Her Majesty’s Swarm - Volume 3 - Chapter 12

Dulosis 

“Eeeek, monsters! You witch! You all ought to burn at the stake!” Paris wailed as I approached him. 

Such a pitiful, pathetic sight. It suited him. He deserved the fate I was about to serve him. 

“Shut up already. Do you want to die that badly?” I asked. The Toxic Swarms’ stingers glinted dangerously in front of his face. 

“Wh-What do you want?!” 

“To make sure you meet the same fate you forced on innocent people.” 

Sensing my will through the collective, the Toxic Swarms picked Paris up and began dragging him away. 

“Let go of me! Let go, I say! Do you have any idea who you’re dealing with?! I’m the right hand of His Holiness, Pope Benedictus III!” 

Paris continued to scream as he was carried off. 

What a stooge. 

The pope’s right-hand man? What good was a right hand if it served only to kill people? We might have been grotesque monsters, but this man had ordered the deaths of his own kinsmen. And on top of everything else, he had murdered Isabelle. That wasn’t something we were about to forget. 

It’s all your fault Isabelle had to die in agony. 

“Everyone!” I exclaimed before the citizens of Saania. “This man has burned your family members, your friends, and your loved ones at the stake for false accusations! But now he has neither power nor authority! He is nothing but an impotent coward! If you wish to exact revenge on him, be my guest!” 

Upon hearing those words, Paris’ face went pale. 

“I hear he’s the head of the Department of Punition...” 

“My wife was killed because of him!” 

Gradually, hateful curses bubbled up from Saania’s people as they emerged from their houses and filtered into the streets. Every man, woman, and child fixed Paris with a hostile glare, proof of how much he was universally hated. 

“Now, do as you will with him!” I shouted, then had Paris thrown into the crowd. 

“It’s all your fault! It’s because of you poor Maëlys had to die! All she ever did was worry about her parents, and you punished her with something so terrible!” 

“This man is the real heretic! The God of Light is supposed to be a merciful god, but this man executed anyone he felt like! There isn’t a sliver of mercy in him!” 

One of the people in the audience was Frederico, the owner of the bakery that once served sugar buns. He still carried a grudge from having to watch Maëlys—whom he’d seen as family—burn to death. There were plenty of other people in the crowd who had witnessed the deaths of their loved ones at the hands of the inquisition. 

“Burn him at the stake! This man is a heretic!” 

“Burn the heretic!” 

The crowd dragged Paris over to the main plaza, where the stake was. 

“Wait! I-I didn’t! I was only following orders! Really! It wasn’t me, you have to believe me! I only wanted to win the waaar!” Paris hollered. 

But the people ignored his words and tied him up to the stake. 

“Burn him! Burn him! Burn him!” 

The masses chanted and shouted as Frederico approached him, torch in hand. 

“Stop! Please, stop! I beg of you!” Naturally, Paris’ cries fell on deaf ears. 

Frederico set fire to the stake, which was soon enveloped by flames. 

“Aaaah! AaaAAaaAhhh! Help me, somebody save meeee!” 

Paris’ body burned in the fire. His clothes were quickly eaten away, and the skin beneath broke out in painful blisters that sizzled and popped. He thrashed around in an attempt to break free, but there was no escaping the flames, and the smoke was gradually suffocating him. 

“My God... O, merciful God of Light... I beg of you... save... me...” 

Then, Paris Pamphilj breathed his last. 

“He’s dead!” 

“The heretic is dead!” 

Saania’s people cheered, reveling in his death. 

“They feel the same way I do,” I muttered. 

I had considered killing all of Saania’s citizens after this, but I decided to call it off. 

“What will we do now, Your Majesty?” the Toxic Swarms asked me, cocking their insectile heads to one side. 

“Change of plans,” I said, turning to look at the Popedom’s great basilica. “We’re taking over this country.” 

I advanced into the heart of the Popedom with the Toxic Swarms in tow. The guards had all been driven out beforehand, so I was able to go deep into the building without any resistance. If there was anyone left to fight us, I wouldn’t mind killing them, but I tried to avoid meaningless bloodshed when I could. 

At that moment, I was feeling merciful. Sandalphon had said that even in situations like this, I shouldn’t forget my human heart. Thus, I did my best to abide by the promise I had made her. 

At last, I reached a room at the very end of the building. 

“Pardon my intrusion,” I said, stepping inside. 

“What the...?! Monsters!” cried one cardinal who cowered within. 

“Be calm. She will not harm us,” another said coolly. 

In this room, there were cardinals infected with Parasite Swarms and cardinals who were not. It was only natural for the former to be so calm. 

