Return of the Fallen Nobleman With an SSS-Rank Talent-Chapter 66: Dungeon [2]

Looking at the hideous Rank I monster, Adam took a step back, leaving Zev to face the human-faced tarantula.

He had brought him here precisely for that reason: to confront him with the unknown, to force him to bleed, to move, to think.

His performance in the hallway had made that clear. He had reacted well, but he thought slowly.

He lacked sharpness.

Adam didn’t blame him. It was natural. True experience cannot be learned from books or cultivated.

You win by risking your life.

He leaned against the wall of the room, took an apple out of his leather bag, and began to bite into it calmly. 𝐟𝕣𝕖𝐞𝐰𝕖𝚋𝐧𝗼𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝗰𝐨𝐦

His gaze was not fixed on the creature.

It was fixed on Zev.

He was ready to intervene if his life was truly in danger.

...

Zev, his eyes vacant and his body covered in wounds, was breathing heavily. His fingers, numb and trembling, clenched tightly around the hilt of the sword, feeling the cold metal against his sweaty palm.

He took a few deep breaths to relax his body.

He could sense that Adam would not come to his aid, and now that his head was filled with questions, he did not want to die yet, not until he found an answer.

The human-faced tarantula moved.

Zev barely had time to blink before that thing appeared in front of him. The hairy leg, thick as a tree trunk, rose and unleashed a brutal attack.

Zev’s eyes widened in surprise; despite its size, the creature was too fast! Due to his slow reaction, he could only raise his sword in front of him to block the powerful attack.

CLANG!

The impact resonated in his bones before the sound reached his ears. The sword vibrated in his hands, transmitting the pain to his shoulders. The force of the attack lifted him off the ground like a rag doll.

Before he regained consciousness, he felt only a strange emptiness. His back slammed into the wall; under his weight, it shattered like a spider web. Pain shot through his entire body.

Zev fell to the ground, tasting metal in his mouth; his world reduced to flashes of light and pain.

His eyes moved unconsciously and met Adam’s gaze, who hadn’t moved a muscle while biting into the apple.

What did you expect?

Zev placed his hand on his bent leg and got up with great effort, unable to contain his laughter.

Why did I think he would help me?

Taking the sword, Zev adopted a very awkward stance, full of openings, and fixed his gaze on the tarantula with a human face. A small pool of blood formed beneath his feet.

The sword trembled in his hand. His body was bleeding. His eyes burned. But even so, he did not give up.

Because he knew Adam would not move. He knew that his situation was that of a slave, that if he had no value, he would be discarded.

And if he didn’t fight, he would die. It was that simple.

The tarantula lunged again, its legs echoing on the floor. Zev rolled to the side, his face contorted with pain. Dust clouded his vision, but the buzzing of the legs kept him moving.

As he rolled across the floor, staining it with his blood, his mind, despite the pain, was focused on how to defeat the tarantula. Taking advantage of the momentum, he got up, leaning on one foot.

Sweat and blood ran down his body; despite being so badly injured, he had not made a single attack. Zev looked at the creature wearily.

At that moment, the image of his beloved sister’s face overlapped with the tarantula’s human face. Several memories that had been buried in his mind surfaced.

The tarantula did not waste this opportunity: it moved quickly and launched a powerful attack on its head with one of its eight hairy legs.

Un silbido llegó a sus oídos y Zev abrió los ojos de golpe. Cayó al suelo; la pata pasó a escasos centímetros de su cabeza, e incluso pudo ver los miles de pelos.

He rolled across the floor again, trying to escape while dodging the multiple attacks from the different legs, and got up once more.

Now his vision was blurring from exhaustion and blood loss.

Every breath burned Zev’s lungs, but even so, in this brief respite between attacks, he managed to regain some strength. His bruised and burning muscles protested with every movement.

The tarantula, its human face contorted with rage, hissed gutturally. Its hairy legs drummed against the ground, marking a frantic rhythm.

Although its attacks were swift and brutal, the creature also showed signs of fatigue: its movements were no longer as precise, its attacks lost their synchronization. But even so, its endurance far exceeded Zev’s.

The room, once stained only by dust and decay, now had large splatters of dark, almost black blood spreading like cobwebs across the floor.

The metallic, rotten smell was so thick that Zev could taste it on his tongue.

He adjusted his stance, planting his feet firmly on the sticky ground, and held his breath. He had devised a plan, a desperate move. He didn’t know if it would work, but it was his only chance.

"KYYEE!!"

The tarantula didn’t keep him waiting. With a piercing screech, it lunged forward, this time with more violence, more impatience. Its frustration made it reckless. Its eight legs moved in a whirlwind, a rain of sharp points seeking to pierce, tear, and turn Zev into another stain on the floor.

It was almost impossible to dodge. One leg grazed his side, opening a new wound of pain in his already bruised skin. Another grazed his throat, enough to leave a trickle of warm blood running down his neck.

Then...

Zev saw an opportunity amid the flurry of attacks. A small mistake. He attacked the creature like a dying man.

The sword screeched as it sliced through the air, then flesh.

One of its legs snapped off from its body with a repulsive crack. Black blood spurted like a fountain.

The tarantula screamed, not in pain but in rage, recoiling as if it had lost more than just a limb.