The invading army of insects paused, as they looked at the floating fairy up in the air. The Reaving Dread mercenaries looked up at the projection oddly. Just a moment ago, they were killing insects left and right. What were the chances that the other insects would just forget about that and come to enjoy a tavern?

As it turned out, the chances were very good.

"I say, a tavern in the jungle? Really?" said a massive wasp in the purest British accent ever spoken. "I could do with a good drink. All the jungle has to offer is diluted honey and insect guts. Not the most refined of tastes."

"Speak for yourself, Harriot Reginald III," spoke a massive dung beetle, similarly in a posh, british accent. "I find the jungle to have an excellent selection of food. I could use a good scrub though. Not many bathing options in these accursed lands."

A Celestial level mantis approached the castle walls faster than any of them could process, and looked down at Leonidas curiously.

"For a thing so full of blood, it's amazing you don't slosh around when you walk," it said, looking at him. "How do you do that? Is it some kind of law?"

"My dear Concord Barret Kiliminjaro IV, it's obviously because of all that skin. I mean just look at it," said a Celestial level caterpillar as it crawled up, similarly at a very fast pace. "That's a lot of skin for one creature, but the humans really make it work. Good for them."

Though the insect tried to be polite, anyone who heard its tone could tell that it really was just being polite.

"Make it work? I don't think so. Three breathing holes? That's just showing off," said another insect as it crawled up, revealing a terrifying body with only a single hole out which to breathe.

"A human? Is that what this is called?" asked a centipede as it gently poked Z's cheek. "The exoskeleton is on the inside! Such a bold choice, and yet somehow it's not dead. How incredible."

"If you think that's incredible, hear this," said Concord Barret Kiliminjaro IV. "They digest the food after eating it. Truly marvelous creatures."

"How do they not fall over with just two legs?" asked a millipede.

"They don't," said Harriot Reginald III. "They have an inbuilt cushion for whenever they fall. I believe the cushions are called buttocks!"

The dung beetle seemed incredibly pleased with itself for its advanced biological knowledge.

As more and more insects gathered, and began discussing the peculiarity of humans amongst themselves, the fairy just stayed there awkwardly, unsure of what to say. Although it had thought of copying the Innkeeper, it wasn't like it had the incredible charisma of the Innkeeper. Now that everyone was looking at it, it felt socially awkward. That's why it preferred playing the flute to talking.

Fortunately, while the fairy was frozen in awkwardness, Z was already used to being in situations he didn't want to be in. Ignoring his cheeks being pinched, he immediately spoke to the insects.

"Please, guests, join us. Come inside the tavern and let us provide you with refreshments."

Within the tavern, the moment they entered, their aura no longer intimidated anyone, which allowed the many staff members of the tavern to effortlessly act as gracious hosts.

As trained workers of the Inn, they were more than familiar with the taste preferences of insectoid guests, so there were no awkward encounters where they served them the wrong thing.

Instead, a harmonious environment suddenly filled the tavern as countless insects lined up to enter through the gates - because that was the polite thing to do.

Unlike the tavern workers, the mercenaries were unable to adapt as quickly, and were stuck there with gaping faces, observing as the enemies that were threatening to kill them just moments ago washed their hundreds of limbs with lavender soap and cleaned themselves with scented warm towels.

An ant entered the bar and upon seeing the fireplace exclaimed in shock!

"Open flame indoors? Bold. We'd never dare that back in the colonies. Quite mad. Very human."

"You don't know the least of it," said Viscount Spindle. "They voluntarily gather around this inferno. Look at them - just sitting there, as if combustion weren't actively occurring. Splendid grit. A very 'Keep Calm and Smoulder On' attitude, isn't it?"

"If you think that's mad, look at this mural," spoke a firefly, also known as Professor Glow. He pointed to a painting of a fight between a human and a dragon. "They just attack dragons! No offering? No ritual? Honestly, the whole lot of them are so confident. Walking sacks of meat, swinging swords at myth. Peak optimism right there."

"My word. How incredibly audacious. I bet that human doesn't even need to perform a mating ritual to find a mate," said a cricket jokingly. Of course the humans would still need to perform a mating ritual. How could one mate without the ritual? It was right in the name.

"Oh Cricket, you're inebriated," said a male ladybug as he stifled his laughter, talking to the cricket called Cricket - named after the sport, not the species. "How could you even think of such a thing? Without the mating ritual…"

Kaemon, who was ready to sacrifice a lot of his vitality to activate a hidden weapon given to him by the Condottiere to fight off the insects, put the weapon away and gulped. A part of him could not believe what was happening, but as he walked through the halls filled with drunk insects, joking and chatting like they were at a party, he asked himself a very important question.

"Why in the world am I the only one without a drink? Bartender! Give me a drink!"

Lex, who was honestly ready for the absolute worst, breathed a sigh of relief. That was a close call - not that they were out of the woods just yet.

For one, they were in a jungle, not the woods - they both had different kinds of vegetation, not to mention canopy structure - and secondly, though more importantly, there was still a massive army waiting outside.