A very elegant figure stepped gracefully out of the shadows, her presence filling the air with an almost hypnotic stillness. She wore a silken dress that shimmered like morning dew, styled in a bright, flowing kimono adorned with intricate patterns resembling spider webs. Her movements were delicate, as though she floated above the blood-soaked battlefield.

Aethyr instinctively stepped back, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. His grip tightened around his weapon, yet he held his ground. The woman’s gaze settled on him—not piercing, but detached, her expression devoid of emotion. Slowly, she glided toward the fallen armored spider.

Kneeling beside the hulking corpse, she caressed its shattered head with tender fingers, her touch almost maternal. A faint, sorrowful sigh escaped her lips. Aethyr could feel the unease gnawing at him, but he stood firm, his body tense.

Then, the woman rose. Her eyes, like polished obsidian, met his as she moved toward him with unbroken elegance. Aethyr mirrored her movements, circling slowly, his weapon ready. They locked gazes, both calculating and cautious, their steps deliberate like fighters sizing each other up in a deadly arena.

Without warning, the woman revealed her hands. Her fingers extended unnaturally, elongating into sharp, black talons that gleamed menacingly in the dim light.

“You fought well, mortal,” she said softly, her voice laced with something sinister. “But you are not welcome here.”

Then her form began to shift. Her eyes glowed crimson and multiplied, growing from two to eight in horrifying symmetry. Her skin darkened, cracked, and split as grotesque, chitinous plates emerged. Her graceful silhouette contorted as her limbs extended, her once-beautiful visage transforming into a monstrous, predatory grin lined with razor-sharp teeth.

Jorogumo.

Aethyr swallowed hard as a cold dread crept over him. The terror of his past, the suffocating helplessness he once felt when pulled underwater by a Nixie, came flooding back. He planted his feet, forcing himself to steady his breathing.

“You’re not the first nightmare I’ve faced,” he muttered under his breath.

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With an ear-piercing hiss, the Jorogumo raised her hand. Glimmering threads of magic spun from her fingers, weaving into an unholy web that lashed out like a living whip. The force struck Aethyr, hurling him backward. He crashed into a pillar, pain erupting across his back.

Before he could recover, the Jorogumo flicked her wrist again. The magical threads wrapped around him, lifting him into the air like a broken doll. His body twisted helplessly, his limbs pinned by the unyielding force.

The creature’s hand clenched into a tight fist, and Aethyr gasped as his life force began to drain. He felt the energy seeping from his body, the world growing colder, darker. The edges of his vision blurred. Then, with a thud, his body hit the ground, limp and lifeless.

The Jorogumo approached, her monstrous form looming over him. She reached down and pried open his helmet, exposing his face. Her horrific smile widened as she leaned in close, her fanged maw inches from his skin.

“Such a pity,” she whispered, her voice dripping with malice. “You would’ve made a fine feast.”

Just as her fangs were about to pierce him, Aethyr’s eyes snapped open.

“Sorry, no kisses on the first date,” he quipped, his tone dripping with mockery. “Too many legs for my taste.”

In one swift motion, he drove his blade deep into her abdomen.

The Jorogumo screeched in agony, staggering backward as black ichor poured from the wound. Her glowing eyes flared with rage, but to Aethyr’s dismay, the wound began to close almost instantly.

“Why won’t you die?!” she shrieked, her voice warped and guttural. “I took your soul!”

Aethyr smirked arrogantly, rising to his feet. “Let’s just say I’ve died plenty of times before—during practice. It’s a habit I’ve outgrown.” He dusted off his armor, his voice oozing confidence. “And for the record, dark magic? Nullified. No effect on me anymore.”

Her claws twitched, her fury rising to an unholy crescendo. “You’ll regret mocking me!”

“Oh, don’t get me wrong—it hurt when you slammed me,” he said, rolling his neck. “But I hit back harder.”

With a deafening, high-pitched wail, the Jorogumo unleashed her fury. The room darkened, a suffocating miasma filling the air. Aethyr could feel the oppressive energy pressing against him, but he refused to waver.

As she lunged, he hurled his shield at her with all his might. One of her grotesque arms intercepted it, gripping the shield tightly. Using the distraction, Aethyr swung his sword in a sharp arc, aiming for her exposed torso. She blocked with another arm, sparks flying as blade met claw.

But then he saw his opening. With a ferocious roar, he threw a powerful right hook. His fist connected with her face, the impact shattering her balance. The force sent her reeling, her many legs scrambling for footing as she crashed to the ground with a deafening thud.

Aethyr readied his stance, his weapon gleaming as he prepared for the next move. “Ready for round two?” he taunted, his smirk returning.