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B4 — 10. The Crimson Flower

Shit…

The cavern ground beneath Red buckled, rampaging arachnids fracturing areas all across the cave, destabilizing the terrain with every reckless lunge. Red barely shifted his weight before the floor gave way entirely, sending him and the writhing mass of creatures down a steep incline.

Dust billowed, obscuring his vision, but every instinct in him zeroed in on survival and keeping their attention. He pivoted, avoiding jagged spear-like stones the thélméthra sent spraying in all directions, devastating the debris and flinging it in every direction.

Persistent things.

One of the drones hurtled down toward him from the high ceiling, parting the dust, its colossal figure aimed to body slam him. Diving left, he managed to evade its legs as they penetrated the stone, sinking half its body into the floor.

Illuminated red eyes darting left, he found legs scrambling for purchase as another clawed at the crumbling surface, yet another cavern below the one they’d just fell through. War spun to avoid it, leveraging the beast’s momentum as it crashed into another, their impossibly hard exoskeletons brittle and cracking on impact against one another.

“Nice shot, bud!” he roared, sword appearing in his right hand, his left missing. “Damn, you’re strong bastards.”

He pressed forward, swiping his blade at one’s exposed side to rip a silky gooey substance out. Red’s brow furrowed upon spotting the twitching organs, beating at an impossible rhythm. As the dust began to settle, he felt the hair on his arm rise: four dozen were shaking off the rubble, not one so much as phased from the collapse.

However, it was the massive frame of the elite that rose out of the heavy stone fragments that forced a smile on Red’s lips. It opened its monstrous mouth and hissed, steam billowing out of its joints, acid peppering the floor, liquifying the stone as it charged.

There you are… His lips tightened underneath his helmet, noticing dozens upon dozens of the spiders crawling over the walls and floor, all center on him. As much as I hate to admit it. I can’t take all of you head on.

Making a snap decision, he let out a low, commanding whistle—his call to Carnage—and his warhorse answered, thundering through the shadows like a crimson specter to appear by his side. War swung up in a single fluid motion, the leather reins meeting his gauntleted grip, and they surged down a twisting tunnel as the arachnids screeched in pursuit.

The longer this takes, the harder it is for me…but I just need to buy enough time, War grimly mused, sensing the mounting pressure of dozens more creatures narrowing in behind him. If this leads to a dead-end… Perfect!

Racing into another wide, open space, Carnage’s hooves met the waterway they’d entered, sending ripples through the still basin as his horse glided forward, unbothered by the liquid terrain.

War grimaced when glancing behind him, the tank-like arachnids climbing the tunnel walls and ceiling, relentless. In their frenzy, the Xaltan-fused creatures flung webs at random, lacking precision and intent as the spider powers overwhelmed their frail understanding of the creatures they’d become.

Still, it was far from harmless. The air grew thick with the strands, sticky webs threading across the cavern like haphazard nets that were like steel. War’s lips twisted into a grim smile, his horse side stepping a thick line of silk that snapped from the ceiling.

They’re calming down, he observed, glancing down for half a second at his missing left arm. He was crippled when he’d tried to fight the massive brute, and [Aura of Conflict] was waning now that he wasn’t actively fighting them. No use hesitating!

He clenched his claymore, teeth flashing as he whipped his mount around, bringing him into a rapid charge. The towering silhouette of the elite thélméthra stood at the water’s edge—a hulking mass of razor limbs and gleaming eyes, still thrashing but gradually regaining focus.

War’s smile sharpened, mirroring his weapon’s edge as they approached. He used his supernatural strength to force himself to stand on the saddle, reading himself for the attack.

“Let’s go!”

Carnage let out a battle cry, and together they surged forward, heat and kinetic force building with every step his horse took. Water sprayed out from under them as they carved a path toward the elite, its web-throwing minions momentarily stunned by his change of direction.

As War launched himself from the horse’s back, his claymore met the gleaming tip of the elite thélméthra’s foreleg in a brutal clash. Steel scraped against stone-like chitin, a shower of sparks illuminating the creature’s gem-like eyes as it held his gaze, unblinking. The creature retracted slightly, mouth gaping open.

Clever, War thought as a pool of acid sprayed out to engulf him. Twisting his lips into a mocking smile in his airborne, vulnerable position, he pulled back his arm, channeling the remaining kinetic force he’d stolen from its attack. But not clever enough.

With a sharp inhale, he funneled it into his blade. In one powerful, sweeping motion, he swung his claymore, fanning the acid away in a wide arc, redirecting the liquid back onto the thélméthra’s own body. A feral shriek echoed off the cavern walls as the beast recoiled in fright, only, Red’s smile faded when the colorless liquid simply splattered its body without effect.

