The Drider beneath the earth—her name was Ilthreza. As for her true surname, that had long been lost to time, for she had severed all ties with her bloodline.
Before her transformation into a Drider, this woman had already been a formidable mage, mastering spells up to the fifth circle.
Normally, in any race, when a spellcaster of such strength made a mistake, their deities of faith would expect atonement of some kind—not to be turned directly into a monster.
But, unfortunately, she was an elf; and elves are never in short supply when it comes to high-level spellcasters. Worse still, the deity she worshipped was the Demon Queen of Spiders herself—a fiend as cold, cruel, and mad as any in the Lower Planes, one who openly encouraged infighting among dark elves. It was her nature to waste even the best of her kin, driving them into monstrous insanity.
Thus, for nothing more than dabbling in forbidden lifeform experimentation and offending the Spider Queen, Ilthreza was transformed into a Drider. Yet she did not sink into despair; on the contrary, she exploited her mutated body to the fullest, teaching herself a complete arsenal of dual-wielding swordplay, poison arts, and the art of high-speed movement with spider-silk.
These techniques combined perfectly with her spells, making her all the more deadly. Her challenge rating was estimated as high as twelve—surpassing even Sophia, and almost a match for Theresa before her strengthening!
And that wasn't the end. After hiding in The Tide Caverns, she also studied Spells from the School of Necromancy, knowledge of beast-taming, and biology techniques, and built an army composed of Mutated Giant Spiders and undead, which is extremely difficult to deal with!
Charles did have great faith in Anno's capabilities—after all, she was a noble paladin, hailed as a member of the top-tiered Oath of Vengeance class. But even so, her level wasn't high. Even if she had mastered Aura of Protection, she lacked access to third-level spells; at best, she was at eighth level, and no match for this Drider.
Trouble was brewing...
As Charles considered the real threat lurking in the depths of that supposedly manageable mine, he couldn't help but worry for the girl. A moment later, he sighed quietly, "Let's hope she's got good fortune on her side; if things go wrong, I just hope she'll withdraw before it is too late."
"Andny, any further intel relating to the mountain folk, fiends, or our position?"
He asked, and the witch gently shook her head: "Nothing for now, Master. I'll keep searching; please rest for the night."
Unless there was tremendous expenditure of magic, witches actually didn't need sleep. Most of the time, they lay down to give Charles the illusion of sharing ordinary life—though truth be told, an 'ordinary' life rarely included such a vast harem...
Ahem. In any case, at such a crucial time, it was only natural for Andny to choose to forgo sleep and work through the night.
"Thank you. You're working hard," Charles replied.
He then closed his eyes, willing himself to relax and not let any of this throw off his pace or his plans.
But he couldn't sleep at all. Frowning, he opened his eyes again. "Andny, check once more—when did they leave?"
Andny blinked her large violet eyes, controlled her familiar worms, and peered through the network. "They accepted their commission a week ago. The exact day of departure is unclear, but what's certain: they haven't returned yet..."
At once, Charles drew a sharp breath.
This was bad. That girl—she was likely already caught by the spider fiend!
The thought left his mind in chaos; then, with an inward bite of resolve, he steadied himself.
No—Charles. Even if things have gone sideways, you mustn't lose your composure now!
Tomorrow, start by letting Nidalee contact her father and secure the matter of the purified Earth Dragon. Only then, seek out any further clues from him; if there's hope, assemble allies and mount a rescue for Anno!
So decided.
Having set his course, he stroked Andny's hair and murmured, "Thank you for your efforts." Only then did he again close his eyes, forcing himself to embrace sleep, weighed down with deep worry.
...
After breakfast, Andny reported some fresh intelligence about the mountain folk: in sum, several tribes had been on the move—perhaps a sign of a new alliance forming. Of these, one key tribe was the Mountaineers.
Charles had little insight into this, guessing the Archdruid was simply grasping at any chance to enlist allies against the pollution.
After his morning wash, he related his thoughts, last night's discoveries, and his plans to both Theresa and Nidalee. He also instructed Theresa, if her father proved supportive, to mention The Tide Caverns—the extermination of undead being a matter of maintaining the natural order, one any druidic Ilarode ought to support.
Nidalee, of course, agreed. After breakfast, she set off alone, transformed into a leopard, and slipped into the wild hills outside Rockseeker's Outpost to call for her father.
For caution's sake, Charles and company did not follow, nor did Andny send any mosquito spies. They dared not risk her father misunderstanding the intent.
Out in the wilderness, treading the soft, dry grass, alone beneath the broad mountains, Nidalee shifted to human form and crouched low, eyes closed, chanting arcane incantations.
It was the unique contact ritual of the Mountaineer druids: even at a distance of a hundred miles, her father would perceive her call, and send his envoys in reply.
