Roland was storming through the duke’s residence in Doris, the capital of Schtraut.

“Where is Leopold?!” he cried, grabbing a nearby servant by the collar.

“Erm, His Grace is resting on the second floor,” the servant choked out.

“Laying about at a time like this...” Roland said bitterly.

He climbed the staircase in search of his brother. The duke’s office and bedroom were on the second floor; Roland checked his bedroom first.

“Leopold!” he said, swinging the door open without bothering to knock.

“What is it, Roland?”

Leopold was resting indeed. He was surrounded by several prostitutes and countless bottles of alcohol, chatting with a few other men. This certainly wasn’t how one would want to find a politician during wartime; if the people of Schtraut were to hear of this, it could easily spark a revolt.

“What do I want? Leopold, do you have any idea what’s happening to our country? There’s an army of monsters marching upon us from the west, and the nobles’ army is in tatters! Yet you’re just sitting here drinking with whores?!” Enraged, Roland grabbed a bottle and threw it onto the floor. The glass shattered, and its pungent contents pooled on the floor.

“What’s got you so on edge, my dear Roland?” Leopold said, casually opening a new bottle to pour one of the men a drink. “The nobles’ army has been cut down a bit, that’s all. Even if it does get wiped out, our victory is assured. We have our trusty allies from the Popedom, after all!”

The men he was entertaining were officers from the Popedom of Frantz. Their army was stationed just outside the national border, ready to cross into the Dukedom’s territory as soon as the order was given. The only reason they hadn’t yet crossed was because Leopold wanted to allow the Arachnea to wound the other nobles by destroying their collective army.

“Then tell our allies to come and help us already! Our front lines are on the verge of collapsing, and our cities are falling one after the other! Are you planning to rule over a pile of rubble?!”

“How dare you! I’m doing everything in my power to save this country! I stationed extra soldiers in our cities, and I ordered the towns in the enemy’s path to be burned to the ground! This should have slowed down their progress! Yet you stand here and criticize me?!”

“And I’m saying everything you did was absolutely useless! Our enemy is already deep in Dukedom territory! Soon they’ll break through our meager defenses and go deeper still! Did youreally think scorched-earth tactics would work against man-eating monsters?!”

These scorched-earth tactics had unexpectedly rendered the enemy’s leader comatose for a few days, but they could not slow down the Arachnea. Not only did the Swarm have no need for food, but they even used the flesh of corpses they found in the burned-down towns to create more resources. All Leopold had really done was provoke the ire of their queen.

“You’re saying my stratagems had no effect...?”

“As far as I can see, nothing has changed for the better.”

“Then we have no choice but to rely on the Popedom’s army,” Leopold said bitterly. He turned to one of the officers. “As of this moment, you have my approval to cross the border. Please begin your march.”

“It will take our army two weeks at the earliest. Is that acceptable?”

“What?” Leopold went white. “Why would it take you so long?! You must come to our rescue at once!”

“Our soldiers have been waiting at the border all this time, you know. It’ll take some time to break down their encampments and have supplies ready for the march. I’m afraid these are steps we have to take.”

There was some truth to the officer’s words. The Popedom’s army was fatigued from spending so long in the border camps, and it would need time to reorganize. All told, it would take the soldiers about a week to prepare.

That wasn’t the whole story, of course. The officers were also waiting for the Dukedom of Schtraut to crumble so they could swoop in and incorporate it into the Popedom.

“I told you placing that much trust in a foreign army was a mistake,” Roland said with a sigh.

“Ah, I’d nearly forgotten... Sir Roland, you are to be made a paladin,” said one of the other officers. “In light of your courageous spirit and your service to the people, His Holiness has decided to bestow this honor upon you. We hope you will continue to fight in a manner befitting of this title.”

“You want me to become a paladin so I can buy you more time?”

Frantz wanted the Dukedom weakened so it could take over, but the Popedom wasn’t looking to acquire a country that had been completely destroyed; it needed to be worth taking, at least. To that end, they elevated Roland to the rank of paladin in order to increase morale. Naturally, the move was made entirely for the sake of the Popedom itself.

“Fine. I accept.”

“Splendid. Take this, then. Normally His Holiness would give it to you himself, but current circumstances dictate that this task falls to me.”

The officer who’d spoken fixed a medal bearing the insignia of the Knights of Saint Agniya onto Roland’s chest.

“There’s nothing for me?” Leopold asked, disgruntled.

“Should we win this battle, you will also be awarded honors, Your Grace.”

“Assuming we live that long,” Roland said dryly. “They’re charging toward Doris at breakneck speed. I suggest your friends from Frantz leave this place, unless they’re also looking to be torn to shreds.”

The officers from Frantz eyed Roland with scorn, but they certainly weren’t interested in clashing with the enemy’s front lines.

“I’ll be riding out to meet their army with our finest soldiers. The cavalry, all of them. Any objections?” Roland asked his brother.

“Do whatever you want,” Leopold said, pouring his umpteenth glass.

“May victory be upon us,” Roland muttered. With that, he headed out to deliver his orders to the troops.

The Cavalry

That day’s battle was one none of us would ever forget.

“The enemy’s cavalry is on its way?” I asked.

“Yes, Your Majesty. A group of twenty-five thousand cavaliers. They seem intent on clashing with us here.”

“Hmm. So they’re trying to bring this fight to a head...”

For some reason, the Ripper Swarm’s report filled me with a sense of déjà vu.

Didn’t I see something like this before?

“Well, it’s all right. I’ll think of a countermeasure. Mobilize the Worker Swarms.”

“By your will, Your Majesty.”

I was confident I’d be able to handle the cavalry. The Arachnea didn’t have any mounted units, so an Arachnea player had to use her head if she wanted to take care of them. Now was the time to show off the strategies I’d been working on.

“Are you tracking the enemy’s movements?” I asked.

“We have Digger Swarms deployed around the perimeter, functioning as scouts. Based on their observations, we know the cavalry are traveling fast along the main thoroughfare and advancing on our position.”

Hmm. Charging headlong at us, huh?

A cavalier’s charge was menacing. I had no intention of underestimating them.

“Have my orders reached the Worker Swarms?”

“Yes, Your Majesty. The Worker Swarms have already begun working as per your specifications.”

I had given the Worker Swarms an order to produce something for me... Something that would surely change the course of the upcoming battle.

“Summon Sérignan and Lysa for me, please.”

“Understood, Your Majesty.”

Those two were my most treasured subordinates; they were crucial to securing our victory.

“You called for us, Your Majesty?”

“Reporting for duty!”

Five minutes later, Sérignan and Lysa showed up.

“Ah, there you are. Did you know we have an army of cavaliers advancing on our position?”

“Yes, I heard it through the collective consciousness,” Sérignan nodded.

“You two will be playing a key role in intercepting them. Your task is simple. Cavaliers are problematic because of their charge, which is both fast and powerful. Their speed bolsters the impact of their blows. But if we can take away their momentum, they’ll just be infantry on horseback.”

In the game, mounted units were quick and had a charging bonus, but if you were able to reduce their momentum, they were easy to defeat.

“The march so far has diminished our forces to a mere fifty thousand, but that should be more than enough to annihilate them. Let’s make a show of it, shall we?”

Many of the Ripper Swarms were exhausted. They hadn’t come out of our latest battles unscathed, and each fortress or city we’d occupied had caused us significant losses. Their numbers were decreasing faster than I would’ve liked.

To top it all off, I’d had to station Ripper Swarms in our newly occupied territories to defend them and maintain control. Some enemy soldiers might try to circumvent our main army and strike the areas we’d conquered, so leaving a garrison in those territories was absolutely necessary.

We were preparing to create new Swarms, of course, but we were also working on something else entirely. If I could amass large enough numbers, our new unit would soon overturn the war. I was looking forward to it.

“There are a few ways of slowing down a cavalier. On one hand, we could create some sort of obstacle; putting down obstructions horses can’t run or break through will force them to stop. On the other, we could meet their charge with a larger number of soldiers and whittle them down.”

The methods I had listed were pretty orthodox anti-cavalry tactics.

“I see. What path will we take, then, Your Majesty?” Sérignan asked.

“It’s simple,” I said with a smirk. “I’m going to have you two become obstacles. Big obstacles the enemy will never be able to power through.”

♱

“Gentlemen! It is time to destroy the invaders violating our land!”

Roland was in the middle of rallying the 25,000 cavaliers, his paladin’s medal gleaming on his chest.

“Make no mistake; our enemy is powerful. The nobles’ army tried to keep them at bay, but those soldiers were massacred by the enemy. We’re the only force capable of defending this country now. The Popedom of Frantz’s army isn’t coming fast enough. At this rate, Doris will fall and its citizens will be butchered. A terrible fate will befall your friends, family, and loved ones.”

In response, the cavaliers roared with anger.

“That’s right, brothers! We should be angry! Turn your rage into a weapon, and use it to cut down your foes! We are the mightiest warriors on the continent, unmatched in both skill and bravery! The sounds of our hoofbeats will rattle our enemies’ hearts! Our charge will send them scuttling away like the spiders they are!”

For all his zeal, Roland didn’t believe a word he was saying. He knew the strongest cavaliers on the continent were the Empire of Nyrnal’s Black Horse Knights, and he hadn’t heard anything to suggest the Arachnea were even capable of fear. They always stormed in like berserkers and fought until life abandoned them.

Regardless, he wove lie after lie into his speech in order to inspire his men.

“We will capture their leader, the infernal Queen of the Arachnea! Without their queen, the invaders will be nothing but monsters. While hunting monsters is normally an adventurer’s job, they’re all currently quivering under the teats of the Eastern Trade Union, so it’ll be ours instead.”

Roland’s words elicited a bit of laughter from the soldiers. Adventurers were by no means mercenaries. They had all quickly fled the Dukedom once it became clear it was about to become a battlefield. Now they were all hiding out in the Eastern Trade Union, which sat between the Empire of Nyrnal and the Popedom of Frantz. Here, the guild’s influence was strong.

Still, it was only natural that they would escape, since even innocent adventurers weren’t exempt from Leopold’s political purge. The queen of the Arachnea had seen this firsthand when she’d visited the ruins of Marine. These few adventurers who’d decided to flee had lost all love or loyalty for the Dukedom of Schtraut and had run for their lives.

“We will crush the enemy! Once we capture their leader, we will put an end to the invasion! We shall be victorious!”

“Yeaaahhh!” the 25,000 cavaliers cheered, clashing their weapons together.

“Our scouts say the Arachnea’s stronghold is located in the village beyond this narrow road. There’s no doubting the enemy lies in wait for us, but we are the Dukedom’s last hope. Keep that in mind!”

All that remained of Schtraut’s military forces was Doris’ defensive garrison and this group of cavaliers. But since Doris couldn’t afford to deploy the garrison, the only real offensive force was the cavalry. At this point, Roland wasn’t relying on Frantz’s reinforcements at all.

