Patrick.

  Whiskers turned to Patrick with wide and wild eyes while Ellinore just gaped at her brother as he wobbled back and forth in the air like a drunken ghost.

  The nky youth met the old scout's gaze as though seeming to plead for some miracle answer to what was going on.

  "Giant fucking spider!" Patrick seethed, reiterating his earlier warning as he felt a bead of sweat drip from his forehead. "Nobody fucking move unless you want to be dangling from the sky as well!"

  "What do you mean a giant spider!" Arthur screamed, his wild tantrum only seeming to become more violent.

  "Oh, by all means, keep shaking its web! Maybe it's managed to miss the fact that it's got a two-hundred-pound imbecile screaming at it below its nest!"

  That seemed to catch the boy's attention, his insensate struggles slowing to near inexistence as his body gradually bled off his momentum, head craning upwards and between his legs as if he could see something Patrick couldn't…

  "How do we get him down?"

  "Fire?" The rogue offered, though it was hardly a real solution. "Then, all he'll have to worry about is the ten-foot fall while upside-down and wearing armor. Maybe he'll avoid a spinal injury; more likely, he'll break his neck on impact."

  "This is your fault, William!" The noble accused, gring at him as though he had somehow caused this, "Your top responsibility should be relieving me of my current circumstances!"

  But, as though unable to avoid tempting fate, his final words were accented by a red-faced spasm of rage that shook him as before, Patrick wanting nothing more than to sp the idiot before all of them watched something new transpire.

  A slight upwards jerk...

  The motion appearing as though a phantasmal puppeteer were plucking at his strings, and it lurched the young noble ever higher by a solid five feet…

  "No! No-no-no!" Arthur shouted, now terrified as he stared into the yawning abyss, his words arriving with the cadence of some sort of childish order unto servants that he expected to be obeyed… When he was dragged by yet another heaving bounce, he screamed like a little boy whose ankle was just grabbed while lying in bed!

  "No! Please, no!" He whimpered, his breaths ragged as all below him stared with transfixed eyes… "A—a hundred gold pieces to the one who manages to, no, what are you doing? No, don't, I—fucking god—fu-fuuuuuuuuu…"

  The boy's trailing words as he was abruptly lifted at mesmerizing speeds plunged into a horrific crescendo that resounded through the chamber as his form quickly vanished from sight, silence returning to the arena once his screams faded to echo…

  "Nobody fucking move…" Pattrick whispered, his jaw clenching as he took a deep and meditative breath, both his remaining charges looking at him as though the desotion itself had just dumped a dragon on their doorsteps…

  "But what do we do?" Whiskers whispered back, freezing in pce without so much as allowing his chest to expand.

  "Listen better in your next fucking life?"

  "Really? That's all you have to say?" Ellinore hissed, gring at him with open contempt. "My brother disappears without you lifting a finger, and you dare—"

  "Piss off, girlie, I was the only one who even made an attempt at helping, and I did!" Patrick defended, done with his ruse and his cordial attitude, "I bought that pig-sticker precious, valuable moments in which he spent screaming' and filing! Be lucky it wasn't you, and let me fucking think!"

  "This was your idea!" The girl pressed, her tone beginning to crackle under the pressure! "You said we'd be heroes! Said there was a girl in trouble! You did this! Arthur was right! You did this!"

  "Ellie!" Whiskers tried, reaching out to try and calm the girl who snarled at her friend, pushing him away and causing both to stumble backward. Though while she simply fell onto her rear, Whiskers found himself suddenly—restrained…

  "Fuck... Fuck, fuck, fuck! Ellie, you stupid—"

  Stop struggling!" Patrick roared, causing both the two teenagers to pause in their hissing fit. "Not unless you want it to realize you're caught… Stay calm, stay silent, and tell me where it feels like you're stuck!"

  Taking in a deep breath, the boy shuddered but, otherwise, kept himself still, seeming to start—wiggling with tiny movements as his jaw cttered like a ughing skeleton…

  "I-its across my back left shoulder to right leg!"

  Without a word, Patrick's daggers zipped through the air, the whistle of their song piercing his ears as twin gleaming arcs met significant resistance.

  Still, it was enough to cause the boy to fall, the gossamer strands separating with a ripping and tensioned tear, springing from each other in a moment of visibility before settling and once more dissipating from sight.

