The Eccentric Entomologist is Now a Queen's Consort

Chapter 227: Neutralizing Unwanted Threats

Mikhailis woke to the damp heat of the room, the scent of sweat and intimacy lingering in the air. His body was entangled with Cerys’, her head resting comfortably against his chest. Her fiery red hair was a disheveled mess, spilling across his bare skin in soft waves. He smiled faintly, running a hand through her hair as he gazed at the ceiling.

The tranquility was interrupted by a familiar voice.

Mikhailis groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. Not now, Rodion.

"Alright, let’s skip that part and get straight to business," he muttered under his breath, careful not to wake Cerys.

The faint glow of his glasses activated, and Rodion’s voice became more precise.

Mikhailis sighed. "Fine. Increase the number of Chimera Ant scouts to forty."

Rodion’s tone remained even, but Mikhailis could sense the faint satisfaction in the AI’s efficiency.

"Got it," Mikhailis whispered. His gaze flickered to Cerys, her peaceful expression softening the sharpness of her usual demeanor. She deserves some credit for keeping this fragile prince consort alive.

"Thanks, Rodion," he muttered sarcastically, earning a faint chuckle from himself.

"As expected of them," Mikhailis murmured, his voice tinged with admiration. He glanced down at Cerys again, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "And my Lone Wolf here is doing a hell of a job keeping me alive too."

"Yeah, let’s hear it," he said, settling back against the pillows.

Mikhailis frowned, his gaze sharpening.

"Perfect," Mikhailis murmured, his grin widening.

"They’re in disarray. Time to finish this."

The Frog Variant and Scurabons struck first, their combined speed and strength overwhelming the unprepared Technomancers. The Frog Variant’s powerful legs sent enemies flying, while the Scurabons’ razor-sharp claws tore through armor and flesh alike.

The Hypnoveil joined the fray, its tendrils wrapping around necks and limbs with unrelenting force. One Technomancer, his face pale with terror, gasped out, "No! Please! Don’t!" but the Hypnoveil’s grip silenced him forever, his body crumpling into the dirt. The Scurabons, sharp and precise, targeted those fumbling for their devices. One Technomancer managed to retrieve a small orb, his trembling fingers activating it, but a Scurabon lunged, severing his hand before the device could ignite. His scream echoed briefly before he was silenced by a swift slash to the throat.

Another Technomancer, clutching a glowing weapon, shouted, "We have to retreat! Signal the others!" but he was tackled by the Frog Variant Chimera Ant, its massive limbs pinning him down as it crushed the weapon underfoot. The Hypnoveil turned to a trio of Technomancers attempting to flee, ensnaring them with its tendrils.

"Please! Let us go!" one of them cried, but his voice was cut off as the tendrils constricted, leaving the group lifeless.

The Chimera Ant soldiers descended like a coordinated storm, their claws slicing through armor and flesh alike. Every attempt to regroup or fight back was met with swift, calculated strikes. One desperate Technomancer pulled a concealed blade, aiming to stab one of the ants, but the creature’s reflexes were too sharp. It disarmed him effortlessly before delivering a fatal blow.

In the chaos, a Technomancer tried to retrieve another signaling device, fumbling as his hands trembled uncontrollably. A Scurabon leapt onto him, pinning his arm and snapping his wrist before the device could be activated. His scream was cut short by the Frog Variant, which struck with brutal efficiency.

Within moments, the Technomancers lay strewn across the clearing. Their cries of panic and pleas for mercy were replaced by an eerie silence. The Hypnoveil hovered above the last victim, ensuring no threat remained before retracting its tendrils, the battlefield now under total control. The Chimera Ants’ precision and lethality left nothing to chance, their enemies annihilated without the slightest opportunity for retaliation.

Mikhailis watched, his heart pounding with excitement.

"They’ll make excellent nutrients for the nest," he said, his voice filled with satisfaction.

Rodion’s voice interrupted his thoughts.

Mikhailis nodded, his gaze lingering on the feed. Something caught his attention—one of the dying Technomancers raising his wrist and activating a device. A faint glow emanated from the screen before his hand fell limp.

Mikhailis’s expression hardened.

A signal? To whom? He leaned back, his mind racing.

"Rodion, keep an eye on any incoming activity. I don’t like surprises."

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Satisfied, Mikhailis removed his glasses and placed them on the bedside table. He glanced at Cerys, still peacefully asleep in his arms, her breath steady and soft. He tightened his hold on her slightly, allowing himself a rare moment of vulnerability.

Whatever comes next, we’ll handle it together.

With that thought, he closed his eyes, letting sleep claim him once more.