Just give up.
Seriously.
There are monts in life when the situation becos so utterly hopeless that all you can do is accept it. When the walls close in, when every path leads to a dead end, when fate itself seems to have written your final chapter - sotis, the only peace cos from simply saying "it is what it is" and letting go.
Finding yourself in the depths of a dungeon, woefully unprepared, staring into eight crimson eyes that seem to pierce your very soul - eyes belonging to a monster that could snuff out your life as easily as snuffing out a candle - well, that's certainly one of those monts.
It was simply too much in one day.
The morning had started so perfectly though. He'd slept better than he had in years, the kind of deep, restful sleep that made him feel truly alive again. The pancakes had been golden, the bacon crisp, the tea rich and dark. For one brief, beautiful mont, everything had felt right with the world.
Then, two hours ago, he'd been drowning in water that wasn't quite water. An hour ago, he'd been dragging himself through black sand while desert worms hunted beneath his feet. Thirty minutes ago, he'd been fighting for his life against scaled predators that could turn invisible at will.
And now this...
Adom wanted to laugh. Or scream. Or both.
What was even the point? Fight one monster, only to face another. Survive one death trap, only to fall into the next. The universe had made its position clear - he wasn't ant to walk out of this dungeon alive.
Maybe it was ti to accept that.
Maybe...
The spider moved closer, its legs making no sound as they touched the stone. Its mandibles clicked together.
...This did not feel right.
To be quite honest, he was getting tired of having these profound monts of acceptance. Twice in one day was pushing it, even for him.
No.
Fuck acceptance. Fuck fate. And especially fuck this overgrown arachnid with its symtric eyes and fancy patterns.
Fight.
Yes. That was more like it.
Fight with every fiber of your being. Fight like each breath could be your last, because it probably will be. If death wants you, make it work for its prize. Take that eight-legged bastard with you if you can, or at least leave it with scars so deep that every ti it looks at them, it rembers the human who did this.
[Indomitable Will] blazed to life.
[Spiteful Fighting Spirit] answered its call.
And Adom was on fire. Literally and figuratively.
It started small - a desperate spark of [Fla] that caught on a single strand of webbing near his wrist. For a heartbeat, nothing happened.
Then the web caught.
The fire raced along the silvery strands like lightning through storm clouds, transforming the pristine white into angry orange in the blink of an eye. The heat hit him first - not unbearable, but present, like standing too close to a forge. Then ca the sll: acrid, chemical, nothing like normal spider silk should sll like.
[-1 Life Force]
The burning sensation wrapped around his neck where the web had been particularly thick. Adom grit his teeth, forcing more power into the flas. If so burns were the price of freedom, so be it.
The spider recoiled, its massive form backing away from the expanding inferno. Its movents were precise, calculated - no panic, just... assessnt. Those eight eyes reflected the dancing flas like blood-red mirrors, and Adom could swear he saw sothing like surprise in them.
[-2 Life Force]
The web around his thigh caught next, and this ti the pain was sharper, more insistent. But with it ca movent - the strands were weakening, turning to ash. Each breath brought in smoke and the taste of burning chemicals and desert walker, making his eyes water and his lungs protest.
The cave's ceiling disappeared behind a veil of black smoke. Good. Let it burn. Let it all burn.
[-1 Life Force]
More webs caught fire, spreading across the cave's intricate network of strands like a wave of destruction. The spider's carefully crafted trap was becoming its own prison, forcing it further back, away from the heat that threatened to singe its limbs.
Adom's arms ca free first, then his torso. The web around his legs took longer, and each second felt like an eternity of controlled burning.
[-1 Life Force]
His throat was raw from the smoke, his skin angry and red where the burning web had touched it. But he was moving. Free.
The smoke billowed and swirled, but not randomly - it danced towards the far corner of the cave like an arrow pointing the way out. Basic dungeon knowledge: follow the draft, find the exit. Simple. If only.
Between coughs that threatened to tear his lungs apart, Adom spotted the massive silhouette shifting through the smoke. The spider was positioning itself between him and freedom.
I need a plan...
His mana reserves were limited, and the worst thing that could happen was to have them depleted after a powerful spell, without being sure it would actually hurt the spider. He noticed the flas had not even burned it, but it seed afraid of them.
