Jasper ran flat out, panic driving him to glance over his shoulder again and again. There was no way they could take on all those criminals. He took off as soon as the fighting started.

  The voice in his head that had been somewhat quiet today told him to run, and was now guiding him through the streets.

  “To your left.”

  “No, not that way, idiot.”

  “Yes, that's good.”

  The city passed in a blur. No idea where he was, no idea where he was going. He just ran.

  There was a moment that he thought he recognised a street to get back to his camp but the voice denied him any detours.

  Finally, his directions from the voice came to an end. The voice led him to an ominous, narrow hole in the ground that screamed welcome.

  "What do I do now?” Jasper asked, finally catching his breath..

  “Now, you go in,” the voice said pointedly.

  “In there?! You’re crazy! I’ll die!” Jasper’s voice cracked with panic.

  There was a pause. Jasper’s hands were shaking, teeth chattering.

  The voice sighed, the noise strange in his head.

  “Why would I lead you all this way just to kill you? I could have just said nothing and let you die. Humans… honestly.”

  “Doing as I suggest is the only option. Otherwise, those other humans are going to catch up to you and then you will be dead. Your time is running out Jasper. Can’t you see I’m trying to help you?”

  Jasper spun his head around in every direction, more panic settling in. Those men were coming? His useless people couldn’t hold them off for even a second? He was right all along! That con-man Leo was incompetent.

  A tinge of sadness filled his heart at the thought of having to abandon some of the others, but his own life always came first.

  “Get in the hole!” the voice screamed with impatience.

  The sound wrenched Jasper’s thoughts to the point where he felt his brain scramble. His vision was blurry as he stumbled.

  Too startled and dazed by the sudden shift, combined with the still mounting dread of being murdered by those convicts, he did the only thing he thought available.

  He jumped into the hole.

  He slid down the mud-slick tunnel, the walls battering him as it twisted deeper underground.

  Reaching the bottom with a dull thud, he scrambled around for any kind of bearings as his hands felt around the walls, feeling only solid dirt packed tightly.

  Purple moss covered the walls that glowed with a dim light, gently illuminating enough to see. Surprised by the large size of the tunnels, Jasper followed the only passage into an open chamber, and what he saw almost made him collapse in horror.

  Corpses littered the ground.

  There were at least ten, mangled, broken bodies. Lying about like trash that had been scattered and abandoned. His eyes darted across the sickening sight, stomach twisting violently. He gagged, barely suppressing vomit, his limbs trembling uncontrollably.

  He shouldn’t be here.

  Every instinct screamed at him to run, yet fear of the voice was even stronger. He couldn’t remember why he was so afraid of it. It had only helped him so far.

  Why am I afraid?

  The thought was interrupted by another direction.

  “Good. You made it. Now, go towards the far chamber,” the voice commanded.

  With no better alternative he could think of, Jasper followed the orders.

  He slowly made his way around the outside of the chamber, too horrified to cross straight through and entered the far chamber. Worry that he was being led into an ambush or would end up dead like those people in that room crossed his mind constantly. But somehow, he managed to summon the courage to continue.

  Reaching the chamber, he gawked, as it was nothing as he expected, there was a shimmering blue shield of some sort that almost promised safety, lifting his spirits slightly before he looked closer.

  Inside, it was what looked like a laboratory, with tables covered in sheets and books. Items he remembered from his chemistry classes back in school, but the wrong shapes and more intricate. There were also ominous blood stains that coated some sort of operation table in the middle. A chattering noise started suddenly and he looked around in panic at the source of the noise only to realise that it was his own teeth.

  A new voice snapped him from his panic as his jaw shut tightly.

  “Oh? A new subject has stumbled upon my nest?”

  The sound was sickly and distorted, as if it belonged to something that had forgotten how to be human.

  Jasper drew his dagger with a trembling hand. He tried to move his feet in the opposite direction but they wouldn't budge. It was as if his full body was being encased in quicksand, unable to move, unable to speak.

  A figure rounded the corner and stepped towards the edge of the shimmering barrier.

  His dagger sunk into the mud as his grip completely faltered.

  It was half man, half ant—an ugly fusion of flesh and chitin. One half of its face bore twitching mandibles that clicked with every movement. The other was disturbingly human, lips pulled tight as if stretched over something they no longer fit. The eyes were larger than usual, with compound pupils but still held the human-like shape.

  His torso was armoured in a dull, black carapace, ridged and glossy like an overgrown exoskeleton. Insect legs sprouted from his sides—long, jointed things that flexed and twitched but were never used. He walked on human legs, awkward and jerky, as if mimicking the memory of what walking used to be.

  Jasper was frozen in fear, but even through the fear, he managed to identify it.

  Insect Converted - Level ??

  It’s a monster…

  Jasper opened his mouth to speak but the creature spoke first.

  “Hmm, no. Not a subject,” it said, intrigued. “Not entirely. You have the touch of my Lord upon you."

  “Come in. Others may step through the barrier. I cannot.”

  “Go on. Don't keep him waiting now Jasper,” the voice said, as if coaxing child.

