Spiders. Spiders never changed—at least in taste.

It never really got any better. Spiders for breakfast, spiders for lunch, spiders for dinner. Everywhere they went, there were spiders. And the things spiders ate.

Those really didn’t taste much better either. Mireille could almost sympathize with the oversized bugs—if the nasty cave rats, cave bats, and lizards were all they had to eat, she could understand why they invaded the mines above.

Humans tasted like chicken, right? I think I’ve heard that. I could go for some chicken right now…

Wait, where did that thought come from? The [Seamstress] stopped in place, mildly concerned. She was filthy, hungry and tired, but she did still need to focus—navigation was her task.

“Mireille, is there something ahead?” Marie asked, following behind her.

“Oh, nothing. Just thinking on lunch. Or dinner. Which one are we on anyways?”

She heard a long groan. Olivia. “No idea—is it even night or day?”

“Tell me about it, I swear, when we get out, my sleep is going to be so—”

She paused, feeling a touch on the webs. Her webs. Mireille was always attached to webs now, listening and guiding their group. And she grimaced. Just the touch was enough to remind her of the taste, and she quickly signaled the others with covert tugs on their clothing.

Silence, we go in again.

And then they moved, Mireille, Olivia, and Marie. Expert spider hunters. They really had been here a while. The formation was practiced now—Olivia stalked forward with a subtle dance to her steps, and Marie matched them, from further away. The [Doctor] also had the boon on her, seeing as she was the only one who ever got close.

This group of monsters was small, just normal giant spiders. Olivia sneaked forward in darkness, guided forward by a thread from Mireille, and Marie’s guiding hand. Dance and thread and the [Doctor] moved unerringly, seeing nothing.

But Mireille saw everything.

Once the [Doctor] was close enough, Mireille signaled her to stop and started weaving traps. And Marie started dropping rocks.

The [Lady] had gotten faster at casting, apparently thanks to some sort of skill. They had a system of sorts—spiders were first trapped for an instant in sudden bursts of cloth, then a rock crushed them while they were stunned from surprise.

Then the [Doctor] cleaned up survivors, activating her blinding light.

Splat. Splat. Splat. Slice. Then the little ones.

And another group was dead. Man, they really don’t change.

[Quick seamwork! Excellent fittings for the clients!]

[Level up: You have reached Seamstress level 15! Congratulations!]

[2 Skill points gained!]

[Progress towards next level: 0%]

[Tier 2 class upgrade unlocked! 5 different options available!]

And Mireille stopped in place. Finally. It had slowed down so much, she feared she wouldn’t make it for a day yet. They had become experienced, practiced—and killing spiders had turned into a routine. Which meant no more big experience gains.

But it's here.

She stood in place, frozen, then looked at her options. Three common ones, which she discarded right away, not even worthy of consideration. Leveling speed was everything.

That left her two uncommon ones, and she began to parse them, breath held.

[Makeshift Seamstress], [Combat Seamstress].

And she let her breath out as fast as it had stopped. Mireille felt… disappointed. Still, she looked them over quickly, giving them a chance. The first one was for making quick works of clothing, then discarding them soon afterward. The [Seamstress] gritted her teeth—not what she wanted. Who wanted to be known as a [Seamstress] of one-time-use clothing?

She had first grown worried when she got the [Makeshift Clothing] skill, and it had proven an ill omen. Skills often hinted at the paths being trod. And the second option… She hesitated. It’s better. I could almost imagine taking it, but it would lock me into violence.

She was not Fayette—she did not want to necessarily carve a bloody swathe through her life. Violence was a means to an end. Something to use with precision, rather like the [Doctor's] scalpel. No—she was doing well here right now, but that was not due to her capabilities at violence.

It was because there were webs everywhere, threads she could use. And the spiders who made them. Oh, she hated them. The taste still lingered, but also…

She was almost starting to respect the fiends—they were just so efficient. In the caves you could barely find anything else to eat or kill, because the spiders always got them first. And then spread out further, looking for more. So efficient, so fast.

“Mireille, something up?” Marie asked, finally noticing her silence. The combat was done, but the [Seamstress] had just been standing there, looking at the results. A small passage full of fresh, fuzzy white corpses, bleeding black ichor.

She shook her head. “Marie, you didn’t upgrade your class at 15, right? There’s a chance for better stuff later?”

The [Lady] hesitantly nodded, sympathy in her eyes. “You got it then? Not the options you wanted?”

“No—but I’ll wait. It’s not a race.”

Marie patted her on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, if you’ve got a plan to change things somehow, then you can usually get something. But just doing the same thing won’t be enough.”