Pure strength? Against sothing that could probably bench-press a house? Not likely. Running? Those legs weren't for show, and he'd seen how fast it could move. He needed ti. Space. A distraction.
The idea of the golem knight in his inventory suddenly felt very promising.
Cavalry it is, then.
The golem materializing in a flash and charged forward without hesitation, its heavy footsteps thundering against the cave floor...
...and then it was flying. Not charging, not running - flying. Like a child's toy thrown by a giant. The golem knight sailed past Adom's head so fast it was barely more than a silver blur, crashing sowhere in the darkness behind him with a sound like a thousand pots and pans falling down a flight of stairs.
Suffice to say, this was a bad situation.
The smoke was getting thicker, each breath more shallow than the last. His eyes burned, his vision swimming with tears and dancing black spots. No choice then. Precious mana or not, he needed to breathe.
[Wind] took shape between his hands. The air around him exploded outward, carving a sphere of clarity in the choking smoke.
A lightning spell tempted him - oh, how it tempted him. But with only 207 mana left in his pool, anything he could weave would barely tickle sothing of this caliber. Level 69 monsters didn't get to that level by being careless with adventurers throwing spells around.
Besides... it wasn't attacking.
The spider just... stood there. In the dying light of the flas, Adom could finally see it properly. All the attributes he had previously seen were there. But there was sothing else - sothing he'd never considered before.
Its breathing.
How had he never wondered what a giant spider's breathing sounded like? This one's was deep, rhythmic, like distant thunder trapped underground. Behind it, the charred remains of what used to be its web still smoldered, the desert stalker's corpse now nothing more than a smoking husk.
Maybe if he just moved to the right, slowly...
The spider shifted. Not moved - shifted. One mont it was there, the next it was already blocking his path, so fast his mind barely registered the movent. A gasp escaped his lips before he could stop it.
Backing away seed like the next logical option, but the mont his weight shifted backward, the spider coiled forward, its front legs rising slightly. The ssage was crystal clear: Don't even think about it.
Adom's mind raced. This wasn't normal predator behavior - not even for dungeon creatures. Yes, they'd covered this in Advanced Monster Theory at the Academy. Higher-level dungeon denizens could match or exceed human intelligence. Professor Vale had been particularly insistent on that point, right before warning them that these were often the cruelest encounters.
But this... this felt different. The spider wasn't toying with him - it was... studying him? Containing him?
What could sothing like this possibly want from soone like him?
Pride aside, slowly, deliberately, Adom raised his hands, palms outward - the universal gesture of 'I yield' that worked with most intelligent beings. Whether it ant anything to an arachnid, even one of clearly superior intelligence, remained to be seen.
The spider's head tilted slightly, a disturbingly human-like gesture. Two of its front legs lowered fractionally, though the rest maintained their ready stance. That rhythmic breathing continued, unchanging, like a counterbeat to Adom's own racing heart.
Those crimson eyes studied his hands with particular interest. Was it checking for signs of spell-weaving? Looking for hidden weapons? Or was he just projecting human thought patterns onto sothing fundantally alien?
A drop of sweat rolled down his neck, stinging the burns there. The air still tasted of smoke and chemical residue.
The spider's mandibles moved slightly, producing a soft clicking sound that seed to have a pattern to it. Was it... was it trying to communicate?
Adom then frowned as he heard a high-pitched ringing, like a distant bell that sohow rang inside his skull. Then-
Pain.
WHITE-HOT, ALL-CONSUMING PAIN.
"Argh!"
Adom collapsed, his knees hitting the stone floor as his hands clutched his head. It felt like thousands of needles were being driven into his brain simultaneously, each one carrying its own unique agony. His screams echoed off the cave walls, mixing with the sound of his body thrashing against the ground.
The voices ca next. Hundreds, thousands of them, all speaking at once. So whispered, so shouted, so sang in languages he'd never heard. They cascaded through his mind like a waterfall of broken glass, each syllable cutting deeper than the last.
[Indomitable Will]
He started pushing back against the invasion. The pain began to recede, the voices growing fainter until...
[You have successfully resisted potent mind control!]
