The next day, our preferred group were sent back into the mines to collect our ever expanding quota for the day. The deeper we went, the more the mine felt like it was swallowing us whole. The air was thick, damp, and stale, with that faint sulfur stench that made my throat itch. My torch flickered erratically, the unsteady light throwing jagged shadows on the slick, uneven walls. Every crunch of gravel beneath my boots sounded like an alarm in the suffocating silence. I tightened my grip on my pickaxe, trying to ignore the uneasy feeling clawing at the back of my mind.
“Stay sharp,” Wang Jian whispered, his voice barely audible. “The deeper tunnels aren’t just dangerous—they’re a graveyard.”
Great. Exactly what I needed to hear. My gaze shifted to Ming Lian. Even injured, he moved with the kind of determination you couldn’t fake, but I could see the tension in his face. If he was uneasy, I had every reason to be on edge. I adjusted my grip on the torch and tried not to think about what might be waiting for us. The tunnel opened up suddenly into a cavern. My breath caught as the walls came alive with a faint, blue glow. Moss clung to every surface, pulsing faintly like it had its own heartbeat. It was beautiful in a way that made my skin crawl—too cold, too unnatural. It felt wrong.
“This moss,” Ming Lian muttered, nudging a patch with the toe of his boot, “only grows in places with high concentrations of spirit energy.”
I frowned. “Meaning what?”
“Meaning there’s something powerful nearby,” Wang Jian answered, scanning the cavern with a grim expression. “Probably a spirit beast.”
Of course. I clenched my jaw, forcing my breathing to stay steady. My fingers twitched on the handle of my pickaxe, already bracing for the worst. The way the blue light flickered off the damp walls only made everything feel more surreal, more dangerous. Then I heard it. A low, rhythmic clicking echoed through the cavern, faint at first but growing louder with every second. The sound reverberated off the walls, sharp and ominous, like some kind of cruel countdown. I froze, my gut twisting with a sense of dread I couldn’t shake. “It’s here,” Wang Jian said, his voice tight. He raised his pickaxe, his body shifting into a combat-ready stance.
The clicking stopped.
The silence that followed was worse—too thick, too heavy, like the cavern itself was holding its breath. My torch flickered, the light barely pushing back against the dark, and then—movement.
The creature burst into view, and for a split second, I couldn’t do anything but stare. A giant spider stood there. It looked as if it was made of polished crystal. The spider was massive, its crystalline body shimmering in the cold blue glow of the moss. The jagged growths along its body caught the light, refracting it like shards of glass. Its eight gleaming eyes locked onto us with unnerving intelligence, and its legs—each one thicker than a man’s arm—moved with terrifying speed. My instincts took over. I threw myself to the side just as the spider lunged, its dagger-like fangs stabbing into the ground where I’d been standing. The impact sent dirt and debris flying, stinging my face and arms. I hit the ground hard, but I didn’t stop to think. Scrambling to my feet, I yelled, “Spread—out!”
The others moved, but I could barely focus on them. My heart hammered as I activated Earth Sense. The world shifted as vibrations from the ground filled my mind, painting a clearer picture of the spider’s movements even as it scuttled into the shadows. I pointed to the far end of the cavern. “There!” It moved again, faster than I expected. Ming Lian tried to block its attack, but the spider’s crystalline leg struck him hard, sending him sprawling. Blood splattered the ground as the sharp edge tore through his tunic. My stomach churned, but there was no time to think. I rushed forward, swinging my pickaxe at the spider’s side. The blade struck true—but it barely left a mark. Its crystalline armor was too thick.
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“Damn it,” I hissed, stumbling back as the spider’s glowing eyes snapped toward me.
Wang Jian darted in from the side, his pickaxe swinging in a brutal arc. The strike connected with one of the spider’s legs, severing it with a sickening crack. The creature screeched, the sound so high-pitched it made my ears ring. I winced but forced myself to stay focused. It wasn’t enough. The spider retaliated with terrifying speed, its legs stabbing like spears. Wang Jian dodged most of the strikes, but one clipped his shoulder, sending him staggering. I gritted my teeth and activated Stone Skin. The familiar sensation of my body hardening like rock gave me just enough confidence to stand my ground as the spider lunged. Its fangs came at me, glittering like polished daggers. I raised my arm to block, bracing for impact. Sparks flew as its fangs scraped uselessly against my stone-reinforced skin. My arm ached from the force of the strike, but I didn’t falter.
“Go for the underbelly!” Wang Jian shouted. “It’s the only weak spot!”
I gritted my teeth. Easier said than done. The spider was too fast, its movements erratic and unpredictable. I dodged another swipe of its legs, the air whistling past my head. Ming Lian, somehow, was back on his feet. Bloodied and pale, he swung his pickaxe with everything he had, aiming for the spider’s joints. Each hit made the creature more unsteady, its movements less precise.
This was it. —My chance.
I took a deep breath, using Earth Sense to track the spider’s movements. Timing was everything. As it staggered, I darted forward, sliding beneath its massive body. The world slowed as its legs thrashed around me, the danger all too real. I ignored it. I raised my pickaxe and drove it upward, straight into the spider’s underbelly. My sliding momentum tearing the hole into a wide gash, causing its innards to spill out beneath it. The creature let out an ear-splitting screech. Its body convulsed, nearly throwing me off, but I twisted the blade, opening the wound wider before rolling out from under it.
The spider collapsed, its crystalline body cracking and shuddering. For a moment, it thrashed wildly, and then—silence. Its body shattered into a pile of glittering fragments, the eerie blue glow of the moss reflected in the shards. I dropped to the ground, gasping for breath. My arms felt like lead, and every muscle in my body screamed in protest. As my vision swam, the System’s notification appeared in my mind:
[You have defeated. Crystal Fang Spider]
[Skill Acquired: Chi Anchor (Passive, Rank, E)]
Stabilizes Chi flow, reducing the strain of advanced abilities.
I couldn’t even bring myself to care.
“You alive?” Wang Jian’s voice broke through my haze. “Barely,” I muttered, forcing myself to sit up. My body protested every movement, but I wasn’t about to collapse here. Ming Lian limped over, pale but steady. “That... was insane. What kind of person goes for the underbelly of a spirit beast?”
I managed a weak grin. “The kind who doesn’t want to die.” We sat in silence for a moment, the cavern unnervingly still. The oppressive atmosphere had lifted, but not enough to make me feel safe. Wang Jian stood, his tone grim. “We need to move. That thing’s screeching will have drawn attention. More beasts—or worse—could already be on their way.”
He was right. Forcing myself to my feet, I cast one last glance at the spider’s glittering remains before following the others into the tunnel. My body ached, my mind reeled, but I wasn’t about to stop now. This was only the beginning.