The battlefield around me is a wasteland of charred chitin and twitching limbs.

  Hundreds of spider-things lie scattered in grotesque heaps across the branches—some split open by claws, some crushed into paste, others burned into curling husks still smoking from the inside. Strands of silk dangle like dying nerves, swaying in the updraft.

  And all of it burns.

  Fire crawls greedily along the webbed highways I tore through, crackling up into the canopy in roaring sheets. The smoke hangs thick as soup, stinging my six eyes and clawing at my throat every time I breathe.

  I cough—once, twice—thick and phlegmy.

  “Ugh. Smoked spider. Probably tastes like shit.”

  Another breath sears painfully down my lungs. The heat rising from below is turning the whole vertical jungle into an oven.

  But the tree itself—this colossal world-pillar—doesn’t burn. The bark drinks in the flame like rainwater, ember-glow sliding harmlessly across its surface. Anti-flame properties. Handy. Inconvenient for arson.

  “Well,” I rasp, “standing here is a bad idea.”

  With a grunt, I crouch, legs coiling.

  Then I leap.

  Upward. Through the thick smoke. Past burning webs that snap and shrivel as I graze them. Each landing is a cough and a wobble, each jump launching me through air so hot it tastes metallic.

  Minutes pass in a blur of flame and motion. My fur singes at the tips, but regeneration keeps me moving, patching lungs that are definitely not enjoying the experience.

  Eventually, I break into the cloud layer.

  Moisture slams into me like a damp towel, and instantly the world shifts—the fire behind me hisses into steam, sputtering out in billowing drifts. The air becomes heavy and wet, carrying a strange sweetness. My breaths come easier, though dripping with humidity.

  The webs here change.

  Thicker. Rope-thick. Pulled tight with geometric precision, like the architecture of an alien god. Fewer strands, but each one dense enough to walk on. And the resin—gods, the resin—it gleams like polished bone, rigid as steel, strangely warm beneath my paws.

  As I climb beyond the clouds, the canopy ends abruptly and the world opens up.

  The peak of the tree is a plateau of woven architecture, crowned by a single structure dwarfing everything I've seen below—a cocoon of colossal size, easily as large as a small village. Its outer shell is a mosaic of reinforced resin plates fused together with artful, organic symmetry. Every thread is purposeful. Every line is deliberate.

  I land lightly on its surface and feel the difference instantly—the sticky sap is gone. What remains is a hardened mesh textured like reptile scale and iron mesh woven together.

  The air here is still. Quiet. Expectant.

  I circle the dome until I find the opening: a dark maw, wide enough for an elephant to walk through. The edges show signs of recent disturbance—resin scraped, strands broken, footprints pressed into the surface by something .

  I inhale once more, savoring the last breath of clean air I’ll probably get for a while.

  “Welp,” I mutter, rolling my shoulders, “time to see what Boss I’m supposed to kill.”

  And with all the dignity of a monster drenched in spider guts and singed fur, I step into the cocoon.

  ______________________________________________________

  “Seems a little empty,” I mutter as I pad through the resin-woven corridors of the cocoon. The passageways twist like arteries inside some monstrous organ, with narrow side tunnels branching off in irregular angles. I ignore those and follow the widest path until the space opens into a cavern so vast it feels hollowed out by a titan’s claw. At its center, like a bizarre monument, stands the dark-metal tower, unsettlingly pristine compared to the organic chamber housing it. At the base, a single entrance waits. One entrance, one keyhole, no key in sight… at least not until I look up.

  Suspended from the ceiling is a creature large enough to shame most ships: a spider the size of a battleship, clinging to the resin dome with hundreds of perfectly synchronized legs. Its immense body sways with a quiet predatory rhythm, mandibles flexing in a slow, patient grind. Embedded into its carapace—absurdly small on a creature so massive—is a metal key jutting from its face like a misplaced wart. “And there’s the key,” I sigh. “Now I just have to crack your skull without dying. Easy Enough.”

  I lower myself into a stance, fully intending to strike before it moves, but the boss opts to complicate my life immediately. With a thunderous drop that makes the entire cocoon tremble, it slams onto the ground and rears up. A torrent of webbing erupts from its maw—a thick, rope-like spray that blasts upward, then rains back down as the creature thrashes violently, cocooning itself in layer after layer. By the time the frenzy stops, its already thick exoskeleton has been reinforced by more than a foot of hardened resin and webbing.

  “Oh, perfect,” I groan. “A boss that armors up before the fight even starts.” The creature tilts its head toward me with unmistakable intelligence, then charges. Not slowly. Not lumbering. It launches forward like a runaway siege engine, each step sending tremors through the resin floor. I leap aside, covering dozens of meters in seconds, but the monster skids, pivots, and charges again—faster now, adapting to my movements.

