Level Up The Colony
Chapter 77: Dead

Chapter 77: Dead

Just then, a figure shot into the air, or rather levitated, her presence blazing like a torch in the dark.

She wore a flowing red dress that shimmered like flames, Timothy couldn’t quite tell if it was truly on fire or just enchanted to appear so.

Her crimson hair matched the intensity of her outfit, and a small salamander rested calmly on her shoulder.

Helen had assumed the form he remembered, elegant, commanding, and otherworldly.

She flew toward him, who at that moment, was clinging to the trunk of a massive tree, a machete buried into its bark supporting his weight.

He leaned against the tree to reduce the strain on his arms, but the position was far from comfortable.

Timothy barely spared her a glance, his gaze fixed instead on the monstrous spider.

His thoughts were racing, he didn’t need to kill it alone.

He just needed to get close enough to cut Gray loose and keep him out of sight.

If Helen could buy him even a few seconds, it would be enough.

Times like this made him desperately wish for a decent long-range ability.

"You don’t seem too thrilled to have help," Helen remarked coolly.

Timothy didn’t answer at first.

After quickly calculating the odds, he turned to her and flashed a sharp smile.

"Help me distract it."

She looked like she was about to respond, but he was already moving.

Without warning, Timothy launched himself from the tree, a gust of wind brushing Helen’s face and sending her hair whipping backward.

Her eyes widened at the sudden burst of speed.

’since when did he move like a rabbit on fire?’ She thought to herself.

Unbeknownst to her, Timothy had withdrawn the machete from the trunk and activated both augmentation and armament on his feet, one foot coated in the blackened aura granted by his scarf, the other glowing faintly in blue-green light.

Normally, he wouldn’t attempt such a maneuver on solid surfaces, but the tree’s trunk was abnormally sturdy.

Plus his balance was slightly off, he wasn’t used to the augmented leg

His machete, even with armament, had only managed to dig two inches into the bark.

It had held his weight not from sheer depth, but because the tree had tried to heal around the foreign object.

He had timed it perfectly.

As soon as he ripped the machete free, the energy from both enhancements surged into his legs, and he kicked off like a compressed spring.

The moment he left the tree, he deactivated armament to preserve energy.

The tree didn’t even creak under the release, a testament to its unnatural durability.

But the spider had anticipated him.

As he came at her in a straight line, she spat out two more streams of caustic gastric fluid in his direction.

He was ready.

Timothy didn’t intend to charge straight into the spider.

He just needed to get close enough to latch onto a web line she wasn’t currently on.

With his scarf now only half its normal length, it would be a close call.

Too close.

But then came salvation, literal fire from the side.

A stream of flame cut through the air, intercepting the acidic liquid and incinerating it mid-air.

The smoldering droplets fell harmlessly to the forest floor.

He glanced to the side and caught Helen’s smirk.

The fiery tomboy looked thoroughly pleased with herself.

He could’ve used the momentum to push even farther, but he felt the speed draining from his limbs.

He needed to latch onto something now.

Timothy twisted midair, flinging his scarf out to catch a thread.

Despite being thinner than usual, the scarf wrapped around the web and held firm.

He let out a breath of relief.

Below him, Helen had already engaged the spider, throwing bursts of fire in every direction as she tried to cook it alive.

Timothy pulled on the thread, swinging himself forward, moving from line to line.

To his surprise, Gray’s cocoon had shifted again, now nearly at the center of the web.

He hadn’t noticed it moving before, but the spider had subtly been repositioning it while spinning new threads and reinforcing her nest.

Thankfully, the cocoon now dangled near the center of the dungeon chamber, meaning he had a relatively open path.

He pushed forward, leaping, swinging, crawling, drawing closer to the cocoon with each motion.

He was just a stone’s throw away when a voice rang out:

"Tim!"

His instincts screamed.

Something was coming.

He didn’t need to look to know, something heavy was swinging straight at him like a pendulum.

