So I'm a Spider, So What?, Vol. 8

by Okina Baba

  When all is said and done, the only thing I can always rely on is myself and my own two swords.

  The flame katana and the lightning katana.

  They’re real, proper magic swords, unlike the one-use-only land mine and exploding swords.

  Since they’re shaped like katanas, maybe it would be more accurate to call them magic katanas.

  Just as the names imply, they’re imbued with the powers of fire and lightning respectively.

  If I channel my MP into them, the blades become enveloped in flame and lightning, explosively raising their attack power.

  They can shoot fire and lightning as well, allowing me to keep enemies away at midrange.

  On top of that, just equipping them raises the wielder’s defense, granting resistance to fire and lightning, and even increases and heals HP and MP.

  It’s not as effective as skills, but since they decrease damage and help with healing, they’re incredibly useful for long battles.

  And since they can even automatically repair damage to their own blades, they’re virtually indestructible, as long as they aren’t completely destroyed in a single attack.

  Making swords with this many useful effects was difficult even for me.

  I’m extremely proud of them.

  I even used the Naming skill to give them names, enhancing their effects further.

  The Naming skill gives a name to objects or living beings, which improves their effects, raises their stats, and so on.

  Naming living things can also give the namer influence over the named, so if a living creature doesn’t have a name, giving them one can place them under your power.

  The naming alone doesn’t have that much effect, but if used in combination with other skills, you can even control the named living thing completely.

  Which is how I…

  An awful memory comes to mind.

  I shake it off, trying to regain my composure.

  After they formed such a large-scale hunting party, I doubt the humans will give up so easily.

  In fact, now that they know that such a dangerous monster exists, they’ll probably get even more desperate to defeat me.

  They’re not wrong to think that I’m a danger to humans, so I can’t blame them for making that call.

  Still, that doesn’t mean I don’t find it aggravating.

  Anyone would be angry if they were attacked like that.

  As long as they’re going to keep coming after me, I’ll make preparations and be ready for them.

  I’m not going to try to reach an understanding with humans now.

  Humans can’t be trusted.

  In fact, I’d like to wipe them all out.

  Dark emotions start to well up inside me.

  The taste of blood fills my mouth.

  At first, I thought I must have clenched my teeth so hard that I bit my own cheek, but then I realize that I’m biting one of the adventurer’s corpses.

  The tastes of blood and flesh in my mouth trigger old memories, bringing back the rage I felt back then.

  All that fury threatens to take over my mind, but I shake my head rapidly, fighting it off.

  Not good.

  I have to remain calm.

  It’s all right. I’m fine.

  I haven’t lost my composure.

  I have to stay calm and prepare for the humans’ next attack.

  Tearing the dead adventurer to pieces with my mouth, I start thinking up my strategy to kill the next humans who come after me.

  THE OLD MAN IN MOURNING

  A heavy silence permeates the rocking carriage.

  Even an old man such as myself would not venture to make a joke in this atmosphere.

  The beautiful scenery of the imperial capital unfolds just outside the carriage window, but inside, the mood is dark and melancholic.

  But this much is understandable, considering our destination.

  Seated across from me, Tiva closes his eyes and bows his head grimly.

  Tiva was in charge of leading the imperial army’s attack on Sariella in order to support the Ohts Kingdom, but thanks to the attack on Keren County by those spiders I was following, that invasion is no longer possible. Instead, we are returning home.

  Tiva was investigating something else, too: the recent cases of children being kidnapped.

  These abductions are happening not just in the empire but all over the world, and Tiva is in charge of leading that investigation.

  At first, people suspected someone was capturing children and selling them as slaves.

  But now, the scope has become even bigger.

  The current theory is that a sizable organization is undertaking these crimes for a greater purpose.

  In order to crush this organization and rescue the kidnapped children, Tiva led an imperial army to chase after the kidnappers.

  However, the search has been less than fruitful.

  They located a hideout of the organization, but the only people they were able to capture were hired thugs.

  There was no sign of whoever is running the organization and no further leads hinting at its true purpose.

  If even this large-scale investigation turned up neither hide nor hair of the leader, they must be quite formidable.

