Everything hurt.

  Sam tried not to wince as he bent to adjust the strap on his greave, but failed in the attempt. At a glance, [Battle Healing] had done its job. His injuries had closed, and only the worst had left any lasting scars.

  Beneath the surface, however, he was far from recovered. While the toxin had primarily been a paralytic, it also contained a corrosive effect similar to his [Decay]. While none of the wounds had festered, they weren’t healing with the same inhuman speed he was accustomed to. To make matters worse, he was still struggling to stabilize his [Mana Network]. He could connect with it, but the entire thing felt jittery and unstable.

  The fight had unveiled a serious weakness in his build. For while he'd invested heavily in his durability, his skills had focused entirely on recovering from physical injury while negating magic. Other than his basic constitution enhancements, he didn't have much to deal with poison or anything to counter venom.

  It was a massive oversight, one he’d likely be paying for until the Ring Purge.

  He did his best not to let it show, but he knew Siel could tell how much he was hurting. She’d been hovering around him like a mother hen ever since he woke up from his coma.

  His strange dreams still lingered on the edge of consciousness, as if he'd never really come to at all. Everything had a slightly floaty quality, as if he were recovering from a bad flu. The chills and hot flashes didn't help; his body occasionally wracked with violent shaking.

  They were going to need to be more strategic in dealing with the remaining spinners. His headlong charge into their midst couldn't be repeated, and he'd need to be especially careful not to get bitten.

  Thankfully, the new plan didn't require him to get all that close.

  “Are you sure this is a good idea?” Siel asked, face strained.

  “Absolutely not, but I can't think of a better one that actually allows us to clear this Dungeon. This whole place may end up being a blessing in disguise. I can't think of another place where we could find this many Bronze Tier monsters.”

  The sylvan sighed, but Sam knew she secretly agreed. The relief when he'd awoken had been about more than just his recovery. For the first time in weeks, he caught a glimpse of the fire back in her eyes, unshrouded by the constant cloud of worry.

  He knew it was likely reflected in his own demeanour. While he still wasn't confident in their ability to secure enough Spira, he did have something that he didn't have before the Dungeon: hope.

  This place would either kill them or give them the means to advance. It was up to them to make it happen.

  “Alright,” he said, storing his weapons and grabbing the lip of the door. “Throw as soon as you have the space. Try to get it as far back as you can. If you can force them into us, all the better.”

  Siel nodded, muscles tense as she stood at the ready. Beside her, Molly snorted, clearly ready to get back into the action.

  Sam took a deep breath and pulled back on the door. Beside him, Mai casually yanked on the length of rope they had looped into a crude metal hook Sam had been able to drive into the door. The whole apparatus looked like an oversized cat toy, but it did the trick.

  The door slid open with the sound of grinding rock. Slowly, the opening expanded, and beyond, he could hear the familiar clicking of spiky appendages.

  “Now!” he yelled as the door opened just wide enough to squeeze through.

  Siel leapt forward and hurled one of the mid-sized oil pots out into the hallway. The moment the vessel left her hands, she summoned her bow and with it, a flaming arrow.

  She drew back the bow in one smooth motion, tracking the spinning pot as it vanished into the darkness. She released the arrow with a shimmering twang, and Sam watched as the projectile flew down the hallway like a blazing comet.

  As it passed, it briefly revealed the hundreds of shiny black limbs that clung to the floor and ceiling like some kind of invasive growth.

  The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  The arrow connected with the pot about fifty yards from the door, the sound not dissimilar to the soft tinkle of breaking china. It was a distinct contrast to the explosion that came immediately afterwards.

  The pot erupted into a ball of fire that instantly lit the dense webs that covered the hall. Sam was nearly blinded, but had the wherewithal to throw out his own pot. It shattered on the ground ten feet from the door, and he carefully lobbed a torch after it.

  The effect was similar to the arrow, if not slightly less dramatic.

  “What kind of oil is that, anyway?” Siel yelled over the roaring flames.

  “Hell if I know, but it sure as hell goes boom!” Sam allowed himself a rare smile as the flames spread, the burning oil melting through carapace as if it were made of butter. It seemed the spiders were particularly vulnerable to the element, and any sense of coordination they may have had dissolved as they scrambled to escape the blaze.

