As daylight stretched over the night sky, weak light poured through the holes from the ceiling. Some areas of the cave remained shrouded in shadow, and direct sunlight had yet to peek through.

  We were all in place. I spent some time recovering our armor pieces and putting them into my bag. Kaylie was kind enough to repair them while we waited for the right moment to act. We had not donned them yet. Instead, we wore as few clothes as we could get away with. This meant we were both wearing boots, pants, and gloves, and nothing else.

  As dawn was soon to break, it was going to begin.

  Kaylie and I retraced our path underwater, swimming back the way we had come to escape the spiders. When Rabbit gave the signal, we rose from the air pocket below and surfaced where the spiders had been gathering.

  Thanks to Rabbit’s memory of the layout, we navigated without light. The cave itself was unlikely to have changed, but the danger was whether any spiders were waiting near the water’s edge. If they were, we’d have to retreat fast.

  As we surfaced, we took great care to breathe as quietly as possible. Though our lungs screamed for air, we managed our breaths with discipline. Kaylie's breathing was notably softer, almost inaudible, perhaps her Stealth skill played a part. Lacking such abilities, I relied solely on the visual cues Rabbit provided, which made me the de facto leader.

  I cautiously moved forward, with Kaylie tethered to me by a short rope. This setup allowed her to follow closely without risk of separation. Our initial attempt with a longer rope had been a disaster, proving that a shorter length was necessary for coordinated movement. Crawling out from the water's edge proved challenging, especially since Kaylie couldn’t see the obstacles ahead. My careful guidance was crucial as I led the way, ensuring that both of us avoided the jagged rocks. Thankfully, our sturdy gloves and pants protected us from cuts and scrapes as we maneuvered onto solid ground.

  As we walked, Kaylie moved closer, placing her hand on my shoulder and pressing her body against mine. The sudden closeness, heightened by our minimal clothing, caught me off guard, causing me to stumble. This slight misstep made Kaylie nearly trip as well, but fortunately, we were moving slowly enough to prevent a fall.

  Kaylie poked me in the ribs playfully, while Rabbit chided me in my head, “Smooth move. You almost alerted the spiders and messed everything up.”

  As we waited, nothing changed, and I let out my breath. We then resumed our cautious advance.

  Moments later, I accidentally kicked something unexpected in the path. To my surprise, it clattered with the sound of metal striking the cave floor as it shifted.

  "Time's up," I told Kaylie, though she already knew. The spider’s skittering grew louder, and she began her incantation.

  I braced myself as the spider I had kicked earlier lunged. This time, I was ready. I caught it midair and used its momentum to hurl it behind me, sending it skidding toward the water. Not ideal, but at least next time I’d see it coming.

  Kaylie’s spell took longer than expected, and more spiders closed in. The one I’d thrown was already back on its legs, ready to strike again.

  Then, finally, her spell erupted. A burst of light and a wave of heat exploded from her hands. I staggered back, half-blinded, but the spider recoiled too. The flash had stunned it, giving me a brief advantage I didn’t plan to waste.

  Rabbit had previously told me that the spiders’ eyes were static. That meant that they had to turn their whole body to see. That was also why the spider had six eyes. It provided broad coverage over a specific area at a particular time. That would be a tremendous advantage, but Humans on Earth evolved only to have two eyes and move them around. While we couldn’t see many places at once, we also had the advantage of using the calories saved on brain power.

  At this moment, eyesight was a weakness to the spider. It had the advantage of being able to see or sense in the dark, while Kaylie and I couldn’t. But right now, the spider had to flinch to one side because its eyes were static, and it lacked eyelids. In that moment of distraction, the creature exposed a clear opening on its body, and I wasted no time in striking.

  I took my sword and sliced down at the perfect angle, hitting three legs at the joints. The only way I made that cut was that the light had stunned the spider. If it were moving, my aim would not have been good enough to concretely hit even one leg, let alone three at once.

  The alignment of the spider’s legs also played into my hands. As it stood still, profiled against the light, its middle legs lined up perfectly, presenting an ideal target.

