As the group advanced deeper between the trees, the forest began to close in around them.
The air grew dense. Humid. Hard to breathe.
Sunlight no longer illuminated the path—only barely filtered through, fractured and faint, as if something were devouring it before it could touch the ground.
And then—
the buzzing came.
Low.
Constant.
Almost imperceptible… yet impossible to ignore once you noticed it.
It wasn't a sound.
It was a vibration.
Something you could feel in your teeth… in your bones.
Thunder was the first to react.
His body tensed, and blue sparks began to crackle across his silvery fur. It wasn't aggression.
It was warning.
—What's going on…? —Lusian muttered, lowering his voice slightly as he adjusted the reins.
His eyes scanned the forest.
Still.
Too still.
Then—
a flash.
Fast.
Yellow.
Something shot between the trees at a speed impossible to follow.
And in the next instant—
impact.
A mass slammed into the ground a few meters away, erupting in a blast of dirt, dry leaves, and shattered branches.
The knights reacted instantly, forming a defensive line.
When the dust settled…
they saw it.
A bee.
Huge.
Almost the size of a horse.
Its wings vibrated at such a high frequency that the air around it distorted. The buzzing was now deafening, heavy, as if it were trying to force its way into their heads.
Its black eyes… didn't blink.
They watched.
They calculated.
Lusian felt something uneasy crawl up his spine.
It wasn't just a creature.
It was precision.
Albert didn't hesitate.
One step forward.
A clean pivot.
His sword traced a perfect arc—and the insect's wings fell to the ground.
Before the creature could react—
the blade pierced its head.
Clean.
Direct.
The bee convulsed, its legs twitching violently, and a thick violet liquid began to slowly spill onto the earth.
Then—
nothing.
Silence.
But not relief.
Albert didn't lower his guard.
He crouched slightly, frowning as he studied the corpse.
—There's a swarm nearby —he said.
It wasn't an assumption.
It was certainty.
The group tensed.
—Individually, they're Class C… —he continued, not taking his eyes off the insect—. But in a group…
He looked up.
—A hundred of these things… could take down even a high-level magical beast.
The silence grew heavier.
One of the knights spoke, uncertain:
—We could… try to capture them. Their venom—
—Five or six would die before that happens.
Albert didn't raise his voice.
But he cut him off cleanly.
—Not worth it.
No one argued.
Lusian looked at the bee's body.
The size.
The stinger.
The structure.
And then he imagined a hundred of them.
His brow tightened slightly.
—That dangerous…?
Albert nodded.
—More than they look.
He nudged the corpse with his foot, turning it over.
—Their venom doesn't just destroy tissue.
A pause.
—It blocks mana flow.
That changed everything.
Not pain.
Inefficiency.
Uselessness.
Lusian felt a faint chill run down his spine.
Without mana… in this world…
you were flesh.
Nothing more.
Albert then looked up at him.
And subtly pointed to his ear.
—That artifact… will save your life.
Lusian blinked, touching the silver piercing on his ear.
—This?
He didn't remember it.
Albert raised an eyebrow.
—It's from House Douglas.
Of course it was.
—It injects mana into itself and activates a purification spell. It neutralizes most poisons… almost instantly.
Lusian examined it more closely.
Small.
Discreet.
But lethally valuable.
—"Most"…?
Albert didn't answer immediately.
That silence made it worse.
—There are three it can't stop.
The forest seemed to grow even quieter.
—Two are so rare you'll likely never encounter them.
A pause.
Shorter.
Heavier.
—The third… won't give you time.
Lusian didn't look away.
—What does it do?
Albert met his gaze directly.
—It paralyzes the body.
Another pause.
—And cuts off mana flow within seconds.
The air turned cold.
—If it hits you… —he added— you won't be able to activate anything.
Not even that artifact.
Not even react.
Nothing.
Lusian swallowed slowly.
For a moment—
he imagined his own body frozen.
Immobilized.
Conscious.
Unable to use mana.
Unable to move.
Waiting.
The buzzing returned.
Stronger.
Closer.
It wasn't one.
It wasn't two.
The forest…
was alive.
And it was surrounding them.
Silence fell again.
Heavy.
Dense.
Expectant.
Sunlight fractured through the mist and branches, casting irregular patterns across the damp ground. Nothing moved… except that sound.
The buzzing.
Distant.
Constant.
Each breath seemed to amplify it, as if the forest itself were forcing it into their ears.
Reminding them—
that in Cymopelia, even the small things could kill.
Albert stepped forward.
—Keep your eyes open —he ordered, his voice firm, not raised—. If the buzzing increases… do not fight.
A pause.
—Fall back. Magical barriers. Prioritize survival.
It wasn't a warning.
It was a lifeline.
—I will not let a swarm erase us.
Lusian didn't respond.
