268. Spider Nest
Inside Dungeon, Otto City, Free Cities, Southern Islands, Eastern Continent
“Ergh…” Kenric grunted, the pain in his head a dull, throbbing ache as he slowly returned to consciousness. His eyes fluttered open, adjusting sluggishly to the dim, oppressive light. He was in a vast, vaulted hall made of a strange, oily black wood, the atmosphere thick with the sickly-sweet odor of decay and stale venom.
His vision cleared, and a wave of nausea hit him. He saw bodies everywhere: some slumped lifelessly on the floor, others suspended in the air. He tried to move his arms, only to find his limbs were stiff, utterly immobilized, stuck fast to a grotesque, fibrous structure. He looked up, and the cold dread turned to ice in his veins.
He was dangling from the cavern ceiling, ensnared within a massive, glistening spider web.
A low, collective hissing sound brought his survival instincts roaring to the forefront, tearing him violently out of his dazed shock. In one dark corner, piled high like a mountain of twitching limbs and carapace, were dozens of enormous, grotesque spiders. They were resting, sated after their recent feast, their multi-faceted eyes dull with sleep. Kenric estimated there were at least fifty of the beast arachnids, all curled up together.
“You… you finally woke up,” a voice came, low and strained, from beside him.
Kenric turned his head with difficulty, confirming his fears. Hanging, stuck fast in the adjacent web cocoon, was Vice Captain John. John’s uniform was shredded, his face pale and slick with sweat, but his eyes were sharp and focused on the sleeping beasts.
“Where… where are we?” Kenric asked, his throat dry as drought-ridden earth.
“Where else?” John replied in a low, careful whisper, his gaze darting toward the dormant pile of spiders. “Inside a dungeon. The Syndicate’s headquarters was the epicenter of a breach. I’m not sure how long we’ve been here, since I also just regained consciousness. But it’s safe to say it’s been long enough for the spider magical beasts to have their fill of the survivors and retire for a nap.”
Kenric’s eyes swept over the silent victims hanging around them, their figures obscured by the thick, viscous silk. His rage, cold and absolute, returned. “We need to find a way to escape this thing before any more survivors are killed or consumed.”
Inside Dungeon, Malion Town, Malion Dukedom, Western Coastline of Ancorna Empire
Princess Serena felt a sudden, haunting cold settle heavily upon her shoulders, a chilling touch that pierced through the confusion of her dazed, chaotic exhausted sleep. A sharp, high-pitched ringing voice seemed to scream directly into her ear, tearing her from unconsciousness. With a sharp gasp, she opened her eyes.
The dim, cavernous confines of the Malion port were gone. She was now standing on a vast, unforgiving icy mountain range.
The biting cold was absolute, instantly chilling her to the bone. The landscape was rendered in stark monochrome, a world of snow and white, jutting formations of marble-like ice, all obscured by a blinding blizzard. The wind roared, a constant, howling current that drove crystalline shards of snow against her exposed skin, making her shiver uncontrollably.
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She gritted her teeth, her mind struggling to retain focus against the mental fog and the relentless, frozen air.
“A cold environment dungeon!” she complained, the effort of walking demanding every ounce of her strength. “We were at sea! Why in the name of the Goddess is this the kind of realm I’ve fallen into!”
She tried to call out to find any of her loyal mages or Lord Malion, but her voice was immediately swallowed by the gale. She couldn’t see a thing in the opaque, chaotic blizzard that obstructed her view, and her still-not-fully-recovered mind was slow to process direction. Alone and exposed in the frozen wastes, Serena trudged forward, forcing her numb legs to move, desperately searching for a flicker of light or a sign of the exit stairs leading to the next level. She knew one thing: to stop was to freeze, and to surrender was to be consumed by this chilling, silent hell.
Inside Dungeon, Lord’s Castle, Flask County, Mainland Ancorna, Ancorna Empire
The descent had been a chaos of collapsing stone and the screams of the dying, but where the basement of the Flask County Lord's Castle had once been, there was now a bizarre, impossible landscape.
Knight Captain Hughes, gritted his teeth, suppressing a groan as he put weight on his left leg. The explosion had thrown him against a stone archway, severely bruising his knee. He moved with a pronounced, painful limp, his posture a rigid mask of sheer willpower.
The environment was immediately disorienting. They were standing in what appeared to be the main corridor of an opulent palace, but one stretched to impossible, dizzying lengths. The walls were panelled with polished, dark mahogany, inset with gilded mirrors that reflected their flickering magic lights into the oppressive distance. Overhead, crystal chandeliers hung suspended by thick, unnaturally long chains, their candles perpetually unlit. The air was cold, scented with dust, decay, and the ghost of expensive perfume.
“This… this feels like a mockery,” Aurora whispered, her voice tight with suppressed grief and disbelief as she looked down the infinite expanse of the hallway. The familiar architecture of the Flask ancestral home had been twisted into a never-ending nightmare. “It’s like the architect never finished, never intended for it to end.”
Chief Advisor Ben, vomited again, the sound muffled by the thick velvet carpet that ran the length of the hall. He stumbled, clutching his stomach. “The stench of that man’s sacrifice… it’s clinging to the air.”
Aurora’s Knight-Captain David, kept his hand on the hilt of his sword, his eyes darting nervously between the endless shadows. “It's stable, Lady Aurora, but unnatural. It warps the perspective. I can’t see the end, even with my best efforts.”
Hughes forced himself to focus. He checked their personnel: five surviving knights: all grim, all armed with Kim Rifles and a handful of precious rounds plus David, Aurora, Emma, and Ben. Their position was fragile.
“We need to establish a tactical perimeter,” Hughes commanded, his voice hoarse but firm. He pushed himself off the wall, wincing as pain shot up his leg. “David, take two men and secure the rear. The entrance is unstable. We need to find the staircase for the exit.”
Aurora nodded, her fiery hair a bright contrast against the dark wood. “We’ll move slowly. The Cult wouldn’t waste resources for a single floor entire dungeon, there must be more floors and we have no idea on which floor we are”
But as they began to advance, the corridor began to play tricks on them. Every few yards, a pair of gilded double doors would appear, only to vanish again the moment they took a second step. The pattern of the mahogany paneling seemed to repeat itself endlessly, and the distant mirrors reflected only their own increasingly desperate forms.
“Captain,” one of the knights whispered, his rifle trained on the dim distance. “I think we’re walking in a circle. We passed that cracked mirror thirty paces ago.”
Hughes stopped, leaning heavily on his good leg. He stared at the spot the knight indicated, recognizing the unique fracture in the antique mirror. They hadn't moved forward at all.