Chapter Twenty-Six: The Temporal Ant

Under Lu Sheng’s flawless command, the number of red fire ants dwindled steadily. On his defensive line, however, there were never fewer than twenty of them. For every ant that fell, another took its place—when he killed an enemy, that ant became his own. Even a one-for-one exchange would ultimately lead to Lu Sheng’s victory. Winning such a battle required little thought.

Then the ant generals appeared, their dark, reddish-black carapaces promising formidable defense. All five emerged at once. Lu Sheng directed the stone-throwing goblins to attack. Once again, egg-shaped pebbles soared in graceful arcs across the sky, striking the ant generals squarely on the head.

Bang!

The sound was like a drum being struck. The stones bounced off, leaving only a dent at the point of impact—no penetration. The attack had fallen just short; with a bit more force, perhaps the ant general would have been slain instantly.

Nonetheless, the blow left the ant general dazed—it staggered, shaking its head as if drunk, clearly concussed. But aside from this one temporarily incapacitated general, four others stormed into the fray. Their thick, black mandibles sliced through Lu Sheng’s soldier ants as though they were nothing but soft tofu. When their jaws closed around his ants, a slight squeeze was enough to snap them in two without resistance.

He had to intervene, or his lines would be destroyed by these generals. Summoning thirty red fire ants to hold the battlefield, he left them crowding behind, ready to fill any gaps as the front faltered.

He didn’t use his machete to attack the ant generals; he doubted it was harder than their shells. If he struck with all his might and the blade shattered, it would be embarrassing.

Instead, he summoned a goblin who hadn’t undergone any enhancements and took the black wooden club from its hands. The moment he gripped it, he felt its weight, dense and heavy as iron. This was ironwood from the goblin world—a timber whose branches and trunks were saturated with iron, giving it astonishing density. It made for an excellent blunt weapon.

Clutching the club, he activated Possession of the Space-Time Ant and moved to the front lines. Using this ability consumed his stamina; even without employing the ant’s special skills, simply channeling its power enhanced his own physique and sapped his energy. If he did use its abilities, he would tire even faster.

Possession-type life-bound cards and their hosts complemented one another. As the card’s rank increased, it fed back into the host’s body, strengthening it, because using the card’s power always drew upon the host’s reserves. Summoning the life-bound card to fight separately, however, did not drain his own strength.

Just as Lu Sheng was about to engage the enemy using Possession of the Space-Time Ant, a sudden thought reached him from the ant itself—it wanted to come out!

Life-bound cards had their own consciousness. At higher ranks, both life-bound and captured monster cards could communicate with their users. The difference was that life-bound cards could communicate from the start, while monsters captured with blank cards only gained this ability at higher levels. By that stage, whether captured or not, monsters could communicate freely.

Except for that faint sense of intent during its first enhancement, his life-bound card had never reached out to him. The reason was clear: previously, the card had been on the verge of collapse, its consciousness flickering weakly. Now, after some recovery, it could finally communicate.

Since the Space-Time Ant wanted to emerge, Lu Sheng obliged, setting aside the battle for the moment. According to the message the ant sent him, it had a solution.

He summoned his life-bound card—a thumb-sized, silver-white ant appeared in his palm. This was the true form of the Space-Time Ant. It seemed delighted to be out, and as its master, Lu Sheng could clearly sense its joy. The ant affectionately nuzzled his palm, then climbed onto his fingertip.

A peculiar aura of authority radiated from the Space-Time Ant, pressing down upon the red fire ants still fighting below. This pressure was intangible and invisible, leaving the surrounding air unchanged. Lu Sheng could sense it only because he was the ant’s master.

As the aura descended, every red fire ant—general and soldier alike—prostrated themselves, bowing their heads in submission. Even the red fire ants under Lu Sheng’s control lay obediently on the ground, unmoving.

So powerful… a bloodline suppression?

The Space-Time Ant revealed the reason to Lu Sheng, bounding gleefully across his palm, its tiny head fixed on him, as if to say, “Master, aren’t I amazing?” Of course, the ant was still not strong enough to convey such nuanced thoughts—Lu Sheng could only infer its meaning from the emotions it projected.

“Excellent, truly excellent. Once again, you’ve been a great help to me,” Lu Sheng praised.

The Space-Time Ant grew even more spirited, vigorously rubbing his thumb. As for why Lu Sheng said “again”—their escape from Sky Island had been thanks to the ant as well.

Now that the red fire ants dared not resist, the rest was simple: he directed the goblins to slaughter them.

The ant generals’ shells were tough, but if one strike wouldn’t break them, what about ten?

While the goblins dealt with the red fire ants, Lu Sheng went in search of the queen. He wasn’t in a rush to collect the red sacs from the corpses; only after securing the queen would he feel at ease.

Ant queens were immense and rarely surfaced above ground, usually residing deep within the nest’s center. Reaching the heart of the red fire ant colony, he summoned all his red fire ants—now numbering over a hundred—and directed them to dig downward rapidly.

The surface earth was soon cleared, revealing a network of tunnels before his eyes. He collapsed them one after another, digging deeper layer by layer. Soon, a group of prostrate worker ants appeared. He dispatched them with a casual swipe and continued to excavate.

With no resistance, it took less than five minutes to find the queen—a colossal creature nearly two meters in length, grotesquely fat and pale, resembling a giant white grub. This was the ant queen’s true form. He wondered if a punch would make it burst with juice… On second thought, he’d better aim for the head; he didn’t want his hands coated in white fluid.

Compared to her body, the queen’s head was ridiculously small, barely the size of two fists—utterly out of proportion with her enormous form. Without hesitation, he struck her head with a heavy blow, and a new card appeared in his card space.

With the queen dispatched, Lu Sheng returned outside to join the massacre. With the red fire ants subdued and unable to resist, they were wiped out within minutes.

After the last red fire ant was killed, a wave of fatigue washed over from the Space-Time Ant. Lu Sheng, surprised, removed it from atop his head and saw its listless state—it was no longer lively, lying motionless in his hand.

Clearly, this exhaustion had not just set in—it had been suppressing the red fire ants with all its might. Only after the battle did it admit its weariness.

Feeling a pang of guilt, Lu Sheng gently stroked the Space-Time Ant. “Rest now. Don’t worry, I’ll restore you to your former strength as soon as possible.”