"So, our lord has gained new followers."
At the vast ruins in the center of the Black Shell Plains, Gron was reviewing his scouting teams' intelligence in the expedition's temporary camp.
The other regions were unchanged, but the report from the Fungal Wastes came as quite a surprise.
The lush forest, which he had expected to be the hardest to conquer, had actually chosen to pledge its allegiance.
This went far beyond Gron's expectations.
"Our lord intervened personally. No, it could hardly even be called an intervention. His mere appearance won the mantises' loyalty."
He read the report over and over, still unable to believe it. He had originally planned to attack from both sides once he opened a route from the Black Shell Plains to the Fungal Wastes.
Yet this milestone he had set for himself had been reached just like that.
Taking out a secret letter concealed beneath his armor, Gron burned it and shook his head with a bitter smile. "My lord, you are far too merciful. How can we possibly accept such immense kindness?"
In the report Gron held, the captain responsible for scouting the Fungal Wastes had made no alterations, recording every detail of what had happened.
From his initial strategy to his encounter with the mantises, and finally to everything the god had said.
One statement in particular-[This kingdom has lain dormant for too long. My mission is to awaken it once more]-made Gron realize just how heavy the burden on his shoulders was.
At the end of the urgent dispatch, the captain had also noted that the Mantis Lord would soon lead his warriors here to join the main force.
"Mantises... natural-born warriors?"
Gron stared at those words, motionless for a long time, his thoughts unreadable.
Outside the command tent, squads of soldiers patrolled without pause, while the accompanying artisans and chroniclers repaired and examined the ruins.
The conquest of the Black Shell Plains was already halfway complete. Although the expedition seemed to be proceeding smoothly, Gron knew that certain problems had inevitably begun to emerge.
He was running short of warriors.
For one thing, bugs had to be assigned to garrison and develop the occupied lands. As the front stretched farther, the supply convoys also needed warriors to escort them.
The Sunrise Expedition had only just begun, yet there were shortages of bugs everywhere. He could not turn a blind eye to potential dangers merely to keep the expedition moving.
As the first bug to meet the Sunfire God, Gron had also spent the longest time bathed in his light. Compared with his former self, he had clearly grown much wiser.
That allowed him to see-or rather, to "foresee"-the problems that might arise.
Objectively speaking, yes.
He truly did need reinforcements. However brave and skilled the Ashen Clan's warriors might be, losses were inevitable on an expedition of such magnitude.
Dying in battle for their god was a worthy end, but without fresh troops, the Sunrise Expedition would inevitably grind to a halt.
The mantises' arrival would indeed solve his most pressing problem.
Yet after reading the report, Gron did not immediately announce it.
Even now, there was no third person who knew about the report in his hands.
As a Chosen of God, as the leader of the expedition, and as the chief of the Ashen Clan.
Gron inevitably had to bring more political considerations into his thinking than ever before.
A new clan would be joining the expedition. This would come as a shock to the Ashen Clan, which had always served as its main force.
What would the warriors fighting on the battlefield think? Does our lord no longer need us? Can these new warriors truly be trusted?
Perhaps fighting for the same god would leave no room for disagreement between them, but he still had to consider these possibilities.
Only when he unconsciously crumpled the report in his hand did Gron come back to his senses.
At last, he let out a long sigh. He knew that what he thought did not really matter. Since their god had chosen to accept the mantises as his followers, all he could do was obey.
Yet he could not help thinking further, considering more.
The Ashen Clan had wandered the wasteland for untold years, constantly struggling between life and death.
Now that they had finally found a powerful protector, Gron was truly afraid that everything might suddenly be taken away.
Sometimes, a single shift in their god's attitude was enough to decide everything.
Everything in Ashen City had been built upon the Sunfire God. The Ashen Clan had to demonstrate its worth.
They had to prove they were truly their god's people, not merely a reluctant choice made when there were no alternatives.
The Sunrise Expedition had originally been the perfect opportunity, yet the mantises had suddenly appeared and inserted themselves into it.
Faced with these approaching "reinforcements," Gron chose to wait, his expression grave.
Fungal Wastes
Middle level - Mantis Village
Today, fierce noises unlike any heard before rang out among the dense treetops.
