Rick had downed several glasses of wine, his cheeks flushing red due to a low alcohol tolerance.
Lord Arthur's revelation of his secret left Rick panicked, but the old man's words implied he knew a solution to Rick's internal dilemma, along with the "choice" and "secret" he mentioned...
Tormented by doubt, Rick gulped down glass after glass, drinking to vent. Finally, as he raised the ninth cup, Arthur seized his hand.
"Hey, keep drinking, and I can't guarantee your mind will stay clear. Remember, the decision you're about to make will shape your life. Sure you want to decide in a daze?"
"A decision that shapes my life..."
Rick's gaze froze. Right—his own groping couldn't solve the problem with his body, but consulting this old monster Arthur might offer a chance. Why hesitate?
With resolve, Rick sobered up. He set down the cup, gave Arthur a deep look, then began recounting his experiences since implanting the egg, including the unexpected sensations during his clash with Callan.
"You truly are lucky to have survived the first stages." Arthur rapped Rick's forehead. "When you were hunted in Kester City, you were already in grave danger. Your physiological functions and brain's protective abilities were extremely poor, and you were unconscious. You narrowly avoided the first egg backlash. The second time, losing control during the wolf pack battle proved the egg's power far surpassed your own, risking permanent loss of control. Thankfully, that lad Moya kept you sane, or you might have fully insectivized then."
Rick shuddered at Arthur's conclusion. He'd never imagined those two experiences were so perilous, one misstep from eternal damnation.
Arthur ignored Rick's horrified expression, sipping wine and continuing. "You often felt irrational because your strength and the egg's power were unbalanced. If you'd used a Guild-sold egg, no problem—those have wild genes culled, designed for hunters to borrow power. Even weak hunters won't face backlash. But you're different. Your wild egg inherits not just hunting instincts but other traits evolved over eons—feeding instincts, among others."
"I don't quite understand..." Rick said blankly.
"Let me put it this way. The insect eggs distributed by the Insect Association have had removed all instincts unsuitable for humans, retaining only the egg's genetic traits and the combat insect's hunting instincts. Wild insect eggs, however, haven't undergone this culling process. Unlike other eggs, they aren't just tools—they're simple living entities with thoughts. Do you see the difference?"
"Living entities? You mean... it has thoughts..."
"Precisely. Beyond using hunting instincts and genetic traits to boost your combat power, it has other drives. Take feeding, for example. A lion, even if it can't hunt, won't eat grass. Similarly, an insect's feeding instinct makes it reject human lifestyles. As it grows in your body, it increasingly repels your human instincts. Your body becomes a battlefield—either you consume it, or it consumes you. Got it?"
"S-so I might still turn into an insect?"
"I'm not finished." Arthur knocked on the floor, jolting Rick from his shock. "If you'd relied on the egg's power like other insect hunters, you'd have been consumed by now. You can't count on luck forever. But you were lucky to enter underground Tanzan and begin cultivating humanity's strongest body techniques. Thus, your human strength has increased, perhaps even matching the egg's power. Fortunately, you implanted the weakest Scythe Worm. If it were a Heavenly Worm, a lifetime of training couldn't surpass it."
"Our powers are balanced now?"
"Yes, as your recent experience shows. Your human strength seems to have surpassed the egg's, thanks to those two earlier incidents. You nearly succumbed to backlash twice but survived, allowing your human genes to accept partial egg modifications, drastically enhancing your physical abilities. Training in body techniques— which unleash human potential—further developed this power, achieving balance and even slight superiority over the egg."
"Are you saying... I've consumed it? I won't become an insect-man anymore?" Rick jumped up in delight.
"Theorhetically, yes. But your condition is still odd, so we can't be certain yet."
"What?" Rick was stunned. "What do you mean by that?"
"From what you described, it seems you haven't completely shaken off the insect consciousness. This means the egg's consciousness within you wasn't erased by your human mind—it was transformed by it. Just as it modified your genes, you've modified its instincts, causing it to evolve."
"Evolve?!"
"Precisely. It's alarming, but not impossible. Due to those two critical moments, both you and the insect within have evolved. Genetically culled insects can't evolve, but evolving is one of wild insects' core instincts."
"Then... does that mean I haven't defeated it? It will keep growing stronger and eventually consume me?" Rick's face paled instantly.
"If you stop progressing, that's the most likely outcome. But you still have a chance." Arthur smiled mysteriously. "Insect hunters believe Insect Masters are the pinnacle, but is that really true?"
