Fabre in Sacheon's Tang-Chapter 135: Silver (2)

A cocoon unlike any other.

It gleamed with a radiant silver hue, entirely different from the pristine white cocoons surrounding it.

Roughly 25 centimeters in size and oval-shaped, it was the same size as the celestial silkworm cocoons, yet the texture of the silk felt entirely different.

The light from the Night Pearl subtly reflected off its surface, making it glimmer as if polished.

No, it wasn’t just a feeling—the cocoon was actually reflecting light.

‘What... is this? A different species?’

Although the size was nearly identical to that of the celestial silkworm, its distinct coloration immediately made me wonder if it belonged to a different species.

Even though I had already found celestial silkworms living in symbiosis with the termites, I couldn’t rule out the possibility of another species coexisting within the mound.

After all, termite colonies were well-known for harboring numerous guest species.

In nature, even ordinary termites serve as food for over 80 species of birds and mammals, and within their mounds, dozens of insect species live off their indirect or direct assistance.

Some steal termite eggs, mushrooms, or processed wood debris, while others simply use the sturdy mound as a shelter.

In other words, termite colonies were bustling hubs of freeloaders—just like the Tang Clan’s estate, but with far less discretion in choosing their guests.

While the Tang Clan only allowed in those who could be useful, termites were, frankly, pushovers.

That’s why I thought this silver cocoon might belong to a rare moth species with a lifestyle similar to that of the celestial silkworm.

Excited, I reached out and gently pressed against the cocoon.

If there was a larva inside, I had to be careful not to harm it.

However, when I pressed on it cautiously... the cocoon didn’t budge.

It was as solid as if it had been woven from iron threads.

Thinking that perhaps all celestial silkworm cocoons were this firm, I pressed on a regular one beside it.

It, too, was just as unyielding.

Come to think of it, if they had to survive in a termite mound full of soldier termites, it made sense that their cocoons would be this tough.

Determined to examine it more closely, I picked it up.

“Please, let it be unhatched... Please...”

But the moment I held it in my hands, I noticed something—there was no weight to it.

I turned it upside down, and there it was—a small, circular hole at the tip of the cocoon.

A clear sign that the adult moth had already emerged and left.

“Damn it.”

I had hoped it was still intact, but I was holding nothing more than an empty shell.

My excitement faded instantly.

Just as I was processing my disappointment, I heard Xintu’s voice echo from the tunnel entrance.

He must have been curious about whether I had found the celestial silkworms.

“So, did you find the celestial silkworm silk?”

I turned toward the entrance, where I could barely make out Xintu’s silhouette in the dim light.

Since the hole Bini had dug wasn’t very large, Xintu, with his bulky frame, couldn’t fit inside.

Deciding it was best to bring the cocoons outside first, I started stuffing them into the /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ pouch I had brought.

“Yes, I found about thirty.”

“What!? Thirty!?”

Xintu’s voice erupted in shock.

Since the cocoons were quite large, I would need to make two trips.

Carrying the first batch outside, I saw Xintu and his disciple, Yeong-ryeon, exclaiming in awe.

“Ohh! So it’s true! To think there are so many of them! The elders only managed to gather about ten in their time!”

“Master, so these are the cocoons that produce celestial silk?”

While they examined the celestial silkworm cocoons, I returned inside to retrieve the rest, including the mysterious silver one.

Then, holding up the strange cocoon, I asked Xintu, “Have you ever seen this before?”

His eyes widened at the sight.

“This...!?”

“Oh, so you do know what it is!?”

I held my breath, anticipating his response.

But Xintu simply shook his head.

“No, this is the first time I’m seeing such a thing. Is it also a celestial silkworm?”

‘Oh, come on, really?!’

His answer was a complete letdown.

Just then, I heard Bini let out another cry from deeper inside.

— Tssrrr!

And with her cry, a cloud of dust erupted from the tunnel.

— CRACK!

— Rumble!

“Bini! Are you okay?!”

Fearing a cave-in, I ran toward the source of the dust and called out.

Through our bond, I felt reassurance—Bini was fine.

A moment later, she emerged from the dust, carrying something in her mouth.

A massive, flat, oval-shaped red stone—about the size of two human torsos fused together.

— Tssssrrr!

It was smooth and polished.

There was no doubt about it.

She had found the queen’s chamber.

“Oh! You found it!”

— Tssr!

Bini signaled that something was inside.

I inspected the stone, searching for an entrance.

Termite queen chambers varied in the number of exits depending on the species, so I needed to find the right opening.

Checking the perimeter, I spotted a single hole.

Tiny, panicked termite heads peeked out, then quickly withdrew.

“Bini, bite here—right along this direction.”

The key to opening a termite queen’s chamber was to split it horizontally.

Though incredibly sturdy, its lateral structure was much weaker.

