For a few moments, Alice and I just stood still, watching the flies. There was something hypnotic about that swarm, but the truth was, I didn’t feel like there was much else to do besides that. Moving forward would’ve been the same as diving headfirst into a sea of living acid—the spitting creatures were only waiting for the slightest mistake to melt us down in seconds.

What unsettled me even more was the fact that, despite being so close, they weren’t attacking. That abnormal stillness didn’t feel like luck, much less a good omen. After all, it wasn’t that those creatures couldn’t attack—it was that they didn’t want to. At least, not yet. They were simply waiting for the right moment, letting their swarm grow stronger before unleashing a chain assault on me and Alice.

Honestly, by that point I was racking my brain: no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t see any truly effective way of wiping them all out without putting myself at risk—or worse, letting Alice get hurt in the process. Behind me, I could tell Alice understood this as well; her eyes locked on the enemy, making it clear she knew exactly how serious the situation was.

“Justin. Noa” Alice’s voice came out firm but low, every syllable carrying a calculated weight. She spoke the names of my two bodies without a hint of hesitation.

From the corner of my eye, I glanced at her: her shoulders were tense, her gaze fixed on the restless swarm in the distance, like omens of something drawing closer. After a brief silence, her voice returned, quieter now, almost broken by doubt: “Be honest with me... we’re screwed, aren’t we?”

I wanted to deny Alice’s words, but it would’ve been pointless. She wasn’t naive—she knew my abilities to a certain extent and understood well enough what I could do. And deep down, I couldn’t lie to myself either: defeating that swarm without pushing myself to the limit was nearly impossible.

I’d have to rely on more than just brute force; some of my abilities would inevitably come into play. So when Alice opened her mouth again, her next words didn’t surprise me at all—it was exactly what I’d already expected.

“I’m stepping in from here” Her voice was steady, filled with conviction. And honestly, I had no reason to argue against her.

“Don’t worry, I won’t act recklessly. From what I can tell, these creatures are just waiting for their entire swarm to gather. I can use that to my advantage... a perfect chance to paralyze them all at once. Maximum efficiency, minimal mana cost. What do you think?” She finished with a faint smile tugging at the corner of her lips, almost as if she already knew what my answer would be.

Truthfully, the idea itself wasn’t unfamiliar to me—in fact, it was exactly what I’d been thinking moments earlier. The problem was, I couldn’t bring myself to say it out loud. Our original plan had been for me to handle the weaker monsters while we saved our mana for the more dangerous threats.

At least, that had been the strategy from the start. But, well... life doesn’t always stick to the script. Sometimes it takes unexpected turns, and all that’s left is improvisation.

After our brief exchange, Alice and I didn’t make another move. As I mentioned before, we stayed frozen at a safe distance, watching every tiny shift, waiting for the inevitable: the moment the putrid eggs began to crack open. It didn’t take long. Within seconds, a fissure here, another there, and soon the air was filled with the revolting sound of shells breaking apart. Thᴇ link to the origɪn of this information rᴇsts ɪn novel~fire~net

Fly after fly burst from the openings, darting into chaotic flight. In mere moments, the space before us was swarming—maybe a hundred, maybe more—an entire mass hovering, their wings buzzing with a thunderous, ceaseless drone that made the very air tremble.

Of course, it wasn’t like I was completely helpless. As the flies kept breaking free one by one, I divided my focus between tracking their movements and reading their levels.

It was hard to keep up with everything at once—after all, we were talking about hundreds of creatures emerging almost in unison—but my [Identify] skill worked tirelessly.

From what I could gather, all of them had very similar, if not identical, levels. That only reinforced the impression that they weren’t just a bunch of random bugs, but a coordinated swarm designed to act as a single threat.

[Corrosive Fly – Level 25]

[Corrosive Fly – Level 24]

[Corrosive Fly – Level 23]

[Corrosive Fly – Level 24]

[Corrosive Fly – Level 23]

[Corrosive Fly – Level 23]

[Corrosive Fly – Level 25]

[Corrosive Fly – Level 24]

Well, I couldn’t say they looked particularly intimidating. At best, they resembled oversized regular insects—nothing that would strike true fear at first glance.

Still, I knew levels worked as indicators—a way to gauge, to some extent, how dangerous a monster was. The problem was, those numbers didn’t tell the whole story: they didn’t reveal how lethal a creature truly was, or the hidden tricks it might keep behind that deceptively harmless appearance.

It wasn’t like I fully understood how the mechanics of abilities worked, but that was the impression I got. After all, if levels just scaled along with us, then why the hell had that monstrous centipede we fought in the sewers shown up with a lower level than these damned flies? The logic simply didn’t add up.

Either way, my train of thought was cut short in the next instant. The flies, which had been hovering motionless at a distance until then, finally seemed to snap out of their strange inertia. Their wings beat with a harsh, grating hum, like tiny blades slicing through the silence, as the swarm began advancing toward us with unsettling synchronicity.

