Harvey slipped into a new rhythm over the next 3 days, alternating between forging arc charges, mining essence crystals, killing any newly evolved elementals, and clearing out the forest surrounding the walls. Gathering enough lightning resonance for a single batch of ink ended up needing an entire elemental, so his crafting speed was only around 12 new arc charges per day. The one time he managed to find 3 F Grades, he set aside the extra body to try and make some steel weapons for Julian and Hannah.

  They’d outgrown their infantry gear weeks ago, but it wasn’t like there were any master bowyers or weaponsmiths around to craft them an upgrade. Harvey was confident he could make a better sword than Julian's, since his would be essence-infused and grow alongside him whenever Julian used Burning Resolve, but the best he could do for Hannah was an infused knife she could use if she ran out of arrows. He worked on the plans in between forging, inscribing, and hunting sessions, and was ready to get started as soon as the sun went down.

  A few preliminary tests had discovered that a single baseball-sized arc charge had enough juice to crack four essence crystals. Doing so would obliterate the ink, meaning he wouldn’t have to worry about the Undead digging up the grenades and using them against him. In the end, he’d sacrificed 4 of his grenades to learn the optimal depth and number of crystals to include in his magical IED’s. He’d dig a shallow hole around 9 inches deep, bury the charge at the bottom, stack the essence crystals on top, and cover the trap with loose soil and dead leaves. As long as the Undead didn’t have a way to sense the bombs magically, they shouldn’t notice anything amiss.

  Digging holes outside the walls had attracted the attention of quite a few beasts. Now that there weren’t hunting parties constantly clearing out the forest close to the outpost, the wildlife had returned with a vengeance. Luckily, he never took off his armor, so the sound of an infected Carrionwing feather plinking off his helmet warned him when a flock swooped into the clearing. Instead of using Innovator’s Arsenal to conjure his warhammer, he had chosen to replicate his shield. The tide of birds raked talons and skeletal wings across the conjured steel, charging the runes until an overcharged lightning burst turned them into fried chicken. One had died outright, while five more convulsed on the ground as a sickening plume of mist radiated from their bodies. Harvey carefully extracted five of the largest acid-filled feathers before crushing them with Aftershock. He did the same when similar packs of Bloodrunn and Stonetusks tried to ambush him outside the walls.

  None had evolved to F Grade yet, but they were all close. He assumed the evolved beasts were smart enough to stay away from the Outpost that had taken the lives of so many of their brothers and sisters. Harvey didn’t know if beasts got an increase to all stats like his Veilstrider race provided, but even the brutish Stonetusks seemed to get smarter as they leveled up.

  He’d focused on setting traps outside the walls first, just in case any spies showed up in the near future. His plan would be ruined if one of those bats or a skeleton saw him digging holes all over the place, so he always made a broad sweep of the clearing before burying any charges. There’d been absolutely no sign of the Undead yet, and he was starting to wonder if that was a good thing.

  Eventually, he’d have to start asking himself whether the army had gone around him. He figured he’d at least run into a scouting party before that happened, but doubt still gnawed at him. In any case, he’d need to leave for a Loom soon. His efforts setting up the traps and clearing out beasts had been rewarded with 2 more Class levels and 1 Profession level, pushing his Race to Level 31 and his Profession to 34. One more, and he’d have a new skill ready and waiting for him.

  The Loom was gone without a trace, disappearing just as fast as when Julian placed it in the old church. Harvey didn’t have to create his new skill the second it became available, but he didn’t want to wait too long either. Part of him believed the delay in creating skills every few levels instead of getting the entire set the second you evolved was to leave time for the experiences that would become your next ability. If he waited to fill his level 35 slot until he was level 40, he’d be spending 15 levels of experience on the first with only 5 to fuel the second.

  What should my next skill be? He thought, wiping his hands after covering up the last charge for the day. Leaning against the shovel, he slipped his gauntlets back on. He always waited until the last minute to start brainstorming, even if he knew exactly when the next opportunity would come. There was just too much to think about for him to always have a perfect plan ready.

  His eyes shot towards the trees when he heard a twig snap, followed by low, labored breathing. The shovel disappeared, replaced by his warhammer as a familiar pit formed in his chest. Stumbling out of the clearing was a… Stonetusk?

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  Something was wrong with it. It was alone, for starters, which was unusual for the beasts that usually relied on stampeding herds to grind down their foes, but that wasn’t what caught his eye. It was like the boar had walked right out of a black-and-white tv, the sickly green leather covering its body bleached gray. Harvey couldn’t see any wounds, but the boar collapsed in a heap right on top of one of his traps.

  What could do something like that?

