Dungeon Overlord: Monster Girl Harem!-Chapter 177: The Matriarch’s Web

The humans screamed as they burned in her silk.

Thalisa moved through the ruined streets on eight crimson-tipped legs, her massive lower body crushing stone beneath her as villagers tried to crawl away from the web-lined walls. Their homes had been split apart, webbed shut, dragged into silence. The moment they broke formation, they were prey. Her prey.

One screamed for mercy.

She didn't grant it.

Her fangs punched through his throat and snapped clean through the spine. Blood spattered across her silk-draped chest, but she didn't flinch. Her mandibles clicked softly as she looked to the next trembling figure—a woman, older, holding the charred remains of a child.

"You should have run sooner," Thalisa whispered, her voice smooth and eerily calm.

She skewered the woman through the stomach with a leg and moved on.

Behind her, the younger Arachne followed—six of them, all lesser daughters, newly grown and trembling with the scent of fresh kills still clinging to their claws. They said nothing, but their bodies pulsed with instinctual reverence.

Thalisa had evolved.

She was no longer just the eldest.

She was the Matriarch now.

Her humanoid torso was taller, leaner, but even more refined—plump breasts wrapped in golden cords, delicate sheer silks that exposed far more than they hid. Her six smaller eyes twitched rhythmically, her two main eyes locked ahead with perfect clarity.

"Strip the bodies. Feed the younger spawn. Secure the inner square. I want every remaining male webbed and hanging by dusk."

The daughters bowed in unison, chittering softly in the ancient tongue.

Only one hesitated—a younger Arachne with a scar across her cheek, blood still fresh on her mandibles.

"My Matriarch," she said, dropping to one knee. "The last human lord begged for mercy. He offered land and gold."

Thalisa stepped close.

Then raised one long leg and carved a perfect line down the girl's cheek, mirror to the first.

"You're Arachne. You don't beg. You don't listen to begging."

The girl shuddered, but nodded.

Thalisa smiled, lips parting just enough to flash her fangs.

"Burn his manor. Then prepare the contact crystal. I will speak to him tonight."

The flames still crackled in the distance as Thalisa stepped into the old church ruins, now webbed beyond recognition. Stone pillars had been bound in silk, stained red by dried blood. The altar had collapsed hours ago, crushed beneath her weight when she first arrived.

Now it was her throne.

Thalisa's legs curled beneath her as she lowered her massive body, silk hissing against stone. Her humanoid half stretched upright, framed by veils of gold-threaded fabric. One daughter placed the obsidian contact crystal into her waiting hand. Another adjusted the sheer wrap across her chest with delicate precision.

The Matriarch exhaled slowly.

Then fed mana into the crystal.

It pulsed once, then flashed, revealing Leonhardt's image, distant but clear. Stood in front of a burning city, yet as always, calm and untouchable.

Thalisa lowered her head just slightly, the motion submissive.

"Master Leonhardt."

Her voice was smoother now, more resonant—evolution had refined it into a silkier, deeper pitch.

"Munat has fallen."

She didn't embellish.

"The village lies beneath the dungeon's reach. The remaining humans were either devoured, converted… or displayed."

She lifted one claw and dragged it slowly along her bare stomach, just above the split where her spider abdomen met flesh.

"I left the web-lanterns intact. Your emissaries may arrive freely now. The dungeon core is stable. All resistance is silenced."

She tilted her head, smiling with her ruby red eyes.

"The Church presence has vanished completely. Their priests fled two days before our arrival. I believe they knew what was coming."

She touched the side of her face, the cracked web-mark of a holy ward barely visible beneath her jaw.

"One of them tried to bless the ground. I fed him to the newborns."

The crystal flickered slightly under her clawed grip.

"I await further orders. If you wish it… I will build an altar here. Or breed, if that's your command."

Her abdomen shifted subtly—hot, twitching, fertile.

"Your web reaches far now, Master. I only ask for more."

Then she paused.

The growing heat within her with each exchange, the only man she wished to breed with didn't even look her way... and that drove her mad.

Jealousy, Obsession and Lust....

There, where soft, pale skin met the hardened sheen of her chitinous lower half, lay the most obscene contrast of all. Nestled in the cleft of smooth, curved flesh, her pussy glistened—dark, wet, and inviting.

Fleshy folds parted slightly with each breath, puffy and flushed with heat. The lips were swollen, almost glossy, drenched in arousal that clung in delicate threads between the edges.

