Fabre in Sacheon’s Tang Novel - Chapter 61

Chapter 61

Namgung Eun trailed behind with great reluctance, her mind swirling with anxious thoughts about the potential fallout of this situation. She did as her sister and Sir Wei instructed, scouring the area for any sign or clue.

There was only one path to avoiding her father’s certain wrath—to discover the truth behind the spectral entity or whatever it was her sister believed they were pursuing. If they could reveal the reality of the matter, perhaps her father’s fury might even transform into approval.

And so, Namgung Eun searched with diligence, staying near her sister for comfort. The forest before them was deeply shadowed, an oppressive darkness that made her shiver.

Moving with careful steps and stealing frequent looks at her sister to steady her nerves, Namgung Eun abruptly became aware of something unusual.

As she continued her search, the darkness around her appeared to intensify. She initially wrote it off as her own fear, but she soon understood that her surroundings had been swallowed by a thick, heavy mist. She could no longer see anything even a single step in front of her.

“Sister?”

Her heart hammered against her ribs as the understanding that she was completely alone washed over her.

The heavy silence was interrupted only by the sound of her own heartbeat, pounding rhythmically in her ears.

*Thump. Thump.*

Trembling with fear, Namgung Eun drew her sword on instinct, hoping the weapon might offer some small solace.

*Sching.*

Yet something felt off.

At first, she believed her shivering was from terror, but as moments passed, her heart began to beat even more wildly, and a peculiar warmth spread through her body.

Sweat beaded on her skin, tracing a path down her temple. This wasn’t right. Even though she hadn’t mastered her arts to the point of being unaffected by temperature, her skill was such that fear alone shouldn’t cause her to sweat.

Furthermore, a strange sweetness hung in the air. Every breath she drew seemed filled with a heavy, dizzying fragrance.

As she inhaled the fog, her heart raced faster. Against her will, an image of Sir Wei’s face surfaced in her mind—a face she had to admit was surprisingly handsome.

It was a sensation similar to a brief childhood infatuation she’d once had for a roaming swordsman.

What… what is going on?

Wiping sweat from her brow with one hand, she kept a firm grip on her sword with the other, her eyes scanning the obscured surroundings.

Abruptly, the fog appeared to lessen slightly, and she spotted a shadowy form up ahead.

Focusing her sharpened vision, she could just distinguish the faint silhouette of a person.

And then, she heard a noise—soft, nearly inaudible, but definitely there.

*Rustle.*

“Sister? Is that you, Sister Seol?”

The figure’s shape and aura strongly resembled her sister. Convinced it was her, she moved forward cautiously, her sword held ready.

As she neared, the fog seemed to withdraw, unveiling the figure’s face.

It was her sister, standing motionless at the edge of the thick foliage.

For some reason, Namgung Seol had a finger pressed to her lips, as if signaling for silence.

She gestured for Namgung Eun to come nearer.

A wave of relief swept through Namgung Eun at the sight of her sister. She swiftly sheathed her sword and covered her own mouth to quiet her voice, rushing toward her sister.

[Sister, what is happening? You frightened me terribly! Where are Sir Wei and Hwa-eun…?]

She didn’t get to finish her sentence before she threw her arms around her sister, overwhelmed.

Namgung Seol placed a soothing hand on her younger sister’s shoulder, offering comfort.

But when Namgung Eun reached up to hold her sister’s hand, a sudden feeling of wrongness struck her.

Her sister’s hand was freezing cold.

Why is her hand so cold? It feels like… a corpse…

The thought iced her veins, and she instinctively turned her eyes away.

She couldn’t bring herself to look into her sister’s eyes. If this wasn’t truly her sister, if it was something else, she did not want to meet its gaze.

However, her decision to look downward turned out to be a far worse mistake.

Her eyes landed on her sister’s bare feet, which were suspended several inches above the ground.

What… what is this?

The realization hit her with the force of a thunderclap.

Her scream ripped through the silent night as she scrambled backward.

But before she could get away, her sister’s hand snapped out and seized her shoulder.

From below the figure’s legs, something glinted—a flash of crimson—and Namgung Eun felt a sharp, stinging pain in her thigh.

Her body went completely numb.

*Thud.*

She collapsed like a felled tree, her mind fully aware but her body totally paralyzed. She could blink and feel the pain in her leg, but she could not move or speak. It felt as if everything below her nose had been frozen.

Beads of perspiration formed on her skin, her body’s only response to the utter terror she felt.

*Drip.*

The figure, still wearing her sister’s face, stared down at her, its gaze pitiless.

From behind its back, vividly red legs emerged—spindly and monstrous.

One of the scarlet limbs lifted Namgung Eun’s helpless body with ease.

This… this can’t be happening!

A fine, white thread shot out from behind the figure, winding around Namgung Eun’s body, wrapping her like a silken package. Her vision whirled as she was hauled high into the air.

Dangling among the treetops, she finally saw the creature clearly under the faint moonlight.

A spider…?

Yes, it was a spider—a hideous, monstrous spider larger than any she could have imagined. Its huge body was topped with the upper torso of a woman, which wore her sister’s face.

Namgung Eun’s heart raced as she understood this creature had to be behind all the strange occurrences—the vanished villagers, the rumors, everything.

Fear seized her even more tightly as she desperately scanned the area for any sign of rescue.