  Despite his noble bearing, the young man scrambled on hands and knees to close the distance between himself and his savior, bouncing to a crouching posture once he was within arms reach and immediately drawing his bow.

  "Alright, kid-o's…" Patrick began, exhaling through his teeth as he fought to get a handle on his racing heart, "The pn is simple; we fucking burn it all..."

  "Agreed!"

  "Not agreed!" Ellinore snipped, still on her rear but too terrified to move, "We'll burn Arthur alive! O-or, send him falling to his death!"

  "You think he's still alive?" Whiskers ughed, looking at the girl with an exasperated expression.

  "No, we need to try to save him!"

  "Nay, we really don't ss…"

  "And you!" She growled hatefully, staring at Patrick, "When I tell me father about this, I will see to it you are hung for your actions!"

  "At which next opportunity?"

  "I—when we escape, of course!"

  "Where you will then try to have me strung up by a rope?" Patrick asked, tone sardonic while the girl seemed to, after a moment, understand his implication…

  "You wouldn't dare!"

  "Oh, I'm sure you'd be rather surprised at exactly what I'd dare to do if it meant staying alive, girl. If slitting your fucking throat makes that easier, then good luck to ya…"

  Ellinore’s face drained of all its color as her gaze drifted towards the knives the rogue was holding…

  "Sir William, I will personally ensure that no reprisals as to your imagined inaction or words take pce, on my honor! Please, I would much rather we live through this than squabble! Oh, and Ellie, if you would stop antagonizing the best chance we have to survive, that would be great."

  The girl's look could have frozen kes for all her frosty chill, but she nevertheless kept her mouth closed while her friend took in a long breath.

  "Okay, so we burn whatever webs are around us… then what?"

  "Well, it's actually less simple than that…" Patrick admitted solemnly, "Spider silk doesn't actually ignite like you think it will; it more—melts… What it means is that the three of us will need to take our torches and wave them around in an expeditious but cautious manner as we can manage!

  Remember, this is a dungeon boss, not some animal. Eventually, something is going to decide enough time has passed, and climb down here. When it does, I'd much rather have a clear space to fight it than risk getting myself stuck when the brawl starts..."

  "That's the pn?" Whiskers asked, not seeming to love it but wanting confirmation all the same.

  "Lad, the moment you come up with something better, you best share it."

  Whiskers hesitated for several long moments before returning his bow to his back and, instead, retrieved the torch he'd smothered and frantically looked around for a pce to light it.

  Sadly, the sconces in the room were scarce as the lighting was magical, but with a spark from his finger, Patrick lit his own and brandished it toward the archer.

  A roar of fmes erupted in the echoing chamber as the boy quickly began waving the flickering light in slow, deliberate arcs, making sure to clear everything in his immediate area before even considering taking a step in any direction.

  "I'll take the left!" He whispered, sparing a short gnce for the unmoving Ellinore before nodding at Patrick, who accepted the pn without compint.

  "Girl, get up and fucking make yourself useful, or I swear, by all the gods, dead and new, you'll regret sitting on your ass when the time comes!"

  Ellinore just looked at Patrick, not saying a word through her hateful gre, unmoving as she was obstinate in his command.

  "Just ignore her; she's as bad as her brother when the mood strikes!"

  "And you're a filthy cur, Victor Delmonte! A spineless weasel that can forget about our promise to each other!"

  "Not worth it…" Victor whispered, his words causing Patrick to chuckle in his throat.

  Despite himself, he was actually starting to like the noble brat… not because he reminded him of himself, but because he possessed that same grit and sense of survival that all men desired to stand in a shield wall with.

  Nothing was better than fighting for your life with a brother in arms who knew what was most important.

  Living to see another morning.

  Patrick worked with methodical ease, moving at nearly double the pace of the younger man who'd made it a third of the way around the stadium before meeting with Patrick along the way.

  Then, they began clearing the center, burning away webs that had filled the arena like drops of rain, every wave of the torch searing away dozens of near-invisible strands that curled and smoldered as they worked.

  "Don't be afraid to double-check your work, d! These strands are like steel; you get caught in what comes next, and you're a dead man!"

  "Is it perhaps stupid to ask why it hasn't come out yet?" The boy called back, his terrible testing of fate causing Patrick to wince, even though that very same question had been bothering him as well…

  "Maybe it's too busy feeding?" He offered, hearing a small sob from the red-headed girl who still refused to budge. "Or maybe it's waiting for us to finish clearing its webs. Dungeons are weird like that... A lot of them have this sense of—theatrics for the sake of drama and stagecraft... Just be ready for anything! And above all else, don't panic."