  “Fast, aren’t you,” I mutter, annoyed. “I hate when the giant ones are fast.”

  Another hop, another instant turn from the creature. Fine. Time to test its skull. I gather mana, muscles crackling as power fills my limbs. The beast closes the distance, jaws parted for a killing blow. Just before impact, I Flashstep, burning a painful amount of mana, and reappear beside its head with my fist already in motion. The punch connects—and detonates. The explosion slams the creature’s head into the ground with enough force to crater the resin floor. Its body skids forward, grinding a gouge before friction finally stops it.

  For a heartbeat, I dare to think I’ve won. Then the legs twitch. The head rises. My strike has left only shallow fractures in the resin coating. Beneath that, the web armor remains intact. It absorbed the worst of the blow.

  The spider raises a massive pincer toward the cracked area and excretes a spray of fresh resin, sealing the damage in seconds. “What kind of monster repairs its armor?” I bark. But it gives no answer, only lowers into another charge.

  I ready myself again, this time pouring even more mana into my limbs. It rushes, furious and faster than before. I Flashstep—again draining a painful chunk of my reserve—and swing a massive punch. But this time the beast is ready. As I reappear at its flank, its eye is already watching. It jerks its head away mid-swing. My attack explodes against the side of its carapace instead of drilling into a vulnerable gap. The blast throws both of us apart like rag dolls. I crash, bouncing hard enough to bruise bone. Before I fully land, a pincer sweeps toward me, the sheer force behind it enough to turn someone softer into a smear. I bring up my gauntlet just in time. The impact sends me flying across the cavern, muscles screaming as I tumble across the resin.

  When I skid to a halt, the boss is already charging again, pincer raised to carve me apart. I Flashstep a third time—almost draining myself dry—to the far end of the chamber. My chest heaves as I steady myself. That hurt. Even with my regeneration, my muscles throb from the force. The creature turns toward me, confused for only a moment, then fixes me with its predatory gaze, resin armor gleaming as it prepares to reinforce itself again.

  Of all the bosses I’ve fought, this thing is incredibly troublesome. It’s fast. Durable. Smarter than any monster its size has a right to be. Even my Wyvern form might struggle. I may actually need to blow off my arm again… except—

  I watch as the spider begins to coat its cracked armor in fresh resin, just like before. If I can somehow burn off that armor…

  And then I remember.

  I have explosive spit!

  I take a slow, steadying breath, focusing on the pressure in my chest. I flex muscles I’ve never used intentionally and feel the liquid shift within glands When the spider lowers itself for another charge, I brace, crouch, and wait.

  It rushes. I leap straight upward, opening my jaws wide. The boss tilts its head up, tracking me with single-minded focus.

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  Then I squeeze the glands.

  A stream of glowing violet liquid jets from my mouth like a pressurized cannon blast. It splashes across the monster’s reinforced skull—a perfect hit.

  For an instant, nothing happens.

  Then the resin begins to fizz.

  Then to

  Then to violently bright.

  And that’s when a very tiny, very important thought surfaces:

  …I never asked Veynor how potent this stuff is when it’s not diluted.

  __________________________________________

  I react immediately by raising my arms up to protect my head, only to be met with human hands and skin. I blink and look around, finding the white room in all its boring glory.

  “Oh… well then.” I lower my arms. “It seems like that explosion was quite potent.”

  I glance again, finding Green floating silently a meter away.

  “Considering I’m here, the boss died and I leveled.” I pause for a moment. “Also, the blast was strong enough to knock me out.”

  Green blinks silently.

  I pout. “Silent as usual I see. Fine, how many levels have I gained?”

  “You have gained three levels. You have six attributes available.”

  “Wait, really? Three?” I frown. Was the boss really that strong? Or did I gain a level earlier and get two from the boss? I mean, I did fight a swarm for an hour straight.

  “Show me my stats page.”

  “Acknowledged.”

  Skills Obtained: 4

  Souls Possessed: 4

  Fleshgraft: 4

  Reading through all the changes, my eyes fall on the bottom section labeled grafts. Just from a glance, it occurs to me that the grafts are quite costly, especially the skill one. If I’d not had Mana-fur, most if not all of these would be rather impossible. Honestly, I could have probably asked for more modifications considering my current regeneration. Then again, [Flashstep] is mana hungry and having a strong bit of mana regeneration is going to be very useful in extended fights. On top of that, it keeps open the possibility of powerful equipment, especially since I can now wield equipment.

  “Well green, everything looks good. Put all of my points into Strength and then wake me up.”

  “Acknowledged.”