The Apprentice of Ouroboros [Monster Evo LitRPG Adventure]

Neska had expected to find resistance deeper down into the nest, or to be surrounded by guard wasps and their stinging counterparts within minutes.

Instead, all the angry activity of fluttering wings was still far above her head, closer to the surface. The insects and their goblin counterparts must have no idea that she was down here. The grubs and the smaller worker wasps completely ignored her. Though the grub in her hand wriggled in protest.

The drone wasps looked much like the other parasitic wasps, but smaller. They had no stinger and bore black stripes over a mustard colored body. Their faceted eyes were a brighter green shade, and they made no effort to impede Neska.

She wisely chose to leave them be. She wouldn't slaughter them just because they were there. In fact, killing them might attract undue attention.

The grub in her hand, serving as a light source, let out a tiny squeal of protest. But it could do nothing. "Oh, give it a rest, I'm not going to eat you. I don't eat bugs very often," Neska grumbled. It felt weird to say that, but she had eaten large insects before. They weren't quite as appealing as frogs, fish, spiders, rodents, and invertebrates.

Plus, grubs weren't usually filling enough to be worth the effort. She took the wriggling grub and placed it in a large sampling jar. Syrona looked at her, confused, and flicked her tongue at the jar.

"No. This one is Glowey. We don't eat named things," Neska said, raising a brow at her familiar's odd behavior. Syrona let out a soft click of her tongue, then continued slithering past the bugs attending to hatching chambers. The entire room seemed like one giant wasp nursery.

She made her way down the spiraling tunnels. Several smaller 'nodule' chambers formed between tunnels. Each chamber connected to the others in three-way and four-way intersections. She was getting a little disoriented with the directions she was going.

An idea came to her. She used the glowing ichor still on her clothes to mark her path choices and smeared it across the wall, making rudimentary arrows.

Squishing the grubs for additional marking seemed...excessive. The Varadur wouldn't hesitate to kill us in the crib. Why am I hesitating? I fully plan on bringing down this whole hive.

The difference, she concluded, was simple. Were she to fully remove this threat, it would be sudden and without suffering. Dragging it out...that is what the Varadur would do.

Syrona bit down on a grub that crawled past her snout, squishing it and surprising the coatyl. She warbled in alarm and tried to shake her snout, as if the ichor tasted foul.

Neska put her hand on her torso, sighing. "Don't eat the grubs, Syrona. It'll never come out of your feathers."

The familiar let out a hiss of indignation, turning her head and cocking it skyward. Neska let out a chuckle. "Hey, not everything in sight is a free meal, Missy. Except for eggs. Anyway, we need to keep moving quietly. While they're still unaware of us."

Syrona took that cue and fluttered around, avoiding the grubs. When she looked at the wasps, Neska saw her trying to emulate them...sort of. Her feathers along her body slowly turned into a banding of orange, black, and yellow stripes. Minus the fact that she wasn't very wasp-shaped, the colors matched well.

"I'm sure you'll blend right in," Neska whispered dryly. Syrona chirped in agreement.

Meanwhile, Neska took the break to mentally map the entire place, making sure she talked with Vivi about every twist and turn.

What unnerved her was a chamber filled with the husks of dead wasps. Hundreds of them. She chose to go around the edge. It felt like stepping into a graveyard.

Or, a battlefield. Dried ichor was splattered all over, and some wasp corpses had been hacked apart.

She was glad to leave the chamber behind her. But now, she was wondering why. What else was in this infernal place?

Neska, I think I've figured out the rough composition of this Instance. Based on your recollection of the hive structure of normal paper wasps and similar species, I think we're somewhere midway along this large conical-shaped nest. All these pathways are typically meant to deter intruders, or serve as storage rooms for prey, or extra hatching chambers.Though that chamber filled with dead wasps...were they deliberately killing each other?

You raise a solid question. Maybe they were training against each other in lethal combat? She'd come away with an immensely unsettling feeling. The monsters were willing to kill each other to increase their Tier, even at the risk of thinning their swarm to a manageable level by the military. Risk, reward, but on a massive scale.

Possibly. It's one way monsters can evolve without battling and killing humanoids. Though as you note, it's a risky proposition.