  "Ohhh! But where would the fun be in that?"

  Patrick's head jolted upright, his gaze fixating upon a creature that glided down a thick pilr as its legs silently skittered across the stone, it's passing so soft that scarcely a whisper was made in its steady approach…

  He felt his jaw scken, not just from the buttery and cultured amusement of the creature's sickly sweet voice, but for the visage that rode upon an armored leviathan that drifted down the stone like a boat did the waves…

  The woman's pale flesh was pure as white lilies, glittering hair shining like polished silver, her radiant beauty as unspeakable in its fwless seduction as it was monstrous, attached at the waist to a titanous arachnid without a face nor mouth.

  The creature righted itself as it casually descended onto the sands, the naked woman riding the enormous nightmare smiling at each one of them in turn, as though curious why they were even there while intruding upon her sleepy evening…

  From across the room, Patrick heard the noble boy swallow a lump in his throat, the massive spider dwarfing them both in both height and width! It was terrible as it was spellbinding to behold…

  "What?" The monster purred, her gcial gaze arresting Patrick as she turned to him, every hair on his body standing on end as it licked its pouting lips, "Not what you expected?"

  "Nay, no, it is not." The rogue admitted, huffing with a ugh as he tried to understand what he was looking at.

  The woman was gorgeous! It simply didn't need to be remarked upon further… She was, without a doubt, unequal in this regard. However, Patrick had seen how 'pretty things' could be rotten as maggot-ridden apples on the inside, especially where it so often counted, the only difference, he mused, being that this one didn't bother hiding her fangs.

  It didn't take long for him to realize he was looking at a livin', breathing honey-trap...

  And, his mind found it easy to imagine such a creature calling out in the woods, hiding her true self in the pitch of darkness while she enchanted those who saw her approach…

  It was—brutally ruthless…

  And from one killer to another, appreciatively efficient and dastardly, all at the same time...

  "Be you of the intelligent sort of dungeon monster then?" He asked a handful of seconds ter, watching as the creature tilted his head at him, then narrowed her eyes as though reading a book with words that were all jumbled in the wrong order… "Fuck… She's got abilities!" He called once realizing what had just happened, the creature's gaze actually widening to shock and slight apprehension with his concern.

  "You're—different than your status suggests, aren't you? Are you a hunter that's come to put me down?"

  "Nope!" Patrick replied with a wide grin and a shallow bow, "And if your dyship would be so kind to me, I would gdly leave your home and nary return! On me, honor!"

  She sighed, her breath flowing between her teeth as she shook her head in dismay… "We both know that would never be the case… You humans are too greedy for your own good…"

  While they'd been talking, Whiskers had returned his bow to his grip, silently knocking an arrow and shifting to partially shroud himself behind a pilr.

  By contrast, Ellinora just stared at the behemoth that now stood over her with its hulking form and bded legs, each the width of her entire torso, sitting perilously close to her silent and weeping body as she shivered and shook, whimpering while a single hand pressed tightly against her mouth.

  There was a pause, an uncertain beat that was shared by each of them in turn. All present, allowing the creature's pronouncement to settle in the air like a thick haze as the room teetered upon violence...

  Patrick's hand twitched as his dagger exploded towards the creature's head without so much as a further word, his torch falling to the ground as his now free hand unched his other bde before it had even touched the sands, his body already moving to distance himself!

  The sudden burst of movement was followed by a vibrating twang that hummed as Victor loosed his arrow. Strangely, Patrick might have sworn the spider actually tracked his knives as her eyes flickered toward them.

  Then, to his utter dismay, her cwed finger swept the bdes aside, causing them to tumble in careening disarray, even as the telltale thump of an arrow striking meat swiftly followed.

  The creature seemed—nonplussed as it peeked over its shoulder to see an ineffectual shaft bounce lightly off its rear, the thick bck mass seeming to jiggle slightly, absorbing the impact without visible harm.

  "My arrow bounced off!" The noble cried, quickly darting away from sight.

  The monster merely rolled its piercing eyes and turned away without seeming to care she'd just been shot at.

  Patrick's mind raced as his wrists flicked from side to side, his ability shortening then redirecting the chains connected to his fingers as his bdes came spinning around to converge on the creature's neck from two directions.

