Chapter 66: Like Ants.

None of the Squires he saw in the morning could be seen in the area, but he sensed many people in the jail cells. Based on this, he understood what stage Tessa had reached in her work.

The light of the flame brushed across the large cloud above her head, impressing it with his will. As his mental influence took hold, her thoughts were laid bare before him.

“How much progress have you made?” he asked her.

She bowed her head and fell to her knees as she said, “The transformation has finished. I have now quarantined the survivors to see if they will maintain sanity for the next 24 hours, Lord Bane.”

“Hmmmm. What was the survival rate?” he asked, as his eyes roamed through the cell, examining the minds of the occupants.

Even though a wall separated him from the occupants, he could still see the cloud above their heads. So he could still read their minds and check their mental state.

In response to his question, Tessa said, “24 survived the initial transformation.”

“24 out of 53. That’s not bad at all,” he thought, smiling in satisfaction.

So 29 Squires had died because of his plan. And this was only the early stages of the plan. So there were more deaths to come. But the death and potential deaths of so many people didn’t move him at all.

He wasn’t exactly callous. He just didn’t see them as anything worthy of emotional concern.

An Apostle was no longer human and could view humans as food. It didn’t matter how they became Apostles, but no Apostle was still a part of the human species. The best proof is that mortals and Apostles can’t reproduce together.

Likewise, as a Tyrant, he was a step above Apostles and saw them as tools to be used. Because of this, the gap between him and normal humans was too wide.

He couldn’t empathize with humans and other mortal species as they were too beneath him. At most, they were livestock he cared about. But when it was time to kill the livestock for meat, he wouldn’t hesitate.

“You’re doing a good job, Tessa,” he said, his voice full of satisfaction.

In response, she said respectfully, “Thank you, my lord.”

By now, the other Small Bosses had noticed that something was going on. They didn’t know if Lord Bane was present, but since Tessa was kneeling, there was no harm in following her lead.

The two of them immediately bowed and knelt on one knee. Tessa saw this and ignored them. Even though they didn’t know whether Lord Bane was present, she didn’t blame them for compromising their job of protecting the jail to show respect.

She couldn’t blame them because she too wasn’t sure if the person talking in her head was her superior. But she thought that it didn’t matter whether it was Lord Bane or not. What mattered was whether this person was a Tyrant or not.

Based on what she knew, a person who could speak directly into her mind had to be a Tyrant. And based on her experience, if a Tyrant asked you to do anything, you had to do it.

So even though this person might not be Lord Bane, she still didn’t hesitate to answer all the questions and expose the operation’s details to the Tyrant.

She was sure that stubbornness wouldn’t do any good, anyway. Tyrants had ways of getting the information they wanted out of a person, so rather than angering them, she was willing to voluntarily spill every secret she knew.

She thought about this, and even though it was for a fleeting moment, it didn’t escape Lord Bane. But the Tyrant didn’t care that she intended to tell every Tyrant who asked her for information everything they needed to know.

To get angry that she couldn’t keep his matter a secret would be like getting angry at a cow for regurgitating its food or furious that a mentally handicapped human was stupid. It was an endeavor in futility.

This was another reason he couldn’t take Drones seriously. If he couldn’t trust Apostles to keep their thoughts to themselves, what grand expectations or value could he assign to Drones?

Of course, Drones had value to him. But their value wasn’t enough to respect them.

Right now, he was already working out the value of these soon-to-be Apostles, thinking, “If 20 survive from this batch, plus the 33 I have now, I’ll have a total of 53. As long as I have 50, the plan can begin.”

“I should also create more Rank 2 Apostles. With three more Rank 2 Apostles, I will have 10. Then I can split them into 5 groups.”

As he was thinking, he spotted a pigeon fly over. The pigeon settled on the roof of the jail, revealing glowing eyes.

The Apostles didn’t see the pigeon, but he saw it. He also saw that the pigeon had a mind larger than usual, and there was a ball of fire burning in a cloud above its head.

The sight of the pigeon displeased him greatly, and he snorted in displeasure as he thought, ‘Stop flaunting your power already. And stop nosing about my business.’

Even though he was immensely displeased, he didn’t tell the pigeon to leave. Even though the pigeon was a worm, and the person controlling it was a weakling, he wouldn’t dare tell off an Inspector of Lord Bane Byron, the Lord and controller of this Principality.

With his mind made up, he said to Tessa, “You may stand.”

As she stood and straightened, he instructed her, “When you’re done here, tell the six Small Bosses with the highest contribution points to prepare the Rank 2 titan worm and get ready for evolution.”

“I will, my Lord,” she said, bowing.

He ignored her and said to the pigeon, “As you can see, everything is going well.”

“I won’t be so quick to judge,” the pigeon said, disregarding his opinion.

“This is only the start, and from what I’ve seen so far, you will pay a price for this eventually. Your flesh titans are nearing their limit.”

“In just a day, they’ve fought twice, once with each other and another with other titans. It is only a matter of time before they take out their aggression on a human.”

Lord Bane didn’t deny that possibility. Instead, he said, “When it happens, I will make sure it is manageable. As long as they don’t lose control and go on a rampage through the town, everything will be fine.”

“We shall see,” the pigeon said, as it inspected the jail cells, checking the minds of the occupants.

When it was done, it said again, “We shall see.”

Then it took off into the air.

It didn’t leave the compound, though. It went around meeting people in Order and asking for their opinions about what their Tyrant was up to.

Seeing this, Lord Bane ground his molars and his four eyes flared with anger. But he didn’t interfere and only snorted in displeasure.

Then he marched away. He went toward the main building, intending to get some work done in his laboratory.

Meanwhile, Loki was eating lunch in the mess hall. It would be his last meal of the day, as the Order would feed him only twice.

Usually, one sheep was enough to last him throughout the day. The extra was to help him grow stronger faster and prevent him from getting too hungry.

Only in special circumstances would he be fed three times. Of course, if he had money, he could buy more food to eat. Unfortunately, he didn’t have that luxury.

As he ate, he considered a way to earn money without taking missions. It didn’t take him much effort to come up with an idea.

‘I could partner with a local blacksmith to make guns. With their level of technology, the guns would be useless to titans. But it would strengthen Squires and other Drones,’ he thought as he funneled warm and fresh flesh down his throat.

Actually, he had this idea a long time ago. Unfortunately, he wasn’t in a position to partner with anyone.

A Drone was at the bottom of the food chain, barely above Slaves who had no rights. They could easily become Slaves if the Lord of the principality, who declared the rights of Drones, rescinded his command or fell from power.

But among Drones, he was the low of the low. Every good job in the city at the center of the principality, or in the towns at the edge of the principality, had been taken and monopolized long before he arrived at the Obsidian Maw.

It didn’t help that he couldn’t read or write and could barely speak their language. So the only job he could do was working in mines, either digging up coal or metal ores.

He couldn’t even afford to live alone and had to share a room with 11 other people. With his status, he didn’t dare to bring a lucrative idea to a blacksmith.