It took Sparrow three hours of sliding down the slope, piercing through the sea of clouds, and then eight hours of non-stop warping before he even caught the glimpse of the Forward Army’s entrenched outpost at the border of Hagi’Shar.

  The outpost was as fortified as any: a rough collection of low fungus barracks, tall mushroom storehouses for heavy weaponry, and twenty-metre-tall walls constructed entirely out of fast-growing vines. Even peering at its vague silhouette through the violent blizzard, he couldn’t quite believe how massive it was. The entire Forward Army must’ve worked to construct it as the ultimate impenetrable fortress, and it showed, with the tens of thousands of Boreus carcasses just littering the snowy fields outside the walls.

  He didn’t need his nose to taste the scent of rotting flesh, spent bullet casings, and lingering mortar smoke in the air—just as the General had said in his letter, while the Worm Mages were striking at the heart of the Boreus, the Forward Army must’ve been drawing an incredible amount of attention and numbers away from their nest. He could believe it if the General were to tell him there were actually a hundred thousand Boreus buried deep beneath the snow.

  Closing in on the giant front gate, he spotted ten, twenty, thirty soldiers on the ramparts aiming their rifles down at him. His own rifle was slung behind him, but they were likely more wary of the three coffins he was dragging through the snow—they would’ve also shot him from much farther away were they given orders to hold the walls. That he was allowed to get this close to the front gate meant his presence was expected, and, to that end, his arrival had likely been predicted down to the very hour.

  He hadn’t noticed any scouts watching him on the way here, but the General was already sitting on a wooden stool before the front gate, snow and hail falling him as though he were surrounded by an invisible barrier.

  Narrowing his eyes, he walked and walked until he was five metres before the General, ten metres before the giant front gate. Now, a hundred soldiers were on the ramparts pointing their rifles down at him, but he elected to ignore them. They weren’t going to shoot without a command, and he could see all four of the General’s hands; if he felt any killing pressure, he’d simply warp away preemptively.

  So he flung the chains over, sent the coffins sliding forward, and the General slammed his boot on Harpy’s coffin with a loud to stop it in its tracks.

  “... It is good to see you again, Sparrow,” the General said, fixing him with a stony gaze.

  he said, dipping his head slightly as he stood at attention, arms pressed to his sides.

  If the General felt any unease hearing his voice without seeing his lips part, it didn’t show. “The Hagi’Shar Forward Army’s objective is complete, then,” he said, nodding slowly. “If the Boreus can no longer rally their forces, we do not even need to stay here to exterminate their remnants. The Attini Empire’s Swarmsteel factories can move in and begin harvesting the local resources without worry of any coordinated attacks.”

  “And how was your first bout with a Mutant-Class?” he asked, his stern look melting away a little as he looked down at the coffins. “It must have been a terrifically powerful opponent to have injured your back as so. What were its abilities? I must know so I can report the information back to the Capital, and the Royal Ayapucha Military Academy can then store the information for future reference should another Forward Army ever come across another Boreus Mutant-Class.”

  Sparrow tilted his head. He didn’t think he’d been walking with a limp, but somehow, the General noticed the bandages wrapped under his cloak and around his torso.

  he began, stealing a glance at the soldiers on the rampart as he did.

  The General closed his eyes and held his chin, nodding absentmindedly. “If you were to appraise its strength, how strong would it be? Did it possess the capability to defeat one of the Capital’s Spore Knights?”

  he said.

  “I see. That is reassuring to hear.” Then he dipped his head to look at Harpy’s coffin, eyes still closed. “And… how did you defeat it in the end? Did chitin-piercing bullets work on its armour?”

  Sparrow regarded the coffins with a slow nod, giving the dead their due respects.

  “It a bug of the hinterlands, yes,” the General murmured. “What of its carcass, then? Has it been properly disposed of? If the proper procedures are not taken, a stray bug could consume it, and we would risk the emergence of another Mutant-Class.”

  he said plainly.

  “That would be greatly appreciated. Depending on how it is processed, the carcass of an S-Rank Mutant-Class flesh can yield up to several thousand points and significantly enhance a Forward Army’s strength.”

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  “What are your plans henceforth, Sparrow?”

  He raised his head, answering with a firm look.

  he said, bowing slightly.

  “In the letter I sent you, I mentioned I would only pretend Immanu does not exist if the brood nest is exterminated my Bullet Ant Soldiers are returned safe and sound,” the General said, equally as cool and composed. “My Bullet Ant Soldiers are dead. What am I to make of their bodies?”

  The General shrugged. “Very well. And I accept your request to leave the empire and return to the village under one condition.”

  Sparrow held his breath.

  “The Whiteworm Class systems,” the General said, leaning forward and planting his chin on one of his fists. “I have heard of their capabilities, but I do not particularly care for the Worm Mages themselves. I will promise to use all my authority to keep them hidden from the rest of the continent as long as I can get my hands on at least fifty Whiteworm Class systems—fifty is more than enough for the Attini Empire’s best researchers to dismantle and make use of for the good of all humankind.”

  Sparrow’s brows knitted, and his mouth twisted.

  The General was asking for the one thing he couldn’t give.

  he said, biting his teeth, knowing there was no point in lying. The General was a shrewd man. He’d been seen through in an instant.

