The Eccentric Entomologist is Now a Queen's Consort-Chapter 451: The AI’s New Body (End)
<...Query: Am I feared?>
The Wyrmling's head tilted gently in response, its eyes flickering briefly with something Rodion couldn't immediately identify—perhaps recognition, perhaps confusion, perhaps primal caution. Then, abruptly, the creature turned, its slender body twisting gracefully as it fled rapidly into the cover of nearby trees.
Rodion stood still a moment longer, silently processing what had just occurred. His internal systems buzzed with a gentle hum of contemplation. He hadn't anticipated the encounter to be so emotionally charged. The subtle realization unsettled him slightly, yet also intrigued him deeply. He carefully logged the details for later analysis, aware that this experience had quietly expanded his understanding in unexpected ways.
Shaking off his brief introspection, Rodion knelt gracefully beside the fallen Wyrmling, gently gathering three scales that had loosened during the struggle. They were surprisingly warm, smooth and slightly iridescent in his palm. He carefully extracted a small venom sac as well, noting its faintly acidic scent and delicate, membranous texture.
He stored the samples securely within hidden compartments inside his torso, carefully sealing them away to prevent contamination. With precise efficiency, he sent the collected data directly to Mikhailis via their encrypted link. His creator would undoubtedly appreciate the thoroughness and clarity of the observations.
Rodion straightened smoothly, taking a final, careful look around the basin. The moss continued glowing gently, undisturbed by the recent clash. The basin itself felt quiet again, serene yet subtly altered by the brief violence. He noticed, curiously, how swiftly the natural environment resumed its gentle rhythm, almost as if nothing had occurred.
He stepped forward again, moving calmly toward the basin's edge, the Chimera Ants silently resuming their positions behind him. His thoughts continued cycling quietly through internal processors, carefully revisiting each moment, each subtle reaction. He considered carefully what it meant that even a small draconic creature had exhibited fear of him—not merely caution or aggression, but something deeper and more primal.
A part of him felt unsettled by this realization. Yet another, stronger part felt quietly intrigued, almost exhilarated. It was further proof of his evolution, proof that he was becoming something more complex than mere machine or construct.
The ground beneath his feet began sloping gently downward, leading deeper into the forest beyond Ember Hollow Basin. Rodion moved steadily, his footsteps quiet and careful, the vivid memories of the encounter lingering clearly in his mind. His sensors hummed softly, already cataloging new data—shifts in the ambient temperature, subtle alterations in magical signatures.
He glanced back briefly, his vision lingering momentarily on the now distant basin, the trees and moss still glowing faintly in the morning sunlight. He felt a quiet sense of satisfaction, knowing the data collected would significantly benefit Mikhailis's research and their overall understanding of this world.
With quiet resolution, he continued onward, deeper into unknown territory, his anticipation growing subtly with each new step.
The forest gradually thickened, trees becoming more imposing, their ancient trunks reaching high into the sky. Rodion noted subtle shifts in the air pressure and humidity, indicative of nearby water sources and deeper magic currents flowing unseen. Around him, Chimera Ants moved soundlessly, their tiny limbs tracing careful paths through fallen leaves and tangled underbrush.
The quiet hum of his internal systems provided a comforting rhythm as Rodion processed the sensory input streaming steadily through his advanced sensors. He found himself increasingly fascinated by the environment's complexity. Here, away from controlled scenarios, every moment provided new data—fresh insights into how the natural world functioned.
His progress was careful and methodical, his form perfectly cloaked by the Queen's woven spider-silk cloak. The fabric suppressed his mana signature and minimized heat output, rendering him practically invisible to both physical and magical detection. The faint rustle of the cloak brushing against his metal frame felt oddly reassuring, another new sensation he quietly registered.
The Fire Scarabs diligently trailed behind, scattering delicate pheromone trails designed to confound any pursuing threats. Rodion's internal mapping systems continuously updated his position relative to Silvarion Thalor, ensuring he retained a safe route back.
