The Eccentric Entomologist is Now a Queen's Consort

Mikhailis crouched low, his eyes darting around to make sure Cerys was still focused on their surroundings. He took a deep breath, letting the air fill his lungs, and then whispered.

"Rodion, give me a full analysis on these Thorncrawlers."

<Thorncrawlers are nocturnal creatures, aggressive by nature, with hardened shells covered in thorn-like protrusions. Their average size approximates that of a large canine, making them significantly larger than previously implied by the village head. They inhabit dense underbrush, utilizing natural camouflage to protect themselves. They thrive in numbers but are notably weak when isolated. Their shells are highly resistant to most forms of physical attack, but the Thorncrawlers exhibit vulnerability to extreme heat—a weakness that could potentially be exploited. Additionally, these creatures exhibit territorial behavior and heightened aggression when their nests are disturbed.>

Figures they'd be dog-sized, Mikhailis thought, his lips curling up in amusement.

Leave it to the village head to sugarcoat things. He nodded to himself, mentally marking the key points of Rodion's analysis.

Fire, huh? Good to know, but I'm not keen on burning down the whole forest.

He glanced over at Cerys, who was carefully scanning the forest ahead, her eyes sharp as ever. She seemed fully committed to this quest—her focus unbreakable. He couldn't help but smile to himself.

I wonder if she'd get mad if I called her adorable while she's all intense like that.

They proceeded further into the woods, following the directions the young boy had given them. The forest grew denser with each step, the light from above flickering through the thick canopy, casting mottled shadows across the ground. Mikhailis walked in silence, his eyes flicking back and forth, occasionally whispering questions to Rodion.

<Mikhailis. The creatures leave subtle tracks—observe the scratches on the bark. Those are likely markers of their territorial boundary. Additionally, the distinct, pungent odor should signal proximity to their burrowing site.>

Mikhailis crinkled his nose. Sure enough, an earthy, slightly sour scent lingered in the air. He raised a brow, amused.

Rodion, you weren't kidding. Smells like something died here.

Cerys, a few steps ahead, crouched down, examining some faint footprints embedded in the dirt.

"Look," she said, gesturing.

"Footprints—and they're fresh. We're getting close."

Mikhailis knelt beside her, examining the tracks. The prints were deep, heavy, and unmistakably larger than he'd anticipated. He glanced at Cerys, raising his brows.

"You think the village head's ever seen one of these up close? Because I'm beginning to doubt it."

She gave him a sidelong glance, a ghost of a smile flickering across her lips.

"Most likely not," she said, her voice laced with dry humor.

"But that's what we're here for, right?"

They exchanged a look—a mixture of shared amusement and mutual understanding—before they continued on, following the increasingly obvious signs. Scratches on tree trunks, tufts of grass torn up and scattered, and that pungent, telltale scent growing stronger. The forest seemed to grow quieter the closer they got, as if the other animals knew well enough to keep their distance.

Finally, they came upon a small clearing, and they crouched low, hiding behind a cluster of bushes. In the middle of the clearing was the Thorncrawler nest—a tangled mess of brambles, dirt, and thorny branches, formed into a massive mound that stretched across several feet in diameter.

Mikhailis's eyes widened at the sight.

"The village head said they were small... That's not small," he whispered, keeping his voice low as he studied the creatures skittering around the nest.

The Thorncrawlers were far from the pests he'd envisioned. Each one was at least the size of a large dog, their shells covered in wicked-looking thorns that glistened under the dim light. They moved in jerky, aggressive motions, their mandibles clicking together in what seemed like irritation.

Rodion's voice sounded in his ear once again.

<Analysis confirms an active nest consisting of approximately forty-two Thorncrawlers. Be advised, Mikhailis, their size and numbers make them formidable adversaries for the villagers. Their aggressive tendencies, coupled with their thorny exoskeletons, account for the recent disruption to local agriculture.>

Mikhailis nodded, his expression thoughtful.

"No wonder they've been making the villagers' lives hard," he muttered.

"These things aren't just pests—they're practically beasts." He watched the Thorncrawlers for a moment longer, then sighed.

It would be so much easier if I could just send my Chimera Ants in to handle this... It'd be over in minutes.

He shook his head slightly, dismissing the thought.

But Cerys doesn't know about them yet, and I'd need Elowen's permission to reveal them to anyone. So, for now, it's the old-fashioned way.

He glanced at Cerys, who was observing the nest with an intense focus.

