In the Face of the Beast

Two figures made their way through the vast highlands, an expanse where the land rolled in heaps of verdant green. Each step they took sank slightly into the lush grass, which swayed with the afternoon breeze. Scattered across were wildflowers, each one a splash of color against the greenery.

The hills stretched far into the horizon, blending seamlessly with the sky above, where faint clouds drifted lazily. The air was rich with the scent of the flowers that flooded the landscape, mixing with the earthy scent of the highland soil. Small birds flitted between the wildflowers, their chirps harmonizing with the rustling grass.

Yet, despite this beauty surrounding them, both figures remained transfixed on a monumental sight ahead. Rising majestically above the rolling hills was a colossal mountain. The mountain's rugged glory pierced the sky, a monstrous manifestation of stone. Its peaks, jagged and sharp, scraped against the heavens, while the lower slopes were of darker stone and patches of green.

One of the figures was Dex. He had been The First Nightmare for a year, but in reality, he had only been gone for about half a day. Dressed in pants crafted from hemp, his upper body remained bare, revealing a lean physique that attested to his rigorous training under The Sage. On his feet were a pair of traditional geta. He hated these wooden sandals desperately, but they were a requirement enforced by the sage, and even though he couldn't fathom the reason behind it, he complied.

"What happens when I reach the top?"

Dex turned to the Mountain Sage, only to find that she had vanished without uttering a single word.

He blinked, confused, and turned around. All that surrounded him were the hills of the highlands. He smirked and nodded his head slightly.

Dex turned back to where they had come from, and in the distance, he could see a silhouette watching him from afar.

"Too cowardly to say goodbye?"

The blind sage always moved effectively, her steps unhurried and graceful, as if she could see where she was going. It baffled him how she never stumbled, not even once under his eye. He had asked her once how she managed to always find her way.

"The land dictates where I go," she had replied.

But now, as he watched her silhouette in the distance, he felt an urge for revenge—nothing too crazy, just something casual.

He raised a hand and waved.

"I'm going to hell," he muttered, shaking his head as he turned away laughing and set off toward the daunting mountain.

As he approached the mountain, the once lush, green terrain began to morph into a rugged rocky landscape. At the base of the mountain, the land spread wide and expansive, revealing a view of cracks and deep gorges.

Peering upward, one could hardly comprehend the harshness of the mountain's ascent. The incline jutted abruptly, a near absolute vertical rise that seemed to defy logic. Clusters of trees grew on the sides of the mountain, their roots securing them on the rock. It was an amazing sight, as if the earth had been drawn up into the sky.

He maneuvered through the jagged terrain. Climbing over massive boulders and scattered debris—remnants of rock that had tumbled down from the daunting mountain. The ground was uneven, littered with sharp edges and loose stones, that would pierce anyone who was careless. After some time, he finally made it to the base of the mountain and placed his hand upon its cool surface.

He kicked off his geta, the wooden sandals clattering against the stone floor.

He began to climb, his fingers digging into the rugged surface of the mountain, grasping and clinging to the coarse rock. He meticulously shifted his holds with each upward movement. Even without the help of any gear, the first hundred feet felt like child's play to him, a warm-up that paled in comparison to the grueling training the sage had put him through.

The woman had pushed his body to its limits, subjecting him to a relentless regimen that felt like pure torment at times. Now, as he scaled the mountain, he could appreciate the hard work she had put him through and was grateful for every second of it.

After climbing a few more feet, fatigue began to settle in, his limbs feeling as if they were made of lead. He looked upward for a place to rest—maybe a ledge he could perch on for a moment or an opening where he could rest. To his luck, just a short distance to his left, he saw a cave nestled into the side of the mountain.

The cave's mouth was jagged with rugged stone, and although the interior was shadowy, it appeared spacious enough for him to rest.

When Dex finally reached the maw of the cave, he collapsed on the cave floor. He groaned as he rolled onto his back to look up at the cave ceiling, his muscles aching from the constant climb of several hundred feet without rest.

He summoned the [Traveler's Gourd]. This memory was one he had received from the earlier days in this Nightmare.

The gourd itself was an elegantly crafted vessel with a smooth, rounded body and a simple cork-like stopper. However, it wasn't just a standard gourd; one of its benefits was its capacity, which was deceptively larger than its size.

He managed to rise to his feet, his movements echoing off the walls of the cave as he sloshed the contents of the gourd around. He peered outside the entrance of the cave, and the view was breathtaking. The green and brown colors stretched far into the distance.

It was empowering to see how far he had come, but he was fully aware that this was only the beginning.

He took a seat at the cave's edge, his feet dangling carelessly several hundred feet above the ground on the side of the mountain.

After resting, he dismissed the gourd, watching it vanish into sparks that dissipated in the air. The cool mountain breeze against his shirtless body gave him a sudden boost of determination. He raised his arms high above his head, stretching out his muscles.

"Back to it!" he declared with a shout, trying to summon more strength.