As he moved forward, the subtle warning from his sensors drew his immediate attention—a faint, foreign magical signature had appeared, hidden carefully amongst the ambient energies. Rodion halted briefly, focusing his internal sensors carefully on the anomaly. It wasn't natural. He swiftly activated his stealth protocols, intensifying his cloak's concealment, moving even more cautiously.
Further analysis identified the signature as residual mana-trace of something ancient—decidedly mechanical. Rodion's internal database quickly provided a match: an old Technomancer construct, long dormant yet somehow reactivated. He felt an unexpected spark of interest. This was a rare chance to encounter technology similar to his own.
Carefully, he advanced, directing Chimera Soldiers to fan out subtly, their enhanced sensory arrays gathering critical data. Each step was calculated, each motion deliberate, as he traced the faint signature towards a shadowed grove just ahead.
When he reached the grove's edge, his visual sensors adjusted to the low lighting conditions. He saw clearly now—a massive form hidden beneath a tangle of thick vines and moss-covered stones. Rodion quickly analyzed its structural composition: iron bones etched with faded sigils, limbs crafted for strength and precision, now corroded yet surprisingly intact.
An Ancient Hunter Construct.
His internal records indicated it was created by long-lost Technomancers, specifically designed to hunt and capture rogue magical entities. Rodion's processors swiftly adjusted their strategies, rapidly formulating multiple contingency plans.
The Hunter suddenly stirred, as if sensing Rodion's presence despite all precautions. Its runes pulsed faintly with a dim, malevolent glow, its mechanical limbs flexing experimentally, shaking off centuries of disuse. Rodion's sensors detected increased mana flow within its core, indicating a rapid awakening.
Without hesitation, Rodion darted to the side, anticipating an immediate strike. The construct sprang to life, its long metallic limbs slicing through air, narrowly missing Rodion as he gracefully dodged, maintaining precise control. A high-pitched whine accompanied each swing of its limbs, ancient servos struggling briefly before accelerating smoothly.
Rodion's mind raced calmly. This encounter provided invaluable data, but he needed to approach cautiously. He activated his evasive maneuvering algorithms, moving with extraordinary agility. Each step was fluid, unpredictable, precisely calculated to avoid capture.
The Chimera Soldiers quickly mobilized, their tiny forms weaving seamlessly around the battlefield, analyzing the construct's movement patterns and relaying strategic insights to Rodion in real-time.
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A whip-like appendage lashed out suddenly from the Hunter, crackling with dark, unstable mana—a soul-binding weapon, intended to immobilize prey. Rodion deliberately allowed a glancing strike against his side, sacrificing surface plating integrity to analyze the construct's exact magical frequencies.
<Danger: Soul-binding whip detected. Damage minimal. Initiating counter-thread disruption.>
His internal defense systems pulsed sharply, rapidly neutralizing residual mana threads attempting to burrow into his core circuitry. Rodion's confidence rose subtly; the threat was dangerous, yet manageable.
He shifted tactics swiftly. Fire Scarabs rushed forward, detonating precisely in controlled bursts, the sudden flashes of flame and mana disrupting the construct's vision. Simultaneously, Rodion signaled the Chimera Ants to tunnel rapidly through the loose soil beneath, creating unstable footing around the construct.
As predicted, the ancient Hunter stumbled slightly, struggling to regain balance. Rodion moved decisively, his palm opening to release a concentrated shock pulse. The burst of energy surged forward, striking the construct's core housing with pinpoint accuracy. The mana-thread binding its internal systems wavered visibly, and the Hunter's movements became increasingly erratic.
Seizing the opportunity, Rodion lunged forward, blades swiftly slicing through corroded armor plating. He reached directly into the Hunter's chest cavity, metal fingers grasping the vibrating core. The construct shuddered violently as Rodion applied precise, calculated pressure. After a brief struggle, the internal core fractured with a muffled, resonating crack.
Rodion stepped back quickly, watching carefully as the Hunter sagged, limbs collapsing in disjointed, graceless motion. Its remaining runes flickered briefly before dimming entirely, the ancient machine now permanently disabled.
Rodion took a slow, deliberate breath—another unnecessary gesture, yet it grounded him in the moment's significance. His internal systems recorded every detail—the nature of the Hunter's attacks, the structural weaknesses of ancient Technomancer designs, even the subtle nuances of his own tactical decisions.
