Day 14, 8:00 AM

I stare at the stairs leading down. Floor fourteen; I can’t believe the kids made it this far. Here, on the thirteenth floor, even Gila had to join the fighting, and she somehow snatched a level out of it. Most miraculously, none of them suffered a scratch.

I don’t know how. Dumb luck, I guess.

“Are you sure about this?” I look at them, and they nod, their faces stern and determined, like those of professional mercenaries. Except that professional mercenaries have seen a fair share of people die, and would know when to stop, even if they were on a winning streak.

Yeah, no. Not all of them were smart. A fair share of them died to greed and stupidity, and I don’t want the kids to suffer the same fate. I close my eyes.

I get it, they need a bit more money, but it would be safer to leave now. Another part of me argues the point. And then what? They come back alone, without me, and delve deeper? They might die on the twelfth floor, maybe even eleventh. And they sure as hell won’t come back dozens of times to grind the first five or six floors.

“Fine, let’s go.” I hate myself as I say the words, but there’s no protecting them from themselves. What will be will be. At least if we gather enough money, Gila won’t come back, and with their party two members short, Fred and Lucy should steer away from this death-trap.

With a heavy heart, I take the point, like always, and the pit of the stairway looks like a gaping abyss about to swallow us. We reach the bottom, and the floor looks no different from the previous one, or the ones before it. The illumination is back to full, meaning the floor is also full, but that was to be expected.

The floors were getting brighter, and I could tell we were slower than the previous crew that delved and cleared this portion of the dungeon. I stop myself from seeing the fact in an ominous light. Given how things were going, it was expected that at some point we’d reach a full floor.

I take a step towards the forest, noting the squish my boot makes and translating it into how slippery the terrain is.

“Watch out, it’s slick.” I warn the rest, and I can feel the kids rolling their eyes behind my back. Something glints in the forest ahead at neck height, and I stop. I strain my eyes, taking half a step back, and I catch the shine at just the right angle. A nearly invisible strand bends light just the right way for me to see it.

“There’s some spider web ahead. Be careful.”

I take my time approaching. The web is unlike anything I’ve ever seen. I can’t even call it a web, the spider scattered its silky threads all over the place at different heights, ranging from ankles to a full foot above my head. I reach the nearest one and pluck a leaf to test how sticky it is.

The leaf touches it, but doesn’t stick. Instead, it sinks, and the web slashes clean through it. The worst part is I feel no pressure.

“Watch out, these are really thin and strong. They are probably sharp enough to cut you.”

I break a branch and try it, but the thread bends, it’s not sharp enough to sever wood. I’m about to draw it back, when my keen intellect makes me try something else. The branch slides across the thread, and my hand moves forward without resistance, followed by the top half of the stick falling to the ground.

“Stand back.” I look at the kids, and they are staring at me with confused frowns, confusing me in turn.

“Do you know something about this?” I ask, and they shake their heads.

“They are just threads, why don’t you cut them, and we can continue on our way?” Fred asks, and I can’t believe that the dumb kid doesn’t see the danger.

“I was about to do that, but I need you to understand one thing. These things are dangerous, they can kill you in an instant, and if we miss any, we might die. Do you understand?”

They nod, but understand nothing. I feel like screaming at them. They have no idea what death entails. The pain, the misery, the helplessness. I hold back a sigh and cut the strand with my wooden sword. The blade slashes through it with no difficulty. The thread twangs like a bowstring, snapping left and right, trimming the bushes.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

Something else rustles high above me and I jump back, scattering the kids as I do so. A yellow and green orb-weaver dives, hanging off a thread, another strand of silk held between its frontmost forelegs, aimed to cleave me in half.

I splatter the damn cat-sized thing with my staff before it runs away. Its body explodes, but not before I commit its appearance to memory. Five pairs of legs and four short tentacles ending with bladelike-stingers around its maw make up its appendages.

I examine what little’s left of the body I slammed into the ground, and find a whole feeder tentacle.