“Allow me to introduce myself. I am Grevillea, Queen of the Arachnea. I am the one who leads the Swarms that have tormented you so. I believe this is our first meeting, but I know you all too well, gentlemen.” 

Having used the Parasite Swarms to observe the cardinals, I knew what each and every one of them wanted. 

“I’ve come here to advise you to surrender. As you can see, I’ve already beaten your last line of defense. Metatron is dead, and there’s nothing left to protect you from my army. If you surrender peacefully, we will allow you to live as our vassals.” 

“W-We will not submit to monsters!” 

“So in the end, Cardinal Pamphilj was beaten...” 

I watched the hope in their eyes flicker and die out. 

“If you won’t willingly surrender, we’ll just have to destroy this city and the towns around it, killing every last innocent. You only have a few towns left, but those people are still your precious citizens. Are you going to just let them die?” 

If they chose to resist, I’d turn all their people into meatballs. I’d learned a bit of mercy, but I wasn’t totally gracious. 

“You would dare use the townsfolk as leverage?” 

“But their lives are important. We cannot abandon our people...” 

Both the infected and uninfected cardinals discussed my ultimatum. 

“We should surrender,” Pope Benedictus III said, sighing in resignation. “We haven’t the means to fight anymore. The Nyrnal Empire is attacking us from the south, and there’s nothing we can do.” 

“That’s wise,” I said. “Seeing as you’re out of a military, surrendering is a sound decision.” 

I’d considered infecting the pope with a Parasite Swarm, but I realized he never gave us a chance. Still, if he was willing to turn over control of his country to us, then there was no need for it anyway. 

“What are your conditions?” he asked. 

“You will be subservient to the Arachnea. You will obey us without objection. So long as you do that, you are welcome to worship the God of Light, or whatever god you want. We want obedient vassals who won’t put up resistance. If you don’t revolt, and you provide us with what we need, we will allow you to govern yourselves.” 

“You’re not going to demand we give you humans as food or slaves, are you?” He glared at me suspiciously from beneath his wrinkled brow. 

“As long as you remain obedient, I can guarantee no harm will befall your people. We may ask you for livestock, however.” 

Truth be told, human flesh was insufficient. Meat from farm-raised livestock was better in every conceivable way, including for making meatballs. Besides, when it came to breeding, humans weren’t as easily managed as farm animals. 

“If that’s all you want, we accept your proposal. Let us make peace, Miss Grevillea.” 

“Good. Just don’t forget that we’ll be keeping a constant eye on you.” 

If the Popedom of Frantz were to break this peace treaty, the cardinals infected by Parasite Swarms would inform me immediately. I wasn’t particularly worried about that. 

“And since you’ll be our vassals, we promise to protect you from the Nyrnal Empire,” I added. 

“For that, we are grateful. That tyrannical country attacked us out of nowhere... No, they likely waited for the war to sufficiently weaken us. Such a sly and despicable nation...” 

Right now, the Empire of Nyrnal was our common enemy. Just when they invaded our territory, they also declared war against the Popedom. 

“Then we will enter a ceasefire,” I said. “Let us take a day or two to draft a peace treaty both sides find satisfactory. We don’t want to fight you any longer.” 

War might’ve been the Swarm’s objective, but it wasn’t what I wanted. At the very least, I intended to put an end to all this fighting after I destroyed the Empire of Nyrnal. 

I’ve fought enough wars already, right? 

Thus, the Arachnea entered peace talks with the Popedom of Frantz. The Popedom agreed to bury the hatchet and swore to indefinitely uphold amicable relations with the Arachnea. In addition, it was decided that the Popedom would grant the insect faction any supplies it needed in exchange for the military assistance the Arachnea would provide. 

Lastly, the Arachnea would not interfere with the Popedom’s religious observance. Frantz maintained its right to elect its own pope and was restricted only from holding any more inquisitions. 

Pope Benedictus III and I signed the document detailing these conditions, therefore concluding the Arachnea’s war with the Popedom of Frantz. All that remained was our upcoming battle with the Nyrnal Empire, but that was shaping up to be a difficult one. 

Nyrnal had already seized control of most of our territory in Maluk. We’d sent Genocide and Toxic Swarms from our forward operating bases in Schtraut, but they had done little to hinder the enemy’s advance. 

I would have to start dealing with this war in earnest sooner rather than later. I needed to unlock any remaining units and send them to face the enemy. 

Don’t get used to having everything go your way, Nyrnal. 

Even as this defiant thought crossed my mind, trouble was brewing elsewhere. 

“Oooh. That girl’s not half bad,” Samael cooed as she gazed at a map detailing the balance of power on the continent. 

