The three spider broodlings paused, their multiple, glassy eyes swiveling to face Marrow Weaver and the priests.
The villagers, caught between two terrifying forces, froze in place, their sacks of sunstone ore dropping to the dusty ground before hurriedly dropping to their knees.
They had no idea who these new arrivals were but they're conscious enough that they were about to be caught in the middle of their clash. They're powerless against them, so they could only pray not to get hit accidentally.
One of the broodlings, the largest of the three, let out an aggressive, chittering hiss, the purplish foreign energy spreading from it.
It took a step forward with its scythe-like legs digging into the earth, seemingly ready for a challenge.
It recognized the newcomers as a threat, but its arrogance, born from months of unopposed dominance, made it reckless. Or rather, it never passed its mind, if it had any, that they're not invincible.
