“Did you just wake?” the girl asked as she approached. She had a peach-tinted face dusted with freckles, and hair that fell in short apricot curls over her shoulders. Her cheeks were red with exertion. She seemed worn, her clothes tattered and frayed in spots, and she was covered in a smattering of cuts and bruises. Her scarf, patterned with faint silver runes, was twisted awkwardly around her neck.

“Yeah, just a while ago,” Atlas replied. “Are you travelers as well?” The boy following behind the girl nearly tripped on his footing as he approached them. “And… is he going to be okay?”

The boy stumbled into place between Atlas and the girl. His traveler’s cloak, scuffed and torn, hung haphazardly over his shoulders. The sleeves of his tunic were ripped and flapping in the wind, revealing forearms covered with freshly formed bruises. His boots were caked with frost-blue cobwebs.

“Feeling better than ever,” the boy said with a grin. His breath turned into a powdery plume in the air. He reached out to grab Atlas and the girl and steadied himself on their shoulders. Atlas lent both hands, worried the boy might pitch backward into the snow.

“Do you hear that?” Atlas asked. The skittering sound from where the boy and the girl had come grew louder. It echoed unevenly, making it hard to pinpoint the source. Every now and then, the tapping was punctuated by a high-pitched chitter. It carried a dry, rasping undertone, like teeth scraping over rocks.

“Spiders,” the girl said, her voice sharp with tension.

“Spiders?” Atlas took a step back. “Should we… keep walking?”

“We were fighting through a nest,” the girl continued. “Got through a dozen, but they wouldn’t end. We ended up running for it.” She shrugged uneasily. “I think we lost most of them.”

“Don’t worry,” the boy said, cupping an ear toward the sound. “Sounds like just one. Probably a straggler from the nest.”

A rich and warm scent lingered around the boy. It took a moment for Atlas to place the familiar aroma—honeyed malt.

“Is that ale?” Atlas asked, sniffing at the air.

The boy gave him a sly look, then patted the inside of his cloak. Atlas heard something clink. “Yeah, and there’s more where it came from.”

“He needs it for his abilities,” the girl said, looking away as if she were explaining something embarrassing. “Or at least that’s what he says,” she added with a mumble.

“Wow… are you… addled then?” Atlas asked, turning to the boy.

“Nah, the effects are all gone,” the boy said confidently, and then he swayed drunkenly and tilted head first into the snow. Atlas and Ela jerked him back up.

The skittering suddenly stopped.

Atlas turned to face the direction of the sound. He took a cautious step back, eyeing his Stamina. He didn’t have it in him to run for much longer. Even with the residual effects of his Frost Spirit’s Draught, his Stamina had only recovered to 15, and he was sure the potion had worn off by now. Ela’s torch was keeping his warmth at bay, but his Satiety and Hydration meters continued to deplete.

They stared at the embankment the boy and the girl had descended from for a full minute in silence. The wind died down, leaving only the faint creak of ice underneath their feet and their soft, uneven breaths. The sky stretched vast and dark over the snow dunes. The girl’s torch threw shadows across the icy slopes, its violet light casting an eldritch glow over the tundra.

After a long while, it seemed like the skittering wouldn’t return. Atlas let out a sigh of relief. He turned back to the girl and the boy to study them more closely.

Both the girl and the boy were dressed similarly to him, but with a few notable differences. The girl had a scarf that seemed woven from the same fabric as the Frosthide Mantle the yeti had dropped. Instead of a tunic, she wore a dress with a textured pattern resembling the wings of a bat.

The boy was slightly taller than both her and Atlas. His gear was almost the same as Atlas’s, except for darker boots that also had a textured pattern resembling bat wings. Scuffs and deep scrapes on his boots suggested he had been around here for longer. He had midnight blue hair and electric blue eyes. A lean frame suggested a wiry strength.

“You both have been awake for a while, then?” Atlas asked, clamping his jaw to keep his teeth from chattering. The frigid air was settling in again and his heat shield was fading. “Do you know anywhere warm we could go? Anywhere with food?”

His eyes darted toward the embankment. He thought he heard the chittering again.

“Have you been to the Oracle Bard’s Tavern yet?” the girl asked.