  Jasper looked around at the situation he found himself in. His choices were either; be stuck underground in a bubble shield with an ant-mutant monster doing god knows what, or waiting to become like those sad, dead people in the other room.

  Only one of these options was endorsed by at least someone or something.

  One slow, careful step at a time, he made his way through the barrier. Completely unprepared for what came next.

  ~

  The fight on the surface had concluded. Leo stood alone, his mind numb as he stared at the notifications.

  You have slain: Human, Knight - Level 8

  Experience Gained

  Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

  +120 Store Credits

  You have slain: Human, Mage - Level 7

  Experience Gained

  +95 Store Credits

  You have slain: Human, Rogue - Level 7

  Experience Gained

  +105 Store Credits

  Your Pugilist class has reached level 13

  Stat points distributed

  +1 Free Point

  Sighing bitterly, he noticed that his strike on the Rogue was enough to kill after all. His eyes lingered on the corpse's back, waiting for it to rise, but it never would. Killing by accident somehow felt worse—more senseless. It wasn’t the first life he’d taken, unlikely to be the last, but it felt messier.

  Shaking his head to try and clear the thoughts, he moved over to where Cecelia’s injuries were being treated.

  “Don’t make that face,” Cecelia said as he approached.

  “What face?” Leo asked solemnly.

  “The face of regret,” she replied firmly. “You did what you needed to do. Thanks to those actions we get to live another day. Do not mourn those animals, they were no more than monsters in disguise.”

  Leo nodded but said nothing.

  He had no counter argument. Getting cut up with mental anguish every time he killed would do nothing.

  With how things had gone so far, there would undoubtedly be more times he'd need to kill. They hadn't hesistated in trying to do the same.

  The world had changed. It was time he started to try changing with it.

  “What happens now?” Lena asked, her face pale as a sheet.

  “We–” Cecelia groaned as the arrow was ripped from her leg.

  “Sorry,” Amy said, unapologetic.

  Regaining her composure, she continued. “We take this one–” She gestured to the man who was unconscious. “Back to our camp. As soon as I can walk again with ease.”

  She attempted to stand and was pulled down again by Amy.

  “Sit down. You’ve overdone it. You will wait until you are healed.” Her tone left no room for response.

  Cecelia simply nodded, cheeks faintly red. Leo wasn’t sure if she was embarrassed or just irritated at being fussed over.

  He stifled a laugh, seeing the usual stern and authoritative Cecelia being scolded like a child.

  Not missing the smallest of laughs, she glared daggers at him, and Leo took that as his cue to leave. Swiftly.

  He moved around the dead bodies, searching for any supplies or weapons they had and placing them in his storage ring. He also thought about the arrows for Ron’s quiver.

  Moving to the quiver he identified it.

  Quiver of Arrows (Common)

  A basic quiver used to hold arrows

  Uses mana to replenish arrows

  “Oh, neat.”

  Good thing he checked. He wouldn't have to embarrass himself now and show up with a quiver of arrows just to see that Ron’s was still full to the brim. It didn’t take long to gather what was lootable. He left the clothing on them. Stripping the dead for basic starting gear wasn't something he felt comfortable doing quite yet, nor did they have much use for it.

  Leo realised he had missed something major and forgot to ask, dashing back over to do so.

  “What happened to Jasper?”

  “He scuttled off like a coward,” Amy spat the words with venom.

  “What do you mean?” He was even more confused.

  “One minute he was beside us, ready to fight, and the next he just darted off.”

  “Should we go look for him?” Leo asked.

  “No,” Cecelia said decisively. “He could be anywhere, but most likely he’s already back at camp. Although he will wish he wasn’t.” Her expression was cold, her tone carrying a clear malice.

  “We are about done here, so let’s get moving,” Amy said briefly wincing as she stood. “I’m tapped on mana too.”

  “Can you carry him back to base?” Cecelia asked Leo, gesturing to the downed warrior.

  “Probably,” he replied, shrugging.

  Leo walked over and knelt to pick the prisoner up, the man still prone and lying closeby.

  Voltaic Reflex hummed softly, a subtle warning he barely caught—then surged violently, forcing him to pull his head back as a knife flashed upward. The razor sharp steel blade glinted past his vision, mere centimetres from his face.

  Leo caught the man’s wrist before he could swing again, twisting it round and squeezed.

  The sounds of bones cracking and the following scream echoed out around him.

  “Please, let go! I’m sorry, okay! Just let me go!” he begged as he tried to pull his hand from Leo’s grasp.

  Leo's voice, cold as ice, asked, “Any more blades on you?”

  If it had been anyone else that had checked on him, they’d be dead. Rage started to build as his face darkened, bloodlust leaking from his pores. His grip tightened.

  “No, No! I don't! I swear! That hurts! Please!” he said quickly. His face was beyond fearful. He was terrified.

  Leo’s eyes narrowed as he stared directly at him, unblinking. He could see the man’s fear escalate rapidly, as if he knew his demise was incoming, it didn’t make him loosen his grip.

  “What happened?” Amy asked. The group was making their way over.

  “He pulled a knife, thankfully he missed,” Leo replied, his cold voice warming slightly when addressing his friends.

