The ringing in my ears was vexing. That persistent feeling in the early morning, akin to a fly buzzing near my head. Maybe it was the echo of footsteps in the dungeon, or just accumulated fatigue. It might also have been the sound produced by the ants, but I didn't think that at the moment.
The environment I traversed was so dark that a couple of times I had the impression someone was chasing me. The thick air also reminded me that I had no allies in this place. I was alone.
If an incident occurred, no one would know I was dead. Except for Hestia and possibly Rose, there would be no one who cared sufficiently about me to grieve. This reflection, combined with my own goals and ideals, made me give up the idea of helping Lili.
However, in that darkness, as I fiddled with the chains on my sword, I discerned something in the wall's curvature, just at the periphery of my vision. There, where the rock opened into a fissure, I saw what appeared to be a set of thin sticks.
My initial thought was that they were some peculiar root or branch. The dungeon normally would spit such inconsequential details from the ground. I also recalled scenes from the anime—on certain floors, one could find entire forests. Particularly on floor 18. It was renowned as a safe place where no monsters spawned. In that place called Under Resort, adventurers could usually breathe easily.
I wouldn't reach such a location anytime soon, so I suppressed my desire to witness that scene firsthand.
That being said, it wasn't truly unusual to see a few sticks protruding from the rock. Not weird at all. Wait... why are they moving?!
I leapt like a needle pricking my butt.
I halted, fixed my gaze better, and my perception did the rest. It was as if the world became slightly more lucid. Those sticks were not brown like a root, but crimson. Crimson like blood. And the tip, instead of being slender like a twig, was somewhat more rounded. My mind immediately catalogued the information.
Ah. Antennae.
I silently scolded myself. It shouldn't have taken me so long to reach that conclusion. Killer ants habitually concealed themselves in crevices, utilizing shadows and openings to remain undetected. Inexperienced adventurers would eat that trap over and over again. They would walk directly into an ambush simply because they never realized that danger was already on their side.
Stealthy, sometimes nearly imperceptible. But this one before me was an idiot.
This particular ant was evidently new to this "being stealthy" thing. It hadn't bothered to hide its antennae. It was as if it had disregarded the primary lesson in the Killer Ant handbook: Don't stick your head out if you don't want it cut off.
―Kirik!
That chirping sound grew more strident in my ears. As an adventurer encountering them for the first time, I hadn't noticed it before, but that sound actually belonged from the Killer Ants.
I recalled Rose's lessons: "A killer ant's antennae are its radar. If you see it, it has already spotted you."
Maybe this ant wasn't as dumb as I initially thought. There was just no need to remain hidden anymore.
Slowly, I released my grip on my sword. The metal produced a faint scraping sound as it was freed. It was a barely audible noise. But in the silence of the dungeon, the ant's antennae immediately tensed.
Gradually, the bug began to come out of hidding. And there, an ant the size of a large dog regarded me. Its body, covered in that hard, shiny exoskeleton, looked like metal armor more than anything else. Its eyes, entirely black, were the only thing that truly stood out. They were empty, cold eyes.
And the mandibles, those sharp things capable of cleaving stone if they wanted to, produced a slight clicking sound when they opened and closed.
But since it was me and life had never treated me well, I almost expected something else.
With a swift glance, I detected movement in the corridor to my right. Another ant. To worsen matters, I heard a faint rustling behind me. I rotated my head just enough to confirm that, indeed, another was approaching from my rear. They were obstructing my escape routes.
Killer ants were renowned for more than just their size and endurance. They possessed the ability to emit pheromones. These pheromones essentially served as a distress signal. They would call others of their kind when things went bad. The typical response would be to employ them when on the brink of defeat, but the ant before me had already released these pheromones without even starting the fight.
Which meant that the one confronting me was either exceedingly paranoid, or I was about to experience a truly unfortunate day.
Well, sometimes there's no alternative but to strike first.
I swung the blade of my sword at the ant's neck in front of me. The sound of the blade slicing through the air lulled me into a false sense of security. I anticipated the strike would be clean and quick. But...
My sword clanged against its exoskeleton, reverberating with a dry snap, but failed to penetrate. The blade ricocheted off.
"Shit..."
The exoskeleton transformed them into legged tanks, hard as a metal barrier.
If an adventurer sought to vanquish them, it wasn't a matter of brute force. One had to target the joints, those little weak spots where their natural armor diminished and flesh was more exposed.
"Of course... why should it be easy?"
The other two were already close enough that sweat began to dampen my forehead. The air was getting so thick I felt like I could cut through it with a knife.
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