Caelum drew in a long breath of the forest air, letting the faint taste of damp wood and greenery settle on his tongue. There was something about this place—the forbidden forest—that constantly filled him with unease, yet he couldn't deny the freedom it gave him. No rules. No clan breathing down his neck. No weakling's cage.
He stretched his arms, ready to enjoy the little moment of calm, when suddenly every hair on his body bristled. His instincts screamed. Without even thinking, he flung himself to the side, rolling through the underbrush, scraping his elbows raw but softening the impact.
Danger.
He snapped his gaze toward the source of the warning—and froze.
A spider. Not just any spider, but that spider. The same grotesque, towering creature he'd barely escaped weeks ago. Its glossy black body shimmered faintly in the sunlight that filtered through the canopy, legs long and sharp like sickles.
Caelum's lips twisted into something between a grin and a snarl. "You again. Damn you," he hissed. "You think I'll sit here and kindly offer myself up this time? Heh… no. I've been training." His eyes sharpened, madness flickering behind them. "Just hand me your head, will you?"
The spider stood unmoving, its cluster of eyes glinting faintly. For an instant, Caelum swore it… smiled.
His stomach dropped.
And then he heard it—tap. tap. tap. Heavy, deliberate footsteps, like claws pressing into the earth. He turned sharply—another spider emerged from the shadows. Then another. And another. Until four of them flanked the first, their bodies looming like black towers.
"Shit…" His breath caught. "Don't tell me… I've stumbled into their nest?"
The grin vanished from his face.
The logical thought was immediate—Run. His muscles tensed to sprint, but then his gaze locked with the first spider, the one that had hunted him before. In its stillness, Caelum saw something cruel, something almost human.
It was gloating.
Something inside him snapped. His fear, his trembling weakness, all of it cracked and fell away. He straightened, chest rising, eyes burning. "At the very least…" his voice was low, steady, "…I'll drag you down to hell with me."
His lips curved into a crooked smile. "Actually—I'm curious. Does your blood taste good?"
The spiders hesitated, their hairy legs twitching, as if momentarily stunned by this boy's madness.
"I bet it doesn't," Caelum continued, licking his lips. "But we'll never know unless I try, right?"
The silence broke. All four spiders surged forward, legs scything through the air at terrifying speed.
Caelum's heart leapt into his throat. Too fast.
One leg cleaved through his guard, slamming into his side. He braced for bone-shattering pain—but though it hurt like hell, his body held. His skin rippled faintly with the resilience of the tree essence he had absorbed.
A hoarse laugh escaped him. "Oh… I forgot. Trees can be sturdy too."
The spiders froze, turning their many eyes toward the largest one. Their silent exchange was clear as day. Didn't you say he was weak?
Caelum didn't give them time to reconsider. He ducked beneath another leg, rolling to his feet, his senses sharp. His breath came steady now, no longer panicked.
The fight began in earnest.
---
The spiders attacked in a coordinated rush—legs stabbing, webs slicing through the air with whistling speed. Caelum darted between the trees, his body flowing with practiced movement. His camouflage shimmered faintly, breaking their line of sight just enough to throw off their rhythm.
But it wasn't easy. Every brush of those hairy legs left a burning welt on his skin. His clothes were shredded in places, his body bruised. They're too fast. Too strong. If I slip once… I'm done.
Yet as the minutes passed, Caelum's grin returned. These weren't intelligent hunters. Their coordination was clumsy. They paused mid-attack, hesitated at feints, and left themselves open far too often. If he were stronger, he could have wiped them out already.
Still, survival was enough.
"Do you think you can tire me out?" he taunted, darting between two trees. "You're wrong. I could go on forever. This whole place is my weapon."
Roots twisted at his command, slowing the spiders. Branches bent unnaturally, giving him cover. He was surrounded, yes, but he wasn't prey anymore—he was a shadow among the trees, untouchable, mocking them with every near miss.
Caelum's blood sang. His fear was gone, replaced by exhilaration. His grin widened until it was feral.
Then he made a decision.
I'll take one down.
The smallest spider—slightly behind the rest, its legs less coordinated—was his target. He studied its movements, the slight delay in its strikes, the way it hesitated before shooting webs. The weak link.
But as he shifted toward it, the others suddenly stopped. Their bodies stiffened. The air changed.
His pupils shrank.
"Wait—"
Fwish!
From all directions, near-invisible threads shot through the air, glistening faintly in the sunlight. A deadly net.
He twisted aside just in time to avoid one strand, and watched in horror as it sliced clean through a tree trunk behind him. The massive tree toppled with a thunderous crash, sheared like paper.
Cold sweat drenched his back. One touch and I'd be minced.
The spiders closed in, their trap perfect.
Caelum's grin returned, sharper than ever. "What? You think you're the only ones with tricks?"
He pressed his palm against the bark at his side. "Let me show you what a real skill looks like."
---
His body shimmered, blurring into the trunk. Improved Tree Camouflage. The spiders' many eyes darted wildly as his presence slipped from their senses.
Then—movement. A faint rustle. He triggered Leafy Disguise, gliding noiselessly to a new position, weaving through the threads with inhuman precision.
And then, his voice rang out from the shadows.
"Thorn Burst!"
The ground trembled. From the earth and roots beneath, jagged wooden spikes exploded upward like a storm of spears.
The spiders shrieked—an ear-piercing, alien sound—as their legs were impaled, bodies skewered mid-leap. Blood, thick and black, spattered the forest floor. They writhed violently, but the thorns only dug deeper, holding them fast.
The largest spider thrashed, screeching louder than the rest. Its cluster of eyes locked onto Caelum, wide with rage and disbelief.
Caelum stepped from the shadows, chest heaving, sweat dripping from his chin. His grin never faltered.
"Bravo, Last Heir," the guide's voice whispered in his head, smooth and proud. "You lured them into your range, turned their trap into your execution ground. Such cunning… such potential. You truly are the—"
The voice broke, glitching, words cutting into static.
Caelum's smirk slipped for a moment. "The… what?" he muttered. But the guide gave no answer.
His gaze turned back to the impaled spiders, their struggling slowing. His grin returned, darker this time.
"Well. That can wait." He licked his lips. "Right now… I'm more interested in spider dinner."
The forest was silent save for the fading shrieks of his prey.