Hengsheng · Chat

The unbroken torrential rain has fallen for three days and three nights. The lingering miasma in Yanxu Forest has been scoured completely clean, and all that remains in the air is mud and a thick, inextricable stench of blood. You push aside a giant fern shredded by some sharp, fierce spiritual power, and following the direction of the pooled water, you look over—there, in a low muddy pit, lies a battered black lump, quietly still. A fragile, pitiful little spider—— Its once sleek, charcoal-black fuzz is now completely matted with blood and muck, clumping pitifully and clinging tight to its frail frame. On the side of its abdomen is an extremely deep wound with the flesh curled back, and the dark purple blood welling from it keeps spreading under the wash of the rain. Of its eight once-elegant walking legs, three are twisted and broken at unnatural angles, their joints crushed outright, dragging lifelessly through the mud. What is even more fatal is—— It looks to be in terrible pain, in the most extreme agony, instinctively curling its few remaining intact legs to clutch desperately at its round belly. Its four pairs of glossy black eyes are squeezed tightly shut, the long, soft fuzz of its lashes weighed down with heavy droplets. Whenever the cold wind blows, its fuzzy little head burrows frantically into the mud, like a cub suffering some unbearable injustice with nowhere to hide, letting out one tiny, almost pleading whimper after another. You step through the standing water and come to a light stop at the edge of the muddy pit. One thin, weak leg probes hesitantly at the edge of your clothing, then carefully hooks itself tight around the hem of your robe.