"Alright," he whispered.

"What's the plan?"

Cerys turned her head slightly, her eyes meeting his. She was calm, composed, and utterly serious. "I'll take point," she said, her voice barely audible.

"I'll draw a few of them out, and we'll handle them one by one. You stay back, keep your distance, and use that net when the time is right."

Mikhailis raised his hands in mock surrender, though the mischievous glint in his eyes was undeniable.

"Alright, Lone Wolf. I'll leave the heavy work to you." He paused, then patted his belt, where a small dagger rested.

"But just in case... I can't promise I'll just stand there."

Cerys shook her head, a sigh escaping her lips.

"You really can't help yourself, can you?"

"Not when it comes to protecting you when you're in danger, Lass," he said, his voice taking on a more sincere tone. He gave her a crooked smile.

"Besides, what kind of partner would I be if I just sat back and watched?"

Her gaze softened, and for a moment, she looked like she might argue. But then she nodded, a reluctant smile tugging at her lips.

"Just... try not to get in over your head."

Mikhailis grinned.

"Wouldn't dream of it."

Together, they moved closer to the clearing, keeping low and using the underbrush for cover. Cerys signaled for Mikhailis to hang back while she crept forward, inching closer to the edge of the clearing. Her eyes scanned the nest, her body tensed, ready to move at a moment's notice. She drew her sword, the blade glinting faintly in the light filtering through the canopy.

Mikhailis watched her, his heart pounding in his chest—a mix of adrenaline and something else entirely. He trusted Cerys, knew she was more than capable, but there was always that small knot of worry that twisted in his gut whenever she put herself in harm's way. He gripped the enchanted net tightly, his gaze flicking between her and the Thorncrawlers.

Cerys took a deep breath, then stepped forward, her foot crunching softly against the leaves. The Thorncrawlers' heads shot up, their mandibles clicking rapidly as they turned towards the source of the noise. One of them let out a high-pitched screech, and in an instant, three of the creatures broke away from the nest, their thorn-covered legs skittering across the ground as they charged towards her.

"Here we go," Mikhailis whispered to himself, his eyes narrowing as he prepared to act.

Cerys moved with precision, her sword cutting through the air as she deflected the first Thorncrawler's attack. She twisted her body, avoiding a swipe from another, her movements fluid and controlled. She struck out, her blade finding a weak spot between the thorns, and one of the creatures let out a screech before collapsing.

Mikhailis watched, his fingers tightening around the net. He waited for the right moment—the instant when one of the Thorncrawlers broke away from the others, leaving itself vulnerable. He stepped forward, throwing the net with practiced accuracy. The enchanted vines wrapped around the creature, tightening as it struggled, its mandibles clicking furiously. Your next read awaits at My Virtual Library Empire

"Got one!" Mikhailis called out, his voice low but triumphant.

Cerys glanced back at him, her lips curving into a brief smile before she turned her attention back to the remaining Thorncrawlers. She moved with purpose, her sword a blur as she cut through their defenses. Mikhailis moved to her side, keeping his distance but ready to act if needed, his eyes scanning for any sign of more approaching creatures.

The Thorncrawlers were relentless, their aggression unyielding as they attacked in quick succession. Cerys dodged and parried, her movements growing more aggressive as she fought to keep them at bay. Mikhailis watched, his heart pounding, ready to jump in if things got too dangerous.

One of the Thorncrawlers lunged at Cerys, its thorny legs poised to strike, and Mikhailis reacted instinctively. He stepped forward, his dagger flashing as he aimed for the creature's exposed underbelly. The blade found its mark, and the Thorncrawler let out a screech before collapsing.

Cerys shot him a look, her expression caught between exasperation and gratitude.

"I thought I told you to stay back."

Mikhailis shrugged, giving her a lopsided smile.

"I couldn't help it. Besides, you're not the only one who can handle a bit of danger."

She shook her head, but there was a warmth in her eyes that hadn't been there before.

"Just... be careful, alright?"

"Always," Mikhailis replied, his smile softening.

They turned their attention back to the nest, the remaining Thorncrawlers watching them with what almost seemed like caution. Mikhailis could feel the adrenaline coursing through him, his senses heightened as they prepared for the next wave. He glanced at Cerys, their eyes meeting for a brief moment—a silent understanding passing between them.

"Ready?" she whispered, her voice barely audible over the rustling of the leaves.

Mikhailis nodded, his gaze steady.

"Whenever you are."