Day Five. Mid-Morning.

Worca has cast summon giant stygian spider.

My mouth dropped open in shock. Bloody hell, what now? Images of the spider Saben had transformed into flashed through my mind.

I can’t face something like that, Not on my own.

Heart in mouth, I watched the emerging shape. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Worca with her hands on her knees and gasping for breath. Whatever she had summoned, it had taken a lot out of her.

Two spindly legs appeared in the luminous slit of light hanging open mid-air in the chamber. It was quickly followed by six more.

A spider scuttled out.

The creature’s form wavered in the air, indistinct and blurry. A dark miasma surrounded it, one that even my night vision had difficulty piercing. The little that I could see of the spider led me to believe it was covered in midnight black chiton.

But as scary as my latest foe’s appearance was, at only three feet tall, it was small—at least as giant spiders went. The breath whooshed out of me in relief.

That doesn’t look so bad.

Reaching out with my will, I analyzed the summoned creature.

The target is a level 51 giant stygian spider.

Contrary to conventional belief, the nether is not empty. The black void houses entities that, over time, have evolved to thrive in its depths. The stygian beasts are one such family of beings. The stygian spider is neither the largest nor most feared of its kind, but against foes from the physical realms, unprepared for its unique nature, it invariably provides a fatal challenge.

The Game’s response was certainly ominous-sounding, but there was nothing that couldn’t be killed. Bloodied blades in hand, I rushed forward to put an end to the spider. The creature scuttled forward, just as eager to meet me.

Raising a foreleg, the spider lashed out at me. I sidestepped the blow easily, noting in passing that it was slower than me. Lunging forward, I launched my own counterattack.

Both my swords sailed unopposed past the creature’s guard. My eyes gleamed, imagining the moment of impact.

I struck.

My blades cut through the creature’s chitin shell as if it wasn’t there. My eyes widened.

There had been no impact.

It felt as if I’d hit nothing but air.

A level 51 giant stygian spider is immune to physical damage! You have failed to injure your target.

What the—? Balance momentarily lost at the lack of contact, I stumbled forward and through the stygian spider’s body myself. There was no resistance or none of the type I’d expected. It felt as if I waded through a cloying ichor filled with gelatinous lumps. I emerged on the other end.

I was unharmed, but then so too was my foe.

Repressing a shiver at the strange sensation, I spun around. Two of the spider’s rear legs were whipping downwards to lash at me. Throwing my body into motion, I dodged the first, then parried the second.

I failed.

The end of the spider’s shadowy—and immaterial—limb passed unheedingly through my blade, leather armor, and left forearm. But where my sword and armor were undamaged by the contact, my flesh was not so fortunate.

You have failed to block a giant stygian spider’s attack. A giant stygian spider has injured you!

Gasping, I staggered backward, only then realizing the true nature of my foe. The spider had no true physical form, which meant I couldn’t damage it or even block its attacks. The creature, though, as it had just demonstrated, could hurt me.

Its attacks are magical in nature.

In the wake of the spider’s limb, the muscles and bone of my arm withered away. A necrotic attack of some sort?

I retreated further, clutching my suddenly weakened left arm to my body. The spider scuttled forward again. Turning about, I fled, using one-step to open the distance between us. I needed space to think.

A tired chuckle floated through the air. “You didn’t think killing my pet was going to be easy, did you?”

From a safe distance away, I spun about to face the elven mage. She was still encased in her shield, and even though some of the weariness had left her, she didn’t look fully recovered from her spellcasting.

“What is that thing?” I hissed, one wary eye on the spider while it resumed its advance on me.

“It’s a stygian spider from the depths of the abyss,” Worca said, seeming to have no compunctions about sharing the information. “They are the perfect counter to fighters such as yourself. You can’t hurt it.” She paused. “The reverse doesn’t apply, though,” the elf added drily if unnecessarily.

The spider was drawing close again, and I fled to the far end of the room.

The perfect counter to fighters? I wondered, a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. I didn’t want to take my foe’s word for it, but I had ample evidence already that it was immune to my attacks.

How am I going to kill it?

Other than my mind spells, I had no magic of my own. And the mind spells I did have? None of them dealt damage. Aargh.

My gaze flitted back to the elf. She seemed content to let the spider do the work, not even bothering to attack with her wands anymore.

Catching my glance, Worca added, almost conversationally, “My pet won’t stop. It will keep going, chasing you down until you’re dead.”

I guess that means it won’t be unsummoned anytime soon. There was only one thing left to try.

Worca’s assessment of me was mostly true, but she’d gotten one thing wrong: I wasn’t just a fighter. I was a mindstalker. And while I didn’t have many mind spells, I had one that had served me well time and again.

Keeping a careful eye on the spider to make sure it didn’t interfere, I cast charm. Tendrils of my will expanded outwards to Worca, slipping effortlessly through her shield and into her mind.

Where they were unceremoniously severed.

Worca is immune to tier 1 and 2 mental attacks! You have failed to charm your target. Your mental intrusion has been detected!

Really? I stifled a groan, not about to let the mage see my despair.

The elf’s laughter rang out again. “Did you think we would not prepare for you?” She languidly held out one hand for inspection as the spider hurried closer.

Forced to reposition again, I dashed across the room and closer to the mage. She seemed inclined to chat, and I saw no harm in listening to her. Because as much as I hated to admit it, I was out of ideas. Defeating Worca was looking more and more like it was beyond me.

“What are those?” I panted, studying the bejeweled fingers she held up.

“Rings of protection,” Worca replied easily. She pointed to the large violet jewel on one of her fingers. “This one is the most useful. It stops mental attacks.” The elf shook her head sadly. “I’m afraid you’re outclassed. Now, why don’t you surrender? It will please Ishita if I bring you to her on bended knees, perhaps enough so that she might even be merciful.”

“No,” I growled, not even needing to think about it.

Worca sighed. “Well then, I guess we are done talking. Time to die, human.” Lowering both her wands, the elf pointed them at the floor and barked out a word I didn’t understand.

Realizing I didn’t want to feel the effects of whatever spell she was about to cast, I one-stepped through the air and onto the nearby stone table.

Worca has cast stygian web.

Dark silken web strands appeared in the center of the chamber and expanded rapidly outwards to cover the entirety of the floor in a heaving mass of black silk.

This situation keeps getting better and better, I thought, eyeing the floor.

I was trapped on the table. If I stepped into the mess of webs, I was sure to be entangled. The stygian spider, though, was unaffected, gliding gracefully over the strands.

Worca’s ploy with her latest casting was clear. Stuck in the web, I wouldn’t be able to flee the creature whose only weakness seemed to be a lack of speed. I didn’t have much time remaining. The spider would be on me soon, and this time, I had nowhere to retreat.

My gaze flitted to the elf. Head down, she sagged against the wall. The second spell had drained her nearly as much as the first, but the gleaming black dome that protected her physical form looked as impervious as ever.

I couldn’t kill her. Not as quickly as I needed to, and with the webs on the floor, I wasn’t even certain I could get close to her.

There’s only one thing left to try.