  Harvey’s heart was trying to pound its way out of his chest. It was a good thing he wore gauntlets, otherwise he’d have to worry about his sweaty hands keeping their grip on his hammer.

  Tentatively, he crept towards the boar. Its body was deathly still, looking more like a statue than a corpse. His instincts told him to run, but he couldn’t leave the body blocking one of his traps. The usual noise of the forest sounded like an angry orchestra as he listened for anything out of the ordinary. Hearing nothing, he prodded the body with his hammer. Dead flesh gave way to prove no medusa had actually turned it to stone, but that didn’t do much to quell the tempest in his chest.

  The orange light of sunset made it hard to see, so he fed a trickle of essence into the glowing runes on his gauntlets. The intense glow illuminated the shadowy forest, and a feral scream escaped his lips as he saw a skull staring back at him. Tiny flecks of teal exploded into swirling orbs that filled the empty eye sockets as it charged toward him. Harvey hid behind his shield as he backed away, seeing his enemy's true form as it stepped into the light.

  It was one of the bone spiders from the vision, a beast of the Undead army. He’d judged them to be around the size of a wolf in his vision, but the real thing was closer to a bear. No flesh clung to the milky white bones, only essence holding the skeleton together like some strange elemental. A gentle moan joined clattering bones as it reared up on its hind legs, two sets of legs slamming down on his shield and his shoulders before knocking him to the ground.

  Its Strength wasn’t overbearing. He was just stunned. There was something so alien about its eyes, and even after killing countless Carrionwing, he wasn’t ready to face a living skeletal spider. If the Kalthera Widows hadn’t given him arachnophobia, this spider would.

  Harvey shrieked as his head hit the forest floor, his feet desperately pushing him away from the hulking frame. Humanlike hands adorned the end of each leg. Two clung to his shoulders while another set tried ripping the shield from his hand. It tugged against the leather straps holding tight to his forearm, and gave up when it couldn’t wrench the steel free. Instead, it opted to grab his head, pressing it into the dirt as the skull hovered over his face.

  Dozens of glowing runes flared to life as the spider began spinning a line of thin, silky thread matching the color of its teal eye orbs. Harvey ineffectually squirmed as the thread was wrapped around his legs, the spider easily picking him up and spinning him like a rotisserie chicken. Dull pain spread through him everywhere the thread touched, even through his steel armor. There was no sizzle or smoke where silk met steel. His armor didn’t respond at all. It was the flesh underneath being drained. Drained of Vitality, his life-force being stolen moment by moment. No matter what he did to try to break the thread, it only wrapped tighter until his legs were completely restrained.

  He could tell the process of siphoning his life would take time, but that wouldn’t matter to the spider if Harvey couldn’t break himself free. His mind raced for a solution, only to be split in agony as the first thread touched his inscribed breastplate. It was the first piece containing his weave to be touched by the unholy spider, and he felt it shudder in delight as it got a mainlight connection to his essence.

  “Let me go!” he screamed, still flailing as violently as he could, but the skeletal hands held firm. Before he could be wrapped any tighter, he flooded Booster with essence and released a gout of flame from his feet. The spider tried to hang on, but it was like trying to hold onto a rocket.

  If gravity wasn’t enough, the spider didn’t have a chance.

  Slipping through the skeletal hands, Harvey rocketed over 50 feet, leaving a trail of silk whipping through the air behind him. He’d been practicing flying ever since the incident in the mines, but was still far from the skill being instinctual. His desperate escape ended with a violent tumble, eventually crashing into the stone piled high to reinforce the wall around Veils End.

  Every atom of oxygen escaped his lungs on impact, and his eyes tunneled in as he stared at the spider scrambling towards him. Gasping for air, he waited until it finally stepped over one of his traps just 15 feet away. The ground exploded as dirt and debris were sent skyward by an ocean of lightning and the steely-blue light of untamed essence. Bolts burrowed into bones, disrupting the constant flow of silk as the runic array covering them was dismantled. The orbs that filled its eye sockets flared from teal to blue before winking out completely, taking the energy holding the skeleton together with it. Bone rained down all around him, and he watched as silk tried pulling them back together before being drowned in foreign essence.

  Harvey didn’t move for a long time, even after the light and lightning all dissipated. He just sat, heaving to catch his breath as he stared at the cracked skull sticking out of the dirt just in front of him.

  The sound of wood scraping against stone yanked him back to the present, and he screamed as a nest of bone appeared from inside the gate.

  “Harvey? Harvey, it’s ok! It’s Hannah!” she yelled, the rest of Buttercup’s frame rushing into the clearing.

  “We heard an explosion and came running,” Julian added from behind. “Are you ok?”

  “Do I look ok to you?!” Harvey screamed, pointing at the sea of dirt and bones all around.