So many legs...
In that brief moment, even gods who don't rely on breathing for survival felt suffocated.
The Goddess of Magic stared at Nariteer, convinced that this colossal, spider-like "kindred" was definitely problematic—maybe a chaotic entity born of erroneous thoughts, or perhaps a "near-dead" who's reached the brink of madness. Either way, she ought not to continue her interaction with this spider.
Escaping from the spider's pursuit wasn't about "having fewer legs," a child's excuse, of course. The Goddess of Magic was well aware of this fact; she was simply too weakened and at a disadvantage in this territory.
She had reorganized herself too many times to plan today's audacious action, consciously controlling her "growth" for centuries, akin to a prisoner starving themselves to squeeze through a cage. While her plan succeeded, it also left her weak. Coupled with the disadvantageous territory, it was impossible for her to leave unscathed.