The discovery raised other questions as she slid around a wasp corpse and used a small hunting knife to cut out the venom sac for storage. There was no way she'd attempt to put it in her dimensional stomach; that terrible idea left her shuddering.

"I don't understand. How can a hive this size sustain itself? There shouldn't be enough prey in the surrounding area to feed a hive of this magnitude." She ducked under a low archway of rock and protruding honeycomb material. Thinking aloud might not solve the problem faster, but it helped her at least play out her more feasible theories.

Instances supposedly could generate substance--plants, lichen, vegetative matter, not unlike the way she could generate roots. If that was correct, each Instance could create a self-sustaining ecosystem. Even without exterior hunting.

Maybe that was how this was unnoticed for so long. The goblins were digging up a five-year investment: to fully unseal it and unleash the swarm. But not all the wasps were deadly. She had counted far more worker drones than attackers.

She saw only a few of the grubs milling about, seemingly left to their own devices. She found that odd. The workers only attended to them on occasion. Rarely, one of the wasps would carry a deer leg or another animal limb, in an interesting instant food delivery. It dropped it, somehow able to lift the piece despite the heavy weight, and all the grubs slowly spun and approached the unexpected treat.

So, that theory that they couldn't sustain themselves was only partially correct. This hive must have been sustained by hunting; she knew the wasps were predatory. The goblins and the other Varadur might have been bringing in supplies, too. That seemed less practical and far more organized than the usual Varadur attacks.

Either way, the wasps were picnic thieves and meanies. These insects made her 'smush with impunity' list in two different ways.

She tapped her lapel every two minutes, trying to get a signal. Aside from that one chamber where everybody had been forced to flee because of the pending swarm, the device was silent. She heard a couple of crackles of static, but that was it.

She was alone down here. Alone against the swarm.

Well, not entirely alone. Syrona had slithered back into her backpack, shivering and trilling softly when she poked her head out. “Yeah, stay in there for now, Syrona. It's safer. If we run into trouble, you’ll need to hide somewhere. Okay? Hopefully, they stay focused on me. Hopefully.”

She received a hesitant peep from Syrona, her wings fluttering.

Neska spotted more rusting mining equipment scattered throughout the area. She wondered what state this place had been left in for them to leave all the tools in a hurry.

She mentally noted the contents to compile a report on the Instances and how they affected the environment. Right now, all evidence of individual components was afflicted, like a spread of mold or other culture growth.

Yet, as she saw the rock slowly merging with the resin and spongy material of the hive, Neska felt a shiver run down her spine, and her breathing became shallow and rapid. I've been in a place like this before. A place where horrors from somewhere else have begun to seep into the world.

No one knew, precisely, what these Instance cores did or how they did it. What she did know was that it had something to do with the rifts that had formed in the wake of the Sundering of Arivol.

The Umbral shoal should be an untouched final frontier. These cores bring forth anything but that in their manifestation of that realm. Corrupted, grotesque, a mockery of the promised peace for the ferrying of souls to begin life again.

These cores must never be allowed to take root, as the corruption is not limited to just the physical.

That had been one of Risha's last entries. It was odd how that cropped up now. But what did that mean?

She gasped. This place…it's a corruption amplifier. She might have been referring to the corruption of the Varadur, the corrupted Interface!

If that was the case…how long did they have before the corruption began? Immediately? Days? Others had fought and destroyed Instance cores, but did that corruptive influence end with the core's destruction?

Did anybody else understand the possible risk?

She shook her head. There was nothing she could do but burn this infestation to the ground, first. Studies would come later.

No one had been able to capture an Instance core alive, except for one team. But it had been in such bad shape that it expired shortly after capture. Very little had been written about the subject.

The lack of documentation or intact samples was disturbing, especially given their importance. If anything, she wanted to bring this core back intact, and alive, and very carefully. If any captured core so much as converted a single square inch into hive material, she'd inject it with enough venom and alchemical poisons to kill a dragon.

Looking around, she saw that a wooden chest had already been halfway converted to a hive-like material. She lifted the lid, the resin tearing on the half that wasn't transformed, and she peered into the chest.

There wasn't much in here; it looked like a supply crate, filled with old but well-sealed rations, glow lanterns, and a few blankets. Nothing of particular value for her in here.

