The underground spiral was thick with the whispers of spirits, dancing in the shadows. Every hole was a trap, every web a death waiting to ensnare. Fitran swayed, his shoulders still slick with blood; Voidlight had lost its glow, but his eyes remained sharp, his mind searching for an escape from the hell of arachnids. "Do you feel fear, Tsuchigumo? How’s it going for a creature that thinks it’s above all else?" he asked, his voice muffled by the rage simmering within.
Tsuchigumo lurked in the darkness, his voice a low rumble like distant thunder, "How long has it been since you felt fear, Fitran? You are no deity in my domain. Here, your will becomes bait for a thousand feet of curse."
Fitran smirked cynically, wiping the blood from his lips with his index finger. "Fear? If I were afraid, I would have fled from this world thousands of years ago.” He embraced Voidlight, which gleamed with an energy thirsty for souls. "In this world, only the one who removes obstacles can carve out their existence." A flash of blazing desire crossed his face, as if challenging their prowess in the art of combat.
Tsuchigumo chuckled, “But you haven’t run away. You chose to fight, even knowing each step pulls you deeper into darkness. What are you chasing—your will? Or just an illusion that your name means something in this labyrinth of spirits?”
Fitran gritted his teeth against the pain, driving the Voidlight into the ground with a force that sent vibrations through the earth. Dark blue light streamed from the edge of his weapon, sweeping across the ground. “I don’t need a name.” His voice was low yet firm. “I just need one more wound. One crack to burn your foundations from within.” He fixed the arachnid with a piercing gaze, calculating each of his next movements with strategic precision.
Tsuchigumo laughed, “Your final wound, Fate, will only weave more webs. Look around you!”
Hundreds of arachnid spiders leapt, engulfing Fitran’s body. Small fangs bit into him, venom coursing through his veins. The Voidlight was close to slipping from his grip. But Fitran clenched his jaw, summoning the remnants of his magic—Spiral Burn—a spiraling jet of black and blue that scorched half the colony, vaporizing several spiders into the air. “Do you think this is enough to stop me?” he shouted, his voice hoarse, as if challenging the creatures to fight harder.
Fitran, breathing heavily, said, “There’s too much noise here, Tsuchigumo. Your underground world is filled with putrid memories. But I know how to silence you.”
Tsuchigumo, dancing along the labyrinth walls, replied, “Memories are power. Every human who forgets, every lost hero, becomes my strength.”
“And they will become my weapons,” Fitran replied, cradling his wound, “Every soul you’ve captured in your web will be freed tonight. Or I will become the next curse myself. There’s nothing more enjoyable than bending fate to my will.”
Tsuchigumo slid down from above, her two front legs transforming into Curse Fang, fangs that erased the memories of anyone they touched. The attack nearly pierced Fitran’s chest—but he twisted away, deflecting with the remnants of his energy, the Voidlight redirecting the fangs toward the stone field. “You have no right to erase my memories,” Fitran shouted, igniting the rage within him. “I will remember the last face that challenged me.”
Tsuchigumo growled, “You’re stubborn, Fate!”
“My stubbornness will tear this world apart, Tsuchigumo,” Fitran replied with a twisted smile. “I’ve told you, I am not an easy victim. You’re merely a puppet in my game.”
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
The labyrinth began to crumble at several points—caught in the spiral waves of Fitran’s power, curses of the arachnid consuming each other. This ecosystem, woven with webs that entwined lost memories, was part of the fate he sought to change. Fitran raced down the narrow passage, pursued by dozens of magical spiders spinning Hex Web—the enchanted threads binding souls. “You’ll be trapped in an ogre full of memories,” he shouted, “But I will be the fortunate villain.”
Fitran screamed, “You think physical traps can hold back my will? Let Him see just how far I can fight! Because I, after all, am the mistake of this world, and I will rewrite our story.”
Tsuchigumo emerged from the wall, “You forget, Fate. In the underworld, I am not just a king, but a deity of nightmares. Are you ready to lose everything for one futile victory?”
Fitran, with a sardonic smile, replied, “Loss? Only those who don’t understand the essence of Voidlight truly fear loss. Every move you make, every web you weave, is just a step towards your own demise.”
Tsuchigumo melded with the ground, his body swelling, the entire field trembled—Tsuchigumo Grand Web, the ultimate technique: the entire maze transformed into a massive web of curses, ready to engulf Fitran in a single motion. “This web marks the end of all hope, Fate. Don’t expect there to be a way out.”
Tsuchigumo’s voice echoed through the field, "You are alone, Fate. No one will remember you in my underworld.”
Fitran, his body weary but his brow raised, shot back, “That’s a foolish idea, Tsuchigumo. Memories are the strongest weapon. Are you sure you can bury all those you have defeated?”
The threads of the web ensnared him, as the arachnid charged in from all directions; the pressure of the field forced Fitran to his knees. The Voidlight flickered like a dying star, its dark beams writhing through the layers of the web, signaling that his spiritual strength was deeply intertwined with every soul trapped in the underworld. Fitran gasped for breath, his eyelids heavy, “I am the master of Voidlight. With each breath I take, I can turn this fate around.”
Tsuchigumo whispered close to his ear, “Surrender. Release your name. Let me preserve it in a museum of curses.”
Fitran’s voice, hoarse yet sharp as a dagger, countered, “If I surrender, I cease to be Fitran Fate. I would fall under your control, and that would be the worst fate for you.”
Tsuchigumo, furious, spat, “You are a stubborn creature. But stubbornness doesn’t save anyone in this world of shadows.”
Fitran felt the webs brush against his skin, the spirits whispering in his ears—a symphony of loss, a yearning for death, all swirling together into a vortex. “Do you think this will end with your death?” he said, his voice calm yet laced with threat. “No, this is just the beginning. The darkness will greet you like an old friend.”
But at the very last moment, just before losing consciousness, he gripped Voidlight tightly—its obsidian eyes glowed with hatred and a fierce will to survive, even as the world crumbled around him. The light of Voidlight trembled in his grasp, radiating waves of dark energy as if connected to every creature in the underworld. Each soul ensnared in the webs intensified that power, yearning for vengeance while the webs danced around him.
Tsuchigumo crawled closer, ready to deliver the final bite. “You’re really nothing more than bait, Fitran,” he said, his voice muffled but laced with conviction. “Why do you persist? You’ll only leave behind sorrow.”
Fitran smirked sarcastically, “Bait or predator, that’s a choice I’ve made for myself. In the end, this arachnid won’t even recognize which one I am.” He turned his gaze to the webs surrounding him, feeling the impact of the arachnid ecosystem that not only ensnared him but also empowered him. “They drain hope, pulling souls into the darkness. Just watch, Tsuchigumo. With every moment in your web, I grow stronger.”
Fitran was on the brink of collapsing, yet the small flame of his will still flickered—behind the dark spiral field, the voice of the world had yet to decide who would be buried and who would rise tonight. He felt the Voidlight embracing him, its power piercing through the layers of darkness that enveloped him. “Let yourself be ensnared, for every soul you claim bit by bit is merely a stepping stone toward my greater goal. Death will be the path, not the boundary,” he said with a low chuckle, delivering a tension that coiled tightly around his heart while igniting a flicker of hope within his wounded spirit.