“Let’s go, gentlemen! Glory to the Dukedom of Schtraut!”

“Glory to the Dukedom of Schtraut!”

Thus, the cavalry set out to attack. They surged forward, avoiding or breaking through any obstacles in their way. Mobility was the cavalry’s forte, and Roland capitalized on it to deftly break through the Arachnea’s outer defenses and enter the rear gates. His cavaliers rushed into the heart of the village.

A few minutes later, they reached a narrow road situated between two steep cliffs.

“They should be at the end of this road!” Roland shouted.

“Sir! We’ve completed our reconnaissance,” said one cavalier, riding up to Roland.

“Good work. What’s the situation?”

“The enemy’s waiting for us, and they’re on high alert. There’s thirty thousand bugs up there, standing in a line formation. They’re completely blocking the path to their stronghold.”

“Thank you. Good work. Gentlemen! Prepare to charge! We are going to trample the enemy underfoot! Are you ready?!”

“Glory to the motherland!”

“Chaaaarge!”

The entire force of 25,000 cavaliers galloped down the road, with Roland leading the charge.

“Enemy sighted! Enemy sighted!”

True to the reports, the end of the road was crawling with giant insects.

“Forget it! Keep moving!” Roland shouted. He used his lance to run through the bugs at the center of the Arachnea’s army. The Ripper Swarms were pierced by weapons and crushed beneath the horse’s hooves as they, too, advanced forward.

“Aaaaah!”

But as Roland was riding ahead, he suddenly heard screams from both sides of the cavalry.

“What? Are those traps?! Where did they hide them?!”

As it turned out, there were anti-cavalry obstacles set up on either flank of the Swarms’ formation. Sharpened tree spikes poked out from the ground like porcupine quills. The horses were spooked by the objects and stopped in their tracks, which prompted the Ripper Swarms to lunge at the cavaliers and rip them to shreds.

Cavaliers riding behind the front lines ended up colliding with the ones who’d stopped. Their horses tripped over the spikes, only to topple over and get skewered. The spikes had been hidden well; Ripper Swarms had stood in front of them on either side in order to conceal them. The cavaliers had charged directly at the Swarms, taking the bait.

“Blast, they’ve hit both our flanks! But we can still break through the front!” Roland yelled, spurring his horse onward.

Roland’s path was littered with Ripper Swarm corpses, which his men trampled as they followed his lead. Though their left and right flanks had perished, the remaining soldiers gripped their lances and sabers with fervor.

“Just a little more, men! We’re almost through!”

The tail end of the Ripper Swarm army was in sight; they had nearly reached the Arachnea’s stronghold.

“This is as far as you go!”

Suddenly, a monster with the lower half of an insect and an upper half of a beautiful woman stood in his path.

“Out of the way!” Roland shouted.

“I refuse! Now, turn back or die!” Sérignan said, brandishing her black sword.

“If you won’t move, we’ll have to use force!” Roland thrust his lance forward.

“Try it, if you can! Soon you’ll be kneeling under the weight of your own helplessness!” Sérignan lunged at the paladin.

With a single swing of her sword, she sliced through Roland’s armor and into his abdomen. Blood gushed out from the wound as he slipped off his horse and onto the ground.

“Who’s next?!”

Sérignan wasn’t merely there to fight Roland, but also the many cavaliers accompanying him. Her corrupted holy sword flitted through the air, gracefully slashing this way and that. As she danced around her enemies, she reaped their lives one after another.

“Here I go!” Lysa, who had been standing behind Sérignan, began using her longbow to shoot down the remaining cavaliers.

Her victims tumbled to the ground with arrows in their heads, and then they were crushed by their own dying horses.

“Are we still trying to break through?!”

“It’s pointless! We have to fall back! Fall back!”

The remaining cavaliers had lost their fighting spirit and were now trying to escape, but it was far too late. The Ripper Swarms’ fangs and scythes shredded into the opposition, lacerating the horses and making mincemeat out of their riders.

“Retreeeat!”

“But what about Sir Roland?!”

A few cavaliers who’d been held back by the spikes began to flee.

“Who cares about him?! Our lives are more important right now!”

Before they could go anywhere, however, more Ripper Swarms swooped down from the cliffs. They ripped the cavaliers off their mounts and tore them to pieces.

“So this is where it ends...” Roland uttered, cradling his bleeding stomach.

“Oh, so it’s you who’s in charge of this whole affair,” said a voice from behind him.

It was the girl he’d met during the party, Grevillea.

“You... I met you in Marine...”

“That’s right. You gave me a hand back then.”

“No... Don’t tell me you’re the Arachnea’s queen...”

“Sorry, pal, but that’s precisely who I am,” she shrugged. The gesture was almost comical, considering the situation. “Sérignan, apply pressure to his wound. He has information we need, so we can’t let him die here.”

“By your will, Your Majesty.”

At Grevillea’s—the queen’s—order, Sérignan stopped Roland’s bleeding.

“Tell me, is Duke Sharon still alive?” Grevillea asked.

“Leopold killed him. Just like he killed everyone else who opposed him, so he’d be the only one with any power.”

“Do you think what your brother did was a mistake?”

“I do. He’s in the wrong here. He’s playing the role of a despot who believes in the Popedom, but in the end, they turned their backs on him. If only we hadn’t listened to him and impeached Caesar de Sharon, we’d be much better off now...”

Roland was suddenly assailed by a fit of coughing. Blood trickled out from the corner of his mouth.

“I hear venom in your words. Do you hate Leopold?”

“I do... I hate him,” Roland wheezed, his voice thick with loathing. “Leopold reduced the Dukedom to ashes, and he’ll probably flee so he doesn’t have to face the consequences. How could I not hate him for this?! I love this country! I wanted to see it flourish! But Leopold ruined everything! No one can put this shattered nation back together anymore!” His shoulders drooped.

“How would you feel if I told you there is still a way for you to fight for Schtraut?” asked the queen.

“Fight? With these wounds? That’s impossible.”

“Where there’s a will, there’s a way. A way for you to take revenge on your brother for what he did to your country.” Grevillea’s lips curled into a devious smile.

The Monster Called the Sea

Every single one of the 25,000 cavaliers who had accompanied Roland de Lorraine had been slaughtered.

This news shocked Leopold to the core. He’d been confident the cavalry would turn the tide of this war in their favor. Even if they’d merely served as throwaway pawns, he’d at least expected them to push back the invasion and buy time for Frantz’s reinforcements. However, they hadn’t even managed to do that; Leopold’s scouts had just reported that the monsters’ army was still advancing toward Doris.

“Your Grace! What are we to do?!”

“Will our garrison be able to hold them off?!”

Urgh... My head hurts, Leopold thought. But this isn’t the alcohol. Must be stress...

“Shut up! Let the generals handle this!” he screeched, slamming his fist on the table.

“How irresponsible!”

“There’s no way they’ll hold the line until Frantz’s reinforcements arrive...”

The surviving congressmen were unanimously opposed to his attitude.

“Shut up! Shut up! Get out of here this instant, or I’ll have you all hanged!” Leopold roared.

After that, the men were forced out of his residence.

“Blast! Blast it all! Why won’t anything go my way?! Where did I go wrong?!”

Leopold’s life up to this point was little more than a string of failures. He’d failed to run the family business and was forced to depend on his younger brother. As soon as Roland had taken over, everything had suddenly improved, and everyone had seen him as the rightful owner of the business... Despite the fact that Leopold was the rightful, legal heir.

His married life hadn’t gone smoothly, either. No sooner had he become a husband than he began chasing after other women, provoking the fury of his new wife and her family. While he had been able to silence them with money, he had been forced to divorce his wife. Soon enough, his relationships with his mistresses had soured as well.

And now this.

He’d somehow been able to drive his nemesis out of office and take over Caesar’s position. He had even hanged the man. But then the monsters had started flooding in from the west and trampling his cities, and now they were creeping ever closer to Doris.

His last ray of hope had been the Popedom of Frantz, but they’d effectively abandoned the Dukedom and left it to its fate. Not a single one of Frantz’s troops had yet crossed the border; their last report had said only that they were preparing to set out.

Nothing ever went right for Leopold. All of his endeavors had ended in failure.

“Dammit! Why?! Why does nothing I do ever work out?! I know I’m talented! I’m a skilled businessman, politician, and noble! So why, why, why does the world conspire to ruin me?!”

Leopold would not admit his mistakes. He believed that he was always right and that everyone else was wrong. His failure to run the business wasn’t his fault; it was Roland’s for trying to steal it away. His marriage failed not because of his adultery, but because his wife was prejudiced and prude.

Naturally, he attributed his failure in this war to multiple factors: the Dukedom’s generals were incompetent, the soldiers were poorly trained, the officers had chosen the wrong strategy, the Popedom of Frantz had not sent their reinforcements as promised...

But no matter how much he shifted the blame, the Dukedom of Schtraut was still on the verge of collapse, and the enemy was still approaching. Leopold had instructed his generals to gather any remaining troops in the capital, but he’d given them no additional orders. Truthfully, he didn’t know what else could be done.

Hands shaking, he took a swig of brandy.

“Your Grace.”

“Hm? Oh, erm, hello, Sebastian.” Leopold regarded the figure that approached him with a start. “Have the Popedom’s reinforcements finally arrived?”

The one who approached him was a military marshal by the name of Sebastian de Silhouette.

“Apologies, Your Grace... They have not.”

“Dammit! Curse those Frantzian dogs!”

Sebastian was an experienced soldier who’d served the Dukedom for many years. Leopold had left Doris’ defense strategy entirely up to him, making him the highest-ranked commanding officer when it came to defending the capital.

“How many men are they sending?” asked Sebastian.

“I don’t know. The damn charlatans wouldn’t specify. I trusted them, and they betrayed us.”

“Then we have no choice but to defend the city and force the enemy into a siege. Thankfully, since Doris is coastal, we can have supplies ferried to us at any time. We could hold this position indefinitely.”

“But those monsters leveled the other cities so quickly. Do you really think we’ll be able to keep them at bay?”

“It’s possible, Your Grace. Thanks to Doris’ topography.”

“Hm...?”

Being a coastal city, Doris had a large port and shipyard, and it served as an economic hub.

“Doris is essentially an island. Its only connection to the rest of the continent is the great Poitier Bridge. If we destroy the bridge, the monsters shouldn’t be able to enter the city.”

“Yes... Yes, that’s right! It doesn’t matter how many monsters are out there; they can’t cross rivers or seas. If they could, they’d have attacked Nyrnal by now. The fact that they haven’t means we can protect Doris!”

Poitier Bridge was usually full of peddlers and trader caravans, but it was closed off and devoid of pedestrians during wartime.

“But won’t knocking out the bridge be difficult? Not even our mages would be able to destroy it completely.”

