The Eccentric Entomologist is Now a Queen's Consort

Chapter 236: The Nostalgic Dream

The Chimera Ant workers moved with relentless precision, their claws and mandibles digging into the soft earth as they widened the hole beneath the Mist Whale. Mikhailis stood a short distance away, his halberd planted firmly in the ground beside him. The battlefield was quiet now, save for the faint hum of Rodion’s analysis in his ear. The mist swirled sluggishly, as if mourning the loss of its guardian, while faint glimmers from the Mist Whale’s dimming runes bathed the area in an eerie light.

Mikhailis crossed his arms, watching as the workers secured the colossal beast. Its lifeless body seemed heavier now, as if the absence of its ethereal presence weighed it down further. The ground trembled when the whale’s bulk shifted, and he felt the vibrations travel up through his boots.

Of course, it’s always precarious. You’d think I was planning to drop a palace on this thing, Mikhailis thought, smirking to himself. He stepped closer to the pit’s edge, observing the workers as they created an intricate network of supports to stabilize the massive creature.

"Careful now," he murmured, half to himself. The Chimera Ants responded without hesitation, adjusting their positions as if attuned to his thoughts. Their efficiency never ceased to amaze him. Each clawed motion was deliberate, precise, as though they’d rehearsed this exact scenario a thousand times.

When the last supports were in place, the Mist Whale’s body settled into the pit with a faint thud that shook the earth, sending subtle vibrations rippling through the surrounding terrain. Mikhailis felt the tremor travel up through his boots, the ground seeming to groan under the immense weight of the creature. Above, the mist swirled in slow, languid motions, as if acknowledging the whale’s final resting place. The Chimera Ant workers, undeterred by the subtle shifts in the earth, swarmed the perimeter with practiced efficiency. Their claws scraped against the soil as they carefully layered loose dirt and foliage over the pit, their movements precise and almost ritualistic. Each worker operated in seamless harmony, the scene resembling a coordinated dance of survival and instinct. Within minutes, the massive hole transformed, its edges disappearing under a meticulous camouflage of greenery and disturbed earth. To the untrained eye, it now looked like nothing more than an untouched patch of forest floor, the haunting reality of what lay beneath hidden entirely. Mikhailis let out a slow breath, his gaze lingering on the patch of ground.

For something that big, it feels too quiet now, he thought, his sharp eyes scanning the freshly concealed surface. The battlefield beyond was eerily silent, littered with remnants of their earlier fight. For a brief moment, he allowed himself to feel a sense of triumph, though it was tempered by the lingering weight of exhaustion. He stepped back, his boots crunching softly against the scattered debris of the skirmish, and turned his attention to the scattered monster corpses that dotted the area, each a testament to their grueling victory.

Mikhailis nodded, scanning the battlefield. The scattered remains of other monsters lay strewn across the ground, their twisted forms a grim reminder of the earlier chaos.

"Yeah, Rodion. Go ahead. But tell me something—what kind of traits do you think this thing will pass on to the Queen?"

Mikhailis’s lips curved into a grin.

Magical resonance, huh? That could make things interesting. He crouched down, picking up a piece of broken chitin from one of the fallen Chimera Ant soldiers. It was still warm to the touch, the faint glow of its internal magic fading slowly.@@@@

"How’s the next batch of variants coming along?" he asked, turning the fragment over in his hand.

"Two days?" Mikhailis raised an eyebrow.

"You better not be pulling my leg, Rodion. I’ve been waiting to field my first variant squad for weeks now."

"Ah, the sarcasm. My one constant in this chaotic world." Mikhailis chuckled, tossing the chitin fragment aside.

"Dimitri," Mikhailis called, a note of surprise in his voice. His brother’s face was uncharacteristically bright, a genuine smile replacing the usual burdened expression.

"Mikhailis! You’re up early. Come, join me for breakfast," Dimitri said, clapping him on the shoulder.

The warmth in Dimitri’s voice was disarming, a stark contrast to the usual guarded tone Mikhailis had grown accustomed to. He followed his brother down the grand corridor, the sound of their boots echoing against the polished marble floor. The faint scent of aged wood and fresh pastries wafted through the air, a subtle reminder of mornings long past. As they entered the dining hall, the grandeur of the room seemed to press down upon him—the gilded chandeliers casting intricate patterns across the ornate walls, the long table set with precision that bordered on obsessive. Their parents were already seated, their postures stiff with the weight of unspoken expectations as always. The atmosphere shifted immediately, the air heavy with tension that settled like a storm cloud over the room, threatening to break at any moment.

"Dimitri, you should take notes from your brother," their father began, his tone sharp. "Mikhailis may not care for the throne, but at least he doesn’t stumble through his duties like you."

I guess he’s the same as always.

Dimitri laughed, a sound that seemed almost too light for the situation. "Father, if Mikhailis wanted the throne, I’d gladly step aside. But alas, he’s too busy chasing butterflies."

Mikhailis grinned. "Butterflies, anime, and a bit of freedom. That’s the dream."

Their mother sighed, shaking her head. "When will you two take things seriously?"

Despite the jabs and criticisms, Mikhailis couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of belonging. The palace’s grandeur, the biting remarks, even Dimitri’s unusual laughter—it all felt like home. But something lingered at the edge of his thoughts, a nagging unease he couldn’t quite place.

Ah.... Then Mikhailis realized.

This Phenomenon.

I guess I’m homesick...

____

"-Ness,"

"-Highness,"

"Your Highness," the voice said, soft but urgent.

Mikhailis blinked, his vision clearing to reveal Cerys leaning over him. Her bare shoulders caught the faint light filtering into the room, her long red hair cascading around her like a fiery halo.

"What... what happened?" he asked, his voice hoarse.

Cerys’s green eyes were filled with concern. She placed a hand on his forehead, her touch cool against his fevered skin.

"Your Highness, you’re burning," she said softly.