It’s not venomous. I frown at the realization, however, I almost immediately know why. Given its hunting practice, it needs no venom. The spider-thing’s prey doesn’t get caught in the web, nor offers resistance. Even if the unfortunate survivor merely loses a limb, the spider could just safely eat what’s left behind, or decapitate the prey with its bungee jump.

I glance back at the kids.

“Whenever I or anyone else spots the spider-silk, I take the point. This thing is too dangerous for you.”

Fred is about to argue.

“That, or we leave now. Got it?”

They cross their arms and sulk, but I don’t care.

“Got it?” I turn towards the exit and take an intimidating step before they stop me.

“We got it.”

“Come on, I want another level.” Gila pleads, and I almost laugh at the joke that is not a joke.

“Fine,” I grumble, and reluctantly let Lucy take the lead.

“Wait.” I stop her, severing all the visible treads, making sure no new spiders rain on our heads.

The orb-weaver’s territory is surprisingly small, but it’s riddled with traps and splatters of dried ichor, where the floor’s other denizens unwittingly stumbled upon death.

Can I make a weapon out of this? It could be pretty lethal, if I could harness the thread’s destructive potential the right way without decapitating myself or losing digits. There was that flail proficiency, but it would take me years to get it all on my own without an advanced teacher.

The floor plays out much the same as the previous one, with two exceptions, the fights are closer together, with less time to rest and recover, and the spider-silks appear from time to time. The latter isn’t much of a problem. I take point and deal with the strands and the decapitation-prone orb-weavers.

My unease subsides, but I’m looking for an opportunity to let one of the kids get a light injury, so that I could send them back home with their loot. With what we gather here, the haul should be big enough for Gila to cash out and get on track to becoming a tailor.

While I’m counting coin, Lucy is fighting a centipede, a good chance to kick them out, since the crawlies are fast and come in groups of three to five. They aren’t venomous either, and while their jaws are sharp, they aren’t lethal enough to kill with a single blow.

The bushes rustle, the second one is about to appear from Fred’s side. He can take it, regardless of which tiny mutation the monster has developed. So far, mutations have been pretty tame on centipedes. The monsters can get faster, sturdier, or bigger.

Fred lunges forward to intercept his centipede, and I catch a rustle from the other side. The bug would flank Lucy, but she’s fairly good at dodging multiple opponents, so I let her take on two of them. She has handled tougher fights on the thirteenth floor.

The centipede appears, but Lucy was keeping an eye out for it and deftly dodges the surprise attack. The girl is graceful, not just because of a high attribute, but she has a natural affinity for using her body the right way. Like she has another set of eyes telling her how to move and where to shift to find safety.

Her prescience reminds me of Danger Sense, one of the most powerful skills I’ve seen. A skill so good I’ve considered becoming a bodyguard multiple times and plowing through the class just to get it.

Another bush rustles, a third centipede heading for Lucy. It would be her first time fighting three against one at the same time, but I’m confident she can handle it with nothing but minor injuries. Fred’s the problem.

He smashes his centipede with a loud crack, and he could run to reinforce Lucy. Luckily, he is taking his time, certain I will jump to his cousin’s help.

As much as it grates my gut, I step forth a breath too late. I won’t be in time to reinforce Lucy, but I will be there to keep the centipedes off her once she suffers an injury. With Initial Emergency Treatment and Advanced Healing, I’m confident nothing bad will happen to her, and I know I can smash three centipedes in a matter of moments.

As expected, the centipede throws itself at Lucy, but the deft girl twists and lets it fly past her. She’s excellent. I’m seriously tempted to ask her to join me. While I have no interest in conquering the world this time, I will do everything I can to advance Anarchist, since I carry the class and its skills from one life to the next.

Something thuds behind me, interrupting my thoughts. Lucy is doing too well, so I turn around in time to see the other thud as it happens. Gila’s headless body lands in the bushes, spraying blood like a fountain.

I’m used to gore, but my stomach twists. I wanted to keep them safe, to help them. How?

A string of red dots catches my eye, and I spot a thread. It’s coated in Gila’s lifeblood.