Mind control? That thing had tried to- The spider's shriek cut through his thoughts like a physical blow, sending him sprawling backward onto his bottom.
It was an ugly sight, but it's mouth was wide open.
A plan ford quickly: a concentrated fire bullet, just like with the desert stalker. If the carapace was too tough, aim for the mouth, right between those clicking mandibles-
His right hand was suddenly pinned to the ground by fresh webbing before his fingers had even twitched to begin the spell weaving. Not his whole body - just the exact hand he'd been about to use.
It knew. Sohow, it had known exactly what he was going to do before he did it.
But how? Mind reading seed the obvious answer, but hadn't he just resisted its ntal invasion?
The spider clicked its mandibles again, but this ti, no ntal assault followed. Instead, it... watched. Just watched, with an intensity that made Adom's skin crawl.
Around them, the last flas from his escape attempt still flickered, the dancing shadows casting on the cave walls. The spider's eyes reflected each tiny fire like eight blood-red mirrors, and then...
One of the small flas suddenly wavered, as if caught in a non-existent breeze. Then another. And another. The fires didn't go out - they just... moved. Twisted. Like sothing was trying to grasp them, to control them, but couldn't quite manage it.
"What are you..." Adom's voice trailed off as the spider tried again. And again. Each ti, those eight eyes fixed on him with an expectation that felt almost... frustrated?
Then it hit him.
"Oh God," he whispered, the realization striking him as his eyes widened. "You're trying to weave magic."
The spider stopped mid-attempt. The silence in the cave beca deafening.
The sheer impossibility of the situation made Adom's head spin. A giant spider had just tried to break into his mind, nearly caused him to be burned alive, tossed his golem around like a ragdoll, and now it was... practicing magic?
The spider's mandibles clicked rapidly, and the remaining flas all wavered at once, as if to emphasize the point.
Well, that explained why he wasn't dead yet. But it didn't make him feel any better about his chances of staying that way for long.
"Can you understand ?" Adom asked carefully, the words feeling strange in the silent cave.
The spider's legs stilled their movent. All eight eyes fixed on him.
"Move to your left if you can," Adom said, his mouth dry.
The spider took a deliberate step to its left, its movents unnaturally precise. Then it moved slightly closer, mandibles clicking in what almost seed like... eagerness? Its front legs spread in what could have been a peaceful gesture, but Adom noticed how they still kept him carefully cornered.
During the ntal assault, beneath the searing pain and violation, he'd experienced... sothing. Not quite a feeling, not exactly thoughts either. It was like catching glimpses of shape and shadow in murky water - impressions that defied description. For lack of a better word, he had 'felt' its essence, its intent. And whatever it was he'd sensed hadn't been anything close to benevolent.
Now, watching it try to manipulate fire, those shadowy impressions crystallized into understanding. That alien hunger he'd glimpsed hadn't just been for knowledge - it had been deeper, darker. More final. And if a creature like this wanted him as a teacher...
And suddenly he rembered one of Professor Vale's lectures about high-level dungeons, backed by countless stories he'd heard from adventurers in his past life, when the World Dungeon first appeared.
The internal politics of dungeons weren't static. Sotis, a particularly cunning monster would grow strong enough to challenge the dungeon's boss. If it won and consud the dungeon's core, it would beco the new ruler. He'd seen entire dungeon ecosystems changing overnight when this happened.
He assessed his situation coldly. He was exhausted, injured, and in no condition to fight sothing like the spider. Even if he sohow managed to slip past it, he was still deep in a dungeon. He'd be dead within hours, if not minutes.
But if he taught it... taught it slowly, carefully, perhaps even incorrectly in crucial ways... he could use it. At least in this cave, he'd only have to watch his back against one monster, dangerous as it was, instead of the constant threats lurking outside. Not ideal, but beggars couldn't be choosers.
He had a little more than a month before the first symptoms. Ti enough to find a way to kill it before it killed him.
The spider clicked its mandibles again, taking another step forward. Its front legs gestured toward Adom's hands, then to the remnants of flas still flickering around them. The aning was clear enough - 'show .'
"I... I can't right now," Adom said, trying to keep his voice steady. "I need to heal first. Magic requires focus, and..." He gestured to his burns and injuries. A lie, of course - he'd cast plenty of spells while worse off than this. But it didn't need to know that.
