A Soldier's Life

Chapter 171: Surprise Webbing



Chapter 171: Surprise Webbing

We had three unexplored corridors from the safe room, but we were following the note left by Castile. The corridor was unremarkable, just like the other dungeon levels. It was a short walk before we reached a room with large, elaborate webs crisscrossing the ceiling. The floor was stone with small patches of emerald grass that danced in the light from above. Large, bulbous, man-sized white sacs dotted the webs.

I was in disbelief. Could those cocoons contain the remains of Castile and her group? My common sense told me there was no way they would have fallen to spiders. I tensed up, realizing for the first time that maybe the Kettle of Souls was gone, and we had no way of the city before being overwhelmed by the specters. Castile could already be dead. I shook off the negative thoughts and scanned the room, looking for movement. My heart rate was elevated as I tried to figure out what we were dealing with.

The webbing indicated spiders, and I was not a fan of spiders. “Maveith, do you see anything?”

“The floor is coated in webbing. Fighting with our boots sticking to the floor will be difficult.” I glanced at the floor, and I completely missed it. Konstantin would have berated me for not accounting for everything in the environment. The silvery-green web strands were camouflaged, blending into the floor. As I studied the floor, Maveith speculated, “I count four cocoons. Maybe the spiders are in there.”

“You don’t think those are people? Castile’s group?” I wondered aloud, returning my focus to the ceiling.

Maveith seemed to consider, “No. Too small. They are smaller than legionnaire armor, only about half the length of a person.” I nodded at his assessment after studying the sacs for a while. The cocoons were forty feet in the air, near the ceiling, and the flowing lights around them created the illusion that they were bigger than they looked.

“Are we going to enter?” Maveith asked, eager for action. Or maybe he wanted to reunite with the others.

I considered our options. “Go ahead. Take a few small steps in, then step back out if anything stirs. I’ll watch from the corridor.” Maveith did not mind being used as bait and did not hesitate. He stepped into the room, taking small steps to draw out the enemy. His fourth step, just five feet from me, made a sticky-tearing sound. The cocoons vibrated above him on their suspended cables. He tried to step back but struggled as his boots resisted the sticky strands now attached to them.

Four glossy black spiders emerged from the cocoons and immediately shot threads of webbing at Maveith. The thin spider silk did not look dangerous or capable of restraining the goliath. Maveith had made it back to within a step of the corridor. His boots had dozens of sticky strands attached to them, making walking difficult. He twirled his hammer to intercept the incoming threads. The strands quickly wrapped around the hammer’s head, forming a mini cocoon, reminding me of cotton candy at a carnival.

Then, all of a sudden, Maveith grunted unhappily. “They are trying to steal my hammer, Eryk.” As Maveith pulled on the handle, the entire webbing network on the ceiling flexed, and the cocoons and spiders bobbed from his effort to keep his hammer. I stepped into the room and cut the lines attached to the hammer. My black blade severed the spider strands with ease.

“Back into the corridor,” I ordered, and we both retreated. I freed his boots from the strands dragging behind him. The four spiders repelled down to the floor, their glossy black chitinous legs tapping the ground, sounding irritated at our escape. The spiders did not approach us but seemed very agitated by our presence. “Why do you think they’re not attacking us?” I asked Maveith.

Maveith’s boots still made a sticky adhesive sound as he walked. He was also having trouble peeling the spider cocoon off the head of his hammer. “I do not know. Maybe they only have ranged attacks? They do look fragile.” He noted with some contempt.

Maveith’s observation was astute. The spiders were not large and looked fragile, with spindly legs and oversized abdomens. Their heads were small, and their fangs were barely noticeable. It seemed these spiders incapacitated their prey before moving in for the kill. There were only four spiders. I wanted to find Castile, so we needed to conquer this room. “Maveith, can you get two if we rush them? The two on the right?”

Maveith’s response was an uncharacteristic roar as he charged into the room. I guessed the spiders had angered him by trying to take his hammer, and it was time for payback. Don’t mess with a goliath’s hammer, I guess. I rushed in behind him, casting an air shield just above the ground as I did so. Maveith’s hammer slammed into the first spider.

