The Dark Mage Of The Magus World-Chapter 81 - 82: The Mammoth

The more Hutson thought about it, the more convinced he became—this place must belong to a sorcerer, or perhaps an entire coven.

The sheer abundance of alchemical plants, meticulously cultivated fields, and the sinister entities lurking within the town’s houses suggested deliberate curation. These were not random occurrences. They were part of a system—one designed for harvesting rare magical materials or sustaining the practice of forbidden arts.

"This land falls under the jurisdiction of the Aruf Marshes... Could it be their doing?" Hutson mused.

He sighed. Speculating was useless. The Aruf Marshes maintained a relatively stable relationship with the Moonlight Woodlands, but that meant little to low-ranking sorcerer apprentices like himself. If discovered, he would be treated no differently than an intruder—exterminated without hesitation.

Hutson stood, surveying the alchemical flora around him. He began carefully selecting and harvesting the most valuable materials.

Many of the plants were unfamiliar to him, but he had a method of identifying their worth.

Energy particles—high-grade alchemical ingredients always exuded a denser concentration of energy. By honing his perception, he could distinguish the superior materials from the common ones.

He worked quickly, gathering as much as he could.

Then he heard it.

A disturbance in the distance.

Hutson stilled, crouching low in the field. His eyes darted toward the source of the noise.

Beyond the fields lay a barren plain—an expanse so desolate it seemed unnatural. Not a single blade of grass grew upon its surface.

Then, without warning, the ground cracked open. Something immense began to rise from the depths.

A colossal white bone emerged from the soil, breaking free from its underground prison.

"ROOOOAAAARRR!"

A deep, resonant bellow echoed through the night. The very air trembled with the weight of the sound.

The bone, still partially buried, pushed further upward, revealing its full form.

Hutson’s breath caught in his throat as the monstrous figure finally emerged—a complete mammoth skeleton, towering three stories tall.

At its skull’s center, a green flame flickered to life, burning with an eerie intensity.

Hutson knew what it was.

"A necrotic beast. A revenant of bone and spirit."

A bitter smirk tugged at his lips. The term "undead creature" never sat right with me. In my native tongue, ’creature’ implies life, yet these beings defy that very concept.

"Does possessing a soul make something alive?"

He had no time to ponder philosophy.

The mammoth’s hollow eye sockets locked onto him.

It had seen him.

Hutson reacted instantly, invoking the Blessing of the Wind Sprites. A surge of energy coursed through his limbs as he spun and bolted.

Behind him, the mammoth gave chase.

Then something unexpected happened.

The skeletal behemoth, once charging with earth-shaking force, suddenly slowed as it neared the alchemical fields. Its enormous feet hesitated at the edges of the cultivated land, stepping carefully—almost delicately—onto the narrow paths between the rows of plants.

It knew not to trample the crops.

Hutson’s mind raced. "This thing was trained. Conditioned. It recognizes the value of these fields."

But the constraints of the narrow paths worked in his favor. The mammoth, unable to charge at full speed, was forced into a sluggish, measured pace.

Hutson did not waste the opportunity.

He sprinted toward open ground, choosing a path that would take him as far from both the beast and the fields as possible.

"Please, let me not end up where I did at the foot of the mountain..."

That was his greatest fear—losing his sense of direction and suddenly finding himself back in peril. If he miscalculated and ran straight into the mammoth’s path, it would all be over.

No shield could withstand that kind of force. One stomp would shatter him into pulp.

Clearing the fields, he found himself at the edge of a pine forest. The trees stood tall and thick, their needles rustling ominously in the wind.

Hutson slowed his pace.

New territory meant new dangers.

Something felt off.

His eyes narrowed. "So many webs..."

Vast sheets of silken strands stretched between the trees, their sheer quantity unsettling. The ground, too, was coated in a dense layer of white threads.

His expression darkened.

"Something this massive... only a magic-tier spider could weave such a web."

And magic-tier spiders were never easy foes.

A bellow from behind reminded him of his pursuer.

The mammoth had cleared the fields. Its soulless gaze remained locked onto Hutson.