He was watching the bee's corpse.
The venom was still slowly bubbling into the ground, as if it were still alive. The air around it felt… sick.
The forest wasn't just dangerous.
It was hostile.
Hungry.
Thunder snorted.
A spark ran through his body.
Lusian tightened the reins slightly.
—Let's move… —he muttered—. This is only the beginning.
It wasn't courage.
It was acceptance.
Then—
hurried footsteps.
The scouts returned.
Their pace… too fast.
Too tense.
—The hive —one of them reported, breathing hard—. It's close.
Albert didn't interrupt.
—Approximately… one hundred and thirty individuals.
An immediate silence fell over the group.
Lusian frowned.
One hundred and thirty.
In another world, it would be insignificant.
Here…
it was a death sentence.
His mind worked quickly.
In his previous life, a hive could hold tens of thousands. But here… the logic was different.
More mana.
Fewer numbers.
Greater individual power.
Balance.
Always balance.
Albert clenched his jaw slightly.
—If they all attack at once…
He didn't finish the sentence.
He didn't need to.
—Not even Thunder could protect us —he added finally—. We would die.
The decision was obvious.
Retreat.
Survive.
But Lusian didn't look away from the faint trail of smoke rising between the trees.
The hive.
The core.
The honey.
Power.
In the game… this would be an opportunity.
Here…
it was a gamble.
And gambles… demanded lives.
Still—
he didn't speak immediately.
He thought.
Calculated.
Remembered.
Then—
—Albert…
His voice was calm.
Too calm.
—We can do it.
The veteran looked at him.
—How?
—By splitting them.
A pause.
—Four attack points. X formation. Distance between squads.
His eyes didn't waver.
—The swarm will lose cohesion. They'll break apart.
Silence.
The knights exchanged glances.
Albert didn't react immediately.
He studied him.
—Where did you learn that?
A heartbeat.
—Trhuin —Lusian replied—. Adventurers. Similar nests.
A lie.
A truth.
Both.
Albert crossed his arms.
—If you're wrong… men will die.
No reproach.
Only weight.
Real.
—Can you carry that?
For a moment, Lusian hesitated.
Just a moment.
But it was real.
In the game… no one died.
Here…
anyone could.
He tightened his grip on the reins.
—Yes.
It didn't sound heroic.
It sounded necessary.
Albert held his gaze for a few more seconds.
Then—
he nodded.
—Good.
He turned to the group.
—Form into four squads. Three knights and one mage per unit.
His voice changed.
Harder.
—Fire as primary element.
A pause.
—Do not fail.
The group moved with precision.
Fast.
Silent.
Trained.
Albert raised his hand.
His sword began to burn.
—Now.
The attack came instantly.
Fireballs streaked through the air and detonated against the hive.
The forest answered.
The buzzing—
exploded.
It wasn't sound.
It was a wave.
A brutal vibration that shook the air, the ground, the chest.
The bees emerged.
Dozens.
Dark.
Furious.
And just as Lusian had predicted—
they split.
Four directions.
Four fronts.
The plan worked.
Until—
—Contact front!
Lusian's group took the worst of it.
Twenty-nine.
Too many.
Thunder reacted first.
A neigh.
And the world turned blue.
The electrical discharge expanded in a brutal radius, tearing through earth and air at once. Several bees dropped instantly, their bodies convulsing before crashing to the ground.
Lusian felt nothing.
No pain.
No recoil.
The bond protected him completely.
But the knights—
were forced back.
The lightning didn't kill them.
But it made them yield ground.
Mistake.
Five bees broke through the discharge.
They didn't stop.
They went straight for him.
Lusian turned.
Mana at the edge.
Calculation.
Trajectory.
But—
Albert arrived first.
One motion.
Two bodies split.
No pause.
No effort.
—Now!
The knights reacted.
Coordinated strikes.
Precision.
The remaining three fell in seconds.
But there was no time to breathe.
On the other fronts—
shouts.
Impacts.
Magic.
One knight dropped to his knees.
A sting.
Another.
Two more.
But the potions activated immediately.
The system worked.
Barely.
Very barely.
The fight lasted minutes.
But it felt longer.
Much longer.
Until—
the last buzzing faded.
Silence returned.
But it wasn't the same.
The air smelled of smoke.
Burned flesh.
Honey.
Sweet.
Cloying.
Wrong.
Albert scanned the field.
Assessing.
Counting.
—Twenty-one killed before contact… —he murmured.
He looked up at Lusian.
—It worked better than expected.
Lusian didn't respond.
He only lowered his gaze.
He breathed in.
Slow.
Heavy.
No one had died.
But for the first time—
he understood something with absolute clarity:
He had been… very close.
Albert didn't celebrate.
He didn't give unnecessary orders.
He simply raised his hand.
—Regroup. We move forward.