“Resilient bastards.”

In the next heartbeat, Carnage was upon it, his entire weight compressed into a single, devastating charge. The warhorse slammed into the elite with a force that reverberated through the stone walls, knocking it back toward the tunnel.

The impact sent a splash of acid across Carnage and his side—unfortunate—rapidly eating through his armor, but he’d seen this already. Before it could eat his flesh and bone, Carnage and his armor erupted in a flash of crimson light, dissipating into crimson mist.

Dropping onto the stone ground, he narrowly skirted a bubbling pool of noxious liquid. The drones were on him in moments. His entire body braced with each shift in weight, pivoting to avoid the sharp edges of fallen stalagmites, spear-like legs, and darting after the elite to escape the swarming hoard.

He ran right past the elite, crimson aura brightening and fueling his physical prowess without his armor; the massive spider collapsed a part of the tunnel, sending dust billowing around him but he knew where he was going.

“Red…” It was Black, her voice resonant, calm as a creeping shadow. “What is the situation?”

War grit his teeth, eyes narrowing as he used quick footwork to dance left, a sharp point passing through where his head had just been. Twisting in a sharp circle, he spotted an exposed critical junction and slashed upward, using his carried momentum—it cleaved partway through before lodging into what he assumed was bone.

Son of a bitch! Abandoning his sword, he kept his focus on the twelve thélméthra crawling over one another to impale him. These things are impossible to take down! Hahaha!

More excited than angry, he used the heat rising in his flaming body to wrap his arms around one of the lunging arachnids. Pulling it into a sharp cyclone, he yelled out his effort, muscles bulging while forcing it off its feet to plow into two others.

They’re getting more precise by the minute! Thélméthra, Black…

He could hardly breathe as another jumped from the wall, two more from the ceiling, forcing him to skip backward again. His blade flashed further down the black hallway, dispersing to reappear in his right hand to deflect another flurry of blows; he held his ground, [Immovable] keeping him stationary against their strikes.

Black didn’t even question him, her tone becoming serious. “How many?”

An army, at least five dozen—it’s the elite that’s the problem… Jennifer is after something further inside. They’re stabilizing.

His eyes widened as the arachnids parted, and the giant closed in on him. He sent a few more words through the communication to get the points across but he was too focused on the approaching behemoth to put his attention on what transferred to his sister.

With his armor dismissed, War’s muscles flexed with renewed strength, each movement fluid yet charged with lethal precision. He sidestepped the former chief of the Xaltan’s thrust, his eyes catching the arc of its massive leg, now barbed and dripping with acidic venom.

He’s got even more tricks up his sleeve?

As it came dangerously close, he raised his left arm’s stub defensively, the momentum of its swing sliding off him, leaving his exposed ribs searing from even that brief contact with the toxic appendage.

Before he could fully regain balance, the thélméthra chief lunged again. War twisted his body, pivoting to strike with his claymore in one powerful arc. The blade rang against the elite’s exoskeleton but failed to connect with any visible crack—then he noticed it.

Its once-damaged joints and splintered carapace now gleaming, entirely restored.

The bastard heals?!

War’s teeth flashed in a feral grin, tinged with frustration and admiration. “Regenerating now, are you? I’ll just have to keep going until I find your weak point,” he snarled, voice low with a dangerous edge.

In his mind, Black’s voice hummed with deadly calm. “The witches are safe, Red. We met with Zargoth’s forces. We’re on our way!”

Good, you know the details, War replied sharply, blade flashing up to deflect a strike aimed at his legs; he could hardly keep the blow from moving him, even with [Immovable]. He ducked low, eyes scanning the wide cave for any escape routes and spotting another unfortunate bit of news. I’ll be glad to have you.

Dammit! The others are regenerating—just like this brute, he added, leaping aside as another massive arachnid body slammed into the ground beside him; he was running out of options: the acid had eaten up to his left bicep now. Jennifer is deep below, looking for something the thélméthra queen hid away, or something like that.

He grit his teeth, narrowly avoiding another swipe from the elite, its leg nearly skewering him where he’d stood. His pulse spiked as the Xaltan chief swapped directions at a seemingly impossible angle, barreled forward to crush him.

With quick footwork, War dodged left on pure instinct, letting the creature’s momentum carry it past him and into a wall of crumbling rock. It tore through the barrier, and a violent flood of water surged through, spilling over the arachnid’s massive frame and dragging it away into a nearby hole. War watched as it disappeared, his laughter echoing through the tunnel.

