The Mantis Village's Response

The young mantis shouted his suspicions the moment he entered the village.

His cries drew the attention of many mantises. His terror seemed far too genuine to be an act, leaving the others little choice but to believe him.

They, too, recalled the strange occurrences that had begun a few days earlier.

Outsiders? Yes, there had indeed been some.

Even hunters who paid little attention to outside affairs occasionally glimpsed those unknown beings emerging from underground.

They wore equipment no one had ever seen, emerging from underground in groups of two or three, only to return below shortly afterward. No one could make sense of them.

"An invasion? Is that really true?"

"Another enemy? Can we hold them off?"

"We can't ignore this. We must send more scouts to investigate."

The mantises began whispering among themselves. Life in the village was already hard, and now there might be a new threat.

Gradually, some among the crowd began suggesting that the tribe strike first to gain the advantage.

They could not let outsiders seize what little territory they had left to survive on.

That suggestion quickly won the other mantises' approval. Their fighting spirit rose, and they were already preparing to set out.

"Enough!"

A commanding voice rang out, and the agitated crowd instantly fell silent.

The speaker emerged from the largest house in the village. He was a dark green mantis who towered over his kin in both height and bulk.

He had a powerful build, and several scars marked his carapace. Those scars had come from the most terrifying giant centipedes in the entire cavern.

"Chief!"

"Chief Mortas!"

The mantises cried out. Their chief, who normally appeared only on important occasions, had actually emerged because of their discussion of the outsiders.

Many of the mantises present had never seen their chief before, including Quyin, who had brought the news.

"Chief, please hear me out." The mantis who had started it all still refused to let the matter drop.

Certain of what he had seen, he was determined to speak.

The mantis chief did not rush to contradict him. He simply walked forward in silence.

As the chief approached, the mantis's voice grew quieter and quieter. He even took several trembling steps back.

The sheer pressure of the chief's movements was enough to silence him completely.

This was Mortas, lord of the mantises and master of the entire lush cavern.

"Quyin, come with me." With those words, Mortas turned and walked back into the house without looking back.

His tone was perfectly calm, yet it carried an authority that allowed no argument.

The surrounding mantises all looked at Quyin. Their meaning was clear.

He had brought the news back. He had to go.

Under that immense pressure, Quyin began to move.

Not just anyone was entitled to enter the chief's home. Filled with apprehension, he cautiously surveyed his surroundings.

Aside from being slightly larger, it was as plain as every other mantis home, containing weapons and stockpiled food.

Life-or rather, survival-forced them to make sacrifices.

The only decorations to be found here were insect beast materials the hunters had obtained on their own hunts.

The difference was that every seemingly simple decoration on these walls testified to the chief's strength.

An intact specimen of a beast's armored shell, an enormous fang taller than three tribesmen stacked together, and a jar filled to the brim with the deadliest venom of the most cautious predator.

Quyin began trembling involuntarily. He was only a scout, and a newly appointed one at that.

Yet he had shown no caution in interpreting what he had discovered, instinctively assuming things were exactly as he believed.

Only now did he realize how foolish it was to speak so carelessly before the strongest hunter in the entire cavern.

After letting Quyin into his home, Mortas had remained by the window, gazing out at the familiar scene beyond.

His eyes held more than a warrior's ferocity. Above all, they held an ancient wisdom.

Indeed, Mortas was not only a powerful warrior. He also possessed a keener instinct for matters requiring wisdom than other mantises did.

He had caught the scent of danger in this incident.

On the one hand, having finally stopped the wildfire of rumors, Mortas breathed a deep sigh of relief beneath his resolute exterior.

On the other, Mortas felt utterly exhausted. He had become chief in accordance with ancient traditions.

Yet those traditions offered him no help with the problems he now faced.

It had all begun not long ago. That day, the ground had suddenly trembled, and one opening after another had appeared, leading underground.

Many tribesmen claimed to have witnessed black warriors emerging from below.

They were utterly unlike the mantises, with fierce eyes and smaller individuals beside them who looked like attendants.

Although it looked as though the warriors were protecting those smaller companions, there was no doubt they belonged to the same tribe.

Fortunately, those unfamiliar insects had made no further moves. After looking around near the openings for a while, they had immediately returned below.

But as time passed, this happened more and more often. Five or six such openings had already appeared throughout the lower level.

Mortas found the matter incredibly difficult to handle. As chief, he had learned far more from his predecessors than ordinary tribesmen knew.

The mantis tribe had, in fact, always lived and multiplied upon the corpse of a vast, fallen kingdom.

He still could not forget his shock upon seeing that enormous ancient map as a child.

The forest he had lived in all his life was merely a tiny patch on that map, occupying less than a twentieth of its territory.

Every other area was strictly forbidden, especially the mountaintop and the depths beneath the mountain.

Unfortunately, these outsiders had come from underground.

Although the current tribe consisted entirely of powerful "hunters," that was merely a flattering way of saying they had no choice but to live by hunting.

Mortas's gaze darkened. His clan was not ready at all.

There was no doubt that those insects from underground had been gathering information over the past few days.

But for what purpose?

He knew nothing of their circumstances.

How many of those unfamiliar insects were there? What had brought them here? If they wanted war, could the mantises fight back?

Indeed, after all his agonizing, their fighting strength was what worried Mortas most.

He was not blindly confident.

High in the upper reaches of the lush cavern, above the treetops where almost nothing lived, lay a forbidden place.

For generations, no mantis except the reigning chief had been permitted to go up there. It was absolutely off-limits.

Some mantises had speculated about what lay above, but they would never have imagined what was really there.

Mortas abruptly opened his eyes. He realized he could not let this continue.

"Quyin, tell me everything that happened today, exactly as it happened."

"Y-yes, Chief." Quyin struggled to keep his voice from trembling. "As usual, I went down to the cavern's lower level to investigate the insect beasts' movements..."

Mortas listened carefully, missing no detail, but the more he heard, the more alarmed he became.

"These outsiders are that strong? A team of just three can rampage through the entire lower level?"

In Quyin's account, each black warrior was a match for a hundred opponents. Unlike hunters, who relied on all manner of traps and techniques, they simply crushed everything through brute strength.

It was unbelievable. By the end, even the seemingly fragile Fireflies had taken on a dangerous air in the chief's eyes.

Although the lower level was a gathering place for weaker creatures, it still contained plenty of troublesome prey.

Especially those centipede beasts, with bodies several meters long and countless sharp fangs and claws.

Yet they had proven utterly helpless against those outsiders. Even the finest mantis hunters needed at least ten of their number and extensive planning to bring one down.

More importantly, it had taken only a casual blow from a single warrior.

Could that one warrior be the strongest member of their tribe?

"Impossible!"

Mortas immediately realized that if war truly broke out, the mantises would lose!

"Take me there." Mortas suddenly turned, enunciating each word. "I want to meet them myself."

Quyin fell silent for a moment. Mortas showed no impatience and repeated what he had just said.

"I want to meet these outsiders myself."