I was going to fall asleep standing up. No, worse, I was going to impale myself on my spear after falling from my perch. That would be a dumb way to die.

  “Still awake up there?” Calr called from his lookout perch one tower down.

  “Barely,” I muttered, jabbing the butt of my spear at a spider the size of a dinner plate trying to crawl up the outer wall. It skittered back down, disappearing into the web-choked underbrush. “Tell me again why we’re doing this alone?”

  “Because our glorious sergeant decided to go ‘inspect’ the inns,” he replied dryly. “With company.”

  Da’i hadn’t shown up to relieve us. He’d left Yon’s team with full responsibility for the night watch, taking one of his squad mates with him, a girl who was always smiling at him and not wearing enough armor. They never came back.

  The spiders hadn’t attacked in force, but they didn’t retreat either. They slowly spread, patient and calculating. Webs now clung to the trees well beyond the perimeter Yon showed us. Thin trip lines crossed the roads. Sticky threads angled to catch carts, livestock, or anything moving in or out.

  Social spiders didn’t wage war. Not if they could claim territory instead. Back on Earth, some species avoided direct confrontation altogether, growing their colonies slowly, overtaking rivals by suffocation rather than slaughter. It looked like these spiders had a similar strategy: build, expand, and outlast.

  Which meant we had to keep them contained.

  That would’ve been easier if we weren’t all half-dead on our feet.

  The Bloodline Realm’s days were shorter, maybe twenty hours long, but without the confusing double-sun nonsense of the Contested Realm. The dawn of the next day lit the sky. Still, exhaustion didn’t care about sunlight. I’d lost track of time. My legs ached, my brain buzzed, and my fingers were starting to twitch.

  Vena was crouched on one platform, wrapped in a blanket, and holding a quarterstaff she had picked up for extra range. She didn’t say anything. She didn’t have to. I could see it in the sag of her shoulders, the glazed eyes. She’d barely had a break since the matriarch attack.

  Yon was in his tent, sleeping off the side effects of the perfect state. Vals was standing guard over him.

  Kan, meanwhile, was on the opposite corner, still and silent. Her eyes moved like clockwork. Every fifteen seconds, she scanned her quadrant. Chains coiled like a sleeping snake on her shoulder. I wondered how she stayed so sharp.

  Then I remembered something Louis had told me once: Some Kindred people could push themselves into an overdrive state. Ninety hours of function. Then they crashed. Hard.

  I hoped she hadn’t started that clock already.

  As daylight cleared the horizon, I noticed a line of wagons stopped at the edge of the valley rather than risk the silk-filled road. Probably merchants here to buy silk. Let’s hope this setback doesn’t turn into an economic disaster.

  The da’i squad, which was supposed to relieve us at dawn, didn’t show up until four hours past schedule. One of Da’i’s boys wandered up with a yawn and a half-eaten pear, like we hadn’t been on the brink of collapse all night.

  “Shift change,” he said lazily, as if we weren’t one skipped meal away from keeling over.

  “Where the hell were you?” I snapped.

  He blinked at me, confused. “Got delayed.”

  I didn’t trust myself to answer that without shocking him.

  So I climbed down from the ladder, legs shaking, and handed him the alarm bell.

  “Good luck,” I said.

  “To the spiders,” I added under my breath. “I hope you all get bit.”

  Then I turned and followed Vena and Kan off the wall, back toward camp, every step heavier than the last.

  We made it back to the tents like corpses that had been reanimated by an incompetent necromancer.

  Vena all but collapsed onto her sleeping roll, dragging her blanket up to her chin before her head even hit the pillow. I didn’t blame her. She was half-dead after the last night, especially after getting webbed, drained, and then working herself to pieces healing everyone else. And apparently, all of that hadn’t exempted her from night duty either.

  Kan and I ducked into the tent we shared, the canvas still damp from morning dew. She didn’t say anything. Just dropped onto her bedroll, arms crossed, and closed her eyes like someone flipping a switch.

  I had just enough energy to peel off my boots and eat a dry biscuit I found in my pack. It tasted like dust and regret.

  I barely slept a wink when someone ripped the flap open.

  “Up,” said a voice I already wanted to punch.

  My hand twitched toward lightning.

  “Whoa there,” Da’i said, holding up his hands. “Calm down. I’m not here to fight. I need Kan.”

  Kan sat up slowly, expression flat.

  “For what?” I asked, narrowing my eyes.

  “Important business,” Da’i said like he was announcing a royal ball. “I want to try something. One of the matriarchs crossed too far past the perimeter. I’m going to challenge it and see if my psychic affinity is strong enough to suppress it.”

  I blinked. “You want to fight a matriarch. Again? Haven’t you learned anything from yesterday?”

  “I didn’t fight it.” He turned to Kan. “I need you to restrain it with your chains while I push its mind. I bet my psychic powers are strong enough to calm them down.”