"Isn't it?"
"Insect Masters are powerful—far stronger than Insect Generals, with combat abilities exceeding natural limits. But they aren't the apex." Arthur stood, rummaging through the bookshelves to retrieve a weathered oil painting. He tore off the protective parchment and handed it to Rick. "Take a look. What's this?"
"This is..."
Rick was instantly captivated by the painting's image.
It depicted a red-haired knight in full armor, wielding a two-handed greatsword as tall as a man, astride a massive war insect with winged winged back.
On closer inspection, the knight's armor differed from ordinary insect hunters'. Insect Generals, when armored, partially insectivize their limbs, showing obvious insect traits. But this knight's limbs remained humanoid, his armor—though retaining some insectoid features—was purely decorative, not affecting his internal body.
"Is this... an Insect Master?"
"Disregarding his Heavenly-Class Saint Horn Insect mount, yes—this is a Stage 5 Insect Master." Arthur pointed to the knight, lecturing Rick. "Reaching Stage 1 means no longer needing egg transformation. One can unleash wild combat insect destructive power with human flesh, no transformation needed."
"Right! Monkdo the Shadow Wolf, one of the Wolfpack's Four Pillars, is a Stage 1 Insect Master. Fighting him, I saw no physical changes—just streaks of light when he attacked."
"Precisely—Stage 1's externalized power. At Stage 2, power solidifies, forming an invisible protective layer. Stage 3 solidifies further, keratinizing hair and skin into armor, and externalized power extends through weapons."
"Hair becomes armor?"
"Strange?" Arthur chuckled. "Cattle, sheep, rhino horns are all keratinized hair. Keratinization is power solidification—visible at Stage 3."
"I see. So the knight's limbs didn't change—only his hair did."
"Stages 3 to 5 are just power reinforcements. The real breakthrough is beyond Insect Master—the Demigod Realm, the true pinnacle."
"De... demigod..."
"Yes. At Stage 5, even without the egg, an Insect Master exceeds its combat power. Thus, they face a breakthrough: a chance for the egg to cocoon and leave the body."
"Cocoon? The insect emerges from the body?" Rick was too shocked to speak.
"Indeed. From Insect Soldier to top Insect Master, a hunter acts as a breeder. At the peak, if the breakthrough succeeds, they enter the Demigod Realm, and the cocooned insect transcends ranks, becoming stronger than Heavenly Insects." Arthur's eyes shone.
"Transcending ranks..." Rick eyed the knight and his mount. "Can the knight ride the cocooned war insect?"
"Of course. As its breeder, the insect sees them as a parent, with psychic communication." Arthur smiled proudly.
"Incredible." Rick marveled, but then noticed the knight's red hair and Arthur's proud expression. A staggering possibility hit him.
"No... It can't be... Is that you?"
"None other! Only Tanzan royal blood and our peerless body techniques let one surpass their inner insect and become a Demigod."
"..."
"What's that look? Disbelief?" Arthur scowled, snapping sharply.
"Believe it! Of course I do!" Startled by Arthur's sudden mood shift, Rick nodded frantically.
No kidding—he'd thought the old man was strong, but demigod level? No wonder Arthur lived over 200 years and had such renown.
"Cough cough..."
Seeing the awe on Rick's face, Arthur cleared his throat in satisfaction, assuming a serious tone. "Actually, what I said before is trivial. Now comes the main point—the choice you must make, and the truth of the world."
"Wait a second!"
Rick suddenly sensed a hint of conspiracy in Arthur's words, eerily similar to when he'd been tricked by Nanzé. He tensed, on guard.
"What, now that you've heard something useful, you want to stab me in the back?" Arthur leaned in, his hot breath almost hitting Rick's face.
"No... no... Go on," Rick said. Seeing Arthur's demeanor, he knew escape was hopeless—he had to brace for whatever came.
"Good." Arthur nodded. "In fact, I know everything about your arrival in Ison City, even things you don't, like the mystery of Anna that bothers you most."
"Anna?"
"Yes. I know that before entering Ison City, your group had other members—including Lav, granddaughter of Nanzé, Head of the Terry County Insect Association?"
"You know that too?"
"Indeed. Nanzé gleaned useful information from Lav's adventures with you. He wrote me, asking me to keep you in Ison City longer and suggested I adopt a red-haired girl in your group as my daughter."
"Anna?"
