Strongest Hive Lord: Endlessly Evolving My Spawn Hive-Chapter 25: Waves Of Mana

The Union command center...

It was a cavernous chamber carved of steel and reinforced crystal, its ceiling practically lost behind layers of suspended holo-displays.

Massive screens arced along the far wall, each one filled with shifting data, mana density maps, seismic readouts, leyline distortions, threat indices scrolling in muted reds and ambers.

Smaller projections hovered above rows of consoles where analysts and officers worked, fingers moving across light-keys, eyes looking from screen to screen.

At the heart of the room stood a raised command platform.

A female officer in a crisp Union uniform stepped forward, her boots echoing sharply against the polished floor. She held a glowing data-slate close to her chest.

"Commander," she said, stopping a respectful distance away. "We’re detecting gradually increasing waves of monster mana approximately five hundred kilometers outside the city walls."

The commander didn’t turn at first.

He stood with his hands clasped behind his back, staring up at a massive topographical projection of the surrounding territories. His hair was iron-gray, his uniform black and blue, Union insignia polished to a cold sheen.

"Monster activity is normal at that range," he said calmly. "Especially beyond the outer patrol routes."

"Yes, sir," the officer replied immediately. She hesitated just a fraction of a second, then continued. "But not at this density. The readings aren’t spiking. They’re... layering. Overlapping. It’s almost like—"

"—an underground nest of some sort," the commander cut in, finally turning to face her.

The officer nodded. "...Yes, sir."

The commander’s eyes narrowed sharply, calculating, but there was no surprise in them.

He stepped closer to the projection, tapping the map. It shifted, concentric rings of faint violet light pulsing outward from a shaded region far beyond the city’s borders.

"Slow escalation. Controlled output. No surface breaches," he muttered. "That rules out feral swarms."

Several nearby analysts exchanged glances.

The commander straightened. "Issue an alert to the Dragoon Guild," he said. "Investigation priority. Recon first, engagement only if confirmed hostile."

"Yes, sir," the officer said. She turned sharply and moved to relay the order.

As she left, the commander’s gaze lingered on the pulsing mark on the map.

"...Trouble never announces itself loudly anymore," he said quietly.

The guild hall quieted the moment Selvara stepped onto the elevated platform.

Conversations died mid-sentence. Boots shifted.

She did not raise her voice, nor did she need to.

The Branch Master stood with her hands resting lightly atop the pommel of her sheathed sword, black scabbard angled against the floor. Her presence pressed down on the room like a drawn blade hovering just shy of the throat, restrained yet unmistakably lethal.

Her violet eye swept across the assembled recruits.

Riven stood among them, posture relaxed but alert, Arixa close at his side. Around them were other new faces, some nervous, some eager, some masking fear with bravado. Selvara saw all of it.

"Welcome to Argent Fang, Seventh Division," she said.

Her voice carried cleanly through the hall.

"You are here because someone decided you were useful. That does not mean you are safe. It does not mean you are ready. And it certainly does not mean you are equal."

A few recruits swallowed.

Selvara took a step forward.

"This branch does not care about where you came from. We do not care about your previous affiliations, your family names, or the stories you tell about yourself. The only thing that matters here is whether you can survive and whether the people beside you can survive because of you."

Her gaze paused briefly on Riven.

Not long enough to be obvious. Long enough to be intentional.

"Some of you will discover that this work is not what you imagined," she said. "You will learn that monsters are not always loud, not always obvious, and not always inhuman. Some hide. Some think. Some learn."

A faint tension crept through the room.

"When you face them, you will not be allowed the comfort of hesitation. If you doubt yourself, someone dies. If you hesitate, someone dies. If you mistake arrogance for strength—"

She tapped the scabbard lightly against the platform.

"—someone dies."

Silence.

"You are not here to be heroes," she said. "You are here to be effective. You will train. You will listen. You will follow orders. And if you believe you know better than your commander, you will prove it through results—or you will be corrected."

A few veterans standing along the walls exchanged knowing looks.

She straightened slightly.

"Those of you who endure will earn something rare. Trust. The kind that keeps you alive when everything goes wrong."

Her violet eye hardened.

"And make no mistake—everything will go wrong."

A pause.

Then, she spoke quieter but somehow heavier.

"If you survive this branch, you will leave it changed. Decide now whether that is something you want."

Her gaze swept the hall one last time before she turned, cloak shifting softly.

"Welcome to the Seventh Division. Try not to disappoint me."

She stepped down from the platform.

The hall remained silent for a heartbeat longer, then slowly, uneasily, the recruits began to breathe again.

Riven exhaled slowly as the hall began to stir again.

"...That was a bit intense," he murmured.

Arixa glanced at him with a curious expression. "Humans motivate through pressure. This one does it efficiently."

"Efficiently," Riven echoed flatly.

He was just starting to shift his weight, preparing to head to their division for their first mission, when a sharp, unnatural chill slid through his spine.

❖ [Alert: External Awareness Detected]

Riven froze.

The ambient noise of the guild hall dulled. His vision sharpened, focus narrowing inward as the familiar, sterile presence of the Hive System unfolded before his eyes.

❖ [Analysis: Multiple human entities have registered anomalous mana signatures.]

❖ [Source: Peripheral observation vectors.]

❖ [Location Correlation: Hive territory.]

Riven’s jaw tightened imperceptibly.

"...Already? The hell?" he thought.

Arixa void-sensed his sudden distress. "Father, is something on your mind?"

He didn’t respond immediately. His expression remained calm as the system spoke again.

❖ [Threat Assessment: Hive secrecy compromised — Risk Level: Escalating]

❖ [Cause: Sustained mana output exceeding concealment thresholds due to buildup of biomass being stored by spawn after hunts.]

❖ [Probability of discovery if unaddressed: 63% → 71% → 79%]

A quiet pulse throbbed behind his eyes.

Then the System finalized its response.

❖ [Quest Issued!]

❖ [Primary Objective: Prevent Hive Discovery]

❖ [Description: Human factions have begun correlating abnormal mana patterns to a fixed origin.]

❖ [Failure Condition: Confirmed identification of Hive existence.]

❖ [Failure Consequence: Forced extermination protocols. Total Hive loss projected; survival compromised.]

Riven’s breath slowed.

...Aren’t things moving a little too fast?