My tactical approach throughout this journey had followed a consistent, logical progression. My primary strategy was to engage an enemy with measured caution, staying defensive until I could decipher their specific fighting style, rhythm, and inherent weaknesses. Once those vulnerabilities were exposed, I would exploit them with surgical precision to end the fight. If that methodical path failed, or if the enemy proved too erratic to read, I would simply abandon the finer points of my defense and utilize my superior brute strength to force a head-on victory. It was a philosophy of adaptability, backed by the raw power of my system.

  However, the Venomous Mother presented a variable that defied my usual fallback plans. If I took a physical injury, I could simply rely on my mid-level potions or the golden warmth of my Healing Touch skill to seal the flesh. But poison was an entirely different category of threat. I currently possess no measures against toxins—no specialized skills, no herbal tinctures, and no alchemical antidotes. Since this was the first time a poisonous monster had appeared in the dungeon's rotation, I suspected the venom wouldn't be instantly lethal, but there was no way to be certain. In a world where a single mistake could result in a permanent end, "thinking it's fine" was the mark of a doomed man.

  We had to be as cautious as humanly possible. If the spider's attacks proved too fast or too pervasive to dodge, I was fully prepared to use Warp and retreat immediately. It wasn't worth risking our lives on a gamble. If we found a rhythm, we would dismantle the creature delicately and deliberately. One thing was certain: the moment this fight concluded, my first priority in the city would be to stock up on wide-spectrum antidotes. I didn't know if the Guild sold universal cures or if I would need a specific remedy for every species of arachnid, but that was a problem for my future self. Right now, the only thing that mattered was the three-meter nightmare hanging from the pillars.

  While I trusted my own evasion and high shield-block rate to keep me safe from a direct sting, I was deeply worried about Namo. He lacked my years of subconscious gaming logic and the raw defensive stats that padded my own health pool.

  "Namo," I said, my voice low and urgent as I didn't take my eyes off the eight flickering eyes above us. "Focus entirely on defense. Keep your distance, stay light on your feet, and whatever you do, do not let it touch you. It is poisonous. If you want to help me, all you can do is run around its periphery to confuse its senses. Do not let its legs or mandibles make contact with your skin. Do you understand?"

  "Yes, master," he replied shortly. He lifted his iron shield a bit higher, his ears pinned back against his head in a display of intense concentration. The way he braced himself told me more than words ever could—he was ready to play his part in this dangerous dance.

  My plan was to remain passive during the opening salvos, gauging the Mother’s speed, strength, and any potential hidden abilities. If Namo could disrupt her focus even slightly, it would ease the burden on me and allow me to find the opening I needed.

  I dashed forward, leaving Namo to circle toward the left flank. The spider was an imposing sight—tall, wide, and covered in thick, bristly hairs that reminded me of a gargantuan tarantula. As I entered her range, all eight of her unevenly sized eyes locked onto me, tracking my heat and movement with predatory precision. When the gap between us closed to roughly two meters, she suddenly recoiled, drawing her legs inward, and then lunged forward with a violent burst of momentum. She lashed out with her primary front pincers, and I caught the impact squarely on my shield.

  The collision surprised me. Despite her massive body frame and the terrifying look of her obsidian mandibles, the impact was remarkably light. I felt very little of the crushing weight I had anticipated. I realized then that the creature followed the biological logic of an insect or an arachnid—her legs were likely hollow, filled with air or light fluid rather than dense marrow and heavy bone. She was a creature of speed and intimidation, not of overwhelming physical power.

  This realization shifted my perspective. The Venomous Mother was a psychological nightmare, designed to unnerve her prey with her eerie movements and the looming threat of her toxin. If she were both physically powerful and incredibly fast alongside her poisonous trait, the tenth-floor milestone would be an insurmountable wall for most raiders. It would break the internal balance of the dungeon entirely. If the difficulty spiked that sharply here, there was no way even the strongest knights could ever hope to conquer the 50th floor.

  While she lacked crushing strength, she made up for it with maneuverability. She used her eight legs to pivot and skitter around the stone pillars with an unsettling, fluid grace. I decided to test a new tactic. I shouted for Namo to draw her attention. He didn't hesitate; he feinted a charge from her right side, making enough noise against the stone to force her to pivot. The spider, sensing a more vulnerable target, shifted her gaze away from me for a split second.

  I took the opening, attempting to dash beneath her abdomen to strike at her blind spot. I thought I had timed it perfectly, but the Mother was more aware of her surroundings than I’d credited. Even as she tracked Namo, she kept her rear legs positioned to block my path. She was acutely aware of her own weaknesses; she did everything in her power to prevent me from reaching the soft, unprotected belly. Her eight legs functioned like a living cage, making it nearly impossible to get close to the core of her body.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  Every time I swung my sword at her legs, I felt the blade meeting unexpected resistance. The thick, bristly hairs that covered her chitinous limbs acted like a layer of natural padding, absorbing the cutting force of my steel blade and preventing it from biting deep into the joints. I realized that a standard slashing attack was ineffective against this specific defense.

