[Identification Complete]

  [Common Name: Sponge Crab]

  [Grade: 32x C-Rank Giant-Class]

  [Aura: ~28,000]

  [Strength: ~6, Speed: ~3, Toughness: ~5, Dexterity: ~7, Perception: ~3]

  [Brief Description: Compact, highly camouflaged, and heavily armored. Sponge crabs are unique for their habit of carrying live sponges on their backs for camouflage and protection. Their powerful claws are adept at tearing through soft prey, while their stubby legs allow for steady movement across even the most uneven of ocean floors. The sponge itself often thrives symbiotically, filtering water and providing the crab with a layer of natural defense—]

  Marisol didn’t even get to finish reading the Archive’s identification notice. The final valley erupted into chaos the moment Maria and Reina took off, charging straight ahead at the Giant-Class sponge crabs.

  A spiraling vortex of water surrounded Maria’s arms as she shot straight into the heart of the cluster on the left valley wall, her Whirligig Beetle Class in full force. Her Art had to be something like Marisol’s discharge, allowing her to suck in and rotate rocky debris around her arms and legs like drills, and the moment she reached her first crab, she slammed her debris drill fist into its side.

  The shell burst apart, fragments spinning outward as she tore through it, leaving a jagged hole. Another crab lunged at her from the left, claws snapping wildly. Maria pivoted sharply, the spiraling currents around her leg slicing through one claw, then the other, before she whirled upward and drilled straight through its body with brutal efficiency.

  Reina approached from the opposite side, pouncing onto the right valley wall, her scorpion tail trailing behind her like a deadly ribbon. Whereas Maria’s style was frenetic and unpredictable, Reina moved with sharp precision. Her tail flicked forward, the blade-like edge slicing neatly through the limb of an approaching crab. She dodged a retaliatory strike with a swift sidestep, her tail arcing again to puncture its soft underside. Then she slid beneath another attacking crab, her scorpion tail slashing upward in a clean arc that severed its legs.

  Both Lighthouse Imperators started running and sprinting sideways on the walls, and Marisol watched as they worked in tandem, synchronised dances of destruction. The crabs may be plentiful and clinging to the walls, blending into the silvery, sponge-like rocks that had concealed them moments earlier, but now it was too late to camouflage again. They were fodder meant to drain stamina—they were no match for the two ladies at all.

  There was nothing for Marisol to do here, so she began skating leisurely through the chaos, feeling both awe and a touch of inadequacy. She felt she could probably fight and kill the same amount of crabs if she wanted to, just not as fast and only half as violently.

  … I’ve been meaning to ask, Archive.

  [What is it?]

  What’s their status screens and estimated attribute levels like?

  Are the two of them on par with a Hasharana?

  [While the standards for becoming a Hasharana rise annually, both Maria and Reina are capable of defeating a Mutant-Class alone, which most Imperators cannot do. Yes, they are definitely comparable to Hasharana in power.]

  [As for their grades…]

  Status screens popped up next to her head as she dodged a giant crab carcass falling on her, continuing to skate leisurely towards the end of the valley.

  [Name: Maria Sangroja]

  [Grade: A-Rank Mutant-Class]

  [Class: Whirligig Beetle]

  [Swarmblood Art: Hydro Spiral]

  [Aura: ~16,000]

  [Strength: ~9, Speed: ~12, Toughness: ~8, Dexterity: ~8, Perception: ~9]

  [Name: Reina Torrealba]

  [Grade: B-Rank Mutant-Class]

  [Class: Water Scorpion]

  [Swarmblood Art: ???]

  [Aura: ~13,000]

  [Strength: ~8, Speed: ~8, Toughness: ~9, Dexterity: ~12, Perception: ~8]

  Marisol frowned slightly as she looked the excerpt of their status screens over. She was only a few steps behind them at E-Rank Mutant-Class, yet it felt like there was a chasm of difference between them.

  [You are not a ‘few steps’ behind them,] the Archive corrected. [While you did manage to advance through every single rank in Giant-Class in three months, you have only progressed one rank from F-Rank Mutant-Class to your current E-Rank Mutant-Class in the same amount of time. This is because, starting from Mutant-Class, the gap between ranks becomes exponentially more difficult to cross, and the leap from Mutant-Class to Insect God is immense for both humans and bugs alike. I believe only Victor Morina and the Harbour Imperatrix are at Insect God grade in the entirety of the Deepwater Legion Front.]

  … So, that three rank difference between me and Reina—

  [Is quite the difference. The three of you combined should just barely be enough to rival a F-Rank Barnacle God and force him to retreat from Depth Four, though Maria would have to pull and carry both of your weights by a non-insignificant amount.]

  Her focus returned to the fighting around her as Maria and Reina closed in on the last few crabs. Maria spiraled upward, then shot down like a drill, punching through the largest crab with a swirling torrent of debris. Reina skated low, her tail flicking to sever the legs of another crab before driving the stinger deep into its center.

