Trouble

Licked by the torchlight, the webs rapidly curled and burned, releasing a pungent stench.

Holding the torch in her left hand, Rosie advanced while burning every web she encountered along the way.

She moved deliberately, waiting for each section of webbing to turn into blackened ash before taking another step forward.

Just as she incinerated the third large web, unexpected danger struck.

“Hisssss!”

A sharp hiss echoed from the darkness.

Rosie drew a dagger from the leather sheath at her waist with her right hand and flicked her wrist.

Whoosh—

The dagger left her grip, tracing a brief streak of silver through the torchlight before embedding itself into a dark shape above the wall.

It was a spider larger than a millstone.

It crouched in the shadows along the upper wall of the shaft, its eight long legs clinging tightly to the rough rock face. The white markings ringing its head looked like a hideous demon mask in the dim light.

The spider let out a sharp hiss, its eight legs scrambling frantically across the rock wall as it nearly lost its footing.

Rosie gave it no room to breathe; her second dagger flew right after the first.

Thwack.

The spider hissed again, the sound even higher and sharper than before.

Skittering sideways along the wall, it dragged a streak of dark fluid from its abdomen before vanishing beyond the edge of the torchlight.

“Dammit! My daggers…”

Rosie couldn't help but curse under her breath.

But before she could lament her lost weapons, more rustling sounds swarmed out from the darkness ahead and on both sides.

At the edge of the light, shadow after shadow emerged from the walls and the ceiling of the shaft.

They moved slowly just beyond the firelight, forming a loose arc around her.

“Hissss!”

Signal given by an unknown creature, several dark shapes lunged toward her simultaneously across the walls and the ground.

Rosie refrained from throwing another dagger.

Instead, she drew her sword from its sheath.

Stepping forward, she met the closest spider with a swift thrust.

Squelch.

The point pierced the center of the spider's head, the chitinous shell covering its cephalothorax giving way like thin wood against fine steel.

With a flick of her wrist, Rosie flipped the spider off the ground. It tumbled twice in the air before slamming hard into the side wall, bouncing off, and falling to the dirt, its eight legs twitching feebly.

Two nearby spiders pounced at the same time, moving surprisingly fast.

Rosie swept her torch in a wide horizontal arc with her left hand.

Sizzle!

Flames brushed against one spider's side, scorching several legs and half its body, filling the air with a burning stink.

Reeling like it had been struck by a branding iron, the creature recoiled violently.

The spider attacking from the right had already closed within two paces, its pincers agape, glinting faintly in the light.

Rosie didn't step back. Riding the momentum of her torch sweep, her right hand brought the sword down in a clean vertical chop.

The blade bit into the middle of the spider's head and sliced all the way down its centerline, splitting it neatly in two.

Green fluid and entrails splattered across the floor, leaving a large, slick stain.

Whoosh!

A sharp whistle cut through the darkness.

Pure instinct made Rosie raise her left arm, bringing her round shield up to cover herself.

Clang!

A metallic impact rang out against the face of the shield.

Glancing down, Rosie saw a finger-length, pitch-black barb embedded in the shield's iron lining.

It was a fanged projectile—a spider's fang.

Rosie traced the direction of the projectile and locked eyes with the spider she had just repelled with the torch.

Perched on a jutting rock along the tunnel wall, its pincers were slightly parted, clearly prepping a second shot.

Rosie pushed off the ground, covering several meters in a leap, and slashed outward horizontally with her sword.

The blade bit into the spider's white head markings, severing its entire cephalothorax at an angle.

The spider's eight legs snapped straight before going completely limp.

Planted her foot on the carcass, Rosie yanked her sword free from the gap, then kicked the dead spider toward the shadow creeping out from the dark.

With a heavy thud, the approaching spider took the dead companion full-on, tumbling off the rock face and flailing its eight legs as it tried to turn right side up.

Stepping up quickly, Rosie plunged her blade into its exposed underbelly, finishing it off for good.

Then, she took another step forward.

Crunch!

A spider the size of a dinner plate exploded beneath her boot.

Another step, squish, squish, squish~

Fluid splattered across the ground.

Rosie stomped over a dozen small spiders to death in one breath.

Only then did she flick the gooey liquid off her blade and scan her surroundings.

No new shadows lunged out at her.

The mine shaft fell quiet, save for the faint crackling of burning webs.

Is this too easy?

A trace of doubt rose in Rosie's mind.

Though these spiders were numerous, their actual combat strength wasn't impressive.

If cave spiders were only this dangerous, how could the guards have lost a man?

Holding her torch high, she continued down the shaft.

The webbing grew thicker and more dense. Wherever the torch went, the white silk curled and burned.

Occasionally, a few smaller spiders crawled out from cracks in the rock walls, only to be crushed underfoot or slashed to pieces.

When the torchlight illuminated a wider wall of rock, Rosie spotted a body.

A human corpse.

The body wore a set of worn leather armor, tattered in several places, revealing dried, blackened blood around the edges of the tears.

An iron sword and a gnawed wooden shield lay scattered beside it.

Judging by the attire, he was likely an adventurer, just like her.

