Her Majesty’s Swarm - Volume 3 - Chapter 8

The Seeping Poison 

Ever since the Dukedom fell, Schtraut’s surviving citizens had flocked to Frantz as refugees. Driven into the Popedom when the Swarm began building walls along the border, they were welcomed by the order of Pope Benedictus III. 

But what awaited them was not a sanctuary—it was a living hell. Inquisitors constantly patrolled the streets, and anyone who went against the Church of Holy Light’s tenets ever so slightly was promptly executed. The refugees had stumbled into a hunting ground for heretics. 

Prostitutes were the first to be burned at the stake; then came the beggars, then the merchants, and soon enough the executions became indiscriminate. The Dukedom’s refugees tried to flee to the Eastern Trade Union, but the inquisitors were also watching over checkpoints at the border, keeping a close eye on anyone trying to enter or exit the country. No one could escape the Popedom unless they showed devout faith in the God of Light. 

There was only one house of sinners untouched by the inquisition: a four-story building on the outskirts of Saania. 

“We’ve been waiting for you, good Father,” murmured a young woman wearing a revealing dress. 

“Lovely, thank you. The usual, if you would. Same wine as last time, too.” 

“As you wish.” 

This was a brothel. Prostitutes had been the first to burn for being an affront to God, but the prostitutes who served the clergy were given preferential treatment and spared from the inquisition. On paper, they were considered nuns of the Church of Holy Light. 

It was dreadfully hypocritical, to be sure, yet this sort of skulduggery often made the world go ’round. 

To begin with, the clergy was akin to nobility in the Popedom. The lower-ranking clergymen were another story, but the high-ranking ones were equal in status to the council members of the Eastern Trade Union or the high nobility in the Nyrnal Empire. 

People of their status wouldn’t dare relinquish pleasure from their lives. The same lips that loudly advocated the God of Light’s teachings in the morning spent evenings indulging in the sweet tastes of women and wine. 

“Everything’s ready for you, Father Jacquetta. Right this way.” 

The priest rose from his seat, eyes sparkling with excitement, and followed the woman to one of the rooms. 

“Now, make yourself at home.” As they reached the door, she regarded him with an alluring smile, then turned and walked away. 

“Daisy, I have a gift for you today,” the priest said, stepping inside. 

“My, a present? How wonderful!” The woman waiting within clapped her hands in delight. 

The silvery moonlight outlined her exposed thighs, and her skin was visible through the translucent fabric of her camisole. Mesmerized by the sensual sight, the priest swallowed hard. 

“Yes, I brought you this. Trade’s been stagnating because of the pirates, so I ordered it to be brought by caravan—a black pearl necklace from the Nabreej archipelago. It’s all yours.” 

“Oh, Jean, it’s lovely! Black pearls from Nabreej are rare, aren’t they?! Thank you!” 

The Nabreej archipelago was a chain of islands off the coast of the Eastern Trade Union. It had once been part of the union, but it had since declared independence and now functioned as its own mercantile country. 

This area was famous for its black pearls, which were often bought by noble ladies and worn for social occasions. Knowing this, Nabreej intentionally controlled the number of pearls being sold, ensuring their merchants could sell them at a high price. 

Father Jacquetta could not have cared less about the God of Light’s moral doctrines of honorable poverty. He was paid large amounts of money and made a show of his wealth by purchasing these black pearls. 

“Well, actually, I have a present for you, too,” Daisy purred. “Could you close your eyes for me, darling?” 

“Of course, my dear flower.” The priest closed his eyes, his lecherous imagination running wild. 

“Open your mouth.” 

Expecting a kiss, the priest did as he was told and parted his lips. And then, in the next moment... 

He felt something crawl inside his mouth. 

“Aaah!” His eyes widened as he tried to cough up the thing slithering into his throat. 

It was a Parasite Swarm. The bug quickly clung to his throat and extended its tentacles, assuming control over the priest’s body. The priest’s face slackened, losing all expression, as he turned around and left the room with wobbly steps. 

“Leaving already, Father?” asked the woman in the lobby. 

“Yes. Going home... for the day...” he replied and promptly left the building. 

“Good work.” A girl’s voice and the sound of dry clapping filled the lobby as soon as the priest was gone. “That makes ten of them... and half of them are part of the Popedom’s political core. Excellent work. Hats off to you, Madam Amelia.” 

“I’ve held up my end of the bargain, so where’s my reward?” replied Amelia, the woman presently in charge of the establishment. 

“It’s right here, of course. I believe you’ll find your share... generous.” Their visitor, the queen of the Arachnea, snapped her fingers. 