  Cecelia frowned, clicking her tongue in annoyance. “We should have searched him. A mistake…” She sighed. “One I will not make again.”

  “Please! Tell him to let go! I’m sorry!” the man pleaded, eyes watering.

  Cecelia moved and searched his person, now recovered enough to be moving around with apparent ease, although Leo could tell she was putting on a brave face.

  “Nothing else, you can let him go,” Cecelia said.

  Leo released the man’s hand. It was immediately clutched to his chest with a wince.

  “You broke my fucking arm man,” he cried.

  “You’re lucky I didn’t let him kill you,” Cecelia threatened darkly. “Now. Get up. We are leaving.”

  “Where are we going?” the man asked, voice wary.

  Cecelia gave him a look. Icy cold and threatening. “Wherever I tell you to.”

  Slowly getting to his feet, the man was giving terrified looks towards Leo and Cecelia and began nodding excessively.

  The group started to move back towards the camp. They managed to avoid any antlings so far, the city giving them a brief respite after the chaos of the day. The prisoner was walking in the middle of the group, in between Leo and Cecelia with Amy next to her, and Lena with Leo.

  Leo spoke to Lena, her face pale and expression downcast.

  “Are you okay?”

  She gave him a weak smile. “How can I be? We just murdered four people, and now we are taking a prisoner back.”

  “Yeah… It was a dumb question, huh?” he said, trying to relieve some of the tension and raise the mood a little.

  She exhaled a slight laugh, but it was soon replaced by a tearful sob.

  “How can any of this be okay? I can’t do this. I can barely fight the ants! Nevermind people!”

  “I understand,” Leo began solemnly, “I’m sorry… I wish that you didn’t have to fight, I truly do. While I might admit that I enjoy fighting the ants, I can’t say fighting people is the same. I’ll do my best to make sure you won’t have to fight anyone again.”

  “You can’t promise that.”

  “I can’t, you’re right,” he admitted. “But I can try.”

  The prisoner scoffed. “Weak. It’s kill or be killed out here. Full on Darwin! You’ll die before long with that attitude.”

  Leo was about to knock him senseless, but it was Cecelia who spoke first.

  “We killed four of yours. If anyone’s weak. It’s you.”

  The man only grumbled in response.

  They made the laborious walk back to base in silence from then, the actions of the day weighing heavily on some, less so on others. By the time they made it back, all Leo wanted to do was sleep. Well aware that the night ahead of them would be anything but restful.

  “Leo! You guys made it–” Ashley said, running out to meet them before stopping suddenly.

  “Hey Ash,” Leo greeted dejectedly. “It was rough out there.”

  “Let’s go inside. We have much to discuss.” Cecelia said, walking past Ashley. “You. Follow.”

  The prisoner followed obediently, too scared to disobey.

  Bjorn greeted them in the same way Ashley did, at first with joy but quickly turned steely and hard.

  “Who’s this?” He gestured to the unnamed, injured warrior. “And where’s Jasper?”

  “Jasper’s not here?” Leo asked, confused.

  “No?” Bjorn questioned. “Why would he be? He went with you.”

  Cecelia sighed. “Let’s gather everyone, we will talk about what transpired.”

  Moving to an area that was more suitable to sit and speak, Leo was thankful to see that both Bjorn and Ron were doing okay—noting that they had both gained a level. Leo sat the prisoner down against a wall where everyone could see him.

  “Alright,” Bjorn began, “let’s talk.”

  Cecelia gave them the run down of what happened. Explaining the new form of ant, and the subsequent fight with the level 10 Soldier. Of how she was injured but then saved by Leo.

  Bjorn cut in and asked why Cecelia didn’t let “the kid” fight the Soldier Antling, but she shook her head and said that she needed to grow stronger. Bjorn grumbled a little but ultimately accepted the answer, nodding once, and gesturing for her to continue.

  Continuing, she spoke of the men that approached them. How at first they were hiding but were quickly forced out. She explained how she tried to keep the situation relatively calm, and the false friendship promised of the criminal group.

  “Then he said we could leave.” She raised a finger. “With one condition.”

  “The condition being?” Ashley asked with rapt attention.

  “That they take our healer.”

  Ashley’s face dropped, looking towards Leo instinctively.

  He gave her a gentle smile, knowing her fear of abandonment still held a shackled grip on her heart. “I couldn’t allow that.”

  Continuing her story, she spoke of the bloodshed, and of Jasper taking off. Her face was calm but her hands were somewhat shaking as she recounted the tale.

  Not out of trauma. From anger.

  Cecelia truly felt no remorse for killing those men. A feeling he'd need to adopt if he wanted to keep his friends safe.

  The group's faces were solemn, no one asking any questions. The continued reality of how likely it was they’d fight for their lives against a fellow human added to the weight they already carried. Lena was quietly sobbing as the tale reached its end.

  “We took this one to question,” she explained, gesturing to the warrior, who had been silently listening the whole time.

  Bjorn rubbed his brow, eyes heavy with grim resolve. He fixed the prisoner with a cold stare.

  “Alright, let’s hear what you’ve got to say.”

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