  Again, it just batted them away when they came close enough to do so, his eyes widening with open concern as the behemoth began darting his way!

  This wasn't good!

  Ignoring how bloody quick it was, the monster was clearly both highly intelligent and at the apex of its power! Level twenty-two or otherwise, one did not so easily discount the raw might of monsters lest they find themselves as an unwilling snack!

  Abandoning his hopes for a clean and easy kill, Patrick reached into his cloak and threw three vials at the creature's face, pulling up his scarf while sprinting away, doing his best to keep a pilr between the creature and himself.

  Frustratingly, the spider did not swat these away as she had the others; instead, leaping as though on a springboard and hurling herself sideways with a beguiling speed that beggared belief!

  Had he not seen the massive creature move itself as quickly as it had, Patrick might never have believed such a thing to be possible, and yet, its powerful legs had exploded a divot in the sand where the monster had previously been, his vials clinking uselessly against the arena floor that was infuriatingly poor terrain for him.

  His knives shot out again, this time joined by four others he quickly threw in rapid succession, adding two of them to his magic chains and stretching his limited magical regeneration dangerously thin.

  More daggers were sent flying in all directions, all save one that managed to clink off an armored leg, skating across its surface as it spun away without doing a bloody damn thing!

  "I surrender!" He called out, not bothering to worry over why the damned monster seemed equally as tough as it was fast and instead abandoning what clearly wasn't working.

  Patrick was not actually a rogue.

  No, perhaps upon a time in his youth, but now, his one and only maxed-out css was, in fact, 'the assassin.'

  High killing potential, immense pressure in short bursts, agile and lethal.

  What he was not was situated to win a drawn-out battle against a heavily armored and durable opponent.

  In a head-on fight, he could hold his own against his targets. Overwhelming them with tricks, cheap shots, and alchemical solutions.

  Yet, he knew when it was time to strike and when the winds of his fortune were failing, and thus far, nothing he had seemed viable to deal with this threat. And for those in his profession, retreat was merely one more weapon in his arsenal to be relied on.

  Bronze-tier monster, be damned! This thing was a blighted granite wall! One with a faster top end than a galloping horse and the accursed grace of a dancer.

  "You let me go!" Patrick continued, "And I dump all my magical artifacts from my bag of holding! It's enchanted; you'll not be getting a thing from it unless I be the one opening it!"

  The monster—paused in its whispering glide, Patrick practically able to feel its bulk not a dozen steps away, which, given its speed, was far closer than he really felt comfortable with.

  "You have a real bag of holding?"

  "Aye, ss! All yours; I'll break the binding myself on my merry way out!"

  "If you want to have a conversation, you should at least do so while face to face, no?"

  "Forgive me if I'm—skeptical." He began, grinning from ear to ear as his body dealt with fear in the only way it ever had… "But, appealing to your sense of honor seems less likely to succeed than your greed!"

  "I do like treasure…" The woman sighed, "But I like people remaining ignorant of me more."

  "A magic contract, then!" He offered, mind racing to find a way out of this, "I have a bnk one with me just in case of emergencies! I'll not betray your secrets, even at the end of a bde!"

  "I would—also request such treatment! So long as we're all trying to make deals with each other!" The noble boy called, hiding on the opposite side of the room and doing fuck all to help anything!

  What the brat could exactly do, Patrick had no idea, but anything would be appreciated given present company…

  "I'm not going to start letting all of you go..." The spider chuckled, amused as much as she was careless.

  Patrick tugged as he felt daggers pull from where they'd embedded themselves, the assassin activating his trump card as magic coated the edge of each bde, and they sawed through the creature's scoffing face as it made to contemptuously flick them away like errant mosquitos!

  The arrogant bitch's smugly scoffing expression fell in two equal parts to thud against the sand, her body squirting a geyser of blood while Patrick swayed on his feet…

  He dug in his belt for mana potion and chugged it as he staggered around the pilr with bloodshot eyes… That hadn't been pleasant, and he'd never used the ability with so many bdes before, nor while they were attached to his chains… Yet, he had done it!

  "You see that d?" He called, his grin widening as the sand was soaked with the creature's foul blood, "That's why you never let an enemy distract you—"

  Patric's voice cut off to a momentary burble as his vision spun. Round and round and round and round until the world blurred, and the lights in his gaze winked out of existence.