Two spiders shot a spray of dense webbing at me. My air shield intercepted the attack, the spider silk pooling on the shield in a white mass. The spiders did not understand what was happening and moved closer to me. My black blade lashed out around the air shield, stabbing deep into one spider.

The second spider tried to flee. I lunged awkwardly as my feet stuck to the floor, and only caught three legs. It was crippled, oozing blue blood, and it struggled to get away. I looked over at Maveith, who was struggling to move his feet. The second spider had retreated toward the ceiling and was spewing webbing at him. The goliath was angry but slowed as the strands began to layer him, restricting his movement. “Maveith, use your skinning knife. Don’t get captured.”

I moved to pursue the crippled spider, stepping on an air shield to allow me to move without hindrance. The spider was slowed from blood loss, and it offered no resistance when I ended its life with my blade. Maveith had freed himself in the meantime. This had been a difficult room, and we had underestimated the threat of the spiders.

I got within range of the last suspended spider. It thought it was safe a dozen feet above us, but I used my dimensional space to but the strand it hung from. For a split second, I thought I saw surprise register on its monstrous face as it fell a dozen feet to the ground, and I quickly dispatched it with my sword as it landed. The dead spider leaked blue blood, its spinneret slowly releasing more thread.

The stone reward chest appeared, signaling we had cleared the room. Thanks to my air shields, it was not a challenge for me to traverse the sticky floor. Maveith’s small runic knife was the best tool to cut away the strands that were slowing him down. My non-runic knife quickly got gummed up, its edge becoming useless unless cleaned repeatedly. My black blade worked as well, but it was awkward. I met Maveith at the chest, which yielded only a few silver coins and a single potion.

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I turned the potion to read the script. “It says hover, Maveith. Or maybe levitate? I can confirm it in the dreamscape. I’m going to use the collector. Is there anything else harvestable? Maybe the spinnerets?”

“Maybe. I can try.” Maveith took his skinning knife and moved to try his best to harvest the spider. I remembered Delmar being skilled at extracting them intact.

Maveith struggled to walk across the sticky floor to each spider. The collector worked on each spider, giving a minor essence of coordination. While Maveith worked, I tried to figure out what the spiders ate. The floor was stone with tufts of emerald grass scattered across it. I kneeled to study the grass. It reflected the light, giving it a shimmering appearance. I tried to pick one and immediately regretted it. The grass was flexible but sharp like a knife. A long cut formed on my palm, bleeding freely. “Shit, that hurts,” I hissed.

Maveith looked up on alert, “Is there a problem?”

“The grass is sharp and tough. Maybe it’s fuel for the spiders to make their webbing.” It was a wild guess, but it made sense in this dungeon ecosystem. I stomped over to Maveith, who successfully collected two spinnerets. His first attempt had failed as he cut it with a knife, rupturing the sac, and the spider he’d smashed with his hammer had a split sac. I added the two sacs to my storage.

We moved across the sticky floor to the only other exit from the room. Once we reached the corridor, we used Maveith’s runic skinning knife to cut the webbing from various parts of our clothing and boots. My legs and most of Maveith’s body had remnants of the spider silk. I decided we could clean it later in a safe room.

This corridor was much longer and curved to the right, making it difficult to see more than fifty feet ahead. Eventually, it opened into a massive room that looked like an entire forest had been transplanted into the dungeon. The ceiling seemed even brighter, giving the trees something to reach for as they extended high above us, creating a green canopy. Remembering the phase spiders, I was hesitant to enter.

“I cannot see any other exits,” Maveith’s voice said over me. This forest made it difficult to see anything. The sound of an axe on wood suddenly echoed from deep within the woods. Maveith and I looked at each other. A second axe sounded in response. A terrible rhythm echoed as the two axes competed in different tempos.

I was hopeful that those axes could belong to legionnaires. Maveith was also craning his neck, trying to see past the tree trunks. A familiar voice rang out over the chopping, “Stay away from the knots; it’ll be too hard to split with our hand axes.”

“That sounded like Firth,” Maveith said excitedly.

