"My people. You have gathered here before me, on the day of my coronation, to cheer for this victory. To sing praise and weep tears of joy for your new king. But this is not a day of solely joy. I see how you hold fast your sadness, how your tears yearn to turn bitter. And as your new king, I issue forth my first decree unto my citizens: let them.

To crown a new king, the previous one must fall. My father… was not a kind man. He was a poor king, and arguably an even poorer parent. The suffering I received by his hand however was likely nothing more than a pampering next to the sheer horrors he inflicted upon the people.

And yet, many here mourn him. I too mourn him. Despite the sorrow in my heart, I do not regret my actions. I took the crown not out of hatred, not in revenge for his pointless war against my friends the Vanaras, nor even a petty spite towards my tumultuous upbringing. No. I took it for the people.

The kingdom has suffered enough, its once great glory has been reduced to ash through years of mistreatment. But from those ashes, new life can sprout, stronger than ever. And thus, I dub myself: King of Ashes. Let the kingdom grow greater and the people more prosperous under my rule than it ever has!"

-Excerpt of the coronation speech of Prince (now King) Pratius, Sovereign of the Shostran Kingdom

 

---

 

Ashes.

The gray dust was scattered across the dungeon floor by the currents of air that came from the entrance. That very entrance, with its blinding light, brought forth promises of strength to the dungeon’s inhabitants.

Experience. Levels. Evolution.

Death.

Click settled their thorax and abdomen into a small pile of the powdery substance, a testament to their failure, and looked upon the finishing touches of the elongated spherical structure that rose out of it. The wasp hive shaped structure was constructed out of what was originally pristine-white webbing, now speckled with dabs of gray, and stood just suspended off the ground. The walls of the edge of the cave it was built on provided its main structural support while defending it from all points of attack, save for the single narrow passage leading up to it.

It wouldn’t stop another fireball.

The thought popped into Click’s mind, but the spider quickly pushed it away with a shake of their body, which sent ash flying all around them. Out of reflex, Click quickly turned to look over to the metal door at the other end of the cave. From where they stood, it was merely a large spec in the distance, only barely visible thanks to the faint blue glow of the bioluminescent mushrooms that dotted the cavern floor.

They’re gone. Click thought to themself. The door has been closed for weeks, and there’s no sign it’ll open up again anytime soon.

The small arachnid turned back to the remains of their chair and let their mandibles droop in a sigh before finding a new temporary throne.

One threat at a time. No creature in this cave is safe if they ever return, but that’s not my biggest concern right now.

“URRROAAAHHH!!!” came a sharp howl from the distance.

Click jumped at the sudden noise, destroying another ash pile, but grabbed the reins on their shock and ran forward towards the web structure while calling out their Skill.

[Command Subordinates]! Everyone, get into position, incoming threat!

Several eight-legged figures emerged from the sprawling web structure. They skittered forwards, some across the ground and others along the cave walls.

Click, now safe within the web structure, waited until the other spiders were in position before calling for them to stop. Just over a dozen arachnids loomed over the open space between the rocky outcroppings that marked the entrance to their claimed territory.

As they stood ready, the howl merely grew louder, and was joined by two others. Soon, the wielders of the trio of war cries made their way into the clearing, and made themselves known. Each was a quadrupedal creature, covered in fur with long ears and a snout filled with razor sharp teeth.

[Dungeon Hounds].

Wet noses sniffed the air and ground alike, attempting to seek out what their eyes couldn’t in the dimly lit cavern. They finally came to a standstill when they saw the web fortress, but the only move any of them made was to lick their lips, none daring to take another step.

Click regarded them with wary eyes. The hounds were small, definitely of the [Juvenile] variety, but even then they were incredibly diminutive compared to the ones the spiders had fought against before the intruders came.

Eating food makes you big. Click thought, before regarding their own minuscule form. Well, usually. At least with most spiders, and definitely [Dungeon Hounds].

One of the hounds in the group, the one standing to the right and just behind the one in the center, let out a quiet whine while pawing the back of the one in the front. The hound standing to the right kept turning its head between the walls and the way they came. The one at the front, the apparent leader of the group, ignored them and instead had its eyes fixed upon the web structure and the succulent meal inside.

Click could see the hint of intelligence within the leader’s eyes. How it warily took in its surroundings, how carefully it stepped across the spiders’ demesne, how it knew of the death that awaited it for its intrusion. How it knew it was worth the risk.

I know why you’re here, I know you’re desperate, but don’t do it. You know what will happen, and you’ll walk away with nothing.

The [Dungeon Hound] at the front licked its lips and stepped forwards.

Now! Shouted Click in their mind. [Command Subordinates], attack!

The fight didn’t begin with the spiders jumping down from the shadows. Instead, a thin piece of webbing was snipped in between the mandibles of one of the waiting arachnids, a red and blue-colored [Webslinger Spider]. The snipped string was supporting a long, tightly wound coil of silk, placed perfectly so that releasing it would unleash all of its stored kinetic energy.