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The spider went still for a mont. Then ca a sound.
A horrible sound.
It started as a wet, gurgling noise from deep within the spider's body, like soone stirring a pot of thick stew. Adom was still trying to peel the stubborn webbing off his hand when-
SPLAT!
Sothing wet hit him full in the face, chest, arms, and legs, thoroughly drenching his entire body.
"WHAT THE F-" Adom scread, thrashing backwards. The substance was clear, oddly odorless, but thick like gel. It dripped down his face and- "IT'S IN MY MOUTH!"
He spat frantically, wiping at his face with his free hand. "What did you- what the hell did you just-" His thoughts churned through all eventualities, each worse than the last. Acid? No pain yet. Poison? How long until-
[ 3 Life Force]
[ 7 Life Force]
[ 4 Life Force]
"Huh?"
He lifted his hand, staring at the burn marks from the web fire. The angry red patches were... fading. Not just fading - healing. He could actually see the skin knitting itself back together, like watching a week's worth of recovery compressed into seconds.
"What in the..." He touched his neck. Smooth skin t his fingertips. Even the soreness in his lungs from the smoke was dissipating.
The spider clicked its mandibles again, almost... smugly? It had just... healed him? With spider spit?
"You could have warned ," Adom muttered, still wiping the healing goo from his face and glasses. "A little gesture, a sign, anything besides just..." He made a vague spitting motion with his hand, then imdiately felt foolish for trying to teach manners to a giant spider.
The spider's legs gestured emphatically at the dying flas again, its movents becoming more insistent. The ssage couldn't be clearer: Show. Magic. Now.
Adom's throat went dry. The healing substance might have fixed his wounds, but it did nothing to calm his racing heart. This wasn't so friendly exchange of knowledge - this was a predator temporarily staying its hand. The mont he ceased being useful...
He forced himself to speak, careful to keep his voice steady. "I can't right now. Magic requires a full mana pool, and mine is severely depleted. I need to sleep, recover my strength." He swallowed hard, watching those eyes for any sign of aggression. "Then I can show you properly. Tomorrow."
The spider went completely still.
Adom's muscles tensed, ready for... well, not ready at all, really. What could he possibly do if it decided-
The massive arachnid suddenly moved. Adom squeezed his eyes shut, certain this was it - but the killing blow never ca. Instead, the spider brushed past him, its carapace barely inches from his face.
The sound of rapid web-spinning made him open his eyes again. The spider was... sealing the cave entrance? Layer after layer of silvery web created an intricate barrier. Was it protecting him?
No - protecting its investnt, more likely.
When finished, the spider positioned itself by the sealed entrance, settling into an alert stance. Guarding. Waiting.
Well. Apparently his request for rest had been granted.
There was sothing almost... reasonable about all this. Deadly, yes. Terrifying, absolutely. But also thodical, considerate even. A silver lining, if you could call it that.
Though that thought did little to comfort him as he tried to find a position to rest, knowing those eight red eyes would be watching his every move during his sleep.
Freak.
*****
Consciousness crept in like an unwelco guest. The hard ground beneath him felt wrong - his bed had never been this uncomfortable. Adom's sleep-addled mind tried to make sense of it, grasping at the familiar while pushing away the unfamiliar.
Just five more minutes...
Then reality clicked.
His eyes snapped open, heart lurching as eight crimson ones stared back from across the cave.
"Oh," Adom whispered. "Not a dream then."
The massive spider remained at its post by the webbed entrance, patient and terrifying as ever. His scattered brain tried to process it all - the dungeon, the chase, the fire, the deal. Being forcibly recruited as a magic teacher to a giant spider.
Said like that, it still sounded like it should have been a dream. But the cold stone floor beneath him and those unwavering red eyes suggested otherwise.
He wasn't even aware he had fallen asleep, which made it all the more confusing.
The spider covered half the cave in two fluid steps, its movent so graceful it seed to defy its massive size. Those eight eyes fixed on Adom with an expectant intensity that made his skin crawl.
"Right. The lesson." Adom's throat felt like sandpaper. "But first, I need to..." He gestured vaguely at himself. "Food. And... other necessities."