  The now familiar human-like cries of the spinners washed over him as he put his shoulder against the stone and pushed. The nearest monsters had already tried to claw their way inside, but had been swiftly rebuffed by Molly’s hooves and Siel’s thorny vines.

  He got the door into a solid position before taking over from Molly, utilizing the superior reach of his spear. He was able to maintain a comfortable distance while plunging the black metal into the gap over and over.

  The door shifted slightly as some of the larger spinners added their weight to the pile, but Mai was on standby if they needed to close it quickly. The sphinx maintained her usual air of aloofness, but Sam thought he could sense a flicker of enjoyment beneath her cold exterior.

  The spinners' cries turned to screams of panic as the fire consumed them, and it wasn't long before the sound was joined by a series of welcome Dings!

  Smoke poured into the small chamber, but was thankfully sucked up into the chimney. The air remained surprisingly clear despite the gruesome barbecue happening in the hallway. The smell was somewhere between a gas leak and a fish market in the middle of summer. Sam had to try not to gag as he caught the occasional whiff.

  After about twenty minutes, the last of the spinners were dispatched, and the group was finally able to catch their breath. It took another fifteen minutes for the flames to completely extinguish themselves, and Sam was surprised to see they’d actually melted the rock in some places.

  Not long after the hallway went dark, the familiar sounds returned. The chittering and scuttling once again overtook the hallway, accompanied by the faint hiss of silken threads being spun.

  “Well, that didn’t take long,” Sam said, peering out through the gap.

  “Maybe they think it’s an attack we can only do once,” Siel offered, taking a sip of water from her skin.

  “Most likely. It seems like they never gained access to this room, so I doubt they know how many of those pots we have.”

  “Shall we inform them that we still have a few more?” Siel said with a smirk.

  “Yes. Let’s.”

  In the end, it took them three separate salvos to completely clear the corridor. The smallest spinners barely granted any spira, despite being categorized as bronze. They made up for it in sheer numbers, and Sam was distinctly pleased by their progress.

  [Spira: 102,985]

  Their fight with the Hill Ogres had netted them nearly twenty thousand, but they were still far from collecting the toll. They just had to hope the Dungeon could keep throwing spiders into their impromptu meat grinder.

  “How many more of these pots do we have left?” Siel asked as she collapsed to the ground by the hearth.

  “Almost a hundred. We can keep this up for a hot minute.”

  “It certainly is hot,” Siel chuckled, loosening her armour at the neck. Her brow glistened with sweat, but she maintained her upbeat attitude.

  “They're slowing down. I think they realize what we're doing. They're not bothering to respin the webs because they figured out it only gives us an advantage.”

  “That would suggest a higher intelligence behind their actions. Whoever the ‘Arachne’ is, they must still be here and guiding their Familiars."

  “Wait, do you not have myths about her on your world?” Sam asked, surprised.

  “No, she is unfamiliar to me. These creatures, as well. We have similar native beasts, but nothing quite so…unsettling.”

  “Yeah, I was big-time afraid of spiders when I was a kid. They always used to get into the house when it got cold outside. My mother would make me kill them; she was even more scared than I was.”

  “Well, if they're anything like these ones, I do not blame her,” Siel said.

  “Much, much smaller, thankfully. And I can't remember much about the stories other than that a woman pissed off the gods and got transformed into a spider. I imagine she was some kind of seamstress. Hence the spinners.”

  “That does sound like something the gods would partake in,” Siel muttered. “Putting us in our place seems to be their favourite pastime.”

  “Now you're starting to sound like me,” Sam said with a grin.

  “It's hard not to when you encounter places like this. I cannot imagine a reason for this Dungeon other than as a punishment. I understand challenges for the War, but this…this is something else.”

  Sam grunted in agreement and took his place by the door. “You ready to go again?” he asked.

  “I am,” Siel said with a nod, getting to her feet. “Let's wait a moment before we throw this time. I want to draw them in more.”

  Sam nodded, gritting his teeth as he began the arduous task of pulling back the door. In the distance, the familiar sounds of spiders reached him, and he couldn't help but grin. Every one represented more spira being added to their coffers.

  Every one was another spark of hope.