Mireille eyed the chamber. She had been hesitating on this, but the final push had come. Olivia was carving up the spiders with a knife, extracting something into her bottles. Is that where those pills come from?

She shook her head, then stepped in, joining the [Doctor]. Doing some collecting of her own—and she did find them. Her target. She quickly tucked them into a pocket before the others saw.

Olivia raised her head and an eyebrow. “You doing collecting of your own? I can share.”

Mireille hummed. “Just a bit of extra spice for lunch. Let’s get moving.”

Olivia made a face, then stood up and turned her lantern off. Mireille cleaned her hands against her hems, probably only getting them dirtier, then signaled their team forward with a few tugs of thread. Then they started walking forward again, back in silence and darkness. But they didn’t miss any steps or slow. Routine. It was all becoming routine. Have to change my routine just a bit…

She really did like how efficient she was here in the caverns and dark—who didn't like feeling important? Mireille’s needle pierced forward into the webbing, she got a layout, chose a route, walked forward, then removed her needle, then moved it forward… It was getting repetitive, but relaxing too.

But it was now routine, which meant time was passing. When she remembered that, she started to feel anxious again.

Fighting could only stave it off for so long.

Fayette has to be near, right? It just can’t be that long anymore, we’ve been moving so fast now, there’s been fewer spiders and Marie said—

Her thoughts paused. For the past few hours… there really had been fewer spiders. Just some small nests here and there. Why?

She quickened her steps, and her needle weaved forward with more agitation. Webs, webs, rocks and darkness—all around her, but maybe there would be something…

“Mireille, did you find a lead?” Marie asked, hurrying forward to catch up.

The [Seamstress] shook her head, then remembered that Marie couldn’t see that and answered. “Maybe. Just keep an eye out for any caverns that feel… off. Think about it. Fayette is trapped down here, in a spider-infested cave. What would she do?”

“Bunker down for survival?” Marie offered, unsure.

Mireille smiled to herself. “No, no. Before here, we were going through sewers and crypts for a little job, and she couldn’t stop herself from fixing them up, all clean-like. Cleaning up some cursed rat-infested crypts...” She focused her senses around, feeling for any gaps. “No—if Fayette is down here, she is doing one thing—cleaning.”

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

“She really did that? Cleaned up crypts?”

“While fighting monsters no less. Was a sight to see, to be honest. I think you’ll understand soon…” Mireille paused.

“What do you mean?”

Mireille tugged two threads twice, signaling her teammates to really move, then the [Seamstress] started running.

She had almost missed it, being too focused on what she saw, when she should have been focused on what she did not see.

She dashed past a few corners, notably not having to dodge any stray rocks, then stopped, panting and looking at the ground. “Olivia, we need your light.”

The [Doctor] silently activated it, and the cavern was lit. Marie’s eyes were momentarily blinded, but when she saw again, they widened. Mireille smiled and gestured around. “See? I told you.”

The cavern was… clean. No webs on walls, no errant bits of stone or loose dirt—but still a cave. Just a cave one might find as part of a manicured garden of sorts. Curated with intention.

All three shared a look, nodded once, and then they really started running, this time with light guiding the way. No beast or monster opposed them, just more clean chambers, like a path had been cleared through them. They did not have to watch their step, the road was intuitive to follow, like a manor’s driveway.

Mireille was not seeing anything with her webs now, but she was still the first one to stop. She held up a hand, and the others slammed to a halt behind her. The [Seamstress] carefully looked around. They were in an intersection of sorts, and she could almost hear…

“Marie, can you use [Control Conversation]? Are you getting this?”

The [Lady] frowned in confusion, then closed her eyes, searching. She found it, and a soft echo started bouncing around—like an eerie ghost wailing.

Mireille’s eyes focused—no, not wailing.

Singing.

First faint—but growing clearer. She finally got a sense of the words.

“I am a [Maid] and I live in a hole,

Living in a hole!

I liiiive in a hole!

I am a [Maid] and I live in a hole,

Living in a hole!

I liiiive in a hole!”

Mireille closed her eyes. “What is that f—”

Then she laughed, looking at the other two. Their faces were stone, then they started laughing too. The singing stopped.

Then, a glow started growing from behind a corner, as rapid footsteps patted out. Mireille’s heart beat faster. Then she flinched as a [Maid] jumped out from behind a corner. The [Maid] staggered a moment for balance, then kicked off the other wall, bouncing their way. Then stopped.

Like a rockslide suddenly freezing in place, the [Maid] stared. At their grimy clothing, filthy hair, and tired eyes.