While Gron was still considering how to handle the approaching reinforcements, Mortas had run into difficulties right from the start.
He understood perfectly well that, as lord, he now had to persuade the villagers to pledge allegiance to someone new.
But a god had no tangible form, nor was he even a clearly defined individual. He was a vague concept.
The mantises, who had no concept of religion yet, struggled to understand the faith their lord spoke of.
That did not stop them from answering, however. Mantises were proud warriors. Being suddenly ordered to serve a being they had never seen was not something they could readily accept, even at their leader's command.
Several challengers immediately stepped forward to challenge him for his position.
The result was predictable. Restored by the hand of their god to his prime, and perhaps beyond it, Mortas was far more than these ordinary mantises could handle.
In the end, the Mantis Lord effortlessly knocked down the challengers who thought he had gone senile, one after another.
Force had worked, yet the mantises' eyes still betrayed deep reluctance.
"Listen to me! Serving a god is our best choice!" Mortas patiently explained once again. "A great disaster will descend upon us in the future. Only by joining the Sunfire God can we find protection."
"Coward! You don't deserve to be our lord!"
"Mantises need bow to no one! We can protect ourselves!"
The outraged mantises had no interest in these lofty arguments. Their pride as hunters made submission impossible to accept.
The whole affair was utterly unreasonable. Had Mortas not known just how overwhelmingly powerful the Sunfire God was, he would have considered himself a traitor to bugkind too.
But the facts proved that obedience was their best choice.
Mortas was certain he could not have explained things in any greater detail, yet his people saw only his weakness.
They had been protected too well, to the point that they truly believed hunting beasts in this jungle made them fearless.
Mortas was already considering whether to resort to special measures. He had promised to send reinforcements, yet he had not mustered a single bug. If this continued, forget earning merit-his tardiness might well displease their god.
Mantis Village would never have a better opportunity than this. Mortas had decided that even if he had to use force, he would make them obey.
His hand reached for his weapon. Just as Mortas was about to make an example of someone, a slightly youthful voice rang out at an awkward moment.
"Everyone, listen to me. The Sunfire God will be our only hope."
"Quyin?"
The young scout approached from behind the crowd. The mantises along his path slowly moved aside to let him through.
Compared with when he had last left the village, Quyin had already shed his youthful awkwardness.
It was truly hard to imagine.
Only when that small figure reached the Mantis Lord did Mortas remember the second witness who had been there with him.
It could not be helped. Quyin had simply been too inconspicuous.
"Please listen, everyone. You must have felt it-the tremor that passed through the entire cavern when the god appeared."
"I know. The reason you're resisting is really because you're worried. You're afraid of change, aren't you? That's perfectly normal. I'm afraid too."
As Quyin spoke, the mantises gradually quieted. What he said was indeed true.
The tremor that had swept through the entire cavern in that instant had made them understand just how terrifying the being who had arrived was.
But pledging allegiance meant unknown changes. How could accepting that be easy?
"Even so, we have to do it." Quyin raised both hands, turning to address the mantises around him. "Our ancient traditions can no longer help us. What we need now is the courage to change."
"Besides, don't you want to go out and see what lies beyond the cavern?"
His words were clear, yet deeply stirring.
As Quyin's final words fell, even the most stubborn mantises chose to accept.
Their resistance did stem from fear of the unknown. But if they blinded themselves and covered their ears because of it, refusing to see or hear, that would be truly pathetic.
The mantises left one after another to fetch their equipment and prepare for the coming war.
Mortas breathed a sigh of relief. He looked at the normally unremarkable scout with a rare glimmer of approval in his eyes.
He had never expected this young fellow to give him such a pleasant surprise, seeing the true source of his people's resistance at a glance.
Although faith had yet to take root among the mantises, at least they were willing to try, willing to attempt to change.
The mantises had already begun preparing for war in earnest. After some thought, their lord returned to his own dwelling.
He opened a hidden door. Beyond it lay ancient relics accumulated by generations of lords: some were weapons from the Previous Civilization, others poisons refined over long years.
These had once been the Mantis Lords' greatest reserves, never to be used except as a last resort. But now it was time for them to serve their purpose.
In this first battle, the mantises had to demonstrate their strengths.
Before you continue