The longer the battle dragged on, the worse the twisting unease in Jin Shu's gut became. He couldn't wait for the duel between titans to reach its conclusion—he had to act, now.

Channeling his lightning element, he threaded arcs of electricity through the railgun's inscribed runes. Each one lit up in sequence, humming as they drank in the current. The weapon thrummed in his hands, alive, hungering for destruction.

But Jin Shu held his aim steady, waiting. He couldn't fire recklessly—one mistake, and his ally would fall alongside the enemy.

The broodqueen tore free of the treant's bindings, and their clash resumed with renewed savagery. Blow after blow, the forest quaked beneath their struggle. Yet it was clear who held the advantage. The ancient treant's bark-skin had split apart in jagged cracks, red sap leaked in streams down its body like blood from a dying god.

Jin Shu realized the outcome was inevitable, and that inevitability fed his dread.

The end came swiftly. The broodqueen sank its colossal fangs into the treant's arm, plasma drooling into the wound like venom. Smoke and fire burst from within the treant's body as the corrosive heat spread. With no other choice, the ancient severed its own limb, tearing free to keep the infection from consuming it whole.

The dismembered arm crashed into the forest with an earth-shaking boom. The treant staggered, clutching at the gaping void where its limb had once been, rivers of scarlet sap spilled freely.

But the spider wasn't finished. It lunged for the titan's bowed head, fangs glowing white-hot.

The treant swung its remaining arm in desperation, a backhand that sent the broodqueen sprawling—yet the beast coiled its limbs around the arm mid-strike, dragging the ancient down into a brutal grapple. The ground heaved beneath them, as if two mountains wrestled for dominion.

Then, at last, Jin Shu saw his opening.

The treant was dangerously close, but hesitation meant certain death for it. He pulled the trigger. The railgun screamed to life, spinning the dart as raw lightning surged into it.

The shot tore free with a piercing whistle, its black-and-white lightning trail splitting the air.

BOOM!!

The dart slammed into the broodqueen's head, detonating with such force that the spider was ripped free and hurled through the sky.

SCREEE!!

Its body sailed for nearly a mile before crashing into the base of the Demon Mountains.

The impact unleashed devastation. The ground convulsed as though the world itself were tearing apart. An earthquake of impossible magnitude split the land, rending open massive chasms. Entire swaths of forest vanished into the abyss.

The widening tear raced toward Deep Root Lake, swallowing everything in its path—including the wounded treant, whose massive form disappeared into the abyss—before continuing onward.

Jin Shu leapt from his sniper perch, hitting the ground with a heavy thud before rolling to his feet. Behind him, the widening tear swallowed the root-formed nest whole. He scrambled away, barely avoiding the same fate.

He turned back just in time to see the rift carving deeper through the forest. Disciples and surviving treants fled from its path as it surged toward Deep Root Lake. Waves exploded outward, crashing against the distant island where Biyu and the dryad queen were locked in their strange ceremony. Jin Shu's chest tightened—had it reached them? Had Biyu been put in danger?

The tear consumed the shoreline, then filled with lake water, birthing a jagged river that stretched from the forest's heart to the distant mountains.

From the ground, with no vantage left, Jin Shu lost sight of the broodqueen. He could only cling to the hope that his railgun's strike had ended it like the others before.

But hope was fickle. Either fate smiled on you, or it spat in your face.

Jin Shu's heart froze as the treeline erupted. The broodqueen staggered back into the clearing—scarred, seething, but very much alive. A thin dart jutted from its skull, glinting under the moonlight. Green ichor poured from the wound, sizzling into flame wherever it touched the earth.

Yet the beast showed no sign of faltering. If anything, its fury had made it stronger.

Jin Shu rammed another dart into the railgun, shoulders tense as he aimed—

"STOP!" Nano's voice crashed into his mind.

"What?!"

"The railgun will detonate!"

He glanced down. Horror struck him. The weapon's once-polished metal was warped and blackened, its frame sagging as if half-melted.

What—?

"Your lightning is too strong. Three shots were all it could handle…"

"No… no, not now! Not like this!" Jin Shu roared, slamming his fist into the dirt.

BOOM. BOOM. BOOM.

The broodqueen advanced, each step shaking the earth. Its countless eyes locked on him—and on the ruined railgun. It knew. He was the one who had scarred it, the one who had hurled it from the battlefield.

Jin Shu's throat tightened. He searched desperately for a solution—

"Fool! Run!" Gold's voice snapped him back to life.

He shot to his feet and bolted for the lake.

He barely made five steps before agony ripped through his back. Hot blood sprayed into the air. His body was flung forward, tumbling across the dirt until he skidded to a stop at the lake's edge, groaning in pain.

"Jin Shu!"

His ears rang, drowning out the voice. But then, hands pressed to his back—two small, trembling pairs.

"Daddy!!"

Even without hearing clearly, he knew. Yin'er. And in that moment, his only wish was that she had stayed hidden.

Struggling, Jin Shu rolled onto his back. Tian Li and Li Xue crouched above him, their faces pale with fear. Before he could speak, Yin'er flew into his chest with a sob, knocking the wind from his lungs.

And then he saw it—the broodqueen. It loomed over them, its thousands of eyes glowing with hatred, steaming saliva dripping from fangs the size of towers.

The ground split apart. Hundreds of vines and roots surged upward, tangling around its colossal legs in a desperate attempt to bind it.

