His fight began again the next day.

It began similarly enough to the preceding days. He worked on the farm and put a fresh edge to his weapons. With his food prepared and his midday meal done, he went east into the Tanglewood, ready to exterminate even more of the monsters that were swarming there. Olivia and Herbert had headed home the night before, with the [Guard] giving the girl an escort back to the shrine. At the very least, he was sure she had managed to get home okay.

The spiderlings were everywhere again, flooding in around him with stabbing limbs and dripping fangs. He lashed out at them with spear and axe, destroying them with casual skill. He suspected that both [Determined] and [Laborer] were now coming into effect when he faced them; their deaths seemed no less familiar or boring than pulling weeds or chopping away at a sablethorn bush. A part of him wanted to laugh about it, considering how, only a few months ago, this would have been a terrifying, lethal experience. Now it was just an inconvenience.

Then, suddenly, the spiderlings vanished.

Clay frowned, suddenly even more alert than he already was. Spiderling corpses littered the ground around and behind him. They should have been an irresistible lure for the young monsters; it had certainly drawn enough of them in before now. Why would they be hiding now?

The answer came a moment later as a shadow crossed above him. He looked up, and recognized the unnatural, gliding motion of an elder troll spider—followed closely by a second one.

Horror speared through him. They weren’t waiting for him anymore. The spiders were here; they’d come past Scout’s Hill—and they’d caught him in the open.

Not good. Not good at all.

Clay turned to run, the words of Firm Step coming to his lips immediately. He stowed the boar spear and brought out his bow, putting an arrow to the string. It wasn’t worth the pause to fire yet; he only hoped that he could finish the [Chant] before one or both of them spotted him. If he did, maybe he would be able to pull one of them from the ground. If not…

A screech tore through the sky above him, followed quickly by a second one. He tried to run faster, the [Chant] spilling from his lips. There was a large tree just ahead. If he could reach it, maybe he’d be able to hide beneath its branches. It might force them to get to ground level to hunt him; it was still bad, but at least it was better than facing them both in the sky. Just a few more strides and he could—

The web hit him square in the left shoulder, soaking through his shirt and bonding to the skin beneath. He had barely a heartbeat of terrible realization before it yanked him up and back, the sky rending in yet another scream. This time he thought he could hear triumph in it.

Desperation flooded him, but he forced himself to continue the [Chant]. Firm Step was almost finished, and if he could just…

Branches were snapping as it dragged him through them, and as he reached the end of the spell, he kicked out with both feet. He felt that same moment of uncertainty as if he was back on that cursed table, flailing for anything that he could brace against.

Then, just as the spell finished, his feet hit the trunk of a tree. He felt the power of the [Chant] fall over him, and his flight came to a sudden, brutal stop. He thought that something nearly cracked in his back, but he held firm, knowing that to release the spell would be his end.

{Fortitude increases by 1! Will increases by 1!}

Clay heard the triumphant scream cut off in a sudden squeak, as if someone had stepped on a mouse the size of a hunting dog. He drew the bowstring back to his ear and searched for a target, at least as best he could without moving his feet. It bobbed into sight a moment later, connected to his back by that thin thread. The pull had partially torn it from its glider; it was hanging from the sheet of spidersilk by a pair of limbs on its left side, while the right-side limbs flailed in an attempt to steady out again.

He shot the thing right in one of its eyes. The arrow went in up to the fletching, and it jerked in obvious shock and pain. It was a totally natural reaction, probably unavoidable.

It was also the worst possible response. The motion tore another leg loose from the glider, and any hope of remaining in the air vanished as the spidersilk flapped into a useless bit of thread. He felt a burst of joy as he saw the monster tumble from the sky.

He also felt a second web impact on his chest.

Clay had just enough time for his eyes to widen and his soul to brace before the second elder troll spider tried to pull him into the air.

Pain tore through him, followed by an utterly terrifying snap. For an instant, he thought it had been his back, and that he’d finally pushed himself a little too far. Then he realized he was moving, and he realized that the entire top half of the tree had broken loose. He was still anchored on it, and the weight of it dragged him down, preventing him from being yanked into the elder spider’s tender embrace.

He looked up at it and found that the thing had been better prepared for his trick. It still had both pairs of middle limbs attached to the glider, and even though it was wobbling, it wasn’t headed for the ground yet. The cord connecting him to it suddenly went slack, and he realized it had cut him loose; maybe it was planning on trying again after he’d fallen all the way back to the ground.

Clay drew and fired in a heartbeat, sending an arrow straight for it. Then he broke the connection with the falling tree and pushed off it, leaping for the nearest of its neighbors. The spider jerked itself to the side, and then Clay was crashing through the upper branches, his left hand grabbing for any purchase he could find.

