Chapter 451: Hello, Mrs. Spider.

The territory was vast.

Vergil had walked less than thirty meters since crossing the first silk threads, and already seemed to be completely surrounded by that cathedral of webs. It was like walking inside a suspended bubble—the whole world seemed to have been enveloped by a viscous membrane of white threads, thick as mummified tentacles.

The branches above formed a tight ceiling, distorting even the light. No sound of birds. No wind. Not even his whistle escaped properly — the web seemed to absorb sound like a hungry tomb.

“Wow,” Vergil muttered sarcastically. “It’s more suffocating than a family dinner.”

Zuri, still wrapped around his neck, narrowed her eyes. “It’s literally suffocating, idiot. This is an ecological-scale trap. You should be more concerned about—”

Vergil ignored her completely, stopping in front of a thick wall of intertwined threads. He snapped his fingers. A small flame appeared in his palm, flickering with hellish heat, and took shape, swirling as if it had a life of its own. In seconds, he had created a rudimentary fire spear, its flames dancing in black and orange spirals.

“Oh, this again…” Zuri rolled her eyes. “Are you going to stick that in the forest now? Can’t you, like, wait and see if the spiders are diplomatic?”

Vergil swung the spear and began cutting through the web with humiliating ease. The smell of burning silk spread, thick, mixed with a slight odor of old meat.

“Zuri,” he replied, smiling with false patience, “if a web monster is diplomatic, I swear I’ll invite it for tea.”

“I bet your definition of tea involves Greek fire and existential threats.”

“Exactly.”

He continued to clear the way, carefully burning the threads, attentive to the movements of his surroundings—but still with the same calmness of someone walking through a street market.

That’s when it happened.

Zuri, who until then had been visibly nervous, suddenly let out a confused “Huh?”

A small thing—white, furry, with round black eyes—was slowly crawling up Vergil’s boot. It had eight delicate legs and was the size of a thick book, like a collector’s edition of The Lord of the Rings with a hard cover.

“Look,” said Zuri with a slight enchantment in her voice, “it’s a little puppy. She’s actually kind of cute…”

CRACK!

The sound was sharp. Vergil’s boot came down with the ease of someone crushing a grape.

The spider turned into a shapeless mass of slime and twisted legs, splattering a white, foul-smelling liquid to the side. Zuri froze for a second, open-mouthed, staring from the goo to Vergil.

“VERGIL?!”

“Instinct,” he replied with the same expression as someone who had killed a cockroach in the kitchen. “It was on my leg. I have no control over that part of my brain.”

“IT WASN’T ATTACKING YOU!”

“It was a spider. In a forest of webs. In a place that stinks of death. I didn’t even think, I just did it.”

Zuri clicked her tongue. “You have the charisma of a missile, you know that?”

Vergil just shrugged, pushing more webs aside with his flaming spear. “It came to me. Have you never seen a cockroach wanting affection?”

“That was a baby!”

“Then let the mother come and sue me.”

Zuri muttered something about “making bad choices in life partners and I hope you don’t crush little snakes” and wrapped herself more tightly around his neck as if preparing for the storm to come. Vergil just kept going, unconcerned, leaving behind the sticky corpse of the baby.

And the universe, as always, responded.

The silence became… denser.

The air cooled, and the smell changed again. From old meat to something more acidic—like poison evaporating in the heat.

Zuri stopped complaining.

“What is it?” Vergil asked, looking out of the corner of his eye.

“Didn’t you feel it?” she whispered, her eyes narrowed. “Something… woke up.”

Vergil smiled. “There’s the mother.”

“YOU’RE SMILING?!”

“Of course. Didn’t you want diplomacy? Let’s see if she speaks common.”

“If she speaks, it’ll be ‘slow death with poison in the eyes’!”

A sound ran across the ground like a low vibration, as if a huge drum had been played underground. At some point, something stirred the trees. Webs began to sway without any wind. Pieces of old cocoons fell from the branches like rotten fruit. And in the shadows… something glowed.

Eyes. Many.

“How many legs do you think she has?” Vergil asked casually, preparing his fire spear.

“More than I have patience for you, that’s for sure,” Zuri replied, trembling. “You crushed her baby. In a forest of webs. Do you know what that means?!”

“It means,” Vergil said with a sinister smile, “that now it’s personal.”

Zuri choked. “You really are sick…”

But even she couldn’t help a slight gleam in her eyes. Despite the danger, there was something… exciting. The thrill of the unknown. The growing sound of something colossal approaching, the wires swaying as if they had a life of their own. A hunt was about to begin.

And Vergil, as always, was ready.

With the fire spear spinning in his hand, he took his position. The footsteps of the creature—or creatures—were getting closer. The ground shook. And for the first time since they had set foot in that corrupted forest, there was a real sense of urgency in the air.

“Come on, then,” he said into the darkness, with a merciless smile. “Let’s see if your web is strong enough to hold Hell.”

And then… the first thread snapped with a crack.

Something gigantic was moving among the trees.

Zuri closed her eyes.

“I hate my life.”

Vergil, of course, was laughing.

The snap of the thread turned into a deep creak, like a door to Hell itself opening. The trees ahead bent as if something immense was passing between them, forcing its way through with a heavy drag that shook the ground.

Zuri stuck her snout under Vergil’s collar, trying to hide. “Let me know when it’s safe. Or when you die. Whichever comes first.”

“Relax,” he said, twirling the spear between his fingers with the confidence of a madman. “It’s just a protective mother. I bet she wants to talk.”

More webs snapped with whipping sounds. A grotesque leg, covered in black plates like obsidian and bristling with needle-like hairs, emerged from the darkness. It was the diameter of a mature tree. Soon another appeared, and then another—eight in total, each moving with lethal precision and monstrous elegance.

Then she appeared.

The giant spider, mother of the crushed chick, emerged from the shadows with flaming eyes and jaws foaming a shiny liquid that melted the leaves beneath her. Her body was immense, the size of a two-story house, and covered with old scars. On her back, dozens of shimmering eggs pulsed like diseased hearts.

Zuri’s eyes widened. “She’s got a backpack full of babies! You killed one, and now she’s going to spit acid in your eyes until you’re soup!”

Vergil just gave a low whistle. “Pretty lady. I imagine you’re… upset.”

The creature crouched down, lowering its body to the ground. Its fangs trembled, dripping a viscous thread of venom that evaporated in the air. Its eyes—many, many eyes—fixed on Vergil with an ancient hatred.

Vergil raised his spear.

“I’ll give diplomacy a try,” he said, clearing his throat. “O mighty and loving mother of spiders, whose son was trampled by mistake—welcome to my presence. I would like to—”

SPLAAASH!!

A jet of venom was spat directly at him.

Vergil spun to the side, using his spear as support and throwing himself to the ground, rolling away from the impact. The venom struck a tree, instantly dissolving it in a bubbling squeal.

“Tough negotiator!” he shouted, laughing.

Zuri, still clinging to his neck, was now practically shaking. “She wants to rip your soul out through your mouth!”

“Then she’ll have to get closer.”

The spider advanced.

It was like watching a nightmare come to life—each step sank into the ground, crushing roots and making the entire forest creak. Vergil ran, not to escape, but to lure the creature into a nearby clearing. He wanted space to move, to dance, to fight.

“Do you have a plan?” asked Zuri, trying to follow his leap from tree to tree with her eyes.

“Of course.”