Eurypteria’s mocking grin lingered in Marisol’s mind even as she kicked off the Water Scorpion God’s bladed arms, backflipping through the air.

  She landed low on all fours, the snow beneath her hands and feet crunching sharply as she screeched backwards. Her wings folded tight against her back, her muscles coiled as she prepared to spring. The air was frigid in the residential district square, biting against her exposed skin, but her blood burned with lightning and the heat of adrenaline—she was ready to go.

  Across, Eurypteria stood two metres tall amidst the rubble, her monstrous form towering over most of the half-broken residential district. Snow swirled around her, carried by erratic winds, and her seven bladed limbs twitched, gleaming wickedly under dim sunlight.

  Then her scorpion tail lashed forward like a coiled whip, and the world around them erupted into motion once more.

  From the wreckage of a nearby collapsed building, the Imperator siblings—Helena, Aidan, and Bruno—unleashed a barrage of shockwaves at her. The air rippled as their attacks slammed into Eurypteria, forcing her to stagger, but two of her bladed arms crossed to deflect the brunt of the force. She managed to whip her tail forward still, slicing cleanly through a collapsed wall where half a dozen soldiers were taking cover. Thankfully, from somewhere behind Marisol, Hugo immediately yanked the soldiers back with invisible silk threads.

  While Eurypteria pulled her tail back, Marisol and Reina dashed in from two opposite sides, glaive and tail arcing through the air with deafening screeches.

  [Advisory: avoid attacks trying to end it all in a single hit. Do not put her in a situation where it is do or die. Chunk her down and get in any chip damage you can—they will add up over time.]

  Her teeth clenched as Eurypteria whirled around, three bladed arms slashing at her head, chest, and waist, forcing her to dodge back. At the same time, the other bladed arm and the scorpion tail cleaved at Reina’s torso, forcing the Lighthouse Imperator to back off as well. The moment the two of them did, reinforcements around them filled in the gap—they barraged Eurypteria with cannonfire, javelins, harpoons, pistol shrimp shockwaves, and every other ranged projectile they had at their disposal.

  They bought the two of them enough time to dash even further backwards, and Hugo’s voice cut through the chaos, drawing their attention to a mound of rubble where he crouched behind. He waved them over with two of his arms, his other four still weaving threads to pull injured soldiers to safety.

  Marisol ducked under a stray air blade and skated towards him with Reina’s hand in hers, and the two of them slid behind cover as Eurypteria started growling. The Water Scorpion God slashed through the air in precise, calculated arcs. With each swing, she carved the street into smaller, more chaotic fragments, forcing everyone to either duck or scatter. There was no blocking any of her bladed attacks.

  “... You’re alive.”

  Reina hugged her the moment they were behind cover in relative safety, and Marisol blinked out of surprise. She didn’t know what to do with her hands, and she certainly hadn’t expected a deeply worried face as Reina pulled away, grabbing hold of her shoulders and staring into her eyes.

  “You… okay?” Marisol asked slowly, furrowing her brows as she scanned Reina up and down. “You ain’t injured, right? Everything all good with you? Andres sent me here from Rhizocapala to help the two of you out—he says he can stop that barnacle from coming down here as long as he has Maria and Claudia with him, so it’s up to us to kill Eurypteria quickly before we have to move and reinforce him.”

  Reina nodded furiously. “Understood. I just… when I heard that all of the Insect God wormholes were collapsing at the same time, I didn’t know if you were alright. I haven’t heard from you in a week, after all, not since… you started hunting the Mutant-Classes across the city.”

  Marisol couldn’t stop a small smile from taking over her face. So she really was worried about me? She placed both her hands on Reina’s shoulders, shaking the lady slightly. “Come on. Do you really think a few Mutant-Classes can take me down at this point?”

  “No. Of course not. But still, I was—”

  “Focus,” Hugo snapped, his tone impatient as he whacked both of them on their heads with his fists. Marisol winced, but she didn’t grumble as he looked at her with eight steady eyes. “Andres told you to come help us kill Eurypteria? He’s in the north with Maria and Claudia?”

  Marisol nodded. “And Victor’s down in the south watching over Kalakos’ wormhole. I’ve got no idea how the old man’s faring—”

  [—should the need arise, you can instantly communicate with him since you are both registered Hasharana with access to long-range messaging functions—]

  “But Andres has given us a time limit,” she finished, raising ten fingers. “Ten minutes. We have to kill Eurypteria within ten minutes, rush up and kill Rhizocapala within twenty minutes, and then rush down to fight Kalakos before she emerges.”

