Chrysalis Chapter 1792 - Unexpected Escort Quest

Somehow managing to cause an even more catastrophic environmental disaster in the fifth wasn't something I believed I could accomplish. Conditions here are already dire, making the area significantly more perilous feels nearly impossible. What more can I say? Necessity is the mother of invention.

To add to the awkwardness, I find myself responsible for a group of Legionaries who are attempting to escape. To make matters even more complicated, they are merely trainees! Recruits who haven't even completed their training.

The reason the Legion chooses to train them in the fifth remains a mystery to me. The mere thought of bringing a Queen to this place to hatch new ants makes my exoskeleton crawl. It's far from safe! It's the complete opposite of safety!

Now that this question has surfaced in my mind, I must seek an answer. I cannot bear the uncertainty.

[Why on earth do you conduct training here in the fifth? It seems like a truly… foolish decision.]

[Do you genuinely anticipate me explaining the Legion's strategic decisions to a mere monster?]

My encounters with Commanders have been limited, but their demeanor has consistently been irritable, if not downright terrifying. I grasp their deep-seated, almost irrational animosity towards monsters, but honestly, I am here, saving their lives, am I not?

Honestly!

[It just strikes me as rather irresponsible. They are barely more than fledglings. How old are they? Ten?]

[They are at least eighteen!]

Ah. You know, I find it increasingly difficult to distinguish human ages. I can identify the age difference between two hatchlings down to their exact birth date.

Once the carapace has completely hardened, it becomes considerably more challenging, but I could likely pinpoint the age difference to the very day. Humans, in my current perception, are becoming increasingly indistinguishable.

[Eighteen is still quite young, isn't it? I believe so?]

[Are humans eighteen?]

Frankly, not even if you combined both of my lifespans. However, monster lifespans are akin to canine years. The majority of us do not live for an extended period. Considering the average duration of existence for demon larvae in the third, I would surmise that the median lifespan of a monster within the Dungeon is approximately five minutes.

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

[That is none of your concern. I am the eldest in my lineage, and that is all that truly matters.]

[Is that so.]

An uncomfortable silence descends as I continue to follow the group, ascending the wall alongside them as they navigate a particularly treacherous path. To their credit, they exhibit no fear and maintain their formation as a cohesive unit, perpetually vigilant, as one would expect from professional soldiers possessing an unusual quantity of mana.

Eventually, it appears Commander Eliza begins to soften slightly.

[The most resilient steel is forged through the most intense heat. We bring our officers here to train them under the most demanding conditions, ensuring that no future leadership challenge will be more arduous than their training.]

Well, I suppose that's one perspective…

[It feels as though much valuable steel would be broken that way.]

[We have adhered to this methodology for over a millennium, experimenting with numerous alternative approaches throughout that time. Not everyone emerges successfully, but those who do survive, and those under their command, also survive. That is the ultimate objective.]

I cannot fathom my Colony ever adopting a comparable training regimen. Every ant is an invaluable member of our collective, deserving of the utmost opportunity to thrive, not to be shattered upon an anvil and reshaped. The training at Antcademy is rigorous, even arduous, designed to challenge eager young individuals ready to dedicate their lives to the Colony, yet it pales in comparison to the harsh realities of surviving in the fifth. By a significant margin.

[I am uncertain how receptive you may be to this suggestion, but I do not believe your second Outpost will withstand the encroaching tide, so to speak.]

We are presently ascending a nearly vertical incline, yet the space we occupy is relatively narrow by the standards of the fifth, scarcely a hundred meters across, and it is rapidly becoming submerged. The area below where the previous Outpost was situated is now completely inundated, and the water level continues to rise behind us.

Frankly, I never anticipated the water reaching such heights, but once again, my assumptions have proven incorrect. Surely, it cannot be much longer before the level begins to recede. Fortunately, my tunnel map indicates a probable route towards the fortress from my current position.

[You are welcome to seek refuge within the Colony's fortress,] I propose. [You can join Commander Chyron and her Legion if you wish. I assure you, this is not a ploy to lure you into a trap for some grub-feeding.]

[How utterly reassuring. Allow me to confer with the others.]

Curious, I had anticipated an outright refusal. This is, after all, the Legion.

Either my unwavering optimism and persuasive charm are finally having an effect, or they are more concerned about the escalating mucus levels than I had initially presumed.

There are fewer than a hundred of them in total, perhaps a hundred and fifty if we were to evacuate the other base as well. We should be able to accommodate them without any significant difficulty.

They engage in a prolonged discussion, and I patiently await the expected denial as we continue our climb. However, ten minutes later, an unexpected thought communication arrives via the bridge.

[We shall accept your offer.]

You ?