The Barbarian Enchanter: A LitRPG Fantasy Adventure by Burt Wrenlaw & LitRPG Freaks

Author:Burt Wrenlaw & LitRPG Freaks [Wrenlaw, Burt & Freaks, LitRPG]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-11-17T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 22

The Lone Clawer watched as the injured Clawers within the mass ambled off, forming parties to hunt what biomass they could to fuel their regeneration. They would need it to recover from their injuries, especially with their main nest having been ravaged by the bipedals.

It turned back to the main bulk of the swarm, which by now had been reduced from a force one thousand and twenty-four strong to just six hundred and nineteen. This mass outnumbered the bipedals more than two-to-one, but the Lone Clawer knew that it would not be enough—not with the bipedals wielding that destructive magic of theirs.

It put out a vote, spreading the scents of ‘caution,’ ‘observe,’ and ‘separate’ to the mass. The surviving Clawers respected its decisions, with none scenting dissent or offering alternative proposals. This shocking turnout surprised the Lone Clawer, considering how dissenting opinion was always presented during a scent-debate.

This rather worried the Lone Clawer, as it began comprehending the responsibility that it had taken upon itself. That existential debate, however, was quickly cut short as the bipedals began reforming. They shifted into two slanted lines as they began marching down the cleared path of dirt, aiming the center of their formation at the mass of Clawers while doing so.

They were practically daring the Clawers to impede their progress, to meet them in battle, for it was the only way the Clawers were going to hinder their progress.

The Lone Clawer thought about how best to react, rasping out a complicated mix of ‘caution,’ ‘hold formation,’ ‘maintain distance,’ and ‘observe prey.’ The Lone Clawer had to repeat the instructions a few times, as its peers were still unaccustomed to more complex chains of rasped communications. The other Clawers, however, understood its intentions soon enough.

They cautiously held their staggered formation, maintaining the distance between them and the bipedals. They did so while observing the prey before them, holding back instead of rushing in to meet their enemy in battle. They continued to do so even when one group of bipedals separated from their mass, presenting an attractive target for swarming. That group further distanced itself from the main mass of humans, making it more and more vulnerable to flanking.

So much so that the Lone Clawer seriously contemplated instructing the mass to converge on that group of five bipedals—especially since its nemesis walked confidently among them, glaring at the Lone Clawer with what it suspected was contempt.

And yet… and yet the Lone Clawer felt as if something was wrong. The bipedals had repeatedly presented themselves as vulnerable, as easy to overwhelm with numbers. They were doing so once again, intentionally splitting off one small chunk from the main group.

The nemesis—no, The Nemesis—began vocalizing once more, roaring those offensive challenges that it often did. The other Clawers unfamiliar with its vocalizations began shifting, agitated by the innately insulting nature that made the listener want to run up and tear the offensive bipedal to shreds.

The Lone Clawer, however, knew from long experience what was going on.

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