  “Fucking Andres,” Hugo muttered straightening his back, his multiple arms working with mechanical efficiency as he spun entire webs of silk threads between his fingers. “Here’s the plan: I’ll attach threads to your backs and limbs. If there’s any sharp movement you need to make that you can’t make by yourself—an extra dicey dodge, an extra high jump, anything—telegraph it, and I’ll pull you into position. You’ll gain extra speed and precision. If you’re in danger, I’ll yank you back. You’ll be the self-moving puppets, I’ll be the puppet master and compensate for any mistakes in your movements.”

  Then his gaze flicked between Reina and Marisol, his expression grim. “But once you’re in close-quarters, it’s all on you two. I can’t fight her directly.”

  Marisol and Reina exchanged a glance.

  “We’ve been training for this,” Marisol said, her voice low but fierce. “Months of prep. Thousands of points. Sparring with ten Highwind Dolls set at maximum speed all at the same time. That fight we had with her down in Depth Five—it ain’t over yet. This is just round two.”

  Reina smirked faintly, raising a fist, and Marisol bumped it with her own.

  “We’ll end this,” Marisol said firmly.

  “Together,” Reina replied fiercely.

  The two of them vaulted over the mound of rubble in perfect unison, cold air burning in Marisol’s lungs as her glaives pumped with electric speed. Hugo’s threads tugged them into an even tighter synchronization.

  Ahead, Eurypteria slashed in flurries at the center of the residential district square, her six bladed limbs spread wide, tail coiled high and menacing. Snow and rain seemed to fall away from her as she hacked, slashed, and sliced at everything that flew her way—it was all she could already do to deflect the sheer amount of projectiles the soldiers had set up for her, and now it was time to add two more obstacles.

  Eurypteria’s eyes locked onto them as they dashed in, her expression twisted into a grin that was equal parts amusement and disdain.

  Three of her bladed arms lashed out in a sudden blur, their edges slicing through the air with enough force to shriek. Reina moved in first to intercept the attack with her own tail, the impact ringing out like a bell as she blocked the strikes one-for-three. The scorpion tail darted in next, aiming to skewer Reina, but then blades sharpened along the lengths of Reina’s forearms as well—just like Eurypteria’s— and she caught the tail, an even match for the Water Scorpion God.

  That opened an opportunity.

  Marisol darted to Eurypteria’s flank, her lightning-charged glaive crackling as she spun, twirled, and launched into the War Jump. A ten-spin kick. The attack forced the Water Scorpion God to dodge, jerking her tail back and upwards just in time to avoid being bisected.

  Now Marisol and Reina were on opposite sides of Eurypteria, and they dragged the bug’s attention both ways. This was the rhythm they’d trained for—Reina holding the line, matching Eurypteria’s deadly precision limb for limb, while Marisol delivered speedy and relentless strikes charged with lightning, chipping away at her defenses.

  Eurypteria hissed as Marisol’s kick scraped across her armoured side, leaving a faint scorch mark.

  “I see you’ve been practicing,” she snarled, “but it’s still far, far too bold to be coming at me in close-quarters like this.”

  Marisol didn’t answer. She was too busy moving, ducking under air blades one second with Hugo’s threads jerking her down for extra momentum, then kicking off a broken pillar and spiraling through the air to avoid a counterstrike in the next second. Reina lunged in tandem, slamming her tail against Eurypteria’s tail, forcing the Water Scorpion God to retreat a step.

  This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

  And just because the two of them were engaged in melee didn’t mean the others were just sitting there, watching. Around them, the soldiers roared to fervent life. The Imperator siblings unleashed precise resonant shockwaves from three different angles, the vibrations disorienting Eurypteria whenever they slammed into her head. Cannons fired with deafening booms, each blast narrowly missing their target—in fear of hitting Marisol and Reina, most probably—but they kicked up debris and smoke that blurred the edges of Eurypteria’s vision. Marisol and Reina worked around the smoke, dashing in and out to camouflage themselves before darting back out to launch simultaneous attacks from two sides.

  We can do this!

  This ain’t like Depth Five!

  That fight had most certainly been trained for, but it’d still been pure desperation at certain moments, scraping by on the edge of survival. Eurypteria had been a nightmare back then—a force of nature the two of them could barely stand against—but now?

  [Eurypteria does not seem to have gotten stronger since Depth Five,] the Archive murmured as she vaulted over a cleaving tail, flipped over Eurypteria’s shoulders, and traded places with Reina. They kicked and slashed at the same time, carving chunks of chitin off the Water Scorpion God’s waist. [She could not have. She was not allowed to get any stronger. Rhizocapala must have forced her to hold back so he could time his reemergence from the wormhole alongside Kalakos.]

