“Haaaah … haaah … haaah …”

Liliane was regretting her lack of exercise.

Being A-rank had many perks. And all of them were to do with not needing to pull herself from her bedroll in the middle of a swamp or a forest.

However, even if she’d continued to trudge through fen and thicket while wondering if she shouldn’t just take up her guaranteed spot in the family business, no amount of training would have accelerated her past the rushing goblins.

Whether it was on the back of a wolf or upon their own two feet, the goblins defied their relatively small frames to rush ahead at a pace outstripping a gazelle in the hinterlands.

And for a few moments, the same applied to Liliane.

She might be the slowest non-goblin in this herd, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t racing at a pace which defied what her lungs were capable of. Because each time her muscles considered complaining, all she needed to do was spare a glance behind her.

Just like now.

“Ughhhh …”

She let out a groan as an endless wall of crimson eyes looked back. And all from just one pursuer.

A shadow tumbling in the darkened tunnels, revealing itself every so often courtesy of the large rubies covering its carapace, sparking like flint as they collided against the enveloping shaft.

A very large, very armoured and fully mature matriarch jewel spider.

Whatever the goblins wanted, so too had this creature.

Despite its size being too large for the tunnel, none of its spear-like legs fought against each other. They instead climbed and crossed seamlessly like a pit of snakes dancing their way forward.

A dance Liliane hoped not to join.

There was a reason she wasn’t famed for her footwork. And it was the exact same reason she wasn’t famed for her running, either.

“Haaah … ahhh … hhaahh …”

Beside her, the adventurer she’d just met shared little of her fatigue. Although sweat ran past his brows, it was for a different reason.

He clearly didn’t like spiders.

Giant, carnivorous, armoured spiders.

Caban’s brows furrowed as he glanced behind him. Then, as though catching Liliane’s despair, he purposefully broke into an easy smile.

“So, I’ve a question.”

“Haah … ehh? Question?”

“Well, like every C-rank, I’m sort of waiting for my turn with the B-rank trials. And since we’re not always told when they start, it could be anything. That’s stress right there. Got any tips for passing?”

Liliane had no tips to give.

For one thing, it was too hard to talk. For another, she’d passed her own B-rank trial by default after her grader almost killed her through a trap he’d triggered.

“Stay close to your grader,” she said in a single breath.

“Will do.” The man nodded, then looked hopefully at her. “I don’t suppose this is my–”

“No.”

“Figures.”

A pair of shoulders slumped slightly.

They tensed again as the sounds became closer. The glimmer of false rubies suddenly shined, mirroring the unnatural light emanating from the many eyes upon them.

Too close. Liliane sucked in a breath and raised her palms as she ran.

“[Blade Guardian]!”

The light briefly lit up the marching horror.

Were it burrowed, it would have been mistaken for early retirement, such was the amount of glimmering rubies caking its carapace. The matriarch would oblige, of course. Except retirement came in the form of its dribbling mandibles, its bladed legs and its ability to induce heart attacks.

A moment later, it paused as an ethereal greatsword was launched towards it.

Clink.

A familiar noise resounded. But not because the weapon had struck its natural armour.

Instead, it was the sound of sharpened legs catching it as deftly as a hand caught a falling snowflake.

Clink. Clink. Clink.

Liliane was horrified. But not as much as when it began to devour the weapon.

Absorbing the magic as readily as a vampire drank blood, the weapon crumbled within its sticky mandibles. To a jewel spider, nothing was exempt. But it still had its preferences.

Given how it immediately barreled towards the two fleeing adventurers with renewed vigour, its favourite entrée was regretful humans.

Neither chose to humour it.

Their speed quickened as they burst through the makeshift goblin entry and into the main shaft of the mine. Liliane practically slid into the opposing wall, scrambling in any direction as she raised her palms once more. She briefly caught sight of the glimmering monstrosity in the midst of a leap, clearly hoping to ram itself through the hole.

“[Earthen Bulwark]!”

Poomph.

If it did, it met only a wall of conjured stone instead.

