Chapter 180: The Spider and The Lion

The water stirred, and Cleeve took a deep breath. From his back, black smoke formed, and Leon appeared. "It’s time." The lion stretched its body as if it had been resting for eternity, ready to fight as Cleeve put on a silver helmet. It was subtle what was happening, masked by the rain that fell from above, but Cleeve could tell the webs had formed beneath the water.

"Lord Daywatch." Ordering the man, he picked up his shield and grabbed his sword. "Pour the remaining oil we have, bar that above the bridge, into the water and set it alight." Cleeve looked out at Anton as he rose; from behind him, red smoke formed. Unlike him, where Leon formed once the smoke fully left his body, it was as if a massive creature pulled itself free from Anton’s body.

Its legs dug into the ground as a massive, looming spider came to take form. Its blood-red body atop black legs shook with anticipation as it ripped apart the ground, removing itself from Anton. Cleeve shook his head. Anton could summon it just as he had done, but put on a performance, one that worked. Around him, he could hear the stifled breaths of men watching as a creature of blood and violence ripped itself out of a man they already feared.

The spider was massive, larger than Leon himself, and once completely free, lifted its head to the sky. A clicking screech left its mouth, a noise full of dread that sounded horrible to anyone who heard it. Black oozing liquid fell from the maw of its mouth as its numerous beady white eyes finally looked down on the fortress. As he rose, Anton lifted his hands and from them, an uncountable number of red threads connected to his hands.

It shone as if it were the sharpest thing imaginable, yet Cleeve knew that wasn’t the case. To others; it was a horrific sight. Red silk lathered in blood, a spiderweb stretched in a strange way, but for Cleeve it was beautiful, like the finest rubies woven in thin strands. As Anton lifted his hands, the webs rose from below the water. Hundreds, if not thousands, each paintstainkly made by the man who knelt for four days, climbing up towards the gate and connecting to it. They all overlapped over one another to look like a massive red clump.

The spider of blood, Kibla, moved. Its two front legs rested atop Atnon’s hands and took control of the webs. Pulling its legs back, the entire wall shook as the bridge was forced to be pulled down. Cleeve knew he didn’t need to watch any more. Nothing would cut or burn the webs, and all he could do was prepare.

"I leave you incharge of the wall, Lord Daywatch," Cleeve said before climbing down, Leon jumping off and landing, kicking up a dust cloud. Taking his place before the gate, he waited, seeing the giant iron chains that held it up buckle under the strength of Kibla. Men attempted to fight against the spiders’ strength, holding the drawing mechanism, but it was a futile attempt, throwing them to the ground only to be replaced.

"My friend." Leon spoke, his deep voice growling in anticipation, "Are we merging or not?" Cleeve took a deep breath.

"We shall see how he approaches this. If he merges, I think it is the only choice we have." Leon flashed his fangs, smiling the only way a lion could.

"Do you trust me, my friend?" Leon asked. Cleeve nodded without hesitation. "Anything we do must be deep, deeper than we’ve ever done. I shall not try to assimilate you."

"Do you think you could, old man?" Leon roared in laughter, breathing new life into the defenders who watched the horror beyond the bridge. The bridge shook, and Cleeve waited, watching as it was slowly ripped off the wall. The world was silent, only the sound of cracking wood echoing throughout the fort.

Looking up into the sky before the final lock broke, he couldn’t help but sigh. ’No wonder you got all the credit, Anton.’ The final piece of wood holding the bridge into the fort snapped, and with a final, powerful pull, it fell, revealing the army opposite the bridge. ’Who else could siege this place alone?’

The water alongside the bridge went up into flames as torches fell from above, covering the oil. The massive stampede the defenders expected as the enemy army charged never arrived. Rather, they organised a line behind Anton, shields held above their heads as the king pulled his sword. Cleeve watched. The massive spider slowly turned to smoke and reentered Anton’s body as he met his gaze from acorss the water.