Only one thing could do that.

The spider.

She was obsessed, and he didn’t know why.

But right now, he had two options: swing up or swing down.

Neither would get him to Gray in time.

He made his decision.

Mid-swing, he summoned his machete again and hurled it toward the thread holding the cocoon.

The throw, empowered by both scarf and armament, wasn’t intended to kill, it was a desperate, precise strike to sever Gray from the web.

If he missed now, getting back to this position might be impossible.

The others couldn’t fly, and Helen had only bought him limited time.

The machete flew true.

With a twang, the thread snapped, and just as it did, the spider appeared above him, upside down, its grotesque bulk falling with all eight legs extended like spears, ready to crush him.

And then!;;

BAM.

Timothy was slammed midair with brutal force, the spider’s impact jarring every bone in his body.

Pain exploded through him, making his limbs scream in protest.

But the assault didn’t stop there.

The creature continued its pendulum-like swing, dragging him along its arc.

Its hardened carapace was far tougher than steel, and he felt the breath leave his lungs.

Fortunately, the string holding Gray’s cocoon snapped from the force, sending it plummeting toward the ground below.

Timothy didn’t have the luxury of retrieving his machete or scarf.

Both weapons, now inert without armament, trailed uselessly behind him as he struggled in the spider’s grasp.

His panic surged not for himself, but for Gray, who was now free-falling to the earth.

He had to act.

Grinding his teeth against the pain, he reached up with his free hand, feeling along the spider’s underbelly.

It was upside down, and if his collision had done any damage, it had to be there.

Plus he doubted she had easily healed that injury.

His fingers grazed a jagged tea, likely from Helen’s earlier attacks, where the chitinous armor had broken off.

Without hesitation, he plunged his fingers into the raw, half-healed wound.

The spider shrieked a high-pitched screech that echoed through the cavern and immediately threw him off its body.

Good.

He had what he needed.

Using the momentum, Timothy angled himself into a sharp dive, aiming for Gray’s cocoon.

The air screamed around him as he dropped like a stone, gravity becoming both his ally and enemy.

The cocoon, though initially fast, had begun to slow due to drag.

Lightweight and wrapped tightly, it drifted now in free fall.

He had a chance.

He streamlined his body, spreading his arms to reduce speed.

In one fluid motion, he recalled the scarf and machete, catching them midair and instantly storing them in his inventory.

Gray was just within reach now, mere meters separated them, but so was the ground, covered in thorned vines and jagged debris.

He had one trick left.

One last move to save them both.

Then it happened.

A thin strand of web shot from above and gently latched onto the cocoon.

Timothy’s eyes widened in horror.

He’d noticed it too late.

No!

The word roared in his mind as he stretched out in vain.

The cocoon jerked upward, yanked from its descent and back into the spider’s waiting mandibles.

Helpless, he looked up to see Helen collapsed against a wall high in the dungeon wall of webbing, sweat pouring down her face.

She met his gaze and tried to move, but instead collapsed again, coughing violently.

Her energy was spent.

The others were already grounded.

No one could fly.

He could only watch as Gray’s cocoon was drawn higher, the spider’s six gleaming eyes locked on him.

With a sickening motion, she tilted her head and swallowed the cocoon whole.

Just like that, Gray was gone.

A deep, burning pain welled in Timothy’s chest.

His fists clenched mid-air, the rage in his veins boiling over.

If this had been a person, he would’ve indulged every vengeful instinct.

But it wasn’t.

It was a monster.

And it had made a mistake.

The ground rushed up to meet him.

He twisted his body slightly at the last second, minimizing the impact, but the force of the fall still thundered through the clearing like a bomb.

Dust exploded on impact.

Debris shot outward.

The ground cracked beneath him.

Everyone turned in shock.

Eyes wide, they stared at the center of the dust cloud, struggling to see through the haze.

"...Is he dead?" Prisca whispered, her voice trembling.