Poomph. Poomph. Poomph.

The sound of crumbling rock filled the mining shaft where two adventurers waited with bated breath. But of the conjured wall, not a fracture could be seen. Again and again, a creature whose weight was itself a weapon tested itself against Liliane’s magic. And after a pause, it conceded.

The sound of muted, scuttling legs was briefly heard fading into the distance.

And then–

“Haaaaaaaaaaaah …”

A sigh of relief.

For a moment, Liliane did nothing but suck in the gasps of air.

A stitch she was unfamiliar with poked her in her kidney–each pang a reminder that before she began seeking out her adventuring contacts once again, she first needed to enjoy a few unpleasant jogs through Marinsgarde’s promenade. Compared to fleeing from matriarch spiders, the crowds of tourists were another level altogether.

She looked up as Caban whistled. He himself looked none the worse for wear.

“Oh man, stuff like that reminds me that I’m actually a bit squeamish around spiders. I think I’ll mail a letter to my old man asking him for help if I find that in my kitchen.”

Liliane pretended she was only brushing her knees.

“That was a matriarch jewel spider,” she said, raising herself. “Something which rivals a dragon in its lust for trinkets and gold.”

“So that’s why the goblins are interested. I’m guessing it’s got something special if they’re willing to offer themselves as dinner. Say what you want, but goblins are pretty good at not doing that.”

Liliane nodded.

It was extremely unusual for goblins to assault something they were not wholly certain they could defeat. Even more so if it could be avoided altogether. Goblins were not master tunnellers without reason.

“The guild needs to be informed. Marinsgarde as well. Goblins aside, a matriarch jewel spider may be indicative of a larger infestation.”

“Agreed. I wouldn’t want to be Pepper right now. That one had to be at least B-rank, right?”

“I believe so, yes. Most matriarchs are.”

Caban paused, clearly thinking over his next words.

“Not to be forward, ma’am, but as mean as these ladies are, don’t you have a way to, uh … sizzle them up? I mean, I figured you’d handled them before, being A-rank and all.”

Liliane pursed her lips.

Suddenly, she was too fatigued to speak again.

“I’ve fought matriarch spiders before, yes … but always as part of organised adventuring teams. We came here for information, not a subjugation. Rank is not the defining arbitrator of deadly encounters. Common sense is. It’s needless to risk a fight against any lethal adversary while confined in a narrow space. Without either numbers or overwhelming strength, the danger in confrontation was too great.”

Caban nodded at once.

He said nothing, nor did his expression betray any judgement. It was, after all, perfectly sound advice. And the very reason Liliane had climbed the Oldest Ladder where others did not.

However–she read the man’s thoughts in his stance.

In the hand still around his hilt. The hips turned towards the [Earthen Bulwark]. The heel waiting, wishing to spring.

Thomas Lainsfont wouldn’t have run.

He’d have sliced away each of its legs as easily as he would a flurry of blades, then moved onto the business of counting treasure.

And Ophelia, well … she would have waved at it. And that’d be enough.

Giant arachnids were intelligent, after all.

“... I am not combat focused,” she explained without being asked. “My conjurations are versatile, but fragile. They support the front line and defend the rear, striking, defending or distracting targets while often being ignored in turn.”

Caban smiled genially, understanding in his eyes. It only made her wince in embarrassment.

“That so? Sounds great to have you on an expedition. I wouldn’t mind being that useful every now and again. I can only rescue cats. Not much good in the big leagues.”

Liliane didn’t feel the need to dignify that with a rebuttal.

It was clear this adventurer had already achieved more than scooping up a handful of tabby cats from trees. C-rank was the highest many ever achieved. But given his mentor, she doubted if he’d overly stumble come the B-rank trials.

The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

Mostly, however–

Bwoooooooooomph!!

Her silence was due to the wall crumbling beside her [Earthen Bulwark].

Rocks and whatever ore had yet to be scavenged burst outwards as the glimmering matriarch sidestepped her barrier altogether. Innumerable rubies fought for attention against the crimson eyes of the monster as its great form rammed through one wall and into the next.