"I can’t go into the forest."

Instinct screamed at him—this was a death trap.

The forest harbored creatures potentially more dangerous than the mammoth itself. If he entered, he would be caught between the skeletal juggernaut and whatever lurked within those webs.

He had only one option.

A desperate one.

Veering right, he circled the outskirts of the forest, maintaining a careful distance from the webbed expanse.

But the mammoth had gained speed. The moment it exited the restrictive farmlands, it charged.

A deafening crack echoed through the night as the undead beast plowed through the pine trees.

The force of its movement sent shockwaves through the forest.

And the forest... reacted.

A sickening, rustling sound filled the air.

Hutson risked a glance over his shoulder.

The trees were crawling with movement.

Then, from the depths of the forest, they emerged.

Spiders. 𝙧𝙚𝙚𝔀𝒆𝓫𝓷𝙤𝓿𝒆𝙡.𝒄𝙤𝓶

Dozens. No—hundreds.

Each over a meter long, their glossy carapaces gleaming under the pale moonlight.

Hutson’s blood ran cold.

This wasn’t just a nest.

This was a colony.

And these were just the young.

If the smaller spiders were this numerous, then somewhere deeper in the forest, their queen waited.

A monstrous mother-spider, ancient and venomous beyond measure.

"The venom and silk from a queen like that... worth a fortune. This is definitely another sorcerer’s breeding ground."

Hutson exhaled sharply. At least the spiders weren’t coming for him.

Not yet.

Instead, they swarmed toward the mammoth.

It had disturbed their domain.

Hutson took a step back.

"Lucky escape?"

Perhaps.

But he wasn’t foolish enough to linger and find out.

The mammoth skeleton was a force of destruction, its colossal form unstoppable. Every stomp of its bony foot crushed spiders into pulp, their shattered bodies bursting into vile green ichor. With a single swing of its massive tusks, it sent an entire wave of arachnids flying, their fragile limbs snapping like twigs upon impact.

And yet, the spiders did not stop coming.

They poured from the forest’s depths like a living tide, an endless horde of chittering, skittering bodies. Hundreds. Thousands. More.

Before long, the mammoth’s skeletal frame was swarming with them. They clambered over its legs, its ribs, its towering spine, moving with nightmarish speed.

The undead beast thrashed wildly, crashing through the pine forest like a berserk war machine. It struck out blindly, smashing through tree trunks, its roars hollow and enraged.

But the spiders had the advantage.

The ground was thick with webs, layers of them woven into an almost inescapable trap. Every move the mammoth made left glowing green stains upon the forest floor—the remains of the countless spiders it had crushed.

Hutson did not stay to watch.

He turned and ran.

Behind him, a sudden crash shook the earth.

Then came a piercing scream—a sound Hutson had never imagined an undead creature could make.

His instincts screamed at him to keep moving, but curiosity won. He risked a glance over his shoulder.

The mammoth had fallen.

Its towering form collapsed, its skeletal body now cocooned in shimmering silver strands.

At first, it resisted—its sheer size allowing it to snap some of the webs restraining it. But for every thread it broke, a thousand more took its place. The spider silk was no ordinary webbing—it was unyielding, enchanted, unbreakable.

Within moments, the giant was fully bound.

And then, the spiders began to drag it away.

They moved as one, hauling the massive, still-struggling carcass deeper into the forest. Their grotesque, methodical movements sent a chill down Hutson’s spine.

"They’re... hunting? Even bone is prey to them?"

The thought unsettled him. What use did these creatures have for a skeleton? Were they going to consume it? Store it? Reanimate it for their own purposes?

It didn’t matter. Hutson had no interest in finding out.

Then, as if they had heard his thoughts—

The spiders stopped.

Every single one.

Their writhing swarm froze, their unholy ritual interrupted.

And then—as one—they turned.

All of them.

Hutson’s blood ran cold.

"Oh, you have got to be kidding me."

Their many gleaming black eyes locked onto him.

He knew what that meant.

The Queen had spoken.

The horde had a new target.

And it was him.