The chaos was overwhelming.
The Taratects poured in from all directions, an unending wave of skittering legs and clashing fangs. Their silken threads lashed out, crisscrossing the battlefield, seeking to bind his limbs. Poison-laced mandibles snapped at him from every angle, hungry for flesh.
But he was too strong.
Their venom? Useless. His Poison Resistance nullified the effects before they could take hold.
Their fangs? Pathetic. They barely scratched him, their mandibles incapable of piercing his hardened flesh.
Their threads? Fragile. He ripped through them like paper, his raw strength far surpassing their binding power.
They were nothing.
And yet—there were too many.
His Nethrite Dagger flashed in the darkness, cleaving through carapaces like they were made of clay. But he didn't just rely on his weapon—his fists, elbows, and legs became instruments of carnage. Every punch shattered exoskeletons, every kick sent bodies flying, tearing apart their formations. He moved like a storm of destruction, ruthless, methodical—pure instinct honed by desperation.
But no matter how many he killed, more kept coming.
His breathing grew heavier. His movements slowed slightly. Not from fatigue—from attrition.
The fight wasn't difficult because of their strength.
It was difficult because of their numbers.
Even an elephant could be dragged down by rats if they swarmed in large enough numbers.
And he was the elephant.
But these weren't mindless creatures anymore.
They were learning.
The Taratects began to coordinate. They struck from blind spots, their attacks synchronized. Some of them even sacrificed themselves, launching their bodies into his face to obscure his vision, while others surged forward, seeking to bind his legs.
For every ten he killed, twenty more took their place.
He was in trouble.
Then—
[Quest Complete!]
[Reward - Phantom Stride Unlocked!]
A new skill. But no time to check it.
He was still fighting.
He hadn't even had time to examine the Silkweave Cloak from the previous phase, and now—
[Chain Quest - Phase 3 Initiating]
[Kill 10 Great Taratects]
[Reward - Recovery Potion x5]
[Penalty - None]
[Time Limit - None]
His eyes widened.
"I haven't even dealt with the lesser ones yet, and you want me to kill the GREAT ones?!"
The fact that there was no penalty and no time limit meant one thing—
This next phase would be a nightmare.
Then—
Everything went wrong.
The Taratects finally overwhelmed him.
Hundreds of them piled onto his massive frame, their combined weight forcing him to the ground. His arms and legs struggled, but the sheer number of claws, legs, and silken bindings pressing down on him made it impossible to move.
The minor scratches and cuts—insignificant on their own—began stacking up. The accumulated damage from hundreds of bites and slashes was taking its toll.
For the first time since waking up in this hellhole…
He felt true danger.
His vision blurred as the weight of the Taratects buried him in darkness.
The air grew thick. Suffocating. The stench of venom and decaying silk filled his lungs. His heartbeat pounded in his ears, muffled by the constant chittering and skittering of the swarm pressing down on him.
Then, just as the last sliver of light disappeared—
A low voice echoed from beneath the Taratects.
[Phantom Stride.]