The next three days passed in a blur of sweat, adrenaline, and the rhythmic *thud* of the axe.
The "Rust-Bloom Weaver" spider was only the beginning. Once Ren realized the fog receded with every kill—clearing the map just by removing threats—he had thrown himself into the grind.
He was careful. He never stepped more than five meters past the shimmering blue barrier. He used hit-and-run tactics. Lure the spider out, ambush it with an axe to the thorax, retreat to safety, loot.
The result was terrifyingly effective.
**[Agility: 15]**
**[Strength: 20]**
**[Physique: 18]**
Ren was no longer just a normal human. At 20 Strength, he could cleave through the exoskeleton of the giant spiders with a single blow. He moved faster, his reactions sharp enough to pluck arrows out of the air—though he hadn't tested that theory yet.
But his subjects were falling behind.
"My Lord," Elara said, her voice tired but steady as she mixed a batch of mud mortar. "The wall is raised to waist height. It is sturdy."
Ren looked at the perimeter. They had cleared a twenty-meter radius around the cabin. A low stone wall now circled the cabin, offering a physical defense line before the monsters even reached the invisible barrier.
But Thorne was struggling.
Ren walked over to his Militia unit. Thorne was sitting on a stump, sharpening his rusted sword with a rock. He looked haggard.
"How is the arm?" Ren asked.
Thorne looked up, his eyes filled with shame. "The bite, my Lord. It heals, then it festers. The poison of the Weaver..."
He held out his arm. The skin was black and swollen, veins tracing up toward his shoulder. Ren had given him a basic health potion from a random drop, but it only slowed the corruption. Thorne was a Level 1 Militia. The spiders were Level 2. He was outclassed.
Ren looked at the Quest Log.
**[Quest: Subject Evolution]**
* *Objective:* Evolve a Subject using Essence.
* *Reward:* Unlock Summoning Altar.*
He had been hoarding the Evolution Points. Every spider kill gave him **[10 Evolution Points]**. With the twenty spiders he had slaughtered over the last three days, he had **200 Points**. He was saving them for a massive upgrade, but looking at Thorne's rotting arm, Ren made a calculation.
A dead soldier was useless. An evolved soldier was an asset.
"Stand up, Thorne," Ren commanded.
Thorne obeyed, wincing as he flexed his arm.
"You have served me well," Ren said. "You have guarded my sleep and watched my back. I will not let a bug rot you away."
Ren opened the interface. He selected Thorne.
**[Subject: Thorne]**
**[Race: Human]**
**[Class: Militia]**
**[Affliction: Necrotic Poison (Minor)]**
**[Evolution Cost: 100 Points]**
"Do you trust me?" Ren asked.
"With my life, my Lord."
"This will hurt," Ren warned. "It will feel like burning."
"I welcome the fire."
Ren allocated the points.
**[Commencing Evolution Sequence...]**
**[Consuming Essence...]**
Ren placed his hand on Thorne's forehead. He mentally pushed the points into the soldier. It felt like draining water from a bucket. The points flowed out, vanishing into Thorne's body.
Thorne gasped, his back arching violently. He fell to his knees, clutching his head.
"Jace! Hold him down!" Ren barked.
Jace rushed over, grabbing Thorne's shoulders as the man began to convulse. The infected arm began to glow—a sickly green light fighting against a golden aura.
Ren watched the Status Screen update rapidly.
**[Mutation Initiating...]**
**[Analyzing Local Threats...]**
**[Adaptation Selected: Arachnid Resistance]**
*CRACK.*
The sound of bone shifting made Elara wince as she watched from the wall. Thorne's muscles swelled, tearing the leather armor he wore. His skin turned darker, taking on a texture like cured leather.
The blackness of the poison didn't fade; it moved. It traveled from his arm to his eyes.
Thorne opened his mouth and screamed. It wasn't a human scream. It was a low, guttural sound.
Then, silence.
Thorne collapsed to the ground, panting heavily.
Ren checked the screen.
**[Evolution Successful]**
**[Subject: Thorne]**
**[Race: Human -> Arachnid-Kin (Grade 1)]**
**[Class: Militia -> Skirmisher]**
**[Level: 5 (Boosted) ]**
**[Status: Healthy]**
Ren let out a breath he didn't know he was holding.
Thorne pushed himself up. He moved differently now—fluid, predatory. He looked at his arm. The black veins were gone, replaced by grey, chitin-like skin patches on his forearms.
"My Lord," Thorne said. His voice was raspier. "I... I can feel the vibrations in the ground. I can hear the heartbeat of that beetle under the porch."
He looked at the rusty sword in his hand and tossed it aside. "I need a faster weapon, my Lord. A spear. Or two short blades."
