Itekan glared at the retreating beast. To his surprise, it slowly backed off, turning around before disappearing into the dark. He didn't relax. Not yet. He stood frozen, vigilant, for several long minutes until he was sure they were truly gone.
Finally, his legs gave out beneath him and he sank to the ground, breath ragged. Apart from the three ants crushed by the tree, he had killed two more himself. Even so, the colony still had the advantage.
They probably thought he was about to churn them into butter.
Lucky.
He tilted his head back and stared at the star-choked night sky. Then, as if a bolt of lightning struck his thoughts, he remembered why he'd been dropped here in the first place. The egg. Whatever that Chimera Ant egg was supposed to be… he had no clue.
A wave of resolve surged through him. Itekan pushed to his feet, refreshed. He moved in the same direction the ants had retreated, following their tracks deeper into the heart of the forest—until those tracks led to an ominous cave, darker than even the cursed woods behind him.
For a long moment, he stood at its mouth, hesitant. Doubt clawed at him. But then he thought of his father, of the shame he had probably already brought him. He clenched his teeth and, without another word, stepped inside.
Instantly, darkness swallowed him whole. His vision was stripped away, replaced by a suffocating void. He felt as though he'd walked into an endless abyss. As he moved cautiously forward, his foot bumped against something soft. Kneeling with his makeshift sword in hand, he reached down and touched it—it was fleshy. Definitely not the hard bark-like texture of the Chimera Ants.
He lifted it carefully. That's when two massive eyes snapped open. They gleamed so brightly in the pitch dark that it felt as though he was staring directly at twin suns. He flinched, quickly averting his gaze. He hadn't expected this—but this worm-like creature, with its radiant eyes, would be useful.
Using its glow to guide him, Itekan pressed on deeper into the cave. Eventually, he reached a Y-shaped junction. Without hesitation, he took the right path.
Minutes passed before a cold liquid splashed onto his shoulder. His stomach turned. Slowly, he raised the worm's glowing gaze upward.
There, hanging from the ceiling, was the most grotesque abomination he had ever laid eyes on. It had the elongated head of a snake, bat-like wings folded against a grotesque torso, and the lower body of an ant. The creature had been watching him. Waiting. The moment Itekan chose this path, it had made its move.
Suddenly, his arm dropped limp. Panic exploded in his chest. He couldn't move. Poison. Paralysis.
His breath seized. He tried to scream, but the air wouldn't leave his lungs—they'd frozen too. His chest ached as his lungs fought uselessly to draw breath.
Above, the creature opened its mouth wide, more saliva dripping down onto Itekan. Slowly, deliberately, it began to descend to swallow him whole.
Before he could even process the end approaching, the creature's head toppled to the ground beside him with a sickening thud. Its body shuddered forward, still moving out of sheer inertia—before realization of death finally stopped it cold.
It had taken less than a second.
Itekan lay motionless, staring blankly. He had brushed shoulders with death.
In that instant, the darkness shattered around him. He was outside again, cradled in Carpathia's arms. He still couldn't move, but sweet air finally trickled back into his starving lungs.
"Well done," Carpathia said, smiling.
Itekan frowned, confusion threading through the adrenaline haze. He hadn't even retrieved the egg… yet here was praise?
"I wasn't even expecting you to make it that far into the cave on your first try. I'm impressed," Carpathia said, still smiling.
Itekan's mind spun. He'd been expected to fail from the beginning? This was an impossible task. His jaw clenched, and he prepared to force words past paralyzed lips.
But Carpathia cut him off. "We'll go again tomorrow. Same time. I expect an even better result than today, my son." His voice remained maddeningly pleasant as the distant horizon lightened. The first rays of dawn split the sky.
Well, he'd be damned.
He was going to have to do this hell all over again tomorrow.
He tried to move, to signal his protest.
"Don't worry," Carpathia said calmly. "The paralysis will wear off soon."
Thankfully, within minutes of his father's assurance, feeling slowly returned to his fingers. He flexed his hand gingerly, newfound respect blooming for the deformed and amputees of the world.
"Well then, let's head home, shall we?" Carpathia offered lightly. In a blink, they dissolved into a swirl of dark mist and vanished from sight.
---
The next few days cemented a routine straight from hell.
At the bleak hour of 3 a.m., Itekan was sent to the Chimera Ant forest. That ungodly hour wasn't random—during these early hours, the younger ants were responsible for running the colony: gathering food, guarding territory, and defending the eggs. His father had timed it perfectly. He'd been watching, waiting for the moment when the elders left and the younger ones filled their roles. Only then had he hurled Itekan into the fray.
After narrowly surviving each encounter, Itekan would spend three hours training martial arts under his father's stern, unyielding gaze. From there, he was sent to the cliffside to absorb spiritual energy, sitting in still meditation for six hours straight. He ate only twice—morning and evening after his combat lessons.
This cycle persisted relentlessly for a month. Finally, after endless battles and grueling trials, Itekan reached the deepest part of the cave—the Queen's chambers.
Crouched behind a jagged rock, he observed two towering Chimera Ants standing guard over the passage that led directly to the Queen and her eggs. These sentries were vastly larger than their kin. Itekan's jaw tightened. These were no ordinary soldiers—they were the Queen's elite guards. No doubt they wielded special abilities.
He needed to know what those abilities were.
Silently, he picked up a stone, channeled a thin strand of spiritual energy into it, and hurled it at the nearest guard.
The stone struck with a loud clang—yet the guard didn't so much as flinch.
Undeterred, Itekan grabbed another stone and launched it again. Another sharp clang, and again, the guard didn't budge.
Itekan smirked in admiration of its discipline. But he had seen what he needed. Just before the stone hit, a patch of the guard's exoskeleton had shimmered with a dark, metallic sheen.
Metal, huh? he thought, a grin curling on his lips.
Fine. I'll just burn it down.