While the Arachnea no longer had control over Maluk’s territories, the Popedom of Frantz was now dyed in its color. The map at Samael’s feet was functionally the same as the game’s minimap. 

“The great emperor’s army snatched away the lands of Maluk and a wee bit of Frantz... How disappointing. I expected a bit more from Gregoria’s heir, inheritors of the legacy of dragons. Those guys should really shake things up some more. The fires of war should spread throughout the continent as everything descends into chaos. That’s why they have those wyverns, no? Why do the beasts take flight if not to set the world ablaze? Are they simply there to please the masses with their acrobatics? Ridiculous...” 

Samael snapped her fingers, and a chair appeared out of thin air. 

“Well, there’s nothing to worry about,” she said. She sat down and crossed her legs, the black tights she wore making a soft sound as she did. “Lady Samael’s got this all figured out. I know how to cause pandemonium. I’ll just light a fire under the Empire of Nyrnal so that it unifies the continent with renewed vigor. Yes, yes, yes. Lady Samael has this alllll figured out.” 

She licked her lips, which were smeared with pale lipstick. 

“I’ll see to it that the Empire learns true, honest-to-goodness panic. And in its frantic struggle, it will point its blades toward the Arachnea.” Samael cackled loudly, pleased with herself. “The Nyrnals will run across the continent, sowing death and disorder wherever they go. That is war. That is human behavior. That is the essence of monstrosity. What need is there to hesitate when it comes to laying bare the true nature of this world?” 

Her expression changed. All traces of her delight disappeared, making way for a cold, cruel gaze. 

“But I must admit, Sandalphon’s actions have been worrisome. She is an irritating one. She truly is trying to save _________, the Arachnea’s queen. Pulling her out of my wonderful game is one thing I can’t allow. That girl is my toy, no matter what. I’m not letting Sandalphon have her now. 

“Let us continue this game. This fun, fun game. I wonder what face our little queen will make when the world is covered in corpses and the grotesque come to rule over this world. Will she be pleased? Disappointed? Terrified, perhaps? Whichever it is, I look forward to it. She’s a person worth toying with.” 

Samael then turned in her chair. 

“Now then, my precious spectators—it’s time for the main event. The Arachnea and the Nyrnal Empire, inheritors of the Gregoria’s heritage, will soon clash. Watch the affair with bated breath. Who will come out on top, the Arachnea or the Empire?” 

Samael then hopped off her chair, landing nimbly atop a certain point on the map. 

“The decisive battle will take place in the Eastern Trade Union, a corrupt country hedonists call home. This brave and foolish nation dared to live without bending a knee to Nyrnal or Frantz. Which faction shall emerge victorious?” 

Despite the ongoing hostilities, the Eastern Trade Union had retained its neutrality. 

“The Arachnea produces new units to bolster its strength, but the same holds true for the Nyrnal Empire. They too skulk in the darkness, using the Gregoria’s heritage to augment their army with dragons. Soon the wyverns will not be the only thing to fear.” 

What sort of forces would the Gregoria’s heritage produce that eclipsed even the fearsome wyverns? 

“The war will continue. It will go on and on!” Samael said gleefully. “Let us resume the game with new units, new tactics, and new victims. Ahh, I can already taste the bliss it will bring!” 

She laughed again, then picked up the map and left. The powers at war were currently locked in a stalemate, and the nations’ borders showed no signs of shifting quite yet. However, the number of casualties from here on out would only rise. Swarms would die to hold the borders, and so would Nyrnal’s soldiers as they tried to break through. 

Blood would flow on both sides, and slowly but ever so surely, that crimson paint would stain the map of the continent. 

But would things truly go as Samael desired? The Arachnea’s queen, at least, did not intend to let that happen. The Arachnea was all at once this world’s greatest hope and its deepest despair. 

Schtraut’s refugees were gradually returning home to the former Dukedom. 

“This group goes to the first temporary residential complex. And this one, hmm...” 

Roland was organizing and handling the refugees’ return. He worked with the hope that their homeland would be reborn, even neglecting sleep. With the help of some Swarms, he moved refugees into vacant houses and built temporary residences to accommodate those whose homes had been burned down. 

“We’re finally home!” 

“Ahh, it feels good to set foot on the Dukedom’s soil again!” 

Relief washed over the refugees—well, the once-again citizens of Schtraut. They would be able to start anew, and this made them happier than anything else could. While they were in the Popedom, they had constantly lived under the threat of the inquisitors and feared that one day they might be branded as heretics. 

Now they had left the cramped confines of the refugee camps behind and were allowed to live in their homeland once more. They were finally at ease. 

“Are we really allowed to do this?” 

“They won’t attack us, right?” 