“It would take time, yes, but it would make it much harder for the enemy to invade. If we don’t, I have no doubt the enemy will try to cross.”

This bridge was an extremely durable structure; no known explosives could put so much as a crack in it. Leopold found it hard to believe that their mages would be able to do much damage. Still, the enemy had to cross the bridge to reach them. It was the only way to enter Doris on land.

“If we gather our forces on the bridge, we can keep the monsters at bay with ballista fire and magic attacks while holding the gates closed. In doing so, we’ll be able to hold the line. As large as the bridge may be, it does restrict how many monsters can cross at any given time.”

Poitier Bridge was the width of five Ripper Swarms. The marshal saw this as a chance to force the Swarms into a bottleneck, then rain attacks down upon them—and the bridge itself—before they could reach the city walls.

“I see! That’s a splendid idea!” Leopold exclaimed, believing this was the path to victory. “Position our army on the bridge and have them hit the enemy with everything they’ve got! Put some ballistas atop the bridge as well!”

“One moment, Your Grace. We must account for every possible contingency. Gathering all of our troops on the bridge would be dangerous; we should leave at least a few men inside the city.”

“Sebastian, how else could they enter the city? Do you think those monsters can walk on water? Or that they have ships? Impossible. Their only way of entering Doris is crossing that bridge. Now, hop to it, if you would. I’ll send some scouts later on to confirm we’ve got everyone gathered on Poitier Bridge.”

“As you wish, Your Grace.”

Leopold was already beginning to act as if this operation had been his idea. He had all but convinced himself that he was a savior capable of delivering Doris from this crisis.

Sebastian, on the other hand, was dismayed, as his only strategy—and the city itself—was now in jeopardy. After a bow in the duke’s direction, he left to gather the soldiers.

“Yes. Yes. I can win this... and I will. This time, I’ll succeed!” Leopold popped open a new bottle of expensive brandy to celebrate his impending victory, filling his glass to the brim.

♱

“So that’s what Doris looks like,” I mused.

I already knew of it from the Swarms’ reports, but now I could see firsthand that Doris was like a fortress floating over the sea. Seizing it would be no easy task. Simply rushing over their bridge and through their front gates would result in a...very warm welcome. It would no doubt strike a painful blow to my forces, and our assault would end in failure.

Still, there was no other way to enter the capital. The bridge was the only route connecting Doris to the rest of the continent. In all other directions, the city was surrounded by nothing but open sea.

“What should we do, Sérignan?” I asked.

“My apologies, Your Majesty, but I can’t say. If only we could use ships, we’d be able to sail into the city. But the Swarm can’t operate a ship, nor is it possible for me. It seems like forcing our way across the bridge is our only way in, does it not?”

Right, the Swarm couldn’t use ships. They had no way of crossing rivers or seas. In the game, the settings made this weakness pretty irrelevant. Reality, unfortunately, wasn’t so kind to us.

“So, your conundrum is your inability to operate ships, then?” came a young man’s voice from beside us.

“That’s right, Roland. Ships would allow us to conquer that island with minimal losses. That’s nothing but a dream for us, though.”

I was speaking to Roland—the new Roland, whom I’d made into a Swarm. He was now the Knight Swarm Roland, as I had christened him. Just like Lysa, he had the lower half of an insect and a tail that hid a venomous stinger. His main difference from Lysa, however, was that he also had another pair of insectile legs growing from his sides. These legs had giant claws, and they were as flexible as human arms.

“Why not hire sailors to operate the ships for you?” Roland proposed.

“Sadly, all the cities along the coastline were destroyed by that stupid noble’s army. There’s no one left alive for us to hire.”

“Then perhaps I can give it a try.”

“What?” I gaped at him. “You know how to commandeer a ship?”

“I’ve dabbled in it. I had to sail a few times while helping Leopold with our family’s business, so I’m no stranger to seafaring. I should be able to handle one well enough, assuming a storm doesn’t break out.”

Well, didn’t I just hit the jackpot?

On top of being a skilled knight with a fair spirit, Roland could even sail a ship.

How versatile. I could stand to learn a thing or two from him.

“Roland, I want you to try operating a ship so that knowledge will circulate through the collective consciousness. That way, the rest of the Swarm will learn how to do it, too.”

“By your will, Your Majesty. We’ll gather ships from the coastal towns and have a force of Swarms prepare to attack Doris.” With that, Roland mounted his horse and took off.

“Can we really trust him, Your Majesty?” Sérignan asked, watching him suspiciously.

“Sure we can. He won’t betray us. Can’t you tell how intense his hatred is through the collective consciousness? I can. He wants to settle the score with his idiotic brother. He won’t stop until Leopold’s dead and the Popedom of Frantz lies in ruins.”

“I can feel his hatred, yes, but...”

The emotions emitting from Roland were all negative: hatred, betrayal, and seething rage. He loathed Leopold and the Popedom for driving his country to ruin. We had these two enemies in common now, so I believed we could trust him to help us.

“Sérignan, he can’t lie to us. We’re all brothers and sisters connected by the same great consciousness. I trust Roland the same way I trust you.”

“The same way you trust me...? Hmph. Between Roland and myself, who is more trustworthy?” Sérignan asked, a hint of jealousy in her voice.

“Well, of course that’d be you,” I replied, cracking a small smile. “You’ve been protecting me since the very beginning. You’re my dearest knight, and I trust you more than anyone.”

“Oh, Your Majesty, I... I’m very grateful!”

“Oh, here come the waterworks. C’mon, knights shouldn’t bawl at the drop of a hat.”

To me, the Swarm were like my adorable children. This included all the Ripper Swarms that had fought for me so far, the Worker Swarms that toiled every day to craft things for our army, the Digger Swarms that awaited my orders underground, the Masquerade Swarms working undercover, and Lysa, our resident elf-turned-Swarm...

Naturally, this meant Sérignan, too. She was my most precious, irreplaceable knight.

“All right, let’s map out our operation,” I said. “Just popping up with a bunch of ships is really lacking in finesse.”

It was time to bring down Schtraut’s capital.

♱

At Poitier Bridge just outside Doris, everything was eerily quiet. It was early morning, and the sun had not yet risen. No birds chirped to fill the air, so the only sound that could be heard was the rolling waves crashing against the cliffs.

“The enemy is coming, right?” asked one of the soldiers garrisoned at the gate.

“They’re bound to,” answered another. “This is the capital; it’s the one place they won’t overlook. They’ll definitely attack us, and we’ve got to stop them. It’s all up to us now.”

There was no telling when the Arachnea might attack. There were bonfires lit over the bridge, providing meager light that licked the city walls. The soldiers could only see parts of the bridge itself, and everything else was covered in a veil of darkness.

Suddenly, a disturbing metallic clacking sound reached the soldiers’ ears.

“What was that?”

“I’ll go check.”

One of the noncommissioned officers used a pair of binoculars to get a better look. It was then that he saw it: a massive army of insects. They were charging Poitier Bridge in massive numbers, heading straight toward the gates.

“Enemy sighted! Get ready to intercept them!”

From the gate, they could see a massive army of Ripper Swarms storming the bridge like a great black wave. The sight was so terrifying, it could drive a man mad.

“Prepare the ballistas!”

“Shoot them with crossbows!”

The soldiers rained down bolts upon the incoming Ripper Swarms. Normal bows simply lacked the penetrating power to be useful; the ballistas and crossbows, on the other hand, could exert much more force. The bolts easily punctured the Swarms’ exoskeletons.

“Mages, cast your spells! Drown them in fire!”

As commanded, the mages moved in. They unleashed both simple, silent spells and advanced spells that required chanting to complete, showering the bridge in fireballs. The simpler spells only combusted upon impact, but the advanced spells weren’t so simple; their fire was adhesive, clinging to the target as if it were covered in flammable liquid that burned indefinitely.

The Ripper Swarms were falling to the flames one by one. Their allies stepped unflinchingly over their bodies as the flames continued to spread. Seeing that the Ripper Swarms were unafraid of fire caused some of the mages to panic.

“Don’t let up the attacks! They’re planning to overwhelm us with their numbers! Stop them no matter what!” This order came from one of Schtraut’s military commanders, who was in charge of the group.

Without warning, an explosion rang out from within the city walls. The makeshift fence they had set up along the gates’ second defensive line was blown apart, and the nearby soldiers had been flung to the ground. Some of them had been mangled beyond recognition by the mysterious blast, while others were still writhing painfully on the ground, begging for help.

“What just happened?!” the commander shouted.

“I don’t know, sir! We’re still trying to grasp the situation!” cried one of his men.

The cause of their panic soon became evident. Apparently, a suspicious civilian had run up to the fence and exploded on contact. Any soldiers caught in the blast had been blown several meters away. The shockwaves ruptured their internal organs, and the ones who were still alive were now coughing up blood.

“There are saboteurs in the city?!”

“What do we do, sir?!”

That simply wasn’t possible. Only advanced magic could produce such a powerful blast. It was unthinkable that someone who could silently cast a spell of that caliber would be used as cannon fodder.

“Aim your crossbows at the walls! Keep an eye out for enemy saboteurs!”

Even as the commander barked these orders, a group of people emerged from the city and walked right through the ruined fence. The moment the crossbows were about to fire, the strangers’ heads split open, revealing a pair of sharp fangs. Insectile legs burst out from their backs and their own legs morphed into tails tipped with stingers. The five monsters rushed up the walls with frightening speed.

“Wh-What the...?! What are they?! Oh God, they’re insects! Those monsters can disguise themselves as humans?!”

Confusion and terror scrambled the minds of the soldiers, and their weapons continually missed their marks. Meanwhile, the insects had moved past the fence and were beginning to self-destruct against the walls. The ramparts shook, nearly knocking the commander and his men onto the ground. Doris’ sturdy metal gates were heavily damaged by the impact, nearly coming off their hinges.

“The inner gates!” one soldier cried out as the gates fell apart.

“Calm down, we still have the outer gates!” replied the commander.

Doris had two sets of gates for its protection. The first set of gates was made of wood and located outside the city. The inner gates were made of sturdy metal... and were now completely destroyed. That only left the wooden gates. Would they be able to hold back an army of Ripper Swarms?

“Stay alert for enemies within the walls as you repel the attack on the bridge! The enemy is trying to gain momentum! If we don’t defend the walls, Doris is finished! If the city falls, I don’t need to tell you what’ll happen to your families and loved ones!”

At that very moment, however...

“Sir!” An unfamiliar soldier approached the commander.

“What is it? Get to your position already—”

Before he could finish, the soldier exploded.

The commander, who was standing only a meter away from the soldier, was blown to bits. The terrified screams of nearby soldiers caught in the blast filled the air.

“Dammit! Their saboteurs are even mixed in with our soldiers!” cursed one of the officers. “Hey, if any of you detect any soldiers you don’t recognize, report them immediately! They could be enemy spies!”

