CHAPTER 151: CHAPTER 151: BARBARIAN RAGE

After speaking, Nidalee turned and called over another giant spider, instructing Anno to climb up as well. "Your weapon and equipment should be nearby. You can ride, right? Anyway, ride this to look for them. I’m going to rescue the others."

Anno, cheeks still flushed and her head full of Charles’s praise, finally managed to suppress her tumultuous thoughts, then mounted the giant spider to search for her weapons and equipment...

At that moment, elsewhere, riding a turning giant spider, Andny shone Light throughout the cavern, her wide eyes full of curiosity.

She’d already confirmed Anno’s safety, so she wasn’t particularly interested in her situation. Instead, it was the basketball-sized giant spider eggs that drew her attention.

She directed the giant spider to stop beside the giant eggs and the dead women, then jumped down, crouched, and began searching through the scattered rubble. Eventually, she found a completely intact giant egg.

She cradled the basketball-sized egg in her arms, then pressed her ear close to its shell, listening attentively and using magical power to perceive what was inside.

A moment later, her pupils suddenly contracted. She glanced around, and when she saw no one paying attention, she discretely slipped the giant egg into her Bag of Holding.

With everything settled, she stood and, her magically enhanced gaze scanning through the darkness, swept over Bonnie’s swollen abdomen, her eyes flashing, though she maintained a nonchalant expression as she addressed the others: "Is everyone alright?"

At the far side, Nidalee had just finished cutting the last captive free. Hearing this, she quickly reported: "One female gnome was unfortunately killed in the recent earthquake, but the others are not in mortal danger for the moment."

In truth, even if they were in danger, it was hardly a problem—Nidalee was herself a druid, well-versed in healing spells. As long as someone was not dead, she could likely save them.

Andny nodded. As a witch, the loss of a single life did not move her much. "We can’t stay here. Bring the bodies and their equipment; let’s hurry to find Pri... Priest Charles!"

...

Torun and Charles advanced slowly through the cavern, one before the other—Torun hunched, head down at the front, Charles taking up the rear.

There was no help for it: Torun was simply too tall, and these mine tunnels were much too low. It seriously restricted Torun’s strength, leaving him awkward and frustrated.

As they walked, they exchanged details about their classes and abilities. Torun was a ninth-level Path of the Ancestors barbarian, specializing in brute force, damage resistance, and team protection—a powerful all-around fighter.

Charles didn’t correct Torun’s mistaken impression that he was a paladin who had self-taught magical ability, skilled at both ranged and melee combat.

So, they continued, Torun leading and Charles following, moving deeper into the cavern.

Although Anno’s party had cleared out most of the foes, the cave-in had startled many monsters from deeper within, and the two regularly ran into rushing creatures—sometimes ghouls, sometimes zombies or giant spiders, occasionally even swarms of vampire bats—which they found rather tiresome.

Fortunately, these foes mostly acted alone, so the pressure was low. Charles would fire off four Eldritch Blasts, then Torun would charge in with a few mighty swings of his axe, and they would dispatch the enemies almost unscathed.

During this process, the cooperation between the two grew increasingly seamless. After about half an hour of cautious progress, they finally discovered a rope ladder hanging down, which they climbed to return from the third underground level up to the second.

No sooner had they emerged than they encountered something new.

"Help! Help!"

A faint call echoed from ahead; the voice belonged to a middle-aged man. Fortunately, this cavern was very narrow and, with the tide out, extremely quiet, or else the faint cry for help might not have reached them.

Both men were delighted—they had finally encountered another person. Quickening their pace, they hurried toward the source. Before long, they reached a vast, empty cavern.

Here, Torun could finally stand upright after having been hunched for so long.

In the cavern, the figures of five or six giant spiders stood out. Several had their terrible jaws open as they devoured human corpses. The last spider was attacking a living dwarf.

The dwarven uncle, his face deeply wrinkled, with carrot-colored hair and a thick beard, was beside himself with terror, desperately screaming for help—the very voice Charles and Torun had heard.

On seeing the dwarf, Torun immediately strode forward: "We’re coming, don’t be afraid!"

With his roar, every hair upon his thick hide stood on end; his body seemed to swell, growing even more massive, fierce, and terrifying.

Clearly, he regarded these giant spiders as serious foes and had immediately activated his most powerful state.

This was the core ability of barbarians: by rousing their primal fury and boiling blood, they entered the battle state called "Rage"!

Hearing his bellow, the giant spiders turned toward him. But, out of silk, instead of spitting webs, they opened their eight legs wide to encircle Torun from all directions.

"Die!"

Torun bellowed again, utterly unafraid even though surrounded by giant spiders, and raised his greataxe for a mighty swing.

Now fully upright in his berserk state, he seemed nearly three meters tall—taller than the giant spiders themselves!

The axe came crashing down, its sharp metal edge instantly severing spider legs. Streams of toxin-laced blood spurted, splattering the minotaur’s thick fur and making him appear even more brutal and ferocious.

Such a reckless fighting style, by nature, exposed massive openings. The spiders’ fanged jaws clamped down on him from every side.

But in his rage, the barbarian’s body was as hard as steel. The spiders’ bite force barely tore a few hairs loose—against his flesh, their attacks were superficial at best!

Such was the power of the barbarian—a terrifying, muscle-bound defense in rage that allowed them to ignore most physical attacks. Even magical blades struggled to leave a mark.

And their devastating power could destroy any foe of flesh and blood. In a setting with less magic and where most foes were physical, a barbarian’s strength was nearly unmatched—even rivaling paladins!

At higher levels, against cunning, magic-using enemies, they might struggle, but here, on this battlefield, the barbarian was nearly invincible!

Watching Torun whirl amid the spiders, greataxe cleaving, Charles reflected on how mighty barbarians remained in lower-level battlefields.

If he didn’t help, Torun might slaughter every foe here by himself.

With that in mind, Charles raised his hand, and at a distance, unleashed four Eldritch Blasts—striking four spiders, inflicting pain and stiffness, easing the pressure on Torun so that he wouldn’t suffer too many wounds.

After all, the spiders’ mouthparts were filled with venom, and even if they left Torun only small cuts, the toxin would eventually cause him agony.

With Charles’s support, the minotaur fought with renewed vigor. His greataxe fell again and again, splitting open spiders’ bodies like they were made of butter, taking their lives effortlessly.

Charles unleashed four more Eldritch Blasts, blasting apart another spider’s body.

And with that, the battle was over.

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