Today, I've learned more than I ever expected—about both the monsters that roam this land and the grim reality of survival here.
I spent the day observing the spider den from a safe distance. There are more of them now, skittering about, some venturing further from the den. It's a tier-two structure now, the webbing thicker, the den itself larger and more menacing. So they indeed evolves... Great... As I watched, I began to notice something peculiar: just beyond the spider's territory, there were huts—small, crude buildings made of wood and straw. A familiar sight.The Pigmen.
I remember my encounter with those creatures days ago, how they terrified me, but now I was witnessing something remarkable. The pigmen and the spiders—two completely different species—were locked in constant battle. The moment a pigman wandered too close to the webbing, the spiders attacked. They swarmed him, but the pigmen are surprisingly strong. The lone pigman fought back, using an intelligent strategy: kite, hit, kite, hit. He'd strike, then retreat just far enough to dodge the spider's lunge before striking again. It was a brutal, almost elegant dance. And it worked—he managed to kill several spiders before being overwhelmed by the sheer numbers. He fought until the very end.
The sight was horrifying, yet enlightening. I watched as the remaining spiders tore into the pigman's corpse, a chunk of meat, devouring him without hesitation. What's more, I saw pigmen do the same—when a spider fell, the pigmen didn't let the opportunity pass. They ate the meat of their fallen enemies... and, disturbingly, their own kind if the chance arose. This world operates on a simple, brutal rule: kill or be killed, and waste nothing. There's no room for sentiment here. That's for sure and for me to learn.
From my vantage point, I've been able to study the spiders more closely. Their bodies are grotesque, misshapen things—large, half the size of a man, with six legs and an unsettling humanlike quality to their faces. Their movements are fast and erratic, skittering from side to side as they approach. They work in groups, but if one is separated, it's much more vulnerable. That's the key. Their strength lies in numbers, but alone, they can be picked off—just as I watched the pigman do. Kite, hit, kite, hit. It's the same method I'll use if I have to face them. One at a time, keep them at a distance, and strike when they overextend. The pigman may have fallen, but he fought smart. I'll do the same. There's no honor here, only survival, and brute force won't get me far.
I'm not sure what to make of the pigmen. They're primitive, but intelligent enough to build homes and form communities. They live on the edge of danger, constantly at war with the spiders, and yet they endure. There's a lesson in that, I think. But the way they consume their dead, without hesitation... it's unsettling. They're not like us—not really. If I have chance I want to observe them more.
The spiders, on the other hand, are an ever-growing threat. I've seen their den expand, and I know it will continue to grow if left unchecked. And eventually, if it reaches its final stage, just a theory but... a Spider Queen or something like that can emerge. Every den has a queen after all. I can't let that happen. I'll need to deal with the den soon, perhaps when I've gathered more resources and when I'm sure I can handle them one by one.
For now, I'll continue to watch. There's more to learn here, and the more I understand, the better my chances of survival.