  As the final crabs crumpled to the canyon floor, both Lighthouse Imperators hopped off the walls and returned to normal ground level, flanking Marisol’s sides. Maria turned to Marisol with a wide grin, droplets of blood and shredded crab shells swirling around her like a cyclone armour.

  “Trainin’s over, rookie,” she said. “Hope yer Archive was sayin’ somethin’ good about us.”

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  …

  Marisol smiled nervously and pushed forward with the two of them, her gaze drifting to the fields of carcasses behind her. She really should’ve kicked off and helped with the giant crab extermination, because now the Lighthouse Imperators could hog all of their meat for themselves, and she wouldn’t get any points afterwards.

  [Reina will definitely give you a share of hers.]

  But Maria won’t.

  [Eh.]

  [Just focus.]

  As the three of them glided out of the valley, the water opened up into a broad crater. Dim sunlight filtering through the misty depths revealed a grotesque battlefield: dozens and hundreds of Giant-Class sponge crabs carcasses sprawled haphazardly across the seabed. Some lay crushed and mangled, their porous shells shattered, while others appeared unnervingly intact, as if they'd been felled by a single precise strike. The water hung thick with a stillness that made Marisol’s skin crawl.

  She didn’t even need to consult the Archive to remind herself of how Depth Four’s currents should be. It was plain and obvious nothing was ‘right’ here. The cemetery of crabs in front of them wasn’t something that normally existed, and the currents in the circular crater were supposed to be swirling clockwise, not anti-clockwise.

  There was something within the cemetery of crabs powerful enough to reverse the natural underwater currents.

  So, the two Lighthouse Imperators stopped ahead of her. Reina, still composed and formal, surveyed the carnage with a tight frown. “Depth Four is not exactly hospitable long-term for humans,” she murmured, “so this many Giant-Class crabs gathering in one place is not completely unthinkable.”

  Maria narrowed her eyes, stabbing her flag into the ground. The spiraling water that had been surrounding her limbs earlier was gone, but she was still standing on the tip of her toes, ready to dash at a moment’s notice. “But it is weird they were just sittin’ here, waitin’ for us. Stay alert, Rei-Rei. That Rhizocapala—”

  “Is here.”

  Before Maria could finish her sentence, the mound of giant crab carcasses in the centre of the crater shifted. The sound of grinding shells and snapping chitin echoed through the crater, setting Marisol’s teeth on edge as all three of them took cautious steps back.

  A pulse of water pushed outward from the mound, stirring the water, and the movement grew more and more pronounced as the pile of dead crabs heaved and groaned—and then, from beneath the cemetery, a figure unfurled to his full height to tower over the three of them.

  Marisol’s heart lurched in her chest as Rhizocapala rose. His bulk was as terrifying and mesmerising as she remembered it—a twisted blend of organic and armored shells, human-like with hair and eyes and ears and five fingers on each hand, but she made no mistake recognising him for what he really was: just a hundred or so tiny barnacles clinging together to take the shape of a human.

  The aura differential may not be as much as the last time she saw him a month ago, but were it not for Maria and Reina’s aura combining with hers, she might’ve still buckled the moment he laid his eyes on her.

  “... Took ye long enough,” he said, his voice rich and resonant, three thread-like tongues flickering past his lips as he gestured at the cemetery of crabs around them. “‘Ah was startin’ to think ‘ah wasted my time clearin’ the crater for ye. Imagine if ye showed up a week or two later—not that ‘ah woulda minded that—but ah would’ve been bored outta my mind waitin’ for ye.”

  Maria stepped forward, her water and debris drills swirling faintly around her limbs as she raised an eyebrow. “Ye killed all these crabs yerself?”

  Rhizocapala let out a deep, gravelly chuckle, the sound more like rocks grinding against each other. “Of course. Ye think they just dropped dead on their own? ‘Ah was supposed to use them to slow ye down throughout the canyon, but they just kept clickin’ and clackin’ and ‘ah got so damned irritated listenin’ to them walkin’ all restlessly, so ‘ah killed them to spare us both the trouble. No point sendin’ ye humans fodder to rip through and get stronger with, right?”

  [True,] the Archive murmured. [If Giant-Class crabs attacked you throughout the entire valley, all that would accomplish is giving more crab meat to the Imperators at the expense of delaying the reclamation of Depth Four slightly. If Rhizocapala already knew Lighthouse Imperators would be sent down to deal with him, sending Giant-Class bugs after them would only have made them even stronger.]

  So he killed his own allies? His own people?

  [They are not ‘people’, Marisol.]

  [They are the Swarm.]

  “And ye don’t sound like yer lookin’ for a fight,” Maria said plainly. “So ye knew we were comin’, and ye didn’t ambush us in the narrow valleys?”

  “Ya.”

  “Why wait for us here? It’s open ground. More places for us to run. If ye wanted to kill us, it’d be easier in the valleys back there.”

