The forest had gone unnaturally still.

Only the crunch of boots and the creak of carriage wheels echoed in the gloom as twilight melted into night. Mist slithered across the dirt path, curling around the trees like pale fingers.

Oliver felt it before he saw it — a faint vibration in the air, like the tremor of something huge moving beneath the soil. The horses neighed and thrashed, eyes rolling white.

"Hold the line!" Ronald barked from the front, sword drawn, his voice firm even as unease rippled through the knights.

Then it appeared.

A wet, tearing sound split the silence as something burst through the canopy — a spider the size of a wagon, its body glistening dark purple under the moonlight. Eight glossy eyes reflected the torchlight like shards of glass. Its legs — thick, jointed, and barbed — dug into the ground with sickening cracks. Each step left deep holes in the earth.

And it wasn't alone. Dozens of smaller spiders scuttled down from the branches above, their shrill hisses echoing through the forest.

"The hell is that?" one of the knights gasped, slashing at a smaller one that leapt from the shadows.

"Form up! Protect her highness's carriage!" Ronald roared.

Chaos erupted.

The giant spider lunged forward, firing a thick stream of webbing that struck three knights square in the chest, pinning them to a tree before they could react. They screamed, struggling against the gluey threads, but the more they pulled, the deeper they sank.

"Shit!" Oliver cursed and kicked open the carriage door, leaping down to the ground. His boots hit the dirt with a solid thud, sword already in hand.

The runes along its blade flared faintly — thin lines of molten orange pulsing like veins under the metal.

He grinned despite himself. Perfect chance to test it.

"I'll help too!" Ariana shouted, stumbling out after him, staff glowing with blue-white light.

"Stay back and cover the knights!" he barked, already moving.

The spider turned its head toward him, hissing, mandibles clacking wetly. Then it charged.

The ground trembled.

Oliver dashed forward, meeting the beast head-on. His blade met one of its legs — metal against chitin — and sparks exploded on impact. The sheer force sent a jolt up his arm, nearly tearing the sword from his hand.

"Damn, tough bastard," he hissed through his teeth.

The spider screeched and swung its leg sideways. Oliver ducked under it, feeling the air split above him, then slashed upward, cutting a long, shallow groove into its underside. The cut oozed dark green ichor that hissed and steamed on the ground.

The smell hit him instantly — acrid, rotten, sharp enough to make his eyes water.

Around him, knights were battling the smaller spiders. One screamed as fangs pierced his armor, his body convulsing before he went limp. Ariana raised her staff, shouting an incantation — a warm golden light burst outward, bathing the field. The surviving knights gasped as cuts and bruises began to mend, their strength returning.

"Buff active!" she yelled. "Focus on defense!"

Oliver didn't respond — he couldn't. The spider reared back, spitting a mass of webbing toward him. He sidestepped, the sticky strands splattering across the dirt. Before he could recover, one of its legs came down hard. He barely rolled aside in time.

Too close.

He sprang to his feet and slashed at the leg again. The rune on his sword pulsed brighter — the blade ignited with a faint orange flame. The impact sent a shockwave of heat through the clearing. The spider shrieked as the leg split open, oozing burning ichor.

"Yeah, that hurts, doesn't it," Oliver growled.

The creature retaliated instantly — its clawed leg struck him full in the chest. The blow sent him flying backward, crashing into a fallen tree. The air burst from his lungs as he hit the ground hard, his sword skidding several feet away.

He coughed, tasting blood. His ribs screamed in pain. For a moment, his vision blurred.

But then, something strange — warmth spread from deep within his body. His breathing steadied, his pain dulled. He could feel his wounds closing, muscles tightening again.

The Rune of Vigor was working.

He staggered back to his feet, wiping blood from his lip, and smirked. "You hit like a cart, but I'm still standing."

The spider hissed again, its mandibles clicking furiously.

Oliver dashed forward, faster than before — his body lighter, movements sharper. He snatched his sword mid-run, rolled under the beast's belly, and slashed upward in one clean motion. The blade tore through soft flesh, and a torrent of black-green ichor poured out.

The spider screamed, rearing up in agony. Oliver didn't stop — he pivoted and drove his sword straight into the wound, fire runes glowing bright as he twisted the blade.