The spider's thorax twitched, that horrible gurgling sound building up again.
"No!" Adom scrambled to his feet, hands raised. "No spitting! I have food. I just..." He patted his stomach. "And I need to... you know."
The spider's head tilted slightly.
"I need to relieve myself," Adom said, face burning. Never in his life had he imagined having this conversation with a giant arachnid.
One leg extended, pointing deeper into the cave. Several tunnels branched off from the main chamber, disappearing into darkness.
"There?"
The spider remained motionless.
Adom took a careful step forward, eyes scanning the cave walls. The tunnels seed roughly hewn, natural rather than carved. So sloped upward, others down. Possible escape routes, assuming they didn't lead to worse threats. Or dead ends.
He moved toward the nearest tunnel, but the spider materialized before him with impossible speed. Adom yelped, stumbling backward.
A different leg pointed to another tunnel, the gesture sohow managing to seem both insistent and threatening.
"That one. Got it."
The redirected tunnel was shorter, ending in a small chamber. Empty. No other exits. No hidden passages. Just a dead end that served its imdiate purpose.
It's guarding sothing in that first tunnel, Adom thought as he took care of business. Sothing important enough to risk showing its hand by stopping . He filed that information away carefully.
The spider waited at the tunnel entrance when he returned, its patience sohow more unnerving than aggression would have been.
"I need to eat now," Adom said, reaching into his inventory. The wrapped candies he bought at the weird stuff store were still there. As a breakfast, they felt... absurdly inadequate. As he unwrapped it, a thought struck him.
Maybe it was the exhaustion. Maybe it was the absurdity of his situation making him reckless. Or maybe it was just scientific curiosity.
He held out a second candy toward the spider. "Would you... like one?"
The spider's eyes shifted focus, all eight zeroing in on the small wrapped candy with an intensity that made Adom's outstretched hand waver slightly. Its front legs lifted, minutely, then stopped.
For a long mont, nothing moved.
Adom's arm started to tire, but he held still, watching.
Then, with a deliberate slowness, the spider backed up one step. Its legs settled back into their previous position. The ssage was clear enough - no.
"Fair enough," he muttered, pocketing the rejected candy and finishing his own. His stomach wasn't exactly satisfied, but it would have to do. Sothing clicked in his mind though - the spider's refusal wasn't casual. It had its own strict feeding system, that bizarre goo... If it wouldn't even accept normal candy, trying to poison it would probably be pointless. The thing seed too thodical, too set in its ways to accept food from others.
He filed that thought away carefully, crossing one potential escape plan off his ntal list.
Now short of excuses, Adom took a steadying breath. Teaching magic incorrectly would be a delicate balance - too obvious, and the spider would know. Too subtle, and it might actually learn sothing useful.
"Magic," he began, choosing his words with care, "flows through specific channels in the body." His hands moved in a deliberate pattern, one he'd seen street perforrs use to impress crowds. "These channels must be properly aligned before any spell can be cast."
The spider's legs shifted, mirroring his movents with disturbing accuracy. Adom fought to keep his expression neutral. The creature's ability to replicate complex motions was... concerning.
"Good. But rember - precision is crucial." He deliberately altered the pattern, making it slightly more complex. "The preparation stance must be perfect, or the mana will disperse." A complete fabrication, but one that played into the spider's apparent thodical nature.
Those crimson eyes tracked every finger movent, every shift in posture. Adom could almost see the creature committing each useless detail to mory. But he couldn't rely solely on physical misdirection.
"Now, for fla magic specifically..." He paused, letting anticipation build. "We begin not with creation, but with control." His hands moved over a small patch of ground. "May I?"
The spider's slight nod felt like permission and threat combined.
Adom cast a simple fire spell - the proper way, hiding the true chanism behind his elaborate gestures. A small fla sprouted between them.
"Observe. Before we can create fire, we must learn to sense it." He moved his hands around the fla in sweeping motions that did absolutely nothing. "Feel how the heat responds to your presence. Like sensing the vibrations in a web, but with thermal energy."
The spider's front legs moved through the air above the fla, mimicking his movents perfectly. Too perfectly. Adom's heart skipped a beat - he needed to complicate things further.