The only thing that made them uneasy was the presence of the Swarms. Right now, the Swarms were acting as Roland’s lackeys and helping with Schtraut’s reconstruction efforts. But in the citizens’ eyes, these creatures were the reason they had been driven out of this land to begin with, and they couldn’t forgive that so easily. 

Parents hid their children, while older siblings hid their younger brothers and sisters as they made an effort to keep their distance from the Swarms. 

“I suppose we can’t expect them to trust us in a day,” Roland muttered with a hint of disappointment as he watched them. 

This hardly came as a surprise. The Swarm had laid waste to Schtraut once before, and even if they were allies now, the citizens couldn’t bring themselves to trust them right away. That trust would have to be earned, little by little. 

And this was what the queen of the Arachnea wished for. If she kept the Swarm from killing civilians, she would keep hold of her human heart and respect the wills of the people she had lost. Her actions also doubled as a way to ensure the Swarm would be able to survive on their own without her. 

After all, she wasn’t immortal. She, too, would eventually die; the fight with the Seraph Metatron had served as a grim reminder of that. Had things gone down even a little bit differently, Metatron would have slain her. 

What would happen after her death? The Swarm would be left behind in this malicious world, and without a leader, they were weak. They would be reduced to a horde of insects incapable of strategy or tactics, and they would forcefully and incessantly try to overrun the continent with their numbers. 

No units would be upgraded, no buildings unlocked. The Swarm would simply fight on and on. Roland couldn’t imagine them obtaining victory in that state. The only fate that awaited them would be extermination. 

To prevent this, the queen was pushing them to form cordial relations with the citizens of Schtraut. If the Swarm had allies capable of creating technology and expressing independent thoughts, they might become capable of pressing on without her. Even if she were to die before the war’s end, the Swarm would be surrounded by human beings, so they wouldn’t be seen as mere monsters. 

If the Swarm could live alongside mankind, they would not need to face extinction. They would become true friends to humanity, and society would eventually accept, if not welcome their presence. In that case, people would not feel the need to be rid of them. 

But that would take time to achieve. 

“All right, who’s ne—” 

Just as Roland was about to transmit a question to the collective, however... 

“Aaaah!” 

A mother carrying her child of three or so years tripped as she tried to climb over the border wall. She went pale as the toddler slipped from her arms. But the boy didn’t hit the ground; one of the Ripper Swarms swiftly hurried over and caught him just in time. 

“Eeek!” 

The woman screamed in fear, likely thinking her child was about to be eaten, and prepared to snatch him away. But the Ripper Swarm made no signs of trying to eat the boy. It simply held him out toward her, patiently waiting for her to take him. 

“You... You saved him?” she asked warily. 

The Ripper Swarm said nothing and instead continued to wait with its forelegs outstretched. 

“Um, thank you.” Bewildered, she gently took the child from the Ripper Swarm and stepped into Schtraut. 

After seeing this chain of events, Roland sighed in relief. 

“Perhaps the Swarm understands Her Majesty’s will better than I do.” 

The Swarm obeyed the collective consciousness and the queen at its center. Though the queen thought being absorbed by the collective consciousness would put her on the path to indiscriminate slaughter, it seemed this wasn’t entirely the case. 

Just as she wished, the Swarm were learning pity. They no longer sought to triumph solely through mass murder; they were now capable of choosing to accept others and show mercy. They did not simply reduce people to meatballs, but they had learned how to reach out and lend a hand—or scythe. 

Coexistence with mankind... It might not have been entirely impossible. The Swarm had cooperated with the elves of Baumfetter, so perhaps they could cooperate with another nation, too. The Ripper Swarm that’d saved that child made the possibility seem real. 

The Arachnea was showing signs of change. It may have been categorized as an evil faction, but perhaps it was being reborn into something new. This process would take time, however. The people of the continent were still far too hostile toward it, and there were too many threats to the Swarm’s existence. 

So long as those threats remained, the Swarm would choose to keep on fighting. They would at times have to cast aside those merciful hearts and dye the world with blood like the murderous machines they were originally meant to be. 

The Nyrnal Empire was a major threat to the Arachnea. And so long as the Arachnea sought victory, it would prioritize that over mercy. The battle between man and monster—and between monster and monster—would continue without end. 

Still, there was hope that the world the Arachnea’s queen envisioned could become a reality. Furthermore, there was still hope for those who had died in the many battles which had taken place thus far. 

“I see it...! Oh, it’s a girl!” 

A newborn’s first cry echoed throughout the Dukedom of Schtraut. Her mother, her father, and their midwife watched over her with affection, blessing her new life. 

