Just as Kurai sized up the spider, it, too, was doing the same. A silent understanding of wariness passed between them—two predators of equal standing, testing the other's intent.

  Gaius, having dispatched one of the lesser spiders, backed away. He was no fool; this was a battle beyond his capacity. He knew that if he lingered, he would only be a liability.

  Kurai, meanwhile, deliberated carefully. This was unlike any opponent he had fought before. A creature such as this, with a physiology alien to his experience, required a different approach. What stance would be most effective? What were its strengths? He could make some educated guesses, but true understanding would only come in battle.

  He half-expected the spider to lunge at any moment, but instead, it crept backward into the undergrowth. Gaius' eyes widened. At first, he could still make out its dark form between the thick foliage, albeit not clearly. But in the next breath, it was gone. Not in the way a creature slinks into the shadows—no, this was different. It was as though the spider had melted into them.

  Kurai's frown deepened. He couldn't see it with his eyes, but even through his space vision, it had vanished entirely, as if submerged into the very ground itself. And then—a sudden shift. His senses screamed at him.

  Behind!

  Without hesitation, he released his spatial vision and poured everything into his legs. The world blurred as he propelled himself forward with all the might his Aether-infused body could muster. Even with his heightened physique, he felt as if his muscles might tear from the sheer force. Something barely grazed his foot.

  Too close.

  He landed, skidding to a halt, immediately activating his vision again—only to find the spider already upon him. This time, he couldn't dodge in time. Reacting on instinct, he twisted his body, sliding smoothly to the side. The spider's leg sliced across his shoulder, leaving a deep wound that burned with pain.

  Kurai didn't flinch.

  Instead, he retaliated. His naginata cut low, aiming to sever the beast's hind legs. The sharpened steel flashed, inches from its target—only for the spider to vanish once again, reappearing several steps away.

  A deep frown etched itself onto Kurai's face.

  This wasn't just speed. It simply vanished and reappeared.

  His mind whirled as he analyzed the battle. The spider had to be using an Aether ability, just like him. That much was clear. But the mechanics of it…

  Then Gaius' voice rang out from a safe distance.

  "It's using the shadows, Kurai! It seems to be jumping through them!"

  Shadows…

  Kurai's jaw tightened as realization dawned. That must be its affinity.

  But the knowledge didn't offer much immediate advantage. He couldn't see shadows. His space vision relied on sensing presence, not light and darkness. Worse still, the jungle's thick canopy ensured that shadows were everywhere. There was no predicting where the spider might strike next.

  Still… He could make some assumptions.

  The spider, emboldened by its first successful hit, did not hesitate. It moved again, vanishing into the darkness—intent on ending its prey with a decisive strike.

  Kurai, however, was waiting for it.

  The instant the spider emerged behind him, Kurai pivoted sharply, swinging his naginata in a wide arc. The blade met flesh, slicing a deep wound across the creature's upper head.

  A screech of anger tore through the jungle.

  Kurai stepped back, his breathing controlled, his blade dripping with thick, black blood. Predictable.

  Despite its heightened intelligence and combat ability, the spider still fought with an animalistic simplicity. It was using a superior technique—but it relied on the same attack pattern, completely negating all its other natural strengths.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

  He adjusted his grip on the naginata, shifting his hands further up the shaft. Many had underestimated the effectiveness of a polearm in close quarters. They assumed its length made it cumbersome, unwieldy at close range. They were right to some sense, it couldn't measure to the nimbleness of a katana in close proximity, but it was far from useless. That assumption had cost them dearly. With his Aether-infused body, he had already begun to negate the disadvantages of reach.

  The spider screeched again—a sound of rage rather than pain. And then, like a flute playing the same familiar note, it disappeared into the shadows once more.

  Kurai didn't need to see it.

  This time, he was ready.

  The moment it reappeared, Kurai stepped smoothly aside, evading its strike. His grip tightened, and with fluid precision, he swung the naginata in a swift, controlled arc. The blade severed one of the spider's legs at the joint.

  A shriek of agony split the air.

  The creature stumbled, instinctively trying to retreat into the shadows again—but the pain had disrupted its focus. It faltered.