  Kan was already sitting up, her face unreadable. But I could see the tension in her jaw.

  “Did you run this by Rodal?” I asked.

  He smiled. “I don’t need to. I’m the ranking officer here. I outrank even him. I am a count, after all.”

  “You’re the only one standing because Yon nearly died saving your ass,” I muttered.

  He ignored me. “Kan, that’s an order. If you refuse, I’ll file a demerit with the Guild. Dereliction of duty.”

  Kan looked at me. I nodded once, subtly. She stood and followed him out of the tent.

  I waited three full heartbeats, then pulled on my boots. Vena was awakened by the discussion.

  “Go alert Rodal, in case things develop for the worst,” I told Vena.

  I grabbed my spear and slipped out after them.

  They were heading for the north gate; the opposite side of the village from the forest, the side where only a few wandering spiders had made it. Still, thin silk traps stretched between trees, like spider tripwires meant to catch deer, horses, or scouts too slow to see them.

  From a distance, I could already see Da’i’s squad moving ahead, slinging flashy magic at anything that twitched. Two of them kicked a dead spider like a football.

  I followed them from the trees, keeping low.

  Kan was next to Da’i, surrounded by people she couldn’t trust. She didn’t converse with them. She just stared ahead at the shapes moving in the trees.

  They got close to the matriarch now.

  And it was massive.

  She crouched near the road, legs angled low, stringing thread between broken branches with the slow grace of something completely at home. Silk caught the wind like a fishing net. Traps. I’d seen spiders on Earth do similar things, but not on this scale. To something that big, horses probably looked like grasshoppers.

  I decided to blow my cover and join them, just in case things went wrong while I was too far to help.

  Da’i and his team didn’t even notice me. They were too distracted by the looming matriarch.

  “Now!” Da’i shouted.

  Kan flung her chain. The spiked links wrapped around the spider’s limbs, catching tightly.

  Da’i was grinning like he was about to win a bet.

  He raised his arm, holding two pink monster cores in his fists. His tattoos started to glow pink, a color often associated with the Psychic affinity in the Bloodlines. Then he stepped forward, aura pouring out in steady pulses. It hit me at the same time it hit the big spider.

  Why did I doubt him? This plan is flawless. Da’i is such a good leader. Maybe I should join his crew instead of Yon’s or Nakera’s.

  “Fuck that.” I shook my head. “That was unpleasant.”

  The matriarch hissed and reeled; she too seemed affected for a second before breaking out of it.

  Then she roared.

  Her legs flexed once, twice, and the chains snapped loose on the third. Kan staggered back, dropping on her rear from the backlash. Her breathing hitched. Out of mana. She hadn’t had the book for more than a week. She was probably still learning how to be efficient.

  Da’i froze. His magic sputtered. He took a step back, then another.

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  “Retreat!” he barked. “All units, pull back!”

  His squad bolted.

  They left Kan behind.

  Of course, they did.

  “Fucking cowards,” I shouted at them. “There are ten of you!”

  I stepped forward. There was no way I was leaving Kan behind.

  I stepped up beside her, spear in hand, as the matriarch reared up with a chittering scream that made the back of my neck crawl. Behind her, more shapes skittered in the underbrush: spiderlings, drawn to the scent of fear and pheromones. We were about to get swarmed.

  Kan pulled herself to her feet, one knee still trembling. “That idiot fried my reserves. I’ve got nothing left.”

  “You’ve still got your chain,” I said.

  She gave me a grim smile. “Not the same without mana. But I’ll make it count.”

  The matriarch lunged.

  “Split!” I shouted.

  We dove in opposite directions as the spider’s fangs slammed into the dirt where we’d just been. I rolled and came up on one knee, thrusting my spear into her side. The tip scraped off her chitin, but it got her attention.

  “Take this, you overgrown insect!” I snarled and zapped her with a burst of lightning.

  She screeched, legs twitching, and backed up only for a moment. The smaller spiders had arrived. Half a dozen, cat-sized, fast, and vicious. One darted for Kan’s back.

  “Behind you!” I yelled.

  Kan twisted mid-step and cracked her chain like a whip. The weighted end smashed the spider midair and sent it tumbling into a tree.

  “Thanks,” she muttered.

  “Don’t mention it.”

  The matriarch came again, and this time I met her head-on. I ducked under a mandible, stabbed upward into her abdomen, and shocked her again. The lightning made her shudder, but her silk came next, fast and sticky.

  A thick line of webbing slammed into my shoulder, pulling hard. I staggered, yanked off-balance. My spear arm dragged low.

  Kan swung her chain again, knocking two more spiderlings away from me, but I could see the sweat on her brow. She was fading.

  “We’re getting surrounded,” she said, eyes flicking to the sides.

  “Think we can make a break for it?”

