They move in a cluster.
The river flowing at night became waves, and those waves gathered and spread out their branches. The more they gathered, the denser they became, solidifying, and finally, they transformed into a spear.
Just like a spear carved from wood, its tip was incredibly sharp, formed at a single point.
And resting at that point was none other than a special individual among the ants.
It was quite red in color, exuding an inexplicable sense of threat.
With its blood-red body that seemed to have congealed from gathered blood, a plump rear end, and a thorn protruding from the end of its hind.
“Solenopsis invicta?”
Solenopsis invicta.
An ant known as the Red Imported Fire Ant, or simply Fire Ant.
That ant was now attempting to penetrate the veil Kenneth had created.
No, it wasn’t just one ant.
Rustle.
Rustle.
Within the interior of that cluster created by the army ants, red imported fire ants were emerging one by one, as if passing through a path made just for venom. Waiting for the veil to fully break through, they gradually positioned themselves on top of the thorns, raising their stingers high while glaring at Kenneth.
Their antennae twitched, and they moved their legs as if they were itching.
They desperately wished to stab Kenneth with their stingers.
“Oh dear.”
Kenneth frowned deeply at that realization.
He knew well that getting bitten by that red imported fire ant would not be painless.
Though he had never experienced it himself… he had heard vivid stories from someone who had.
A fellow professor who was obsessed with fossil excavation had once shared a tale of being bitten by that ant in South America, and the details were so vivid that it was easy to imagine the pain.
He had said that the stinger of the red imported fire ant contained Solenopsin, causing pain severe enough to feel like being burned.
The colleague recounted that, upon the first sting, he thought it was merely a bee sting. Fortunately, he did not have an allergy to bee venom, so he was relieved that he wouldn’t have to worry about anaphylactic reactions and thought he could just apply some medicine later, treating it lightly—
But with time, the pain intensified.
It was as if someone had seared the spot with fire.
Realizing something was wrong with the pain, the colleague had checked the area, rolling up his clothing, only to find it swollen. The pain he felt was significant enough that he began to consider whether he should stop the excavation and go to the hospital.
Then, as rashes broke out on his body, dizziness set in, and he felt his heart pounding, he quickly thought he needed to rush to the hospital, sprinting there with a graduate student in tow. Only after receiving an injection of epinephrine at the hospital did he feel reassured.
Of course, in that case, it was due to an allergic reaction to the venom of the red imported fire ant…
But that didn’t mean it was something to take lightly.
Though the chance was low, Kenneth could also experience anaphylaxis from that stinger, and even if he didn’t, being mercilessly stung by that ant wouldn’t be a good experience.
I had heard it was painful enough to compare to a burn…
If he had to endure such pain while fighting a shaman, it would surely be detrimental.
‘To be able to control insects like that… it would be correct to call him a Bug Sorcerer.’
Kenneth frowned while contemplating the shaman in the hotel who had interrupted him.
‘Bug Sorcerer, Bug Sorcerer…’
Should he continue fighting?
Would it be worth the risk to force his way into the hotel?
If not, should he retreat?
Kenneth pondered for a moment.
And after his contemplation, the conclusion was drawn.
‘I must retreat.’
He decided to leave this place.
Bam—!
He swung his rosary again, shattering the thorns that made contact with him as if in irritation. The ants that formed the thorns burst apart and scattered in all directions, and the scattered ants attempted to regroup after several tries to pass through the light he created, seemingly believing they needed to cluster together to penetrate it.
And before that ant could reconstruct its thorns,
Bam—!
He swung his rosary again.
Unalike before, when he had aimed precisely, this time, he targeted just the empty ground.
“And He said to Adam, ‘Because you have listened to the voice of your wife and have eaten of the tree of which I commanded you, you shall not eat of it, cursed is the ground because of you; in pain you shall eat of it all the days of your life!'”
Then, as if waiting for that moment, he invoked a curse on the barren ground.
The curse rendered the land barren and dried up the life force of the creatures upon it.
Of course, it wasn’t a significant curse, nor was it performed with any ritual; it was done rather casually, hence its effect was quite minimal.
It would hardly even dry out someone’s skin, let alone withering a plant; it would merely keep it from getting water for a few days.
Yet in the present situation, it was undoubtedly a quite useful method.
Even if it were just a trivial effect, it would be something the small creatures could not afford to ignore.
Rustle.
Kenneth’s assumption was precisely correct.
As he used the magic, the movement of the ants began to slow.
Some ants seemed too weak to move, sitting down right where they were, while others began to flounder as though intoxicated. The ants that had been struggling to create the thorns dropped to the ground, and the thorns that had been formed started losing density clearly. Gaps were appearing everywhere, and holes were punctured, as if a small child could easily break them with a kick.
Seeing this, Kenneth quickly placed the rosary back on his wrist.
He then glanced at the hotel briefly before turning his body to disappear.
They encounter each other.
Their eyes meet.
Through the glass darkened by shadows, the gazes of two people slide past each other.
Kenneth’s gaze, looking out from within the hotel, brushed by Jinseong’s momentarily, who was glancing inside, unable to see anything. And during the briefest of moments, countless thoughts passed between them.
Kenneth resolved to promise a meeting with the shaman inside the hotel and expressed his determination not to give up what he was targeting.
The eyes are the windows to the heart.
And thus, his resolve was sufficiently revealed through that window, allowing Jinseong to realize that Kenneth would one day return to visit him again.
What about Jinseong?
What might have slipped out through his window?
What thoughts fluttered between their gazes upon crossing?
After a ripple in the water, the essence of the stirred-up silt began to float.
“Hmm.”
What shows itself within the murky waters is memory.
One among the myriad of memories he saw and heard before time twisted, and a fleeting glimpse of that shaman.
Thus, Jinseong could deduce who the shaman that first attacked him with magic was.
Indeed.
It is mere speculation.
It’s not certain.
The reason is simple.
“That shaman might be the crazy shaman I heard of through rumors…”
Because he hadn’t directly faced the shaman, it was difficult to grasp his identity through appearances.
And it wasn’t easy to recognize him at all, as he didn’t possess the characteristics typical of other shamans.
‘Is he the shaman related to the volcano?’
Lastly, it was because he was a shaman who had vanished from the world before Jinseong could even show true interest.
Magic is a hazardous ability.
If one knows the precise methods, anyone can use it, yet the cost is exceedingly heavy, gnawing away at the user.
Those who use magic struggle with the weight of that cost, and those who endure that torment are few.
However, among those who accept the full weight of that torment and use magic, there are very few who remain unscathed.
This speaks of the horror of what that cost entails.
Thus, many among shamans cannot withstand that weight.
They collapse under the burdens of their grand ambitions, buried beneath the earth without achieving their targets.
It is inevitable.
They might endure mere bodily and mental anguish…
But this cost is truly cruel and unpredictable.
Therefore, should one touch a deadly element, one may not withstand the cost and ultimately meet their demise.
And in such deaths, there exist costs that touch upon the psyche, too.
This pertained to the costs related to the brain and nerves, and to the illness created by the accumulation of those light and heavy costs.
Thus, there arise instances where shamans are driven by factors other than their grand ideals and mental strength.
This is a fate inevitable for those with flesh.
How could one not be impacted when directly affecting the brain?
How can a being of blood and flesh easily resist it?
This is the reason for the shamans whose minds become strange, even beyond their eccentricities.
