"How long is this damn thing going to take to roast?" Ren grumbled, pressing a hand to his growling stomach. His eyes stayed fixed on the rabbit monster skewered over the fire—a beast as large as a goat, its fur long singed away, flesh glistening with juices as it turned slowly above the flames.
They had tied it to a thick wooden spit, rigged just high enough to avoid direct contact with the fire, letting the heat do its work. Around the glowing pit, the five of them—Daniel, Justin, Vanessa, Ren, and Rex—sat in a rough circle, their faces lit by flickers of orange.
Justin glanced over at Daniel, a smirk curling on his lips. "So, let me guess. While we were risking our lives fighting goblins, you were here playing camp chef?"
Daniel didn't miss a beat. He gave a half-smile, voice dry. "You mean... committing genocide?"
Justin scoffed, leaning forward. "What, are you siding with those monsters now?"
Daniel just shrugged. "Didn't say anything."
Justin clicked his tongue, clearly irritated. "Honestly, with the amount you helped, I don't even feel like giving you any of the cores."
Daniel arched an eyebrow and casually replied, "Maybe you need a little reminder—I helped take down the boss, and I was the one who found that village."
Justin stared at him for a moment, then huffed and tossed a few glowing cores into Daniel's lap. "Yeah, yeah. That's why you're getting a few."
Daniel caught them without looking down and smirked. "Generous."
The crackling of the fire filled the silence for a while, the scent of roasting meat making everyone's stomachs ache. Above them, the sky had turned a deep indigo, stars beginning to blink through the canopy of trees.
It wasn't just a campfire—they were all warriors resting before another storm. And none of them trusted the calm.
Daniel's eyes shifted to Vanessa, his expression almost expectant. But she crossed her arms, lifting an eyebrow with a sly smirk.
"I'm not giving you anything," she said flatly.
He sighed and turned toward Ren and Rex—who, the moment they realized his attention was on them, fumbled awkwardly with their bags, clearly trying to hide their core stash like guilty children hiding candy.
Daniel narrowed his eyes. "Wow. What kind of friends are you two, huh?"
Ren, not even bothering to deny it, grinned. "If you agree to pay all our tavern bills for the next month, we might—might—share half our crystals with you."
Daniel stared at them both like they'd just offered him a poisoned apple. "Keep your stupid crystals," he snapped. "Tomorrow, I'll collect enough on my own to climb straight to the top."
Justin burst out laughing, his voice echoing in the quiet woods. "By what, befriending more goblins?"
His joke cracked everyone up. Even Rex, who'd been silently chewing a piece of dry meat, let out a muffled snort.
Daniel rolled his eyes as the laughter washed over him. But he didn't say anything more. He just leaned back, arms folded behind his head, eyes on the stars.
Eventually, the flames dimmed. After some more harmless banter, grumbling, and mild shoving over who would take the first watch (no one volunteered), they sealed the mouth of the cave with a few flat stones and broken branches. One by one, the team settled in for the night, their silhouettes curled up around the soft dying glow of the fire.
The forest beyond remained quiet. But in the shadows, something else had begun to stir.
---
By the time Daniel opened his eyes, the sun was already past its peak. The warm golden light streamed faintly through the cave mouth, making the shadows dance like lazy spirits on the wall.
Outside, the camp was already half-empty.
"Looks like everyone's off for the hunt," Daniel muttered as he stretched and stood up. With a casual yawn and a swipe at the dust on his clothes, he picked up his gear and headed out—alone.
Though they had all been sent here as a team, Daniel knew the cold truth: points were awarded individually. It didn't matter if you saved the group or brought down the biggest monster—what counted was your score. And Daniel was dangerously low on that.
"If I don't want to be expelled from the Academy, I need to start taking real risks," he muttered to himself as he plunged deeper into the forest.
The trees here were older, thicker. Vines draped like sleeping serpents from above, and even the birdsong seemed distant—muted by the density of the jungle. The light barely filtered through the tangled canopy overhead, giving everything a dim green glow.