  "Namo, distract her again!" I ordered.

  As he moved to pull her focus, I changed my grip on the sword. If I couldn't cut her, I would pierce her. I waited for her to lunge at Namo's shield, and when her left front leg was planted firmly on the stone, I lunged forward. I put every ounce of my Strength into a single, focused thrust. The steel point bypassed the padding of the hairs and plunged directly through the joint, the tip of the sword emerging from the other side of the limb.

  "Eeeekkkk!"

  The boss let out a high-pitched, agonizing shriek that vibrated through the chamber. I didn't withdraw the blade immediately. Instead, I wrenched it to the side, carving through the chitin and muscle until more than half of the leg was severed. The limb began to swing uselessly, no longer able to support her weight.

  "Namo, fall back! Now!"

  The Mother was moving savagely, her shrieks turning into a frenzied, clicking hiss. She began to trample the ground in her pain, making it dangerous to stay within reach. I backed off, waiting for her to settle into a predictable pattern of thrashing. When the opportunity arose, I lunged again, targeting the second leg on the same side. The creature was losing its balance, her massive body beginning to tilt toward the stone floor as her support gave way.

  "Eeeek! Kkkkk! Eeeekkkk!"

  The shrieks grew more desperate. With two of the four legs on her left side crippled, the Venomous Mother could no longer maintain her elevation. Her once-graceful maneuvers were replaced by a clumsy, desperate crawl. I realized I didn't need to take all her legs; the opening I had been looking for was finally clear. I dashed into the space beneath her cephalothorax, right where the abdomen connected to the rest of her body.

  She tried to skitter away, but she was too slow. I delivered a powerful, upwards blow to the narrow connection point, my blade sinking deep into the soft tissue. Before I could celebrate the hit, the spider acted on instinct. Even without the breath to cry out, she released her remaining grip on the pillars and allowed her entire massive body to come crashing down on top of me.

  I had anticipated this. I locked my knees and lifted my iron shield above my head, bracing myself for the impact. The weight was significant—enough to force a groan from my chest and push my feet into the stone—but as I had suspected, she wasn't heavy enough to crush me. I held firm against the pressure, waiting for the momentum to dissipate. Then, I angled the shield, allowing her bulk to slide harmlessly to the side. Just as she hit the ground, I delivered a final, horizontal slash to the wound I had already opened. The connection between her body and her legs was severed completely.

  The Venomous Mother didn't even have time to shriek. Her form began to flicker and dissolve into the dark, swirling mist of the dungeon. We had done it. We had cleared the tenth-floor milestone and defeated the mini-boss.

  As the spider vanished, the jagged terrain of the room—the pillars and the protrusions—began to withdraw back into the stone, returning the chamber to its empty, dome-shaped state. In the center of the floor, a generous pile of loot remained.

  There were 5 silver coins and 50 copper coins, matching the ten-to-one ratio I had come to expect from the bosses. But sitting beside the currency was a more interesting drop—a single, long, needle-sharp object that gleamed with a metallic sheen.

  ***

  Steel Sting

  Steel sting of the Venomous Mother. It can be melted to create steel equipment.

  3kg

  ***

  It was a "Steel Sting," a rare material used for crafting high-tier gear. I picked it up, noting that while it only weighed three kilograms compared to the ten-kilogram Iron Fang, the fact that it was made of steel suggested it was far more valuable.

  The most important result of the fight, however, was our health. Neither Namo nor I had been poisoned. The caution we had exercised had paid off. I knew that my healing skills would have restored HP, but I had no idea how a potent venom would have interacted with my system's regeneration over the long term. It was a lesson learned without the cost of a life.

  I checked my purse. Between the sixty monsters on the tenth floor and the boss's bounty, I had collected a significant sum. I merged the loose copper, leaving myself with 57 silver and 70 copper coins in total. Considering that a full year’s freeman tax in the Kingdom was only one gold coin (roughly 100 silver), I had managed to amass over half a year's living expenses in a single week of high-intensity hunting.

  "Let's get out of here, Namo," I said, stowing the Steel Sting in my invisible inventory.

  We walked through the exit door and briefly set foot on the eleventh floor, just to ensure the system registered our progress. The corridors here looked the same, but I felt no desire to push further today. We turned back and made our way to the surface. I had two vital tasks to complete before the sun went down: I needed to sell this Steel Sting, and I needed to find Thalanor or Naska to buy every antidote they had in stock. We were heading deeper, and I would never be caught unprepared by poison again.

  [Edited]