The Eccentric Entomologist is Now a Queen's Consort

The campfire crackled warmly, casting flickering shadows across the group huddled near it. Estella's laughter rang out, bright and unrestrained, as she teased Lira about the newfound glow on her face.

"Admit it, Lira," Estella said, a mischievous grin lighting up her features.

"Even as a maid, you've got to be the envy of noblewomen everywhere right now. This glow? They'd trade their pearls for it!"

Lira, ever composed, raised a delicate brow and inspected her hand with mock seriousness.

"Envy is such an exhausting emotion to manage, Estella. I'll leave that to others." Despite her nonchalant tone, the faintest hint of a smile tugged at her lips.

Estella's grin widened as she leaned closer.

"Oh, come on. You must be reveling in it just a little. Admit it."

"As much as you revel in behaving like a child?" Lira countered smoothly, her voice honeyed with sarcasm.

Even Cerys, seated off to the side, cracked a rare smile. The faint curve of her lips was fleeting, but it softened the perpetual sternness of her expression.

"You're both insufferable," she said, her tone carrying a trace of warmth beneath its usual bluntness.

The atmosphere around the fire was light, almost fragile in its camaraderie. Lira's elegance, Estella's bubbly energy, and Cerys's begrudging amusement created a harmony that felt rare amidst their usual tension.

Mikhailis leaned back against a nearby tree, his glasses catching the firelight. He watched the girls quietly, the corner of his lips curling into a faint smirk.

They act like they're at a gala instead of a makeshift camp. Guess I'll let them have this moment.

He adjusted his glasses, observing how the laughter softened the edges of their usually guarded expressions. It was a rare display of humanity amidst their otherwise somber journey, and for a brief moment, he allowed himself to bask in it.

<Mikhailis. Focus.>

Rodion's sharp, formal voice cut through his thoughts, dragging him back to reality.

<The target isn't going to wait for you to stop daydreaming.>

Mikhailis sighed, tilting his head as though to stretch. "Yeah, yeah. I'm on it," he muttered under his breath, his tone laced with reluctant acknowledgment. Straightening up, he cast one last glance at the group before turning his attention inward.

Can't let my guard down, not even for a second.

Rodion's data streams flickered across his glasses, overlaying his vision with a mesmerizing array of tactical information. The intricate overlay mapped out every detail: the dim glow of the campfire, the crumbled outlines of the village ruins in the distance, and the faint, ghostly trails left by the Radiant Order operatives. Mikhailis's senses heightened, his thoughts clicking into place like well-oiled gears as he locked onto the task at hand.

<Analysis of operative movements complete. The Hypnoveil is en route and will arrive within two minutes. Recommended strategy: disorient the group, isolate the weakest operative, and secure the perimeter to prevent interference.>

"Sounds like a solid plan," Mikhailis said, his voice low. He adjusted his glasses again, issuing silent commands to the chimera ants. Through their shared link, he visualized the movements of the Scurabons and soldier ants as they began positioning themselves around the target zone. Each step was precise, deliberate, and utterly silent.

The firelight flickered, and the girls' laughter continued, a stark contrast to the cold efficiency unfolding beyond the camp. Mikhailis's smirk returned briefly.

They're oblivious, and that's for the best.

<The operatives are maintaining a triangular formation. Probability of them detecting our approach: 12%.>

"Let's keep it that way," Mikhailis murmured. His gaze flicked toward the faint outline of the ruined village, his mind racing through possible contingencies.

Rodion's voice interjected again, calm and precise.

<The Hypnoveil will establish a confusion radius. Optimal timing will ensure minimal resistance. Proceed with caution.>

Mikhailis adjusted his glasses and issued a firm command, his voice low but clear. "Scurabons, flank and hold position. Soldiers, defensive perimeter. Keep it tight and silent." His fingers twitched slightly, almost imperceptibly, as the ants responded instantly to his directives. The Scurabons moved with lethal precision, their armored forms melting into the jagged ruins like shadows merging with the night. The soldier ants took up defensive stances, their chitinous bodies coiled with latent power, ready to intercept any threat that dared approach.

Mikhailis watched through the shimmering feed projected onto his glasses, his sharp gaze tracking the operatives' synchronized movements. "Rodion, confirm their positions and alert me to deviations," he murmured, his tone edged with intensity.

<Confirmed. All operatives remain within designated zone. Triangular formation intact. Probability of detection remains below 12%.>

"Perfect," Mikhailis muttered, his smirk faint but present. He flicked a hand, signaling the next phase. The ants shifted seamlessly, adjusting their formation to tighten the noose around the unsuspecting targets. Every movement was deliberate, every step silent as they closed in, their positions optimized for maximum efficiency.