Daniel pressed on.
"The deeper I go, the stronger the monsters," he reasoned. "Which means more points… more XP. If I can just take down one elite monster…"
He didn't get to finish that thought.
Something caught his eye—an odd shimmer between two trees. He slowed down. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up. As he looked around, he suddenly noticed something that made his blood run cold.
Spiderwebs.
Everywhere.
Thick, silvery, unnatural webs covered the trees, the bushes, even the ground. They weren't just cobwebs—these were the kind spun by creatures large enough to make a meal out of something his size.
He took a cautious step back, instincts screaming at him to run.
Too late.
His vision suddenly spun—the world flipped upside down.
By the time he realized what had happened, his body was no longer under his control. His arms and legs were bound in a sticky, nearly invisible thread. The web had coiled tightly around his body from his toes all the way up to his shoulders. Only his head remained free—barely.
He was hanging upside down, swaying gently from a thick strand like a piece of meat left out to dry.
And then he saw it.
A spider.
No, not a spider.
A monster.
Eight gleaming black eyes stared into his soul as a massive, night-black arachnid crawled forward from the shadows, its legs moving with eerie silence. Its size dwarfed Daniel entirely—easily the size of a small car, each step it took making a soft squelch on the webbed forest floor.
It stopped just a few inches from his face. Its jaws clicked hungrily.
Daniel's heart pounded in his chest. He couldn't move. Couldn't scream. Could only stare back.
And in that breathless, cursed moment, one thought echoed in his mind louder than all the rest:
"Why is my luck always this bad?"
Daniel struggled for what felt like an eternity, twisting and writhing inside the suffocating cocoon of webbing. His muscles ached, sweat ran down his forehead, and his breath came in short, frustrated gasps.
"Damn it… this thing's stronger than it looks!" he growled through clenched teeth, trying to flex his wrists, shift his weight, anything to loosen the threads.
But the web was too tight. Too refined.
Too… deliberate.
A hunter's trap, not a clumsy net.
His mind raced. There was only one way out now.
Closing his eyes for a brief moment, Daniel focused inward—pulling at the flickering heat inside his chest. It was faint, stubborn, like a dying ember.
"Come on… just a spark," he whispered.
Suddenly, flames licked his fingertips. His palms ignited with a soft hiss, and in an instant, the heat spread to the threads binding him. The web sizzled—burning, shrinking, and then—
Vaporized.
With a final snap, the last of the threads released, and Daniel fell hard to the ground, landing on one knee. His breath was ragged, and the fire in his palms died out with a wisp of smoke.
Above him, the monster shrieked.
The Queen Silk Spider had noticed.
It reared back, its spindly legs clicking against the trees as it prepared to fire another web. Silvery threads shot toward him like guided arrows.
But Daniel moved first.
Pushing off with all his strength, he hopped sideways, rolling over the mossy forest floor and dodging the attack by mere inches. The web struck a tree behind him and wrapped around it instantly, tightening with terrifying speed. Had it hit him, he would've been back in the cocoon—or worse.
As he sprang to his feet, Daniel's eyes caught a glint in the sky.
A drone.
Hovering silently overhead. Recording. Observing.
"Of course," he thought bitterly. "They're watching us. Every moment. Every mistake."
His jaw clenched. "That drone… I'll have to do something about it later. But first—"
His gaze snapped back to the spider, who had now begun to circle him, sensing his weakened state. Its eight cold eyes were locked onto him with focused hunger.
Daniel inhaled sharply, steadying his pulse. Then he muttered under his breath, voice laced with dry humor and resignation:
"And of course, just my luck… I stumble straight into the lair of the Queen Silk Spider. The jungle's deadliest elite. The one Vanessa was supposed to fight."
He scoffed. "Figures."
The Queen Silk Spider hissed, its shadow looming over him.
Daniel raised his fists, the fire flickering back to life.
"Well then, Your Majesty… let's dance."