The mining shaft groaned, dust and rubble falling down as the wooden supports wavered.

And then the matriarch turned.

Mandibles spilling with the oozing remains of its last meal dribbled to the ground. Half its legs bent in preparation for a lunge. The rest were reserved for the important business of tenderising dinner.

“... Ooph, I think she has her eyes on me,” said Caban, his smile clashing with the obvious unease causing his brows to twitch. “The feelings are appreciated, but I’m afraid the wandering lifestyle means I haven’t any plans for settling down.”

Liliane groaned.

He was even taunting monsters. He really was one of those types.

“The only place it wants you to settle is in its stomach,” she said, raising her palms. “Stand back.”

“More running?”

Yes … was Liliane’s thoughts.

Instead, she bit her lips as the images of her peers ran through her mind. Of the unspoken thoughts of a C-rank adventurer. She was no dazzling swordswoman, true … but for a few moments, she could pretend to be. Especially when the mining shaft was no goblin tunnel.

Here, she had enough space.

At least more than she had legs to run.

“The entrance is too far … I’ll defeat the matriarch instead. [Blade Guardian].”

Once more, a flash of light lit up the surroundings as an ethereal greatsword answered the call.

It was more damage than the weapon could cause.

As it flew forwards, the matriarch was already prepared. With the speed of an insect a fraction of its size, its legs shot forwards to devour the second appetiser. Instead, it snatched the air as the weapon turned upwards instead.

And then it raised itself, briefly revealing its smooth underside.

Liliane sucked in a short breath.

It was all she needed.

“[Blade Tempest]!”

She was no purveyor of destruction, but it was testament to her skill that she could continue to dangle a greatsword like a candle to a moth even as a wreath of illuminating swords appeared behind her.

The next moment, her hair swept forwards to the passing of 17 conjured blades. A new record.

They launched themselves into the only part of the matriarch not to be covered in a carapace of rubies. An explosion of dust filled the chasm as the creature’s monstrous frame was buried under the weight of the attack, driving it into the very ground.

One after another, the blades were lost amidst the swirling dust.

Only once all had been spent did Liliane give a twirl of her finger. She directed her [Blade Guardian] downwards, plunging in as an executing strike on whatever remained.

An audible crunch later, all the light from her swords faded. As did the gleam from a B-rank monster. She’d faced worse, of course. Far worse. But rarely without a wall of shields before her … and just as crucially, not to the sight of them getting up again after enduring one of her strongest spells.

Even before the dust had settled, the matriarch began to dig itself from its newly made crater.

Its legs were whole, protected by its carapace. The armour was dented and scarred, with much of its layer of gemstones stripped away … but aside from the few blotches of the flesh now revealed, the creature was wounded but whole.

Liliane was stunned.

She’d struck it cleanly with a small arsenal of weapons. More than enough to bring even a matriarch down to the last of its eight legs. Instead, it was already thrashing with fury as it clawed its way up.

And then she understood why.

Markings lit up the abdomen. A golden crest more telling than its layer of rubies. A sign of royalty.

Liliane was wrong.

This wasn’t a matriarch in the slightest.

“... A queen,” she said with a gasp.

It was the worst case scenario.

This wasn’t just an infestation. It was a nest. And so close to Marinsgarde?

It had to be destroyed.

Fortunately, it was small for a queen. Young and undefended. A new colony. But that was only for now. Soon, this entire region would be swarming with the creatures, and it would be more than flocks of lamb at risk.

Without hesitation, Liliane’s palms lit with magic … at least until a certain adventurer stepped forwards.

“Hold up,” said Caban with an appreciative nod. “As much as it’s a pleasure to watch A-ranks show me how it’s done, I can’t just let you do all the work.”

“Excuse me?” Liliane was appalled. “Mr. Oxwell, this is not the time to be fishing for extra credits!”

“No need to worry, then.” The man patted the weapon sheathed by his side. “It’s not a guild stamp I’m after. Just a chance to give a local blacksmith some work today.”