She took a look through the storage area. She found hard hats, more old lanterns, lots of things either rusting or otherwise dusty. Much of it was in poor condition. She did find a length of cord that looked suspiciously like the same kind of cord she'd seen sticking out of the goblin boom sticks currently sitting in her stomach.

Was it really her stomach, or was it just a gross mechanism to limit the effectiveness of dimensional inventory? Either way, her [Dimensional Stomach] was hella weird. She was pretty sure rogues didn't have to shove things into their mouths. Certainly not under normal circumstances.

Sitting on a desk that was half-converted to that hive-like material or covered was a mildew-stained satchel. Inside, she found a small, well-preserved journal and flipped it open. The pages were crisp, if slightly yellowed, but still legible.

She set the book down after a minute. A letter from a miner to his daughter, all the way at the southern tip of the continent, south of Rivilat, even. A short excerpt was written by the owner, vowing to bring home enough riches and support the war efforts, so that the monsters would never threaten humanity again.

It felt wrong to read such a personal effect. But she pocketed it anyway. Maybe there was something in there to lend a clue to what the Varadur were up to.

Syrona peeked out of her satchel, then slithered out to explore the room, enjoying the slight respite from the wasps. "Don't wander too far. We're still in danger," Neska reminded her.

Syrona started chirping at another container, this one still intact. It was labeled as the wrong material, but that was a little vague. The lock was rusted and wouldn't budge.

Of course, easy solutions were at hand when you could spit slightly acidic venom to wear away at the lock material. With a little bit of effort, and using her [Ember Hex] to heat the material, making it more susceptible to impact. She took a nearby pickaxe and smashed the lock open in a single hit.

She popped the chest open, surprised to find raw mana crystals still sitting in the box, their glow carrying far in the dimly lit chamber. It was too much for her to carry, and the translucent blue crystals hummed audibly over the low buzzing of the hive. She hesitated on taking too many and opened her mouth.

Wait. Why does this seem like a bad idea? She decided to try to store one of the crystals later, out of caution.

She guessed the monsters didn't really have any preference for these things, except they had gone through the effort to lock it up. Though the lock was rudimentary, it could have come from a looted town. Or perhaps the goblins were mining it? If they were, then why?

A quick note for herself to check back here later, assuming they get the chance, and didn't collapse the entire instance in on itself when they destroyed the core. She took a few of the samples and stuffed them into her satchel.

“Good find, Syrona. Okay, back on track. We need to find the Instance core and either destroy it or remove it. It's likely all the way at the bottom of the hive, where the nest is most defensible."

Neska heard a soft buzzing sound and turned her head to see a slightly smaller wasp. This one had no stinger but bore a venomous green carapace and a slightly larger insectoid head. It buzzed, then reared back its head and screeched.

The sound pierced her skull, deafening. The sound was loud enough that it caused immense pain. She shot the creature with a [Venom Bolt], striking it through the torso, but it was already too late. She could already hear the scrabbling of wasps somewhere above her on the next level, and the buzzing grew in intensity.

"Syrona, back with me! We're going to have our hands full in a minute!" She slithered back out of the storage room, looking for the next path down, somewhere obscured in the darkness.

She undulated as fast as she could, on the theory that the concentration of grubs wandering around might indicate the pathway down. If these were not just free food for the wasps, it must be the larval form of the wasps, and must be coming from some larger hatchery somewhere. She found it strange that the creatures were allowed to roam like this rather than just staying put in one hatchery.

Her ruminations were interrupted when a half dozen wasps showed up, bee-lining for her. She tested her [Witch Cackle], which stunned all the creatures in mid-air, causing all of them to flounder to the ground.

Neska followed up with a deadly shot from one of her incendiary arrows, setting all of them on fire. They let out shrill screeches and burned.

Cackle and crackle. The attack combination had a certain juvenile yet satisfying ring to it.

Syrona let out a chirp of approval as the wasps withered and slowly became blackened, flaky husks. However, the battle was just getting started; Neska heard more wasps coming from down around the corner. She slithered forward as fast as she could, down deeper into the hive.