  Rhizocapala tilted his head, his glowing blue eyes narrowing as though seriously considering her question. “But it’s more dramatic to have a fight here in this arena-like place. Ye humans always manage to find the most dramatic places to have final showdowns anyways. Depth by Depth, goin’ here and there, pushin’ us back after we claim parts of the whirlpool… it’s routine by now. Predictable. How many times do ye think we’ve done this?”

  “Yer sayin’ this is normal for ye?”

  “Not normal,” Rhizocapala corrected, his tone almost playful. “Expected. Like yer human ‘clockwork’ things. Ye descend, we resist. Ye take a little territory, we take some back. Rinse and repeat. Honestly, it’s startin’ to feel more like a chore than a war. My hermanos and hermanas, they still love this kind of stuff—skirmishes, grand battles, all the drama. Me? Ah’ve been doin’ this for almost forty years now. Truth be told, all yer names and faces and fightin’ styles are startin’ to blur together for me. We may have made more progress this time than ever before, claimin’ over half of the Depths at once, but it still feels the same to me, ye know?”

  Marisol couldn’t help but glance at the hundreds of slaughtered Giant-Class crabs again, her unease growing with every word he spoke. The cemetery wasn’t just a warning. It was a statement. He knew that he was stronger than each of them individually, and he had nothing to lose by talking to them like this.

  “... So why are ye talkin’?” Maria asked, her voice steadier this time. “If yer so tired of the routine, why not just come at us now?”

  Rhizocapala leaned forward slightly, his barnacle plates creaking as he moved. “Sure, ‘ah could. We’d throw hands for a while, maybe ye’d get lucky, maybe not. But ah figured ah’d try somethin’ different this time. Spice things up a little.”

  “Yeah? What’s yer big idea, barnacle? Gonna ask for a truce or somethin’?”

  “Somethin’ of the sort,” he said, his glowing eyes crinkling as a twisted smile rose onto his face. “Let’s change the rules for once. Instead of ye humans descendin’ Depth by Depth like you always do to reclaim the entire rest of the whirlpool, why not hold your ground where you still have control? Let us be the aggressors this time. ‘Ah promise ye, our plan this decade is... unexpected. At the very least, it’ll be interestin’. Just sit back and play defense for once and let us come to you—”

  The tense water in the crater rippled as Reina suddenly stomped forward, her scorpion tail snapping to its sharpest point. Her knuckles whitened, her bladed tail vibrating faintly with restrained energy. Her usual composed demeanor had cracked, and her face was a mask of pure fury, her lips pressed so tightly together they seemed bloodless.

  Marisol blinked, slightly startled. She’d only seen pissed-off Reina once, but the Lighthouse Imperator was just as terrifying to stand next to as the Barnacle God in front of her.

  Reina didn’t need to say anything, either.

  What she was thinking was clear enough.

  ‘This is absurd.’

  ‘There’s no point talking to a bug.’

  … And on that front, Maria agreed with a curt laugh, her glare at Rhizocapala sharp enough to cut glass.

  “Even prim and proper Rei-Rei’s finally showin’ her teeth,” she said, her voice dripping with scathing mockery as water began swirling around her limbs faster and faster, turning her arms into churning cyclones. “Ye think we don’t know what yer doin’, just tryin’ to waste our time so yer boss can continue doin’ whatever he’s doin’ down there in secret?”

  Rhizocapala returned a sly smile at the three of them. “‘Ah did mean it when ‘ah said we’re serious this time. The Imperators and the Four Leviathans may have fought many, many times like this over the decades, but ‘ah really would recommend you go back and tell yer bosses to defend Depths One to Three instead of tryin’ to reclaim the lower Depths. Ye ain’t ready for what we’re gonna do this time.”

  “And yer so kind as to give us an advanced warnin’?”

  “Why not?” Rhizocapala shrugged. “Ain’t like ‘ah can let the three of ye past Depth Four, anyways.”

  Without another word, the cemetery of crab carcasses began to rumble across the crater. Huge barnacles burst out of their carapaces, their ridged, slimy shells sprouting unnaturally fast. In moments, the entire crater transformed from a cemetery of carcasses to a jagged landscape of grotesque, very much living growths—and when the hundreds of giant barnacles opened to reveal mouths full of jagged spines and teeth, the Whispering Canyons echoed the deep, guttural sounds of their hungry belches.

  Rhizocapala spread his arms and cackled aloud. He still hadn’t moved an inch from where he stood, far above the three of them on a writhing mound of barnacles, but that was because he didn’t have to move.

  He didn’t feel like he should move.

  “Ah’ll even let the Hasharana go, so ah’ll give ye ten seconds to turn around and scurry on back to the surface,” he said, pointing a finger gun down at them. “If not, ‘ah guess we’ll all have to play our borin’ parts in this war once again.”

  here with over five hundred members, where you can get notifications for chapter updates, check out my writing progress, and read daily facts about this insect-based world!