Despite the monstrous beauty of her form, her sex remained unmistakably female—human in shape, but in no way ordinary. The skin around it was flawless, flushed in a way that betrayed desire rather than modesty, framed perfectly between the flexing ridges of her lower torso.

It pulsed faintly—an unconscious throb, slow and hungry. A soft twitch ran through the mound as her claw reached lower, not touching yet… but close enough to make the air between her thighs thick with scent.

A cunt that didn't need words to tempt.

It simply waited—wet, knowing, and meant to be used.

As she spoke, her thighs shifted subtly, just enough to part the flesh around her glistening entrance.

Though Leonhardt wasn't there, not in body, his voice still lingered through the magical link—low, cold, commanding. Every word he spoke sent a shiver down her spine, and her body responded before she could stop it.

Her pussy grew wetter, arousal blooming like a fever between her legs.

She kept her face composed, regal, even as her fingers slipped just out of sight, teasing the slick edges with slow, deliberate strokes. The lips parted further, exposing the twitching, needy heat she dared not show him. Not yet.

Softly.

"...I wish to see you again. Not through glass. But beneath me. Inside me."

She waited.

Eyes glowing.

Fangs bared in reverence.

————

Meanwhile, to the deep south, in a castle bordering the Astrea Basin...

Kaito leaned back in the plush velvet chair and kicked his feet up onto the polished stone table. The boots were still stained with mud from yesterday—he hadn't cleaned them. Didn't plan to.

Let the servants do it.

He sipped from a goblet he hadn't filled himself, eyes fixed on the scrying mirror in front of him. The reflection didn't show his face. It showed the city—Astrea—burning. Flames licked the sky like hungry fingers. It was kind of pretty, actually.

He smirked. "Dumbasses."

To his left, a priest cleared his throat. "Lord Kaito—"

"Shut up," he said, without looking. "I'm watching."

The priest stiffened, but said nothing more. Good. Kaito hated it when they tried to lecture him. Just because he didn't wear the robes or recite the dumb holy lines, they acted like he was some failure. Like the goddess didn't choose him.

He'd been summoned, dammit.

He was the Hero.

The strongest.

He'd tried using his Mind Grip skill on that blonde saint girl a while back—Erina or whatever. Didn't work. Same with the red-haired freak and the icy glasses girl.

Hmph. Defective women.

But there were others. The girls in this castle were way easier. He just had to look at them and think it hard enough. Minds like pudding.

Kaito snapped his fingers. A maid froze in the doorway, eyes glazed. He didn't even look at her.

"Take off your clothes," he muttered, still staring at the fire in the mirror.

The maid started unbuttoning without a word.

He grinned. "Better."

Still, the fire made him nervous.

Whoever was doing this—burning cities, raising goblins—it was getting too loud. Too close. He didn't like people drawing more attention than him.

He was supposed to be the centre of the world.

And if someone else wanted to be king of monsters, they'd have to die.

The maid dropped her dress without a word. Pale breasts. Slender waist. She was the lord's daughter or niece or something. He forgot which. Didn't care.

Kaito didn't even look her way. Just yawned and spread his knees.

The room was quiet.

Too quiet.

Across the table, Lord Vallis of Surn looked like he'd swallowed ash. His fists were clenched against the stone. Veins were visible on the back of his weathered hand. Hair grey at the temples, cloak deep green, trimmed in southern gold.

"Hero," Vallis said at last, voice low. "That girl is my blood."

Kaito shrugged. "She's cute. You should be proud."

The maid's hands trembled as she reached for his waistband. No one moved to stop her.

Because they couldn't.

Because the kingdom had decided—this idiot in a summoned body, this perverted boy from another world—was holy.

"I called this meeting," Vallis said slowly, carefully, "because the city of Astrea is burning. Because The lord and Endo are dead. Because the northern trade routes are about to collapse under monster activity we can't explain."

Kaito raised an eyebrow. "So?"

"You don't see the problem?"

Kaito smiled. "It's not my city."

Someone at the far end of the table cursed under their breath.

Vallis didn't move. Just stared at the hero—the man they were supposed to follow.

"The flames are spreading. Whoever's leading the goblins… they're organized. Military-trained. They've reached the seventh ring in under two days."

"Good for them," Kaito said, reaching lazily for the goblet again. "Let them burn it."

"You were supposed to lead the army."

Kaito finally turned toward the old man and grinned.

"Maybe I'll lead them when they reach me."

Then he looked down at the girl between his legs.

"And maybe I'll finish first."