The Eccentric Entomologist is Now a Queen's Consort-Chapter 520: Back to the Festival (2)

Serelith's wide violet eyes flicked from one ant to another, her lips parting in awe and a touch of nervousness. "They're… ants? Big, creepy ants?"

"Chimera Ants," Mikhailis corrected, letting a hint of pride slip into his voice. "But not just any ants. Watch."

He nodded, and one of the Workers stepped forward, its clawed limbs moving with precise, delicate coordination. It scuttled to a corner of the tent, where a few scattered pebbles and sticks lay. Without hesitation, the Worker began arranging them, its legs moving like tiny, synchronized machines. In seconds, the sticks became beams, the pebbles transformed into walls, and a miniature tower emerged—a perfect replica, detailed and elegant.

Serelith's curiosity overpowered her initial caution. She dropped to her knees, leaning closer, her violet hair falling like a curtain around her face. "It's… it's building? This fast?"

"Faster than most artisans," Mikhailis said, his grin widening. "These are the Worker Ants. Builders, crafters, gatherers. They can repair structures, dig irrigation channels, even assemble complex tools on command."

"They're… amazing." Serelith's voice held a childlike wonder. She reached out cautiously, letting her fingers hover just above one Worker's glossy back. The creature paused, then nudged her fingertips, a surprisingly gentle gesture.

Cerys's tension didn't entirely vanish, but she stepped closer, her keen amber eyes watching the ants with a mix of suspicion and fascination. "And the ones with blades for limbs?" She nodded at a Soldier Ant, whose spiked forelimbs gleamed like freshly honed swords.

"Those are the Soldiers," Mikhailis explained. "Fast, resilient, and dangerous. Good for combat, ambushes, and defensive patrols. Their claws can slice through armor." He gestured, and one of the Soldiers shifted, its limbs clicking like blades being drawn. It spun, then halted, staring at Cerys with unblinking compound eyes.

"Can it fight?" Cerys's voice held a challenge.

"Test it," Mikhailis said, waving a hand.

Cerys didn't need to be told twice. She moved fast, a quick jab of her hand testing the Soldier's reflexes. The ant reacted with blinding speed, sidestepping and raising a claw in a defensive arc. Cerys grinned, her combat instincts taking over. "Efficient," she murmured, her gaze never leaving the Soldier's poised stance.

"They listen to you?" she asked, still in a low, cautious tone.

"Directly," Mikhailis replied. "They're loyal and adaptive. Rodion acts as their command hub."

Rodion hovered a little closer, his soft glow reflecting in the Soldier's dark eyes.

<Correct. Command protocols ensure absolute loyalty to Master Mikhailis. Orders may be adapted to suit tactical conditions.>

Serelith's fascination only grew. She shifted closer to another Worker, poking gently at its carapace. "They're kind of cute… in a creepy way. Like little clockwork toys."

Mikhailis laughed. "Creepy is part of the charm. And they're not just cute—they're useful. Elowen knows about them too. They've been helping with agriculture, digging trenches, planting crops, building irrigation systems. Our kingdom's food production has practically doubled."

"Smart and practical," Serelith whispered, a spark of admiration lighting her gaze. "And you've kept this a secret?"

"Not entirely." Mikhailis shrugged. "Elowen knows. But… until now, you two didn't. For a lot of reasons."

"Like the fact that if word got out, people would panic," Cerys muttered, though a grin tugged at her lips. "Giant ants in the kingdom's service. Sounds like a bad children's tale."

Serelith reached out again, letting her fingers glide along the smooth, glassy surface of another Worker's shell. It nuzzled her hand, almost like a cat seeking attention. "They really are cute. But there's something else… you said Rodion is their command hub?"

Mikhailis smirked. "Oh, you'll love this part. Rodion, go ahead. Introduce yourself properly."

Rodion floated forward, his blue glow warming, his form shifting slightly to appear more rounded, almost friendlier.

<Greetings. I am Rodion, an Artificial Intelligence designed by Master Mikhailis. Originally, I existed as a simple data construct, but with the assistance of the Worker Ants, I now possess this physical form. My primary functions include strategic analysis, combat support, and domestic management.>

"Domestic management?" Serelith giggled, her playful nature returning.

<Indeed. I also excel as a pillow.>

"Pillow?" Cerys raised an eyebrow, the humor in her eyes softening her usual stern expression.

Rodion's smooth surface seemed to shimmer, and then, with a faint hum, his form softened. The hard edges of his body became plush, his surface warm to the touch—like a perfectly heated, impossibly soft cushion.

Serelith's laughter burst out, a bright, joyful sound. "He's warm! Like a cozy heater!" Without hesitation, she leaned against him, her cheek pressing against his soft form, her eyes closing with a blissful sigh. "This is perfect… can we keep him?"

Rodion hummed, a subtle warmth infusing his voice.