His fingers met a branch solid enough to bear his weight a heartbeat later. He grabbed onto it long enough to swing forward onto a slightly lower branch, and then he was moving forward. It couldn’t hit him as easily, not among the branches, but that meant it knew exactly where he was hiding. The others had landed to try to finish things with limb and fang. There would not be much time.

He started the [Chant] of the Cycle of Return, his body still trembling from being yanked twice. There was no chance he’d survive a third pull, and less of a chance that he’d escape from two of them, even if the first was injured. It was time to change tactics.

A shadow fell over the tree, and the elder spider was there in all its horrific glory. The spear-limbs lashed out, striking down through the foliage to find purchase and seek prey. Clay glanced upwards, continuing his [Chant] through a tight grin. He could taste blood on his teeth as he let go of his bow and reached for his spear. Then he reared back and hurled it skyward, just as the elder spider bent to snap at him.

The spear drove up and into the thing, punching in so deep that the blade went in up to the crossguard in its shoulder. He saw it rear back, shocked and screaming, his weapon still embedded in its flesh. Clay ducked around the trunk of the tree, still muttering arcane words under his breath as he raced out along a different branch. Above, the thing scrabbled in the branches, getting ready for another leap.

It had just started the motion when Clay finished his [Chant]. The Cycle of Return burned to life along his arm as he reached out and pulled.

There was a terrible tearing sound, as his spear drilled itself into and through the spider’s body, pulled to him by a magic Clay had never expected to use in battle. He sent a feeling of gratitude along to Olivia for suggesting the [Chant]’s other possible uses, and grinned as the spear burst from its belly and ichor rained down from the wounded spider. Its leap became a tumble, and it fell in a wounded tumble towards the forest floor.

{Insight increases by 1!}

Clay caught his spear, covered in ichor as it was. He wavered for a moment, still aching and sore from the effort. Then he scrambled back along another branch, looking for a good place to descend.

Below him, the spider seemed to struggle to right itself. Two of its right limbs weren’t moving, save to sway listlessly as it thrashed. Another on the left side had been caught beneath it when it fell and snapped. The two ends of the wound that had impaled it were both still leaking ichor, occasionally spraying it as it tried to flip itself over.

It had just barely managed that feat when Clay threw himself from the tree, descending with the spear in his hand. He fell on it like a thunderbolt made of iron and wood, flesh and fury. The impact met the thing just behind its head and smashed it to the ground.

{Elder Troll Spider slain! Soul increases by 30}

The monster continued to crumple in on itself beneath him, and Clay freed his spear with a grunt. Where had the second thing fallen? Was it airborne again? If so, he didn’t know if he could fight it. Another pulling contest would kill him, prepared or not, [Determined] or not. When he searched the pieces of sky that he could see through the branches, though, he saw nothing. No webs, no elder eldritch creature ready to slay him.

He did, however, hear scrabbling and muted screeching. Gingerly moving off the dead elder spider, Clay started off in a half-jog towards the noises. Maybe if he could find it still on the ground…

Clay came to a stop a few moments later. The first spider had fallen from the sky, straight into the embrace of an old oak tree. Its limbs had shattered, but worse than that, one stubborn branch had speared it straight through the body, pinning it to the oak beneath.

It still struggled and fought, however, its remaining intact limbs clawing at the tree that held it fast. Ichor bled from it, painting the side of the tree. He saw its eyes fixate on him, and a limb lashed in his direction, but he simply stepped back and watched it thrash a little more.

Eventually, it went limp.

{Elder Troll Spider slain! Soul increases by 30}

He put his back to the tree, breathing in relief. He’d been ambushed, but he’d survived, and now two more of the elders were down. The more he could kill, the more vulnerable the Lair would be. How many more of those things could he kill?

Even as he was tempted to relax, however, he heard shuffling sounds in the surrounding forest. The spiderlings might have fled when their superiors were about, but now the corpses were drawing fresh attention. Standing upright again, and trying to avoid thinking of how badly his muscles were strained already, he set himself. His day was not done yet.

It was late when Clay returned home, and he was in a foul mood.

The spiderlings had flocked to the corpses like vultures, dumb and blind with their hunger. He’d ended dozens of them in only minutes and had left the two elder corpses surrounded by carpets of the younger monsters. It would make a grim feast for whatever scavengers came afterwards, but that had been a secondary concern.

He’d spent a few moments searching for his bow during a lull in the fighting, and discovered that the cursed elder monster he’d killed first had come down on top of it. The bow had snapped in half, beyond his ability to fix it, robbing him of any long range tactics aside from his sling. True, the slingstones were more than enough to deal with spiderlings, but he’d need a better option for the bigger abominations.