  [In order for all three of them to re-emerge at around the same time, they must all be around the same level of strength. Rhizocapala grew stronger and went up a rank, while Kalakos weakened herself and went down a rank, which means Eurypteria did not change—and while Rhizocapala may still be getting used to his newfound strength, it is undeniable that he is the true mastermind behind this breach. He is smarter and more devious than the other two.]

  [I believe Eurypteria, in comparison, is now the weakest of the three Insect Gods currently on the surface.]

  [Identification Complete]

  [Name: Eurypteria]

  [Grade: E-Rank Water Scorpion God]

  [Swarmblood Art: ???]

  [Aura: ~75,000]

  [Strength: ~17, Speed: ~14, Toughness: ~13, Dexterity: ~18, Perception: ~14]

  It was snowing. Chunks of ice melted beneath Marisol’s Storm Glaives and turned into puddles of water. The force of any half-hearted stray attack sent at Marisol was easily absorbed by her chitin and redirected with hydrokinetic redirection, and with Reina by her side playing defence, intercepting most of Eurypteria’s attacks for her?

  There were openings. Many openings. Each of her kicks found their mark, chipping away at the chitin armour, exposing the softer flesh beneath piece by piece.

  Faster!

  Fiercer!

  Marisol sucked in a sharp breath. Willed herself into Steel Charge mode to dull her pain. Activated spraying discharge to add propulsion to her movements. Extending her laminar apiclaws for two extra glaives. Feasted on moisture in the air with rapid rehydration to constantly refresh her stamina. Her kicks grew sharper, faster. One strike severed a limb at the joint, sending the bladed limb spinning into the snow. Another cracked through Eurypteria’s chest plate, drawing pale blue blood that hissed as it hit the ground.

  [With Storm Glaives activated, your speed level, if nothing else, is on par with hers!]

  [Kill her!]

  Marisol didn’t respond. Her thoughts were too focused, her instincts too sharp. She was fighting to win, and Reina was, too.

  Another strike, another opening. The two of them closed in from opposite sides, their glaives and tails poised to slash through Eurypteria’s torso in a killing blow. The plan was simple as ever: destroy her heart and end the fight.

  But as their attacks closed in, Eurypteria’s expression darkened.

  Then her voice slithered into their minds, sharp and invasive.

  “Looking down on me, are you?” she whispered. “You think I’m the weakest of the Insect Gods now?

  “Think again, bugs.

  “This is where you learn the difference between humans and gods.”

  Marisol froze mid-strike, her body trembling as an icy shiver ran down her spine. On the opposite side, Reina flinched as well, her tail faltering for just a fraction of a second.

  And Eurypteria’s lips barely curled into a cruel smile as she whispered, “Swarmblood Art.”

  Her tail began to glow, a sinister shimmer of black and electric blue that pulsed unnaturally. It didn’t radiate light as much as it devoured it, swirling, bending reality at its edges. Sunlight above and around the residential district in a hundred metre radius flickered, stuttering like a dying lantern, and shadows started dancing in eerie bursts across the snow-laden battlefield.

  The air grew colder. Heavier. Marisol’s heart thudded in her chest, her instincts screaming danger. She felt it before it hit—the suffocating, overwhelming pressure of Eurypteria’s killing pressure suddenly exploding outwards. It wasn’t just an aura; it was a force, crushing and all-encompassing.

  They had to back off.

  “Get away!” Marisol’s voice cracked as she stumbled back, turning to the soldiers. “Everyone, fall back now!”

  She didn’t need to scream it out loud, though. It was an instinctual habit. Hundreds of soldiers scrambled, retreating into the debris-strewn cover, but even as Marisol tried to backpedal, something wasn’t right.

  Her legs resisted her commands, her movements sluggish and stilted. She glanced down, breaths hitching as she wondered what was going on—and she realised she was going backwards.

  She was just getting sucked back in towards Eurypteria’s flickering tail at the exact same rate.

  The battlefield was shifting. Collapsing inward. Pebbles, chunks of rubble, and even the snow on the ground were all being drawn toward Eurypteria. The wind howled as it joined the pull, whipping rain and debris into the black and blue vortex forming around the tip of her tail.

  For a very brief moment, the vortex reminded her of the Worm God’s wormholes, only this time, the unnatural pull was yanking in everything that wasn’t the Swarm.

  This was Eurypteria’s Swarmblood Art.

  … The moment Eurypteria’s tail started turning sunlight in the area on and off, Hugo knew they were in deep shit.