As the battle raged on, chaos quickly overwhelmed the men atop the walls. Leopold had ordered for a large—even excessive—number of them to be stationed there, and so the bulk of Doris’ army was struggling to maintain order.

“Fight on in the name of the Dukedom! Stop those monsters!” The officer who’d spoken up just before took on the role of the dead commander.

“Yeeeaaah!” The soldiers met his words of encouragement with a war cry.

Incidentally, the Ripper Swarms’ rush was slowing down—no, it was coming to a halt entirely. They had pushed beyond the charred remains of their comrades to close in on the gates, but the crossbow and ballista fire had forced them to evade, then finally retreat.

“Ahaha! The monsters are fleeing! Serves you right, cockroaches!”

“Victory is ours!”

The soldiers at the gates rejoiced at the sight of the Ripper Swarms falling back.

“Did we win...?” the officer wondered aloud.

After trampling countless cities across the Dukedom, the Ripper Swarms were retreating for the very first time. The officer found it hard to believe as he watched the monsters scurry away. Had they truly won? Yes, that had to be it. The enemy had accepted defeat. The gates had taken a lot of damage, but in the end, they had held fast in the face of the invasion.

“We did it! We won!”

“Yeaaah! Victory is ours!”

The soldiers cheered, throwing away their helmets and lifting up their crossbows. They were overjoyed, as they believed that they had at last vanquished the insectile scourge.

Their blissful celebration, however, did not even last five minutes.

“Where’s your commander?! I need him right this instant!” Sebastian de Silhouette bellowed from atop the walls.

“He died in the line of duty, sir. I’m currently the one in charge,” the officer answered.

“Hmm, right,” Sebastian nodded. “Then prepare to move into the city at once! We must hurry!”

“What do you mean, sir? Is there a riot?”

“A riot? You really don’t understand, do you?” Sebastian sighed. “I suppose I can’t blame you, since you were fighting on the front lines until now. Listen up: this was a diversion. That wasn’t the enemy’s main force, and that’s why you were able to push them back. The enemy’s army invaded us from the sea, and they currently have control of the city center. They’re heading this way right now. We need to intercept them, hence the urgency. They’re smarter than we ever could’ve imagined. Anything could happen from this point on.”

“From the sea? That’s absurd. How were they able to cross??”

Before he could hear the answer, screaming broke out in the distance.

“The real fight is about to begin. Leave a small detachment here and move out. Now!”

“Y-Yes, sir!”

The screaming was gradually becoming louder as the officer hurriedly gathered his subordinates. They armed themselves with melee weapons and got off the ramparts, forming a line as they made their way into the streets.

“That’s why I told him to leave a platoon in the city,” Sebastian whispered as he watched black smoke rise in the distance.

The Arachnea had completed its landing and was now beginning its rampage. The battle had turned on its head, and now the soldiers were plummeting toward defeat.

♱

Less than thirty minutes until sunrise, we boarded a wooden ship to make our way to Doris. Roland said he’d picked the finest ship for us, but honestly, it was a pretty rough ride. I was so seasick I thought I might die, and Lysa was pretty pale, too. Roland and Sérignan were the only ones that looked fine.

Well, the Swarms did too, of course. I loved my babies to pieces, but they had no way of understanding how much I was suffering.

“We’ll be there soon,” Roland told me.

“Okay. Urgh... I can’t wait to get back on solid ground,” I replied wearily.

I had ridden ferries before, but this was, without a doubt, the worst cruise I had ever taken. It swayed, squeaked, shuddered, and shook. It was as though everything about this ship was designed to kill its passengers. I felt like it might capsize at any moment, and I wanted nothing more than to get back to the sweet embrace of solid ground ASAP.

“Roland, how soon is ‘soon’?”

“Hmm, I’d say about thirty minutes.”

To distract myself, I accessed the collective consciousness and confirmed the situation of the battle on the walls. The Swarms endured severe damage as they stormed Poitier Bridge. They were assailed by bolts and fire, and the gates seemed to loom ever farther away, but still they charged onward.

I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for using you like disposable pawns in this operation. But this is necessary for our victory. Forgive me. In exchange, I’ll make sure we win.

I mourned the Ripper and Masquerade Swarms that were being sacrificed in this battle, but I steeled my resolve in the name of victory. My nausea died down a bit, and the churning feeling was replaced with a strong desire to succeed.

I have to win no matter what. I’ve sacrificed too much already. Losing anything more isn’t an option.

I still had hundreds of thousands of Swarms under my command, but even still, I cared for each and every Ripper Swarm. I couldn’t let them die in vain.

“Your Majesty, the enemy is gathering its forces to defend the walls,” Sérignan reported.

“Yeah. The Ripper and Masquerade Swarms gave their lives to give us this opening. We can’t let it go to waste.”

“We absolutely won’t. Our brethren made great contributions to ensure our victory.”

“They sure did. Whatever it takes, we’re going to win this.”

Sérignan and I were filled with the determination to end this war.

“We’ll be reaching land soon, Your Majesty!” Roland called out. “When we do, it’s going to be a little rough!”

“I’m used to it by now! It can jostle me around as much as it needs to!” I shouted back.

In the moonlight, we caught sight of all the ships sailing alongside our vessel. They were all wooden ships we’d gathered from Schtraut’s harbors. Some of them were so old that they looked like they might sink at any moment, while others were newer but smaller in size.

All of these ships were full of Ripper Swarms.

“Soldiers tend to be weak after sailing, so I hope the Ripper Swarms at the gate do a good job distracting the bulk of their forces.”

Landing operations were risky. We’d be sitting ducks if the enemy were to take up positions at our landing point; they’d wipe us out before we knew it. They could also just hit our ships with magic from afar and send us to a watery grave. Still, we had to take a leap of faith if we wanted to win.

“Five minutes to land!”

At Roland’s shout, the other ships accelerated, making a beeline for Doris’ shores.

“The Ripper Swarms are surprisingly good sailors,” Roland said, visibly impressed.

“They move as part of a collective consciousness,” I explained. “When one of them learns something, the others learn it as well. If each of them were to learn one piece of information, they would all gain that information at once. They’re a much smarter, more efficient form of life than humans.”

Yes, the Swarms were extraordinarily fast learners. One of them could learn biology and the rest would gain that knowledge immediately, despite never opening a biology book. If I asked a handful of them to study biology, physics, chemistry, math, and music, the entirety of the Swarm would absorb all those topics at once. That was the strength of the collective consciousness.

In the game, this mechanic only really extended to the Swarms gaining experience without taking part in a battle. When applied to a more realistic setting, however, this ability showed a startling range of applications. The Swarm could very well be the smartest, most efficient life form in this world.

“Landing in just a few seconds! Brace for impact!”

Our ships blitzed through the sea and rammed onto the shore.

“The enemy hasn’t noticed us yet! Begin the operation!” I called out.

On my order, the Swarms flowed out of their ships and hopped onto the wharf, beginning their charge into the city. One group broke off to storm the lighthouse and the docked warships to exterminate the soldiers inside.

“Your Majesty, we’ve landed successfully!” Sérignan reported.

“Yeah. I couldn’t have asked for anything more. Good work, everyone.”

My bugs were currently running through Doris’ streets, the first warm rays of sunlight reflecting off their claws. After our successful landing, victory was close at hand. Now that our enemies had been pushed to the edge, sending them flying down into the abyss of despair would be easy. We would light fires of panic and fear into their hearts and rightfully enact our vengeance for all that had happened.

“Sérignan, Lysa, and Roland—make way for the Duke’s residence. It should be at the highest point of this island. I’m sure you’ll find it soon enough.”

“I’ll lead the way,” Roland said with a nod.

“All right, Roland. Let’s go.”

The Swarms had two objectives upon landing on Doris. The first was overtaking the duke’s residence; we had to take out Leopold if we were to win this war. Plus, I had a whole laundry list of grudges to settle with him. Letting him die easily wasn’t an option.

Secondly, we needed to take out the second gate. Opening it from the inside would allow the Swarms outside the walls to regroup with us. Once the gates were open, the enemy would be rendered helpless. They could pray as much as they wanted, but the Swarm would overrun them just the same.

I left the second gate to the Ripper Swarms, and set out with my squad to raid the duke’s residence. I felt bad for the people of Marine. They had treated me so well, only to become casualties of this war.

But I’ll be taking revenge for you now.

I wanted to bring unimaginable pain upon Leopold and have his head stuck on a pike at the city gates. Resolved to make him suffer, I hopped onto a Ripper Swarm’s back and followed Sérignan, Lysa, and Roland to find Leopold.

♱

“What’s going, Sebastian?! Didn’t we push back the enemy assault at the gates?!” Leopold snarled.

The duke had just received a report that his soldiers at Poitier Bridge had crushed the enemy’s charge, so he had been confident that they’d won the war. However, he had just heard that a large army of Swarms had seized Doris and killed their troops, and that it was marching on the gates from within the city itself.

“It seems the enemy has staged a landing operation. We didn’t anticipate they’d be able to use ships... Apparently, they’re more than just monsters.”

“Are you kidding me?! Stage a counterattack and retake the city at once! I thought you planned for every contingency, you incompetent buffoon!” Leopold’s shout echoed through the manor. Around them, the windows flickered with distant fires from the burning city.

“You call me incompetent? I was against stationing all our forces at the gates. I told you we should leave a reserve force behind. You are the one who rejected my proposal, Duke Lorraine. The responsibility for this falls on you!”

Indeed, Sebastian had been opposed to sending all of their soldiers to Poitier Bridge. He’d assumed the chances of a surprise attack were slim, but he had suggested they leave a force behind just in case. Leopold was the one to refuse his counsel.

“You imbecile! What right do you have to speak back to your leader?!” Leopold bellowed, spittle flying from the corners of his mouth. “I’m the Duke of Schtraut! You dare criticize me?! The responsibility for this falls on you, sir!”

“The very fact you were ever appointed Duke was a mistake. If you hadn’t impeached Duke Sharon, none of this would have happened. Your blind belief in Frantz’s double-dealing ways makes you the worst possible leader.”

“Dismissed! You’re dismissed from your post! I’ll have you stripped of every rank and medal you’ve ever gotten! You’ll regret insulting me when you rot in the dungeon for the rest of your life!”

“I don’t think you quite understand the situation, Duke Lorraine. Doris will fall within mere hours. Considering what happened to the other cities, the only thing waiting for both of us is death. Dismiss me now if it makes you feel any better; I can certainly say your threats don’t make me feel any worse.”

Yes, the city of Doris was on the verge of collapse. A militia was being rapidly organized in the city streets to try to stop the Swarms’ advance, but they had no armor and were equipped with feeble weapons. They would be easy pickings for the Ripper Swarms.

