Fabre in Sacheon’s Tang

Namgung Eun followed behind reluctantly, filled with anxiety about the possible consequences of what was happening. She moved as instructed by her sister and Sir Wei, searching for any traces or clues.

There was only one way for her to avoid her father’s inevitable punishment—to uncover the truth behind the mysterious ghost or whatever it was her sister believed in. If they could expose the truth, perhaps her father’s anger might even turn into praise.

And so, Namgung Eun diligently searched the area, staying as close to her sister as possible. The forest ahead was oppressively dark, sending chills down her spine.

Carefully moving step by step and stealing glances at her sister to maintain her sense of security, Namgung Eun suddenly noticed something peculiar.

As she searched the area, the darkness around her seemed to grow thicker. At first, she dismissed it as her imagination, but it wasn’t long before she realized that her surroundings had become obscured by a dense, impenetrable fog. She could no longer see even a step ahead.

”Sister?”

Her heart pounded as she realized she was alone.

The oppressive silence was broken only by the sound of her own heartbeat, loud and rhythmic in her ears.

Thump. Thump.

Namgung Eun, gripped by fear, drew her sword instinctively, hoping it might bring her some comfort.

Sching.

But something felt wrong.

At first, she thought her trembling was due to fear, but as time passed, her heart began to race even faster, and her body felt strangely warm.

Sweat began to bead on her skin, trickling down her temple. This wasn’t normal. Even though she hadn’t reached the peak of martial prowess where cold or heat couldn’t affect her, her level was such that fear alone shouldn’t make her sweat.

Moreover, there was a strange sweetness in the air. Every breath she took seemed to carry a cloying, intoxicating scent.

As she breathed in the fog, her heart raced faster. Unbidden, the image of Sir Wei’s face appeared in her mind—a face she found unexpectedly handsome.

It was a feeling reminiscent of the fleeting childhood crush she had once harbored for a wandering swordsman.

What… what’s happening?

Wiping sweat from her brow with one hand, she continued holding her sword in the other, scanning her surroundings.

Suddenly, the fog seemed to clear slightly, and she caught sight of a shadowy figure ahead.

Focusing her enhanced vision, she made out the faint outline of a person.

And then, she heard a sound—soft, almost imperceptible, but unmistakable.

Rustle.

”Sister? Is that you, Sister Seol?”

The figure resembled her sister, both in shape and presence. Convinced, she cautiously approached, sword raised.

As she drew closer, the fog seemed to thin, revealing the figure’s face.

It was her sister, standing silently at the edge of the dense foliage.

For some reason, Namgung Seol had her finger pressed against her lips, as if urging her to stay quiet.

She gestured for Namgung Eun to come closer.

Relief washed over Namgung Eun as she recognized her sister. She quickly sheathed her sword and covered her mouth to muffle her voice, running toward her sister.

[Sister, what’s going on? You scared me half to death! Where are Sir Wei and Hwa-eun…?]

Before she could finish, she threw herself into her sister’s arms, overwhelmed with relief.

Namgung Seol placed a calming hand on her younger sister’s shoulder, trying to reassure her.

But as Namgung Eun reached up to hold her sister’s hand, she felt a sudden sense of unease.

Her sister’s hand was ice cold.

Why is her hand so cold? It feels like… a dead person’s…

The thought sent a chill down Namgung Eun’s spine, and she instinctively averted her gaze.

She couldn’t bring herself to look her sister in the eye. If this wasn’t truly her sister, if it was something else, she didn’t want to meet its gaze.

However, her choice to look down proved to be an even worse decision.

Her eyes fell on her sister’s bare feet, which were hovering a few inches off the ground.

What… what is this?

The realization struck her like lightning.

Her scream tore through the silence as she stumbled backward.

But before she could escape, her sister’s hand shot out and grabbed her shoulder.

From beneath the figure’s legs, something gleamed—a flash of red—and Namgung Eun felt a sharp sting in her thigh.

Her body went limp.

Thud.

She collapsed like a log, her mind clear but her body completely paralyzed.

She could blink and feel the pain in her thigh, but she couldn’t move or speak. It felt as though everything below her nose had been immobilized.

Beads of sweat formed on her skin, her body’s silent testament to the terror consuming her.

Drip.

The figure, still wearing her sister’s face, loomed over her, its gaze unyielding.

From behind the figure’s back, bright red legs emerged—spider-like and grotesque.

One of the crimson legs lifted Namgung Eun’s limp body effortlessly.

This… this can’t be!

A fine, white thread spewed from behind the figure, wrapping around Namgung Eun’s body like a cocoon. Her view spun as she was hoisted high into the air.

Dangling in the treetops, she finally saw the creature for what it truly was under the pale moonlight.

A spider…?

Yes, it was a spider—a monstrous, grotesque spider larger than any she had ever heard of. Its massive body was crowned with the upper torso of a woman, wearing her sister’s face.

Namgung Eun’s heart pounded as she realized this creature must be the source of all the strange events—the missing villagers, the rumors, everything.