“This is a queen. Its armour just survived my [Blade Tempest]. It will survive your sword.”

The man simply shrugged.

“Definitely a scary lady … but I’ve seen scarier. So much so, that I’ve been practising for the opportunity to make amends. I’ve a special skill I’ve been meaning to show off. And I think this is as good a training partner as I’ve seen yet.”

Caban Oxwell grasped the hilt of his sword.

All at once, a circle of flames erupted from around his feet, matching, no, overpowering the many crimson eyes which now stared at him and him alone. The very embodiment of a swordsman's will.

The aura surrounding this young man changed like thunder on a clear day.

Gone was the sweat which caked his brows. If there was fear, it was now as lost as his smile. Pushing his heel back, he lowered his centre of gravity, and all thought of rescuing cats was now second in his mind.

The queen jewel spider paused. The legs which had been scrambling dug into the dirt. No longer a hunter lusting for easy prey, it hunkered as though wary, waiting, sheltering for what was to come.

And for good reason.

For a single moment, Liliane saw the shadow of something terrifying upon him, looming like an unsurpassable barrier. A smothering cloud which offered no hint of daylight. A stifling weight which judged his every action.

Liliane knew at once that this man had seen the face of adversity. And a spider queen did not compare.

“... So, I know this probably isn’t the B-rank trial,” said Caban, the sudden hardness of his smile only beaten by his eyes. “But just in case you do happen to be grading me, know this is the best I’ve got. A technique based on the most powerful sword ability I’ve ever seen.”

Liliane’s lips were in the motion of demanding that he cease.

But no words came out.

This was no simple C-rank adventurer. This was the apprentice of the most celebrated adventurer the kingdom had seen in hundreds of years.

Even if he was only an imitation, Liliane could not allow herself to disregard the pride on display. One which she so rarely felt in herself.

And so … she stepped back.

Lowering her palms, she instead gazed upon what the prodigy of Thomas Lainsfont wished to reveal.

She saw it in the way he stood. In the certainty of the way he grasped his sword. This strike would prove true. A technique handed down through the brutal teachings of a legendary swordsman. Liliane would witness something few souls ever had–and even fewer when faced with it.

Caban Oxwell released a breath.

And then–

“My sword mirrors the wind through the leaves, silent as my doubts, inevitable as the seasons. With this stroke, I honour the cycle, drawing strength from what I have lost. Fate has cast its thread, and now I carve its final path.”

He drew his sword.

Even before it left its sheath, it was wreathed in flames to match the circle around his feet. Time stood still, and all the world silently observed.

“Blazing Adjudicator Form, 10th Stance ... [Shortcake Cut]!”

Thus … Liliane waited, watched … and then tilted her head.

“... Hm?”

Her note of extreme confusion was the only sound she heard.

There was none from the young swordsman as he leapt. With a strike both agile and true, he cleaved directly through the waiting pincers of the spider queen, bursting through in a single movement.

The queen spider stood still. And then its two halves cleanly collapsed.

Yes … just as if he was cutting a shortcake.

Pwoooosh.

A moment later, all that could be seen of the young queen was an array of jewels as it shattered.

But these weren’t the false rubies which had covered its figure.

No … these were actual jewels.

Emeralds, sapphires and pearls which would turn the seamstresses of Marinsgarde into ravenous vultures. They scattered amidst golden bracelets, silver rings and coins of both colours. Because the greatest of jewel spiders didn’t merely guard treasure.

They consumed it, hoarding it within themselves.

Even so … Liliane’s eyes barely discerned the mound of gold.

Amidst the trove in the creature’s wake, a single item stood out, calling out to her.

A circlet.

Or something similar. One which had little reason to exist in a jewel spider queen’s abdomen. At least to those with normal eyes.

It was a crude thing, resembling the way goblins shaped whatever armour was too big for them. A band of rusted iron which had once been something else hammered and bent until it formed a shape fit for a scalp. As decoration, small precious stones had been inserted into the design, but it was even more coarse than the rest of the headpiece.