Which meant, unfortunate as it was, he’d need to take a break from hunting the next day. Clay hoped it wouldn’t spell in a wave of spiders escaping the Tanglewood, but he’d already noticed the flood of monsters lessening. He sighed and told himself he might make up for it in the future.

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For now, he needed to rest, if he could manage. There was too much to do, but he still forced himself to study the pages with the [Chants] on them for a little while before he fell into bed. After all, the things had saved him today. Maybe the next one he learned would allow him to down the spiders without almost dying first.

A man could hope.

He caught sight of Herbert riding his horse up the trail from town, and he smiled. The [Guard] looked both relieved and annoyed to find him on the road to Pellsglade, and he turned the horse to ride alongside him.

“You again, you fool?”

Clay raised an eyebrow at him. He nodded. “Yeah, kind of.”

Herbert grunted. “What does that mean? You weren’t hunting monsters again?”

“I was. Problem was, this time they were hunting me.” He told the [Guard] about his encounter with the things, and the [Guard] sat up very straight in his saddle.

“That…does not sound good. Is that the first time they’ve pulled that trick?”

Clay nodded. “Yeah. In a way, it means good things, because I’ve got them worried. In others…”

“It’s probably an even worse idea for the baron to encounter one of those things.” Herbert shivered. “Are you sure you are winning this war, Clay? Gods know, you’re a brave one, but in things like this, you need to use your head. There’s no shame in not being able to handle it alone.”

Clay walked along for a stretch, thinking it over. “Each fight I win, I grow stronger. I’m level five now, something I don’t think any [Commoner] has gotten to before. They don’t have an infinite supply of those creatures either; they might spawn a thousand spiderlings, but they can’t grow into elders overnight. If they keep throwing them at me, that’ll just give me an opening to get to where the little ones are being created. I just have to keep fighting.”

Herbert looked at him with a jaded eye. “And how many of those fights have you won without taking any damage at all? Even I can tell you are limping along today. How close were they to eating you, and then spreading however they like?”

The questions silenced Clay for another long stretch of road. He wasn’t wrong, though Clay was still rebellious at the idea of sitting back and waiting for adventurers to appear. Even if they arrived the next day, they wouldn’t have the experience that he had with the Tanglewood. They might have developed their talents fighting an entirely different kind of foe, and they were just as mortal as he was. Who said it wouldn’t be them that ended up feeding the spiders?

He looked up, and Herbert was still staring at him, his brow furrowed. Clay looked back ahead at the road. “You’re not wrong, Herb, but fighting is the only thing I can do now. Giving up might save me, but would it save the baron? Or the rest of the village? Those things are coming for us sooner or later. Might as well go for them first.”

Herbert rode along in silence for a few more moments. Then he snorted. “Herb, huh? Who told you to call me that?”

Clay rolled his eyes. “We’re talking about a wave of monsters, and you’re worried about that?”

“A man has to have priorities, son.” The [Guard] snorted again. Clay could see him shaking his head out of the corner of his eye. “I can stall the baron a little longer. I think he’s not excited about going into the Tanglewood, anyway. He seems to have some idea of what those screams are coming from, and he has no intention of facing them without a good number of adventurers riding with him. The man might be a bit pompous, but he has a good head on his shoulders—unlike some I know.”

He chuckled at the implication. “Fair enough.” Clay looked up at him again. “He sent you to check on me again?”

“This morning? Hardly.” Herbert gave him a knowing look. “A certain other young lass cornered me and sent me on my way. It was either that, or she’d have come herself.”

Clay felt his face turn red. “I… see.” He tried to focus on the road. “Well, you can tell her I’m on my way.”

“I will. Hopefully, the walk will mean you won’t be limping along like you have a hangover by the time you get there.” Herbert urged his horse forward, bringing the animal up to a trot. He yelled back over his shoulder. “Good fortune to you, you bold idiot!”

“And to you, Herb!” Clay chuckled again as Herbert made a rude gesture, and then sighed. He tried to straighten up, feeling another spike of pain run through him. Why hadn’t he been able to find any [Chants] that healed things, anyway?

It took him another half hour of walking to reach town, and by then he’d only winced a little with each step. By the time he reached Pellsglade, he was beginning to regret not catching a ride with Herbert. The horse might have left him sore, but at least it would have gotten him into town faster.

As he limped into sight of the shrine, he caught sight of a familiar figure in a novice’s robe waiting for him. He tried not to grin too much as Olivia hurried towards him. “I’m all right. I was just coming to see you.”