  Our fire attack wasn’t meant to burn the spiders directly. From experience, we knew that scorching them did little real damage. Instead, the plan was to flood the cave with fire and smoke. The spiders weren’t the only thing filling this place. Thick webs strung across the walls and ceilings made perfect fuel.

  Kaylie’s long-casting spell, Incendiary Fire, was designed to let flames propagate themselves. It sounded counterintuitive, but that made the fire spread farther while using less fuel, allowing the webs to carry the blaze deeper into the cave.

  After Kaylie used her Incendiary Fire, there were three fuel sources in the cave where we were standing. The first was the flames she created, the second was the webs that littered the whole cave, and the third was the air we were breathing. Though we knew the fire might make the spiders shy away, it wouldn’t ultimately kill them. The objective was not to incinerate the spiders directly but to deplete the cave’s oxygen.

  The combination of all three fuel sources was quickly depleting the oxygen in the cave. Fortunately, from my experience underwater with the spiders, I learned they could not hold their breath like us mammals. Unfortunately, we also needed oxygen to survive.

  The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

  As Kaylie’s spell spilled from her hands, a noticeable decrease in oxygen quickly followed, especially on our side of the flames. Trapped between the fire and the water, we were confined to a dwindling pocket of air in a cave with no additional exits. The air began to thin rapidly, whipped into the consuming flames by a swirling draft.

  I grabbed Kaylie and yelled, “We have to go now!”

  It seemed she was not out of mana, and she wanted to continue, but I knew if we waited any longer, this would be our tomb. I firmly grasped her arm and pulled. Kaylie, perhaps as strong as or stronger than I, didn’t resist. She allowed herself to be led, her flames extinguishing as we moved.

  Ahead, the tunnel’s end glowed ominously with fire spilling into a larger cavern. The flames near us dimmed rapidly, a sure sign that oxygen was becoming critically scarce.

  “Don’t breathe,” I cautioned, but we had already inhaled significant amounts of carbon dioxide from the fire.

  Rabbit later explained that the fire was consuming the oxygen around us and converting it into carbon dioxide. Our position below the flames should have allowed the heavier, cooler air to stay near us, with the lighter, hot smoke rising above. However, the rapid depletion of oxygen was a critical concern. If not careful, the accumulating carbon monoxide, a by-product of incomplete combustion, could prove lethal before the smoke itself became an issue.

  I sheathed my sword in my bag as we dashed down the corridor. The minimal clothing and the diminishing light behind us made it easier to move quickly. Despite our speed, I was already feeling lightheaded before we even reached the water. Ignoring the potential danger, I jumped in, indifferent to the rocky descent. A sharp jab to my leg caught my attention, but under the circumstances, it was the least of my concerns.

  Kaylie followed closely as I plunged into the water, the dimming light making it nearly impossible for her to see. She relied entirely on my lead, knowing the route I had swum before. Despite this familiarity, my growing headache with each stroke made it increasingly difficult to focus, and a creeping panic began to set in.

  Midway to the air pocket, Kaylie unexpectedly started pulling in the opposite direction. Our tether strained as I resisted her pull, confused and increasingly worried about what might be happening to her. I yanked the rope, trying to guide us back on course, but she persisted in the wrong direction. Even as I wondered if something was attacking her, I knew that reaching oxygen was critical. The outline of our destination was just visible ahead, provided by Rabbit.

  The pain in my head worsened, and the urge to sleep was almost overwhelming. Every blink felt like a battle against my eyelids. As we approached the air pocket, my condition deteriorated. I was barely conscious, dragging both my own weight and Kaylie’s apparent resistance through the water.

  Finally, my head broke the surface, and I gasped for air, my instincts kicking in despite the confusion. As clarity returned with each breath, I realized Kaylie was not moving. Panicking, I pulled harder on the rope, bringing her to the surface, but she remained limp and unresponsive.

  “Quick, start mouth-to-mouth!” Rabbit urged urgently.

