Former Ranker's Newbie Life-Chapter 21

The crimson chitinous shells gleamed ominously in the light. Even at a glance, their numbers easily exceeded a hundred, maybe more. The only saving grace was that Gulak Village’s entrance was bottlenecked by the northern canyon. If these bastards could pour in from all sides, the village would already be a smoldering ruin.

The village being perched on a towering peak was a stroke of luck, but just having a single entry point wasn’t enough. To handle a relentless swarm of ants on his own, Do-Jin needed more than just a bottleneck. He had to limit not only the direction of the attack but also the number and speed of the creatures flooding in at any given time.

That was where the villagers’ hard work came in. They had stacked an enormous pile of flammables at the canyon’s exit, cobbled together from everything they could scavenge.

“Mr. Mage! Look! Those damn ants are coming up!”

A villager’s shout rang out, sending the others who were still working outside scrambling back behind the palisade in a full-blown panic.

Do-Jin kept a sharp eye on the ants through his Night Vision spell as he waited. Just as the swarm began to emerge from the canyon, he set the massive pile of wood ablaze. Fueled by his mana, the flames roared to life, leaping onto the oil-soaked wood and devouring it in seconds. The fire surged outward, creating a blazing barrier.

As they crawled out of the canyon, the narrowing path created by the flames funneled them into a tight line. Instinctively, they clustered toward the center, creating what Do-Jin could only describe as a “bug traffic jam.”

I wasn’t sure this would work... but thankfully, they’re sticking to their instincts.

He’d been prepared for the worst, but if the ants had ignored the fire and scattered, his plan would’ve gone up in smoke. That said, a regular fire alone wouldn’t stop Gulak Ants. It might incinerate weaklings like Kobalts, but these Level 29 monsters could endure a bit of fire and still keep going.

That was why Do-Jin had ordered the villagers to pile up flammable debris on either side of the canyon’s entrance. By creating a fire-walled path, he was forcing the ants to funnel into a single, controlled opening, a perfect setup for his magic.

“Mr. Mage! They’re squeezing through the middle!” A shout came from one of the northern watchtowers.

Do-Jin didn’t bother with a verbal response. Instead, he hurled a ball of fire that tore through the air like a blazing comet.

[Fireball]

Unlike single-target spells like Arrow, the Fireball spell packed more raw firepower and explosive impact. Do-Jin had picked it up specifically for dealing with these flame-vulnerable bastards from the wastelands. It was a Tier 2 spell that was perfect for killing as many ants as possible in one go.

BOOM!

The explosion engulfed three ants trying to squeeze through the narrow gap between the burning woodpiles, roasting them on the spot. Between the Grimoire of Truth he had equipped and the ridiculous attack buff from his Suspicious Ritual Blade, Do-Jin’s fireball was more than enough to incinerate them outright.

Gulak Ants were dangerous not because they were individually strong but because of their numbers. Fighting them one-on-one wasn’t a nightmare, but when they came in droves, they became a living hell.

However, with the right setup using area-of-effect spells, an almost impossible task became a goldmine of experience. It was a sweet, hidden jackpot for leveling up, as long as one could handle the pressure.

Would you look at that... These tiny little bundles of EXP are marching straight into my lap.

Do-Jin smirked. He didn’t know whose twisted scheme had set this in motion, but from his perspective, it might as well have been a farming event. The only catch was if he screwed up even once, it wouldn’t be just the event that ended but his own life.

Alright. Let’s see who drops first, me or those bugs.

He cast another Fireball, this time aiming a bit farther back in the swarm. Five ants went up in flames, incinerated instantly. Their numbers worked against them since they were so tightly packed, even the relatively small explosion radius was enough to take them out.

The blazing inferno, coupled with the repeated detonations of Do-Jin’s fire magic and the acrid stench of their burning kin, seemed to drive the ants into a frenzy. Their jaws clicked furiously as they surged forward with renewed aggression. Yet, their primitive instincts still urged them to avoid the fire, funneling them straight toward the only gap Do-Jin had left open.

Too bad they couldn’t tell the difference between a safe exit and a death trap. These brainless lower-tier insect monsters couldn’t comprehend that their so-called salvation was actually a fiery grave. Do-Jin capitalized on their ignorance, raining down magical fire without mercy.

“That’s... incredible,” a man in the opposite watchtower muttered, almost in a trance.

His eyes darted back and forth between Do-Jin and the fireballs erupting from his hands. Each explosion left him slack-jawed, whispering a half-stunned, half-reverent gasp.

