Kurai and Gaius sat cross-legged in deep meditation, their measured breaths the only calm in a scene spattered with fresh gore. A full day had passed since leaving John's settlement to head north, hoping to follow the river where they'd lost their companions. Instead, they found only dense foliage and creeping webs.

  All around them, dog-sized spiders with their trademark sinewy, black bodies lurked in the undergrowth. Kurai sensed them through his new space sight, while Gaius made do with a single arm, fierce discipline, and a resolute spirit.

  Their search for answers about their missing friends had borne no leads. Yet not all was lost: the endless waves of spiders with both low and high density of Aether, provided an ample amount of the potent energy and points. They were cautious still—swarm attacks could overwhelm even Kurai's growing abilities—but neither man was the same fighter he'd been days before.

  Kurai, guided by his Aether Manual, continued to consolidate his core after every battle. Its bronze glow grew incrementally brighter each time, fueling the spatial sense that let him pierce the darkness of the jungle. Gaius, meanwhile, fought hard to raise his own Aether levels, though he had yet to form a core. His skill with the sword remained impressive, especially given the handicap of his missing arm. Kurai was quietly astonished at how swiftly Gaius adapted, economizing each movement until there was no wasted effort.

  The night, however, brought no relief. Legions of spiders beset them, driving them back along the path they had covered. By morning, they'd lost ground and were forced to rest, bloodied and wearied from combat. Gaius's ability to see in the dim light was limited, leaving Kurai to do much of the heavy lifting.

  Now, at dawn's hesitant glow, the two men finally found a moment for meditation. Gaius practiced the centering exercises Kurai had shown him—simple techniques meant to help with focus and control of oneself. Kurai had hoped it would be of help in his Aether Control, which according to Gaius seemed to be the case. Meanwhile, Kurai himself focused on refining his blossoming core, guiding incoming Aether so it consolidated into one stable point.

  At length, Kurai broke the silence. "We need to change course," he said. "I'm nearly certain these spiders have some main nest farther north. If we push on, we risk running into a spider version of those winged abominations."

  Gaius nodded, shoulders sagging in reluctant agreement. "You're probably right. But which way then?"

  Kurai stilled, running through what few facts they had. "This Sefu is supposedly out west, though we've no clue what kind of man he is—or if finding him will bring more trouble than it's worth. East, though, is a complete unknown. Either way, we gamble."

  Gaius mulled this over. "I say east. I find people are usually more unreasonable than beasts at times. And from what we gathered of Johns' people, the river east is where we drifted. The others might've taken that route."

  Kurai inclined his head. "East it is, then."

  Rising to their feet, they prepared once more to face the jungle's wrath.

  ***

  The jungle had grown denser again, swallowing Kurai and Gaius in a veil of shadow and tangled undergrowth. Their movements were deliberate, every step measured against the damp earth, every breath taken with caution. They were moving east, away from the spider-infested hunting grounds, in search of the river or so they thought.

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  Then they saw it.

  A macabre sprawl of spider corpses littered the ground before them—dozens, perhaps more, their blackened exoskeletons split open as though flayed from within. The scene was eerily still, no scavengers feasting upon the remains, no signs of struggle. Only the lingering stench of death and something else… something unnatural.

  Kurai stopped abruptly, his grip tightening on his naginata. Gaius stepped beside him, gaze sweeping the carnage. His single hand flexed around the hilt of his crude sword, instinct prickling at the edges of his awareness.

  "This feels eerily similar to the one before…" Gaius muttered.

  Kurai turned his blindfolded gaze toward him, sensing the tension in his stance. "What do you mean? You've seen something like this?"

  Gaius exhaled, frowning. "Before we met you, we found humans. Well, not quite." He hesitated, searching for the right words. "They were humanoid, but… in between. As if they had stopped in the process of becoming those things you described, and like the one we witnessed at the scene."

  Kurai's jaw tightened. "Like they were half-transformed?"