Olivia seemed unconvinced as she stopped short of him. He almost thought that she was holding herself back a little as she looked him over. “I…heard the screams. What happened? I thought you were just fighting the spiderlings.”

“The elder spiders had other plans.” Clay shifted a little on his feet. A burst of pain made him grimace. “I handled it, but they got some hits in first.”

She nodded, her face settling into a determined look. “I have some poultices in the shrine, which may help. Come with me.”

Clay blinked and took a step back. “I’m fine, Olivia. I mean it. I just need a little more time to…”

“You don’t have to spend that time in pain.” She stepped forward and took hold of his arm. “Now come with me. You can tell me about how it happened, and we can think of what we should do next.”

He tried protesting, but she didn’t seem to be listening very well. Instead, the novice towed him along toward the shrine. Clay tried not to notice a handful of village women who caught sight of him being pulled along, and the way they whispered among themselves. Some of them seemed to be giggling.

Clay sighed and gave up. Hopefully, it wouldn’t be too bad of a problem in the future. He wasn’t looking forward to his next conversation with his mother, though.

“It is fortunate that we talked about the [Chants], then. Apparently, you have caused enough trouble for them that they see you as a real threat.”

Clay grinned a little, and then winced as Olivia spread the poultice on another spot on his back. She’d insisted on him taking off his shirt so she could apply it, and her eyes had widened slightly at the mass of bruises that covered his chest and back. Fortunately, it seemed like the Rector was once again avoiding the library, or else Clay was reasonably sure that he would have had some questions about what his Novice was doing with some random farmer with his shirt off.

Not that anyone would have suspected them of anything untoward now. The poultice burned a little as it went on, but then it quickly faded to more of a mild tingle. It did not, however, stop smelling faintly like spoiled milk. He sighed. Hopefully, he didn’t drift too close to anyone from town after this visit, or else they would report back to his mother that he wasn’t bathing.

He pulled his weary mind back from those thoughts. “Yeah, without those [Chants] I’d have been dead for certain. Even with them, it was a close thing.”

Olivia was quiet for a moment, her hands withdrawing. Then she spread the poultice on another spot, making him grunt. “Are you certain that you can keep up this fight? I’ve heard that the baron has received a response from the guild of adventurers. They are sending a team to investigate. It should only be a handful of weeks.”

Clay sighed again, his mind turning it over. “I can’t risk stopping. What if they come right when the next frenzy starts? Or what if they run into the next elder spider hunting party? The ones they send might not be expecting that level of aggression. They could be wiped out before they even realize what’s happening.”

“If the next hunting party catches you unprepared, you could die. Where would they be then?” She kneaded the poultice into his back a bit more roughly than he thought was necessary. “If you are dead when they come, they would be in just as much danger, if not more. If you still live, you can at least warn them.”

He paused, realizing he’d never even asked himself if he would need to hide from the adventurers when they arrived. Clay had just automatically assumed that he’d need to hide his actions from them. If he did reveal himself, would they accept his help? Would they attempt to arrest him? Or would they work with him to end the threat? What if they were only coming to hunt down the supposed Rogue, and not to help with the monsters at all?

Olivia broke the silence before he could come to a decision. “Are you planning on working with them? I thought you would appreciate the help.”

“It’s a good question. I suppose it depends on why they are here. If they are just here to kill the Lair, then I’ll get them to it as quickly as I can. If they are here to track down whoever has been messing with the monsters…”

“I see.” Olivia worked her hands into a knot of pained muscle on his left shoulder, forcing a grunt from him. “You don’t know them. It would be hard to anticipate their reaction.”

“Yeah.”

She sighed behind him. Then she stepped around him, her green eyes locking onto his own. “Allow me to help you, then. If they arrive and I decide they are trustworthy, and you show signs of hiding from them just to satisfy your own pride, I will go to them. I will not let you fight alone, and as I cannot join you yet, I will make sure the ones who can are by your side.”

The steel in her voice took him aback. “Olivia, they might try to put me under arrest and drag me back to the capital. What if the only ‘help’ they give me is putting me in a cage?”

“I have every confidence that you will never allow yourself to be contained for long. I have just as much confidence that you would rather risk your life than take a chance on getting help on uncomfortable terms.” She paused, brushing her hands through the container of poultice on her desk. “You are a strong man, but a stubborn one. I won’t allow you to be killed by your own ambitions. Or do you intend for me to stay silent and then feel the guilt of the choice over your grave?”

Her question brought him up short. “I’m just doing what I think needs to be done.”