  “Then give me thirty Worm Mages. I do not much care for transplanting their systems directly into my soldiers, anyways. Even just dismantling the raw systems in each Worm Mage for research would help improve the empire's own systems.”

  “How many Worm Mages are there in Immanu?”

  “Thirty is less than a third of their population. Even children being drafted for war typically account for more than a third of a town’s population.”

  The General looked at him for a long time, his four arms stiff as statues, his oil-black hair ruffling in the blizzard winds.

  Then he leaned back on his stool, lifting his boot off Harpy’s coffin.

  “... Do you remember your childhood, Sparrow?” he asked.

  Sparrow didn’t answer.

  “When I was eight, my coastal town of Prawan was consumed by the Crawling Seas. It was one of the first coastal towns to fall on the southwestern coastline, and the only children that made it out of Prawan was me and Kuraku,” he continued, tilting his head back calmly. “She was a classmate and the daughter of a friend of my father’s. Her father made me promise to protect her, so I did. We spent two years running from shelter to shelter before we arrived at the Attini Empire. There, we were taken into the military, and you already know this story.”

  The General raised one of his arms. “We served one year as grunt Carpenter Ant Guards,” he said, raising his second, third, and fourth arm, “one year as Silver Ant Scouts, two years as Bullet Ant Soldiers, and then, four years ago, we were embroiled in a battle in the far southern front where our bodies… changed. Kuraku was promoted to the Explosive Ant Class, and I was personally promoted by the Empress herself to become one of the Capital’s Twelve Forward Army Generals.”

  Then he closed his eyes, breathing out a soft sigh.

  Sparrow didn’t dare interrupt.

  “All of my friends and comrades have died in battle,” he said, “and still humanity is no closer to figuring out what the Swarm actually wants. We do not know where they came from, how many they number, and whether there is a greater force behind even the Six Greater Insect Gods—the magic gods of this world. This ‘war’ we fight is a dead-end war that we will eventually lose unless we are able to create a miracle in an extremely short amount of time, before the Swarm can adapt to it—and is that not something the Whiteworm Class can afford us? ‘Miracles’, in the truest sense of the word?”

  “Hundreds of thousands suffer while the Worm Mages enjoy their peace in the mountains,” he continued plainly, opening his eyes slowly to glower down at Sparrow. “It is not right, Sparrow. Kuraku was heavy-handed in her methods to obtain your Whiteworm Class, I will admit, but is her rage not justified? People with no ability know just how much an ability is worth its weight in gold, and in my eyes, the Whiteworm Class systems are weapons that turn the tides of war. They create miracles… and you, an anti-human Bullet Ant Soldier who knows not the weight of life, would consider thirty of them more important than the ability to create a miracle for the rest of humanity?”

  … It really was strange, after all.

  The General’s words would’ve had him marching back to Immanu to take the Worm Mages’ lives just a short half a year ago, but in the blizzard now, he stood, stewing in feelings he lacked the vocabulary to explain.

  It was oddly calming to be surrounded by frost, and the thought of filling his stomach once more with Immanu’s plain cooking felt welcoming.

  He wanted to go back and see everyone.

  He wanted to hunt with Utu again.

  He wanted to run with Minki again.

  He wanted to read with Ninmah again.

  If thirty Worm Mages had to die for the ‘peace’ he wanted, it wouldn’t be any peace at all.

  he said, lifting his head, hardening his resolve.

  And if the General or any of the soldiers above showed any amount of killing pressure, he’d immediately warp away, prioritising his health.

  He didn’t believe any of them would be able to hit him with an attack the way he was now.

  So when the General eventually sighed, leaning forward in his stool—

  He didn’t expect a chitin-piercing bullet to fire out of Harpy’s coffin, ripping into his waist and making him topple over.

  “When I was promoted to a Forward Army General, the Empress herself made certain my class was kept secret from everyone, even amongst Her Four Families and her closest confidants, by switching me from Forward Army to Forward Army every single year,” the General said, standing slowly, hands on his knees. “My body mutated in battle four years ago, when I faced the Great Insect God of the South. I was killed that day—and brought back to life when the Great Insect God stepped over my corpse, splashing me with her blood. It changed my body. Her bioarcanic essence allowed my Ant Class to evolve into an extremely rare class very few men in the empire have. Some in the Attini Empire call it a blasphemy against life itself, but frankly, to this day, I still do not quite understand what the true limits of my class are. I hardly need to know.”

  Then, two hands smashed through the lid of Harpy’s coffins, and two more from Peregrine’s and Crow’s coffins as well; the three Bullet Ant Soldiers sat up straight, their bandages falling off, their stitches tearing. Their eyes were milky white as webs of pulsating, squirming fungus filled up the holes in their bodies.

  They were dead, and yet they were not.

  “... The Capital gave me only three thousand children to conquer Hagi’Shar with, because as long as I am here, we can lose,” the General said, pointing a single finger at him; three Bullet Ant Soldiers and a hundred undead guards raised their rifles all at once. “I possess the Zombie Ant Class, and I hereby declare former Bullet Ant Soldier, designated ‘Sparrow’, as an enemy of the Attini Empire. For the good of all humankind, I have the Worm Mages’ strength, dead or alive—and you will not stand in my way.”

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