After dinner, the night settled deep over the plains. The air had cooled, and the only light came from the flicker of torches and the faint, glowing eyes of the rock tortoise resting in the distance.
Luciel stretched, feeling the fatigue of the day in his shoulders. "Let's go," he said. "We'll finish up at the camp tonight."
Mino hesitated, clutching her torch close. The camp, which only that morning had been filled with noise and life, was now shrouded in silence. Empty tents and broken fences loomed in the dark like hollow skeletons.
"Do we have to go now?" she asked quietly, glancing toward the black stretch of ground where the old camp waited.
Luciel smiled faintly. "The sooner we set things up, the less work we'll have tomorrow." He handed her another torch. "You take that side. I'll take this one. We'll meet in the middle."
Mino's grip tightened around the wooden handle. "O-okay," she said, trying to sound brave.
Luciel added, "I'll have the skink follow you."
The small, tri-colored lizard uncurled from the shadows, its scales shimmering faintly like oil on water. It gave a low, hissing chirp before crawling beside Mino's boots.
The girl's shoulders relaxed a little. "That helps," she admitted, smiling down at the creature.
Luciel nodded. "Don't bother piling too much wood. Just enough for the fireplaces. We'll light them tomorrow."
"Got it," she said, and turned toward the camp. Her torchlight bobbed like a tiny star against the dark horizon as she walked away.
Luciel watched her go and shook his head with a small, amused sigh. "Braver than she thinks," he murmured. "But still just a girl."
He headed toward the opposite row of huts. The night air was crisp, filled with the smell of dry grass and ash. Every footstep echoed softly on the packed earth. Inside the empty shelters, he began stacking logs in the hearths, one by one. The firewood would serve as a lure. By dawn, when the spies came to investigate, they would think the camp had only just been abandoned.
If luck held, it might even draw out Bloodbeard's men.
He worked quietly, moving from hut to hut, until his torchlight illuminated a small building near the edge of the camp. The door creaked open, and a wave of dust rolled out.
"This one hasn't been touched in a while," he muttered. Cobwebs hung thick across the corners, glimmering faintly in the torchlight.
Luciel stepped inside, wrinkling his nose at the musty air. Just as he turned to leave, something dropped from the ceiling—a long, black thread descending into view.
A spider.
It hung motionless in front of his face, its body no larger than a fingernail, yet glinting with a strange red sheen.
Luciel chuckled under his breath. "Seems tonight's domestication points shouldn't go to waste, huh?"
He raised a hand and gently caught the spider between his fingers. The moment his skin brushed its body, the familiar metallic chime of the system rang in his head.
> Ding! A domesticable creature has been detected. Would you like to tame it?
"Tame," Luciel said calmly.
> Ding! Level 0 lifeform detected: Redback Spider. Taming in progress…
Taming successful. 10 domestication points consumed.
The spider twitched once in his palm—and began to grow.
Within seconds, it expanded from a fingertip-sized creature to the span of his entire hand. Its body gleamed a deep obsidian black, the ends of its eight legs tipped in crimson. Most striking of all, a faint red marking shaped like a demonic face spread across its back, pulsing faintly as if alive.
Luciel raised an eyebrow. "That's new."
> Ding! Inheritable talent detected: Spider Silk Perception. Would you like to inherit?
"Inherit," he said.
> Inheriting... Adaptation complete.
A brief warmth spread across Luciel's fingertips. It was subtle, almost imperceptible—a tingling that faded too quickly to be called power.
He flexed his fingers, frowning slightly. "Huh. That's it?"
His body had grown far stronger than it once was. Perhaps that was why the fusion of such a low-tier ability barely made a ripple. Still, curiosity tugged at him.
"System," he said, "evolve the Red Ghost Spider to Level 3."
> Evolving Level 1 Red Ghost Spider to Level 3. 110 evolution points consumed.
Evolution complete.
Talent evolved: Spider Silk Control. Synchronizing trainer ability... Complete.
Another wave of heat passed through his hands—stronger this time, yet still mild compared to the rush he'd felt with the tortoise or the lizard.
Luciel opened his system panel and scanned the new stats.