“Oh—hi guys. You found me!”

Fayette looked different than Mireille had expected—her appearance was as if fresh out of a clothing store. Impeccable. But her eyes—they were so frantic, and her fingers were twitching about, like plucking on invisible cords. The [Seamstress] sighed. Of course—Fayette had our supplies. All for her lone self. She did not envy her.

Then the [Maid] moved again, and Mireille was wrapped in a hug, with zero hesitation. She gasped as she felt strong arms crushing her and winced when she saw how much Fayette was getting dirtied up. Then she felt fingers in her hair, smoothing out the strands, picking out pieces of spiderweb out.

And then Mireille leaned forward, laughing quietly. Tears in her eyes. Of course.

The brief moment lasted an eternity, and then she was released, and the [Maid] took a step back. She surveyed their group, all three of them this time. Mireille recognized the change in posture, and the keen look in her eyes. Work mode.

“Now—this is a complication…” Fayette muttered, taking them in. “What should the order be?”

“Order?” Marie asked, coughing into her hand.

The [Maid] turned, signaling them to follow. “Dinner, bath… everything else. Which one is first? Which one is the most important?”

Mireille took a step forward and was about to ask the others when she smelled it. The scent of food.

Her stomach rumbled.

The three expert spider gourmets shared a look, a silent decision forming. Olivia responded this time. “Erm, we would take the food first. May I ask if we have any drinks on tap?”

“I didn’t touch your stash,” The [Maid] answered, moving at their pace. No point hurrying anymore. She chose a right at an intersection, and the scent of food got stronger.

And as Mireille looked around, she realized that the cavern around her was… orderly. Like an underground garden, something carefully organized. The rocks and little mushrooms in gloomy nooks all seemed planned, with no accidents in sight anywhere. And no spiderwebs. And no spiders.

Her anticipation grew.

“Just a moment, wait here,” Fayette suddenly said, as if remembering something. The [Maid] looked back, signaled them to stop, then ran forward. Mireille was curious, but she obeyed.

Then she flinched at the loud sound. Three sounds of impacts and cracking rocks. Was Fayette… throwing rocks into a wall? Three of them? Then the [Maid] was back, looking embarrassed, and led them in.

Into a den of decadence.

The [Seamstress’s] eyes goggled at the bedding and pillows laid out in one, big, hedonistic heap, and she felt an urge to jump inside. But she remembered her state, and barely reined herself. After the bath. After the bath, she repeated to herself, desperate reason fighting with instinct. What is that pile of smashed rocks?

Then, before Mireille could investigate further, the [Maid] really moved. Like [Maid] who had been practicing how to properly pamper people and give them true first-class service.

Before she knew it, the [Seamstress] was sitting on a rock, a bowl of hot stew in her hand. Fayette had been keeping this ready? It smelled heavenly—chicken and spice. Mireille laughed. And then she ate.

Heaven. She became a true believer in the faith for just that moment.

They all ate like ravenous beasts, slowly recovering and turning back into humans. By her third bowl, Mireille was holding her spoon properly, but still shoveling the food down in an endless tide. The room was slowly coming into focus around her as her mind cleared of the constant haze of adrenaline it had been in. Not a cavern? Ruins?

But she did not have time to investigate—Fayette was watching. The [Maid] monitored them carefully, giving refills before they even thought to ask, like a machine that had been waiting anxiously to be used. Every bit of energy was bursting out at once. She finally nodded, holding three bowls in one hand, and set them down. She clapped her hands twice.

“Right! Now it’s time for the bath!”

Mireille felt every bit of tiredness flee in an instant. Right, there’s a bath here. In the middle of an underground spider-infested cavern. Of course.

Fayette led them forward, and Mireille’s eyes almost popped out when she saw the hollowed-out rock pit, filled with water, bubbling with heat from the monster cores keeping it warm.

She almost dove in right then and there, but Fayette held her back, blocking their group. With a broom’s metal end.

“Hey! You all! This needs to be a proper long bath that you can enjoy when you go in. Don’t get the water all dirty right off!”

Mireille paused, considering. She stared at her arms. Fayette pointed at her clothes. Oh, right, she hadn’t taken those off either. She peeled out of them, and Fayette gathered them all into a big heap at the corner of the room, and then the [Maid] brought out buckets.

And scrubbed them all clean.

It was the best service Mireille had ever received—she stretched out like a cat lounging under the [Maid’s] efforts. It was as her back was being scrubbed, that Fayette silently whispered to her.

“Sorry about those furs by the way. I shouldn’t have done that.”

