On the edge of the Tanzan Desert.
The queen ant, dragged out as Rick's shield, died from excessive fluid loss and was discarded on the road as they fled. But the soldier ants, driven by their instinct to protect the queen, halted their pursuit, milling aimlessly around her corpse—a stroke of luck for Rick.
During their escape, they hadn't even paused to tend to the stolen eggs, racing nearly a hundred miles overnight until clear of Black Tiger Ant territory. Now they stood on the northern fringe of the Tanzan Desert—technically, the domain of Ison City in the Mountain Region. Yet Ison's lord showed no interest in this wasteland; the village they finally found had been abandoned for ages.
Sheltered in a half-ruined cottage, they lit a fire. The bedraggled group collapsed around the flames, gasping for breath and tending to their wounds. Now their six-person team included Balzac, the former enemy with a Dragon Louse—an awkward addition. Recent events had been too surreal; everyone needed time to process—and to consider their futures.
Lav, the insect expert, sorted the surviving eggs. Moya had lost both packs in the fighting, and many eggs in their pockets had cracked during the chaos. After nursing what was left, she announced only 58 eggs remained intact—39 were worker ant eggs.
The paltry number disappointed everyone. They'd carried nearly a thousand from the nursery, only to lose all but a fraction—most of them low-value worker eggs. "Dammit, if my packs had survived..." Moya kicked apart the fire, his anger taking Rick aback—he'd been the one to snatch the pack.
"Moya..." Rick hesitated, rising to console him.
"Shut up! I need space!" Moya snapped, rarely lashing out as he stormed outside. Rant shot Rick a look, followed, and pulled Moya to where the Black Tiger Ant king was tethered.
Inside, silence fell again. Lav and Anna bit their lips; Shust reclined on hay, eyes closed; Balzac watched Rick expectantly, curious about his next move. At last, Rick sighed, added kindling to the dying fire.
Soon Rant returned with Moya, whose mood had stabilized. Rick relaxed. Disappointed by the lack of drama, Balzac nonetheless asked pointedly: "How will you divide these eggs? True, it's fewer than you took, but even a hunter group as large as the Wolf Pack never harvested more than this in a year at full strength—and these include 19 Demonic-class combat eggs."
Indeed, though the number seemed meager, assessing the eggs' value was staggering. On the black market, 19 Demonic-class soldier ant eggs alone fetched 9.5 million Golden Beetle Coins, while 39 worker ant eggs added at least 390,000—nearly 10 million Golden Beetles total. With a 1:100 Gold-to-Silver exchange rate, these 58 eggs were worth a mind-blowing 1 billion Silver Beetle Coins.
Balzac's reminder jolted everyone awake. Even Shust, feigning sleep, opened his eyes, fixing Balzac with a sharp, meaningful glance. Under that piercing stare, Balzac shifted uneasily. "Don't look at me like that—I want no share."
"I care not for money. I ask: what do you want now?" Shust lay still, but Balzac knew one wrong move would cost him his head.
"Fair enough, my question was blunt." Balzac shrugged, smiling. "But you must face it. Better to air concerns now than let them fester."
His words silenced the group. At last, Rick, their nominal leader, spoke: "He's right. We must address this. Anna, Rant—we came here with different goals. Best to clarify now." He looked to Anna, silently asking her share.
Flushed under Rick's gaze, Anna felt a shift. Her time with Rick had changed her; for the first time, she longed to stay by his side. "I want to follow Rick. I need no eggs—just food and shelter."
"What?!" All gaped. Anna's greed was legendary—her refusal of such wealth shocked them more than the Black Tiger Ant king submitting to Rant.
"Are you sure?" Rick pressed.
"Absolutely. I know my choice and will never regret it." Anna spoke passionately, her eyes locked on Rick—a barely veiled confession. Shust smirked, giving Rick a thumbs-up, making him blush.
"Rant, your thoughts?" Rick turned to Rant earnestly. As a powerhouse, Rant was the ally Rick most wanted to retain.
"I'm not as generous as Anna," Rant said bluntly, ignoring the pleading in Rick's eyes. "But I won't take more than my share—one-sixth, split equally."
Rant's words instantly tensed the atmosphere. Shust's gaze toward Rant lost its former camaraderie, now laced with a hint of killing intent.
"You plan to leave?" Rick asked with regret.
"Yes. I'll rebuild the Hunter Guild and claim a vast hunting ground." Rant shot Balzac a glance. "I'm taking Moya. There are empty hunting zones in Terry County—we'll lead a new hunter guild together."
"Moya!～"
While Rant's departure was expected, Moya's decision stunned Rick. After all they'd been through, he'd never thought they'd truly part ways.
Under Rick's astonished stare, Moya stood guiltily. "Sorry, Rick. You know my dream—I don't want to wander aimlessly. Terry County, free of the Wolf Pack, has what I need to build something great."
"Hmph, traitor." Shust spat, his eyes lingering on Moya's neck. "If someone puts a hit on you, consider it a free service."
"What did you say?!" Rant roared, rising in anger.
"Want to test me, idiot of a fallen house?" Shust stood slowly, a fierce killing aura dropping the room's temperature several degrees.
"Wait!" Rick snapped out of his shock, stepping between them. Staring into Moya's eyes, he asked slowly, "Is this really your final decision?"