My Ant Colony Devours Everything

At the start of the all-out contest, I was bound to the lowest-tier ant race unit.

As dragon lords and elven archers strutted about, I gritted my teeth and burrowed underground to gnaw on rotten meat and break down corpses, collecting genes.

When goblins mocked me, saying, “Little ants can only roll dung balls,” billions of worker ants burrowed into their camp and turned them into bones.

The human allied forces marched in, their overwhelming rain of arrows striking the insect nest but unable to pierce the outer layer of the fungal mat.

The ground suddenly collapsed, and billions of flying ants surged up from underground. Acid fog swept across the battlefield and blotted out the sky.

A mage lord from a higher-level planet descended and arrogantly unleashed a forbidden spell, a rain of fire. But the soldier ants that had burrowed into the mage tower instantly gnawed through the shield formation.

When I took my place on the throne among the stars, billions of giant ants beneath the star rings at my feet devoured the stars. “This universe is nothing but the next rotten carcass for the ant colony.”