  “Not without bait.”

  “Perfect,” I muttered. “My favorite role.”

  She grunted and slammed her chain into another spider. “Do you ever use your perfect state?” she asked.

  “I’ve practiced, like once. It’s risky. Drains you like hell.”

  Kan’s chain wrapped around a spiderling’s leg, and with a grunt, she yanked it off its feet and smashed it into a second one. “Now might be a good time to risk it.”

  I drew in breath, watching the matriarch circle us like a lion, picking which meat to bite first.

  More spiders came. I stabbed one, zapped another, and a third bit me before getting whipped by Kan.

  My muscles were burning. The webbing tugged at my joints. And I could feel something... numbness, spreading.

  Venom.

  I didn’t say it out loud.

  Kan must’ve known, though. She was dragging her chain like it weighed a hundred kilos. “Alice,” she said, “this is about to go bad.”

  “I know,” I said.

  I planted my spear, legs braced.

  “If I go down…” she called.

  “You’re not going down!” I screamed.

  Another spider leapt.

  “Left!” she shouted.

  I spun and caught it midair with a jolt of lightning that left my fingers tingling. I was almost out of mana.

  Then came the matriarch, charging, wild-eyed, screeching.

  I didn’t have the strength to block it. I doubted even the Perfect State would allow me to. I stared into her eyes and saw the kill coming. We were out of time.

  And then,

  A roar of flame burst between us.

  A figure landed in front of Kan, slamming into the ground with a wave of heat that scorched the grass. Fire bloomed around him like a phoenix rising. His blue armor gleamed like tempered steel, his stance wide and protective. Brown hair spiked upward, and his eyes glowed with an orange light.

  He didn’t look at us. He faced the matriarch like he was born to stop it.

  Kan froze, breath catching in her throat. Her chain hung limp. For a second, it was like she couldn’t breathe.

  Then, steel shimmered.

  From the treeline, a second figure moved, fast as light.

  A blur, then a flash; a whisper of metal through air.

  The matriarch shrieked as half her legs fell away in perfect diagonal slices, ichor spraying like a broken pipe. She collapsed in a twitching heap.

  Standing beside her now was a boy with shin-length black hair, hakama-style trousers, and a pair of twin swords dripping with blood. He didn’t say a word. He didn’t need to. His calm was louder than shouting.

  Kan blinked. Her lips parted slightly, her chest rising and falling in short, shaky breaths. She stared at the fire-lit figure in front of her like he’d stepped out of a dream or maybe turned into one.

  “Who…” she murmured, too stunned to finish.

  My legs gave out. I hit the ground on one knee, barely aware of the webbing still clinging to my shoulder. I was alive. Somehow. The matriarch had been inches from ending me. I’d felt it. That certainty of death. That moment when your whole body goes still, knowing it's too late.

  And then they’d appeared.

  We were saved.

  Kan collapsed fully, still conscious, barely. I saw two dark, oozing punctures on her side, spider bites. Her breathing was shallow, but steady.

  The sword-boy flicked his blades once, casting spider blood into the dirt, and turned to finish the matriarch.

  “Wait!” I called out, staggering to my feet. “Don’t kill it!”

  He paused, one sword mid-arc.

  “Killing another matriarch might trigger another wave,” I said, panting. “Let her crawl off and die somewhere that won’t piss off her sisters.”

  He frowned, but lowered his weapon. “Fine.”

  The fire-boy, still wreathed in smoke and heat, turned his head to check on Kan. His eyes softened for just a second. Then he stepped forward, moving with grace, and scooped her up into a smooth, effortless princess carry.

  Kan’s eyes fluttered. She blinked up at him, pupils dilated, lips parted slightly.

  “You’re warm,” she whispered, voice half-delirious.

  “You’ll be alright,” he said gently.

  She nodded once and closed her eyes.

  “Katar, help her,” he said, not looking back.

  The sword-boy, Katar, apparently, sheathed one blade and approached me.

  “Lean on me.”

  “I can walk,” I said, wobbling.

  “You can limp. Let’s not waste time.”

  He wasn’t wrong. My legs were pudding, my arm was burning, and the venom was making my vision blur. I took his arm, trying not to groan.

  Behind us, the matriarch writhed, broken but alive.

  And I realized, if they hadn’t come…

  We would’ve died.

  There were no miracles, no last-second clever plan. Just an overconfident girl who thought she could fight monsters after one month of training, just because she killed a bunch of rats first. This isn’t a video game. I wasn’t ready to fight giant spiders the size of a truck.

  I glanced at Kan, still limp in the fire-boy’s arms. She would’ve died if I hadn’t followed her. But I should have brought Calr and Vena. Maybe even Shingo and the battle tailor. Sadly, those are the only people in Yon’s misfit crew who wouldn’t have run like Da’i’s did.

