"...The boss monster," Wein muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.
He stared at the enormous figure blocking the path to the glowing platform, his blue eyes fixed on the grotesque creature that loomed before him.
His shoulders stiffened, a shiver crawling down his spine despite the adrenaline heating his veins.
Damn it. I really hate these bugs.
Of all the beasts across the hundred realms, insectoid creatures were the ones he hated most.
It wasn't just their appearance—though that alone was enough to make his skin crawl. Facing something so grotesque didn't scare him; it only made him want to kill it more. Still, just looking at it turned his stomach.
Its sheer ugliness could make anyone feel sick.
Especially the Skitter before him.
Its sheer size only emphasized its horrific face. It looked like a cicada, but stripped of the familiar, bulbous eyes. What remained was a grotesque, featureless mask of twitching mandibles and writhing mouthparts. Veins pulsed beneath a bloated, red-tinged carapace, its thick armor slick with oozing fluids. Eight legs jutted out from beneath it, all sharp as daggers, clacking rhythmically as it shifted its weight.
Two thick antennae waved slowly from its head, as though tasting the air around him—tasting him.
Wein swallowed back the nausea rising in his throat.
Facing this thing was like stepping into a living nightmare.
His eyes flicked up toward the realm's glowing timer.
266 seconds.
Four minutes and a few spare breaths.
'Time is running so fast.'
He gritted his teeth. "Four minutes... I need to finish this before then."
He exhaled slowly and steadied himself, but the hesitation lingered.
The beast's hulking form dwarfed him, and the longer he stared, the smaller he felt. Like an insect trying to fight a god.
Wein's eyes snapped to the shadows encircling him.
Seven smaller Skitters had emerged, crouched low in the brush. They didn't charge yet, instead they waited in silence, their mandibles twitching in unison.
Waiting for the signal.
He clenched the grip tighter. He had no time for fear.
The boss Skitter twitched. Then, a sharp hiss tore through the air, followed by a thunderous sound.
CRACK!
The massive creature lunged at him.
Wein launched himself sideways, narrowly dodging a bladed leg that sliced through the earth where he'd just stood. It gouged a trench through the dirt, tearing roots and soil into the air.
He rolled, came up low, and sprinted in a curve. The ground shook beneath him as the boss pursued, its body swaying, its limbs slamming into the forest floor like living hammers.
The smaller Skitters scattered and repositioned, circling tighter. One darted in from the side—he parried, steel against shell, sparks flashing. Another burst from behind—he ducked, twisted, slashed low.
"Damn you, annoying bugs. Where were you earlier? Now you all show up at once and try to gang up on me? Freaking pests."
Wein was moving constantly—jumping roots, slipping past bark, pivoting from crashing limbs. It was like trying to fight in the center of a storm.
As he leapt and dodged, the only thought running through his mind was a simple, desperate hope—Just don't trip on anything… or it's over.
The boss lashed out again, its bloated body twisting with unnatural grace. Its massive bulk slammed down—
BOOM!
The ground cracked, sending a burst of dust billowing into the air.
Wein staggered back, eyes stinging. Through the blur, he saw one of the smaller Skitters charging toward him.
He struck on instinct.
Shrrk!
The blade pierced through its mouth—then the creature burst into a cloud of glowing light.
"Serves you right."
But he had no time to rest.
The Skitter Boss shrieked—a deep, resonant roar that rolled through the trees. Its antennae curled back. Its armored frame reared up.
Wein's eyes widened. "Nope—!"
It came crashing down.
SLAM!
The ground split. Trees cracked. The force sent Wein flying backward.
He hit the dirt hard and rolled, coming up with a scratch running across his cheek. Blood trickled down, stinging.
He wiped it with the back of his sleeve and got to his feet.
The timer above ticked down—
188 seconds.
Three minutes left.
Six Skitters and a Boss monster.
His eyes tracked it: the soft underside, just near the rear. The moment the beast swayed too far in any direction, it revealed a small gap between the plates.
That was his chance.
But to reach it, he'd have to dodge six legs, six minions, and not get crushed in the process.
Then the monster lunged again.
Without hesitation, Wein turned and sprinted toward a narrow gap in the trees, his boots crunching through roots and leaves. The forest was dense—gnarled trunks curved in like the ribs of a giant beast—but he moved with purpose.
The Skitter Boss roared and gave chase.
Its bloated mass surged forward, but the forest turned into a snare. The Skitter lunged to strike—but its massive frame got wedged between the thick trees. Its limbs flailed, scraping against bark, and its body strained to push through. Instead of moving freely, it was forced to crawl over the tangled branches, its upper body rising above the tree line like some grotesque statue.
For a brief moment, it looked as if it were standing upright—its front limbs raised, mandibles twitching. And in that moment, its lower body hung exposed beneath the twisting branches, wide open and vulnerable.
That was all the time Wein needed.
Amid the crash of splintering wood and tumbling branches, Wein spun on his heel. His blue eyes locked onto the Skitter's exposed underside—its weak point.
"There you are," he breathed.
His muscles tensed. He surged forward like a loosed arrow, weaving through the chaos. Twigs whipped against his face.
He ducked under a sweeping branch, darted past a burst of falling bark, and stepped into the beast's shadow.
He raised his sword—ready to strike—when suddenly…
The Skitter's bloated body twisted violently—its massive rear curving inward like a scorpion's tail.
Wein's eyes widened.
"Crap!"
Before he could react—
CRACK!
The tail slammed into his side like a hammer.
Pain exploded across his ribs.
He was thrown through the air like a ragdoll and crashed into a tree with a sickening thud.
Branches struck his back as he flew through them. Sharp twigs scratched at his skin. Bark tore his sleeves and scraped across his shoulders.
The world spun.
He hit the ground hard. Air rushed from his lungs.
His sword had been flung out of reach, glinting somewhere in the dust.
His chest throbbed. His back screamed and he tasted blood in his mouth—metallic and bitter.
"Damn it…" he muttered, voice rough. "This bastard's not easy to fool."
His plan had been simple: use the forest's thick branches to slow the beast, get in close, and strike the weak point.
Instead, he had walked into the trap.
From the distance, he heard the Skitter's limbs, scraping and clicking as it came for him again.
Wein clenched his jaw. Agony burned in his side.
The glowing timer above ticked down. Each second passed like a sentence.
Am I going to die here?
Seriously? In level two?
He quickly caught himself. No—I shouldn't look down on this level just because it's low. He had been cocky, relying too much on what he knew from the game.
But this wasn't a game. All of this was real.
If I die here… there's no respawn. No second chance.
I keep thinking I can outsmart them based on my knowledge of the game.
But his body couldn't keep up with the plans in his head.
Knowledge means nothing if I can't survive long enough to use it.
He clenched his fists.
No.
He wasn't going to die that easily.