  "Exactly. Not fully… changed. Their skin was warped, parts of their limbs fused like they were mutating into something else. Their eyes were still human, but the rest… wasn't." Gaius shook his head. "We didn't stick around to study them. We moved quickly when we saw that humanoid creature."

  Kurai's mind churned. The humanoids he had fought before—twisted and grotesque—had seemed like finished products of some horrific transformation. But this… something in between? That meant there was a process, a progression.

  And now these spiders, their bodies opened as if something had erupted from them.

  "Hmm… Could it have something to do with how they're all so similar despite being different species?" Kurai mused, his voice low.

  "Perhaps…" Gaius agreed. But their knowledge of anatomy was close to nothing, and without proper understanding of these creatures' biology, all they had were suspicions. And Kurai's sight—his strange space sense—could not distinguish colors or intricate details that might have shed more light on the matter.

  Kurai exhaled sharply. "We could bring one with us. Show it to Mira. There seems to a lot of knowledge in their time, more than in mine at least. She might recognize something we don't."

  Gaius gave him a sideways glance before chuckling. "Good idea. But, uh… who's carrying it?"

  Silence.

  Kurai sighed, already regretting his suggestion. He knelt, breaking off broad jungle leaves and gathering fibrous vines from nearby branches. He wrapped the remains tightly, securing them into a makeshift sling.

  "This should do for now." He slung the grotesque bundle over his back, ignoring the way the sudden bumps to his back made his skin crawl.

  They pressed forward, the scent of rot clinging to them as they wove through the jungle.

  The deeper they went, the more they encountered. Making them question their choice east.

  Swarms of spiders burst from the undergrowth in erratic ambushes, forcing them into relentless combat. Kurai's naginata sliced through their ranks. He had recently picked up on coating his weapon in Aether, doing what he had done previously for his shoulder, but with different purpose and intent. His progression in control—courtesy to his talent and the Aether core—he realized that there was a lot of intricacies to Aether, all kinds of avenues to explore.

  So his enhanced strikes tore through chitin and flesh alike. Gaius moved beside him taking down the weakest of the spiders, his one arm working tirelessly, his blade flashing as he adapted to the rhythm of battle.

  Some of the spiders, Kurai yet again experienced, gave barely any Aether. Even the ones that previously put up a bit of resistance seemed lackluster now.

  But he felt something stronger approaching. Not quite like the winged horrors they had lost against previously, but of similar quality.

  Kurai felt the density of its' Aether moments before it struck, his senses flaring in warning. Its' movements were faster, more deliberate and the spider was way larger then the rest. At least five times the size, matching their own height. The similar pressure he himself exuded was also coming of the beast. This beast has a core, he realized with some surprise.

  Gaius, catching sight of the massive spider, smirked as he effortlessly decapitated a smaller one with a swift stroke of his blade. "I'll be leaving that one to you, Kurai!" he called, his voice laced with amusement.

  But Kurai paid his words no mind.

  His entire focus was locked onto the creature before him, and despite the weight of exhaustion in his limbs, a thrill coursed through him. The density of its aether was unlike the weaker creatures they had cut down on their journey. He couldn't pinpoint its exact strength, but it lacked the overwhelming presence of the winged horrors from before. It didn't radiate that same raw peril—yet something about it felt significant.

  The aether it exuded was… refined.

  Not in sheer quantity, but in quality—as if distilled, purer than the chaotic swirls he had absorbed from lesser beasts. That realization stirred something in him. The Aether Manual had guided him to forming his core, pushing him into what it called the Bronze Stage, yet it offered no clear roadmap beyond that, simply to continue refining it within his core..

  But Kurai understood.

  There were levels within levels, hidden depths even the manual had not spelled out. Those flying abominations—monstrous as they were—hadn't embodied the full potential he now glimpsed. The image of power, of what he could become, had not yet taken its final shape in his mind.

  And so, standing before this formidable opponent, he knew one thing with certainty.

  This time, he wouldn't run.