“Nice swim, chief,” he muttered, but his reprieve was short-lived. The remaining drones advanced, filling the cavern with the hiss of their acidic joints and the steady clacking of their legs on stone. “And now you’re all learning how to use acid… Great.”

With a flash of crimson light, Carnage reappeared, kicking the left one aside to allow him the means to leap over the surging river that was now flooding the tunnel. He ran uphill, toward the collapsed cavern the ritual had been in.

His red-furred horse was right beside him, taking a swipe to the thigh by a drone, not that damage like that had much effect on the undead. Jumping on Carnage’s back, he managed to make it to the cavern before the hissing thélméthra caught up, yet Red’s eyes widened when words began to echo through the tunnels—the thélméthra Xaltan warriors.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

“I can…see!”

“I feel everything!”

“I am one with the earth!”

“I taste him!”

Well, this isn’t creepy… I’m down an arm, fam.

Ash’s low chortles filtered through their connection as his big brother entered the conversation. “Lose another for all I care. Just don’t lose the heart, Little Brother.”

Red grinned, leaping off Carnage to land on top of an arachnid, using the blunt end of his sword to smash one of their gem-like eyes that hadn’t fully healed; it shattered.

“I see beyond sight, insignificant—”

Carnage re-materialized beside it, the warhorse’s hooves smashing against its body and sending it tumbling into the stream for a swim.

Chuckling, War mounted him again, breaking through clusters of the arachnids. He didn’t get far before having to separate again, Carnage flashing in and out of existence around him, keeping them at bay and offering critical moments for him to regain ground.

War’s chest heaved, his ribs unusually raw and exposed from acid that had eaten through flesh at some point, showing the extent of even a brief contact with their saliva.

Red’s grip tightened on his claymore as he used the writhing drone beneath him to impale another, the creature’s shrill hiss echoing off the stone walls as its carapace shattered under the arachnid’s force.

If I keep up like this, you won’t need to…

War’s eyes narrowed, sensing the shift in the air. A subtle vibration rippled underfoot, the unmistakable sign of something far more dangerous lurking beneath.

The floor erupted.

The drone he was mounted on was flung aside like a broken toy as he was thrown into the air, and the towering form of the elite thélméthra—the Xaltan Chief Noklan—rose from the fissure. His legs steamed with acid that ate away at stone and echoed with the sound of power barely contained.

Damn…

“War?!” Black growled.

The chief’s speed had surged, faster than anything he’d encountered before. A swipe caught him mid-flight, tearing through the flesh of his foot, severing it cleanly, while another blurred leg lanced through his gut, pinning him with shocking precision.

No pain came as War took in Noklan’s renewed power, the chief’s multiple legs rooted firmly around him, an unmistakable aura emanating from his form: he’d learned how to control his body. Low rumbles shook the air, and a voice, cold and contemptuous, whispered through the cavern.

“Insignificant, undead… Do you see now? You stand before true supremacy.”

War’s lip curled, no blood trickling down his frame, the inner emerald glow of his undead organs casting a glow over the thélméthra’s black form, but his eyes sparkled with a fierce glint.

“Supremacy, huh?” His voice low, mocking. “You might want to rethink the title. Real kings don’t need an audience to cheer ‘em on.”

Noklan’s jaws opened, acidic saliva dripping from his maw, seething. Carnage burst from below in a flash of light, charging straight at the elite. But Noklan seemed to anticipate the attack, a foreleg snapping out to batter the warhorse away without effort.

Red’s laughter echoed through the cavern, raw and taunting. “Should really learn a thing or two about humility, Noklan. You might learn you’re not the only monster in the dark.” He met the Xaltan’s intimidating gem-like gaze, a grim smile pulling at his mouth. “You’re too arrogant.”

Noklan walked forward into the open area, water dripping down as his spider soldiers gathered to witness his victory. His jaws parted, and a torrent of acid sprayed from his maw.

“No! Red!”

Black’s voice rang out. As a meteor shot through the falling stream above, a ruby veil enveloped him, and he was carried away into a soft, velvet blanket to places unknown.

* — * — *

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Camellia hurtled through the air, a fierce blur against the shadows of the cavern, her bare feet landing squarely on the elite’s head with enough force to fracture the stone floor beneath. Her red hair fanned around Red, cocooning him in a shield of silk-like strands as she removed him from the elite’s leg and flung him upward.

I will handle the elite and drones; take Red out of the cave, Black! she shouted through the Nexus as her gaze locked onto the beast beneath her. Continue after the primary prey.