  And now, we are headed to the home of one of the families victimized by these kidnappers.

  A mother whose baby was kidnapped three years ago.

  As you may gather from the state of our carriage, it is not good tidings we carry.

  No, it is grim news indeed.

  However, it is not the child’s death we must report.

  “Sir Ronandt, I do not think you need accompany me inside.”

  Unable to bear the silence, Tiva speaks.

  He has said the same thing countless times since before we entered the carriage.

  However, my answer is the same.

  “How many times must I repeat myself? It is my burden to bring this news.”

  “But—”

  “Enough!”

  My sharp tone silences Tiva at least.

  I am the one who brought this information back to the capital to begin with.

  I will not let anyone else bear this burden.

  Tiva stays silent, perhaps sensing my determination.

  The carriage proceeds through a quiet aristocratic neighborhood, finally stopping in front of one of the mansions.

  For a noble family’s home, it is rather small.

  That in itself is nothing unusual.

  However, this mansion’s overall appearance separates it from the rest.

  The garden is in ruins, and the house itself is damaged and dirty.

  It’s obvious at a glance that it hasn’t been properly tended to in years.

  The place is in such a terrible state that the entire grounds seem to give off a dark atmosphere, even in the middle of the day.

  A listless butler stands waiting for us in front of this desolate house.

  “Welcome. Thank you for coming.”

  The butler bows respectfully.

  Tiva and I bow briefly in return, then follow the butler inside.

  Unlike the outside, the inside of the mansion has at least been minimally cared for.

  The relative lack of furnishings makes it seem a bit dreary, but it has certainly been cleaned quite well.

  And yet, the bleak, dark atmosphere remains.

  The butler brings us to the parlor, where the master of the house is waiting.

  “Thank you for coming today.”

  The lady we’ve come to see bows her head automatically.

  The practiced gesture is just the same as I remember it last, but her appearance has changed drastically.

  She looks…gaunt.

  She used to be an impressive beauty even by the imperial capital’s standards, but now she’s a shadow of her former self.

  Her skin has lost its luster, her body has grown weak and emaciated, and she has aged far beyond her years.

  Having seen her in
her prime, the effect is shocking.

  Knowing that I have to tell her something that will only drive her deeper into despair, even I feel hesitation.

  Now I understand why Tiva kept repeating himself.

  He was trying to stop me for my sake, but perhaps most of all, he wanted to prevent putting these people through any further suffering.

  But still, I have no choice.

  This is something she must know.

  “It’s a pleasure to see you again, Sir Ronandt.”

  “Quite.”

  Normally, I should respond that she’s looking well, but I cannot bring myself to tell such a blatant lie.

  Given my uncharacteristically hard demeanor and Tiva’s glum silence, the woman has probably already guessed that we’ve come bringing bad news.

  Her already pallid face grows a shade paler.

  “I shall get straight to the point.”

  Once we’ve finished our greetings and a lady-in-waiting has brought us tea, I cut to the chase.

  “Sir Ronandt…”

  “No good can come of beating around the bush, Tiva.”

  Tiva is clearly signaling that I’m moving too fast, but in this case, I think it best not to hesitate.

  The lady of this house is a smart woman.

  No doubt she has some sense of why I requested that we meet today.

  If I drag out the conversation now, I will only cause her more anxiety.

  Sooner or later, I must tell her the truth.

  So it’s for the best to do it as quickly as possible.

  “Buirimus is dead.”

  At first, she doesn’t react to my blunt words.

  Or rather, I should say she can’t react.

  She freezes up without so much as a blink, leaving Tiva and I to hold our collective breath in silence.

  Time passes this way, until eventually the woman’s eyes begin to waver.

  Then, as if the meaning of my words has finally sunk in, she undergoes a quiet but drastic change.

  Looking upward, she covers her face with both her hands and begins to sob with a muffled voice.

  Tiva and I sit in silence still, watching over her quietly.

  As the woman weeps, I think back on my memories of Buirimus.

  Truth be told, I didn’t interact with Buirimus very often.

  He was a talented summoner, one of the prominent masters in the empire.

  As such, we had occasion to meet a few times, but that was true of most any of the influential people in the empire.