The Swarms were gaining control of the city at a steady pace. As soon as my seafaring Swarms had left their ships and moved to ransack the city, the Swarms outside had doubled back down on the outer gates, which were now nearly destroyed. The soldiers on the walls had been torn apart, and the mages’ heads had been ripped off before they could resume firing their spells.

The capital of Schtraut was fated to fall. It was only a matter of an hour or two.

“There has to be some way to win... Some way to survive this. An idea that a lunkheaded soldier like yourself didn’t have the brainpower to come up with. Come on, Leopold, think! It wouldn’t make sense otherwise... I always succeed in the end, after all.”

Leopold took another swig of brandy and started pacing around his room like a restless tiger.

“Give it up. We have no more cards to play. If only you had acted more prudently, things might have ended in our favor.”

“Shut up! I did not lose! I will win and survive this! Go off and die for all I care!”

All of this could have been avoided. If only he hadn’t used the nobles’ army as sacrificial pawns, or if only he’d had the diplomatic sense to see through the Popedom’s intentions... Or if he had simply chosen a course of action that wouldn’t have provoked the Arachnea.

It was one “what if” after another. But the past had no place for possibilities, only facts. There was no going back in time to take back one’s mistakes; one had no choice but to accept reality as it was.

“Your Grace! The enemy! They’re headed this way!”

The voice alerting Leopold of his imposing doom had arrived, all too soon and all too mercilessly.

End of the Usurper

We stood before the entrance to the duke’s residence.

“Guards! Guaaards! Assume your positions!”

A company of soldiers was stationed around the entrance. They were armed with crossbows, which they quickly pointed toward us. Evidently, they had learned that they needed to use crossbows at minimum to do any damage to the Swarm. Indeed, a crossbow bolt could badly injure Sérignan.

Assuming it hits, that is.

“Fire!” an officer shouted, and the guards all let off their crossbows at once. Their sights were fixed on Roland and Sérignan, who made up the front line of our little force.

“Haaah!”

The two of them knocked away the crossbow bolts with quick swipes of their swords.

“Lysa, keep them pinned down!”

“Roger that, Your Majesty!”

Lysa pulled back the taut string of her longbow and began firing one arrow after another. Her arrows pierced the guards’ throats, and they crumpled to the ground, clawing desperately at their necks as their screams refused to come out. Lysa kept up her attacks, shooting down as many men as possible.

A crossbow and a longbow were extremely different when it came to reload time. Crossbows had powerful force to their shots, but they took time to reload. Longbows were weaker, but they had a much faster rate of fire. Now that she was a Swarm, Lysa wielded a huge bow that gave her monstrous strength a wide range. Even if you didn’t consider her new Swarm status, however, Lysa was a far speedier shot than any of the guards.

“Well done, Lysa! We shall handle the rest!” Sérignan called out, a savage smile on her lips.

She leapt toward the guards, her black blade swinging through the air. The remaining guards desperately tried to reload their crossbows, but they simply didn’t have enough time.

“Aaaaah!”

Sérignan’s battle cry reverberated through the air as she split a guard’s head in two. The guard wobbled to the floor, his body spasming as the crossbow slipped from his hands and clattered on the ground.

“It’s not over yet!”

After a graceful landing, Sérignan spun where she stood, jabbing her stinger into the fray. Then she lopped off another guard’s head.

“Damn you!”

At that moment, another guard finished reloading his own crossbow and cocked it at Sérignan. He was too close for her to evade or cut down the projectile.

“I’ll cover for you!” Roland cried, jumping to her defense.

I let out a sigh of relief. Roland sliced off the guard’s hand, then used the momentum of this slash to cut off the guard’s head. Blood flew through the air, dyeing Roland’s black carapace a dark, metallic red.

“Nice job, Roland. Let’s keep moving.”

Sadly, I couldn’t contribute much with my significantly below-average stats. And so, while Sérignan, Roland, and Lysa handled the screaming guards, I turned my consciousness toward the battle going on at the city gates.

We had already succeeded; the outer gates were open. Hundreds upon thousands of Swarms were rushing through them, flooding the city of Doris. The remaining mages desperately fired off spells, trying to blow the Swarms away along with the gates if they had to. But at this point, their magic wouldn’t stop the flood.

The army of Swarms entered the city streets. Men who had run away from the gates and the militia had barricaded themselves inside civilians’ homes, using furniture to block off the doors. They made a desperate attempt to resist, shooting crossbows and casting spells through the windows.

“Crush them,” I ordered.

My Swarms, faithful creatures that they were, executed my order unflinchingly. The Digger Swarms we’d brought over on the ships burrowed beneath the houses and broke through the floors, devouring everyone inside. Meanwhile, the Ripper Swarms that had passed through the gates broke through the barricaded entrances and set about killing anyone they encountered.

No one could stop these creatures. The militia was pathetically armed with scythes and hoes, which did nothing to suppress my giant insects. These farmers’ tools bounced off their exoskeletons without doing any damage, leaving the militia exposed to attack.

The guards failed to reload their crossbows in time, so they only managed to take out a Swarm or two before they were devoured. Even if the Ripper Swarms were hit by a crossbow bolt, they could still charge onward so long as they hadn’t been hit in the vitals. It took three crossbow shots or a blow from a claymore or halberd to permanently down a Ripper Swarm.

But these humans couldn’t be expected to act calmly in the heat of the battle. Dizzy with fear, the guards fired their crossbows in all directions, and they lacked any larger weapons.

It was pitiful, really. Leopold’s incompetence as a leader had driven them to this point. I almost had to be grateful for how awful he was; if he’d have anticipated the possibility of our landing on the island and set aside men to deal with us, we might have been the ones tasting defeat.

All hail Leopold, huh? Thanks to this useless duke, Doris is now ours.

“Your Majesty, we’ve suppressed the guards.”

Oh, whoops.

While I had been occupied with the fighting at the gates and within the city, the duke’s security had been totally wiped out. It happened all too quickly. The other two weren’t hero units like Sérignan, but they were still immensely useful. That was a given, of course. The only member of the Arachnea who wasn’t talented and skilled was me.

“You’re a skilled individual, Your Majesty. If you weren’t, we would not have won this battle.”

“I appreciate the compliment, Sérignan.”

My stats are still as significantly below-average as they were before, though. My intelligence and leadership skills are apparently extremely high, but who’s to say how trustworthy that appraisal really was.

“If we’re done handling the guards, let’s go meet the duke. We’ve got so much catching up to do with our good friend Leopold,” I said, leading the others into the manor.

♱

Once we were inside, we looked around for additional guards, but there were none in sight. Evidently, they were all dead. It was honestly a little anticlimactic. When we took down the Kingdom of Maluk, they had at least used that weird jewel of theirs to try to put up a fight. Here, on the other hand, we were only met with silence.

“No angels or monsters hiding around the corner, are there?” I wondered aloud.

“The Dukedom of Schtraut doesn’t have any knight orders capable of summoning angels,” Roland answered. “And it doesn’t have anything like the Jewel of Evolution the Kingdom of Maluk possessed. I think their resistance is at an end.”

“Right. Well, I hope he doesn’t try anything else. I’m not one to look for complications when there’s no need for it; I’m not masochistic like that. I’ll take my easy wins when I can get them.”

I’d had enough of angels and monsters. Seeing those things crawl out of the woodwork was bad for my nerves. I was all for more human methods of fighting. I’d take battles using primitive weapons over supernatural phenomena like angels every day of the week.

“Let’s look for the duke, then. He and I need to have a little chat.”

With that, we began searching for him.

Come out, come out, wherever you are... I have enough bones to pick with you to build a skeletal model or two...

“Ripper Swarm, can you pick up on his scent?”

“It is possible, Your Majesty.”

“Great. Aren’t you a good boy? Handle it for me, okay?”

My reliable hound would sniff out this cowardly bird who seemed to want to just fly away.

Now, let’s have Duke Lorraine come out and greet us, shall we?

“Lysa, can you keep an eye on the entrance? I wouldn’t want to be surprised by any reinforcements. Use the collective consciousness to call over Ripper Swarms from the streets if you have to.”

“Leave it to me, Your Majesty. I’ll be on the lookout.”

Thankfully, there was only one road that led to this building. So long as we kept an eye on that, the enemy shouldn’t be able to reach us. They could decide to take an unpaved road instead to avoid detection, but I doubted any one of them could think that far ahead in this chaos. The soldiers were scattered around town, and their chain of command had long since fallen apart. They were at the Ripper Swarms’ mercy... which didn’t exist, of course. I didn’t anticipate any tricky moves.

Truth be told, the only reason I really left Lysa to watch over the entrance was because I didn’t want a young girl like her to see what was about to happen. What we had in store was a touch too radical.

“There is someone ahead,” the Ripper Swarm said.

“Good. Sérignan, open the door.”

“By your will, Your Majesty.” She kicked the door open, then entered the room, her sword held high.

“There you are, Arachnea.”

Sitting there wasn’t Leopold, but an aging man. He was clad in a Schtraut military uniform, and its decorations informed me that he was a marshal. His expression was heavy with the sort of resignation I had seen countless times before in our conquests.

“Yes, here we are,” I said. “We’ve got an appointment with one Duke Lorraine. Would you happen to know where we might find him?”

“I believe he took some soldiers with him and barricaded himself in the wine cellar. Tell me, miss queen of the Arachnea: why did you destroy the Kingdom of Maluk? That was the real catalyst for these events, after all. If you hadn’t done that, things would never have come to this. Where did you come from, and why did you do such a thing?”

“To answer one of your questions, we came from another world. A place that’s far unlike this world of yours. I don’t believe I have to tell you where our base is and where our journey began.”

“You’re right. But... another world, you say? Who could have imagined there was a world where monsters like you reign supreme...”

I was somewhat thankful that he didn’t ask me why we had come to this world. I didn’t know why I’d been brought here, either.

“As for why we destroyed the Kingdom of Maluk, it’s because they provoked our wrath. Besides that, the Arachnea has a guiding instinct, a never-ending hunger to invade and conquer. We kill, we eat, and we pillage. It runs in our blood.”

“The never-ending hunger to conquer, eh? You’re quite similar to mankind, then, aren’t you?”

“What?”

Did he just compare the Arachnea to the human race?

“Humans kill their enemies just the same. We humiliate our foes, wanting to deprive them of as much as we possibly can. Our weak conscience keeps this desire in check, but those chains come off far too easily. I’ve seen enough wars to know this to be true.”

“Yes... You’re right. We aren’t too different from humans. I’d forgotten.”

Every day, the news back in my world was filled with reports of gruesome wars, murders, rapes, thefts... The list went on and on. Yes, humans could be just as savage as the Arachnea. I had thought we were special, but strangely enough, that was its own sort of conceit.

“However, I must admit your invasion was a truly barbaric one. You consumed entire villages, cities... entire nations like animals. If you call that instinct, then I can understand. You are indeed a living tidal wave.” He unsheathed the sword at his waist. “Queen of the Arachnea, I am a soldier from Schtraut’s military. I’ve sworn fealty to the Dukedom. To abide by that duty, I will fight.”