The elite thélméthra growled in frustration—a sound unlike anything she’d heard from the guardians of their nests. She felt the intricate network of its nerves come to life beneath her, a surge of energy sparking through its body. She knew the beast was about to strike, knew every twitch within its body; she was faster.

Balling her fist, she drove it toward the upper third eye, aiming to sever the nerve center beneath in order to temporarily disconnect its ability to detect her own movements. To her surprise, her strike left only a faint dent.

Is the power difference this much? In that case, I must reevaluate my approach.

Time seemed to crawl as she registered the elite’s next move: a wide projection of silk, spilling from the creature’s spinnerets, forming a crude but effective web that moved midair, shooting toward her; pitifully slow, by even her low standards.

Instinct kicking in, she leaped through a gap in the tangled weave, her hair spreading out to anchor itself to the web and seize control.

Yet, the moment she connected, a powerful counter-signal rebounded through her, sending a violent tremor down her spine. It was like being smacked by her mother—a raw display of strength rather than finesse.

A guardian! An elite repelled me?! she thought, her fingers trembling as she cut the connection, her ruby locks being absorbed into the elite’s mess of a nest as she landed on the wall, her lips twisted in frustration. And it’s not even close to refined! If Mom saw that, she would string me up and…I don’t want to think about it!

The imposter let out a mocking laugh, the sound grating in her ears; it felt so…unnatural in her language. But she was already analyzing, observing every pulse, every nerve flare from within the elite’s body, her senses dissecting its movements.

In that frozen moment, she saw through the creature’s façade—operating at barely five percent efficiency, it wasn’t using the full capability of its frame or many offensive attributes. Only the spinnerets and tips of its feet had been activated to manage its silk; it was wasting untold potential.

I can handle it. However, not if there are any unexpected interruptions in web control…

The whole room moved in slow motion around her, and she noticed the other drones, gradually improving in their motor skills, each second adjustments in their frames signaling they were learning to adapt. But they were still clumsy, still limited.

They’re vulnerable. But while the elite is here…I am.

Hearing his name passed through the Nexus as Black carried Red to the surface to meet the Empress and Ash rode further in to confront Jennifer, Camellia watched her opponent intently. As Noklan continued his one-sided speech, his voice dripped with venomous arrogance, each syllable grated on Camellia’s heightened senses, a twisted reflection of her kind’s grace.

“You…you feel similar to me. As if I were—”

She was on him in a flash, faster than his sluggish senses could track, her sights locked on his spinnerets. He tried to shield himself, expelling silk in a dense spread to form a makeshift barrier. But Camellia’s movements were razor-sharp, trained through her mother’s unyielding lessons on one day potentially facing her sisters or cousins.

She sliced through the strands with a swift, precise slash of her hand, her attack sending a calculated shock through his neural pathways. Noklan’s hulking form jerked, caught off-guard by her false surge of energy but she couldn’t harm him in that way as she was—it was merely a feigned power struggle meant to distract.

Before he could react, she was upon his weakened web, landing on its frayed connections. With one swift, lethal slice, she severed the critical thread at his spinnerets, paralyzing his silk output and leaving him disoriented.

Now, Camellia’s ruby hair spread outward like a serpentine cloak, connecting to the surrounding threads and weaving through the gaps in his eight legs—places he’d barely grasped how to control. With precise control that felt sluggish and graceless compared to her sisters, she bound him, securing his legs and harnessing her own to the ground to tether herself.

Her silk anchored him in a vice-like grip, and then she spun him. Pulling the false elite into a rapid whirlwind, Noklan’s hulking frame became a blur of frenzied limbs and strangled hisses. The force of her motion created a wide, spiraling cyclone that hurled nearby drones aside as they scrambled to escape, the violent motion flinging them back like debris in a storm.

She tightened her hold, building momentum before releasing him in one fierce throw, sending his form smashing through the ceiling, through layers of stone until his shadow vanished into the jungle above, leaving only a trail of broken rubble in his wake and falling rain in the revealed hole.

As the dust settled, Camellia’s form emerged, a shadow framed by the fractured stone and shimmering web remnants. Her wide, ruby-red eyes glowed in the dim cavern light, each iridescent gleam carrying a predatory hunger as she tasted their fear. Her expression was serene, almost delicate, but the faint, eerie curve of her lips betrayed her inner thoughts.

Noklan would be back soon enough…but not soon enough.

Slowly, she tilted her head, eyes narrowing with a sinister amusement that prickled the air with tension. Her voice came soft, laced with a strange sweetness, yet edged with real venom that dripped on each note.