"No, the movent must flow through all limbs for proper mana distribution." The lie ca smoothly, born of desperate calculation. "Each appendage must maintain its own mana cycle while contributing to the whole. Like this..."
He demonstrated an impossibly complex series of gestures that would require the spider to coordinate all eight legs differently. The creature paused, processing this new challenge.
Minutes stretched into hours as Adom layered deception upon deception. Each "lesson" built upon the last, creating an intricate web of misconceptions that would hopefully take ti to unravel. He introduced arbitrary rules about mana preparation, invented elaborate safety protocols that would waste energy, and emphasized the importance of perfect form over actual results.
"Rember," he said, watching the spider attempt a particularly wasteful series of movents, "magic requires patience." And he prayed his own patience would last long enough to find a way out of this cave.
A distant screech echoed through the cave, interrupting their lesson. Adom's blood ran cold - he knew that sound. Desert stalkers.
Another screech, closer. The spider's head snapped toward the entrance, legs shifting into a lower stance.
How close were they? The sound bounced off stone walls, making it impossible to-
His stomach lurched as the ground disappeared. "Whoa!" Sothing wet and sticky pressed against his back, and then he was rising, watching a bone spear whistle through the space he'd occupied seconds before. It struck the cave wall with a crushing sound, embedding itself deep in the stone.
"This is-" he squird against the webbing, feeling it stick to his clothes, his hair, "-absolutely disgusting."
Dark shapes materialized at the cave entrance. The stalkers' scaled skin caught the torchlight, one of them looked like the alpha from last ti, black eyes reflecting nothing. Another one of them touched its torch to the webbed entrance. Flas raced up the strands.
Three stalkers entered. Then eight. Then thirteen.
Adom's mind shifted from disgust to rapid calculation. The cave was small, cramped for this many fighters. His mana had recovered sowhat during his rest. The ceiling placent, while humiliating, gave him a perfect vantage point.
If he tid it right...
He could use a burst of force magic to break free, propelling himself toward the entrance. The spider would be occupied with the stalkers. He could launch fire spells from above, then seal the entrance with a barrier spell once he was through. With luck, the collapsing cave mouth would take out several stalkers - and possibly the spider too.
The only wild card was those other tunnels. The spider might retreat rather than fight, but Adom's primary concern was escape. This might be his only chance.
He flexed his fingers carefully, ntally preparing while trying not to draw attention. Below him, the stalkers spread out in a practiced formation, and the spider... waited.
The first stalker's head hit the ground before Adom could blink. The second followed. Third. Fourth. Fifth. Blood sprayed in graceful arcs across stone walls.
Five seconds.
The remaining stalkers screeched, finally registering the threat. More poured in through the entrance. The spider moved.
No. Movent wasn't the right word.
Limbs blurred. Bodies fell. Blood painted the floor in expanding pools. One stalker lunged forward, lance extended - and t empty air. The spider was already behind it, legs piercing through scale and bone.
Adom's escape plan died in his throat. He'd be dead before reaching the entrance.
A stalker broke right, weapon raised. No - that was wrong. The spider had already moved to intercept its true path left, legs punching through its chest before the feint was complete.
How?
Three more stalkers attacked in formation. The spider flowed around their strikes like water, dealing death with chanical precision. More bodies. More blood. The pile grew.
Wait.
A stalker charged straight ahead. The spider shifted left - before the stalker had even begun to turn that direction. As if...
[Flowing Perception] activated without conscious thought. The world slowed. Adom's vision sharpened, catching details his normal sight missed.
[ 2 Flowing Perception]
Another stalker died. Adom squinted, trying to understand. The spider moved before the attack ca, but how? He focused harder.
A second death. There had to be sothing he was missing. His [Flowing Perception] caught the usual tells - muscle tension, weight shifts, the flow of movent through air. But the spider was reacting before even these appeared.
Third death. Fourth. He forced himself to look deeper. Not at the attacks. Not at the movents. At the monts before.
[ 1 Flowing Perception]
There - a stalker's hand twitched. No, before that. The spider was already moving. Earlier still. What was he missing?
[ 2 Flowing Perception]
Ah.