Since the chamber was oval and flat, splitting it along its natural grain would crack it in two.

At my request, Bini clamped down on the entrance.

A sharp crack echoed through the tunnel.

“Alright, let’s open it up.”

Termite mounds were made from hardened saliva and soil, but they weren’t particularly heavy.

With Xintu’s help, we pried open the chamber’s top half.

Inside, we were met with a writhing mass of termites.

And in the center of it all, stretched out along the ground—an enormous termite queen.

While army ants were far larger than regular termites, in terms of proportional size difference, termite queens were much bigger.

Unlike worker termites, a termite queen’s lower body was grotesquely enlarged, resembling a giant larva.

Some termite queens could live for over fifty years, spending their entire lives locked in their chambers, doing nothing but laying eggs.

To facilitate this endless reproduction, their ovaries developed in an almost monstrous fashion.

Though they only had two ovaries, they contained over 2,000 ovarioles, giving them their bloated, grub-like appearance.

Beside her, I also spotted a termite king—smaller but distinct.

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Unlike worker termites, it had a pale white body, but its shape resembled a cockroach.

Well, that made sense.

Termites weren’t really ants—they were more closely related to cockroaches.

“H-Hiiieeek! W-What is that?!”

Yeong-ryeon recoiled in horror.

Even Seol wrinkled her nose in disgust.

“T-That thing is disgusting. So-ryong, is that another queen, like last time?”

“Yes, this is the White-Clad Empress and Emperor.”

After letting everyone take a good look, I quickly closed the chamber and turned to Yo-hwa.

“Yo-hwa, wrap this up tightly with your silk. We need to bring it back to the Tang Clan. Bini, now we just need to find the larvae.”

— Kishi!

— Tssrrr!

While Yo-hwa secured the chamber, I turned to Bini and Yeong-ryeon.

Now, we had to find the celestial silkworm larvae.

Since they weren’t in the queen’s chamber, they had to be somewhere in the fungus farming room.

We had to find them.

Their diet would determine how we cared for them.

I had assumed they either consumed nutrients provided by the termites or ate termite larvae, but if they actually fed on fungi, I’d need to adjust my plans.

Just as I was about to step forward—

Yeong-ryeon turned pale.

“H-Hiiiek! M-Me too?!”

“Then... should we take Elder Xintu inside?”

“No, that’s not necessary...”

“But even if he wanted to go, Elder Xintu is too big to fit inside, so you’ll have to go instead, Miss Yeong-ryeon. It’s fine, I promise. Bini has already driven out the White-Clad Termites, so it should be safe for now.”

“But what about the other ladies...?”

I gestured toward Hwa-eun and Seol.

Yeong-ryeon’s expression immediately soured.

Of all of us, only she was wearing a form-fitting nightwalking outfit—perfect for moving stealthily. Meanwhile, Seol was dressed in a traditional short skirt favored by the Yunnan minority women, and Hwa-eun was draped in the long, flowing robes of Central Plains nobility. Crawling through the narrow tunnels of a termite mound was out of the question for them.

So, with an unwilling Yeong-ryeon by my side, we started searching the termite fungus farm.

As we gathered some mushrooms to ensure the termites could regrow their food supply, we carefully scoured the chamber.

Then, on the fungi-covered walls, we finally spotted what we were looking for.

A celestial silkworm larva—perched atop a mushroom, munching on termite larvae.

“There! Over there!”

Yeong-ryeon was the first to spot it and called out excitedly.

I looked up at the ceiling where she was pointing.

The larva had already reached its second instar, growing to about the size of my palm.

And, just as we had suspected, it was alternating between feasting on termite larvae and nibbling at the fungi.

“So, it does eat mushrooms too?”

The bite marks on the fungi were unmistakable.

Hearing my observation, Yeong-ryeon tilted her head.

“But it’s eating larvae right now...”

“Once it finishes those, it’ll probably move on to the mushrooms.”

“Really?”

“Yes, those bite marks on the fungi look just like the marks from its mandibles.”

Sure enough, once it devoured the last of the termite larvae, it turned and began to eat the mushrooms as well.

“Oh! You were right!”

Yeong-ryeon’s eyes widened with amazement.

But while she marveled at how my prediction had come true, I was already contemplating a different issue.

This meant I couldn’t take it back to the Tang Clan right away.

It seemed to rely on mushrooms as a staple food while supplementing its diet with termite larvae for protein.

‘Damn... this means I can’t take it back yet.’

The Celestial Blue butterflies in my past life had started by feeding on the nutrient-rich secretions provided by ants. But once they matured, they turned on the ant larvae for additional sustenance.

That was natural behavior.

But for this larva, reaching its second instar and already feasting on both mushrooms and termite larvae meant one thing—it would be impossible to bring it back now.

I had initially planned to entrust it to the initial termite colony and let them raise it.

