Meanwhile, deep in the heart of the cave, where sunlight had never reached and even sound seemed to die before bouncing back, a faint glow flickered across the walls of webbed stone.
This wasn't just a massive cave filled with spider monsters.
It was an entire nest.
The walls weren't made of rock alone anymore. They were layered in silk—thick, old, hardened strands packed over the years into curved shapes that had become part of the cavern itself.
Dust, bone, dried blood—all mixed together with the sheen of spider web to create a place that felt less like it was built and more like it had grown.
At the very center of the nest sat a throne.
It wasn't crafted.
It was roughly made by the monsters.
From the bones of beasts—some massive, some small. Many were mutated, shaped by magic and darkness over generations.
Some looked like they had shattered from the inside out, others bent unnaturally as if crushed mid-motion.
The throne wasn't meant for display.
