The Arachne Queen's Nest

"Silphy, we're running."

The words were out of my mouth the instant the crimson Arachne Queen revealed itself.

"Wh-what?!"

"That's ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠no ordinary Arachne Queen. It's a Variant."

"B-but..."

Silphy hesitated, her face a picture of panic.

I fully intended to leave Nigel behind and run. The information Narration fed me was always accurate—except when it was trying to get me killed. That blood-red Arachne Queen was no ordinary specimen.

Nigel's panic made that obvious enough. He already knew what a regular Arachne Queen looked like, and yet there he was, sword drawn, glancing wildly around as he backpedaled—the unmistakable look of a man who'd just come face-to-face with something he'd never seen before.

We could have tried fighting it together, of course. But going into a fight without knowing the enemy's strength was too much of a gamble. Running with Silphy was the best option I had.

And Nigel?

...He could work off some of that karma of his.

The Arachne Queen, however, was not the sort of creature that simply let prey wander out of its nest. The moment I turned to flee with Silphy, the webs filling the cavern surged to life, racing across the passage we'd come through and sealing it shut in a heartbeat.

"It's blocking our escape... like this?!"

I drew my sword at once and brought it down hard, trying to cut a way through. The blade didn't even bite. It bounced off the packed silk as if I'd struck a wall of iron. I tried again, and again—not so much as a scratch.

"Just how tough is this stuff...?"

With the way out sealed, I had no choice but to turn back toward Nigel. He was already locked in combat with the Arachne Queen.

Shhk!

But the sword of a Silver Rank adventurer fared no better than mine. The silk the Variant Queen was spinning had a tensile strength that defied all reason. Against an Arachne whose entire arsenal was webbing, having no way to cut that webbing was a death sentence.

"Damn it! What the hell is this monster?!"

Nigel twisted and slashed, barely slipping past the strands whipping in from every direction. Then one of them snared his ankle, and he was yanked straight up to the ceiling, dangling upside down.

"AAAAAGH! What are you doing?! You two! Help me!"

While Nigel screamed himself hoarse, I watched the Queen's attacks with care. I'd already tried channeling mana into my blade and striking, and it hadn't been enough to cut the silk. But the pattern of the webs told a different story: the creature was concentrating its assault on a single target at a time. The entire time Nigel had been under that barrage, not a single strand had come flying at Silphy or me.

"Silphy, I need a favor."

"Whaaaat?!"

"Can you go forward and draw its attention as much as you can?"

She was flexible and fast. If anyone could buy time by dodging alone, without ever needing to cut a web, it was her. The speed of the incoming silk wasn't much different from the ordinary Arachne we'd already faced.

"Waaaaagh—! Aaaaagh—!"

Meanwhile, the webs around the upside-down Nigel were winding tighter and tighter. The Queen was cocooning him—storing its catch for later. It was a pitiful sight, but as long as the creature was busy wrapping him up, nothing was coming our way.

"W-will that be all right?"

"Don't try to cut the webs. Just focus on dodging. Once you think you've got its eyes on you, I'll figure something out."

"Ugh... A-all right!"

Silphy nodded, her face tight with nerves, and sprinted toward the Queen and the dangling Nigel.

All right. Now what...?

Shhk—! Shhk—!

The instant Silphy burst forward and closed the distance, webs began flying at her. At the same time, the silk that had been winding around Nigel froze in place. That settled it. The thing could only shoot webbing at one target at a time. It could switch in an instant—the way it had sealed our escape and then gone back to attacking Nigel—but it wouldn't come at several people at once.

"Hey! Don't just stand there—get over here and cut me down first!"

Nigel shouted down at me from the ceiling, trussed up tight in silk. He was thrashing, but his arms and legs wouldn't move, so the half-finished cocoon just swayed there like a pendulum.

Easy for him to say. I still had no way to cut the webs. And even if I did get him down, he wouldn't be much help. I set him aside and turned my mind to the real problem: how to close the distance and land a hit on the Queen.

Silphy, for her part, was drawing the creature's gaze with something close to a circus act, twisting away from silk that came at her from every angle. I'd thought her movement looked unusual earlier. My eyes hadn't been wrong. But if this dragged on too long, she was going to get caught.

