Antelligent Design

1. Changing Ways

When you spend your entire life learning to kill something, and then you kill said thing, it’s awfully hard to turn around and refuse those instincts.

Morrelia thought back to her childhood. The long days spent drilling Skills with her brother in the practice court whilst Mother watched, laughing at their exuberance. When her father was home, he would take them to the Legionary fort in Liria to practise with the trainees. Even from a young age, the two children had been a match for those twice as old. She remembered once defeating an eighteen-year-old sword apprentice when she was only ten and not yet grown into her class.

Her father had smiled broadly and ordered the trainee to double his practice time before lifting his daughter in one massive arm and kissing her on the cheek. She’d been so proud.

Her brother had shone even brighter. His Skills rose so quickly, training with such ferocious intensity, he’d been accepted to the Legion two years early and became the strongest trainee the moment he walked in the door.

When he died, it was like the light went out of their family.

Father withdrew, mother left, and when the time came, Morrelia refused to enlist in the Legion. Instead, she soldiered around. Fighting was the only thing she knew how to do and she was damn good at it. Eventually she settled on her current work, offering her services to villages and small towns on the border to deal with monster infestations. The pay was terrible and the experience was worse. With her Skills, she could have been a royal guard, but it wasn’t so bad. She felt useful.

When she found a Dungeon entrance out here in the wilds, things became better. She would sneak out and delve, on her own at first, and then later with her team. The experience was much better, not to mention the money. It allowed her to take poorer paying jobs helping the more remote villages on the edge of the wilderness and not go hungry.

Now here they were. While she was out fighting, the entire kingdom had burnt to the ground. Father was who knows where in the Dungeon, and she was stuck here in a refugee camp that worshipped monsters.

Sitting in her tent, Morrelia sighed and rubbed her temples. By the System, she was tired. The berserker rage always took a lot out of her, but this was more than that. The city of Liria had been her home, she knew so many people there. Her classmates, the guards who taught her gambling Skills behind her parent’s back, the Legion members she spent so much time around. All of it gone, flattened by monsters.

It just didn’t seem possible.

Refusing to sit and dwell on it any longer, Morrelia forced herself to her feet and pushed the flap to her tent aside with one calloused hand. Even if she was only twenty-three years old, it had been a long time since she’d been home. She’d been out selling her sword since she was fifteen. The city was gone, the people were here, and she’d be damned if she wouldn’t do what she could to help them.

Her team member, Dianne, had set up their camp just outside the village proper. The refugees were busy erecting buildings almost full-time, but it was never enough. More and more families arrived, and they needed the shelter far more than her team did. They had their tents and bedrolls, they’d be fine.

Despite the vicious battle only hours before, there was a decided buzz about the place. People rushed about, building, cleaning, distributing supplies and caring for the wounded. Morrelia’s feet took her to the large open area where those who were injured in the battle were being tended.

There were dozens of men and women on their backs, lying on simple wooden beams placed together to make a raised resting place. Morrelia grimaced. There was nothing here that could be called a bed, not even close.

To her shock, there had been fewer casualties than she expected. Once the berserker rage had fallen from her eyes, and she realised the villagers had come out to fight, her first instinct had been that she might have killed some of them. Thankfully not. They’d fought well, the priest in the vanguard, chanting and swinging a hammer one-handed.

He was here now, by some miracle still standing, moving amongst the wounded, talking to them.

As she walked closer, he caught sight of her and smiled.

“Miss Morrelia. I had no idea you possessed the berserker class. Quite a rare thing indeed.”

She paused, not expecting him to comment on it, then shrugged.

“I’ve always had a temper. It just unlocked one day.”

The light in the priests’ eyes shifted, and she knew he was aware of the lie, but he let it pass. Instead, he moved in closer, drawing her attention once more to the thing she’d been trying to avoid thinking about.

“Now you have seen our saviour, the Great Ant, in battle. He is powerful, is he not? Even acting out to prevent the deaths of humans. I wonder how you will resolve that fact with your narrow view of monsters, Miss Morrelia?”

Her immediate reaction was to sneer.

“Don’t call me Miss.”

Eyes bright, Beyn nodded, waiting patiently for her answer.

Morrelia sighed. “It’s a tough little bugger and no mistake.” Beyn coughed at her disrespectful language, but she continued, “the magic it uses is weird, but effective. To be honest, those pets of his…”

They might be even stronger than the ant was. Which was ridiculous. The gigantic ape-bat was clearly evolved from a lightning fist ape. Only, it was a variety she’d never seen. Its powerful electrical attacks and immense strength were frightening.

And the tentacle creature. Morrelia shuddered. The way that thing cut, tore and stuffed monsters into its seemingly bottomless mouth had been a disturbing sight to say the least. How the ant managed to defeat such a strange variety of shadow beast, she had no idea.

There was no doubt in her mind that if it wanted them to, those two pets would flatten the village and destroy everyone in it without the creature having to lift a finger. Not that it had fingers…

Thankfully, it appeared to be one of a kind. If the rest of the colony were to be as powerful as that one ant… it boggled the mind.

Eventually, she just laughed.

“I just don’t understand it,” she finally admitted. “I’ve never heard of a monster that would act to protect humans. I don’t know how. I don’t know why. If I hadn’t witnessed it for myself, I would never have believed it.”

Beyn nodded eagerly, his youthful face alight with energy despite the dirt and grime coating him. It was easy to forget this man was no older than she was.

“Yes. Yes! This is something new, something different. The System has brought forth a miracle in order to save—”

Morrelia raised a hand to stall his gathering momentum.

“Whoa there, buddy. I don’t need the whole sermon. I still don’t trust it, though I’m willing to give it a chance. I don’t have anything to do except stay here and help the refugees anyway, so my team and I will stick around.”

“In that case, you might want to find Enid, she’s sure to have a use for you,” Beyn said.

Morrelia found the white-haired old woman, her thin hair tied up in a tight bun, in the thick of the action, as always. A small knot of people followed her wherever she went, taking directions and asking questions as Enid continuously spoke in her soft, no-nonsense tone.

It turned out Enid most wanted Morrelia and her group to help with training the villagers. Apparently, the farmers, with their ridiculous pools of stamina—the only thing the class was good for—could handle the work, but the people needed to be able to defend themselves.

Which was how she found herself not half an hour later with a small group of able-bodied students aged ten to forty, going over basic spear and sword forms.

Training people to fight who worshipped a monster. What on earth would her father think?

Morrelia chuckled. The commander would throw a pink fit. Except Titus wasn’t here right now, and these people needed help. So, she would help them.