Several of these connecting strings were cut, and the balled up ends of half a dozen silken whips flew down from the walls and onto the floor where the [Juvenile Dungeon Hounds] stood. They didn’t have enough time to react.

In a flash, the hounds were caught by surprise and reeled back, too stunned by the heavy blows to do anything other than howl out in pain.

That was all the opportunity the remaining half of the spiders needed to finish the job.

Distracted by the blow, the [Juvenile Dungeon Hounds] didn’t see the group of [Shadow Spiders] sneak down from the walls behind them. The hounds’ first and only hint of their presence was the series of vicious bites that quickly followed.

The hounds tried to fight back, turning around towards the source of the pain and biting with all the force their jaws could muster. Desperation to live mixed alongside the hunger that led them to the spiders in the first place, and empowered their bites. Any spiders caught in their jaws would be a meal and a step towards making it out of this alive.

However, their targets were nowhere to be seen, having already sunk into the shadows and making their way back to the edges of the cave.

The damage to the hounds on the left and right of the group was beginning to add up, and the two stumbled back. They took no time afterwards to turn around and run away from the spiders’ territory.

Click was ready to call off the attack, prioritizing the safety of the few remaining spiders over a kill, but quickly stopped.

The third hound, somehow more hungry than it was scared of imminent death, let loose one last yell and charged forwards.

We can’t let it get to the web! Click desperately called upon their Skill to instruct the spiders to stop the [Juvenile Dungeon Hound].

[Webslinger Spiders] immediately began to weave globs of webbing and shoot it with extreme precision at the interloper, while the [Shadow Spiders] charged towards it.

The mounds of loose silk stuck to its fur, and even began to slow it down as it tried to bind the hound to the ground. However, even with how much it was slowed down, it wasn’t enough for the [Shadow Spiders] to catch up to the [Dungeon Hound]’s mad dash. At the rate it was going at, it would reach the structure in five seconds… four, three, two-

A figure even larger than the [Juvenile Dungeon Hound] slammed into the ground right in front of the furred quadruped. Its eight legs shrugged off the impact of the fall and held the figure still as the hound slammed into it and bounced off.

The furred creature tried to bite at the sudden roadblock, intent to get itself a meal some way or another, but was instead met with an even stronger bite to its face. That didn’t discourage the hound, as it tried to instead juke around to get to the webbed structure instead.

A heavy body slammed into the creature’s side and sent it rolling away. Before it could even get back its bearings, the massive arachnid was on it again. The hound tried to fight back once more, throwing another careless bite that missed by a mile as its opponent simply stepped out of the way, and feeling another stinging bite before it could reorient itself.

This went on for several seconds before the [Shadow Spiders] caught up and delivered a series of terrible blows that finished the [Juvenile Dungeon Hound] off for good.

The larger spider looked upon its vanquished prey with an incomprehensible face, but as Click slowly peeked out of the webbed structure, the lead spider could understand what it was feeling.

Disappointment.

Agreed. I thought things would be easier after the intruders left. They killed almost everything in here, so fewer predators, right? But the hounds managed to survive, and the intruders also killed off both of our food sources, so we’re all that’s left for them to eat. It doesn’t have to be like this, it shouldn’t. But it is.

The larger spider poked the hound on the muzzle and jumped back. Seeing as how it wasn’t moving anymore, it slowly walked back and repeated the process.

Or maybe you’re just disappointed you couldn’t get more of a fight out of it? I did name you “Bored” for a reason, after all.

The [Shadow Spiders] and now-arriving [Webslinger Spiders] began to rip through the fur and into the still warm flesh of the hound, gorging themselves on the fresh meal. Even Bored, the larger spider, soon forgot its existential dread and dug its mandibles into the food.

And all we have to eat is them. Not even any flies! Click let their mandibles droop in a sigh while turning back into the webbed structure. They passed through several tunnels and even a false wall before reaching the central chamber.

The soft red glow of hundreds of gel spheres illuminated the hidden chamber. Inside each orb was a primordial speck of black suspended in nurturing fluid, still taking shape into what would very likely become eight legged figures. The sight made Click’s eyes harden in determination, and the spider felt their mandibles and body reflexively straight themselves as they looked upon their responsibility.

Eggs.

A gift from the other survivors. They gave their lives to make you after the intruders left. Our tribe’s future relies on keeping you safe until you hatch, our next generation.

Click blinked their eyes several times before turning around to leave the chamber.

Why do I always get like that when looking at them? The lead spider thought to themself, brushing off the feeling of sentimentality. Must be another instinct, but at least this one isn’t making me charge headfirst into danger. It actually makes sense for once! Especially with how the hounds are able to smell them, even when they’re under all of this protection.

Click soon emerged from the webbed structure and found that the other spiders were already two thirds of the way through the [Dungeon Hound].

Hey, don’t eat it all without me! [Command Subordinates], leave me a bite!