Steven’s eyes began to weakly pry themselves open, his body numb from sleep, his taste bitter and his being sore from all the injuries he had accumulated. Still, they did not hurt like before; thanks to his healing and the proper rest he had gotten, he did not feel much pain from them anymore.

He sat upright, removing his being from the rock-hard surface of the wall that had dug right into his back.

"Shit... comforts like the Damned Colosseum."

He rubbed his eyes to get rid of the remnants of sleep clinging to them, and then, that was when he heard it.

A gentle scribbling sound echoed faintly through the cave, subtle yet distinct enough to catch his attention.

"What the—?"

His eyes fell onto his Summon.

The Grey Knight sat cross-legged in comfort opposite him. In one hand was a piece of rock... No, it was some kind of tablet resting on his lap, and in his gauntlet was a grey quill, moving smoothly as it scribbled across the stone.

Steven froze at the sight, surprise overtaking him as he stared at the unexpected actions of his Knight.

"What are you doing?" he asked, curiosity lacing his tone.

Nott, noticing this, wiggled its head as though joyfully. It then dismissed the Grey Quill from its grasp and picked up the stone tablet, holding it up to show what it had been scribbling to Steven.

Steven’s face paled at what he saw.

"Oh my God..." he muttered, glazing at it.

It was a drawing, a brilliant sketch of Steven and Nott in this exact cave. The tablet was smooth, and the drawings were filled with so many majestic colours. They were not entirely accurate, but in a way that made the art feel alive, vibrant, and breathing.

{The Quill of the Honourable}

Steven said nothing, simply staring at the tablet in awe. Nott seemed excited from his demeanor, quickly dropping the tablet and picking up another from beside him, revealing it to his Master in haste.

This one was even more majestic than the first, depicting the scenery of when Steven and Nott had battled against the Flock of Horrids. The chaos, the motion, the clash—it was all captured flawlessly.

"Wow... my stance and all is so incredible," Steven commended, placing a hand on his chin as he mentally imitated the cinematic scene. How he had placed a foot forward and swung his blade at the night flock as they plummeted down at him.

Then Nott brought out the final tablet.

It was not as impressive as the others, but still interesting to look at—an illustration of Steven plummeting down at the outcrop, frozen at the moment of his fall.

Steven shook his head in exhilaration.

"Wow... just wow," he clapped. "You are really talented, Nott. I can see why the princess fell for you. If I was her, I would have certainly been enthralled by your art."

Nott suddenly froze.

His excitement died instantly. The Knight dismissed the tablets and turned his head away from Steven, clearly offended by the sarcastic mention of the princess.

"You are so bloody dramatic," Steven scoffed as he slowly rose to his feet. "Highborns and their stupid pride."

Nott shook his head and also rose. The mighty Grey Knight was almost fully healed—its hand restored, the caves in its armour finally gone. All that remained to testify to the heinous battle they had endured were the trails of dents scattered across the grey armour.

"Let’s get going," Steven commanded, taking the lead into the darkness of the cave, with Nott following close behind, its metal boots echoing through the hollow void every now and then.

The Knight would clearly act as a beacon, alerting enemies to their position. Still, Steven did not dismiss him.

Knowing Nott’s reflex skill was superior to his, it was better to keep him close. In case a surprise attack came faster than Steven could react, the trained Knight would be able to respond in time to prevent Steven from being fatally injured—or killed outright.

They continued through the tunnel, walking deeper into its grim, shadowy depths.

Still, there were no signs of life, nor was there any hint of brightness at the end of this endless despair of a tunnel.

The only things present were cobwebs; many of them. They were largely situated around the walls, and some had grown so large they covered a massive portion of the tunnel, forcing the two to move closer to the walls to find a way around them or cut right through the thick strands.

’This place has long been lost to the spiders... it’s unfortunate,’ Steven thought, knowing this meant it had been a very long while since humans had used the tunnels, judging by how large the cobwebs had become.

"Either that," he muttered, "or there are really large spiders..."

Clank!

Steven’s instincts kicked in. The verdant longsword materialized into his grasp as he turned around sharply to meet—

Nothing.

There was nothing there in the distance where he had heard the disturbance. Just cobwebs... and Nott, standing alert with the visor of his helmet aimed toward the same direction, also searching for the source of the sound.

So Steven knew he was not paranoid.

Since his Knight had heard it too, something had definitely made that noise.

But what?

Steven reinforced his grip around his blade, using his peripheral vision to scan the massive cavern around them. He could not properly see straight to the walls, but from what little he could make out, there was nothing.

’Is the cave playing tricks on us?’ he questioned himself, trying to ease the growing tension.

Then the sound came again.

This time from ahead, the path they were following.

The two turned faster than before, desperate to glimpse whatever was cornering them and saw...

Nothing again.

This wasn’t possible.

Steven’s demeanor morphed into confusion and anxiety. He lowered his blade slightly and began weaving his head around, searching for whatever was circling them unseen.

Nott did not follow his desperate method of searching. He remained calm, closing the distance between himself and his Master. As he did, he nudged Steven gently, drawing his attention, then pointed upward—toward the top of the cave where the light crystals hung.

There it was.

The cause of the noise, and Steven’s prediction coming true, unfortunately.

Sticking to the roofing of the cave was a fiendish spider resembling a tarantula, but standing nearly two meters tall, its body crawling with a thousand eyes that arched with malicious intent.

Steven frowned.

"Another accursed beast."

He took his stance, steadying himself—and so did Nott.

A bead of sweat ran clearly down Steven’s face as his gaze pierced into the darkness above. Beyond what the glow of the crystals allowed him to see, more red, depraved eyes appeared along the cave’s roof.

Several... no, a dozen of them.

They gnawed at his being and that of his Knight, with relentless hunger.

"Fuck... damn me."

{Dreadlings encountered}

{You have entered a Nest of Blood Weavers}