The Eccentric Entomologist is Now a Queen's Consort

Chapter 278: The Ruined Village of Serewyn

The ruins were eerily silent, with only the faint rustling of wind through charred beams and broken walls. Mikhailis stood at the edge of what had once been the village square, his gaze sweeping across the desolation. His glasses glimmered faintly as Rodion’s voice murmured softly in his ear.

Mikhailis slipped his hands into his pockets, maintaining a casual posture as though he were merely surveying the wreckage left behind by a storm. In truth, the chimera ants were already in motion, their small forms darting into the ruins with uncanny precision. They crept into every crack, scaled burned beams with insectile ease, and disappeared into the soil to gather traces of whatever had transpired here. Their silent efficiency gave the eerie impression of a place being combed through by an unseen intelligence.

From the corner of his eye, Mikhailis caught the faintest flicker of movement, a chimera ant darting along a charred beam. To anyone else, it would seem like nothing more than a fleeting shadow, a trick of the dying light. His expression remained neutral, though inwardly he marveled at their deftness.

Amazing what you can accomplish with creatures this meticulous.

As the ants worked, a soft, almost imperceptible hum accompanied their movements, picked up only by the audio sensors in his glasses. Each movement was relayed back to Rodion in real-time, the AI processing the data with machine precision. Mikhailis feigned disinterest, occasionally turning his gaze to the sky, but every subtle gesture was calculated to avoid suspicion from the others.

"Looks like someone hosted a barbecue and forgot to invite me," Mikhailis muttered under his breath, his tone light but his expression serious.

Rodion’s tone carried its usual clinical detachment, though Mikhailis could detect the faintest hint of intrigue. He strolled forward, crouching near a collapsed structure and running his fingers over a charred beam.

This isn’t just monsters tearing through... This was deliberate.

"Sabotage?" he murmured, keeping his voice low.

The faint glow of his glasses provided a feed from the chimera ants, showing close-up details of the destroyed wards. As the chimera ants examined the intricate carvings with their precision tools, the signs of deliberate tampering became painfully evident. The once-smooth glyphs had been crudely scratched out, their flow of protective magic severed at critical junctures. The marks weren’t random—there was a calculated intent to the disruption, with key glyphs rendered ineffective as though by someone well-versed in ward design.

Mikhailis’s brow furrowed as he processed the images.

These aren’t the claw marks of a rampaging monster. Someone knew exactly what they were doing. He adjusted his glasses slightly, his mind racing. The patterns and the precision of the damage pointed to an orchestrated effort rather than the chaotic destruction of a horde.

Mikhailis crouched down near a piece of a broken ward stone, brushing away soot and ash. His gloved fingers traced the faint outlines of the destroyed glyphs.

This wasn’t just sabotage—it was an invitation. Someone wanted the monsters to finish what they started. He let out a slow breath, his mind piecing together the scenario. Whoever had done this didn’t just disrupt the defenses; they had ensured the monsters would be drawn to the village in the aftermath, amplifying the destruction.

As the feed switched to another location where the chimera ants were scuttling over scorched earth, Rodion added another observation.

Mikhailis straightened, brushing his hands on his trousers. He turned to the others, his expression grim.

Across the fire, Cerys sat sharpening her sword with methodical precision, her green eyes focused yet distant, as though sensing the weight of the unknown. The metallic scrape of blade against whetstone was a steady counterpoint to the crackling fire. Lira stood at the edge of the light, her silhouette graceful and poised as always, though her gaze betrayed a flicker of concern as it drifted toward Mikhailis.

"What’s on your mind?" she asked softly, her voice cutting through the low murmur of the group’s preparations.

Mikhailis glanced at her, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Oh, you know, just pondering life’s big questions. Like who decided a haunted village was the perfect spot for a sleepover."

Lira’s expression didn’t change, her dark eyes steady and unyielding.

"You’ve been too quiet. That’s never a good sign."

He leaned back slightly, propping himself up with his hands against the cool ground.

"Just wondering who benefits from turning a village into ash. Seems like a lot of effort for someone with no motive."

Cerys’s sharpening paused as she lifted her gaze, her emerald eyes narrowing.

"You think someone orchestrated this?"

"Think? I’m almost certain," Mikhailis replied, his tone laced with dry humor that failed to mask the steel beneath.

"The question isn’t ’who did it’—it’s ’what were they trying to hide?’"

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Before anyone could respond, a faint rustling sound echoed from the darkened edge of the ruins. It was subtle, almost swallowed by the ambient noise of the night, but enough to draw everyone’s attention. Cerys was on her feet in an instant, her sword flashing as she held it at the ready. Rhea followed a heartbeat later, her movements fluid as she scanned the shadows with practiced vigilance.

Lira stepped closer to Mikhailis, her hands resting lightly on the folds of her cloak, though her posture was anything but relaxed. Estella, standing by the wards, stiffened visibly, her fingers clutching the edges of her shawl.

Mikhailis remained seated, his gaze unwavering as he stared into the encroaching darkness. His voice, low and measured, broke the tense silence.

"Rodion?"

The faint glow of his glasses intensified as Rodion processed the data, feeding silent updates directly into his view. Mikhailis’s hand drifted toward the hilt of his dagger, though he made no immediate move to rise. The firelight danced across his face, highlighting the sharp angles of his expression as he waited.

The rustling grew louder, closer, the sound amplified by the oppressive quiet of the ruins. Time seemed to stretch, every second weighed down by the collective anticipation of the group. Mikhailis’s gaze narrowed, his mind racing through scenarios even as he exhaled slowly to steady himself.

"Figures," Mikhailis muttered under his breath, his voice barely audible over the crackle of the fire. He straightened slightly, his tone calm but firm as he addressed the others.

"Stay ready. Looks like we’ve got company."