Fear gripped her even tighter as she scanned her surroundings desperately for help.

She spotted her sister, sword drawn, attempting to cut through the dense fog nearby. Not far from her, Tang Hwa-eun sat cross-legged, concentrating on dispersing the mist with her energy.

But neither of them seemed close to reaching her.

Just as despair began to settle in, she noticed movement.

Through the fog, a figure approached, parting the mist as if it bowed to his presence.

It was Sir Wei, running straight toward her.

Sir Wei!

Namgung Eun, who had previously thought him frivolous and gullible, now saw him in a new light. His unwavering determination as he charged toward her made her heart race.

Is this why Sister Hwa-eun is so smitten with him?

She recalled the look in her sister’s eyes whenever she talked about him—a gaze full of admiration and affection.

But her fleeting hope was dashed when the spider retreated slightly, its monstrous legs curling beneath it as it transformed once more into Namgung Seol’s form.

This time, the creature revealed its shoulders, pulling down its robe to expose just enough of its chest to reveal the mark that had caused the scandal.

That… that vile thing!

Namgung Eun’s anger flared as she realized how the missing villagers had known about her sister’s mark.

But she clung to hope. Surely, Sir Wei, engaged to Hwa-eun, wouldn’t fall for such a trick. Surely, he would see through this monster’s deception.

Yet, as Sir Wei drew closer, the sweet, intoxicating scent in the air grew stronger.

Namgung Eun’s heart sank as she saw the dazed look in his eyes.

As if enchanted, Sir Wei slowly walked toward the creature, his movements hesitant but captivated.

No… even he can’t resist…

Namgung Eun’s body shook with frustration as she watched him approach the creature, its deceitful appearance drawing him closer.

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 realized what would come next.

Soon, Sir Wei would join her, strung up in the treetops, trapped in the spider’s web of deceit.

***

A woman’s scream pierced the darkness, cutting through the dense fog.

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

I quickly untied Binna and Hyangyi, who had been coiled around my left hand and waist, and asked, “Binna, Hyangyi, can you find your mother?”

I was hoping they could sense the energy of the figure I suspected to be the culprit. Their antennae twitched, almost like a nod of understanding.

“Then find her and protect her. Got it?”

With a soft tsrrrr, Binna and Hyangyi swirled around me, giving me one last glance, then darted off into the mist.

It felt like a scene straight out of a horror movie, but I couldn’t just leave Lady Hwa-eun alone. At the same time, I couldn’t risk sending Binna and Hyangyi deeper into the unknown without a purpose. I trusted them, and I needed to act quickly.

My body was ready to protect itself, and I had set a safeguard for Lady Hwa-eun. It was time to move.

I sprinted toward the direction of the scream, but even as I ran, my mind was preoccupied with thoughts of the spiderweb.

Why was that kind of web there?

The question gnawed at me. Spiders generally fall into two categories: stationary web-builders and wandering hunters.

Stationary spiders build webs to trap prey and stay in one place, while wandering spiders roam around to hunt. Yet, laying a thread across the ground like that was an act I couldn’t comprehend.

Burrowing spiders, for example, spin webs inside their burrows, but they don’t scatter threads across the ground like that. It was baffling.

I continued moving toward the source of the sound when, suddenly, the moonlight pierced through a gap in the clouds. The darkness and fog lifted momentarily, revealing a breathtakingly surreal sight.

What is this…?

Everywhere I stepped, the ground was covered with glistening spiderwebs, coated in dew from the mist. The intricate threads sparkled under the moonlight for a brief moment before the clouds obscured the moon again, plunging everything back into darkness.

It was as if a luminous network of threads had briefly flickered on, only to vanish.

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

Standing there, smiling coyly at me, was Namgung Seol.

That’s it!

The giant spider.

It wasn’t just any spider. It was unlike anything I’d ever seen—a burrowing spider species, yet it spun its web on the ground rather than in the air. A new species, without a doubt!

Finally, everything made sense.

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

Pedipalps—appendages resembling legs—were highly specialized tools. Found on a spider’s head, they were used for sensory perception, mating, and hunting prey. They weren’t exactly legs, but a unique evolutionary adaptation. Even a scorpion’s pincers were technically pedipalps, not legs.

The creature had evolved to use its pedipalps to imitate a beautiful woman, likely to lure male prey. And now, it was putting on a seductive show, baring its shoulders and smiling alluringly at me.

But the truth was, it didn’t need to try so hard.

I was already utterly captivated.

Not by the humanoid disguise, but by the actual spider itself. If it had revealed its true form, I might have been even more entranced.

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

As I drew closer, I caught glimpses of its true self: the glittering eyes between the disguised pedipalps, and the red legs partially hidden in the underbrush.

Feigning ignorance, I walked up to the pedipalps disguised as Namgung Seol and threw my arms around it in a tight embrace.

I acted as if I were completely mesmerized—because that was exactly what the spider wanted.

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

“Cho! Bite!”