Mireille blinked—those? She closed her eyes, feeling a small headache forming. After all this, that’s what she’s been worried about? She spoke slowly. “Fay dearest, I have a slight quandary for you. Are you good at counting?”

Fayette’s back-scrubbing got more intense. “W-what’s this about? Are you still mad? You know I’m no good at that stuff.”

The [Seamstress] was nodding. “Right, well, make your best effort. Think—how long exactly was I mad at you about that incident? Starting from the tavern, then we went to the manor, then to the mines, then we fell here.”

She turned her head, peaking at the [Maid’s] frozen face. “Exactly how long was I giving you the silent treatment? What, two-three hours too much for you to handle?”

Fayette’s face colored. Mireille turned back, satisfied. She really should be just a bit more smug with Fayette these days, the [Maid] still babied her a bit too much... For this reason and—she glanced at Marie, who was getting a rougher treatment from Olivia—others…

Besides… She looked at the steaming bath in front of her and saw what the surfaces were covered in. Her furs, are back in use again. She nodded. This might just be the best use for these.

Mireille stood up, pointed Fayette at the others, then dove into the bath.

There was a pause before she heard Fayette head to the others, and she enjoyed her head-start in the bath fully, stretching out as much as possible.

“Hey, Marie. Your turn. Your back’s still glowing with the magic I see.”

A panicked reply, Mireille could almost visualize the blush. "You’re going to—Wait. You can still see the magic? But that means…”

Then Mireille spotted the already prepared fresh change of clothing at the other corner of the cavern. She lowered her head down into the water and tried to turn into a slime.

—

Say what you will about spiders, they had given Mireille a purpose. Down here, where practically all surfaces were covered in web, she had really been the most valuable part of their cave-delving lineup. It was not about combat sense, her end-products, or even her skills, really.

The key was the material.

She almost felt regretful about heading back up. Almost.

But… she had decided to make a small bet—to try something out. An idea about where her class could be led.

So, after they had all been piled up into the bedding of decadence and the others had fallen asleep, Mireille waited for the [Maid] watching over it all to go make her rounds. She waited for her friend’s footsteps to get just a bit more distant, then reluctantly snuggled out of the bedding, sitting up.

She made her silent decision.

[Are you sure you want to remove the free skill: Survivalist? Warning: removed skills cannot be regained!]

Yes, she silently thought.

[Survivalist removed]

Yes, she was not going to eat any more spiders. She shivered as the skill was purged from her, like a cold and thin layer of stretchy fabric was pulled out, until it finally snapped, tearing apart in a flash. Mireille felt the headache. And the missing knowledge. Not knowledge she ever wanted to need again.

Then, she reached into her pocket. And took out the spider eggs she had collected before. She watched them, cradling them in her arms, feeling the pulses within.

[Free skill slot available! Listing options:]

She went through the list, searching for the one she had marked earlier. She had gotten a new option after she had started collecting these eggs. She nodded to herself, and to something higher.

[You have gained a new skill: Beast Tamer!]

[Beast Tamer – Wild beasts can be a right nightmare to handle—until you get this handy skill! Even the most ravenous and ruthless of beasts can eventually be turned into loyal companions! Easiest when starting young.]

She heard footsteps, then quickly hid the spider eggs away. The issue right now was that… the others really weren’t feeling too happy about spiders. Just the word got grimaces out of everyone, her included, to be frank. Now was not quite the time.

Fayette stepped inside, then paused when sensed that Mireille was awake. She came forward, sitting next to her.

“Feeling restless?”

I can’t really mention spiders to her of all people… “Just thinking,” Mireille said. “About what’s going on up above. What the [Lord] is up to with all this.”

“The mana signature you talked about finding? It’s really strongest here?”

“Maybe. Marie is pretty sure. Would explain the no-hiring [Mages] thing.”

Mireille felt Fayette’s clothing fidget about as if the [Maid] was hesitating. Wanting to approach some topic, but not quite doing it. She raised an eyebrow. “What’s up Fayette? Why so restless?”

The [Maid] turned to her, fidgeting more.

“About that mana signature… I might have an idea.”

“Really? What kind?”

“You know… we originally came down here to hunt one of these fire spiders, didn’t we?”

“Had enough of those for a while… What, do you want to still capture one?”

“No—It’s just… I found a really big one.”

Mireille shivered. If Fayette is hesitating…

It was dark, but she could feel the [Maid’s] intense gaze. “How do you feel about a final hunt to cap this all off?”

And so, the next morning, four hunters finally went to finish their hunt.