The next death made it click. Just before the stalker's muscles tensed to attack, before its brain had even fully ford the command, its body made microscopic adjustnts. Preparing for a decision not yet consciously made. The spider wasn't reading minds or seeing the future - it was reading the body's betrayal of its owner's intentions.
Simple. chanical. Like a leaf trembling before the wind actually hits it.
His [Flowing Perception] caught these tells after they ford. The spider caught them at their source, in that razor-thin mont between thought and action.
An ard stalker charged in, sword and shield probably scavenged from so fallen adventurer.
It effortlessly got flatened.
tal scraped against stone as it stumbled - and for a split second, the spider's movents faltered. Another stalker's claw caught a fallen blade, sending it ringing across the floor. The spider's strike missed, just barely, before it compensated with terrifying speed.
The slaughter continued. Each death taught him more. Every spray of blood revealed new patterns.
When it ended, forty-three bodies littered the cave floor. No survivors. No escapees.
The alpha's severed head stared up at him from a pool of its own blood, black eyes now as lifeless as glass beads.
Then the spider ate them.
Digestive fluids darkened the nearest corpse. The spider's mandibles worked thodically, liquefying flesh and bone. Adom winced as it slurped the resulting soup through its mouthparts.
That could have been him.
As the spider consud the first stalker, sothing strange happened. Adom blinked, unsure if he was seeing correctly. The spider's carapace seed to shimr slightly, almost imperceptibly changing. The pattern on its back shifted, taking on subtle scale-like textures similar to the stalker's hide. The transformation was slight—not dramatic enough to change the spider's fundantal appearance—but unmistakable to Adom's eye.
"It's evolving."
And suddenly, with crystal clarity, Adom understood exactly why the spider was keeping him alive. Why it was so intent on learning magic rather than simply devouring him imdiately.
It wanted his abilities after learning how to use them.
Three bodies disappeared this way. The spider moved to the others, spraying them with webbing and so viscous fluid. The corpses went rigid, suspended in a grotesque cocoon. Food storage, then.
The web holding him suddenly gave. Adom dropped, catching himself with a grunt. His clothes stuck to his skin where the webbing had touched.
The spider turned back to their practice spot, stepping over scattered limbs and congealing blood pools. Its leg tapped the ground twice - the signal to resu their lesson.
Just like that. As if forty-three deaths ant nothing. As if they weren't standing in a charnel house.
Adom wiped sticky hands on his pants and took position. The copper stench of blood filled his lungs with each breath.
Class was back in session.
*****
Adom stopped counting the days after the seventh.
No sun, no moon - just endless stone and the spider's unwavering presence. Looking at his remaining ti would only crack his fragile grip on sanity.
The candies ran out on day three. The spider dropped a fresh stalker leg by his feet that evening. The at was grey-green beneath the scales, with a texture like spoiled fish mixed with wet sand. He retched three tis before keeping it down. The aftertaste lingered - tallic and sour, like licking a rusted coin. But hunger won. Always did. The stalkers, he discovered, packed enough nutrients to keep him going. Small rcy.
A underground stream provided water, crystal clear and sweet. He'd watch the spider drink sotis, its thod thodical and alien. They shared that water source, at least.
The magic lessons stretched on. He taught slowly, carefully - honest about the ti needed, dishonest about his thods. On the fourth day, the spider made his conjured fla flicker. Just a tiny manipulation, but Adom's heart nearly stopped. The creature could use mana. Had always been able to. What else could it do?
Between lessons, he explored. All tunnels open except one - forbidden, the spider made that clear. The rest of the cave system beca his library. Every spare mont spent watching, learning, trying to understand the spider's precognitive combat ability.
[Flowing Perception] activated constantly now. He studied his own movents, the tiny tells that betrayed intention. The slight shoulder tension before casting. The weight shift before stepping. Could these be suppressed? Hidden?
[ 3 Flowing Perception]
[ 2 Flowing Perception]
[ 4 Flowing Perception]
On the fifth day, sothing changed. Mid-observation, the skill pulsed.
[Flowing Perception is evolving...]
The tests began small. A deliberate shift of weight during practice. The spider's head would turn, tracking the motion before it happened. Scratch an itch - those legs would twitch toward the movent. Even thoughts of movent drew reaction.
