Mira came running, breath puffing in small clouds, braid whipping behind her. She skidded to a stop in front of Lucius, knees trembling a little from the sprint.
"You… called?"
She asked, voice higher than usual.
Lucius didn't smile. He pointed toward the fields where the stalks writhed and black shapes crawled like a dark tide.
"Look at them."
She followed his gaze. Her face drained. Up close, the insects were worse—thicker bodies than any common beetle, a faint inner glow of mana visible under their carapace.
One lifted its mandibles and clicked them like a tiny blade. Mira took an involuntary step back, shivering.
"We need you to tame them."
Lucius said flatly.
Mira blinked.
"Tame… bugs?"
The word came out like a joke and died halfway through.
"You're joking, right? You want me to—"
"I'm not joking."
He watched her closely, slow and steady.
