The three humanoid shadows clawing over the edge of the slope had rifles strapped behind their backs, so it didn't matter they were all still three hundred metres away.

  Sparrow raised his own rifle and fired into the leader's front foot, making the girl stumble, falter—she didn't fall. Cracking her neck, she advanced steadily with blood staining the snow behind her, and none of her subordinates even so much as at the knowledge that there was a sniper above the bell tower.

  Throwing his rifle over his back, he warped down to the closest roof and then to the edge of the village, Ninmah shouting at him to wait up from behind. The children who'd been worm dancing just a bit earlier were all already gathered around the fences, hands wrung around the vertical wooden rods, trying to steal peeks at the visitors without actually going past the tall walls—he’d told them all not to go beyond the fences as part of their training to learn how to take cover from enemy fire—but they were naturally curious, and he couldn't quite blame them for it.

  Compared to the Silver Ant Scouts, the Carpenter Ant Guards, and the Mortar Ant Troops they'd seen thus far, they'd only ever seen one bullet ant soldier with teeth black as obsidian.

  Ninmah whispered, hugging his arm as he stood dead centre in the middle of the archway leading into the village; the elders around him wore similarly hesitant expressions, though their bows and rifles were aimed forward at the approaching battalion.

  Then she trailed off, squeezing his arm even tighter.

  she breathed.

  he said, shaking his head as he took one step out of the village, meeting the three soldiers in the snow.

  Utu and Minki, standing side by side, gave him strange and uncertain looks.

  Utu said, gulping aloud.

  he said plainly,

  Most of the children swivelled their heads to glance at him, but only for a few seconds; the three Bullet Ant Soldiers in long fur coats, thin army trousers, and tattered tunics were shivering from head to toe, cold vapour clouds forming with every breath. Their leader—the girl whose foot he shot from three hundred metres away—stopped a few paces before him and the giant rectangular gate, dark eyes hollow and sunken. Evidently, they’d all spent the better part of the week brute-forcing the slope, and that couldn’t mean anything good for their health.

  The leader and the other two soldiers managed only a short, curt bow before falling flat on their faces, making soft in the snow.

  Immediately, Ninmah shouted and waved at the elders to warp out, beginning the standard warming procedures. Hijo and Enli shooed the children to get back to their usual chores while Ammu, Nammu, and Immu each picked up one of the soldiers, carrying them across their shoulders. Utu picked up the rifles they dropped, and Ninmah started hurrying them towards the library—ever since the Worm Mages nursed Minki back to life in the library, it’d become the default ‘infirmary’ for dealing with all sorts of injuries sustained during Boreus hunts. All the basic medical supplies were already there; the three of them just needed to be thrown onto the spare beds, and everyone else would take care of them.

  For his part, Sparrow simply watched as the three of them were hauled away at top speed, his eyes still latched onto the distant edge of the slope.

  He counted one minute.

  Then two minutes.

  Then ten more, until he was sure nobody else would claw over the edge—and then he warped after Ninmah and the others.

  It wasn’t until late at night, past dinner time—while Ninmah was teaching Sparrow and Minki how to read by the table in the centre of the library—that the three Bullet Ant Soldiers snapped upright on their beds all at once.

  ‘Clockwork’ was the word he’d use to describe their coordination, but for how much Ninmah and Minki and the elders lounging around the library flinched as they noticed the movement in the corner of their eyes, he wasn’t all too surprised. Bullet Ant Soldiers were always trained to wake sharply at eight, and it didn’t matter if it wasn’t eight in the morning. Timing was important, discipline even more; even injured and frostbitten after however many long days they’d spent clawing up the slope, their training took priority over their wellbeing.

  While Ninmah and Minki shot up from their chairs, all of the elders immediately warped in a wide berth around the three beds they’d laid out next to a window. Sparrow remained seated with his bandaged hands in a snowboard. He was just about to practise spelling a complicated word by listening to Ninmah’s pronunciation alone, so, frankly, he was a bit irritated that the three of them woke up on time—but if it were him on the bed, in their situation, he probably would’ve woken up at the exact same time.

  Rubbing the back of his neck, he rose slowly and picked up his rifle, warping over to join the rest of the elders as they stood around the blank-eyed soldiers.

  For a few seconds, nobody spoke as the soldiers stared out the window at the village, watching snow falling gently, winds blowing softly—then all three of them snapped their heads back around, hands reaching over their shoulders for something that wasn’t there.

  Their faces immediately darkened, and Sparrow snapped his fingers at Utu.

  he said, much to Utu’s confusion. The one-eyed boy who’d been inspecting and playing with their rifles for the better half of the day tilted his head.

  Utu asked, obviously hesitant.

  Utu obliged without any more pushback, and Sparrow was grateful for it. He was sure the three soldiers were, too, even if they showed no emotion as they each caught their rifles out of the air.

  For Bullet Ant Soldiers, their rifles were their blood and body, their life and spirit. To part with one meant losing a part of themselves, and that, above all else, was perhaps the only thing—no matter how unlikely—that could agitate a Bullet Ant Soldier into flying off in a murderous rage.