  I followed his advice without hesitation, knowing it was the best way to revive her while keeping her afloat. Chest compressions would have been too challenging in the water. After about fifteen seconds of desperate resuscitation, Kaylie began to cough, her consciousness slowly returning.

  As she came to, she mumbled groggily, “Were you kissing me…?”

  Predictably, Rabbit’s laughter echoed in my mind.

  “You were unconscious, and I had to help you breathe,” I explained, trying to make it simple. “I was breathing into your mouth to push air into your lungs because you couldn’t do it yourself.”

  It was pitch black in here. I couldn’t see her face, so I didn’t know what she was thinking. Either she didn’t believe me, or she was grateful. I couldn’t tell either.

  “Well, I guess I’m alive? Thank you? What happened?” Kaylie said each sentence slowly as if they were all questions.

  “We were almost out of air. The fire was burning up all the oxygen,” I reminded her gently, knowing the science might be lost on her.

  “But the flames were still going strong,” she countered, puzzled. “You said we’d be in trouble when the fire died down because that meant there’d be no oxygen left. Yet, the flames were still burning.”

  “You’re right, but there’s more to it. Normally, the air we breathe is about 21 percent oxygen,” I began, basing my assumption on Earth’s atmospheric composition, hoping it was similar here. “Carbon dioxide makes up roughly 0.04 percent. When we breathe, our bodies convert some of that oxygen into carbon dioxide, which we then exhale. If you were to breathe in and out from the same air without fresh oxygen, you’d eventually suffocate. It typically happens within five to ten minutes, or roughly 75 to 150 breaths.”

  I paused, searching for the simplest way to explain the issue. “But here’s the critical part. We were breathing in air heavily laden with carbon dioxide, far above normal levels. Even if just 4 percent of the air turned to carbon dioxide due to the fire, that’s enough to be deadly.”

  Admittedly, I wasn’t familiar with all these specifics before. Rabbit had briefed me on the dangerous and safe levels of gases just before we went in. By the time I realized the levels were too high, I’d already inhaled too much. Holding my breath would have been wiser. As for Kaylie, she was closer to the flames, inhaling even more, which probably caused her to pass out. Once we spoke, it became clear that she had been disoriented underwater, which is why she pulled away. Rabbit had warned that disorientation could quickly lead to coma or even brain damage. Fortunately, I think we managed to intervene in time to prevent any lasting harm to Kaylie.

  Still, I suspected both of us would be dealing with headaches for a while, though mine might lessen quicker thanks to my healing abilities. A sip of a healing potion would benefit Kaylie, but first, we needed to regroup with Jack and Sana. After spending a minute to catch our breath and gather our strength, we swam back, got dressed, and rejoined the others before donning our armor. We wanted to make sure that Sana and Jack were both alright before we took the time for anything that wasn’t necessary.

  When we arrived, Sana’s face was flushed red, which deepened to an almost purple hue by the time we had our armor on. Before departing, we had packed as much mud as possible into the crevices of the cave’s large boulder, blocking potential entry points for the spiders’ slender legs. Sana’s task was critical. Her job was to prevent air from flowing into that part of the cave. Although the mud and boulder would handle most of the sealing, any small air leaks required her attention. While airflow could feed the flames, it would also supply oxygen to the spiders trapped inside, which we absolutely needed to avoid.

  The mud hadn’t held as effectively as we had hoped, so Sana had been using her magic continuously to keep the air from going down the tunnel. Since I didn’t really use spells, I didn’t know why it was difficult for her, but I would ask that later. My assumption was either you would be out of mana, or you wouldn’t. It shouldn’t have a difficult factor in it, but seeing as I only had two spells at level 1, what did I know?

  When we were all set, I said, “Ready, Sana, you can stop.”

  “Are you sure about this? Because if you are wrong, we will all be dead,” Jack questioned.

  “I can’t hold much longer. It’s happening one way or another,” Sana said through gritted teeth.

  “I am sure. Let’s do this,” I assured with confidence I did not feel.