He did not keep her waiting long. Soon, a mighty stag burst from the trees, tall and well-muscled, its hide glossy, two grand antlers crowning its brow—a true king of the herd.
Seeing it approach, Nidalee rose and adopted a posture of respect. The stag regarded her, and then—her father's voice issued from its mouth: "Nidalee, where have you been? Have you brought back the Holy Sword Fragment?"
This was Nidalee's father, Archdruid Ilarode. He could link his spirit to the mountains, and thus every animal here became his eyes and ears, his apostles, serving as his spies or mouthpieces.
It was a costly power, prone to disruption if disturbed.
Upon being questioned, an involuntary resentment stirred inside Nidalee. She could not help but feel her father viewed her as little more than a tool—a means to an end, with no regard for her feelings, health, or well-being. All that mattered to him was whether she'd brought back something of value.
But then, who among them wasn't used this way?
Tormented by these thoughts, she did not answer directly, but said, "Father, I've found a way to purify the Earth Dragon's demonic corruption."
"This method is far more reliable than the Holy Sword Fragment."
At that, the stag's brows drew together, its expression darkening: "In other words, you didn't bring it back?"
Nidalee felt helpless—Charles's advice was of little use here. "No, Father—it was used up already, for... purifying another powerful fiend."
She pressed the point: "But please believe me, this new remedy is even more reliable."
The stag's frown remained; its face perfectly conveyed Ilarode's current mood. "Explain your plan."
Nidalee took a long breath. "It's this: I'm traveling in the company of Nigel Charles, the Priest."
"At the foot of the mountain, I learned he wields a miraculous energy. He can purify undead, fiends, and any contaminated life—as well as the pollution they produce. If we allow him to approach the Earth Dragon—"
The Archdruid's voice turned instantly icy: "You would allow a man of Sein to lay hands on our Earth Dragon?!"
"Have you considered, Nidalee, what the other tribes would think if they heard about this?!"
Nidalee was momentarily stunned, murmuring quietly, "He isn't of the Empire of Sein. He's a Silver Kin born in Liberl Port..."
"Is that really any different?" retorted the stag. "Are you saying Liberl Port doesn't belong to the Empire of Sein—or that Silver Kin aren't its primary race?"
"When the mountain folk see that hair of white and eyes of blue, who won't immediately associate him with the empire?"
Nidalee had no answer.
Though her father often urged his people not to live in hatred of Liberl Port, the Empire of Sein, or the Silver Kin, most of their allied tribes were hardline hawks. To them, it was crucial to project a fiercely anti-Liberl Port appearance.
Now, at this key alliance moment, if he invited a Silver Kin from Liberl Port into their tribe to treat the Earth Dragon, it would be akin to a major red-bloc nation, during the Cold War, inviting an expert from the blue bloc to tour its armory—how could his allies not react with suspicion?
Even if Ilarode himself trusted his daughter's judgment, inviting that outsider into the tribe, his allies assuredly would not.
For this, Nidalee could only fall silent. She wasn't unskilled in speech, but years of accumulated paternal authority all but stifled her thoughts.
Seeing his daughter appear to submit, the stag dipped its head, clearly satisfied: "In short, consider this mission a failure, Nidalee."
"As for what we agreed before, upon your return, you will marry Torun."
Nidalee jerked her head up, pupils pinning, "No—I won't marry him. I do not like him!"
'Like' was too mild—she nearly hated him. Torun, the minotaur, radiated a mysterious self-confidence, forever flexing his bulging muscles before her, seemingly unaware that this only repelled. Every mention of Liberl Port brought his wild, nearly fanatical hatred to a boil, as he shouted slogans to show his absolute loyalty. It filled Nidalee with utter aversion.
Just imagining a lifetime with this man was torment enough.
"Nidalee!" The Archdruid's voice turned stern once more, "You are the chief's daughter. You have your duty!"
Nidalee's heart leapt into her throat—she opened her mouth, but it was as if a giant's hand gripped her throat, rendering her speechless—
Suddenly, a white silhouette flashed before her mind's eye.
It was Charles's figure.
A new courage surged in her heart, a bolt of lightning through her thoughts, gifting her with a new idea.
"But Father, I've already found someone I love," she said. "And on this trip, I've already given him both my body and soul."
As she spoke, she could not help but smile, arms crossing her chest as if embracing something precious, her eyes shining with happiness.
At that, the stag's eyes went wide: "What did you just say?!"
He had never imagined—the little cabbage he had so carefully raised had gone off and been claimed by a wild boar, just from a single trip down the mountain, before he could ever sell her to his intended buyer!
How could this not fill him with rage?
Nidalee drew a deep breath. Even though her father was plainly furious, his overwhelming aura pressed down on her, yet at this moment—thinking of that white silhouette—she felt boundless courage and strength. There was not a shred of fear: "I said, I have found my one true love in this life. As of now, I have given him my body and soul both."
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