Ren checked his inventory. "I have materials. We can forge something."
"No," Thorne looked toward the forest, his eyes narrowing. "I will forge it from the enemy."
A notification popped up.
**[Quest Complete: Subject Evolution]**
**[Reward: Blueprint: Summoning Altar (Level 1)]**
Ren immediately claimed it. The Altar was crucial. It would allow him to summon specialized units, not just random Peasants. It cost resources—500 Wood, 500 Stone—but he had been grinding the trees outside the barrier and mining the rocks in the clearing.
"Elara, Jace," Ren called out. "Stop working on the wall. We start on the Altar."
They moved instantly.
Ren looked back at Thorne. "Go to the edge. Test your new senses. Tell me what you see."
Thorne grinned—it was a terrifying expression, showing teeth that looked slightly sharper than before.
"As you command."
As Thorne left, Ren opened the Global Chat. He needed to know how the others were doing.
**[Global Chat - Region 001]**
**[Player_Mike]**: We're stuck. We pooled our resources to build a watchtower, but we can't clear the wolves. They're Level 2 and we're Level 1.
**[DoomSlayer]**: My wall broke. A boar crashed right through. We lost three people. I'm hiding in the cellar.
**[TankCommander]**: Ren, are you alive? We haven't heard from you in days.
**[Lord_Ren]**: "I'm here. I've evolved my soldier."
**[Player_Mike]**: Evolved? How?
**[Lord_Ren]**: "Kill stuff. Loot the Essence. Feed it to them."
**[MedicDan]**: Can I do that? I got a drop that said 'Essence' yesterday. I thought it was crafting material.
**[Lord_Ren]**: "It's for your people. If you don't evolve them, they'll die when the protection ends."
Ren closed the chat. He was essentially feeding them information, but he didn't care. If the human race on the Outer Realms was wiped out, he had no trade partners. He needed the economy on the outside to survive.
"My Lord!"
Jace's voice snapped Ren out of his thoughts. "The Altar! It's finished!"
Ren walked over to the center of the clearing. They had cleared the trees and flattened the earth. A stone dais stood there, covered in glowing runes that matched the Summoning Circle in the cabin, but larger.
**[Structure: Summoning Altar (Level 1)]**
**[Effect: Enables Class-Specific Summons.]**
**[Cost: Increased Resource Cost.**
Ren looked at the list.
**[Specialized Summons]**
* **Alchemist** - Cost: 50 Wood, 50 Stone, 10 Herbs.
* **Blacksmith** - Cost: 100 Wood, 100 Stone, 50 Iron.
* **Beast Tamer** - Cost: 75 Wood, 75 Stone, 50 Meat.
"Jace," Ren said. "You have worked hard. You want to be a farmer?"
Jace looked at his dirty hands. "Yes, my Lord. I want to grow things."
"Then stay a Peasant," Ren said. "But I will summon an Alchemist. If you can learn from him, we can make potions for your wounds."
Ren placed the resources on the Altar. He chose **Alchemist**.
The runes flared. A column of blue light erupted.
A figure appeared. An old man in a ragged robe, carrying a large backpack filled with glass vials.
**[Subject: Merrin]**
**[Race: Human]**
**[Class: Alchemist]**
**[Loyalty: MAX]**
Merrin fell to his knees. "My Lord! The smell of reagents... is that... Rot-Bloom?"
"Yes," Ren said, impressed. "You know it?"
"Rare poison," Merrin muttered, pulling a vial from his bag. "And... spider silk? My Lord, you have stumbled upon a treasure trove of materials."
"We have plenty of spiders," Ren said darkly. "More than we can count."
"Excellent," Merrin rubbed his hands together. "With silk and poison, I can create antidotes. Strength potions. Adhesive bombs."
Ren smiled. "Get to work, Merrin. Thorne needs new armor, and we need weapons."
Ren looked at the sky. The purple twilight was getting darker. Day and night cycles here were roughly 12 hours each. He had been here for three days.
Twenty-seven days left.
He looked at the forest. The wolves were getting bolder. He had seen a pack of Dire Wolves—Level 5—prowling the edge of the cleared zone.
But he had Thorne (Level 5), Jace (Peasant), Elara (Peasant), and Merrin (Alchemist).
And Ren himself was **Level 4**. He had gained 5 stats per level. His Strength was now **25**. He was physically stronger than three men combined.
"Thorne," Ren called out.
The Arachnid-Kin melted out of the shadows near the tree line. "My Lord."
"Tonight," Ren said, gripping his axe. "We stop defending."
He pointed at the dark forest.
"We start taking the land back."
***