Clay looked closer,,, no, it's not a tree.

"An insect–"

"Monsters! Giant ants!" cries erupted from the front and back of the group. "We've been surrounded. Save us, hunters!"

"Stay calm!" the hunters shouted, "We have twenty-eight hunters in this expedition. Stick together, and nothing could go wrong!"

Suddenly, there were screams and shouts on the left flank, and essence extractors began sprinting out of the dense foliage. "A large swarm of ants appeared! Sir Dunbar has been overwhelmed!"

"What?" Clay's heart dropped.

An essence extractor was running towards the "tree". "Look out–"

Miss Barlow blocked the ant's pincer just in time. Swish! Slash! And with a swift motion, she cut through it's exoskeleton, finishing it off. Clay rushed to the collapsed carcass and quickly extracted its heart, his hands trembling.

"Tell me the situation at Sir Dunbar's flank!" she called.

"Currently the eight other hunters are fending off the swarm the best as they could, but they've told us to run. There are too many, even for them. They'll buy us time to escape. We need to go now!"

"Any news from Captain Colt or Sir Hollis?"

"Not yet!"

"What do we do now?" an essence extractor whimpered.

"We will follow the main group. We need to stick together with the rest and maintain our formation." Miss Barlow replied.

Ants. One may say they are a hunter's dream and nightmare all in one. Individually, they are relatively small–around the size of a full-grown human–and easy for hunters to kill. Their hearts are small, yet the essence within are just as potent as the hearts of other monsters. 

But a swarm of ants are a differeny story. Together, their power multiplies for some reason–each individual ant becomes stronger if there are ants nearby. Not only that, they could also organise coordinated attacks, working in eerie unison. A hunter could easily be overwhelmed, and if one fall, the essence extractors following become vulnerable. That is why small hunting parties usually consist of seven hunters and fourteen essence extractors, a ratio of 1:2.

But this expedition was different. Essence extractors were more motivated participate, drawn by the promise of higher rewards. With twenty-eight hunters, there were nearly two hundred essence extractors–a staggering ratio of 1:7.

To make up for the shortage of hunters, the hunting group had split into three flanks led by Captain Colt, Sir Dunbar, and Sir Hollis. Each flank contained nine hunters, except the central one, which had ten. The original plan was that if a monster attacked, nearby hunters could close the gap in numbers. 

"That's the captain's horn!" someone shouted.

"Has he found out about Sir Dunbar's situation?"

A messenger burst through the brush from Captain Colt's legion. "The Captain has learned about Sir Dunbar's situation in the left flank. He's secured a defensive position on a piece of land and requests a meeting with the remaining hunters."

Clay sat on a boulder, staring at the makeshift tent the hunters were holding a meeting. The eerie quiet of the forest was oppressive.

"What do you think they are talking about?" he asked.

"Probably some strategies, or deciding on someone to fill Sir Dunbar's shoes." Ross replied.

"Can you believe Sir Dunbar to be defeated so early on in the hunt? It doesn't make any sense!"

"Agreed. But I know ants are a nightmare to deal with. I just hope we don't have any other issues on this hunt. After all, we're supposed to be hitting it big in this trip!"

Miss Barlow returned, grasping a small object in her hand. "Captain Colt said the expedition might be more difficult than anticipated; he suspects an ant colony nearby. We've all been given whistles. If we see anything dangerous or suspicious, we hunters will blow them to warn the entire party."

The party continued deeper into the wild. There were many monsters along the way. Clay, Ross, and the rest of the essence collectors had their bags filled with monster hearts. Their hunt was going well.

As they travelled up a mountain, Clay felt a chill run down his spine. The forest grew darker, more foreboding. There was a shuffle in the bushes right in front of of Clay, startling him. "Look out, there's a monster here!"

"Same here!" came shouts from around him.

Clay scanned his surroundings, heart pounding as dozens of legs emerged from the trees. From the underbrush, hundreds of heads moved about towards them.

Tweeeet! Miss Barlow blew her whistle, the sharp sound echoing across the mountains.

Tweeeet! Tweeeet! Other hunters echoed her call, tension rising in the air. 

"What do we do now?" Clay asked frantically.

One by one, the giant ants revealed themselves–hundreds, no, thousands of them, surging forward with terrifying coordination. From afar, it felt as if the entire forest was shifting on the earth.

"Retreat! I'll hold them back for now!" Miss Barlow yelled as she rushed towards the swarm of monsters.

Suddenly, a massive ant, massive, much larger than the rest, burst through the thicket. It's pincers gleamed menacingly, a grotesque parody of strength.

"What is that thing?!" Clay screamed.

"Run, Clay!" Ross shouted, shoving Clay away just as the enormous ant lunged, narrowly missing him.

"Mr Ross!" Clay cried, panic rising as he looked back. Ross had already been caught by it's pincer, his leg turning green and purple. 

"Get to the main camp, get to Captain Colt!" Ross shouted as he broke free from its pincers. "Find safety!" 

But the monster was relentless, biting on Ross once more. 

"Listen to me! You're the future of this kingdom," Ross urged, wheezing from exhaustion. "You can't let this be the end! I'm an old man–this is my fight, not yours. You need to get to safety! Don't look back!"

"Mr Ross! Mr Ross!" he shouted, but the forest swallowed his cries. Panic clawed at him as he raced forward, desperate to escape the horrors behind him. 

The weight of losing Ross pressed heavily on his heart, but instinct kicked in, urging him to survive–not just for himself, but for Ross, who had sacrificed so much.

After what felt like an eternity, Clay stumbled into a clearing, breathless and disoriented. The cries of battle had faded into silence, leaving only the sound of his ragged breathing and his heavy footsteps.

He was alone in the wild, lost.