Stumbling Up: A Loser's Guide to Progression - Chapter 9: On Immortality

I wasn't a genius at reading slug emotions, but the more Richard smiled at me, the less convinced I was that he'd survive his plan. It was a terrible plan. He'd made it to the spruce, and every couple of inches, he looked back with an attempt at a reassuring smile.

This wasn't what I wanted. To start my career as an [Adventurer] by running away. By killing my animal companion. Even if a slug wasn't ideal, he was still my slug.

"I think I can help. I have a skill that might make the entire webbing collapse on him," Tandy said thoughtfully.

How was that going to help?

"Thanks, Tandy," I muttered as she unbelievably took Richard's side on executing this 'plan.'

I'm immortal. Besides, you can get a less sarcastic companion if I die.

The spider was sitting at the center of the campsite, spinning out its web, utterly ignorant of the approaching deranged slug.

"You're not immortal," my chest tightened, "I don't want a different companion. Just because you're not what I would have chosen doesn't mean you're not welcome."

We both know you'd rather I were something else. This is your chance.

The words stung. I didn't know what to say; the truth hurt. Richard left a long, slimy trail that glowed faintly yellow in the campfire light. A pang of guilt wriggled in my chest. Perhaps I had made the dire wolf joke a few too many times in the day we'd known each other.

Last words? I'm going to unhook this widowmaker in a moment.

I didn't know what to say, so I said nothing, like a coward.

Richard had reached an anchor for the spider's trap. A thick glob of her glue sank into the tree trunk. He looked back, giving me a toothy grin before turning and chomping on the glowing anchor.

The widowmaker paused as the thread vibrated. A drip of red ichor dropped from its fangs, falling into the fire. The goo flared with a loud pop. The glue was flammable.

Richard paused in his gnawing, hoping the spider would ignore him. She watched, head tilted in confusion. Probably wondering what a bright yellow banana slug was doing picking a fight with her. Another glue droplet pooled on her fang before raining down into the fire. A bright flare brightened the campsite with another loud pop.

Inspiration hit me like a hammer, "Do it! Break the anchor! Tandy, use your skill when it breaks!" I shouted, almost instantly regretting my decision as Tandy looked at me, horrified. I could see it in her eyes. She didn't think her skill would work. I'd just doomed us all.

Richard didn't hesitate. He gnawed with renewed vigor, snapping his teeth down on the bundle of threads. Filaments twanged as they broke, and any question the widowmaker had about Richard's intent evaporated. Her long, spindly legs pulled her abdomen off the web nexus, and she raced towards Richard's position.

As she began to move, Richard, the hopefully Immortal Banana Slug, triggered the trapping magic. The web structure launched at him, wrapping him in an immobilizing grip. The widowmaker descended to examine her catch. Richard struggled as the filaments squeezed him. I'd risked everything on this moment, and I suddenly wasn't sure it'd been the right call.

"Here goes nothing." Tandy's voice was strained as she summoned one of her skills with a shout, "[Tighten the Weave]!"

The air vibrated as though fighting the skill. Tandy's face was taut with strain.

Nothing. Sweat glistened on Tandy's face. My plan was backfiring. I frantically looked around, trying to think of something I could do.

"Work, you useless skill!" She shouted at the system. Every line of Tandy's face was edged with determination, "[TIGHTEN THE WEAVE]!"

The air quivered again. This time, she reached for the webbing above our heads. Her finger glowed a molten copper as it made contact with the threads. The world snapped as her magic took hold, streaking across the webbing.

As Richard struggled, the entire web structure snapped shut on him. The webbing collapsed into a tangled ball, and Richard and the widowmaker struggled to free themselves. Ched's cocoon dropped as all the supporting anchors vanished. He hit with a dull, soundless thud.

The spider struggled as bands of filament wrapped over her and Richard's bodies, forming a cocoon of wet, sticky, ever-tightening webbing.

It was my turn to act. I reached for a stick sitting in the fire. Having some immunity to the sticky properties of her webbing, the widowmaker had started to free herself. Several legs were pushing to give her an avenue of attack. She bared her fangs, ready to plunge them into my helpless yellow slug. Richard wriggled ineffectually.

I jumped towards the tangled mess and slapped the fiery embers of my stick into the cocoon.

Whoosh. The sac ignited as though doused in oil. The spider, trapped in its fiery grip, couldn't escape. It writhed and screamed. The spider shimmered, using a skill. It slipped through the fibers, popping out of the cocoon. The widowmaker landed feet first, with teeth bared, she snarled. Rearing up on her hind legs, burning filaments still clinging to her body, the three stripes on her chest glowed with a menacing power. Her beady eyes locked on me with hatred. I braced for her attack.

Just as she launched, Leo flew in with Ched's axe. He buried it squarely through the spider's head. The swing broke through her carapace, causing her ichor-producing organs to be exposed to the fire. If Leo hadn't killed her himself, her body immolating before our eyes as the ichor exploded finished her off.

The three of us watched as her bodyless legs twitched. I swatted at a floating ember of her husk as we got credit for the kill.

[Widowmaker defeated. You have earned experience. Further details and reward will be aggregated and awarded upon [Trial Dungeon] completion.]

"Did we just kill a real monster and live to talk about it?" Leo asked, grinning as he tried to pull Ched's axe out of the corpse.

"I hope so," I knelt by the tangled bundle of webbing. As I examined it, trying to figure out how to get to Richard, the glow from the widowmaker's magic faded. The burnt cocoon began disintegrating as I searched for Richard. Frantically, I dug, where was Richard? Flames still moved through the layers of webbing, racing through the layers. Dread began to eat at my stomach as I had to slow down, or get burned. The air reeked of burnt hair and smouldering silk.

"Richard, you in there?" I didn't try to hide the panic in my voice. Like it or not, I cared about the slug. Finally, I hit something solid. I held my breath. Was he dead? Did I kill him by setting everything ablaze?

Edges of the filament glowed red, eating at the last layers. A faint yellow shone through.

The cocoon slowly eased as four smug tentacles poked out. Another pulse, and Richard slithered out from under the last layers. He looked dry and charred, but whole. I couldn't erase the relieved grin on my face.

How'd you know I wasn't going to immolate with the spider? Maybe I'm just immune to its venom.

"Calculated risk. Weren't you going to sacrifice yourself anyway?" I wiped sweat from my eyes, waiting as his outrage grew. "Besides, everyone knows banana slugs are resistant to fire. You were practically sleeping in the fire pit."

"Did he make it?" Leo and Tandy had joined me.

They’d prioritized Ched’s cocoon. Cutting through it, they’d confirmed he was still alive. He was still trussed up, leaning against a tree, dazed but whole. Richard was everyone’s concern now.

"He did," I said, cradling the singed mollusk.

"Good boy," Leo scratched under Richard's chin. It'd been my plan that saved us. Well, our plan. I crushed my indignation.

Richard basked in the affection of the team. They gave him the win. I didn't really mind.

You could have killed me, you know. Resistance to fire doesn't mean immunity. You're just lucky I have a strong resistance.

Tandy held him now, as he rolled so she could scritch his belly. His mental voice had a fake outrage as he leaned into Tandy’s attention.

"A good cook doesn't burn their dinner."

Richard gave a mental sigh.

You're going to be the death of me.

The acrid smell of burnt webbing hung in the air. I’d made the right move for the first time in years.

With a rakish grin, I called his bluff, "I thought you were immortal?"

The slug sat up in Tandy's hand, using a tentacle to flick a glowing ember off his back.

Immortality is relative.