This would be a great time for Narration to drop a hint about a weak point. Of course it never shows up when I actually need it.

Could I close in and attack while Silphy held its attention? No. That wouldn't work. The Queen prioritized whatever was approaching it. Silphy had become the target because, compared to a Nigel who'd already been neutralized, a girl coming in close registered as the greater threat. Which meant that no matter how many acrobatics Silphy pulled off to buy me time, the second I charged, those webs would come flying at me.

So the surest path was still finding a way to cut the damn silk. There had to be something. If I could just slice through those webs...

Then a scene surfaced in my mind. After I'd held Daina Village against the undead, a rumor had made the rounds among the villagers.

I'd never done any of that, of course. The story had warped and swollen as it spread. But thinking about it now—was it really so impossible?

The potential of mana was endless. Concentrate it at the tip of a blade, or flood the entire weapon and release it, and you got entirely different techniques. Mireia had even fine-tuned the mana running through her sword to delay the actual moment of the cut—a feat that still felt like a miracle. It seemed like only yesterday that Narration had torn into me for possessing what it called catastrophic ingenuity. And yet I still hadn't properly applied the control I already had.

No matter how close to physically invulnerable that silk was, webbing was still webbing. If I could wrap my blade in fire and burn through it, even the Arachne Queen's ironclad threads might give way.

I'd just have to try.

This was another world, after all.

"Kyaaaaah—!"

Silphy's scream cut through the cavern. She'd been ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠buying time like a gymnast, slipping past silk sprayed from every direction—but human concentration frays with every passing second. Adventurers could use Mana Conversion to build stamina that barely tired, but the moment focus slipped, something always got through.

A strand whipped around one of her ankles. Her body lifted off the ground, rising toward the ceiling. Same as Nigel: hang her upside down, then come for me.

"Please..."

I drew a slow breath, gathered myself, and began ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠feeding mana into the sword with painstaking care. Simply pouring it in and shifting where it pooled wouldn't be enough this time. What did I need to make flame erupt from the blade?

Mana control had always demanded intense focus and imagination—feeling the ambient mana as a physical presence, holding the shape you wanted in your mind, and never letting that concentration break. What I wanted now was for the mana coating my sword to ignite. I pictured it burning hot. A fierce, roaring blaze, hungry enough to consume anything. Then I imagined that scorching mana releasing through the surface of the blade.

Unlike Sword Aura, the discharged mana wouldn't fly free. It would cling to the steel, staying close.

No. Still not enough. I needed it sharper. More precise.

The mana flowing through the sword would catch the fire as it tried to leave the surface. Some of it would become flame. Some of it would remain in the blade. Two kinds of mana, opposite in nature, pulling toward each other—holding the burning force in place so it couldn't scatter into the air.

More specific. More vivid.

That was when it happened. Fierce flame erupted from the sword in my hand, clinging to the edge as if the steel had been painted in oil, burning without scattering.

I swung at once, sending a fire-wreathed slash into the webs that had sealed our escape. The mass of silk that had been impossible to cut parted as if it were paper. Where the blade passed, mana-laden fire caught and melted the surrounding threads as well.

For a second I worried ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the whole nest would go up—a cavern stuffed with webbing turning into a sea of flame—but it didn't. The fire's source was my own mana. I could will it not to spread too far.

"Wh-what?! You could do that?!"

Nigel gawked at my Flame Sword from where he dangled upside down on the ceiling.

"If you can do that, then hurry up and save me already!"

God, he was loud. Even if I did save him, he'd be last in line.

Fsssssh—!

The Arachne Queen must have sensed the threat. It fired webbing at me without my even approaching. I battered every strand aside with the Flame Sword and charged the massive body behind them. Now that its prized silk had been rendered useless, the creature had nothing left that could threaten me.

It stopped shooting and frantically piled webs into a wall, trying to halt my rush.

Layer the silk as thick as it liked. Webbing was still webbing. I drove the Flame Sword through the wall in an instant and, at last, buried the blade in the Arachne Queen's skull.