Dex found a stable grip as he peered over the heart-stopping drop below him. For most people, this would be a fear, but for Dex, it was a thrill.

He shifted his weight onto a new handhold and stepped out of the cave and glanced back into its dark recesses, for reasons he couldn't quite explain, but he was glad he did. What he saw were gleaming red eyes reflecting back at him from the shadows. They numbered eight, unblinking and predatory.

He thought his eyes were playing tricks on him as he squinted.

Suddenly, a massive spider lunged from the darkness with unnerving speed. However, his position outside the cave, combined with his reflexes, allowed him to swiftly leap to another handhold as the creature slammed its head against the side of the cave, emitting a screech of frustration.

Dangling from the handhold with one hand, he turned to his right. With his other hand, he had already summoned his memory—a tiny blade that barely reflected the orange light of the afternoon.

The spider's front legs grasped the side of the mountain, and Dex felt a chill run down his spine. The monstrous creature emerged from the cave's maw.

As the creature fully revealed itself, the spider set its eight eyes on him—rather, its seven eyes—as the creature squinted one eye that it had damaged by colliding with the rugged cave opening. Its body was a deep obsidian black with the front part covered in fine, dark purple hairs. Its legs were long and thin, alternating dark bands with lighter ones.

Its fangs were gruesome, easily the length of Dex's torso. With a single bite, this creature could sever him in half.

"That damned sage!" Dex shouted. "I've spent several months training under you, and this is what you throw at me?!"

Dex gripped the blade tightly, ready to face the beast as he hung from the handhold.

As if accepting the challenge, the massive spider, a grotesque creature of chitin and horror, skittered swiftly along the mountain's side, its long legs navigating the terrain with practiced efficiency.

Startled by its sudden speed, Dex attempted to further the distance from the creature. He leaped and scrambled for another handhold in the jagged rock. But it was all in vain; the creature had adapted perfectly to this environment and closed the short distance in a second.

The sound of its legs skittering alongside the mountainside echoed in Dex's ears. Just as the spider's fangs descended to crush him. He narrowly avoided the deadly strike. He swung his tiny blade with every ounce of strength. The metal connected with one of the spider's fangs, halting them a few inches form his face. The impacted reverberated through his arm, yet he held strong, resisting death.

The massive spider, furious at this resistance, attempted to clamp down further, but Dex braced himself further, struggling against the beast. It shrieked in anger, the sound the caused his adrenaline to peak allowing him to hold on longer.

Its breath wafting over him with a putrid stench that smelled of decay and death.

"Your breath stinks!" Dex shouted wrinkling his nose.

He felt his grip slipping as the creature bore down on him with relentless force, its massive form pressing closer. Its movements are further punctuated by the sound of its legs scraping against the rock. Saliva dripped from its mouth, spattering onto his arm in a warm, viscous stream that could have taken him out from the smell alone. The increasing pain in his arm was the only thing that helped him maintain his focus.

In a heart-stopping moment, he felt the blade shatter under the force of the creature's jaws, the metal splintering glaze leaving him disarmed.

"Damn it!" Dex shouted, he quickly pulled back his arm. Just in time, he evaded the jaws that snapped down with a hiss. The rush of air from the creature's bite whipped past him.

With his hand now free, Dex frantically grabbed another hold, his fingers quickly found purchase. Once he found a resemblance of stability he began to fight back the only way he could. He began kicking wildly, targeting any part of the creature he could reach—Its long, spindly legs, its face, its beady eyes. It didn't matter where he struck. Each kick felt futile, like battering a solid tree trunk, its chitin was just too strong.

Yet, against these odds, he managed to land a lucky kick that sent one of the spider's legs detaching it from the mountainside, the creature momentarily thrown off balance. It shifted its weight to another leg, but Dex was quicker and retaliated, his foot connecting with that one too forcing the creature to stagger once again.

Finally, Dex delivered a kick that bore the weight of his entire body, driving his foot squarely into the spider's grotesque face. The impact sent the creature tumbling backwards, its limbs flailing as it lost its grip and began to roll down the mountain.

"Damned beast!" Dex spat, his words bursting forth in anger.

Peering down, Dex watched as the spider collided with a jagged rock, its immense body crumpling against the stone. A gory spray of guts and dark, viscous blood erupted from the shattered chitin. The creature writhed in agony, impaled upon the sharp stone pike, its legs thrashing violently, each movement only worsened its wounds.

Eventually, the massive spider succumbed to its injuries, its body going still with a final shudder.

He stood there for a moment, his heart racing, the taste of victory, a metallic tang in his mouth as he waited for the spell to congratulate his kill.

[You have slain a Dormant beast, Infantile Dark-laced Weaver]

"Infantile? That was a baby?!" He spoke with a voice of disbelief; his ego has just been shut down heavily, struggling with an Infantile spider.

[You have received a memory]

It felt almost like an undeserved reward, but he rifled through his collection of runes anyway. His gaze sharpened and settled upon the new memory.

[Sycophant's Enshroudment]