Six miles south of the spider cave in the dark woods is a grove of densely packed trees. There is no difference between night and day. It is always dark, almost pitch black. How life even exists at all within the eerie trees is uncertain.

A host of dead animals lie on the moss-covered dirt. An entire pack of wolves are slowly decomposing, bones and all. Bears, foxes, squirrels, deer, moose, and even enlightened beasts fill the graveyard. Corpses jam between trees. Some overlap. Others are tangled so tightly in the trees that they aren't touching the ground. Among the freshest kills is a host of spiders lying within a foot of the tunnel entrance. An entire company of spiders had been slain and laid to waste.

What isn't present is any source of flies or other scavengers that generally feast on the rotting flesh of the dead. Besides the trees and the moss, there is no other life in the grove.

Yellowish-brown energy seeps through the bark and the leaves of the willowy trees. The trees alone stand out from the rest of the forest. Standing out from the pine, aspen, and hickory trees, the willows look unnatural.

The ground within the grove bubbles. Energy oozes out in a gross brown miasma. A bear corpse is sucked underground, causing more bubbles to erupt as the corpse is devoured. The mana cloud thickens and the grove groans in satisfaction for the feast. Then all is silent.

There are none alive within the grove to witness such a foul act of consumption. The only eyes are the ones staying far on the outskirts of the tunnel. Despite the foulness burning into his soul, the goblin feels is a strong desire to explore the mystery of the grove pulling on Shelby. The desire is wrong, playing against the basic instinct to survive. Uncomfortable as it is, the desire is persistent.

Come and see.

Come and see.

You will be safe.

Come and see.

Shelby’s emotions are a wreck. Her sisters were sent into scout. She thought she was being cautious when she sent in an entire platoon. Never did she think she would see such a merciless massacre. The whole grove is a trap. Each tree acted at once, stabbing and whipping the unprepared spiders. All three hundred of them went down without a fight.

Do not take another step forward. The regent's step forward freezes. His presence in her mind is helping. To his relief, Shelby is pulled to her senses and takes another step back.

The druid feels all the emotions of Shelby and more. Much more. The spiders are his. He is bound and connected to them on a deep level. When they die, he feels their pain and the loss. Even more, he feels their hope in their God turn to despair when he doesn’t come to their aid. He felt their faith wither and crush as their bond severed.

Though he is miles away, he can see and feel everything Shelby feels through their deep bond. She still stands at the entrance of the willow, anguished and terrified. Yet Shelby cannot leave. She must see. She must avenge her sisters. The druid feels the desire within Shelby and pushes it away, stopping her from moving closer. He keeps his connection with her as his army makes their way to the grove.

Through his link, he sees his army arrive by the dozens and then hundreds led by Diti. This is his army. This is his power. He never imagined he could command such power. Pride swells in his heart. If only the other runts could see him now. If only the clans could feel his might…

When they finally arrive, the druid feels the grove's allure diminish as if fleeing from a predator. "We will enter the tunnel and revenge the fallen. We will cut down the rot that plagues the forest inside the grove." He speaks as a god, certain and absolute. The awkward words swell within his spiders. They cling to his confidence and trust in power.

Do not enter the tunnel. He sends his actual command to his army. Prepare to do so, but do not enter. My queens, let us talk this through. He stops speaking to the spiders and only communicates with his queens.

The tunnel is too tight. Our strength is our numbers. We need to hit the grove with all our spiders at once. Trish is the first to respond, her impressions are full of confidence and zeal. Let us cut our way to the grove.

Love what you're reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.

Good. However, we must be more careful once we are at the border. Shields, stay close to our cutters. Spinners will harvest the mana from the fallen trees and offer support. Allow them to use the power as they see fit. Commanders must provide support and look for risks.

We will root out this rot at once, My Lord, says Shelby.

No, I need my queens to stay out of the fight. We do not know enough about this corrupted grove. Even though no response is given, he feels disappointment from his queens. As much as he wants them in the fight. He needs to keep them out for now.

The goblin looks over his army with pride. The cutters and shields are paired off. Following them are the spinners and commanders. The spiders gather around the tunnel as if they are about to enter and wait for his order.

"To the tunnel!" He commands. At once, the spiders converge on the tunnel. Cutters lead the charge as they take their position one by one. Then one by one, they attack. Blades lash out faster than the eye can see. Branches are cut through and fall to the ground. Before the fallen branches have a chance to surprise the cutters, webs catch the limbs and pull them away.

The grove groans under the assault and rears back as if getting hit but a monsoon wind. The blades don't let up. Thousands of swords strike the willow tunnel repeatedly, cutting away at the entrance. Only when the tunnel has been cut back to the grove, do the cutters stop.

Excess piles of webbed willow limbs have been gathered and are now absorbed by Diti. Diti sends all of the life pulled from the sacks to the goblin, who waits to unleash the mana at the perfect time. For now, he cultivates the mana, letting it run through his channels and expand his soul. He is at the cusps of advancing to a squire. This battle very well could take him over the edge.

Keeping their distance from the grove's border, cutters wait for the rest of the spiders to get into position. Shields advance to protect them. Spinners fall behind the shields, and the commanders stand next to the spinners.

The grove has not been restless in the event of the tunnel attack. It groans and withers. Tainted life energy pours through the ground creating a thick fog in the grove.

Destroy, he commands. The shields clank their armor together, and the blades sink their sharp legs into the willows. One more groan is given before the tainted trees strike back. The willows begin sending razor leaves and cracking whips into the spider masses.

Twenty overzealous spiders fall quickly to retaliation. The remaining force reign in their battle lust and keep close to their guardians. The shields weather the willows' furious attack with no hint of breaking. The thick exoskeleton plating proves more than adequate for the sharp attacks of the demon trees.

Slowly the blades advance, cutting the trees inch by inch. Fallen trees are quickly removed and absorbed. Spiders that are killed are also pulled out of the battleground. Minutes pass by. The spiders deal more damage than they receive. The willow domain is half of its original size.

The only change in the trees' tactics is favoring spear thrusts instead of whips. The spears have much more force than the whips, which is a challenge for the shields. However, they adapt and lock limbs and lace shields together, creating an impenetrable wall.

The spiders continue to work as a cohesive unit, striking only when they can always and maintaining defense. The commanders keep the blades and shields on rotation, careful not to over-exert their troops. The spinners pump life energy into all, maintaining energy and power levels and healing any wounds the branches inflict.

The domain is pushed back to a quarter of the size. The trees' attacks double in effort and enthusiasm. Vision becomes cloudy as the fog thickens and the footing becomes more shaken. Still, the spiders persist. The previous willow attacks have only worked to hone the army's execution. Even in the hurricane of leaves, whips, and spears, not a single spider falls.

Pride flows through him as he watches his devoted army destroy the foe. Only ten percent left. Five. Four. Three. There is a pause in the battle as one last groan from the willow is given. The cry reverberates through the surrounding forest. The ground shakes, and some spiders lose their footing. More spears fall upon the shields. It isn't enough. The grove has been defeated. Two more trees left — one more. More pride flows through him as the battle is won.

It was easy to see how the grove grew in power. No tree would be able to stop it from taking all its life. No bear, wolf, or even a simple monster could handle the might of the grove. It took power and the strength of a unified army. In his celebration, he is generous with his rewards. Mana is given to the spiders upgrading their forms and power significantly.

When the last of the grove is absorbed, the druid and his devoted spiders turn to leave the cleansed grove behind. They still have work to be done culling the overgrown forest.

He takes a step to leave when the earth tries to swallow him.