Chapter 48: Devotion To The Lord

The Mothkin arrived at the temporary staging area the Special Elites had established.

​A circle of violet flames danced quietly in the center of the clearing, giving off no heat and consuming no fuel.

It existed purely for atmosphere, casting long, twisting shadows across the ground and painting the surroundings in deep shades of purple.

​The Nightfang Wydra rested beside the phantom fire. Its massive wolf-like body lay comfortably on the earth, while its serpent tail coiled lazily behind it.

Every now and then, the snake head raised itself to release a low hiss before settling back down.

​Opposite it sat the Dreadroot Stalker. The towering creature remained completely motionless with one bark-covered arm resting on a raised knee.

Its wooden frame blended naturally into the surrounding gloom, while the feline features hidden beneath its exterior gave it the appearance of an apex predator patiently waiting for prey to make a mistake.

​Even while sitting perfectly still, it radiated quiet danger.

​The final member present was the Gravewing Reaper. The skeletal avian humanoid lay flat on its back with both hands tucked behind its head, its crimson soul fire flickering within empty eye sockets as it stared lazily into the moonlit sky.

​For several moments, nobody spoke.

​This wasn’t an official military camp, merely a designated resting area prepared for them by their Lord.

After all, Cassian couldn’t exactly leave his Special Elites standing idle in the middle of Lord’s Hollow for hours. The arrangement suited them far better.

​The Mothkin’s gaze swept across the gathering, her brows furrowing slightly.

​The Giant Bone Worm wasn’t present.

​At that moment the Gravewing Reaper, without shifting from its relaxed position, turned its skull toward her.

​"Oh?" Its voice carried obvious, raspy amusement. "You’re still alive."

​The Mothkin narrowed her eyes. "And what, exactly, is that supposed to mean?"

​The Reaper shrugged lazily. "With the way the Bone Worm was wailing, I assumed you’d already been buried."

​A few dry, rattling chuckles escaped its beak. "The little thing nearly lost its mind."

​The Mothkin remained silent.

​"Honestly, it would’ve been hilarious," the Reaper continued, its soul fire flickering with dark humor. "Imagine one of us dying on the very first day we were created. Our Lord would’ve been furious."

​It paused, its skeletal grin widening. "Though, to be fair... it might not have been entirely bad."

​The atmosphere in the clearing instantly froze.

​The Mothkin’s violet eyes narrowed to sharp slits.

​The Reaper sat up slowly, locking eyes with her. "If someone falls that easily... perhaps they don’t deserve a place in our Lord’s ranks."

​A cold, heavy silence descended upon the camp.

​The Mothkin’s wings twitched, shadow energy coiling faintly around her feathers. Nearby, the Nightfang Wydra opened one glowing eye.

​Meanwhile, the Dreadroot Stalker suddenly lifted its head, its emerald-like soul flames brightening with predatory glee.

​’Interesting... very interesting.’

​The treant hybrid remained seated, but its feline instincts were practically vibrating with suppressed excitement.

Truthfully, it had been bored, incredibly bored. Sitting around doing nothing wasn’t nearly as enjoyable as tearing an enemy apart.

​Perhaps it was due to the Duskmantle Panther bloodline hidden within its fused existence, or perhaps it simply enjoyed senseless violence.

Either way... if the Mothkin and Reaper started tearing into each other, it would finally have an excuse to join the slaughter.

​The thought alone made its soul fire burn blindingly bright.

​The Nightfang Wydra glanced at the Stalker, a low growl rumbling in its chest.

For some reason, it felt that psychotic creature would become a far greater headache than the two currently sizing each other up.

​The Mothkin took a single step forward, and the Reaper’s grin widened in response. Neither seemed remotely willing to back down.

​Then, a panicked telepathic scream echoed violently through every mind present:

​’BIG SIS!!!’

​The voice was so deafening that even the violet flames flickered frantically.

​A second later, the full-sized Giant Bone Worm came barreling through the dark treeline at breakneck speed.

The massive creature launched its enormous body straight through the air:

​’BIG SIS! YOU’RE ALIVE!’

​BOOM!

​The worm slammed directly on top of the Mothkin, pinning her to the earth. The force wasn’t enough to crush her, but it was certainly enough to bring the entire camp’s tension to a dead halt.

​The Mothkin laid flat on her back, staring blankly up at the creature pinning her down.

The massive worm hovered over her, its wide maw filled with razor-sharp teeth as its countless glowing eyes frantically scanned every inch of her body for lasting injuries.

​"..."

​"..."

​The Gravewing Reaper slowly looked away, clicking its beak in disappointment as it completely lost interest in provoking her.

....

The Mothkin finally managed to free herself from the Giant Bone Worm’s suffocating embrace.

​The giant worm reluctantly let go, retreating a few paces.

​Adjusting her dark feathers, the Mothkin looked toward her peculiar sibling. "Where did you go?"

​The Giant Bone Worm answered immediately, the frantic panic in its telepathic voice having faded after confirming she was unharmed.

​’I was gathering my scattered bodies.’

​The Mothkin tilted her head.

​The Bone Worm continued explain: ’After Big Sis was captured, I spread myself further throughout the Kragmar Dominion. Most of my body was still outside the settlement, so I needed time to gather everyone back together.

​The Mothkin nodded. That explained its sudden absence.

"So how have you been? I hope you didn’t worry too much."

​The Bone Worm’s tone suddenly turned bright and cheerful. ’I was at first but after our Lord’s rescue plan started, I wasn’t worried anymore!’

​The Mothkin froze. "...Rescue plan?"

​’Yes!’ The Bone Worm nodded its massive head enthusiastically. ’Our Lord gave me his mana, and I used it to divide into countless smaller versions of myself. I kept annoying the Orc Chief until she released you!’

​That was the simplest explanation the child-like creature could offer.

​The Mothkin’s violet eyes widened slightly. A part of her Lord’s plan... had been executed purely for her sake?

​The Bone Worm nodded repeatedly. ’Our Lord was very busy! He gave me lots of instructions, and he even personally spoke to the Orc Chief!’

​The Mothkin fell completely silent.

​Meanwhile, the other Special Elites were listening as well. Even the cynical Gravewing Reaper paid close attention, the Nightfang Wydra’s serpent tail stopped its lazy swaying, and the Dreadroot Stalker remained deathly still.

​All three were hanging on every detail.

​Their Lord had gone out of his way to orchestrate a psychological rescue for a single summon. To outsiders, it might seem like a minor tactical choice, but to summons... it meant everything.

​They had only existed for a short time, yet their Lord had already proven that he did not view them as disposable tools.

​The innate respect they held for Cassian deepened into absolute reverence. It was simply in their fundamental nature, a ruler who protected his subjects was worthy of loyalty, but a ruler who expended valuable resources to recover a single subordinate was worthy of devotion.