“What’s going on out there?”

The villagers gathered below, still sweating from hauling whatever scraps they could burn, shouted up to him. Wisps of steam rose from their clothes in the chilly air, a testament to their frantic labor.

The man on the tower looked down at them, his voice shaky. “I-I think we’re going to make it.”

“Stop mumbling and speak up!”

“I SAID WE’RE GONNA MAKE IT, YOU IDIOTS!” he shouted, his voice cracking with emotion.

The villagers below exchanged glances, relief spreading across their faces.

“Look at that! With someone like him throwing fireballs like they’re nothing, what the hell do we have to worry about from a bunch of overgrown bugs?”

Whether it was from exhilaration or sheer desperation to push away their fear, the villagers erupted into cheers, their voices rising in celebration of the fiery onslaught. Contrary to that, Do-Jin felt like he was knocking on death’s door.

Damn it, this is driving me insane, he thought bitterly.

He tipped his head back and downed his second mana potion of the fight. Normally, unless one were using some kind of high-grade potion, these things were meant to be followed up with rest to allow proper recovery, but that wasn’t exactly an option right now. As a result, the potion’s effectiveness was pitiful and barely a quarter of what it should’ve been.

“If I find out who’s behind this, I swear I’m gonna kill them,” Do-Jin muttered through gritted teeth.

As soon as the slight relief from mana exhaustion kicked in, he shook his head, trying to shake off the dizziness, and prepared another spell.

[Creeping Flame]

This time, it wasn’t Fireball, but a Tier 3 spell. Instead of a concentrated explosion, Creeping Flame unleashed serpentine tendrils of fire that slithered along the ground, devouring everything in their path.

Flames coiled and writhed like fiery snakes, consuming the ants as they scattered in chaos. High-pitched, unnerving screeches filled the air as their insectoid bodies flailed in a desperate attempt to escape. Some of the ants began trying to climb over the burning piles of wood, opting for the lesser of two evils.

“Oh, hell no!”

Do-Jin wasted no time, firing off an overpowered fireball. The pile of wood exploded into fiery shards, instantly roasting the ants trying to cross it. But the blast also blew a gaping hole in that section of the barricade. The ridiculous firepower that made quick work of the ants had now come back to bite him.

“How much shit do we still have to burn?!” Do-Jin barked, swiveling to check with the villagers.

Several men waved frantically, their voices hoarse. “We’ve got a ton over here, Mr. Mage!”

Do-Jin glanced at the desperate hodgepodge of scraps they’d thrown together. The villagers were smashing apart and piling on chunks of rooftops, splintered doors, and broken carts. The sheer chaos of it all reflected their desperate will to live.

They’re fighting like hell to survive, so I’ll make damn sure they do.

Grinding his teeth, Do-Jin pushed his circuits into overdrive. The Grimoire of Truth radiated a golden glow, and his Magic Circuits blazed in unison. The debris began to rise, floating into the air like puppets on strings.

“Oh my god...” someone murmured in awe.

Do-Jin didn’t hesitate. With every ounce of strength he could muster, he hurled the debris forward. The repeated casting of Psychokinesis drained what little mana he’d managed to recover, like water spilling through a sieve.

Crack!

The thrown objects lost momentum midair, scattering over the flaming wreckage in a broad arc, like a shotgun blast raining from above. Do-Jin repeated the action over and over until the barricade was once again ablaze with roaring flames.

“Ugh.”

The toll on his body became painfully clear as blood dripped from his nose. Without missing a beat, he downed his third mana potion. The potion, which should’ve been sweet, now tasted like syrup laced with bile. Clearly, it was a warning sign that he was nearing potion overdose. If he kept chugging them like this, the recovery effects would plummet to near uselessness after ten bottles, tops.

I’ll be lucky to survive past bottle number ten.

Do-Jin wiped the blood from his nose and turned back to the field. His eyes scanned the battlefield, trying to get a sense of how many ants were left.

The scene made his stomach churn. Piles of charred ant corpses smoldered, but the ones that survived didn’t care. They clambered over the dead, mindlessly advancing.

Still, it looked like they’d cut the swarm’s numbers in half, at least. Do-Jin clung to that faint sliver of hope and raised his hand for another spell when a sinister rumble rolled through the air. He hadn’t cast it yet, and it wasn’t coming from the ants or even the mountain. No, it came from above.