Instantly he knew what Anton was doing, the gaze looking back at him, different, as if numerous sets of eyes stared at him. Once again, Anton’s body changed. From behind his back, eight pairs of massive legs sprouted, wrapping themselves around him, and once there wasn’t a gap, he walked foward. It was a casual walk as if taking a leisurely stroll through the garden, but one that gave Cleeve goosebumps. Even so far away, he could feel the unrelenting desire for blood radiating from Anton, a desire not his own but his summons. He knew it was his mind playing tricks, but Cleeve was sure he could see a red mist of blood surrounding the man.

"Do it," Cleeve ordered, his voice deep and unwavering, and Leon morphed, turning into black smoke. His body changed. Across his arms and head, his hair grew until he looked half lion, half human. He was lucky he wore his armour to hide the change and wondered what Anton looked like underneath his own now.

Running his tongue over his teeth, he felt the changes in his mouth. His teeth were stronger, sharper and larger, and his tongue rougher and sharper, it alone able to tear the meat of a bone. Finally, his body grew. Cleeve could feel his armour straining to contain it. He was already massive, dwarfing most men, but now, he was like a myth made human, only staying relatively short by the combined effort of the two to not break their outfit.

Swinging his sword, he couldn’t help but chuckle, sounding like a deep lion’s growl. It was a weak swing, but it felt like the most powerful strike he had ever done. Beneath his helmet, he felt the unfortunate amount of hair around his chin poking beneath his helmet and looked at his sword, seeing his black eyes had turned golden.

Finally, he refocused on Anton as he marched foward. Hundreds of arrows flew down onto the bridge; the tight formation of men behind struggled, slowly walking through it. They struck their shield; those falling on the path were trampled over and ignored. Only Anton seemed unaffected, his pace having never changed, even as arrows filled the spider legs surrounding his body.

’Really, he is a monster.’ Cleeve thought to himself and heard Leon laughing in reply in his mind. He knew a summoner could feel all the pain their summon felt, when merged, doubly so, the body accounting for the injuries of two. Yet he could see his nephew was unfazed by it all.

’If the stories are true, my friend, then he has felt the pains of starvation and dehydration. A few arrows are nothing compared to that.’ Cleeve shook his head. Even if he had learnt to withstand the pain Leon suffered, seeing the legs filled with arrows, even he knew that it would make him fall.

’I have always wondered if he felt pain; after all, he never really showed it.’

’He feels it, but the nature of his summon is only fueled by that pain. Right now he is likely in agony, but that is dwarfed by the thirst for blood.’

’So I should not be deceived by any pangs of pain he shows?’

’If he shows real pain, it will be only from a mortal wound. Do not be deceived by anything else.’ Cleeve nodded to himself and raised his shield. In his calm walk he had arrived at the gate. Cleeve heard the culdron above the gate begin to fall, and Anton finally moved. The spider revealed his body for a split second before slamming into the ground.

’Now!’

Like a black blur, Anton vanished, the legs pushing him off the ground, through the gate before the oil could fall. Just behind him, the boiling oil fell, hitting nothing, and quickly stopped when the target was gone. Cleeve didn’t blink as the dust kicked up around him. The orderly line waiting for Anton quickly tried to attack, but Cleeve knew it was pointless. The eight spider legs, all moving as if they had a mind of their own, deflected the attacks that Anton couldn’t, and struck out at those it could, impaling them through their chests or heads, the sharp tips easily making work of anyone unfortunate enough to be struck.

Anton’s head didn’t move, continuing to stare at Cleeve, but he could tell that the many eyes behind his helmet had decreased, as his blade blocked attacks that he didn’t turn to look at. From behind, his forces charged in to provide support.

Digging his back heel into the ground, he took a deep breath and charged foward, moving faster than all men, arriving in front of Anton in an instant. Swinging down, his sword was instantly intercepted by two large legs, his sword digging a quarter of the way through the first one before being pushed back.

There was no point in every man throwing their lives at Anton and dying. The battle would be decided the moment either of them fell. Stabilising his footing, Anton moved foward, cutting down those in front of him, until the path between him and Cleeve was only filled with corpses.