His gaze wasn't on the corpses.
It was farther ahead.
—The queen is still alive.
The group immediately tensed.
The bees had never been the real problem.
They never had been.
The heart… was always the problem.
They moved on.
Slow.
Compact.
Each step deeper into the forest made the air denser. Heavier.
And then—
the buzzing returned.
But it was no longer distant.
It was deep.
Low.
Like something massive breathing in the dark.
Thunder stopped.
Not on command.
On instinct.
Blue sparks ran through his body.
Lusian didn't speak.
He had already felt it.
Something… was waiting for them.
Then they saw it.
The hive.
Open.
Alive.
Pulsing.
And from within—
it emerged.
The queen.
Colossal.
Far larger than Lusian remembered.
Her body was covered in black, crystallized plates, as if mana itself had solidified across her exoskeleton. Every movement produced a dry, unnatural crack.
Four guardians descended around her.
They weren't ordinary bees.
They were… protectors.
Larger.
Heavier.
Slower—
but with a presence that weighed on the air.
Albert didn't need to speak.
The group was already in position.
But Lusian…
Lusian didn't look away.
"This isn't like the game."
There, the queen had been dangerous.
Here—
she was overwhelming.
He felt the pulse of mana in his chest.
Strong.
Rhythmic.
Almost synchronized with the creature.
—Now —he whispered.
Thunder reacted before the word even faded.
A lightning strike.
Literal.
The impact was brutal.
The discharge tore through the air and slammed directly into the queen, blowing apart part of her carapace in a shower of black fragments and blue sparks.
But—
she didn't fall.
The sound she emitted wasn't a buzz.
It was a roar.
The guardians moved at the same time.
Too fast for their size.
Lusian jumped.
The world slowed.
A moment.
A calculation.
An opening.
His sword descended.
Concentrated mana.
Absolute precision.
The strike landed.
Deep.
Diagonal.
The queen split—
but not completely.
Her body twisted violently, releasing a shockwave that forced several knights back.
—Watch out!
Albert intercepted one of the guardians, his blade wrapped in fire.
Impact.
Explosion.
The knights entered combat.
No clean formation.
No full control.
It was pressure.
Constant.
Dangerous.
One of the guardians broke through a barrier and slammed into a knight, throwing him against a tree. The impact sounded dry.
Another was struck by a stinger—
a scream—
but the potion activated in time.
Barely.
Very barely.
Lusian turned.
Finishing blow.
No margin this time.
His sword pierced the queen's core.
And that—
was it.
Her body collapsed.
Heavy.
Final.
The guardians fell soon after, one by one, under the combined pressure of the group.
And then—
silence.
But not immediate relief.
No one lowered their weapon right away.
No one breathed easily.
Because everyone knew—
it had been close.
Too close.
Albert walked to the queen's body.
He studied the cut.
Then looked at Lusian.
And nodded.
—Good work, young master.
It wasn't empty praise.
It was real recognition.
—Not many would have made that decision… and lived.
Lusian didn't answer immediately.
He only exhaled.
Slow.
Tired.
In the game… this would have been routine.
Here…
it had been a risk.
Real.
That night, the forest didn't seem as hostile.
But it didn't feel safe either.
The camp was set up in a narrow clearing. The mages traced runes into the ground—lines of energy that glowed faintly, forming an almost invisible perimeter.
Orbs of light floated in the air like captive stars.
Too still.
Too ordered.
Albert arranged the watches without raising his voice.
The knights obeyed without question.
Today… they had seen enough.
Lusian sat by the fire.
The flames cast golden reflections across his armor.
The warmth was real.
Comforting.
Unlike everything else.
When Albert brought out the jar of honey, the atmosphere shifted.
Not because of greed.
Because of respect.
"With the young master's permission…" he said.
Lusian nodded.
"We earned it."
There was no celebration.
Only a restrained silence as the honey passed from hand to hand.
A single spoonful.
Enough.
The effect was immediate.
The warmth wasn't superficial.
It was internal.
Deep.
As if something inside the body… was being rearranged.
Muscles loosening.
Breathing steadying.
Mana flowing more clearly.
Lusian felt it too.
Not like an explosion.
Like balance.
That made it more dangerous.
Albert studied the jar, thoughtful.
"High mana concentration…" he murmured. "This forest isn't normal."
Charles added, without looking away:
"An underground source, most likely."
A pause.
"If we gather more… this could change a lot of things."
The knights said nothing.
But in their eyes—
there was something new.
Ambition.
Hope.
Need.
Lusian watched them in silence.
And then he truly understood.
In his previous world, power was earned.
Here…
it was eaten.
He closed his eyes for a moment.
Feeling the flow within his body.
Stable.
Growing.
Dangerous.
And a thought settled in, cold and clear:
In this world…
whoever controls the food…
controls the power.