<I am already at your service. I was designed to be adaptive. Warmth and comfort are easily achieved.>

Cerys, her curiosity overcoming her caution, stepped forward and gave Rodion a hesitant squeeze. Her eyes widened slightly. "It's… actually nice. Like a soft pillow by the fireplace."

"See? Not just a tactical genius, but also the perfect cuddle companion," Mikhailis said, his grin returning. "Multi-purpose."

Rodion's optics flickered, the faintest hint of amusement in his tone.

<Master Mikhailis has accurately summarized my functions.>

Serelith nuzzled into Rodion's warm surface, her violet eyes sparkling with mischief. "I'm starting to think you might be my new favorite person… or whatever you are."

<I will accept that compliment with the appropriate humility,> Rodion responded, though his soft glow seemed to brighten, almost like a blush.

Mikhailis shook his head, a fond smile touching his lips. "I swear, if you two start fighting over who gets to keep him, I'm going to end up the jealous one."

"Don't be jealous," Serelith teased, her voice a soft purr. "You can keep me warm too."

Cerys chuckled, her usual stern expression softened into something gentler. "And I thought tonight would be all chaos and battle. But here we are… cuddling a talking pillow."

Mikhailis leaned back, letting out a long sigh, his chest filling with a warmth that banished the night's chill. "Yeah… chaos and comfort. That's our style."

Rodion's light flickered gently, almost like a quiet laugh.

<Master Mikhailis, now would be an opportune moment to present the gifts.>

"Oh, right!" Mikhailis reached into his pouch and pulled out two objects. "For Serelith—a hairpin with a hidden visor. For Cerys—a monocle with tactical analysis features. Both connected to Rodion."

Serelith's eyes widened, her fingers tracing the elegant hairpin's silver curves, the faint glow of magic pulsing within. "This is… incredible."

Cerys held the monocle, her lips parting slightly. "It's beautiful… and you made this?"

Mikhailis grinned. "Consider it an upgrade. I figured you two deserve the best."

Serelith's slender fingers twirled the silver hairpin, its delicate curves catching the soft lantern light. The intricate filigree shimmered with a faint, magical glow, almost like starlight woven into metal. She smiled, leaning closer to admire the fine craftsmanship. The subtle pulse of energy within the hairpin felt warm against her skin, like a gentle heartbeat.

"It's beautiful," she whispered, her violet eyes dancing with delight. "Mikhailis, you spoil us."

Cerys held the monocle between her fingers, the cool glass warming as it touched her cheek. She tilted it, catching a faint glimmer of blue light that traced her vision. "This… this is incredible," she murmured, her voice caught between awe and curiosity. "But how does it—"

And then the world changed.

Serelith's vision shifted, the delicate silver monocle over her eye pulsing with a soft blue light. At first, it was a flurry of information—data overlays, magical readings, tactical insights, each glyph and rune spinning in perfect clarity. She saw mana density maps, calculated movement speeds of enemies she had fought just moments ago, the pulse of her own mana signature dancing like a violet flame. Fascinating, she thought, her lips curving in a curious smile. So this is how Mikhailis sees the world.

But then the data stream shimmered, the lines blurring, twisting like a ripple on water. Shapes reformed, colors deepened, and the world around her melted away. No longer the cramped, incense-scented tent—she was outside, beneath a moonlit sky. Trees loomed like silent guardians, their silver leaves whispering secrets to the wind. A vast, moonlit forest path stretched out ahead, dappled with pale light.

She was riding a horse—no, not just riding. Her thighs clenched against the creature's powerful muscles, each rhythmic stride sending a heated pulse through her body. In front of her, she saw Mikhailis, his strong back a reassuring wall of warmth. His hands gripped her waist, his touch possessive, guiding her hips with a steady, commanding pressure. She felt the rough leather of his gloves against her dress, the subtle brush of his breath against her cheek as he leaned close.

Her own voice whispered, a tremor of excitement and restraint. "M-Mikhailis… Cerys is right there…"

In the vision, just ahead, Cerys rode her own mount, oblivious to the forbidden dance taking place mere feet behind her. Serelith's cheeks flushed, a rush of heat pooling in her core. Her hands clutched Mikhailis's shoulders, her nails digging in as each subtle motion sent a fresh wave of pleasure rippling through her. The subtle bounce of the horse beneath them added a wicked rhythm, the sensation of his length filling her hidden beneath the rustle of her dress.

Her lips parted, and she bit down on her own knuckle to muffle the soft, needy moan that escaped. Her breath came in quick, trembling gasps, the mix of fear and thrill sending sparks up her spine. The trees blurred around her, but every detail of him remained searingly clear—his sharp jawline, the dark curl of his hair, the fierce hunger in his gaze as he glanced back at her, one hand tightening on her waist, pulling her closer.

Her body moved instinctively, her muscles tightening around him, desperate for more. The risk of being caught, the tension of keeping her voice quiet—it all made the heat burn hotter, her cheeks flush deeper. Mikhailis's breath was against her ear, his voice a low, teasing whisper. "Careful, Serelith… if you moan too loudly, Cerys will hear."