Rosie stopped a few paces away. She held up the torch, carefully illuminating the surroundings to ensure no live spiders were lurking nearby before slowly approaching the body.

She squatted down. Rather than searching the corpse immediately, she used the torchlight to study its outline first.

He hadn't been dead for long. Based on the dryness of the skin and the layer of dust on his clothes, a few days at most, certainly less than a week.

But what caught her attention was the shape of the wound.

Moving the torch closer, she clearly saw the location of the fatal blow.

It had been thrust obliquely beneath his left shoulder blade, piercing through the rear layer and padding of the leather armor to run straight through his torso.

This didn't look like a spider attack; it resembled a wound left by a sharp weapon.

Rosie fell silent for a moment. Setting her sword on the ground beside her, she reached out to search the corpse.

She checked the pockets, the belt pouch, and the hidden lining inside the leather armor.

Yet aside from a handkerchief soaked and dried in blood, she found nothing.

“This guy doesn't even have a coin pouch?” Rosie couldn't help muttering under her breath.

For a legitimate adventurer to lack even a single copper coin meant his belongings had been looted—either before or after his death.

Pulling back her hand, she picked up her sword and stood up.

She gave the corpse one last look. Who had killed him?

Was it someone from this mine, or was there something far more dangerous than spiders lurking inside this cavern?

Holding her torch high, Rosie pressed forward.

Layer after layer of cobwebs burned to ash in the fire along her way.

The spiders weren't as dense as before, though she still ran into a scattered few. Whenever these cornered creatures rushed her, she dispatched them with a single blow.

Reaching the end of the passage, she finally spotted the giant spider carrying her two daggers.

It crouched on the ceiling of a relatively spacious chamber, eight legs clinging to the rough stone, the two daggers still lodged in its abdomen and flank.

Seeing Rosie appear, it let out a low hiss.

Rosie wedged her torch into a crevice in the wall, gripped her sword with both hands, and stepped into the chamber.

The fight was far from intense.

Having suffered injuries earlier, the spider's mobility had dropped significantly.

Rosie sidestepped its first two lunges with ease. By the third strike, she had caught its rhythm, darting inside its flank to sever two of its left legs with a quick cut.

The spider lost its balance and collapsed. Rosie followed up with a thrust right through the soft joint beneath its head, cutting off its hiss for good.

Pulling her blade free, she wiped it clean on the creature's corpse before bending down to retrieve her two daggers, wiping them as well before sheathing them.

Next, she pulled the torch from the crevice and walked toward the deepest corner of the chamber.

A cluster of off-white egg sacs sat there, their surfaces covered in fine patterns, trembling faintly.

A clutch of cave spider eggs.

Rosie leaned in, preparing to burn all the sacs to complete her contract.

Just then, she froze.

Footsteps echoed from behind.

They were the distinct, rhythmic thuds of human boots stepping on rock.

And it wasn't just one person—it was several.

Rosie turned around, angling her torch to cast light back down the tunnel.

Three figures walked out from the passage.

At the lead was Carl, captain of the mine guards.

Behind him walked Bill and Jack, flanking his left and right.

Carl glanced at the dead spider on the ground, then shifted his gaze to the clutch of eggs behind Rosie. He chuckled. “You actually pulled it off, huh? Impressive.”

Rosie kept her torch held high, the firelight casting a clear boundary between herself and Carl.

“Thanks for the compliment. Mr. Carl, what are you doing down here?”

Carl spread his hands, sounding nonchalant. “Just checking on you. If something happened to you, it'd be hard for me to report back to Sir Lawrence.”

“Is that so?” Rosie gave a faint smile of her own.

“Then thank you. I'm fine. The spiders are taken care of, and only this batch of eggs remains. Once I burn them, I'll head back up. You three can go up and wait for me first. It stinks down here—not good to linger.”

“That won't do, Miss Rosie,” Carl said.

“If you burn those spider eggs, I'm going to be in a real pickle.”

Rosie stared at Carl, the smile fading from her face bit by bit.

“I see. The guy back there—you killed him, didn't you?”

Carl didn't deny it, nor did he look surprised.

He answered matter-of-factly, “Yeah. But I miscalculated—I didn't expect these spiders wouldn't eat a corpse.”

“Why kill him?” Rosie asked.

“Because like you, he came somewhere he shouldn't have,” Carl replied.

Rosie smiled faintly. “This isn't a cave spider nest at all. You put the spider eggs here on purpose, didn't you?”

Carl didn't answer right away.

He looked down at the tips of his boots, as if organizing his thoughts.

When he looked back up, the smile had vanished from his face. “A smart person like you... why take up such a foolish line of work as an adventurer?”

“Because I like adventure,” Rosie said.

“Is that right? Well, I don't care for adventure. I placed those spider eggs because I like money.”

As he spoke, his hand gripped the hilt of his sword at his waist.

“Step away from there, and I might consider sparing your life.”

Behind him, Bill and Jack stepped forward together to the left and right, their hands resting on their hilts.

Rosie tossed the torch backward with her left hand. It landed squarely on the spider eggs, igniting them.

A burst of bright flames lit up the cavern instantly.

“Looks like you're in trouble, Mr. Carl.”