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From the corner of his eye, Jin Shu caught a blur of motion—Zhu Ren. She darted in with her spirit at her back, a glowing dagger inscribed with runes flashing in her grip. Together they struck, blades carving across one of the broodqueen's legs.

Ding!

The sound was like steel grating on steel, yet a clean slice appeared along the limb as Zhu Ren shot past, already moving for the next.

The broodqueen staggered, legs buckling for a heartbeat—then it ripped free of the roots and lashed out.

A leg blurred toward Zhu Ren.

She and her spirit raised their daggers in unison to block—

CRACK!

Both weapons snapped in half. The spirit dissipated, and Zhu Ren was hurled across the clearing, her arms twisted at unnatural angles as she tumbled to the ground.

Before the spider could follow up, an icy-blue flame streaked in, exploding against its carapace. Frost surged across its body, sealing it in a layer of steaming ice.

For a moment, hope sparked—only to die as the broodqueen gave a single, contemptuous shake. The ice shattered, scattering into drifting snowflakes.

More attacks rained in from every direction, but none left so much as a scratch.

Despair thickened the air. Disciples faltered. Even treants wavered, some ready to flee into the lake.

The broodqueen stepped forward, its shadow engulfing them, promising death. But then—it paused. Its eyes shifted, waiting.

A figure appeared atop its head. Cloaked in shadow, the man crouched beside the lodged dart, tilting his head as though studying it.

"Interesting… very interesting." His voice rasped like gravel, as though burned by a lifetime of smoke. "When the first broodmother fell and the swarm awakened too soon, I thought it a loss. Then came the mutants. Another loss. The second broodmother. The third. My precious broodqueen, even wounded…" He chuckled darkly. "But no matter. All of it will be made up for when I slaughter you, the dryad queen, and claim the weapon that let a pitiful Core Realm boy kill my broodmothers and wound my queen."

Jin Shu grimaced. There was no mistaking it. Only a villain would stop to monologue this long about their plans.

The cloaked man leapt down, landing before the frightened, confused survivors.

Clap. Clap. Clap.

He clapped slowly, mockingly.

"My congratulations. Truly—you've ruined far more of my plans than I expected." His grin twisted cruelly. "And yet… it seems I've won in the end, doesn't it?"

"Who are you?" Jin Shu asked.

He didn't care. He didn't need to know. But if the man kept talking, it would buy him precious time.

"Who am I?" The man chuckled darkly. "I'm your doom."

He yanked back his hood, revealing a face as grotesque as his words: a twisted nose, a crooked grin, and a spider-web tattoo stretching from his chin to the crown of his bald head.

Gasps rippled through the gathered women—not from recognition, but sheer revulsion.

The man's face twitched. Fearing he'd unleash the broodqueen if provoked, Jin Shu cut in quickly.

"You mentioned a plan," he said, forcing a respectful tone. "Could you… enlighten us? At least let us witness your brilliance before our deaths."

The word brilliance tasted like bile on his tongue, but villains loved nothing more than the sound of their own ego being stroked.

"My brilliance?" The man laughed—a cruel, rasping sound—but his tone carried smug satisfaction.

While he reveled in himself, Jin Shu's gaze flicked to Li Xue. Her storage pouch still hung at her waist. He hadn't seen her fire the glock he'd given her, or the vector—she'd fought blindfolded most of the time. Unlike him and Tian Li, she should still have ammo.

A plan began to form.

The man droned on, but Jin Shu barely heard him. Slowly, subtly, he lifted a hand and traced letters on Li Xue's back.

She jerked, startled, and glanced down at him in confusion. He met her gaze, urging her to calm down.

She gave the faintest nod.

Pouch. Gun. Shoot on signal.

She stiffened at the words etched into her skin, then nodded again.

Jin Shu drew a shallow breath. He just needed the right opening.

"—and that's why my plan to gather thousands of living sacrifices was flawless," the man sneered. "Spiders keep their prey alive, wrapped in silk for later feasting."

One of the younger disciples shakily raised her hand. The gesture was so out of place it made the man pause.

"Yes?" He tilted his head mockingly. "Do you have a question about my brilliance?"

"Well…" the girl stammered. "I mean… your plan wouldn't work."

The man's eyes narrowed. "What?"

"Demonic wood spiders don't use neurotoxin," she said, voice trembling but steady. "They don't paralyze prey, they kill it. Their silk isn't for storage—it's for fighting. They don't even build webs…"

The man's expression curdled. He strode toward her, one hand lifting, nails black and jagged.

Now.

Jin Shu tapped Li Xue's back. She drew her glock in a single smooth motion, leveling it at the man's head—

—but sticky silk rained down from above, binding them all before she could fire. In the blink of an eye they were cocooned from head to toe, unable to move.

The man seized the brave disciple by the throat, lifting her high. He turned her head toward the others, his whisper hissing in her ear.

"They're alive. And wrapped in silk. Just as I said."

The girl's face drained of color. "It's… it's only a covering! You can't move them without a spider to—"

"You wench!" His voice cracked with rage. Nails dug into her neck, blood seeping between his fingers before—

CRUNCH.

He snapped her neck and cast her limp body aside. She wasn't dead—not yet—but her life was swiftly bleeding away.

"Enough," the man snarled. He flicked a hand.

The broodqueen stepped forward, plasma searing across its fangs like molten fire.

The captives writhed against the silk, but it held fast.

A single drop of plasma fell. It struck the threads, igniting blue fire that raced across the silk, spreading toward them all.