Chapter 1562 – Deep Tribes

Desperate to catch onto something, anything, Zluth flailed wildly, trying to use his arms or foot to grab the walls, except that every time he managed to grab something, it was coated in extremely viscous slime and he couldn’t hold on. He plummeted dozens of metres, mind spinning, before he found himself wrapped up in something soft and sticky.

A web?!

There weren’t many creatures in the fifth who used webbing in their traps, and all of them were dreadful monsters to fall prey to. What could it be? A Trap-fall Matriarch Spider? A Mucus Widow? The dreaded Big Boy Funnel web?

Not wanting to hang around and find out, Zluth began summoning the acid within himself. He would have to burn the webs away using magic, then hope he could escape before the monster came to check. It was a risky strategy, and also the only one available. If he stayed in the webs for even a few minutes, they’d infect him with their paralytic toxin.

“No need for that,” a burbling voice spoke from somewhere above him. “Don’t get too excited, or we might have to feed you to our little pet here.”

Zluth froze in place, not wanting to antagonise this Krath. Slowly, he extended an eye stalk and swivelled it to look behind himself. The drop tunnel was almost perfectly sheer, the walls carefully coated to prevent grabbing, all leading to a thick layer of webbing covering the gap. Above him, looking down with a vicious leer, was a large, sleek Krath male. More intimidating than that was the eight-legged monstrosity standing over the slug. Recognising the colour pattern on his carapace, Zluth shuddered.

“Oh? You know what monster this is?” the Krath grinned.

“Soul-Drinker Orb Weaver,” Zluth replied. “I’m a scout, sent from the Bulg with a message for the Zissth tribe.”

“I don’t recognise you as a Bulg. You aren’t using their skin pattern, and you’ve never run a message down here before. My spider has a particular fondness for liars.”

The monsters leaned forward, iridescent venom dripping from its fangs and a hungry gleam in its eyes.

“No lies!” Zluth said, trying to stifle his panic. “I am Zluth, Krath’lath of the Slee, from far above. I delivered the message to the Bulg, then volunteered to come here when Ulliz couldn’t find a scout willing to deliver during the wave.”

“Volunteered?” the Krath muttered, as if tasting the unfamiliar word in his mouth. “What sort of slug would volunteer to throw their life away in the Dungeon?”

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“One who has seen a vision of the Maker,” Zluth replied softly.

“Maker of Mucus!” the slug exclaimed, slime and goop flying from his mouth. “That claim could land you in worse mouths than my spider here.”

“I know,” Zluth burbled, trying not to move and get himself further tangled. “Theorazzn has given us tasks. Are you going to prevent me from passing them to your Krath’lath?”