  Ironically, they’d all be safer by returning the rifles to the Bullet Ant Soldiers.

  Seeing the three of them inspect their rifles without a care in the world, the elders started warping around the library, bringing in all sorts of extra blankets, pillows, hot drinks, and snow vegetables served in baskets. They probably felt they weren’t in any danger of being shot or stabbed, and they’d be correct, but… if the soldiers were anything like him, they wouldn’t accept a single thing the Worm Mages were giving them.

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  And, as expected, they immediately swung their legs off their beds, strapping their rifles behind them and throwing off their blankets as they stood at attention.

  Sparrow stood at attention as well, if not only to return the proper greeting to his leader. He knew all three of them: at the back on the left, with her hair parted to one side and clipped with a hairpin, was the battalion’s designated scout nicknamed ‘Peregrine’ for her speed. At the back on the right, whose messy bangs fell over his eyes and who wore a metal ear prosthetic to replace the one chewed off by a giant insect, was the battalion’s designated strategist nicknamed ‘Crow’ for his keen mind for tactics. Standing in front, with her long hair flowing loose and sporting a massive burn mark over her left eye, was the battalion’s designated leader and vanguard nicknamed ‘Harpy’ for her pure and unrivalled strength—she was the one whose foot he shot this morning, but, as expected for the leader of the First Bullet Ant Battalion, she didn’t seem a single bit bothered by the pain even if her foot was bandaged now.

  He’d worked and fought with them many, many times before as the battalion’s designated marksman. He of all people knew just how resilient they were, and, subsequently, how powerful the Boreus really were that only the three of them were still standing before him.

  If the other sixteen soldiers of the First Bullet Ant Battalion were still alive, the General would’ve sent them up with the three of them.

  Ninmah said, coughing into her fist as she stepped up, standing next to Sparrow to face Harpy at eye-level. All grunt soldiers in the Forward Army were about the same age, after all; the oldest in the room was still Minki at fifteen, but the youngest was Peregrine, at… thirteen. Sparrow wasn’t actually sure.

  Sparrow interrupted, and all three of them turned their eyes on him, brows furrowing slightly. They must’ve not expected to hear a warping voice that was distinctly his.

  Ninmah whirled to blink at him—as did the other elders—but Harpy didn’t waste a second. She reached into her fur coat and pulled out two items: a folded letter sealed with the black wax crest of the Hagi'Shar Forward Army, and a small cube wrapped in simple parchment.

  Sparrow nodded back at Ninmah, trying to give her his best ‘they won't bite’ look.

  It took her a while, but eventually she plucked both items from Harpy's hand, her azure eyes clouding with hesitation. The wax seal cracked with just a little press down the centre, and she unfolded the letter to immediately begin scanning its contents.

  Everyone else held their breath.

  she recited, clear and loud.

  Utu and the others shivered. Ninmah stopped reading, eyes wide as she stared at Sparrow, but he was just as surprised himself. He was he'd shot Kuraku eight times in the heart. He'd even walked up to see if she was burning in the fire, and he'd left only after he was certain her pulse was gone. After all, confirming high-value human kills was one of the very first things all Bullet Ant Soldiers learned in training.

  Could he have made a mistake?

  He couldn't have.

  Unless… the General…

  he muttered, shaking his head as he looked straight ahead at Harpy. None of the Bullet Ant Soldiers seemed at all surprised to hear their Vice-General was still alive.

  Ninmah stared at him for a little while longer before coughing into her first.

  The elders tensed up. Ninmah bit her lips and looked hesitant to continue, but Sparrow and Minki nodded at her to keep going.

  she said, biting on each and every word.

  Minki's eyes were suddenly dull. A colourless, emotionless grey. It didn't matter that the elders were suddenly whispering amongst themselves, seemingly excited that neither him nor Minki would have to leave Immanu—Sparrow scowled and dipped his head at Ninmah to quickly continue, because there was simply no way the General would say such a thing.

  Not without requesting something else in return, at least.

  Ninmah said sharply, making the elders around her pause their quiet celebrations.

  With that, Harpy, Peregrine, and Crow slammed the stock of their rifles into the ground, standing at full attention and making the elders jump in the process. Their chins were tucked, their eyes were closed; Sparrow couldn’t help but twitch an eye himself.

  Peregrine and Crow dipping their heads weren’t unusual, but Harpy doing the same meant something very, very different.

  Ninmah said, looking back and forth between Harpy and the letter, chewing her lips.

  Harpy bowed even lower, and so did the other two behind her.

  Ninmah said quickly, eyes glazing over the rest of the letter.

  Ninmah raised her brow at that, and Sparrow could understand why.

  It almost sounded too good to be true, and the General he knew lied.

  Ninmah finished, her hands reaching the end of the letter. Then she looked up from the letter, the cube sitting on her thumb.

  He took the cube from her and popped it into his mouth, not bothering to check if it could be laced with poison or anything of the sort.

  When he’d been ordered to stay behind half a year ago, the General had given him the exact same gift—but this one was far, more satiating than the one he’d eaten before.

  [Points: 118 → 479]

  Ninmah recited.