"Precisely. Her red hair, a Tanzan royal trait, made her a plausible choice. But during the background check, I discovered she truly is a Tanzan royal descendant—a pleasant surprise, for me at least."
"Damn that old fox Nanzé! What's his game now?" Rick seethed, realizing his actions were once again within Nanzé's calculations.
"The old fox is indeed cunning. Sending you and Shust to the Altmans Wasteland wasn't altruistic. Did you really think he wanted you to check for Terry County migrants there?"
"Fuck! What was he after?"
"He wanted your guiding and adventuring skills to find a safe route into the wasteland, so the Insect Association could send elite forces to scout its status. He never expected you to return alive."
"Damned old bastard!" Rick smashed the wine glass in his hand, enraged.
"Hehe, from his position, you can't blame him. He acts for all humanity. Sacrificing a few to save everyone seems worthwhile to him."
"Save humanity? I don't understand..."
"Exactly—the truth of the world and how this strange reality came to be." Arthur raised his head, gazing into the distance, his voice grave. "Centuries ago, the world wasn't like this. Humans had advanced civilization, not dependent on insects. You've been to underground Tanzan City—you must have seen clues."
Arthur's words reminded Rick of the strange weapons and theories he'd encountered in Tanzan City. He nodded.
"Back then, human civilization was independent, controlled entirely by humans. But everything changed with a meteor strike. It devastated Earth's ecology and brought a terrifying organism."
"Th-the Twelve Prime Insects?"
"Precisely. Twelve intelligent extraterrestrial insect species with endless lives and terrifying power. The meteor strike also knocked Earth off its orbit, causing a Blood Sun to appear every century. The Blood Sun alters Earth's magnetic field, triggering mass insect evolution into dangerous Swarm Insects." Arthur paused, sighing. "Evolved Swarm Insects instinctively submit to the Twelve Primes, forming a fearsome force. That's the truth of the Century War—it wasn't human lords fighting over insect resources, but a global war between humanity and insects."
"What? That... that can't be possible..." Rick gaped, stunned by this reality contradicting everything he'd known.
"Unfortunately, humanity lost and shamefully signed the Century Treaty."
As a veteran, Arthur looked mournful. As a young man, he'd witnessed humanity's advanced civilization; now, just over 200 years later, that erased history had been forgotten, replaced by a new way of life.
"What did the Century Treaty entail?"
"Humanity surrendered its civilization, using bio-technology to build a bio-based society centered on insects. In return, the Twelve Primes would stay within the Altmans Wasteland for a century until the next treaty."
"So that's how insect hunters and other professions began? Are the Twelve Primes still in the Altmans Wasteland?"
"No one knows." Arthur shook his head. "Earth later suffered a cataclysmic crustal shift, splitting Altmans from the continent. No one knows its current state, which is why Nanzé sent you—he wants to see if the Twelve Primes remain."
"But there's the Century Treaty."
"Forget it—another century has passed, and a new Blood Sun appeared six months ago. We can't guarantee the Twelve Primes are still there."
"If they leave, what will they do?"
"Reproduce." Arthur stated flatly. "They came to Earth for one purpose: propagate their species and replace humanity. But... heh, while surviving atmospheric entry, they lost their ability to reproduce. So they rely on humans."
"Humans?" Rick didn't follow.
"Of course. Humans implanted with eggs can become Insect-Men. The Twelve Primes want to use human bio-tech to evolve eggs in human hosts, hoping some will consume human consciousness to become intelligent Insect-Men. Over generations, this would let their species propagate through a new bio-civilization to replace humanity."
Rick shuddered—had he not survived those two backlashes, he might have become a pawn for the Twelve Primes, an architect of humanity's destruction.
"Insect experts like Nanzé's faction instead culled egg instincts, turning them into tools. This prevented Swarm growth, but in my view, it only delays humanity's fate."
"Why?"
"Culled eggs can't evolve, so the peak for genetically modified users is top Insect Master. That's no match for the Twelve Primes. Without more Demigod warriors, humanity will lose the next war. And the Swarm might have solved their reproduction problem—we might not even get another Century Treaty."
Rick swallowed hard. "So only wild egg users can become Demigods..."
"Exactly! If you hadn't survived those crises and shown Demigod potential, why would I waste breath?" Arthur rapped Rick's head. "Listen—you may be humanity's frontline against the Swarm, so you need to know more. But first, you must join an organization."
"What organization?"
"The Defenders!"