The monster thrashed violently, smashing the ground with its limbs. The shockwaves sent dust and debris flying, knocking several knights off their feet. One of the spider's claws raked across Oliver's shoulder, slicing deep — flesh and blood spraying across the dirt.

He groaned, staggering back. The pain was sharp, searing — but within seconds, he felt it fade again, the wound knitting shut before his eyes.

Ariana's voice echoed from behind. "Oliver, watch out!"

He looked up just in time to see another smaller spider leap at him from the side. He ducked, swung, and split it in half.

The battlefield was chaos — burning ichor, torn limbs, smoke, and shouting. The knights fought desperately, hacking at smaller spiders while Ariana's spells lit up the darkness. Every few seconds, she cast healing bursts, her mana running low, her face pale but determined.

Oliver turned back to the giant spider — it was limping now, one leg half-severed, ichor dripping steadily. He could see its chest swelling unnaturally.

It's about to spit again.

He ran — straight toward it.

The spider let out a screech and fired a thick jet of web. He rolled aside, flames trailing from his sword as he swung again and again. Each strike landed heavier than the last. The rune on the sword pulsed brighter with every cut, feeding on his mana — but his mana didn't drop. The Rune of Vigor kept feeding his energy back in waves.

Finally, he saw the opening — the soft spot between the mandibles. He lunged forward and drove the blade straight into it with a roar.

The sword sank in up to the hilt. The spider's shriek tore through the forest like thunder. It convulsed violently, crashing to the ground, its legs twitching wildly before finally going still.

Silence fell.

Oliver stood there, breathing hard, covered in green ichor, his blade still glowing faintly red. His chest rose and fell — not from exhaustion, but exhilaration.

He exhaled slowly and turned toward the others. The knights were staring at him in awe. The ones freed from the webs were helping the injured up, while Ariana leaned against her staff, sweat dripping down her forehead.

"Nice work," he called out.

She gave him a tired smile. "You too. You looked like you were enjoying that."

He smirked, wiping the ichor off his face with the back of his hand. "Can't help it. It's been a while since I had this much fun."

Ariana rolled her eyes. "It's not even that long that you almost died by goblins."

"Don't mention that. It's my dark history."

Behind them, Ronald dismounted, his gaze fixed on the dead monster. He didn't speak for a long time. Then, quietly, he said, "Impressive."

Oliver sheathed his sword, its runes dimming to silence. "Guess we're not just freeloaders after all."

At that some knights flinched.

They understood what Oliver was implying.

They everted their eyes.

*****

"Let's rest here for the night," Ronald announced, his tone brooking no argument. The fatigue in his voice matched the exhaustion etched on every knight's face. "It's already dark, and traveling through this forest at night would be suicide. We'll resume at dawn."

The knights, battered and grim, gave weary nods. A few sat heavily on the ground, removing dented armor or wrapping bandages around bleeding limbs. The smell of spider ichor still lingered in the air, thick and foul.

Ariana knelt beside one of the wounded, her staff flickering weakly. The light sputtered out with a faint crackle, and she sighed, slumping forward. "That's… all I've got left," she muttered, wiping sweat from her brow.

"It's fine," Oliver said, crouching beside her. "You've done more than enough. They'll manage with potions."

She nodded tiredly. Around them, knights were pulling open leather satchels, pouring red potions over wounds and grimacing as the liquid hissed against their skin. Others were wrapping torn cloth around gashes, helping each other limp back toward the carriages.

Ronald approached the first carriage, tapping twice on its wooden door. "Your Highness," he said quietly, "the danger has been subdued. We'll be camping here until morning."

A soft, feminine voice answered from inside. "Understood, Ronald. Set the camps."

"As you command."

He turned, gesturing to the men. "You heard her. Set up camp. I want perimeters cleared and defenses in place."

At once, the knights moved into motion — efficient despite their fatigue. Some began clearing fallen branches and debris, others dragged the smaller spider corpses to the edge of the clearing. A few worked together to haul the massive carcass to the center, then slit its abdomen open, letting the thick, pungent blood pool across the dirt.

"Spread it out," Ronald ordered. "The stench will keep lesser beasts away."

The air filled with the metallic tang of monster blood. The smell was revolting, but effective.

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