There was no value in this object … other than to mages.

Liliane could feel it. The magic. The power. The memories.

They all coursed through it like the blood in her veins. And she knew at once what this circlet was.

A crown of empowerment.

The most treasured item sought by archmages and great wizards. A symbol of power and status, for that is what it gave. A headpiece which bore the magic of the one who’d crafted it. A reminder more potent than any tombstone, for the secrets it held was also what it offered.

This was worth a king’s ransom.

“... Ouch, ouchouchouch, hamstring, hamstring, …”

Suddenly, Liliane was brought out of her stupor.

In complete contrast to the impressive image he’d conjured as he cleaved through the queen spider, Caban hopped on the spot, grabbing his leg as he desperately sought to soothe a pulled muscle.

Liliane let out a sigh, forcing the image of the crown from her eyes.

Mostly for her own good.

“That was well done, Mr. Oxwell.”

“Just Caban will do. And yeah, glad that worked. Usually I just end up hitting a tree.”

Liliane had nothing to say to that.

It was a very legitimate concern. When it came to reasons that warriors had broken noses, moving adversaries with teeth or weapons were second. Trees co-opted as training partners were the first.

“Not a bad haul though, eh?” he said, glancing over at the spilled treasure. “I reckon that’s enough to give me a look at the secret guild shop nobody’s meant to talk about. I sense a good pair of boots out of this.”

Liliane nodded.

More than just the boots, he was likely to receive the strings on them as well.

“This is a hoard worthy of an A-rank adventuring team,” she noted. “It’s no wonder the goblins were overly keen to test themselves. If this was only a matriarch, they would certainly have been able to overwhelm it.”

“Better than anything I’ve seen outside of my dreams, at least.” Caban smiled, before gesturing at what Liliane was doing her best not to be enthralled by. “It’s going to be fun claiming our cut for this. Ladies first, of course. I wouldn’t have been able to go through that thing if you hadn’t softened it first.”

Liliane almost snorted.

Not at Caban’s observation. That much was true.

No, she was amused at his candour. She’d seen adventuring teams disintegrate over the distribution of spoils. That was a topic more dangerous than the breath of dragons. And here he was offering the first pick out of politeness.

He had a lot to learn.

BrrwuuUmmmMuMmmmMm.

And once the shaking had stopped, Liliane could begin her explanation.

It didn’t, of course.

Suddenly, an encore of dust and a smattering of rubble fell from the ceiling. The wooden shafts creaked. And then the walls themselves began to break. One by one, chitinous legs burst forth from deep within the rocks.

Liliane let out a curse, remembering all too late that the loss of a spider queen was itself a death throe which summoned all its brood. Even those yet to hatch.

There was no need for words.

The two adventurers turned at once towards the direction of the entrance. Yet even if any light could be gleaned, it’d surely be smothered by the veil of darkness which was the mass of tiny spiderlings which began to swarm the walls, the ground, even the ceiling.

Hundreds. Thousands.

And all possessed the same red gleam in their eyes.

They would all cease to exist before the hour was done. But for what they intended, they likely only needed a few minutes.

Caban offered her a hopeful look.

“Right, well, I suppose this is when you normally do your handy teleport thing?”

Liliane clenched her fists.

Teleportation wasn’t her specialty in the slightest. Few had the knack for it, and even fewer could teleport more than their own clothes with them. The risk of them being sent deeper into the tunnels was the kindest one.

Still, she had little time and fewer options.

She raised her arms.

And then–she saw it.

The glint from the circlet. The magic seeping out like an overflowing river. A song which called to her like a mother’s lullaby.

It was a simple decision.

Without hesitation, she dove for the makeshift headpiece. The magic crackled in her hands. The promise of answers to secrets untold. Yet as she placed the crown of empowerment upon herself, the last thing she saw was a curious one.

For a single, fleeting moment, she thought she caught sight of a merchant sitting on a crate, idly twirling a beret upon his fingertip.

And then he was gone, lost amidst smoke and a parting smile.

The next moment–

Liliane saw everything.