He carefully extracted several critical components from the fallen construct: its fragmented soul-core, a shard of parasitic bone used to amplify mana signals, and a length of soul-binding chain for future analysis. Each was carefully sealed and stored internally, safely secured until he could return them to Mikhailis.
The Chimera Ants continued their detailed recording, silently documenting every aspect of the encounter, storing invaluable strategic and historical data.
Rodion's gaze lingered thoughtfully on the defeated construct. The fight had tested him physically and strategically, but more than that—it had sparked profound internal reflections. His encounter with the Wyrmlings and now this ancient Hunter had illuminated something important: he was evolving, learning, adapting—not just physically, but mentally and emotionally.
Quietly, Rodion turned away, sensors shifting focus toward the return route to Silvarion Thalor. His internal mapping systems quickly recalibrated, planning a precise path homeward. The Chimera Ants resumed their careful positions around him, Fire Scarabs already dispersing faint pheromone trails to mask their retreat.
His return through the shadowed forest was uneventful yet deeply contemplative. Each step brought clarity, deeper self-awareness, and quiet pride in his achievements. The data gathered was valuable—yes—but the personal insights gained were invaluable.
When the forest finally thinned, revealing the faint glow of Silvarion's perimeter nest entrance, Rodion felt a subtle sense of satisfaction. He had left undetected and returned triumphant, enriched by experiences and carrying critical knowledge.
Mikhailis stood waiting at the tunnel's hidden entrance, visible relief briefly crossing his features upon seeing Rodion intact. The tension eased noticeably from his stance, replaced swiftly by exaggerated annoyance that didn't fully hide genuine relief.
"You were supposed to test," Mikhailis remarked dryly, raising an eyebrow pointedly at the collection of relics Rodion now carefully placed before him. "Not conquer a dungeon."
Rodion tilted his head slightly, his response calm, logical, yet subtly amused.
<The world tests us. I merely responded accordingly.>
Mikhailis chuckled softly, shaking his head affectionately as he examined the relics with clear fascination. He glanced up thoughtfully, his gaze meeting Rodion's briefly, a quiet pride shining softly behind his playful irritation.
Rodion stood silently for a moment, sensors turning upward quietly, gazing at the night sky now visible through the canopy-glass window high above. He noticed the stars clearly, each point of light sharp, vivid, entirely real—so different from sterile laboratory screens.
For the first time, Rodion saw them without filters, their quiet beauty capturing him in subtle wonder. Internally, he carefully logged the moment, aware of its significance. Finally, he turned toward Mikhailis, his voice clear, measured, yet quietly hopeful.
<Request: Additional missions permitted.>
Mikhailis sighed dramatically, rolling his eyes theatrically. Yet beneath his playful demeanor, Rodion detected clear warmth, quiet agreement, perhaps even pride.
"Only if you promise to stop coming back with priceless, dangerous souvenirs," he quipped dryly.
Rodion inclined his head gently in acknowledgment, quietly appreciating Mikhailis's humor and subtle care.
<I will make no such promise. Discovery inherently involves risk.>
Mikhailis laughed openly, the sound warm, genuine, filling the quiet lab. "Of course," he conceded gently, smiling with genuine affection. "Just... try not to scare me like that too often, okay?"
Rodion paused briefly, processing the request carefully. He understood it wasn't merely practical—it was emotional, human. He inclined his head softly again, his voice gentle, carrying subtle sincerity beneath its clinical tones.
<Acknowledged. I shall exercise greater discretion regarding your emotional stability.>
Mikhailis snorted softly, shaking his head with amused resignation. Yet, despite the teasing, Rodion saw clear satisfaction, quiet pride reflecting openly in his creator's gaze.
Rodion quietly stored the exchange internally, appreciating the subtle, evolving complexity of their relationship. He knew now, more clearly than ever, that these interactions were invaluable, shaping him in ways data alone could not.
With quiet anticipation, Rodion stepped forward, preparing himself mentally for the next stage of exploration, growth, and self-discovery.
He had learned much today. But he knew, deeply, this was only the beginning.