“Tavern? Here?” Atlas glanced around the landscape, as if it might emerge from a thicket of ice, but before he could look around for long, several pairs of spindly legs crept out from a mound of snow.

Atlas froze, his eyes widening as the spider unfurled from the ground, but he recovered a moment later—the creature already looked nearly defeated. Deep fissures marred its gleaming exoskeleton. One of its limbs hung at an unnatural angle, fractured at the joint, while thin wisps of blue mist escaped from its ruptured torso. Dull, frost-bitten eyes glinted weakly from a scarred face.

The spider itself was about half Atlas’s size. He thought he might be able to take it in a fight, even with his Health and Stamina not yet fully recovered, but he wasn’t eager to risk it. With his Health down to 23, a single bite could mean death.

“Oh, it’s the one we already damaged,” the boy said. He snapped his arms forward and back, as if loading them for a fight. “This one is on me; you two just sit back.”

A screen materialized in front of Atlas as the boy took a few steps toward the creature.

Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

“Spirit Identified: Stage 1 boreal widow. The boreal widow is a spectral ice spider, often found near caves formed of frozen witch water or ancient ice. It develops its exoskeleton over several years by layering glacial debris on top of itself. Its venom can induce various frost status effects, including frostbound delirium and polar whispers.”

The spider hissed as the boy stopped 20 feet away from its stumbling body. Strands of iridescent silk dripped from its fangs like dew. Cracks in its carapace revealed a dark, rotting mass underneath.

“Don’t get near it!” the girl said. “Just throw the Charbrand Elixir.” She turned to Atlas. “I’m Eladira, by the way. Ela, for short.”

“Oh… Atlas,” Atlas said, without taking his eyes off the spider. “Can he fight in this… state?”

“Somehow, he’s fully awake when fighting,” Ela said. “Even more alert than when he’s sober.” Ela glanced over at Atlas. “Have you eaten since you woke?”

“No,” Atlas said. “But I think I need water even more than food.” He licked his lips, noticing how dry and blistered they were.

Ela patted herself down, then took out a waterskin tucked inside her cloak. She handed it to Atlas.

Atlas pulled the stopper out, his fingers quivering as he drank. He hadn’t realized how desperate he was for water. He gulped greedily, the cold burning in his throat, then stopped himself when he realized he might accidentally finish Ela’s supply. His Hydration meter climbed to a quarter-full.

“Don’t worry,” Ela said. “It’s just snow we melted, nothing special.”

“I’m Cain,” the boy said, looking over his shoulder. “We’ll have spider meat in a bit, if you can’t wait until the tavern.”

Atlas grimaced, his stomach already churning from the idea. “I think I can wait until the tavern.” He wasn’t sure if he’d be able to eat spider meat even if he was starving.

Atlas noticed a mark on Cain’s neck that looked like a sea creature with a bulbous head and many serpentine legs. Its skull was humanoid, but elongated, giving it a disturbingly alien look. He couldn’t remember where he had seen it, but the mark looked familiar. The creature was some breed of kraken—painted in deep-sea hues and shifting ink. It gave the beast a living appearance.

The spider skittered from side to side, its many eyes fixed on Cain. The skin around its mandibles had coarse, dark hair that bristled with its movements.

Cain, looking unbothered, began rummaging through his cloak. “Should we share our classes?” He motioned with his head as if nudging the air, then pulled a dark red bottle from his inventory.

“Yeah… sure,” Atlas said. Cain’s confidence eased his nerves about the spider. Atlas had just woken—perhaps Ela and Cain were much stronger and wouldn’t struggle the way he did with the yeti. He wondered if he’d get any experience just by standing nearby as Cain took out the creature.

He wasn’t sure how to share information about his class, but he gave it a try by concentrating hard on the idea. The Oracle seemed to understand, because he saw Ela scanning the air in front of her a moment later.

Ela and Cain were both level 5. Their classes appeared in side-by-side windows.

“Class Identified: Enchantress. The Enchantress is a versatile spellcasting class focused on illusion, mind, and control magic. Their illusions can manifest as physical apparitions powered by mana. Enchantresses can serve as support healers by affecting the minds of their allies. Their abilities tend to scale with attributes such as Insight, Constitution, Arcane, and Intuition.”