“She’s adorable... She looks just like you,” the child’s father said, picking up the infant and cradling her in his arms. 

“She sure does. What should we call her?” asked her mother. 

“How about... Isabelle? Not a bad name, right?” He rocked the baby back and forth in an attempt to quell its wails. 

“Yes... It’s a wonderful name, darling. Let’s go with Isabelle.” 

Neither of them had any knowledge of the Arachnea queen’s dear friend, the brave pirate who had been burned at the stake. These two had been trapped in the refugee camps at the time, so they’d had no way of witnessing what was happening in the outside world. 

Despite that, they had chosen to name their child Isabelle. What meaning did this gesture hold? What happened to those who died in this world? There were only a select few who knew the answer. 

A white world spread out as far as the eye could see. There stood a single girl likewise clad in white. Her skin was alabaster, and her straight hair was a dark ash blonde unadorned by even a single ornament. Her sapphire eyes were presently closed, and she tilted her head toward the white skies as if in prayer. 

“My dear _________,” Sandalphon murmured, “I believe you’ve been through a great deal of pain. I’m sorry to say that only more pain is in store for you. And still, we have no recourse but to rely on you. We can only put our faith in you and your immense strength.” 

Her voice was thick with regret. She opened her eyes once more. 

“We must trust in you if we are to save your soul from this closed-off world. We need you to keep moving forward. Together, we will destroy this vile game the devil made.” 

Sandalphon knew where that game was taking place, and she knew what happened to those who died within it. It was for this reason that she had resolved to destroy the game. The malicious creature who’d created this cruel scenario in the first place was not to be forgiven. 

“A person’s demise is terribly sad, but you must overcome that sorrow and move on. You must conquer that sadness by whatever means necessary, be it through vengeance or prayer. Should you stay still instead, you will have gone down the wrong path and played right into the devil’s hands. This is unacceptable; the game must be put to an end.” 

Sandalphon’s words were like a prayer. 

“I know it is terribly unpleasant that I can do nothing but watch over you and pray as you fight tooth and nail to survive in that world. But still, allow me the selfish wish to see you victorious. And the wish that you do not forget your human heart.” 

She squeezed her eyes shut. 

“In the name of our Lord, I forgive your sins. May you find salvation. And please, forgive me for being so helpless, and for not being able to be your guiding light.” 

As this gruesome tale unfolded, things were in motion behind the scenes. In the shadows, a greater, grander story was weaving its own words. 

The Popedom of Frantz had fallen, and the world was moving into a new age. With the Popedom’s defeat, the balance of power on the continent had shifted, torn between the Arachnea and the Empire of Nyrnal. Now that the allied army had been disbanded, the smaller countries scrambled in search of Nyrnal’s protection. The Empire, with its vast and powerful armies, was all too happy to oblige. 

The front lines extended from the Dukedom of Schtraut to the Popedom of Frantz, and both sides glared at each other from across the border. Unfortunately for the Empire, the chance of a successful attack on the Dukedom’s territories from Maluk’s side was exceedingly low; it had been forced to greatly divide its forces in order to occupy Maluk in the first place. 

However, the Arachnea’s queen did not know this. As such, if Nyrnal were to make a move, it would be not to the west, but to the east. The next battlefield was set to be the neutral state sandwiched between the two great powers: the Eastern Trade Union. 

Even now, the Eastern Trade Union shrugged off Nyrnal’s demands and showed no sign of surrendering to the Arachnea. The merchants knew the chance of their land becoming the next battlefield was high, but it wasn’t for certain. Would the Eastern Trade Union truly be the site of the next conflict? 

The answer to that question hinged on the command of Grevillea, the leader of the Arachnea, and Maximillian, the leader of Nyrnal. 

On this day, the Pleasure City of Khalkha glimmered like paradise yet again. All throughout the city, there was high-class wine, high-stakes gambling, beautiful women, burly men, elating narcotics, and cajoling jesters. Khalkha provided some pleasures that could be found elsewhere, but at the same time, this city was home to delights that could not be found anywhere else. 

The Popedom of Frantz had denounced it as a sinful den of immorality, but the people of Khalkha saw their city as the sole oasis in this desert of a world. Nevertheless, what would they do if their utopia became a battleground? The times of peace would soon come to an end, and an era of war would begin. 

Both the Nyrnal Empire and the Arachnea were eyeing the Eastern Trade Union like hungry hyenas. The nation’s riches and its infrastructure leading up to Nyrnal’s territory made it a tempting target. Additionally, whoever conquered this land would have an overwhelming advantage in the battles to come. 

Come, dear spectators. Watch the upcoming battle, and don’t dare to blink. The desperate struggle to the death will soon begin.