"Daita…!" he heard her whisper weakly.
He spun toward her, and found the spider, but this time, it was above her, crouched right on the web, its sharp legs digging into the silken threads. Astra stared up at it, pale as snow, her breath caught in her throat as if she might faint at any second.
The massive white spider tilted its head slightly, venom still dripping from its glistening fangs as it loomed above the trapped Astra. Its six eyes glinted, and then—
A voice, low and raspy, slithered through the air.
"Well, well… what a pretty little prey. And a human at that?" the spider hissed, its voice echoing in the web like dry leaves scraping stone. "Mmm… how long has it been since I last saw a warm-blooded one like you?"
It crawled to Astra's left with chilling grace, its limbs whispering across the web. "Maybe… four months?"
Astra's mouth fell open. Her eyes widened in disbelief. "This spider can talk?! That means—it's a…"
"Demon," Daita said grimly before she could finish. He stood with his blade lowered, gaze unwavering as Astra gulped. "And not just any demon. It's a nine-hundred-year-old, tier-seven demon… Bingya."
"What?!" Astra squeaked, her eyes darting back to the creature now circling her. "That's Bingya?!"
The spider paused, its face slowly turning toward Daita. Then, disturbingly, it laughed—a dry, creaking sound that echoed like twigs snapping under frost.
"What a surprise," Bingya rasped, its voice smug and curious. "This mortal knows my name? Knows me? Fascinating. Most who wander here only come chasing that cursed flower."
Daita's eyes narrowed, but he remained silent as the demon continued, legs twitching with amusement.
"But too bad…" Bingya hissed, lowering its head slightly, "Not even one proved worthy of that bloom. And oh, too good….they all turned into my meals."
Astra's heart pounded. She looked at Daita, lips parted in a mix of fear and disbelief, her voice coming out a whisper.
"So this was the flower you needed… knowing a demon was here?"
Daita didn't respond to Astra's shaken question. Instead, his eyes twitched slightly, darkening as he stepped forward, gaze locked on the massive spider demon.
"Prove themselves?" he scoffed. "I don't think those words should come from the mouth of a demon like you one who guards such a sacred flower, only to trap and devour those who come close to it. If we're talking about worth, you are the one unworthy to even be near that bloom. You're using it for your own twisted greed."
Bingya's fangs twitched. Then, with a sharp, eerie hiss, it laughed again low, guttural, and echoing in the glade.
"A mere mortal… accusing me?" it sneered. "After seven hundred years of guarding this bloom? Seven hundred winters I've watched it open and fade, year after year! I've killed more humans than you've even seen. You think I guard it for greed?"
Daita frowned deeply, his grip tightening around the hilt of his blade.
"I don't want to waste my breath on your theatrics," he said coldly. "I'm here for one reason. Let me take the flower this year… or be ready to lose whatever time you think you still have."
The demon's laughter abruptly stopped.
Thick drops of venom dripped from its ivory fangs now, sizzling where they touched the web. Its six eyes narrowed, burning with fury.
"How dare you…" Bingya hissed, voice trembling with rage. "You trespass into my territory without permission… and now you demand the bloom? You dare to threaten me?!"
Daita shrugged with a cold calmness, his expression unreadable. "I'm in your territory, that's why I'm still being nice. If I weren't, you'd already be dead. As I said—I don't have time. Just give me the flower."
The spider demon tilted its grotesque head slowly, then burst into another eerie fit of laughter, its fangs glistening with venom.
"I see… You're no ordinary human. I can feel it—your spiritual energy… both of you," Bingya rasped, its six eyes flicking between Daita and Astra. "So, you both want that flower, do you? Fine. You can have it…"
The demon's voice dropped into a teasing hum, "But—you must prove you're worthy of it."
Daita narrowed his eyes. "And what exactly do I need to do?"
"Oh, nothing too difficult," Bingya hissed with a sick grin. "We'll play a harmless little game."
"Game?" Daita's frown deepened.
"Game?" Astra blinked. "We came all the way through snowstorms, blade-webs, and a demon… to play games?"
"Oh yesss," Bingya cooed. "A simple game of truth and lies. We'll play three rounds. In each round, I'll speak three sentences, two of them are truths, one is a lie. You must find the lie."
Daita stayed silent, his gaze sharp and unblinking.
"If you guess correctly," Bingya continued with a venomous smile, "I will grant you three conditions. Anything you ask, and yes….one of those can be the flower. But if you fail to find the lie…"
Its voice lowered into a dark, giddy growl.
"Then this pretty prey," it said, gesturing a claw toward Astra, "will be my meal. I'll devour her slowly. And you… I'll eat next. And the bloom? It will never leave this mountain."
Astra's eyes widened in horror. "You've got to be kidding me…"
Daita's hand dropped from his blade. He stepped slightly forward, "…Fine," he said, voice cold as frost. "We'll play your game."
The web shimmered around them, tightening slightly—as Bingya's laughter echoed through the trees again. "Then let the game… begin."
Bingya's grotesque form began to ripple like disturbed water. The air shimmered with his shift, and within moments, the white spider had vanished—replaced by a tall, handsome young man draped in flowing silver robes. His white hair brushed his shoulders, and his skin gleamed unnaturally pale beneath the twilight hue of the grove. Only his eyes, gleaming with a chilling hunger, betrayed his true nature.
Astra blinked, momentarily stunned. "That's… cheating. That's cheating, right? You were scarier before."
