As the queen ant trembled like someone stifling a sob...
‘Maybe I brought it up too soon?’
I’d slipped in a recruitment offer disguised as comfort—and now I was nervously wondering whether she’d accept it.
Thankfully, reinforcements came pouring in.
[Yes, let’s go with our benefactor. I haven’t spent long with him, but seeing how he lives alongside the children now, I can tell—he’s someone worth trusting.]
[That’s right. Let’s go together. We too were trapped for centuries by the schemes of evil humans, but thanks to him, we were awakened.]
It was like they already knew what to do—my family stepped in to help without hesitation.
Even Yeoncheon and Yeonji, who had only recently joined us, along with the old hands like Cho and Yo-hwa.
–Tsrut. 『Let’s go together. Our dad is a good person. I vouch for him.』
–Ksssht!
‘Wait, did Cho just say vouch?’
I was honestly a bit surprised to hear that word from Cho.
Not just because it was a sophisticated word for her to use, but because—if you’re a father—one of the first lessons you teach your daughter is never to vouch for just anyone.
But that rule applies to humans.
I, her father, was exempt.
So the lesson on the dangers of giving out guarantees would have to wait.
After all, even if you can’t trust any man in the world... you can trust your dad.
‘We’ll get to the cautionary lectures later. First, let’s focus on recruiting.’
And as the spiritual creatures began lining up to vouch for this So-ryong, the trembling in the Azure Steel Immortal Ant queen’s body subsided... and at last, she slowly nodded her head.
Ttak.
[She says yes, Benefactor. She’s in your care.]
‘Yes! Thank goodness.’
I was genuinely relieved to hear her agreement.
Honestly, I’d never failed to recruit a spiritual creature—not once. I’d been lucky up to now.
But if she had flatly refused to follow us, I would’ve had no means to force her.
Sure, I’d have tried to persuade her a few more times, and if that failed—though I didn’t even want to consider it—I would’ve had to let her go.
In any other situation, maybe I could’ve at least felt a tiny bit of peace about it.
But not this time.
If we had split up outside the tomb, it would’ve been too cold for the ants to survive. Even if we released them, the queen and the two storage ants wouldn’t have stood a chance on their own.
And while I might be a venomous-creature maniac, my collecting and breeding work wasn’t done out of cruelty or selfishness.
I wanted to understand them better, clear away misunderstandings, and find a path where people and venomous creatures could coexist.
So there was no way I could let them go, knowing they would die.
But now that they’d chosen to come with us—I could breathe easy again.
‘Ah... what a fine tomb raid this turned out to be. Got what I came for. Time to head back?’
With the queen ant agreeing to come along, it was, in the end, a happy ending.
I figured we’d gotten everything we needed from this tomb, and we could now prepare to leave.
–Ttak. Ttak-ttak.
Suddenly, more clicking came from behind the queen.
Looking over, I saw the two storage ants—repletes—hanging from the low ceiling. They were beginning to stir, likely revived by the warming temperature of the chamber.
–Ttak!?
–Chhhk!
–Ttak. Ttak-tak-tak.
But then, alongside the clicking, came a sudden hiss.
From behind the queen, a green mist erupted rapidly.
Hwa-eun cried out in alarm.
“Everyone, get back! That’s poison!”
“What!? Why now? Weren’t things going well!?”
Everyone quickly retreated as the acrid stench rolled in.
It was an incredibly familiar smell.
I’d inhaled it many times in my past life.
Formic acid—the scent of ants.
Back when I used to hunt fire ants in my previous life, it was a smell I’d come across often.
Apparently, the Azure Steel Immortal Ants possessed powerful formic acid.
‘Oho, formic acid. That’s a good one. There’s all kinds of uses for that.’
The concentration must’ve been extremely dense—this was a spiritual creature, after all—but even so, for a spirit beast’s venom, it was surprisingly mild, though not useless.
On the contrary, strong formic acid was quite valuable.
It had wide applications: in tanning and dyeing for leather and textiles, as a preservative in livestock feed, as a solvent and pH adjuster in pharmaceuticals, as an insecticide and pesticide in agriculture, in rubber coagulation, metal plating, even fragrance production.
It was also excellent for preventing mites in my little ones.
I’d never seen a mite latch onto one of my spiritual creatures, but still—formic acid was perfect if any ever showed up.
Some birds even deliberately agitate fire ant nests to have them crawl over their feathers—the acid helps clear out parasites.
Formic acid was potent against ticks and fleas alike.