“Don’t fucking tell me...”

Do-Jin, along with every other villager, turned their gaze to the sky.

“Fuck me,” he cursed under his breath, running a hand through his now-soaked hair.

The relentless downpour quickly turned into an unforgiving torrent. The sight ahead was a nightmare. The flames, his best and only defense, were struggling to survive against the rain. With unrelenting jaws, the ants tore into the charred debris, breaking and ripping apart the remnants of the barriers. The flames that had been holding them back were all but gone.

“Everyone, run! Find somewhere to hide!”

The villagers, who had been anxiously watching Do-Jin since the rain began, now wore expressions of pure despair. Whatever hope they’d clung to evaporated in an instant. The villagers were in chaos, shouting over one another in panic.

“We’re screwed! It’s over!”

“Damn it, we should’ve just run! Now we’re trapped here with those things blocking the canyon!”

“If we’re gonna die, we should at least fight! We have to save the kids, no matter what!”

Suddenly, Do-Jin shouted, “Get the hell away from me, now!”

“Huh?!” exclaimed one of the villagers as all the attention snapped back to him.

Their eyes locked onto Do-Jin with his rain-soaked robe billowing as golden mana crackled and coiled around his hands. He wasn’t about to back down, not yet.

“Everyone, run! Get out of here and hide wherever you can! Staying here will only get in his way!” Hanolz shouted, his voice hoarse with urgency.

Seeing Do-Jin still fighting gave Hanolz a second wind. He shoved the nearest villagers, forcing them to move. For those too panicked to listen, he resorted to punches and kicks to get them running.

“Hanolz is right! If we stick around, we’ll just be dead weight. Let’s make ourselves useful by staying out of his way!” Even the village elder’s grim words added weight to the command, and the villagers scattered, dashing for their homes and underground shelters.

Hanolz ran too, tears streaming down his face as he raced toward his house. Fear, despair, guilt all mixed together, spilling out in sobs as a thunderous explosion rang out behind him.

It was Do-Jin’s magic.

***

There was no point in holding back mana now. If there was ever a moment to go all out, it was now. Every ant he took down now was one less to deal with later. He had to thin their numbers while he still had the upper hand, or the cleanup fight would be a nightmare.

[Earth Spear]

The ground buckled and erupted as jagged stone spikes shot up, summoned by the Tier 3 spell. Normally, the spell would produce one massive, pointed rock, but Do-Jin had tweaked it, splitting the energy into multiple smaller spikes. As a result, five ants barreling through the ruins of the barricade were skewered in one go.

“Ugh!”

Do-Jin staggered, his chest heaving. This was one of the most advanced spells he could use, and he’d cranked its output as high as it would go while modifying it on the fly. The mana cost was brutal, so much so that his heart felt like it was going to burst.

Shaking, he reached for his fourth mana potion and chugged it down. His hands were trembling so badly that half the liquid dribbled down his chin and neck, mixing with the rain. At this point, he couldn’t even tell if it was potion or rainwater running down his throat. At least his blurred vision began to clear as a sliver of mana trickled back into his circuits.

“Damn, these things are fast,” Do-Jin muttered with a bitter smile.

The sight before him wasn’t pretty. The Gulak Ants had already reached the village walls, their spindly legs scrambling up the palisade. The sound of their mandibles and claws hammering against the wood was enough to set his teeth on edge. It was aggravating, like nails on a chalkboard but worse.

“Like hell I’m letting you climb that easily,” Do-Jin mumbled as he clenched his fist, forcing the last dregs of his restored mana into another spell.

[Splitting Lightning]

The rain-drenched ants made perfect lightning rods. As the electricity arced and crackled through the tightly packed swarm, dozens of ants convulsed violently before dropping dead.

“Thank fuck I spent the gold on this spell...”

But the victory came at a cost. Whatever little mana he’d scraped together was completely drained again. The dizziness hit him hard, his vision spinning as his body screamed for rest.

I’m going to pass out if I keep this up.

However, Do-Jin ignored it as he climbed down the watchtower and stumbled into the village below. The heavy rain hammered down, soaking everything, but he wasn’t fazed. When the game changes, it’s all about rolling with the punches. The storm and the darkness were a blessing in disguise, a perfect cover to mask his movements.

Alright. Time to flip the script.

The hunt wasn’t over; it was just starting. Hidden by the rain and shadows, Do-Jin steeled himself for a quieter, deadlier game. The ants wouldn’t know what hit them.