She saw her actual sister, sword in hand, trying to slash her way through the dense fog nearby. Not far from her, Tang Hwa-eun was seated cross-legged, focusing her energy to disperse the mist.

But neither of them seemed anywhere near reaching her.

Just as despair began to take hold, she noticed movement.

Through the fog, a figure advanced, parting the mist as if it yielded to his very presence.

It was Sir Wei, running directly toward her.

Sir Wei!

Namgung Eun, who had previously considered him shallow and easily fooled, now saw him differently. His resolute determination as he charged forward made her heart beat faster.

Is this the reason Sister Hwa-eun is so taken with him?

She remembered the look in her sister’s eyes whenever she spoke of him—a gaze filled with deep admiration and fondness.

But her flicker of hope died when the spider drew back slightly, its monstrous limbs curling beneath it as it once again took on Namgung Seol’s form.

This time, the creature revealed its shoulders, pulling down its robe to expose just enough of its chest to show the mark that had been at the center of the scandal.

That… that vile creature!

Namgung Eun’s anger flared as she understood how the missing villagers had learned of her sister’s mark.

But she held onto hope. Surely Sir Wei, who was engaged to Hwa-eun, would not be deceived by such a trick. Surely, he would see this monster for what it was.

Yet, as Sir Wei came closer, the sweet, intoxicating scent in the air grew more potent.

Namgung Eun’s heart sank when she saw the blank, entranced look in his eyes.

As if under a spell, Sir Wei walked slowly toward the creature, his movements hesitant but completely captivated.

No… not even he can fight it…

Namgung Eun’s body shook with frustration as she watched him draw near to the creature, drawn in by its deceptive appearance.

Finally, he reached it, and to her horror, he buried his face into the chest of the figure wearing her sister’s face.

Namgung Eun’s despair deepened as she understood what was to follow.

Soon, Sir Wei would be joining her, strung up in the trees, ensnared in the spider’s web of lies.

***

A woman’s scream cut through the darkness, slicing into the heavy fog.

It wasn’t Lady Hwa-eun’s voice, which meant it had to be either Namgung Eun or Namgung Seol.

I quickly freed Binna and Hyangyi, who were coiled around my left hand and waist. “Binna, Hyangyi, can you find your mother?”

I was hoping they could detect the energy of the being I suspected was responsible. Their antennae twitched, almost like a nod of understanding.

“Then find her and keep her safe. Understood?”

With a soft *tsrrrr*, Binna and Hyangyi circled around me, gave me one final look, then sped off into the mist.

It felt like something from a frightening tale, but I couldn’t abandon Lady Hwa-eun. At the same time, I didn’t want to send Binna and Hyangyi deeper into danger without a clear task. I trusted them, and I had to move fast.

My body was primed to defend itself, and I had already set a protective measure for Lady Hwa-eun. It was time to go.

I sprinted in the direction of the scream, but even as I ran, my mind was stuck on the spiderweb.

Why was a web like that there?

The question bothered me. Spiders typically fit into two types: those that build stationary webs and those that wander to hunt.

Stationary spiders spin webs to catch prey and remain in one place, while wandering spiders move about to find food. Yet, laying a thread across the ground in that way was an action I couldn’t explain.

Burrowing spiders, for instance, spin webs inside their tunnels, but they don’t lay threads across the earth like that. It was perplexing.

I kept moving toward the source of the sound when, suddenly, moonlight broke through a gap in the clouds. The darkness and fog lifted for a moment, revealing an astonishing, almost dreamlike sight.

What is this…?

Everywhere I stepped, the ground was covered in shimmering spiderwebs, beaded with dew from the mist. The delicate threads glimmered under the moonlight for a brief instant before the clouds covered the moon again, dropping everything back into gloom.

It was as if a glowing network of strands had briefly flickered to life, only to disappear.

As the image of the spiderweb burned into my mind, my eyes were pulled toward the center of it all.

Standing there, smiling coyly in my direction, was Namgung Seol.

That’s it!

The giant spider.

It wasn’t an ordinary spider. It was unlike any I had ever seen—a burrowing type of spider, yet it spun its web across the ground instead of in the air. A new species, without a doubt!

Finally, it all made sense.

The creature luring me in wasn’t Namgung Seol. It was the spider’s pedipalps disguised as her.

Pedipalps—appendages that look like legs—are highly specialized instruments. Located on a spider’s head, they are used for sensing, mating, and capturing prey. They aren’t truly legs, but a distinct evolutionary adaptation. Even a scorpion’s pincers are technically pedipalps, not legs.

This creature had evolved to use its pedipalps to mimic a beautiful woman, likely to attract male prey. And now, it was putting on an alluring display, baring its shoulders and smiling seductively at me.

But the truth was, it didn’t need to bother.

I was already completely fascinated.

Not by the human disguise, but by the actual spider beneath. If it had shown its true form, I might have been even more captivated.

I steadied my pounding heart, forcing myself to keep a dazed expression as I neared the creature.

As I got closer, I caught glimpses of its real nature: the shimmering eyes between the disguised pedipalps, and the red legs partly concealed in the brush.

Pretending to be oblivious, I walked up to the pedipalps disguised as Namgung Seol and wrapped my arms around it in a tight hug.

I acted as though I were completely enchanted—because that was precisely what the spider desired.

Then, I shouted toward the candle I had prepared earlier.

“Cho! Bite!”