The Tang Clan probably understood some of its utility.
But since it was hard to extract from tiny ants, they likely didn’t make regular use of it.
With ants this big, though? Plenty of venom, and easy to harvest.
Time to show off some son-in-law credentials.
‘Just in time to remind everyone what a great son-in-law I am.’
Even my future father-in-law and Tang Mu-seong would be pleased.
Smiling at the queen ant, I looked up—only to find her flustered, clearly scolding one of the ants.
–Ttak-tak. Ttak-tak-tak.
–Ttak...
She seemed panicked—definitely hadn’t expected that sudden burst of venom.
But it was obviously just a misunderstanding.
From the way she was urgently chastising one of the storage ants, it was clear what had happened: one of them woke up, saw all the humans, and panicked—reflexively releasing its poison.
Just as I was about to explain, Yeoncheon’s voice echoed to confirm it.
–Ttak. Ttak.
[Ah, so that’s what happened. Benefactor, the one that just woke up says it panicked and accidentally sprayed its venom. It apologizes.]
“I figured as much. No worries. Everyone, you heard that, right? No need to be alarmed. Just a startled little one making a mistake.”
“Honestly, if you woke up and saw Do-ryong’s face, you’d probably freak out too.”
“Totally. Totally.”
Kwon-ryong and Geom-ryong couldn’t resist teasing Do-ryong, still sulking from earlier over the broken sword and lost martial tablet.
As I smiled and told the queen ant not to worry, she turned to me again.
–Ttak-tak. Ttak-tak-tak.
[She thanks you for understanding. Also, she’s sorry, but says she’ll need help to move.]
The queen ant couldn’t travel long distances on her own, so she’d need human assistance.
And the two storage ants—naturally—couldn’t move on their own either.
“Of course. I already planned on helping.”
I nodded, then asked the queen ant,
“By the way, we should probably empty what’s in their bellies before moving them. Is that okay?”
I wasn’t asking because I wanted the Sky-Cleansing Stone Oil for myself.
It was simply practical.
The repletes—our so-called storage ants—were seriously bloated.
They needed assistance no matter what, and even with help, they were like overfilled balloons. Moving them in that condition could make them burst.
Each ant was about 20 centimeters long—not huge—but their abdomens were swollen to the size of a grown man’s fist.
If we tried to transport them like that, their bellies could rupture.
Honeypot ants often burst when they’re overfilled with liquid nutrients.
–Ttak.
[She says it’s fine.]
With permission granted, I turned to the others—who had been sulking all this time.
It struck me that this would be the perfect moment to brighten their moods.
“Everyone, how about a glass of Sky-Cleansing Stone Oil?”
Suddenly, everyone’s faces lit up.
“Sky-Cleansing Stone Oil?”
“W-wait, you have some, So-ryong!?”
“It wasn’t over there earlier—where is it, So-ryong? You know where to find it?”
***
“So you’re saying what’s inside these ants’ bellies is Sky-Cleansing Stone Oil?”
“That’s right, Ji-ryong.”
“To think the ants collected and stored it in their bellies... What a bizarre thing. But still, it feels wrong to take it...”
“Right? Still, thanks for arranging this, So-ryong.”
“Oh, it’s nothing.”
After I gave a brief explanation of what had happened and what we were going to do next, those who’d initially declined hesitated—then stared, gulping visibly, at the swollen bellies of the Azure Steel Immortal Ants.
I detached one of the ants and propped it against a low stone wall, then pulled a wooden bowl from my pack and placed it beneath her.
The way ants transfer stored nutrients is called trophallaxis—they pass it mouth-to-mouth, like bees.
Which meant... none of these people would be able to stomach it if it came straight from the ant’s mouth.
Even I had a hard time with that the first time.
So instead, I planned to have the ant excrete the liquid into the bowl so everyone could share it more comfortably.
‘I’m thoughtful to a fault. Really, I’m a pretty decent man, aren’t I?’
“Just release it into here.”
–Ttak.
At my request, the Azure Steel Immortal Ant nodded and began releasing the Sky-Cleansing Stone Oil from her mouth in droplets.
–Plop. Plop.
Milky-white drops began falling into the wooden bowl—and everyone gasped excitedly.
“We’d better start circulating our inner energy.”
“Right. Sky-Cleansing Stone Oil requires proper channeling.”
Everyone immediately sat down and began warming up their inner power, preparing to absorb the elixir as efficiently as possible.
Since Hwa-eun needed a larger amount, everyone except her and me went into internal circulation.