“Well now…” Her voice slipped out like a dark lullaby her middle sister liked to hum when hunting, curling around the remaining drones, seeping into the cracks of their fragile minds. “Let’s see if any of you little drones can dance on my web. I’m getting hungry,” she giggled, licking her lips, “and mother used to say drones have a certain…flavor to them.”

Camellia’s ruby eyes glinted with amusement as the remaining Xaltan drones hesitated, paralyzed by the unseen tension filling the cavern that only their species would feel when in her presence. Masked, unique, and faint electrical pulses crackled through the air, her senses extending through the chaotic network of silk strands that they felt.

She assessed the disjointed labyrinth—her former nest—that they had trespassed and sullied: tunnels that twisted in ways foreign to her species’ design were soon discovered, strange branches leading into collapsed passages—evidence of something having burrowed here decades before. Abandoned, gutted, her work…her mother’s work, desecrated.

Her gaze turned to the defective creatures with a chilling stillness, dissecting their feeble attempts at coordination her species prided itself on.

Abominations.

She traced a thread of silk connecting one of the drones and watched it twitch in her hidden, slow-moving web, sluggishly preparing to attack with a single, jagged leg aimed at her head. Camellia’s lips parted in a bewildered smile, the attack barely worth her attention when it should be deadly.

The creature moved beyond inefficiently for the potency its muscles could exert, its many sensory abilities to identify weaknesses squandered. With the faintest pulse of energy, her silk snared its leg midair, yanking it into the ground. It shivered, a spark of recognition flashing in its dull jewel eyes as she turned toward it, a dualistic combination of curiosity mingling with fear in its shaky voice.

“What…what are you? It’s like you’re… Life… Death… All things.”

The silk shifted, tightening around it, tendrils weaving through the threads and drawing closer, tighter, as she extended her reach outward past the others, making it her territory.

Her crimson eyes glowed brighter as she approached the paralyzed thing, not of her brood, her gaze boring into the false drone’s panicked internal reverberations. She lifted a hand to its twitching mandibles, and the creature froze, its entire nervous system locked under her touch.

Camellia’s voice slipped out, soft yet laced with cold command. “Because in my womb is your life… In my belly is your death. And your existence is to fulfill my every desire.” Her fingers tightened around its mandibles, sending vibrations through its body that made it quake in recognition. “You are made for me…yet you are defective. I no longer have any use for you, which means…”

The drone’s voice cracked, barely a whisper. “Death.”

Camellia leaned in, her hands gliding down the hard edges of its chelicerae, cracking the base. “Death.”

Threads extended from her fingernails, slipping into its mouth and burrowing through its innards. Her silk overtook it, hijacking its nerves, repurposing its silk glands as she seized control. She applied a steady, unyielding pressure, the sickening sound of cracking exoskeleton echoing through the cavern as she ripped it down the center. Gore and silk exploded outward, a shudder rippling through the remaining Xaltan drones.

A storm of silk unfurled from her expanding web, cascading across the ground, the walls, and the ceiling. It hardened into needle-sharp spikes, each hissing with steaming pressure to expand. The false thélméthra began to flee, their shrieks filling the air, but her network was faster, binding their legs and hoisting them into the air. Silk coiled around them, spikes piercing their bodies and fusing with their silk glands to further develop her nest.

One by one, the imposters were seized and suspended within the matter of seconds, their limbs twitching in helpless agony as her web invaded every aspect of their being. Within moments, the cavern was littered with their limp, lifeless forms, their bodies swathed in writhing silk, now part of her.

Gore dripped from her frame, staining the ground below as she absorbed the scattered threads of her web, repurposing them to form a thick lattice that crawled into the cracks of the stone. She felt the tremor of something massive above electrifying the air, and with a silent command, the silk threaded downward, burrowing through the lower tunnels to evade the invading hostile force.

Noklan crashed back into the cavern, his massive form landing with a roar that shook the walls, his laughter filled with manic exhilaration. “You… You’re one of them. The real thing.”

Camellia’s smile widened, an unnatural glint sparking in her human eyes. “Real things… I am the Queen’s eldest daughter.”

Silk-like tendrils extended from her hair, reaching toward one of the fallen drones and collecting a sensory organ. She raised it to her lips, sinking her teeth into it, the satisfying crunch resonating in the silence as she chewed. Her gaze held Noklan’s, glowing gem eyes, brimming with a dark, simmering hunger.

“Mother was right,” she murmured, licking the last of the blood from her lips. “Drones have a rather unique flavor.” Her smile deepened, a predatory gleam flashing across her face. “What will a guardian taste like? I suppose I am about to find out.”

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