His gaze darted to one of the operatives who crouched near a shattered ward stone, their fingers tracing the scorched runes etched into its surface. The other two stood guard, their postures alert but betrayed by the slightest hesitation in their eyes. "Rodion, isolate the youngest. Their hesitation will cost them," he ordered.

Mikhailis leaned back against a tree, feigning a relaxed demeanor as he kept his focus on the unfolding operation. "Keep it clean and quiet," he muttered under his breath. "We're ghosts tonight."

Through the ants' multifaceted vision, Mikhailis observed the operatives—a trio cloaked in dark fabric, their movements deliberate and synchronized. One figure crouched near a shattered ward stone, their fingers tracing the scorched runes etched into its surface. The other two stood guard, their postures rigid, their gazes scanning the perimeter.

They're disciplined, I'll give them that. But they're not expecting company.

Rodion's voice cut through his thoughts again.

<Target identified. The younger operative exhibits signs of inexperience and hesitation. Recommended priority: isolate and subdue.>

"Noted," Mikhailis replied softly. He leaned back against the tree, feigning a relaxed demeanor as he continued to monitor the feed. His fingers tapped lightly against his knee, his mind calculating the next steps with practiced precision.

The Hypnoveil arrived silently, its translucent form shimmering faintly as it descended through the mist. Its ethereal presence seemed to ripple outward, distorting the air around it. Mikhailis watched as the operatives stiffened, their movements faltering under the subtle wave of confusion.

Showtime.

He signaled the ants, who moved with surgical precision. The Scurabons darted forward, their movements almost imperceptible as they closed in on the younger operative. The soldier ants flanked the group, their imposing forms creating an invisible barrier that cut off any potential escape routes.

The younger operative turned sharply, their hand reaching for a dagger at their side. But the Hypnoveil's influence took hold, their movements slowing as confusion clouded their expression. The Scurabons struck swiftly, their chitinous legs pinning the operative with calculated force. The struggle was brief, the target subdued with minimal noise.

<Target secured. Extraction in progress.>

Mikhailis exhaled quietly, his smirk returning. That went smoother than expected.

But the calm was short-lived. One of the remaining operatives reached into their cloak, producing a glowing, rune-inscribed device. The faint hum of energy radiated from it, the light intensifying as the figure prepared to activate it.

<Warning: Reinforcement flare detected. Immediate action required.>

"No kidding," Mikhailis muttered. He issued a sharp command to the ants, his voice low but urgent. A chimera soldier lunged forward, its powerful mandibles snapping through the device with a satisfying crunch. The flare's glow flickered and died, but the sudden motion drew the attention of the remaining operatives. Enjoy new stories from My Virtual Library Empire

"Who's there?" one of them hissed, their voice sharp with suspicion. They drew their weapons, their gazes sweeping the darkness.

Rodion's voice was calm despite the rising tension.

<Probability of detection: 34%. Recommend retreat with secured target. Cover tracks to prevent pursuit.>

Mikhailis's mind raced.

No need to engage. Get in, get out.

"Pull back," he whispered. The ants moved swiftly, their formations shifting as they withdrew into the shadows. The subdued operative was dragged silently into the cover of the ruins, their struggles weak and uncoordinated under the Hypnoveil's lingering influence.

The remaining operatives hesitated, their movements cautious as they scanned the perimeter. Their formation tightened, their postures defensive, but they made no move to pursue.

They're spooked but not reckless. Good.

The retreat was seamless. The chimera ants left no trace of their presence, their movements efficient and calculated. Mikhailis watched through the feed, his tension easing as the distance between them and the operatives grew.

<Extraction complete. Target secured. Returning to base.>

Mikhailis let out a quiet breath, his shoulders relaxing slightly. He turned his attention to the captured operative, now bound and unconscious near the edge of the camp. The scarred emblem on their wrist caught his eye, its jagged lines glowing faintly in the dim light.

Radiant Order, huh? Let's see what secrets you're hiding.

He crouched beside the figure, studying their youthful features and the emblem's intricate design. His fingers brushed the edge of the mark, careful not to disturb it. "Let's hope you've got answers," he muttered.

The sound of laughter drew his attention back to the fire. The girls were still engrossed in their banter, oblivious to the tension that had just unfolded. Estella's voice rang out, teasing and light, while Lira's sarcastic retorts kept the mood lively.

Mikhailis leaned against a tree, adjusting his glasses as he reviewed the feed from Rodion one last time. The ants were already returning to their positions, their work done for now. He allowed himself a faint smirk, the weight of the mission momentarily lifting.

At least we won't get caught by surprise this way.