“As will I. Do you deny me the same choice?” She held his eyes for a moment. When he looked away, she nodded, and started to spread the poultice over a particularly ugly bruise on his sternum. “All the same, if you will not wait, then we should at least plan for success. Have you been able to access any further [Chants]? You said you increased your level again.”

Clay felt a little bit of relief at the change of topic. There really wasn’t anything he could do to stop her from telling the adventurers, so he supposed he would need to depend on them either being entirely trustworthy or extremely shifty. Either way, it was back to business. “Not yet. I’ve been trying to study when I get home, but I haven’t made much progress.”

“You should make it a priority. Containing the swarm is important, but if they are hunting you, you’ll need more than small magic at your disposal.” She rubbed her thumb a little harder into the bruise, making him grit his teeth. “Your [Memory] should be able to reach what a newly called [Oracle] or [Mage] can gain, and there are several [Chants] that the manual recommends for them when they run short of [Charms] to use. Spells such as the Canticle of Ice should be within your reach now.”

He nodded. The concept of having actual combat magic at his beck and call seemed unreal, but he had to admit, it would make the next ambush much easier—whether or not it was the elder spiders attacking him, or him attacking them. “I’ll put more effort into it from now on.”

Then he paused, feeling slightly uncomfortable. “And Olivia? Thanks. For everything.”

Curiously, a slight blush appeared on her cheeks. Her touch on his chest went from firm and businesslike to soft, almost affectionate. Just for a moment. “You are welcome.”

Then she pulled back, avoiding his eyes. She wiped her hands off on a cloth. “You should be ready now. Go ahead and dress yourself. Did you need anything else?”

He felt a blush rise in his own cheeks, but he grabbed his shirt. The smell did not improve as he slid it over his head, but the soreness lessened slightly as the ointment burned. “No. I just…wanted you to know what was happening.”

“I appreciate your concern.” When he managed to get the shirt over his head, he saw her standing with her hands folded, her posture upright and proper as any Rector could hope to be. Only the red in her cheeks betrayed her at all. “Please be careful, traveler. May good fortune go with you.”

Clay gave her a crooked grin. “And with you, Olivia.” Her blush deepened a little more, and she nodded. He gathered his things and started for the exit to the shrine. His heart felt curiously light, but that was fine by him. He needed some good news, after all.

He made it to the edge of town—trying not to notice the way some of the villagers were smiling at him knowingly or whispering as he passed—before he noticed a familiar-looking figure on a horse trotting towards him. “Twice in one day, Herb? I thought you were finished with me.”

“Not quite. I just needed to go make sure of some things.” The [Guard] pulled up his horse and swung it around to face the same direction as him. “Want a ride back? You are looking like you’ve loosened up a bit.”

“A bit.” Clay gave him a grateful look. “I’ll take you up on that, thanks.” Herbert waited while he clambered on the horse behind him, and then urged the horse into a trot. Soon, the fields and forest were passing by on either side of them. Even the occasional bump and jolt was worth it. Maybe there would be enough time to study the [Chants] before he got to the farm work for the day.

“So you mentioned that one of those things landed on your bow?” The question surprised Clay out of his own thoughts.

“Yeah. Broke it clean in half.” He grimaced. His ambushes were going to be complicated without that thing. The sling was nice for the younger spiders, but he doubted he was going to be knocking elder spiders from the sky with it.

“Well, I figure that getting a new one might stretch your coin a little too far, so I took a look around the baron’s armory. Just in case there were some things that could be a fit. Check the saddlebags on the right.”

Clay frowned in surprise and then looked over the side. He saw a bow strapped alongside the horse, one that seemed far thicker than his hunting bow had been. It even had a smooth leather carrying case, something that would make it easy to carry and stow as needed. “Is that—”

“Just an old warbow that the baron had lying around.” Herbert shrugged. “I mentioned that someone I knew had lost their bow, and the armorer gave it to me. Seems like it won’t be missed. Same with the knife on the other side.”

Frowning, Clay checked and found a long, heavy knife in a sheath there. It looked like someone had taken a butcher’s cleaver and whittled it down to something more easily carried. When he drew it slightly, the edge glimmered with lethality. “What is this thing?”

“Just a bush knife. Nothing that anyone would use for serious fights, but it could be handy if you needed to chop through some things. Better than a woodaxe, certainly.” Herbert’s elaborately casual comment made Clay grin. He sheathed the knife again and straightened back up.

“Well thank you, Herb. I’ll make sure to put them to good use.”

Herbert snorted. “Maybe you should put the local river to use first, farmboy. You smell like a cow farted, and you took the smell for an inspiration.”

Clay couldn’t help chuckling to himself, and tried not to grunt as the [Guard] urged the horse to go a little faster. It had been a good day, after all.