A man appeared at once, carrying a large wooden chest. He placed it on the floor with a thud, then used a crowbar to pry it open, revealing a heap of shining jewels. Rubies, sapphires, diamonds... Lady Amelia’s breath was caught in her throat at the sight of all these precious stones. 

“Can I... really have all this?” she asked, almost fearful. 

“Yep. In exchange, I expect you to work with me going forward. If you refuse, though, I’ll have to kill you.” 

Suddenly, the man’s face split in two, revealing a giant insectile head lined with sharp fangs. Amelia screeched at the sight and staggered back a few steps. She had already seen the former owner of the brothel eaten alive by a Masquerade Swarm. 

Today’s events could be traced back to roughly two months ago. On that day, a girl calling herself the queen of the Arachnea visited the brothel, accompanied by a Masquerade Swarm in the form of a manservant. Had the former owner of the brothel simply cooperated, he would have ended up with a great fortune on his hands. 

But he had refused, claiming they had their own ways of earning money—namely, secretly selling women to the clergy. As such, he saw no reason to take a risk with some unknown faction... and thus he was promptly devoured alive by the Masquerade Swarm. Its face had given way to a pair of fangs that crunched down upon the owner’s head, after which the man was reduced to nothing but a lump of flesh. 

Amelia had seen it all. The owner had often ordered her to engage with the customers, so she was unfortunately present for his gruesome demise. 

“You didn’t get along with him, did you?” the queen had asked afterward, her tone complacent. 

“N-No!” Amelia had replied hastily. “He treated us terribly, and he’d sell us to any disgusting pervert that would pay. Everyone hated him.” 

“Then I suppose I’ll turn to you instead. I want you to take over for him and run this place, then strike a deal with us. Is that clear? I promise you’ll be well-compensated for it.” 

Intimidated by the Masquerade Swarm’s deadly maw, Amelia had no option but to agree. In doing so, she secretly became a conspirator in the Arachnea’s shady plots. She stepped up as the new proprietor of the brothel while the Arachnea’s queen did her own work in the shadows. 

Every now and then, the queen would give one of the prostitutes some nasty bug and demand that they force it into the mouths of high-ranking clergymen, just as Daisy had done today. 

Amelia didn’t know if she actually stood to profit from this arrangement. True, she’d received an extravagant payment just now, but if the inquisitors were to peel back the curtain even a little, she would be in deep trouble. If she were to fail, she would either be killed by a Masquerade Swarm keeping watch over the brothel or burned to death by the inquisition. 

“You don’t need to worry about the inquisitors,” the queen said, as if reading Amelia’s thoughts. “The head of the inquisition has already visited this place, and he’s under our control. They won’t come here, at least, so long as you stick to using that mountain of jewels for all the right reasons. Not that there are too many ways of spending riches in this country nowadays. All the high-class shops were burned for opposing the virtue of honorable poverty, and if you spend too much money in a normal store, you’ll be executed. This country’s pretty much rationing by force.” 

The queen had hit the nail on the head. All the fancy clothing stores, jewelers, and restaurants had been marked as opposing the faith and burned to the ground with their owners locked up inside. The amount of goods sold in other stores was strictly regulated, making it so commoners could only buy so much. The Popedom was limiting the distribution of its precious goods in preparation for the war with the Arachnea. 

“I just hope these dark times end soon...” Amelia muttered tiredly. She bemoaned the fact that the people of Frantz had been divided into victims and informants, all in fear of the state. 

“Oh, they will. It will all be over soon.” The queen’s words were curt and foreboding all at once. 

Everything will come to an end... Very, very soon. 

Amelia didn’t realize that there was a great deal of truth to the mysterious woman’s words. 

“We now know who started the inquisition,” I proclaimed before the Swarm, which stood gathered in the large base we’d built between Schtraut and Frantz. “His name is Paris. Paris Pamphilj. He’s the one who reinstated the inquisition years after the concept was abolished, reigniting the hunt for heretics. Right now, the inquisition has its fingers in pretty much every aspect of the state. The inquisitors are effectively his secret police.” 

I uttered Paris’ name with disgust. Because of this man’s decisions, Isabelle had endured a torturous, agonizing death. The mere thought of it sent my hatred skyrocketing to a level that went beyond regular bloodlust. 

“In addition, we’ve confirmed that an organization called the Mystical Research Division is on the move. They’re an intelligence force looking into us and the Empire of Nyrnal. We’re not certain how much they know about us, but we can’t be careless.” 

I’d gained this information from an employee at the brothel. One of the prostitutes had used her womanly wiles to get one of her clients to talk before she infected him with a Parasite Swarm. The information he had was then relayed to me. 