  Kurai did not waste the opportunity.

  With a practiced motion, he extended his grip, restoring the full reach of his weapon. His naginata surged forward, aiming for the creature's exposed head.

  The spider, though disoriented, was still driven by primal survival. At the last possible moment, it forced its weight backward, shifting onto its hind legs. Kurai's strike missed its head by mere inches—but it left a deep gash below its neck, black ichor spilling freely onto the forest floor.

  Still, it wasn't dead.

  The spider staggered, injured but unwilling to surrender.

  Kurai narrowed his sightless gaze. It's weakening.

  This wasn't a fight of brute force. It was a test of precision, of endurance. The creature had a powerful ability—but it was reckless, predictable. It expected its prey to panic, to be overwhelmed by its unnatural movements.

  Kurai was neither.

  He exhaled, steadying himself. Time to end this.

  The spider twitched, then lunged forward again—this time, without vanishing. It was getting desperate.

  Kurai met its charge head-on.

  He angled his naginata low, letting the spider commit to the attack. At the last moment, he made a forcefull push backwards—just enough to let the creature's momentum carry it forward, after him.

  Then, with ruthless efficiency, he drove the blade straight through its open mandibles, impaling its head.

  A violent shudder wracked its body. For a heartbeat, the spider spasmed, legs clawing feebly at the air.

  Then, it went still.

  The jungle fell silent, broken again by the familar sound of the voice in his head, which Kurai usually muted out, but this time he expected to see some difference:

  "You have absorbed another creature's Aether. You have grown stronger. 60 points have been allocated."

  Kurai let out a slow breath, pulling his naginata free with a slick, wet sound. Black blood pooled beneath the slain creature, its once-predatory form now lifeless.

  From a safe distance, Gaius let out a low whistle. "Well. That was… something."

  Kurai barely heard him. His focus was elsewhere—on the sensation spreading through his body.

  The Aether.

  It poured into him from the slain beast, heavier than before. Denser. Richer. He could feel it saturating his core, filling every fiber of his being with renewed strength. This… this was different from his previous battles.

  The spider's Aether was.. Purer. He needed to make the most of it. He sat crossed legged and imediately went to focus on directing all the Aether to his core. Muttering to Gaius: "Keep watch. It won't take long…" he muttered to Gaius, already sinking into deep concentration. He barely registered the gladiator's response. His entire being was consumed by the raw influx of energy coursing through him.

  Over the past few days, he had gathered a considerable amount of Aether. Now, with this latest surge, he could feel himself reaching the threshold of something greater.

  With methodical precision, he began compressing the Aether within his core, pressing the swirling energy inward, layer by layer. The familiar resistance was there, a stubborn tension that threatened to push back against his efforts. But he had done this before. He knew what came next.

  He forced the Aether together, forging it tighter, denser—until, at last, something gave. A subtle but unmistakable snap reverberated within him, like a tether breaking loose.

  A shift.

  His breath hitched. Everything felt… sharper. The particles of Aether within him held greater weight now, their energy more potent, more refined. A qualitative leap, not just in strength, but in essence.

  Another stage.

  Slowly, he exhaled, letting the sensation settle before extending his Aether outward. His space sense flared to life—but this time, it felt different.

  It came more naturally, flowing outward without as much strain or effort, the clarity sharper than before. Every shape, every movement within his range painted itself in vivid detail within his mind. And yet… there was something else.

  A whisper of something unseen, just beyond the edges of perception.

  It wasn't a visual awareness, nor was it sound. It was something more primal, deeper, like an absence.

  His brows furrowed. What is this?

  He reached for it instinctively, but the moment his focus shifted, the sensation slipped away—like trying to grasp mist between his fingers.

  His core pulsed, steady and strong, but no further revelation came.

  Not yet.

  Filing the sensation away for later, he retracted his Aether, grounding himself back in the moment. His eyes opened, the jungle's damp air filling his lungs as his awareness returned to the physical world.

  Standing nearby, Gaius gave him a scrutinizing look. "Done?"

  "Yes," he exhaled, a small smile adorning his face.