Apparently, the old man had been waiting here all this time because he was resolved to die.

“Sérignan, be his honorable opponent.”

“By your will, Your Majesty.” Sérignan stepped forward to meet his challenge.

“Then let our match...”

“Begin!”

The aging marshal swiped with his sword, and Sérignan swung her own down to meet him. Their blades locked together, and hers pushed his aside by the smallest of margins. Sérignan’s blade then slid into the man’s chest, and crimson blood gushed out from the wound.

“I have done... my duty.” The old man fell to his knees, then collapsed headfirst into the ground, breathing his last.

“He was an honorable man,” I said.

“Yes. Worthy of respect,” Sérignan murmured, looking down at his corpse.

“That was Sebastian de Silhouette,” Roland said, entering the room from behind us. “He was a veteran known for being stubborn, but I didn’t think his obstinance would go this far.” Roland approached the man and gently pressed his lids shut.

“He said Leopold is in the wine cellar, right? I’ll show you the way. It’s protected by a metal door, but that shouldn’t be much of an issue.”

I hoped Roland was right, but I got the sinking feeling that things wouldn’t be that simple.

♱

We approached the wine cellar. Its door was bulky and made of metal, more of a vault door than anything else.

“The wine cellar also doubles as a shelter in times of emergency, so the entrance is pretty sturdy.”

“It doesn’t have any escape tunnels, does it?”

“None that I’ve heard of, but I can’t deny the possibility. This is their final stronghold, after all.”

It wouldn’t be funny if they slipped away now that we’d come this far. I had to catch Leopold no matter what and teach him a lesson.

“Sérignan, can you open this door?”

“I will handle it.” Sérignan drew her corrupted holy sword and faced the door. “Haaaaah!”

Sérignan’s voice erupted from her lungs as she swung her sword at the door. To my surprise, she actually cleaved it straight in two, sending both halves falling to the ground. The thing was four centimeters thick, so I was shocked her blade had managed to cut through it.

“I detect multiple beings in this place, Your Majesty. Not all of them are human,” the Ripper Swarm warned me.

“Be careful, you two. There’s no telling what might be hiding down there.” What the Ripper Swarm said bothered me.

What’s down there that doesn’t smell human?

“By your will, Your Majesty.”

“You can rest easy.”

Sérignan and Roland advanced into the dark wine cellar. I could definitely sense something lurking down there. An animalistic growl issued from below, as well as the sound of something writhing and squirming.

I never was good with these kinds of jump-scares...

“Seriously, be on your guard, there’s something down there—”

But before I could finish my sentence, an animalistic shriek nearly ruptured my eardrums.

“Dammit! Didn’t I say no more angels or monsters?!”

I could hear shelves and bottles crashing down on the floor as the beast came closer and closer. I had no idea what kind of creature could produce that sound, but as it approached, I found myself frozen in fear.

“Your Majesty, you must get back!” The Ripper Swarm grabbed me and pulled me out of the cellar.

As I was flung out of the cellar, the beast came into view. It looked like a giant serpent, except it had a rooster’s legs and wings. A substance that looked like noxious smoke was rising from its mouth.

“That’s a basilisk!” Roland exclaimed, pulling out a black longsword similar to Sérignan’s.

“A basilisk? You mean one of those venomous snake things?” I asked, vaguely recalling hearing about this creature.

“Yes, the Dukedom is the basilisks’ natural habitat. Their venom is said to have been used in the past to assassinate dukes. They’re a famous type of monster, and the Adventurers’ Guild even often issues quests to cut down their population.”

As he spoke, he used his sword to deflect the basilisk’s sharp fangs as it shook its head and lunged at him. This only made the creature angrier, prompting it to attack Roland even more ferociously.

“Poison, huh? This thing must have been their trump card.” I gazed at the toxic smoke trailing up from the Basilisk’s mouth. “They’d have the enemy carelessly enter the cellar, where the basilisk would poison and eat them. That won’t work against us so easily, though. Don’t mind the poison, you two. Just kill it.”

“Understood, Your Majesty.”

Each time the Basilisk breathed out, it exhaled more toxic smoke into the wine cellar. Were any normal human to enter the cellar, they would likely start coughing up blood until they succumbed to the poison. It did nothing to Swarms, however, which had poison resistance as one of their racial skills. They could easily walk through lethal poison and nerve gas without so much as a tingle.

Roland had become a Swarm, and Sérignan was one to begin with, so the poison didn’t faze them one bit. They only had to face off against this vicious monster. I, on the other hand, wasn’t a real Swarm, so going into that toxic fog would kill me.

“Haaah!”

“Graaah!”

Sérignan and Roland leapt at the basilisk, their swords drawn.

“Skreeeeah!” The basilisk shrieked as blades sliced into the scales along its torso.

Despite its injuries, the basilisk kept up a steady stream of attacks. It swiped its claws at Sérignan and tried to sink its fangs into Roland, but they each deflected and blocked the attacks. By now, the basilisk was no longer a threat; it had fallen prey to a stronger predator.

Sérignan’s and Roland’s attacks were gradually cornering the creature.

“Roland, let us finish it off!” Sérignan exclaimed as the basilisk staggered backward.

“Understood, Miss Sérignan!”

The two of them moved perfectly in sync, driving their blades into the basilisk’s body. Sérignan’s sword pierced its throat, while Roland’s stabbed into its heart. Bloody froth bubbled out of the basilisk’s mouth, spilling onto the cellar floor.

This creature could be dispatched by mere adventurers, so of course it was no match for Sérignan and Roland. The basilisk pathetically slumped on the ground, spitting up poison, and breathed its final toxic breath.

“Is it done?”

“It is, Your Majesty.” Sérignan wiped the basilisk’s blood off her blade. “All that remains is to find Leopold the coward.”

“Now then, there should be a hidden room somewhere in this wine cellar,” I said. “They probably didn’t stay in the same room as the basilisk, assuming they’re not completely stupid. Ripper Swarm, sniff them out.”

We were back to the hunt. I entered the wine cellar after waiting for the air to clear, taking a look at a cupboard the basilisk had knocked askew during its rampage.

“Your Majesty, the smell seems to be coming from behind the cupboard.”

Apparently, I’d accidentally happened upon the secret entrance.

“Good job, Ripper Swarm. You probably get in by moving this cupboard aside. See, look at the floor; there are marks that look like something skidded against the ground. Roland, you open the door. Sérignan, Ripper Swarm, cover for him.”

“By your will.”

Roland shoved the cupboard away, while Sérignan and the Ripper Swarm prepared to charge into the room.

“I’m opening it!” Roland exclaimed and whipped open the secret door, his sword at the ready.

“Yaaargh!”

As the door swung open, a group of soldiers stormed out of the secret room. Sérignan jumped forward, cutting them down one by one, while the Ripper Swarm used its scythes and fangs to slay the others.

“W-Wait! Don’t kill me!” whimpered someone from inside as the last soldier fell.

“Come on out, Leopold. Well, I guess they call you Duke Lorraine now.”

“Wh-Who are you?!”

“Grevillea, Queen of the Arachnea. You’re Leopold de Lorraine, right?”

I didn’t even have to ask; I knew this was the same man who had mocked me during that evening party. A man so cowardly and wretched, Roland couldn’t even consider him a brother anymore.

“Th-That’s right. I’m Duke Lorraine, the ruler of Schtraut. I-I’ve been preparing to make peace with you. I have a... proposition! Yes! One that will benefit us both. I know neither of us wants this war!”

“Do you, now? Well, unfortunately for you, I’m not looking for peace. The only thing I want is your head on a pike.”

With that, the Ripper Swarm dragged Leopold out into the open.

“Now, what are we going to do with you? I should mention that seeing what you did to Marine really pissed me off. I figured it’d only be fair to get back at you for that. Hmm, how should I go about it though?”

“Please don’t... I beg of you! I was only trying to protect my country!”

Maybe he did believe that deep down, but the way he’d gone about it was so awful that it gave our methods of “peacemaking” a run for their money. That aging marshal had said human instinct is kept in check with the small cuffs of one’s conscience, but this man completely lacked anything of the sort.

Obviously, I wasn’t one to criticize people lacking a conscience, but I still hated this man with a passion. Why had the adventurers and the receptionist who’d treated us well had to die? Why had the people we’d chatted with in the tavern become part of this? Why did this man have to keep killing everyone we became involved with? It was infuriating.

I hate him.

“He has to pay,” I concluded. I turned to Roland. “You don’t mind me doing whatever I want with your brother?”

“Go ahead. He’s no brother to me now.”

“Roland! Have you forgotten that we’re family?! All the things we did together, everything I’ve done for you! Yet you abandon me?! The God of Light will never forgive that! This is treachery!”

Roland winced, but not because those words pained him.

“You were the one to abandon me first, Leopold. You’re the one who caused all of this. I told you to be cautious about impeaching Duke Sharon, but you ignored me. If hell truly exists, I hope you’ll spend eternity down there, stewing in regret.”

The man-turned-Swarm had no familial love in his eyes. He stared down at Leopold with disgust, as if he were filthy vermin.

“No objections? Good,” I said, taking a Parasite Swarm out from my sleeve. “Then let’s begin your execution.”

I always carried a Parasite Swarm with me in case I needed it. And boy, was I going to need it.

“Sérignan, pin him down and hold his mouth open.”

Sérignan did as I told her. I unceremoniously shoved the Parasite Swarm between his lips. It slithered into his throat, fixed itself in place, and began extending its tentacles into his brain.

“Tear off your own nails,” I ordered.

Leopold did as he was told. He began tearing off his own fingernails, screaming all the while.

That must be painful, Leopold. A true, agonizing nightmare. But didn’t the people of Marine suffer something much worse?

“Break your own fingers.”

“Tear off your ears.”

“Gouge out your eyes.”

I gave one command after another, and Leopold obeyed, yelling and weeping all the while.

“Roland, is this hard for you to watch?”

“No. This man betrayed his own country and sentenced millions of innocents to their deaths. If anything, what you’ve done isn’t nearly enough.”

“Really? Wow. You’re one hell of a guy, you know that?”

If I had to watch a relative go through something like this, I’d try to stop it no matter what. I’m a weak human being at heart.

“Then this is the last one. Use this sword to tear open your guts, and pull out your own entrails.”

I handed down his final order. Hurting this man any more would do nothing to bring back the kind people of Marine. This revenge was only a form of self-gratification. It only served to satisfy my sadistic streak. I wasn’t sure if it had been born from the collective consciousness or if it had been a part of me to begin with.

“Gaaah... Aaagh...”

Leopold tore his own stomach open and weakly began pulling out his internal organs. As his blood pooled all over the floor, Leopold fell down into it and stopped moving.

