Ren is lucky. At least, that's what he tells himself.
Not encountering another Carapace Scavenger on his way was a blessing in this unforgiving land.
He tried to build a rough map in his mind, the winding paths through the deep crimson coral maze.
But everything quickly became a tangled mess.
It was all red... strangely beautiful, yet filled with a deadly aura.
A sophisticated visual trap of nature and nightmare.
Ren carefully maneuvered through narrow passages blocked by jagged rocks, stepping deeper into the domain of the Iron Spiders.
He was certain of that.
Steel thread webs were strung high, coated with dust and old remnants.
The ground was damp and cold, but less muddy. Higher up.
Ren was climbing. Heading toward massive stone peaks, like spears piercing the red sea, standing tall amidst the coral ocean.
And then... Ren regretted it.
A cold shiver ran down his spine as he realized he had gone too deep... into the heart of the Iron Spider's lair.
White cocoons dangled above, trembling lightly every time the sea breeze howled past.
A few made weak rustling sounds... like cries choked in a death shroud.
Worse, there was no way back.
The steel threads, so thin they were nearly invisible, crisscrossed the space like a madman's net.
Touch them, and they would slash through skin like surgical knives.
One wrong step... and blood would spill.
Ren clenched his fists, forcing himself to move forward, because standing still, here, meant death.
Time waits for no one.
Ren had already spent too much time trying to navigate the maze, dodging shadows, listening for strange noises echoing from the depths.
And now, when he looked up...
The sky had turned from dull gray to a dangerous dark.
Night was falling.
The roar of the Black Sea echoed like the call of death.
It urged Ren to keep moving. No stopping. No hesitating.
The tide was rising.
Just a few minutes left... before the entire coral maze would be submerged in darkness and saltwater.
Ren tightened the strap of his seaweed bag, slipping through the nearly invisible steel threads.
He couldn't run. Couldn't jump.
All he could do was move like a prisoner in chains, each step costing time and blood if careless.
The roar of the sea grew closer.
Each gentle tremor passed through the damp ground beneath his feet, signaling the massive tide that was about to sweep everything away.
One mistake... and he'd be hanging upside down from the stone ceiling, torn apart by the spiders, or swept away by the waves like an unknown corpse.
Ren gritted his teeth, his eyes scanning for a hiding place, anywhere that was high enough to avoid the first wave.
But this place wasn't meant for life.
No rock crevices. No seaweed patches. Just spider webs and trembling cocoons hanging in the air.
And then... his eyes stopped. A cocoon unfinished.
A small gap, just enough for one person.
Ren clenched his fist, then began to climb...
Ren had no other choice.
The roar of the Black Sea echoed behind him like an apocalyptic warning.
He lunged toward the cocoon, an old one, left behind, torn at the bottom, with only the outer shell made of hardened iron silk.
Without thinking, Ren used his chitin knife to slit the edge, sticking his head inside.
The musty, pungent smell of decay and faint rotten flesh hit him in the face, nearly making him gag.
The space inside was cramped, just enough for one person to curl up.
Ren pulled the cocoon shell shut, trying to cover the gap with the seaweed and mud he had carried. He forced himself to stay still, to breathe quietly.
A cocoon among dozens of others. A corpse among countless corpses.
All he could do was hope... the spiders wouldn't notice each one.
And the Black Sea... would spare this body.
The first cold droplets of water began to seep through the rock cracks, entering the musty cocoon where Ren hid.
Then they became a steady flow, not frantic, not raging, but calm and certain, like a death shroud slowly descending.
The Black Sea was rising.
Ren held his breath as he felt the cold, salty water rising beneath the stone floor.
Although it was still rising, it seemed unlikely to reach this spot, where the Iron Spiders had placed their cocoons.
Even so, he felt the sea swallowing his mind.
Everything outside blurred into the pale grayness like fog at the ocean's depths.
The familiar darkness returned to where it belonged, vision once again reduced to nothing.
He felt the threads connecting to the cocoon tremble... No, not from the waves, but from something else.
Movement. A faint rustling echoed somewhere near the outside, like the tiny feet of dozens of spiders skittering across the stone.
They were moving.
Hunting.
He wasn't sure if they had caught his scent, but at that moment, the greater fear than the spiders was the Black Sea.
Ren shuddered.
Not from the cold. But because something was moving... inside.
At first, just a tingling sensation on his back and shoulders.
Then it spread, becoming a light, persistent scratching. Ren tried not to move, tried to remain silent.
But then he felt them, small movements, as subtle as the wind slipping through the sand, slowly crawling up his spine.
The baby spiders.
They didn't come from the outside.
They had been inside from the start.
A cocoon torn, not by the tide or time. But because its host had struggled to death when eaten alive from the inside. And now, Ren, the late parasite, was inheriting that very position.
One, then two... Ren felt the delicate, needle-like legs clinging to his skin, slipping between the cracks of his makeshift chitin armor.
Something cold and soft like velvet pressed against his neck.
He stifled a gasp.
He couldn't go outside. Outside were the massive Iron Spiders silently patrolling, like wardens of a living prison.
One sudden movement, one small sound... they would tear the cocoon open and drag him out like an undercooked meal.
In the thick darkness, the tiny spider legs continued to move. One was trying to squeeze beneath his shoulder armor.
Another was crawling through the gap in his side armor.
Ren gritted his teeth. Perhaps... not all the spiderlings had hatched. He could feel a few cold egg sacs stuck to the walls of the cocoon.
If he set a fire, he could kill all the parasites, but that would also draw the attention of the larger spiders.
No noise. No dying in silence.
But then, he stopped. A dark plan began to hatch in his mind.
He didn't squirm or move, but lay still, like a corpse whose heart still beats, whose blood still flows.
And then it came…
A searing pain, as though his bones were being burned from the inside out.
The spiderlings crawled over Ren like an underground wave, silent, without warning. Quiet. But brutal.
Dozens of tiny legs swept across his skin, black, rigid tentacles like iron. Then the jagged teeth began to sink in.
No screeching. No screaming.
Just the sound of quiet gnawing, like metal scraping across soft cartilage.
They fed. Piece by piece. Slowly. Patiently.
As though savoring a bloody feast prepared long ago.
Ren clenched his teeth until they bled. The pain washed over him like a wave of fire licking his nerves. Each time they bit, it was like a cut into his sanity.
A whisper of madness.
"That's right… eat… I'm your last meal."
A crazy thought, raspy in his mind like a dry, hollow laugh.
Then, a shift.
One froze mid-crawl, its legs spasming. Then another. Then three. Then ten.
They fell off Ren's skin like ash swept by a cold wind.
No sound. No resistance.
Just... death.
A silent death, as if something had been squeezed out from the inside.
Ren lay still, cold sweat soaking through his rough chitin armor.
A twisted, almost deranged smile spread across Ren's pale face. Blood dripped from the bite marks, but he kept his teeth clenched, holding himself steady amidst the pain, like claws scraping from hell.
A faint inscription flickered in his mind:
Attribute: [Crimson Rot]
Description: He thirsts to be cleansed… yet bathes himself in the blood of an ancient despair. Death denies him, leaving only a wound that will never heal, a curse that gnaws from within.
He exhaled softly, almost laughing.
What had nearly killed him… now saved him.
Ren recalled the first nightmare, the insane moment when he submerged himself in the thick blood of a dead Sad Basilisk. At that time, he hadn't sought power.
He was just a Sleeper wanting to end it all.
But the Dream Realm doesn't let anyone die easily. It granted him a twisted gift.
A poisonous reward for his madness.
Ren's blood, now a venom. Corrosive. Contaminated. Deadly.