  My crisis of confidence was interrupted by another voice called from behind.

  “Raik! You forgot to wait for me, again.”

  A girl sprinted up the trail, cyan hair tied back in a tail. She wore a scaled half-cape and light leather armor that shimmered faintly with enchantments.

  The fire-boy, Raik, grinned.

  “You spend too much time talking with the merchants.”

  “I was gathering information about what lay ahead.”

  “Those guys were waiting for things to clear up to approach the village. I doubt they would have scouted the situation.”

  “You’re right, but at least I now have a better grasp on the price of silk,” grinned the girl.

  That smirk was familiar. When had I seen her before?

  They helped us down the path, back toward the village. I was still catching my breath when Raik spoke again.

  “I’m Raik Agame. That’s Katar Okain,” he said, nodding to the swordsman. “And this is Ja’a of Skylift Lake.”

  Kan stiffened slightly in the boy’s arms at the name Agame, her fingers twitching faintly against his chest.

  I, on the other hand, caught something else.

  “Skylift Lake?” I blinked. “Are you related to Tan Je’e?”

  Ja’a raised an eyebrow. “You know my sister?”

  “Yeah. Bought some jewelry from me. Gave me a good price too.”

  She grinned. “Sounds like her. What a lucky coincidence.”

  Katar rolled his eyes. “It’s not luck. You have seventeen sisters. Everyone in the world knows at least one of them.”

  That earned a small laugh, even from me.

  “I am San Alice Hecate, and this is Kan,” I gestured at the wide-eyed girl still cradled in Raik’s arms, clearly embarrassed by the attention.

  By the time we reached the village gates, my legs were jelly and my lungs were gravel. But we were alive.

  Vena rushed from the guard post the second she saw us, her hands already glowing with healing light. She dropped beside me and Kan, checking our pulses before we even stopped moving. She looked pale, terrified, but her hands were steady.

  “What happened?” she gasped, casting a stream of light toward Kan’s puncture wounds first.

  “Da’i happened,” I said bitterly.

  And speak of the devil.

  Da’i stood just inside the gate, waving his arms as he spoke rapidly to Headman Rodal. His squad loitered behind him, avoiding eye contact, trying to fade into the wood and stone like bad graffiti.

  “It was her idea,” Da’i said, pointing at Kan without even glancing over. “The traitor’s daughter! She insisted on engaging the matriarch. I had no choice but to support her.”

  Kan flinched. Not visibly, but I saw her jaw tighten. Her hands curled slowly at her sides. She didn’t speak. She didn’t have to. Raik saw it. Saw her reaction.

  He handed Kan off gently to Vena, stepping forward without a word. His face was expressionless, firelight still clinging to his shoulders like a mantle.

  Then he punched Da’i square in the face.

  Da’i crashed to the ground in a tangle of limbs and wounded pride, clutching his cheek with a high-pitched grunt.

  “You dare strike me?” he shouted, scrambling upright. “I am a ranked noble of the Green Blossom family!”

  Raik stepped closer, the heat rising again. Flame licked along his sleeves, curling in slow arcs around his wrists.

  “And you’re standing in the Bloodline Realm,” he said coldly. “These are Agame ancestral lands, not your Soul Realm jurisdiction.”

  Da’i opened his mouth, then hesitated.

  Raik didn’t stop. He kept his voice level, quiet, like the calm before a wildfire.

  “I saw you abandon your teammates,” he said, gesturing to me and Kan without looking away. “I saw you run while others bled.”

  “I’m a sergeant…!”

  “You’re a coward,” Raik cut in.

  His words landed like a slap, harder than his fist. The fire at his feet sparked as his aura deepened. Behind him, even Katar seemed to stand straighter, his hand drifting casually toward the hilt of his sword.

  Rodal, who had stood silently until now, narrowed his eyes and took a small step back, away from Da’i.

  “I am Duke Raik Agame,” Raik said, his voice rising, formal now, ringing with that kind of dangerous nobility you couldn’t fake. “Brother to Commander Kitchi Agame. Son of the hero Taka Agame.”

  Flames danced up his legs. The very ground beneath him blackened and cracked.

  His presence filled the space like thunder held behind a dam. No yelling. No theatrics. Just pressure.

  Rodal bowed low without hesitation.

  Da’i opened his mouth again, but nothing came out. His bravado had drained away like water down a crack.

  No one else spoke: not Da’i, not the freelancer, and not the guards. And especially not Vena, who was the only person able to ignore Raik’s presence. She was still kneeling beside Kan, gently casting another round of healing light into her sides.

  The heat faded. The tension lifted like steam.

  Raik turned back toward us. He didn’t smile, but his eyes moved to each of us in turn, to me, Vena, and Kan.

  He nodded.

  And at that moment, I knew...

  We don’t have to weather this disaster alone anymore.

  We had new friends.

  Real ones.