“It’s over now. Revenge really is such a hollow thing,” I whispered, looking down at his mangled body.

“You have brought him to justice, Your Majesty. This was right.”

“I can only pray that it was. Well, not to the God of Light, anyway.”

With that said, I left the wine cellar behind me. It was finally over.

Or was it...?

With Leopold dead, the Popedom of Frantz would likely cross the border to occupy the Dukedom’s territory. The task of stopping them fell to me, the queen of the Arachnea.

It is my... I am... I...

“Your Majesty?!”

I’m... really tired all of a sudden...

The Shock of Schtraut

News of the Dukedom’s defeat by the Arachnea rapidly reached all corners of the continent. Saania, the capital of the Popedom of Frantz, was no exception.

“So, the Dukedom has fallen... Everything must have gone according to plan, then,” Pope Benedictus III said weakly.

“They were bound to taste God’s judgment sooner or later,” replied Cardinal Paris Pamphilj, his second-in-command. “The only thing those fools believed in was profit. God has delivered their punishment and shown the world that faith is truly important. Now their nation has been purified.”

It had been Paris’ choice to abandon the Dukedom. He’d purposefully ordered the allied army to hold its position at the border rather than advance, damning Schtraut to its fate. With the army’s aid, the forces in Doris might have been able to fend off the Arachnea’s invasion, but instead, they had been left to die.

But what had driven him to this decision?

“You call it God’s judgment, but the people of Schtraut were simply overrun by monsters. Those creatures are an affront to the God of Light. They are no instruments of divine retribution, but an influx of evil...”

“No, no, Your Holiness. They are the Lord’s instruments, you see. As you know, the God of Light guides anything and everything in this world. Even this army of insects was brought about by His will. At least, so long as they judge the infidels.”

Contrary to Paris’ words, the Dukedom of Schtraut had not experienced some holy cleansing, some righteous purge. It had simply been invaded by the Arachnea and destroyed. To call it God’s will was an insult to both the Arachnea and the very God of Light he was so quick to invoke.

“You are right in that the Dukedom cared little for spirituality; anyone could tell they had more faith in economy. Despite that, I think the people of other nations will care less about this and more about the fact that the Dukedom’s bankers will no longer have a grip on their coffers.”

“Interpret it as you will, Your Holiness. The fact remains that retribution has been delivered. Everything works according to the Lord’s will, and the God of Light never errs.”

Benedictus himself had received considerable loans from the Dukedom of Schtraut in order to fund his election—and this was money he had yet to return. Even the Empire of Nyrnal and the Eastern Trade Union owed large debts to the Dukedom’s bankers.

For those indebted to the Dukedom, news of the nation’s fall could not have been better. The money-hungry bankers no longer existed, and so these funds no longer need be collected. This was precisely why Paris had chosen to abandon the Dukedom.

Paris himself owed massive debts to Schtraut which had weighed heavily upon his shoulders ever since he’d become a cardinal. As time went on, he felt that repayment might be impossible. While being a cardinal came with considerable income, and he had plenty of dealings going on under the table, he was a frivolous spender with no penchant for saving.

But now the bankers had all been slaughtered by the Arachnea. Paris would finally be able to sleep at night, and he could even acquire more funds from the Eastern Trade Union—funds he would use to become the next pope.

Everything Paris did was in the name of his own interests. All his talk of divine retribution was simply a convenient way of describing the situation. Paris only wanted to free himself of his debt to Schtraut and pave his own path to the papacy.

“Even if this was divine retribution, our enemies are devils all the same. The elves, dwarves, and other demi-humans still worship a legion of demons. If those fiends plan to attack the Popedom of Frantz, the God of Light will show them his radiant majesty in a flash of fire and brimstone. In the name of God, the allied army will slay those monsters. Every last man on this continent will know that He is the only deity worthy of worship.”

“Hmm... The enemy has leveled both the Kingdom of Maluk and the Dukedom of Schtraut in quick succession. Will the alliance truly be able to stand up to them without the Empire of Nyrnal? Not only that, but when the army is occupied with fending off the monsters, the Nyrnals themselves may try to intervene.”

The rift between the alliance and the Empire of Nyrnal was still ongoing. Despite repeated appeals from the allied side, the Empire made it clear they had no intentions of joining forces. Hence, the alliance had to proceed without aid from the greatest power on the continent.

Worse yet, the Empire’s refusal to participate meant that the alliance couldn’t depend on its power if the situation got out of hand. It also meant that the Empire was poised to stab Frantz in the back while the alliance was occupied with the Arachnea.

“May the God of Light grant us his protection... although our victory is certain. We need not fear the legion of monsters or the Empire of Nyrnal.” Paris smirked. “Besides, if worse comes to worst, we have the heritage of Marianne given to us by the God of Light. Should we call upon the Seraph Metatron, we will easily reduce the infidels to ashes.”

“I only pray things need not come to that.” Benedictus III met Paris’ sardonic smile with a bitter expression. “There can be no telling what the Seraph might do. A heritage of the past is not something we should trust so easily.”

Metatron was an angel spoken of only in myths and legends. But if this exchange were to be believed, could that mean it actually existed in the Popedom of Frantz?

♱

Off the coast of Frantz, there was an archipelago. While many of its isles were rather small, there was one central island much larger than the rest. Its name was Atlantica, and it was a haven for pirates.

From there, pirates staged assaults on trade cogs from all over, raided port cities, and hauled in their plundered booty. Rumor had it that if any of this bloodstained treasure were to leave Atlantica’s shores, whoever came to possess it would be haunted by evil spirits.

“The Dukedom got sacked?!”

Achille Alessandri, the leader of Atlantica’s pirates, was a man with an eyepatch over his right eye. Contrary to his savage appearance, he was quite civil and had a knack for politics; he’d been promoted to his position by the previous leader thanks to his negotiation skills.

The one-eyed pirate had promised the old man a sizable sum of gold in exchange for his retirement, as well as a safe hideaway and a pension to boot. Once they’d shaken hands on the deal, Achille had taken control of the pirate colony.

His promises had gone unfulfilled, however; Achille had leaked the hideaway’s location to governmental authorities, and the former head of the pirates had been hanged for all his misdeeds. Yes, Achille truly knew how to negotiate... to get what he wanted, that is.

“Apparently, a massive army of bugs popped up on the mainland and has been running amok. First they sacked Maluk, and now they got Schtraut, too. People have been bettin’ on which country’ll be next on the chopping block.”

“Who d’ya think’ll win?” asked his companion.

“The Popedom of Frantz.”

The man Achille was speaking to bore a deep scar across his right cheek. He was Blasco Bartoli, Achille’s right hand and a man known for his ferocious disposition. He’d fed many disobedient subordinates and hostages whose families didn’t pay up to his shiver of sharks. Atlantica had an inlet where Blasco bred the sharks, and this location doubled as an execution ground. The seafloor was littered with bleached bones, and the sharks were always circling the waters in anticipation of new victims.

“Then we should probably hold off on attackin’ Schtraut for a while, eh? Can’t see anythin’ good comin’ outta that. I figure a horde o’ monsters that knocked two countries outta existence won’t have much worth takin’. Gotta keep the risk ’n’ return in mind, savvy?”

Pirates may have seemed like savages, but they were actually rather methodical people. If they were to provoke a strong country too much, that nation could dispatch a force to suppress them. With that in mind, they kept their pillaging and murder down just enough to ensure they didn’t come across as too much of a threat. Anyone who disobeyed Atlantica’s rules was mercilessly executed, which maintained peace in the pirates’ haven.

“Well, if you ask me, I think now’s exactly the right time to attack Schtraut,” said a woman sitting opposite Achille.

She had a tall, voluptuous frame and, in contrast to Achille, an eyepatch over her left eye. The fact she was expressing outright objection to Achille’s opinion was proof of her bravado.

“And why should we do that, Isabelle?”

“Because if the country is wrecked, it means there’s no navy to crack down on us pirates. Raiding a port town means we can take anything we want and dip out no problem. What reason do we have not to raid the Dukedom?”

She was Isabelle Ismael, a pirate who had recently distinguished herself from the rest of the bunch.

“That’s a decent point. Those creatures can’t go out to sea, after all.”

“Nah, turns out they can. Y’know Doris, the capital? It’s on an island floating in the sea off the coast of Schtraut. Apparently, the damn buggers used ships to attack it.”

Somehow, the Arachnea’s use of ships to ferry tens of thousands of insects to Doris’ shores and destroy the capital from the inside had already become common knowledge.

“True, but still, they’re just bugs. They ain’t meant to live out in the sea. It’s not like we’re dealing with Sirens or Sea Serpents here, ya know? I ain’t scared of them. If you’re too afraid of the big bad bugs, I’ll just sail out on my own and get filthy stinkin’ rich. Don’t expect to get a cut, though.”

With that, Isabelle rose from her chair and left the room, twirling a knife between her fingers.

“Can’t say I like the neophyte,” Achille said with displeasure in his voice. “That woman pisses me off. Shows no respect for authority, ya know?”

“Aye, well, she’ll get herself inta trouble sooner or later,” Blasco replied. “People like her get too full o’ themselves and end up makin’ some kinda huge blunder. She’ll come crawlin’ back to you for help, matey, just you wait. And when that happens, we can take turns ridin’ that sweet body o’ hers.”

Just as big changes were occurring on the mainland, the tides were turning even on the island of Atlantica.

♱

Nestled between the menacing superpower of the continent, the Empire of Nyrnal, and the religious center that was the Popedom of Frantz, was the Eastern Trade Union.

“Silence! I said silence!”

A wooden gavel knocked against the table several times, its echoes traveling through the Pleasure City of Khalkha, hailed as the entertainment center of the continent. It was said that any manner of pleasure could be found in Khalkha.

As if to punctuate that point, brothels lined Khalkha’s streets. Women wearing nothing but lingerie beckoned to men walking by their establishments, while equally scantily clad men brandished their muscles to draw in female customers. Of course, sometimes these prostitutes lured in members of the same sex; this was just one example of how liberal a city Khalkha truly was.

Indeed, the Pleasure City of Khalkha permitted fulfillment of virtually any desire. All manners of gambling were allowed, narcotics forbidden throughout the rest of the continent’s countries were exchanged without inhibition, and death matches were held in underground arenas.

The Popedom of Frantz had declared Khalkha a corrupt hotbed of sin worthy of burning in God’s sacred flames, and the Empire of Nyrnal secretly saw it as an hindrance to its unification efforts.

True to its name, the Eastern Trade Union was a land of merchants. It had been formed by a number of business and trade guilds from multiple countries. The Adventurers’ Guild and Mercenaries’ Guild formed their military might.

At present, this merchants’ country was wavering.

“An army of monsters destroyed an entire country?! That’s absurd!”

“That’s right! And the so-called allied army is clearly just Frantz’s military!”