That left me on guard duty, watching over the group.
When I finished and went back to check the bowl of Sky-Cleansing Stone Oil, what I saw left me speechless.
The oil was dripping into the bowl... but there was barely anything left.
The ant’s belly had shrunk, but all that remained in the bowl was a thin film of liquid.
“What the—!?”
Startled, I shouted, and the others rushed over, alarmed.
“What happened, So-ryong!? What’s going on!?”
“Where did the Sky-Cleansing Stone Oil go!?”
While everyone stared in shock at the missing elixir, Hwa-eun stepped forward and calmly interjected.
“Just a moment.”
She pushed through the group, held the bowl to her nose as if sensing something... and then pulled a silver acupuncture needle from her robe.
She dipped it into the bowl—and the needle turned pitch black.
That was the Tang Clan’s silver poison-testing needle. If it darkened, it meant poison was present.
Everyone immediately cried out.
“There’s poison in the Sky-Cleansing Stone Oil!?”
“Poison!? In that?”
With everyone’s eyes on her, Hwa-eun nodded grimly.
“It must’ve mixed with the ant’s venom while it was stored inside. Look—it’s all evaporating.”
Everyone looked down at the wooden bowl and saw the liquid vanishing before their eyes.
The Sky-Cleansing Stone Oil must’ve mixed with formic acid and triggered some strange chemical reaction.
A reaction we didn’t fully understand.
“So even this elixir...”
“If there’s poison in it, none of us can drink it.”
Everyone wore the same crushed expression—as if the rug had been pulled from under them.
I turned to Hwa-eun.
“You can’t drink it either?”
We had to empty the ants’ bellies regardless—but if even she couldn’t consume it, the rest would have to be discarded entirely.
With a regretful expression, Hwa-eun shook her head.
“No... I can drink it. I’ve practiced poison arts, so a bit of ant venom won’t be an issue...”
Because she had mastered the Tang Clan’s poison cultivation, it wasn’t dangerous for her—but she clearly felt bad knowing the others couldn’t have any.
Then the group raised their hands with calm smiles.
“Heh. So it’s true—spirit medicine and spirit beasts always find their destined master.”
“No doubt about that.”
“Hwa-eun, it’s fine. Drink it. Better someone has it than it gets wasted.”
“That’s right, Poison Flower.”
The others encouraged her to take the elixir for herself, reasoning it would be worse to dump it on the ground.
But then, a new concern emerged.
“There’s a problem... I don’t think I can drink much of it anyway.”
“Why not, Hwa-eun?”
“The elixir evaporates too quickly. I can’t gather enough to take a full drink. The only option would be to catch what little the ant drops—directly under her mouth.
Even if I try, it’s unlikely I could drink more than a single mouthful.
And once I start circulating energy, I won’t be able to take more.
Besides, with spirit medicine, the first dose is what counts. After it enters your system, any second serving becomes dramatically less effective.”
Unlike the Golden-Furred Wasp Kings, who could eject elixir in strong spurts, the Azure Steel Immortal Ants could only drip it in small quantities.
Likely due to body size and structure.
So as Hwa-eun explained, even if she tried to gather it, at best she’d manage a single mouthful before it evaporated.
She might be able to collect a bit more before starting circulation—but once the qi began flowing, she’d have to begin channeling immediately.
And most spirit elixirs don’t retain full efficacy if consumed in multiple doses.
Which meant one mouthful was all she’d be allowed.
Sure, she could take it directly from the ant’s mouth, which might allow her to drink slightly more in one go...
“Such a waste...”
“To lose such a precious treasure...”
The group’s disheartened voices trailed off.
But that was only when this So-ryong wasn’t around.
I had a method to drink every last drop of the Sky-Cleansing Stone Oil in the ants—without spilling a single one.
“Don’t worry, Hwa-eun. I know a way to drink it all in one go—without any waste.”
“Huh? You mean, like how you drank from the Golden-Furred Wasp Kings? Catching it with your mouth? I’m prepared for that if needed—but at best it’d be one gulp. These ants don’t expel much to begin with, remember? So I figured just catching it as it drops would be ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) the same...”
Hwa-eun was clearly prepared for mouth-to-mouth trophallaxis.
But I smiled, reassured by her resolve.
“There’s no rule that says it has to go into the mouth.”
“...Huh?”
I mean, come on—who said the only hole was the mouth?
People drink yogurt and milk from the bottom of the pouch sometimes too, don’t they?
There are... other orifices. And frankly? Sometimes those offer a very special experience.