  The air itself was shifting, warping like a heat haze. Her tail flickered black and blue, a swirling vortex forming at its tip that sucked in everything around her: snow, debris, and shards of broken buildings. Everything spiralled towards her, drawn by a force Hugo could feel even from where he stood at the very back of the battlefield.

  Naturally, the others didn’t notice at first. Marisol and Reina were too close, too locked in combat, and the soldiers were too scattered. But Hugo wasn’t in the fight like them. As always, he was observing, spinning and jerking around a hundred different silk threads with his fingers, pulling each individual soldier back like a puppeteer navigating their puppets through unorchestrated chaos.

  And Eurypteria’s Swarmblood Art was chaos.

  The vortex wasn’t just pulling in all sorts of physical matter. It was pulling in people, and that was its strongest point.

  So her Swarmblood Art lets her swirl her blood at the tip of her tail like a vortex vacuum, and it drags everything around her into her cleaving range.

  It was a simple but genius Art in its cruelty. It wasn’t just an anti-personnel weapon. It was damn near a death sentence. Anyone caught in its pull would be dragged right in front of her, forced to face her scythe-like limbs and that deadly, unblockable tail. There’d be no dodging. No strafing. No one except Reina here had the toughness level to block even a single strike from her tail, so how, exactly, was he going to pull everyone out of the way when her Art demanded people come in close to her?

  He glanced at his hands, at the fine strands of silk stretched between his fingers, and his breath hitched.

  For years, his threads had been the lifeline of the Whirlpool City. Not for himself, no, but for everyone else. He was the support who held every dive team together, literally and figuratively. The guy at the back. The boss who never got the spotlight. The teacher who trained Imperator initiates in Lighthouse Three so they could eventually graduate and move onto Maria’s Lighthouse Two to become adepts.

  But as he watched Eurypteria draw his soldiers—his friends, his colleagues, his students—closer to certain death, something inside him snapped.

  He thought of the hundreds and thousands of Guards and Imperators he’d trained, the faces he’d seen rise and fall. He thought of Maria, who couldn’t speak anymore, and the broken look in Marisol’s eyes when she visited her. He thought of the names etched into his memory, the people he’d buried, and the ones he hadn’t been able to save across the years and decades he’d served as the city’s least popular Lighthouse Imperator.

  He was fine with being in the background for the most part, but he hated that.

  He hated the bugs for what they’d done. Hated the Insect Gods for what they represented. And, perhaps for the very first time, he hated himself for always staying in the back.

  Wasn’t he a Lighthouse Imperator, too?

  Couldn’t he be just a little bit cool as well?

  So he took a deep breath, clapped all six of his palms together and felt his blood burning as he pushed his Swarmblood Art harder than he’d ever pushed it before.

  His silk threads bled out from under his nails and shimmered with a crimson hue as he pulled his palms apart, and then he cast a hundred, a thousand of them outwards like he was scattering salt across a table. The threads shot through the air like javelins, each striking a single soldier across the battlefield—and the moment each thread made contact with a soldier’s back, it exploded into a silk cocoon made of his blood, enveloping the soldier in a protective webbing.

  Marisol, Reina, and the Imperator siblings were caught by his cocoon too, though they were probably still too focused on Eurypteria’s swirling tail in front of them to notice he’d put up a protective cocoon around them.

  I don’t need their thanks.

  Simply doing this is enough.

  As Eurypteria’s vortex intensified, pulling debris and wind and snow and rain around her harder, Hugo planted his feet firmly into the ground and held onto all of his threads. He couldn’t exactly wrap himself in a cocoon when all his hands were preoccupied, so he had to resist the pull with every fiber of his being, or else everyone else’s cocoons would come undone.

  In the end, all he could do was give everyone one more chance to win—help them block this one fatal strike from Eurypteria as she screeched into the air, her voice turning raspy, completely inhuman.

  “Don’t look down on me, you fucking bugs!” she roared. “Swarmblood Art: Subsuming Lash!”

  … He knew what was coming.

  He’d seen death thousands of times.

  So as she twirled in place, blood bursting out the tip of her tail to extend it by a hundred metres, and spun around—her vacuum slash sucking in and annihilating everything in its path—he didn’t move.

  He didn’t move.

  He didn’t try to dodge.

  Instead, he gave the Water Scorpion God he had no ties to a small, sympathetic smile.

  I don’t know about the others, but just between me and you, I’ve never looked down on you.

  Not even once.

  I know better than anyone that weaklings always have the most potential.

  Then her undodgeable tail hit him with full force from a hundred metres away, and for a moment, the world was nothing but pain and light.

  His body gave way, bisected cleanly at the waist.

  But this… is fine as well.

  My soldiers won’t lose to you.

  After all, you've already shown your trump card, and they still live.

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