At the heart of Khalkha was the Union Assembly Hall, the operating center of the Eastern Trade Union. Currently, a meeting was being held to discuss the Dukedom’s fate.

“The fall of the Dukedom is indisputable fact,” said the chairman of the meeting. “Macaulay, our contact from the Informants’ Guild, has confirmed it. It seems their few remaining refugees are currently fleeing to the Popedom. You’re not doubting Macaulay’s report, are you?”

“Still, we should refuse any offer to join forces with Frantz! Those maniacs have already said thirteen times that they wish to see the beauty of Khalkha burned to the ground by the God of Light’s fire and brimstone! We can’t possibly ally with the likes of them!”

“No, they said it fifteen times. They recently held another speech where they reminded everyone that God will cast judgment upon our city. Those damnable crooked monks!”

Angry shouts broke out in the meeting hall.

“Silence! I will have silence!” The chairman once again banged his gavel. “Withdrawing from the alliance is an option, but it goes without saying it will aggravate our relations with the Popedom. If Frantz were to be conquered by the bugs, however, who will lend us aid? Do we turn to Nyrnal? The possibility is certainly there...”

The chairman’s idea was met with fervent refusal.

“Nyrnal is out of the question!”

“The Adventurers’ Guild will protect you!” cried one guild master from the Adventurers’ Guild.

“That’s right! Slaying monsters is our duty!” said another.

“In that case, we must first ascertain what sort of enemy we’re up against. We’ve heard that they’re insects, at least, but that doesn’t help us develop a countermeasure. Do any of you have an adventurer skilled and courageous enough to infiltrate a torched land crawling with monsters?”

“Yes, we have someone who fits the bill!” called out one particular guild master, raising his hand.

“Then I’ll leave it to you,” said the chairman with a nod. “Have them observe the enemy and identify a weak point if possible. Additionally, see if there’s any chance of... negotiation.”

“What...? You intend to negotiate with those hellspawn?!”

The chairman’s words were met with exasperated criticism by the attendees. None of them yet knew that the Arachnea was composed of sentient, intelligent creatures. They all thought the monsters were no different from griffins or manticores that killed livestock and attacked people.

“I merely want to see if there’s a chance! We must probe every possible angle if we are to make it through this! Now, this meeting is dismissed!”

And so the turbulent meeting came to a close. Few people knew what course of action this little merchant nation would take.

♱

Now that both its neutral neighbors were lying in ruins, the Empire of Nyrnal was bristling at the ever-encroaching presence of the Arachnea. On this particular day, the sound of boots clicking against flagstones filled the city of Vejya as countless men marched in a military parade.

It was the sight of a country preparing for war.

In addition to all these foot soldiers, one force unique to the Empire showed off its might: the wyverns. Formations of wyverns soared through the sky, breathing flames hither and thither as they went. The sight elicited cheers from spectators, prompting the wyverns to rapidly circle around and draw a trail through the air.

These bright-red wyverns were the driving force that had made Nyrnal into the vast superpower it was today. Were it not for these wyverns, the Empire would be just one of many unsubstantial countries in this region. The wyverns’ mobility and firepower had shaped and upheld the Empire’s might.

Wyverns were the aerial annihilators also known as “red reapers.” Some people said they were flying furnaces, ready to cremate anyone unfortunate enough to taste their flames. They were a truly terrible threat. Even some mercenaries would run away in fear at the sound of their wings flapping in the distance.

These flying devils formed the heart of Nyrnal’s army, and mere arrows could not pierce their hides. Nothing short of a ballista would do against these beasts. However, the wyverns wouldn’t allow enemies to build stationary weapons or fortifications; they would simply burn the construction sites to the ground before they were finished. It was doubtful as to whether it was even possible to beat the wyverns this way, and so they remained the symbol of Nyrnal’s invincibility.

As the saying went: “Fear the red scales of the wyvern, for they are the harbingers of death.”

As the Empire’s subjects watched them with reverence, the dragoons riding the wyverns continued their acrobatics, showing off their skill and proficiency. Among the crowd were ambassadors from other countries, and the sight was as intimidating as the citizens found it exciting. That was because this showy display doubled as a threat; it warned these ambassadors that should they turn against Nyrnal, the wyverns would reduce their country to cinders.

“Your Majesty, a word?” murmured Bertholdt von Bülow, the Empire’s Chief Cabinet Secretary.

“What is it?” asked Emperor Maximillian, his eyes still on the parade.

“The Dukedom of Schtraut has fallen. The capital, Doris, lies in ruins. Meanwhile, the allied army shows no signs of moving. Our informants tell me that the Popedom of Frantz is trying to make use of this incident to reorganize their financial prospects and expand their political sphere of influence.”

“Naturally. Why can’t Frantz’s rotten old monks brew up something nicer once in a while?” Maximillian’s lips curled up in a thin smile.

Bertholdt’s intelligence network was vast. It extended not only throughout the Nyrnal Empire, but also into the Popedom of Frantz, the Eastern Trade Union, the now-ruined Dukedom of Schtraut, and many of the smaller neutral countries. Even more frightening was that he had spies among the pirates of Atlantica.

Nothing occurred on the continent that escaped Bertholdt’s attention. This unusual man had sown eyes and ears in every corner of the land. Consequently, Maximillian had chosen to place his trust in the man, and Bertholdt had attained his current position.

“Still, an alliance without our support is like a man without a spine.” Maximillian paused to politely applaud the dragoons’ performance. “It’s clear they’ll crumble sooner than later. There is no real alliance beyond its name; in truth, the so-called alliance serves only the Popedom. The only question is when they’ll become foolish enough to provoke the monsters and bring about their own demise.”

“Then the False Mobilization Project will go according to plan?” Bertholdt asked.

“Yes, as agreed. I leave it in your capable hands.” Maximillian side-eyed his advisor, and added sharply, “You would do well not to fail me. Be meticulous in gathering your intelligence, and proceed with utmost caution.”

“As you wish, Your Majesty.”

As the dragoons and their wyverns wowed the crowd with their flips and flames, others began to move in ways that would shape the fate of the world.

♱

“Now then, ladies and gentlemen. We have written a new page into this story, and the blood of our victims has served as the ink. A beautiful, ruthless, and entertaining story, reeking with blood and gore.”

Samael stood in the dark ruins of a filthy, dilapidated castle, illuminated by a beam of moonlight as though she were center stage.

“The despicable Arachnea. This vicious empire’s terrible tyranny has already reduced two countries to rubble. The nations that remain are moving solely in pursuit of their own interests, and they have no real means of stopping the insect army. When this vicious faction once again bares its fangs, who will be consumed next?”

Samael began to twirl about as she chanted in singsong, her red eyes glittering all the while.

“Aaah, aaah! Tremble in fear and pray for a cure, but the upcoming tempest no one can endure. As the bell tolls and the land blooms with deaths, battlefields bleed and soldiers take their last breaths. Really, more could you want from such a world?”

She froze in place, letting her black locks sway to and fro.

“The wyverns of Nyrnal are a horrible sight. Don’t they make the Nyrnals the true masters of might? They will take to the skies and blot out the sun, and their flames will torch everything and everyone! What’ll be left then, huh? They can even burn up the Arachnea’s bugs, after all...”

Samael smiled viciously.

“The land of dragons once was lord over all the world with its dragon horde. But after it had long prevailed, fate took a turn, and then it failed. Once hailed as noble and sublime, its strength has now been lost to time. The Empire of Nyrnal is thus the heir to the fearsome beasts that rule the air.”

Samael continued her small dance, upping the tempo as she spun her tale.

“But the land of dragons has taken up its old mission; through Nyrnal, its new heart now thrums with ambition. The world will once again tremble in terror as the wyverns take flight for the new dragon-bearer. Will that long-lost dream of world domination come to fruition or end in damnation? Who will rot, and who will stand in dominion—it all rests in the hands of Emperor Maximillian.”

Wyverns... Those abhorrent, awe-inspiring monsters.

“Still, they have met their worthy match in the Swarms that sting and bite and scratch. This wicked army thrives on blood, and every victim feeds the flood. The Arachnea moves as a legion, its strength in numbers and cohesion. For every five the wyverns burn, ten more will rise to take their turn.”

The Arachnea... An empire that prided itself in overwhelming the enemy with its numerous Swarm.

“Who will emerge victorious? Aaah, a game, a game! A fun, fun game! All work and no play makes me a dull girl.”

Samael cackled and continued to cavort over a map of the continent.

“Who will be the next to fall? Will it be the Empire of Nyrnal or the Popedom of Frantz? Maybe the Eastern Trade Union, or perhaps Atlantica’s pirates? Let me fill that dried heart of yours, withered from eons of boredom, with fresh blood. And, in recompense, show me how you spill rivers of blood yourself.”

After that, Samael tore through the map with the heels of her shoes and vanished into the darkness. The continent remained in tatters. It was not truly her heels which had torn it apart, but hatred, selfishness, and needless pride.

A hollow-hearted allied army had left its allies to die. The Empire coiled quietly in the shadows, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. Such injustices were all too human; the Arachnea’s appearance had not driven mankind to unite.

Be it the name of God or the Emperor, each country was only acting in its own best interests, kicking others away or abandoning them entirely as it writhed to protect itself.

The Popedom of Frantz: a land of fools who prayed with one hand and bribed with another.

Atlantica: an island of savages who thrived on pillaging.

The Eastern Trade Union: a utopia for those who desired freedom, pleasure, and money.

The Empire of Nyrnal: a land that spread its wings not in the name of liberty, but death.

The Arachnea: a legion of murderous insects only restrained by its queen’s feeble grasp on her own sanity.

At last, the actors had all gathered. The Kingdom of Maluk had been razed to the ground and the Dukedom of Schtraut had been wiped off the face of the map. Only five factions remained.

Which would survive? Which would be ruined? Which would emerge victorious?

Despite their fear of the Arachnea, mankind had not banded together, and the continent was completely divided. With the current state of affairs, would the large empires come out on top, or would it be the much more flexible small countries?

The Popedom’s soldiers brandished the just banner of the alliance, believing themselves to be the heroes who would save the continent. Atlantica’s pirates sailed their ships, hoping to take advantage of the chaos to wrench more tainted spoils from the hands of the dead.

Meanwhile, the Eastern Trade Union’s guilds were on the move, trying to come up with a way for their small country to survive the coming crisis. The Empire of Nyrnal’s wyverns flew through the skies, preparing to land a special blow.

As each country began to steer its course, it was time for the Arachnea’s queen to make a decision. Where would she strike next? The Swarm and the alliance were already glaring at each other from across the border; a fight could break out at any moment.

But the Arachnea had spread too thin, and the long strip of land extending from Maluk to Schtraut had become something of a vulnerable flank of their territory. The wrong decision could lead to the Arachnea’s hasty retreat, so the queen needed to make the right choice.

“Right... From here, we will go out to sea.”

♱♱♱