However, if I did that, it would just devour both the mushrooms and the larvae necessary for the colony’s growth.

The mushrooms weren’t an issue—after all, the Tang Clan was already cultivating poisonous mushrooms with great dedication.

If we brought back the fungal cultures used by the termites, setting up a mushroom farm wouldn’t be difficult.

I even recalled that termite mushrooms had been sold as edible fungi in China in my past life, so cultivating them should be feasible.

But the termite larvae were a different story.

The only larvae available were the ones in the queen’s chamber we had collected.

Even though the termite queen would lay more eggs, raising a thriving colony required maintaining their numbers by providing deadwood as sustenance.

If we had to start feeding these larvae to the celestial silkworm right away, the termite colony wouldn’t survive—it would wither and die.

Typically, predatory butterflies only started consuming larvae at their fourth instar, just before pupation.

But this one?

It was already eating them at the second instar.

To properly rear celestial silkworms, we first needed to stabilize the termite colony.

And if this larva kept consuming their food supply at this rate, the entire colony would collapse before it even had a chance to settle.

With a heavy heart, I came to a decision.

“I guess we have no choice.”

“We’re leaving it behind.”

“What? Why?”

Yeong-ryeon stared at me in disbelief.

“It feeds on both mushrooms and termite larvae. If we take it back now, our termites won’t be able to sustain themselves before their numbers grow.”

“Oh...”

‘Well, releasing one back into nature isn’t the worst thing.’

Still, I worried about one thing.

I had two remaining celestial silkworm eggs.

If those didn’t hatch as a male-female pair, things would get complicated...

But there was nothing I could do about that now.

I sighed and crawled out of the tunnel.

As soon as we emerged, termites swarmed the breach, rapidly sealing the opening and restoring their nest.

***

After transporting the termites to the Tang Clan, we buried them in a secluded section of Tang Mountain, where there were plenty of dead trees.

Most people considered termites pests.

But in truth, they were beneficial insects.

They broke down deadwood that would otherwise go unprocessed, enriching the soil in the process.

I had no doubt that if we used their processed soil to grow crops, the harvest would thrive due to its high nutrient content.

Once the termites were established, they immediately began constructing a mound.

By the next day, a small termite nest had already formed.

To ensure the colony didn’t suffer from food shortages, I asked the Tang Clan to cultivate fungi.

I also instructed them to use some of the mushrooms we had collected from Venomous Creatures Squad’s fields as additional feed.

Meanwhile, Xintu seemed satisfied with the number of cocoons we had recovered.

He began working with the Tang Clan’s silk artisans to process the silk threads.

Since spinning the silk required internal energy, both Xintu and the artisans would need to be involved.

And while they worked on that...

I turned my attention to unraveling the mystery of the silver cocoon.

— Splash.

“All done, So-ryong.”

“Thanks. Now, let’s see...”

In a large basin filled with lukewarm water, I placed both the silver cocoon—which I had named Silver Silkworm—and a regular celestial silkworm cocoon.

This wasn’t to extract the silk.

It was to examine the remains inside.

Cocoons were protective chambers spun by insects before pupation.

Even after the adult emerged, remnants of the pupa shell would still be inside.

By restoring the shed pupa casing, I could get a rough idea of what the creature had looked like before emerging.

The reason I used lukewarm water was to soften the dried, shriveled pupa shell so I could carefully extract it.

As the silver and white cocoons floated in the water, I waited.

Soon, the pupa shells loosened and separated.

I carefully retrieved them, drained the excess moisture, and began reconstructing them.

Using fine pins, I gently spread out the remains into their natural shape.

For any broken or detached parts, I reinforced them with glue.

Once the delicate restoration was complete, two large pupa casings lay before me.

One was translucent white.

The other was silver.

“Ohhh! Incredible, So-ryong! I’ve never seen such a technique before!”

The warriors watching my process marveled at my skill.

I wiped the sweat from my forehead and downplayed it.

“Hmph. It’s nothing special.”

In my past life, those who raised venomous creatures or insects often preserved their deceased specimens by taxidermy.

I had picked up this skill back then, and it seemed I hadn’t lost my touch.

Now, I compared the two reconstructed pupae.

I carefully examined every detail.

Then, I reached a baffling conclusion.

‘Wait... aside from the color, they’re identical?’

Everything—from the spiracles to the body segments, the eyes, mouthparts, and abdomen—was exactly the same.

The only difference was the color.

Just as I was processing this strange realization, Hwa-eun suddenly burst in.

She had been going through records at my request.

“So-ryong! You told me to check the Chronicle of Heavenly Venomous Beasts, right? Look at this!”

She flipped open the book, and within the first few pages, I saw something that stopped me in my tracks.

One of the Ten Great Venomous Creatures...

Silver Silkworm Moth.