She still had a few tricks up her sleeve. She grabbed one of the alchemical pyropowder charges still sitting on an equipment harness, took the fuse she just grabbed from the chest, cutting a short segment with a claw. She then stuffed it into the canister and used her ember hex to ignite it, the burning wick sputtering with brilliant magnesium white sparkles.

The wick burned far too quickly for her liking. She gave it a rolling toss toward the ground, just as more wasps rounded the corner. She hit her [Runic Barrier] just as the charge detonated.

She was hit by splattered bug guts, adding another coat of ichor, and she let out a disgusted hiss. The first layer of bug guts had dried out.

She hated bugs. More than ever.

Three more wasps rounded the corner, these larger and by easily the size of the other guard wasps. They extended their abdomens and angled them forward. She heard a pneumatic thwack as all three stingers disappeared.

It didn't register for a second that they'd shot their stingers at high speed, and she felt that sharp sting hitting her chest and arm. The pain was quicker to come.

She'd been braced for pain. But not this much.

She was halfway right when she realized some wasps could shoot their stinger like crossbow bolts. She also assumed they would be filled with paralytic venom, to soften up targets for injecting eggs or cutting down attackers

She was half right. The stingers contained an immense inflammatory venom that left her nearly screaming in pain. She forced herself to an alert state, knowing if she locked up, she'd die.

She let out a pained [Witch Cackle], stunning the creatures mid-air, causing them to flop to the ground. Grimacing against the pain spreading through her torso and arm, she fired off three rapid-fire [Venom Bolts], hitting each of them for catastrophic and fatal damage

The extra incendiary arrow she fired detonated among the trio, ensuring they stayed down.

Bug guts splattered from the detonation, and yet another wave of icor hit her, even from this distance. She sagged and felt the pain from the stinger still embedded between her scales, and another one on her arm. A few more had bounced off, but she'd still felt the impact, like being hit by slingshot bullets.

Venom Resistance [Insectoid] increased to 95%. Imagine how bad it would be if they were hitting for full force, Neska.

I'd rather not get hit altogether. Foolish. I should have been using my [Runic Barrier]. She took the pain she'd suffered as a miscalculation, one she couldn't afford to make again.

She grabbed the corpse of one of the ranged wasps and stuffed it into her satchel. This was a fascinating, if annoying, discovery: even the wasps had ranged abilities now.

She ripped out the stingers. At least she knew what to look out for next time, and the next time would be far sooner than she'd like. As more of the ranged wasps closed their stingers already extended, she was ready for this attack.

She let out another [Witch Cackle], knocking all the wasps down, and followed through with her [Mana Bolts], skewering three of them.

The fourth shook off the ability and charged for her, stinger extended and firing. She slapped the projectile down with a perfectly timed [Coiled Strike], her scales briefly hardening, causing the stinger to bounce off. In the same motion, she smashed the weakened wasp against the cavern wall, splattering it.

She should have brought a change of clothes, in hindsight. "Syrona, remind me to ask for a uniform that has a... hygiene rune," she said with a deflating hiss. Committing pesticide against mutated insects was not on her list of expected horrors to deal with today.

Syrona trilled in affirmation from her backpack when she poked out to see if the coast was clear. “Syrona, stay down. We're not done yet.”

Thousands and thousands of insects vibrated nearby. She needed to find the instance core and destroy this place before they all mobilized. And soon.

She heard a grumble of disgust down the tunnel, and the stomping of feet. "Who's causing all that racket? Damn wasps shoulda made lunch of any--"

A hobgoblin, and the two others who rounded the corner, were met by an incensed snake who was completely done with dealing with these creatures. "Two choices: run, or explode," she hissed.

The hobgoblin laughed as his peers advanced with sharpened, rust-free daggers that seemed above par for the Varadur's armory. "Hah! It's just a single stupid snakey Academy bitch. You face Grull and his mighty compatriots! You would need an army to take us on!" He declared as they advanced.

That sounded like a boast. Time to up the intimidation.

Neska pulled a goblin boomstick from her mouth, used her [Ember Hex] to ignite the wick, and brandished the lit explosive for them to witness. Their eyes bulged in sheer terror, and Grull's companions edged their feet backward while Grull tried to muster more bravado.

Neska gave them a fanged smile. "I don't need an army. I have bombs."