A sword passed millimeters from his cheek, the cold edge brushing against his skin, leaving a whisper of danger. Mason flinched instinctively, the dust-filled air making it hard to breathe, but the presence of that force pressing him against the maid's shoulder gave him no room to react.
"You're persistent," the maid said, her voice smooth but sharp, almost mocking. "But your friends aren't here to save you."
Mason's mind raced. His companions—where were they? He couldn't see past the lingering smoke and floating debris. Every instinct screamed at him to struggle, but a small voice in the back of his head reminded him: he had no idea just how strong she was. The same elf who had trailed them since the inn, who had ambushed them without warning, now carried him like he weighed nothing.
"Wait—why are you doing this?" he asked, trying to keep his voice steady.
"You should know better than to ask that, dear." She chuckled, a low, almost teasing sound. "Some things are better experienced than explained."
Mason tried to wriggle free, but her grip didn't falter. The sheer power in her arms made him realize something terrifying: this was no ordinary maid. She wasn't even the same type of threat he'd dealt with before; she moved with the confidence of someone who had fought battles he couldn't imagine.
The explosion from the spider corpse still echoed behind them. Dust settled slowly, revealing the chaos that had erupted in the cavern. Mason's companions were nowhere in sight—he could barely make out shadows of movement in the distance. Another mother spider? That explained why the girls hadn't tried to fight back; they were occupied.
"You'll see your friends soon enough," the maid said, reading his thoughts—or maybe just enjoying the fear in his eyes. "But first… let's talk about your little system."
"My system?" Mason asked, trying to mask the panic creeping into his voice.
"Yes," she said, her smile sharp enough to cut glass. "The one that lets you steal powers, level up, and play hero. Dangerous things in the wrong hands… or in your hands, for that matter."
He clenched his fists, feeling the tension coil inside him. "I don't know what you mean. I only use it to protect people."
"Ah, noble words." She tilted her head. "But noble doesn't mean strong enough. Do you know why I followed you?"
Mason shook his head, keeping his eyes fixed on hers.
"Because, dear Mason, your little adventure isn't over. Not until I say so. And right now, the only thing standing between you and… well, let's call it a very painful situation, is me."
Swoosh. Another sword passed so close that Mason could feel the vibration in the air. He instinctively ducked, even while being carried.
The maid laughed softly, like she had expected him to move. "Careful now, don't make me angry. I'm not as gentle as the princess."
Mason froze. That name. Princess. He remembered the night she had saved him, the tiny heroic figure that had seemed so fragile. Could it be that this maid was in some way connected to her? Or was it all part of the trap?
"Why… why are you doing this?" Mason asked again, more forcefully this time.
"Because some debts must be paid," she said simply. Her pace increased, stepping over rubble, weaving through the smoke like a shadow. "And some people… must learn their place."
The cavern opened into a wider chamber, faint torchlight illuminating jagged rocks and puddles of water. Mason's heart sank as he saw the remnants of a fight—broken weapons, scorched ground, the faint outlines of his friends' footprints. They were here. They had been fighting.
"Stop!" he yelled, struggling, but the maid only laughed. "No need to shout. Soon, you'll understand everything."
Suddenly, a shadow darted across the floor. One of the girls. Mason's eyes widened. "That's—!" he started, but the maid twisted, swinging him around to keep him balanced.
"Pathetic," she muttered. "Trying to rescue someone who can't even see."
Mason's mind raced. He had to act. He had to find a way to turn the tables. But what? She was too strong, too fast, too… perfect.
Another roar echoed from the corner of the chamber—another mother spider. Mason's heart leapt. His companions were still alive. They were fighting. And maybe, just maybe, he could use that chaos to his advantage.
"Listen to me," he said, trying to sound braver than he felt. "If you let me go, I'll make a deal. No tricks. I'll leave, and you won't have to… hurt anyone."
The maid paused, the corner of her mouth twitching. "Oh, I don't do deals, dear. I do results."
She turned sharply, charging toward the next corridor with Mason still in her arms. He barely had time to brace himself. Dust flew in his face, rocks crumbling under her feet, the cavern vibrating with every step.
Mason's eyes darted to the shadows behind her. His friends were still alive, still fighting. Maybe if he could signal them… if he could just survive long enough…
A flicker of memory came to him: the potion she had mentioned. She had used a potion to create another mother spider. That meant she had magic. Real magic. Not just strength. Not just skill. Magic.
And magic could be countered.
Mason gritted his teeth. "Then it's time to learn," he whispered to himself, summoning the courage that had carried him this far.
As they neared the end of the corridor, the maid finally slowed, lowering him just enough for his feet to touch the ground. The sudden shift threw him off balance, but it also gave him a chance.
In one swift motion, Mason tapped into his system, feeling the familiar surge of power as he reached out—not to fight, but to touch, to steal strength, even if only for a moment. His hand brushed hers, and a jolt of energy surged into him.
The maid stiffened, eyes widening in surprise. Mason smiled grimly. "You're not the only one with tricks."
Her expression hardened, but for the first time, Mason saw hesitation. And hesitation… was enough.
He bolted toward the shadows where his companions were still fighting. Behind him, the maid cursed, her voice echoing through the cavern.
"Run, dear Mason… but don't think this is over."
Mason didn't look back. Every step was fueled by desperation, anger, and the faint glimmer of hope. His friends were alive. He had survived. And somehow, against impossible odds, he was going to turn this night into a victory.
Because no matter how strong she was… he wasn't about to give up.