The Mystical Research Division dealt with international investigations and counterintelligence, but it hadn’t been as active since the inquisition absorbed many of its responsibilities. It followed through on its remaining duties—which included digging up dirt on the Nyrnals and ourselves—with ardor. We had walled off our borders, but there was always the possibility those walls could be scaled. 

“As such, once preparations for plan A are complete, we will begin military operations in Frantz. You see, plan A involves wiping the Popedom off the map. We will split into three armies and carry out the operation from both the east and the west. We are to thoroughly and utterly erase all traces of Frantz’s existence.” 

Just as we had eliminated the Kingdom of Maluk, no traces of the Popedom of Frantz would remain. 

“Annihilate the Popedom of Frantz. That is an order.” Even to me, my voice sounded cold and firm. 

“A wise decision, Your Majesty,” Sérignan said. 

“They have to pay for what they did to the pirates,” Lysa added with a curt nod. 

“But Frantz is much larger than Maluk and stronger than Schtraut,” Roland noted. “Will we truly be all right?” 

I understood Roland’s doubts. Like he said, the Popedom of Frantz had more territory than the Kingdom of Maluk, and unlike the Dukedom of Schtraut, it was ready for this war and had developed countermeasures against the Swarm. 

“We intend to disrupt them during the next operation. I want the Popedom to suffer for what it has done. Paris Pamphilj most of all, for leading the inquisition.” 

I would make Paris pay. Isabelle wouldn’t have had to suffer so much if it weren’t for him and his damnable inquisition. If anyone deserved to experience her pain and humiliation, it was definitely him. 

“Your Majesty, aren’t your emotions running rather high?” Roland asked, his voice tinged with concern. 

“Nope. I’m the same as ever,” I replied stubbornly. “The Swarm’s collective consciousness drew me in, and I lost my human heart long ago. I don’t even count as human anymore, so I can’t possibly be emotional. Do the Swarms have emotions? They don’t, right? Then I’m just the same, since I’m part of the Swarm and all. My emotions aren’t running anywhere; they’re dead and buried by now. That’s the truth of it, Roland.” 

That’s right, I’m part of the Swarm. I can’t have emotions anymore. But, hmm... Haven’t the Swarms shown more feelings recently? Sérignan cries a great deal, and the other Swarms rejoice when they win. Aren’t those responses to their emotions? 

But no... I don’t have emotions. The Swarm doesn’t deal in retribution or vengeance. They don’t feel anger or sadness when faced with the death of someone who was special to them. 

For the Swarm, all was one and one was all. They only thought of the good of the collective, with no room for individuality. However, I had shown them what appeared to be emotional displays. The fact that I could shed tears when Isabelle died meant my emotions hadn’t been completely drowned out by the collective consciousness. 

Maybe I was still human, after all. Maybe I still had my human heart. At this moment, though, I couldn’t truly tell. 

“For now, we’ll need to disrupt the enemy army,” I told Sérignan. “Then we can start cooking them, little by little. An army without a chain of command is as brittle as a sand castle.” 

After that, I retired to my room. I crawled into bed, brooding. 

Why am I fighting in this world? Why do I keep losing the people I care about? Why am I... 

Before I knew it, I was back in my apartment. 

“Sandalphon?” I called out. 

Whenever I came here, that girl was there to greet me. This time, however... 

“My condolences, but Sandalphon isn’t present,” said a girl wearing all black. 

If memory served, her name was Samael. She twirled toward me with light, prancing steps and a nasty smile on her lips. A part of me felt frightened of Samael; something about her gave me a bad feeling. 

“You’re on the verge of destroying yet another country. That makes three already, right? Quite a lot of blood on your hands,” Samael said, still smiling. “You’re a mass murderer by now. I don’t think there’s a person alive who’s killed as many human beings as you have.” 

“Yes, I’ve certainly killed a lot of people,” I said. “But I regret nothing. Any murder I committed was necessary and justified. I only set out to kill when someone on my side was hurt. I don’t regret it one bit.” 

“Then what do you call this dark emotion brewing inside you?” Samael asked, tracing my chest with a finger. “There’s something pitch-black writhing around in here, _________. The truth is, you’ve stained your hands with needless murder, haven’t you? Isn’t your body just burning with a malicious desire for revenge? Aren’t you killing people because you want to see them die?” 

I couldn’t deny Samael’s words. I was trying to exact revenge for Isabelle. Upon her death, I resolved to completely obliterate the Popedom of Frantz. I was about to commit a massacre for my own personal satisfaction. The flames of my desire for vengeance had spread through the collective consciousness, growing into an inferno, and I was about to act on it. 

What I was about to do wasn’t really going to benefit us as a collective. It was a cruel act that would be done in the name of my—and, by extension, the collective consciousness’—craving for slaughter. 