"Does this face scare you less?" Bingya asked with a charming smile, his voice still echoing faintly with an inhuman tone. "Now then. The game begins. Fail… and I'll dine on both of you, slowly. It's been too long since I tasted blood infused with spiritual energy."
Bingya's eyes gleamed as he slowly stepped closer, letting his venomous words slither like snakes around them.
"The bloom you want only opens once every hundred years, always under a full moon."
"I once battled a sage of the Shidō rank and devoured his spirit whole."
"And this grove it didn't exist until I bled into this mountain's roots, seven hundred centuries ago."
Astra, arms still tangled in web remnants, whispered, "Okay, not gonna lie, that's very specific. Daita, guess smart. My life's on your logic now."
Daita didn't answer. His brow furrowed as he locked eyes with the demon. He thought aloud.
"If the flower blooms every hundred years, and you've been guarding it for seven centuries, that aligns. So… maybe true. You bled into the mountain and created this grove? Sounds like classic demon territory forging. But—"
He turned slightly. "A sage of the Shidō rank? That's nearly impossible. There are only a handful alive, and none would fall so easily." His eyes sharpened.
"That one's the lie."
Bingya raised a pale brow. "Oh? Are you sure?"
"I'm sure."
The demon's smile curled into something colder, but he finally nodded. "Correct…..One point to you. Two more rounds."
Astra let out a relieved gasp. "Nice! I mean horrifying but nice job!"
Bingya clapped slowly. "One round. You're not entirely useless." He stepped toward them again, eyes narrowed, and the silver mist around him thickened.
"Now… let's play deeper."
Bingya's eyes shimmered like polished silver as his voice dropped lower, more coaxing this time—as if he enjoyed weaving the tension into the very air.
"Let's continue. Second round," he murmured with a grin that stretched a little too wide. He paused, letting the silence linger.
"Once, long before I bore fangs and venom, I was the guardian spirit of this mountain."
"The flower you seek was once a gift from a god to me. A token of favor placed in my care."
"And no living human foolish enough to cross into this grove has ever left alive.
Astra tensed immediately. "I really, really don't like these options."
Daita crossed his arms, lips tightening. His gaze sharpened on Bingya's smirking face, then flicked toward the luminous flower blooming quietly on the snow-covered tree.
He muttered to himself, "A gift from a god…? that could be a lie. And also demons rarely receive gifts they take. Especially tier-seven monsters. That one's suspicious…"
He took a half step forward, eyes narrowing. "The second—"
But just as he was about to speak his final choice, Astra mumbled aloud, half to herself, "Strange… why don't I remember seeing this spider guy the last time I came here?"
Daita froze mid-sentence.
Astra blinked, rubbing her chin and looking around, clearly knowing the impact of her words. "Also, weren't the flowers a little less sparkly back then? I could've sworn they didn't shimmer like this… Wait, or maybe the moonlight was different…"
Astra blinked, pretending to look around, clearly knowing the impact of her words. "Also, weren't the flowers a little less sparkly back then? I could've sworn they didn't shimmer like this… Wait, or maybe the moonlight was different…"
"That's it," Daita said, voice hardening. "She's living. She's been here before—and she left. Which means…"
He turned to Bingya, his voice low and sharp as a blade. "The lie is the third one. A living has left this grove before. She's proof."
Bingya's smile faltered.
The trees creaked softly in the background as the mist around them tightened.
For a long moment, he said nothing then slowly, the demon tilted his head and laughed. Not the playful cackle from earlier, but a low, amused rumble that made Astra's skin crawl.
"Well done," he hissed, his fangs gleaming. "Seems even my webs can't catch a memory. So it was you who dared to enter my grove four moons ago? I remember now. A faint scent… too quick, too cautious. I was wondering who'd slipped through without falling into my trap."
The air shimmered, tension easing.
With a sudden snap and shimmer, the threads around Astra loosened, relaxing just enough to breathe again. She wobbled slightly in the tangled mess but didn't fall.
Hands still tangled, Astra huffed and planted her fists on her hips. "Yes, I was. So what? I didn't fall into your trap back then… Look at me! I did now…huh?"
Astra stopped mid-grumble, her breath catching when she noticed the change in Bingya's expression. His eyes had darkened not with anger, but something quieter and heavier. A quiet storm. She looked away, lips pressing shut.
Then, Bingya took a slow step back, his pale hands rising in a mockery of applause. "You've done well," he drawled, voice low and laced with amusement. "But now, for the final round…"
His gaze shifted no longer at Daita, but at Astra.
"You."
"W-Wait—what?" she stammered. "Me?! Why me?!
Bingya let out a dark, delighted chuckle, venom still lazily dripping from one fang. "Because you, little bird, managed to slip through my trap the last time. He took a step closer, voice curling like smoke. "Now that I've caught you now… I'd like to make that last lie a truth."
Astra swallowed.
"But," he said, raising a clawed finger, "you still have a chance. Answer this final one correctly, and you undo the truth I so dearly wish to make… and walk away with your lives. And the bloom."
Astra turned sharply to Daita, eyes wide in disbelief.
He stepped forward, jaw clenched. "That's not acceptable. It's not the rule. The game is between us. You should play the last round with me—just like the rest."
But Bingya tilted his head with mock innocence. "Oh? But I have two intruders here. Shouldn't she get a turn too?" His grin stretched unnaturally wide. "Besides… this is my territory. My rules."
He slowly turned back to Astra, whose knees locked as he leaned forward, his voice whispering through the cold. "Shall I begin?"