“Class Identified: Brawler. The Brawler class is an offensive tank class that specializes in raw physical power, unarmed strikes, and improvised weaponry. Brawlers rely on high resilience, evasion, and brute force to overpower enemies. They gain passive bonuses and new, temporary abilities the longer they stay in the heat of combat. Their abilities tend to scale with attributes such as Endurance, Charm, Element, and Soul.”

Ela frowned, turning to Atlas. “Wait, why doesn’t your class—”

Cain hurled the potion at the spider, cutting her off. The red bottle glinted in the air for a moment, then shattered with a crack on the creature’s head. A velvet liquid poured down its face, pooling around its mandibles and seeping into the cracks of its exoskeleton. The spider recoiled at first, but then quickly regained control and even started jerking its head left and right to try and lick the potion off its face.

With a name like Charbrand Elixir, Atlas expected the item to burst into flames when it hit the spider, but instead, it had no immediate effect. In fact, after a few seconds, it seemed like the spider was actually developing a taste for it. It rubbed its face into the remnants of the spilled elixir, clawing at the snow to find more.

“What the…” Cain whispered with a puzzled look. He slid a hand into his inventory again. “Oh shoot… I think that was a health potion.”

“Wait…what?” Atlas sputtered. Behind him, Ela let out a deep sigh.

The creature’s legs began to mend, snapping back into place. The cracks and fractures of its exoskeleton closed with the crackling sound of a campfire. Its torso pulsed with newfound vitality. A resonant hum filled the air as it stretched out its limbs. Its armor began to knit itself back together.

As if that weren’t horrifying enough for Atlas, the spider convulsed violently, crashing forward into the snow. Its entire body began to tremble, and a guttural clicking emanated from its mouth. Its abdomen swelled, as if something were crawling underneath its skin.

Atlas took several steps back. “What in fate’s name—”

With a sickening crack, one of the spider’s legs spasmed outward and doubled in size. A thicker carapace formed around it, layering plates like black ice over itself. The new armor radiated a blistering cold that Atlas could feel from several feet away.

“Ash and ruin…” Ela swore. “I think it’s evolving.”

“Should we run?” Atlas asked. His Satiety, Hydration, and Stamina meters all flickered across his vision—a grim reminder that he wouldn’t get far.

Spiked protrusions erupted from the spider’s back. A sulfurous tang filled the air as its mandibles split into four saw-toothed pincers.

Ela shifted her stance and raised her arms in front of her. “If it’s faster as a stage 2… we won’t get very far,” she replied. “We’re better off fighting.”

Three more legs transformed, lifting the spider’s torso higher off the ground. Chitinous plating wrapped around its head. Venom oozed from its mouth, forming smoking pits in the snow.

“Don’t worry, we got this,” Cain said. The playfulness was gone from his eyes. He was still swaying, but in a way that seemed practiced.

Atlas reached for his lunar dagger. “You wouldn’t happen to have anything that restores Stamina, would you? Or more health potions?”

“I’m out,” Ela said with a sigh. “Please tell me you stocked up.” She jabbed a hand into Cain’s cloak while planting her torch into the snow. She felt around for a moment, then gave Cain a withering look. “Moonshine… moonshine… moonshine… is this all you bought?”

“If I block everything and hit everything, I won’t need many potions,” Cain replied. He glanced up for a moment, as if working through the logic in his head. Before he could say more, the spider suddenly went still. It was twice the height of any of them now. It fixed its dozen eyes on the three of them—its transformation complete.

A window materialized in the bottom-right-corner of Atlas’s view.

“Spirit Identified: Stage 2 borealis widow. In its first evolved form, the borealis widow gains significantly more armor, bolstering its defense against physical and magic damage. Its venom now crystallizes instantly in the bloodstream, causing its bite to inflict massive damage over time. This spirit is now a necrotic type, on top of frost and arachnid. Unlike its previous form, stage 2 widows are highly adaptive and can exist in warm environments by glacial-morphing the world around them.”

“I don’t know how much stronger it is in its evolved form,” Ela said. “Stay focused and be careful.”