I nodded and listened for a while to confirm but only heard axe strikes. “Let’s go, Maveith. Be ready to retreat if necessary.” We moved into the chamber, moving silently toward the other side. The sound of grunts and the thudding of axes grew louder. In a small clearing, I saw a bloody Konstantin harvesting a massive black bear while Firth, Wylie, and Mateo cut branches.

I did not see anyone else, but Konstantin was a part of Castile’s group. Firth, Wylie, and Mateo had been with Felix. I signaled Maveith to stay while I approached the group. Maybe I could surprise Konstantin. My armor rasped as I moved, but the echo of the axe strikes covered the noise.

Konstantin suddenly whistled, and everyone froze, including me. I was maybe twenty feet from Konstantin, with his back turned. Firth asked, “What is it? You think that annoying goblin is back?”

Konstantin slowly turned around, and I hid myself. “I thought I heard something,” he said. “And there is something foul in the air, yet there is no wind.” The men suddenly dropped their axes, and I heard swords being drawn.

So much for surprising them, "Well, if you think I smell foul, then I’ll just leave,” I said, stepping out from cover.

Mateo grinned widely, “Is that a virgin dryad or Eryk? I hear they’re both pretty rare in dungeons.” His eyes slowly widened, “What in Pluto’s realm happened to your armor?” My armor did look terrible—it was warped, charred, and recently covered in spider webbing.

Konstantin was cautious, still holding his bloody skinning knife in one hand and his runic weapon in the other. Firth nodded, like my appearance was just natural. Wylie started to smile, matching Mateo. Konstantin asked, “Where are the others you were in charge of?”

“Maveith!” I called the goliath forward. “Brutus and the Scholar got separated when we entered. We’ve been wandering for days.” Maveith came through the trees, and everyone relaxed, but happy faces abounded.

“Wandering, eh?” the always-skeptical Konstantin noted.

I ignored his suspicion. “Are Castile and the others nearby?”

Firth answered, “Adrian, Blaze, and Castile are in the safe room. We’re gathering wood for cooking and harvesting the shadow bear.”

“What about Felix?” I inquired.

Smiles faded, and Mateo responded, “He did not make it. The first room we tried…” He trailed off, not finishing the sentence. Felix and Mateo were good friends, and they had been my roommates when I joined the company in Formica. I felt the pain of loss, a knot forming in my stomach.

Konstantin started pressing me for information, and I reported what I knew, “We saw Brutus, Kolm, Donte, Linus, Flavius, and the Scholar. We couldn’t reach them because they were on the other side of a massive earth drake. They said Cyrus, Remus, and Soren were killed by the summoner outside the dungeon entrance. They think the summoner is now wandering the dungeon with us.”

“That would explain the goblin,” Firth said. “It must be one of his scouts.” I did not correct him and gave Maveith a look to keep quiet about the goblin’s origins.

My news could have been met better. Konstantin processed what I said, looking unhappy. He looked at everything that had been harvested so far. “We need to inform Castile. Let’s focus on wood. We can always return to kill the bear again, but we need the wood to cook it.”

Mateo whined nervously, “I don’t want to fight the shadow bear again.”

Wylie patted him on the back, “At least there was a healing potion for you after the fight.”

“Was it a hard fight?” Maveith asked, interested.

Konstantin said dismissively, “It can move between shadows, and Castile’s shadow chains had no effect on it. This is our second time killing the beast. Mateo just made the mistake of having his back to a shadow.” Mateo winced at the memory.

Firth appraised us, “The meat tastes a little smoky, but it’s edible.” He was inspecting our small packs, probably thinking we did not have much food.

“Maveith, help Konstantin with the bear. Show him your new runic knife,” I said, smirking, knowing Konstantin would be jealous even if he did not show it. “We should definitely take everything we can.”

As we started working together, Mateo approached and gave me a hug, “Just wanted to make sure you’re real and not a figment of my imagination. I am sure you have a story about why you look like a fiery dragon swallowed you and then shit you out.”

It was odd talking with everyone after so long. Konstantin kept eyeing me suspiciously, trying to figure out how Maveith and I had survived for so long. Even on the first level of the dungeon, the rooms were dangerous.

Once we were finally loaded with wood and bear meat, we started off toward the safe room, where I would reunite with Castile and the others.

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