---
Trainer: Luciel
Strength: 24.2 Speed: 23.5 Endurance: 24 Spirit: 35
Lifespan: 24 / 450 years
Abilities: Earth Rock Burst (Lv. 3), Mimic Stealth (Lv. 3), Spider Silk Control (Lv. 3)
Domesticated Beasts:
• Rock Tortoise – Talent: Ground Thorn Eruption (Lv. 3)
• Three-Color Lizard – Talent: Mimic Stealth (Lv. 3)
• Red Ghost Spider – Talent: Spider Silk Control (Lv. 3)
---
Luciel let out a soft whistle. "Sure enough, each level-up matters less than the first. Greedy to expect more, I guess."
Still, a grin tugged at the corner of his mouth as he turned his gaze to the creature on his arm. The Red Ghost Spider, now nearly a meter wide, clung to his sleeve with elegant precision. Its eight crimson-tipped legs gleamed faintly in the firelight.
"Well, aren't you a pretty nightmare," Luciel said dryly. "Think you can get down without scaring me to death?"
The spider emitted a faint, leathery squeak, then shot a line of silk toward the ceiling and vanished upward in a blur.
Luciel laughed softly. "Efficient."
He decided to test the ability for himself. Raising his index finger, he focused his thoughts—and a thin, nearly invisible strand of silk shot forth, sticking perfectly to a pile of wood across the room.
He felt it—an almost tactile awareness of the silk's tension, the weight of the object it touched, even the faint outline of its shape.
"So that's Spider Silk Perception," he murmured. "Feels like an extra sense."
He tugged lightly. The silk didn't snap. In fact, it felt stronger than most rope he'd ever handled. The stickiness came from thousands of microscopic filaments woven together—a natural masterpiece of biology.
Luciel grinned to himself. "Transparent, strong, and sensitive. Perfect for traps."
He looked up at the spider again, which was now calmly watching him from the rafters. "Xiaohong," he said—naming it on a whim, after its crimson markings. "I want you to go out to the edge of camp. Spin some webs out there—just far enough to catch movement. If anyone crosses them, let me know."
The spider twitched its front legs in acknowledgment, producing a faint, squeaking sound.
"And don't attack anyone," Luciel added quickly. "Just alert me."
Another squeak. Then, with a flick of its spinnerets, the spider shot a silken line across the doorway and disappeared into the night, gliding like a shadow through the air.
Luciel chuckled. "Guess that makes me Spider-Man now," he muttered, though the thought of himself swinging through the air made him snort. "Let's not push it."
He turned back to the task at hand—stacking the last of the firewood.
---
A faint voice broke the silence. "Luciel?"
He straightened, recognizing Mino's tone—nervous, uncertain. Her torchlight appeared between two houses, flickering against the stone walls.
"I'm here," he called back.
Relief washed over her face as she trotted toward him, her small frame outlined by the glow of firelight. "I've only got a few more houses left," she said, her breath quick. "This place gives me chills."
Luciel smirked faintly. "You'll live. Come on—let's finish up and head back."
He noticed her rabbit ears twitching, standing upright like antennae. Fear and cold had her on edge.
"Alright," she said, following his lead.
In less than ten minutes, the two had finished placing wood in every remaining fireplace. The camp looked almost lived in again—quietly staged for whatever came next.
They met in the center, torches burning low. The wind had picked up, carrying with it the sharp scent of night and the distant rustle of dry grass.
For a while, neither of them spoke. Their footsteps fell in sync as they walked side by side toward the tortoise. The world around them was ink-black, save for the small circles of orange light that danced ahead of them.
Luciel noticed the girl shiver. Her breath came out in thin clouds. "It's getting cold," he said quietly. "Come on—let's get back."
He reached out, without really thinking, and took her hand. His palm was warm, rough from work.
Mino stiffened in surprise, but then smiled softly, her fingers tightening around his. "Okay," she whispered.
They broke into a light jog, the two torches flickering in the darkness like twin fireflies. The night wind rushed past them, carrying away the silence that had settled over the empty camp.
By the time the glow of the rock tortoise came into view, Mino was laughing breathlessly, her cheeks flushed from the run. For a brief moment, the world felt almost normal—no hunters, no bloodbeard, no danger. Just the warmth of a hand in hers, and the promise of another day survived.