“Go ahead and keep killing,” Samael told me. “Drench your hands in blood. Let the Swarm’s will take over and keep killing, reproducing, and killing even more. Destroy everyone and everything. Leave no one on that continent alive. Level the Popedom of Frantz, the Eastern Trade Union, the Empire of Nyrnal... Ruin all these nations and their citizens. Trample countries, cities, and people. Overrun it all, and obtain your bloodstained victory. The Swarm longs for it, too. They seek absolute victory, where everyone lies crushed beneath your feet. Only you can guide them.” 

Maybe submerging myself in the collective consciousness and blindly eradicating everything in our path was the right idea, after all. It would be easier that way. I wouldn’t have to feel anything anymore. No sadness, no anger, nothing. 

“Now go forth, and begin your march of massacre,” Samael said in a sing-songy tone. “Kill, and kill, and kill some more. Paint your path with blood and gore! Indulge in slaughter forevermore. 

“Slaughter is your mission, your role, and your duty. As the Arachnea’s queen, you will send droves of people to their deaths simply for the sake of your precious insects. So kill, and kill, and kill some more. 

“Slaughter is the Swarm’s joy. And I’m sure you can’t deny that, for no one knows the Swarm better than you do. It’s the same as the game. Everything is! You know, the game you love so much? Go on, surrender yourself to the collective.” 

She’s right. I just need to kill and keep killing. All I have to do is give up my heart and soul to the collective consciousness and take up the axe of the executioner. 

But at that very moment, a jolt ran through my body. 

“Silence, Samael,” said a dignified voice. 

“Sandalphon, is that you?” I asked. 

“Yes, it’s me, _________,” she answered, her white clothes practically a light in the darkness. “My heart aches for you; you are so deeply wounded. No one can understand your sorrow, and you must carry that pain all on your own. You are forced to play the part of the queen, and thus you cannot share your sadness with anyone else. Even if the Swarm were to feel your sorrow, they would not know how to comfort you. Solitude can be so very cold. Cold enough to turn one’s heart dreary and desolate.” 

Sandalphon reached out and gently held my hands. 

“But Sandalphon, I’m connected to the Swarm’s collective consciousness. I’m not human anymore. And... I’ve killed too many people. Letting the collective overtake me would be easier. I can’t stand to lose anyone else anymore.” 

The memory of Isabelle’s death surfaced in my mind, and tears began to drip down my cheeks. She had been such a brave, strong-willed pirate. We had only just tied our bonds of friendship, and I couldn’t bear losing her. I had lost many people dear to me already, and I could clearly tell my heart couldn’t take any more. 

“You don’t need to let the Swarm’s will consume you. You’re lashing out because someone close to you was murdered. It’s only natural to harbor such emotions; no one can blame you for that. It’s a perfectly human reaction, and it’s proof that your humanity is still intact.” 

“But I...” 

I was about to massacre countless people wholly unrelated to her murder. 

“Your anger runs deep. Finding fault with everyone around you is a natural response to sorrow. I will also say that these people cannot be called unrelated. The soldiers and inquisitors you aim to kill carry the sin of supporting this regime. One cannot call them unblemished souls. You are merely taking out your revenge on them.” 

“But is that really all right, Sandalphon...?” 

I was truly worried that my mind had already merged with the collective consciousness. If so, perhaps it would have been better to surrender myself to the Swarm’s will. 

“It is. Anger is a human emotion. Humans may be incomplete, but they are warmed with affection for others just as they are shaken by the currents of sorrow and joy. No man alive has complete control of his emotions. If you wanted to kill people without reason, I would have tried to stop you. But right now, your motives are clear, and that’s why I won’t deter you. Still, you mustn’t forget, _________...” 

Sandalphon gazed directly into my eyes. 

“You must never forget your human heart. Don’t indulge in meaningless slaughter. You have not yet been overtaken by the collective, so I want you to continue protecting your heart. It is absolutely necessary.” 

“Oho? Are you sure about that, Sandalphon?” Samael asked playfully. “Wasn’t this girl meant for judgment the moment she took a life for the first time? I’m right, aren’t I? Or maybe the moment she _______, her fate was already sealed?” 

“Silence, Samael.” Sandalphon shot her an icy glare. “She still possesses a human heart. That’s exactly why the malicious situation you’ve created gives her so much agony. 

“For now, return to where you belong, _________. I will save your soul soon enough. So long as you don’t forget your human heart.” 

“Wait, Sandalphon. Is this really—” 

Before I could finish, a sensation of freefall overwhelmed me. And as I fell, Sandalphon watched over me with a kind smile.