I didn’t need to give Alice any orders. Before I could even open my mouth, she had already raised her hand toward the swarm. In an instant, her fingers clenched tightly, and lightning ripped through the air, striking the creatures one after another in a relentless domino effect.

The crackle of electricity echoed around us, and the flies dropped to the ground in rapid succession, leaving behind nothing but the faint scent of ozone lingering in the air. Honestly, that left me impressed. I couldn’t have said I expected Alice’s skills to have already reached that level, and yet, there it was—proof right before my eyes. On the other hand, it wasn’t as if the flies looked the least bit intimidating.

Quite the opposite: no matter how seriously you tried to look at them, they only gave off a sense of fragility, as if they could be crushed at any moment. But that wasn’t what really worried me right then. From the corner of my female body’s eye, I cast a discreet glance at Alice, who had just finished her spell. The magical aura was still slowly fading around her, like sparks reluctant to vanish.

As far as I could tell, there were no signs of exhaustion in her expression; her breathing remained steady, her eyes sharp. I tilted my head slightly, hesitant, before asking: “Alice, are you okay?”

The moment I asked, Alice slowly turned toward me. A faint smile curved her lips before she answered, calm and confident: “Don’t worry. This didn’t drain nearly as much mana as it looks. I’ll be fully recovered soon enough, so we don’t have to worry for now. Either way, if things get critical, I promise I’ll let you know before that happens”

I nodded at her words, then let my gaze wander around us. Soon it landed on the unsettling scene before us: dozens of flies sprawled across the ground, their twisted, fragile bodies scattered everywhere.

Some still twitched in brief spasms, their wings trembling as if desperately trying to take flight again. Yet every time one managed to lift itself for an instant, another jolt ran through its tiny body, forcing it back onto the cold surface below.

I stared for a moment at the grotesque, warped corpses of the flies before letting out a resigned sigh. Truthfully, I wasn’t the least bit eager to deal with them; just thinking about it made me nauseous. Grasshoppers were one thing—tolerable, to a degree—but flies... their very appearance carried a sticky, almost rancid feel that stirred memories I’d rather not recall.

When I glanced back at Alice, I realized she was looking at the flies with the same mix of disgust and disbelief I felt. There was something almost comforting in that; cruel as the thought might have been, I couldn’t help but feel relieved I wouldn’t be the only one left carrying that trauma.

The next moment, I drew in a deep breath and, forcing down the unease spreading through my body, I walked forward with both of my bodies toward the swarm, as if every step was a test of my own resolve.

Up close, it was even worse. The shapes before us looked more grotesque in detail, and the stench they gave off was so strong my stomach twisted as if I’d swallowed something rotten hours ago. The heavy air clung to my skin, making every breath feel like a challenge.

At my side stood Alice. Her eyes showed caution, but her hands didn’t shake—in one of them, she gripped a small improvised knife, carved entirely out of stone. The blade was the product of our teamwork, a joint effort between me and Ethan.

Alice had looked genuinely happy when she first received it, but now she seemed to be second-guessing that choice... Even so, if she hadn’t had anything at all, I would’ve handed her my own dagger without hesitation.

That thought drifted through my mind almost idly, and while chewing on it in silence, I turned to Alice, watching her for a moment before asking: “By the way, how much time do we have before these things start buzzing in our ears again?”

When my male voice echoed through the space, Alice turned to me. Her eyes blinked rapidly, as if she’d just been pulled back from a daydream, and for an instant she seemed to hesitate, lost in her own thoughts.

Then she answered, her voice unsteady, the uncertainty clear—as if she wasn’t even sure of it herself: “Two minutes... maybe? It really depends on the enemy’s level and strength... well, these flies seem weak, so... two, maybe three minutes at most, I’d say” As she spoke, Alice absentmindedly twirled her little stone knife in the air.

Hearing her words, my first instinct was to let my gaze wander across the fallen flies. The scene itself was both terrifying and grotesque, as if the ground had turned into a living carpet of motionless wings.

The thought of spending the next two minutes stomping out those creatures weighed heavily on me; I let out a sigh, already exhausted just imagining it. Then, remembering something I’d wanted to ask before, I turned back to Alice: “By the way...” I said, steadying my breath: “two minutes will really be enough to kill all these things before they wake up?”

The smile that had lit up Alice’s face vanished as quickly as it came, replaced with a look of clear frustration. Her eyes swept the scene carefully, lingering on the flies still twitching on the ground after being shocked. She let out a heavy sigh and muttered irritably: “Ugh... this is gonna be a pain in the ass, but I’ll paralyze them again right before the time runs out. Just make sure you finish off these damn things as fast as you can”

I only nodded at her words before moving both of my bodies in opposite directions, each targeting a different fly. I crouched in front of them, staring for a moment at those twisted, deformed faces, like some macabre parody of life.

Then, without hesitation, I drove my dagger into their skulls. A dull crack followed, releasing a green, viscous liquid whose rancid stench immediately filled the air, making the scene even more nauseating.