Chapter 172: Inside the Cave
The cave swallowed them whole.
Darkness pressed in from every side as Inigo and Lyra stepped beyond the web-laced mouth of the cavern. Only the flickering torch in Lyra’s hand pushed back the shadows, revealing a long, descending tunnel lined with slick stone and hanging strands of silk. The air was dense—humid, sticky, and foul. Every breath carried the scent of mildew and decay, layered with something sharp and venomous.
Inigo moved first, rifle raised. His boots crunched softly over gravel and brittle bones. The M4 felt solid in his hands, its cold body steady against the thrum of anticipation rising in his chest. He had fought worse things than spiders—but that didn’t make this pleasant.
"Webs are fresh," Lyra whispered behind him. "They’re close."
Inigo nodded once. His enchanted eyes scanned the dim corridor. Small glints of movement danced between strands. His free hand flexed instinctively, channeling his magic. Blue light shimmered faintly over his legs.
Then he vanished—just for a blink—and reappeared ten meters ahead in a flash of speed, silent as a shadow.
Lyra jogged up behind him, bow already nocked with an arrow. "A little warning next time?"
"Gotta keep you on your toes," he replied.
The tunnel widened, opening into a larger chamber. The torchlight revealed nests—bulbous sacs clinging to the walls, pulsing faintly like grotesque hearts. Egg clusters, no doubt.
"Targets on the ceiling," Inigo muttered.
Above, pale shapes crawled within the webs. Spiderlings. Dozens. Each the size of a small dog, with legs that clacked like bone on stone. Red eyes glimmered in the dark.
One dropped.