The tarantula's hairy leg fell to the ground, leaving a trail of black blood.
Kael raised an eyebrow for the first time in the entire fight.
"At least you're not that stupid," he muttered to himself, taking another bite of his purple apple.
Eren felt the sweetest success he could have hoped for. A rush of adrenaline burned through his veins, rising from his chest to his fingertips. His lips curved into a smile devoid of joy.
The tarantula with the human face writhed. Shrill screeches filled with rage and hatred erupted from its mouth.
The remaining seven legs pounded the ground like a wild drum, causing the dust particles to vibrate.
Breathing heavily, Eren watched as the creature lunged toward him. Its expression was strange, almost excited, with a disturbing gleam in its eyes, while the stench of decay and old blood filled his nostrils.
The attack was brutal. The seven legs moved like uncontrolled blades.
But just as they were about to reach him, the creature lost its balance: its body shook, stumbled, and fell to the ground like a grotesque, uncontrolled mass.
Eren didn't hesitate. Ignoring the pain in his muscles and the throbbing of his wounds, he launched himself into the attack.
His plan had worked.
The leg he had cut off was one of the dominant ones. Having lost it, the creature had not adapted, and its balance had been disrupted.
The coin sword descended violently. First, there was a metallic hiss as it pierced the exoskeleton.
Then, a wet crack marked the moment the flesh gave way.
Another leg fell. This time, the blow was louder, splattering black blood like ink.
Thick drops flew through the air: some exploded hot on Eren's face, others painted the walls in grotesque arcs of shadow.
The tarantula screamed. A howl pierced the air, so high-pitched that it seemed to shatter the very silence of the stones.
Its body convulsed violently. Its legs thrashed the ground as if trying to tear themselves off.
Eren staggered backward, his legs burning from the effort.
The air burned his lungs as he inhaled, but he couldn't afford more than a second.
The tarantula was still there, its hairy legs scratching the ground in an ominous rhythm.
No. He wouldn't give it a moment's respite.
He lunged forward, the blade of his sword tracing arcs.
Each cut tore through the air before sinking into the tarantula's chitinous body, releasing a stream of viscous black liquid that splattered the floor.
The creature's screams exploded like knives against his eardrums, sharp, desperate, a symphony of agony that echoed through the room.
Time seemed to stand still.
Every movement Eren made was a frozen image in his mind: the crackling sound of flesh tearing, the acrid smell of tarantula blood mixing with the salty sweat running down his forehead, the trembling in his arms from accumulated fatigue.
Little by little, the screams died down.
All that remained was a thick silence, broken only by Eren's ragged breathing, his chest rising and falling violently.
Eren stood motionless, the sword trembling in his hand, staring down at the still-twitching corpse.
Drops of black blood trickled down his face, mixed with sweat. His eyes, once filled with a mysterious gleam, were now empty.
He was no longer the same.
From a distance, Kael watched silently.
The apple crunched between his teeth.
"Maybe it's worth it, after all."
...
With calm steps and an indifferent expression, Kael approached Eren, who was about to faint from severe blood loss.
He tossed him the two leather canteens and said, "Don't move around too much."
Eren grabbed the canteens and leaned over the tarantula's corpse, his consciousness fading in and out at intervals. He took a big gulp of water and used the other canteen to wipe the blood from his face.
Kael knelt down and calmly began bandaging Eren with quick, precise movements. After bandaging him, he stood up again and looked around before focusing on Eren.
"You have good reflexes, but you think too much. Thinking too much when fighting can lead to death." He began to point out Eren's mistakes coldly. "When you froze, if it weren't for your instincts, you would have lost your head."
Eren, despite his fatigue, absorbed everything Kael told him. Although he had noticed some things while fighting, hearing it from someone else was much better.
After pointing out Eren's mistakes, Kael also highlighted some positive points. But by his standards, he still had a long way to go, although at least he could mold him for future use.
"You did the right thing. That's why they didn't kill you. Learn your lesson, don't repeat the cause. Rest for ten minutes. Then we'll continue, there's only one more room left and we'll clear this dungeon," he said, grabbing the coin sword from his hand.
Eren couldn't take it anymore, and his consciousness faded. He was too exhausted, and the blood loss had taken its toll.
Kael looked at Eren, lying unconscious on the ground. He could have left him there. No one would have blamed him.
But he didn't.
He bent down, took out a bandage, and began to wrap his arm.
That's when he felt the vibration.
Light at first. Then more intense.
The ground shook beneath his feet.
Suddenly...
A large group of creatures emerged from various corners of the vast hall.
The creatures looked like dogs from hell itself: two heads full of teeth, skinned bodies covered with mouths and eyes as red as blood. A long tail, full of eyes and teeth, with a mouth at the end, made them look even more grotesque.
Ding!
[Mission #2: Defeat all Two-Headed Leather Dogs]
Without changing his expression in the slightest, Kael circulated his mana essence toward his dantian. The mana essence turned into a silver-colored aura, but then it turned crimson.
This was due to the aura cultivation technique known as "Crimson Plum Circulation." The crimson aura surrounded the entire coin sword.
Kael did not attack; he blossomed.
His movements were not artistic, but simple yet deadly: a twist in time with a breath, a horizontal slash that split skulls, a thrust that burst organs.
The sword drew perfect arcs, whistling as it cut through the humid air before splashing into flesh and tendons.
And then, the petals were born.
With each drop of blood that splattered, the crimson aura condensed into plum blossoms, shining like rubies.
They floated in the air, spinning slowly, mingling with the smell of iron. But there was no beauty in the sounds: the creatures' screeches pierced the air, punctuated by the gurgling of punctured lungs.
Kael moved forward without pause. The slippery floor of entrails tried to slow him down, but his steps were calculated, each footprint leaving a brief trail of petals that vanished instantly.
The sword, now stained black with dried blood, continued to exude that vibrant aura, as if hell itself were breathing through the metal.