Days blurred. Better not to count.
He layered his experints. During magic practice, he'd create a fla while planning to move his hand left. The spider would orient itself left before he moved. Sotis he'd abandon the planned movent entirely - studying how long the spider maintained its predictive stance.
More complex tests followed. Multiple planned movents. False intentions. Real ones hidden beneath. The spider caught them all, though sotis... sotis there was a delay. Microseconds between his deepest-hidden intentions and its response.
He watched it hunt. Every stalker that entered beca a lesson. The green bastards were either very stupid for coming still, or very brave, or both. It deserved so respect. Useless, but to be respected.
The spider's movents weren't random. They followed flows - air currents, muscle tensions, the subtle symphony of pre-motion tells.
[Flowing Perception] strained with each observation. The skill grew sharper, more refined. He started seeing not just current movents, but their origins. The way a stalker's neck muscles tensed before its arm moved. How weight distributed before a step.
Sotis, during lessons, he caught himself moving in response to the spider's motions before they happened. Brief monts of anticipation that felt more like instinct than thought.
The spider watched him too. He sensed its scrutiny. Hopefully it saw only a teacher teaching magic, not one dissecting its every move.
Ti passed. How long? Don't think about it.
Then, one day, after a lesson, sothing clicked. His mind emptied of everything except pure observation. The spider stood before him, demonstrating a mana manipulation.
Right, he thought absently, his hand supporting his head. It moved right.
Left. Left.
His eyes widened as consciousness caught up to instinct. The system ssage appeared:
[Flowing Perception] is evolving into [Flow Prediction]...
[Acquired: Flow Prediction (Rare) (Active/Passive)]
[Ability: Perceive and analyze pre-movent patterns and intent]
[Current Level: 01]
[Warning: Skill effectiveness heavily dependent on user's focus and physical condition.]
His heart raced. He forced his breathing steady, face neutral. Don't let it show. Don't let it know.
The lesson continued.
*****
Don't check the ti. Don't check the days. Focus.
Adom had been tempted to do it a few tis, but, he knew it would distract him from what he was about to do.
The spider's latest attempt at mana control made Adom's stomach clench. Not just flickering flas now - it could dim them, spread them. Progress too fast. Much too fast. Soon it would connect the dots between mana control and actual spellweaving.
Then he'd outlive his usefulness. Simple math really.
His mana pool now sat at 750, full and ready. The wrist had partially healed, though phantom pain still lingered.
The stalkers' at kept him strong, even if every bite still made him gag. Physical strength maintained. ntal strength... well, he was still sane enough to plan. Had to count for sothing.
The golem sat in his inventory, retrieved during one of his "bathroom breaks." The spider never followed him there, at least. Small rcies.
In that dark, damp cave, he'd carefully pull out the broken pieces of the Wakey Bird - the sa one he'd destroyed in frustration back at the Academy. His hands would move slowly, thodically, trying to minimize any sound of tal against tal.
Ah, the Academy. It felt like a lifeti ago now. He'd hated the monotony then, the endless lectures, the strict schedules. What he wouldn't give to be back in those sun-filled halls, complaining about morning classes and bland cafeteria food. Everything to return to that simple life where his biggest worry was passing the next exam.
But here, in this cave that reeked of stalker blood and spider webs, those mories served a purpose. Each ti he went to "relieve himself," he'd work on reassembling the construct, making small modifications to its design.
He had an idea - not fully ford yet, but growing clearer with each session. The runes needed to be perfect. The mana circulation had to be completely silent. One wrong click, one tallic scrape too loud, and all his careful planning would be for nothing.
He'd watched the spider's sleep patterns. Every rest period, there was a window - about an hour in, when its legs would go completely slack. The twitching that usually responded to nearby movent would slow, almost stop. Deep sleep. As deep as sothing like that could manage, anyway.
The plan was simple. Had to be. Complicated plans died fast against sothing that could read your moves before you made them. But even pre-cognitive combat had limits. You couldn't dodge what you couldn't sense coming.
Adom decided he would strike tonight.
...Or today. There was no sun or moon to know which was which.
He would strike soon. Yes. Better.
Just had to wait for those legs to go slack.
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