[Quest: Kill ????? Reward - ????? Penalty - ????? Time limit - ?????]
"Even the system doesn't recognize this thing?! And how the hell am I supposed to kill this flash?"
Shwet's heart pounded in his chest. His body was frozen, his breath shallow. The Assassin Spider stood before him, its glossy black carapace reflecting the faint glow of the dungeon. Unlike the Great Taratects he had fought before, this one wasn't just a mindless brute—it was intelligent.
The creature was smaller than a Great Taratect but radiated an aura of absolute confidence. Its multiple crimson eyes locked onto him, filled with something disturbing—mockery. It knew it was stronger. It knew he was helpless.
A silent understanding passed between them.
Hunter and hunted.
Shwet wasn't foolish enough to deny the truth—he was outclassed. The Assassin Spider's speed and precision were far beyond his own. He knew it was superior to him, and he also knew that the taratect was aware of its superiority and that very knowledge could be his weapon. He needed to exploit its sense of superiority.
The problem?
He couldn't even move.
The deep slashes on his ankles had rendered him immobile. Running was out of the question. Even standing was impossible. All he could do was fight with his mind.
And his mind told him to check the Skill Store.
With shaking hands, he flicked through the system interface, searching desperately for anything that could turn the tide. A skill that could restore mobility. A miracle.
He couldn't find a skill that could relieve him of his helpless situation.
A skill did exist that would work perfect for him at the moment but it was out of his range.
[Skill - Heal (High Rare)
Price - 75000] He started at the skill with helpless eyes, he couldn't imagine getting it anytime in the near future. He kept on searching for a suitable skill. "Damn it!! Isn't there bloody skill to get me out of this situation!!"
After searching for some time, he found something. "This might do the job! The chances are very low but still"
[Skill - Last Stand (Rare)]
Price - 25,000 Sigils]
A wound ignoring skill. It was costly, but what was the point of hoarding Sigils if he was dead? He purchased it instantly.
[Sigils: 28,450 → 3,450]
[Skill - Last Stand
Level - 1
Allows the user to enter a heightened state 'Zone' for 10 seconds, ignoring all wounds and fatigue, of a certain degree, relative to the level of skill
Cooldown - 3 minutes]
He had acquired a skill that could help him out of his situation. But the problem was his ability to utilise the skill. He had no prior experience using the skill, he didn't know it's repercussions. A wrong move could get him killed.
Across from him, the Assassin Spider hadn't moved.
It just stood there, watching.It wasn't attacking. It wasn't finishing him off.
He thought of a plan. He would activate the skill to check it's effect, without letting the spider notice. "No attacking, just testing"
He activated the skill, he immediately entered the zone, he felt free, he could move his injured legs but he didn't, in order to not alert the enemy. After the skill was over, he felt increased fatigue, his stamina lowered by a huge margin. "This skill really is the last stand. What a price to pay for using it just once! But now I know what to expect. The next time I use it, I will get your head you Little shitty bug!"
As he was cursing the spider infront of him, he heard it.
Footsteps.
A soft, rhythmic clicking echoed through the dungeon.
From the shadows, three more Taratects emerged.
But these weren't like the others.
Their bodies were stark, unnatural white, almost glowing under the dungeon's dim light. Their legs were longer, sharper, their silk glistening like silver threads woven by a demon.
His stomach twisted.
"Oh, shit."
The Assassin Spider wasn't mocking him.
It was waiting for reinforcements.
He realized it too late.
The white Taratects immediately began weaving silk.
Thin, shimmering strands shot toward him. Before he could react, his wrists were bound. Then his legs. Then his chest.
The first layer tightened, sticking to his skin like liquid steel. Then another. Then another. It wasn't an instant capture—it was methodical. Each silk strand wrapped around him with an eerie patience, as if the spiders were savoring the act of trapping him.
"These bastards…!" " "Hey, Mr Black Spider! I was just kidding when I said I will get your head. You know I am a inferior fool, can you please let me go? Please?" The monster ofcourse didn't give a damn about his blabbering, nor did they understand what he was saying.
In a matter of seconds, his plan to get the head of the spider fell apart.
He was trapped.
The Taratects worked fast. The silk strands multiplied, layer upon layer, spinning him into a cocoon. Tighter. Denser. His arms were locked in place. His legs refused to budge.
Then—his vision blurred.
Silk threads covered part of his face. His breathing turned shallow.
He was being embalmed alive.
And then—they started dragging him.
The Assassin Spider took the lead, moving gracefully across the dungeon floor, while the three white Taratects carried him along like a prize.
A horrible realization hit him.
"They're taking me somewhere."
Somewhere deep inside the dungeon.
Somewhere he wasn't meant to come back from.
The dungeon air grew colder as they dragged him forward. The dim glow of the cave moss faded, swallowed by shadows.
And then—beneath the clicking of the spiders' legs—
He heard something else.
A slow, rhythmic breathing.
Something was waiting.
Something far worse than the Assassin Spider.
He gritted his teeth.
No.
He wasn't going to die like this.
Not as prey.
"I need a way out! And I need it NOW!"