  We weren’t close enough that I could call him a friend, and while he seemed to respect me as a higher-ranked mage, I doubt Buirimus felt particularly close with me either.

  One could say that we were more than acquaintances but not yet friends.

  We would have had no relationship of note at all, until that incident.

  The incident when we encountered that great being in the Great Elroe Labyrinth and found ourselves fighting for our lives together.

  This was four years ago, when Buirimus and I led an expedition of elite troops into the Great Elroe Labyrinth in order to locate a mysterious monster that had been sighted within.

  According to eyewitnesses, it emitted such a dreadful aura that it was clear at a glance that this monster was a force to be reckoned with.

  At the same time, there were also rumors that its actions showed a surprising level of intelligence, so the summoner Buirimus was sent in the hopes that he might be able to tame the monster.

  Of course, I was accompanying them in the event that the monster was indeed so evil that it needed to be destroyed.

  But the mission ended in disaster: except for Buirimus and me, that great being wiped out the entire force.

  At the time, I had too much confidence in my powers.

  I was convinced that surely no monster could ever be stronger than I, even though I knew that legendary monsters existed, well known as beings too powerful for any human to face.

  It was this hubris of mine that brought about that tragedy in the labyrinth.

  If I had not burned that great being’s nest so rashly, perhaps the massacre could have been avoided.

  I know there is no use in dwelling on such things, yet I cannot help but think of it.

  Now, if events had ended there, I would still feel regret, but I doubt I would feel so indebted toward Buirimus.

  Certainly, I would still feel the guilt of letting his subordinates be annihilated, but perhaps we still could have drank together as fellow survivors.

  However, this was not to be.

  The higher-ups of the empire decided to place all the blame for our terrible loss squarely on Buirimus.

  That great being, who is now known as the Nightmare of the Labyrinth, ventured into the wider world after our encounter and began to wreak havoc.

  Rumors spread that it had left the labyrinth because our party had provoked it.

  I do not know if this is truly the reason that great being went outside.

  But even if not, it was very unfortunate timing.

  As soon as the Nightmare left the labyrinth, it destroyed an Ohts fortress, then took up residence in Sariella—Ohts’s sworn enemy—and began to help them.

  Notably, Ohts is an ally of the empire.

  If the empire took actions that had a negative effect on their ally, they couldn’t possibly ignore it.

  Someone, somehow, had to take the blame.

  And that responsibility fell to Buirimus.

  He and I were the only two survivors.

  And none of the higher-ranked officers were willing to step forward and shoulder the blame.

  Normally, that would mean that both of us would have been held responsible, but my position prevented this.

  I am the empire’s leading court mage. In other words, I am the strongest mage in the empire, and some even say I am the strongest human mage in the world.

  Perhaps I, too, believed that before I met that great being, but now such an empty title brings me no joy.

  But for the empire, it carries a great deal of meaning.

  They can use my name and power to intimidate other nations and keep them in check.

  Since the conflict with demons has quieted down, the Renxandt Empire has lost some of its prestige.

  The sword-king whose skills had earned him the reputation as a god of swordsmanship suddenly disappeared, and without the threat of demons hovering over them, the government officials grew corrupt.

  Dishonorable nobles began to flaunt their power, and even the better ones compared the sitting sword-king to his predecessor and found him lacking.

  And of course, if there is discord within the empire, then those outside it will begin to lose their faith in its strength.

  Thus, if they wanted to avoid harming their increasingly tenuous position, the officials of the empire could not afford to sacrifice me, one of their precious trump cards.

  Following this logic, those in power made it the official story that I was not involved in the Great Elroe Labyrinth incident.

  Thus, though the blame should have fallen on both of us, it landed on Buirimus’s shoulders alone.

  I was given the sentence of house arrest, scarcely more than a slap on the wrist, while Buirimus was sent away to the Mystic Mountains in the northwest, a much crueler fate.

  The Mystic Mountains is an unforgiving mountain range on the border, populated by countless powerful monsters.

  It’s such a dangerous and rarely explored place that it’s on par with the Great Elroe Labyrinth, so being stationed there is essentially a death sentence.

  Yet, Buirimus accepted this fate and left without voicing any protest about the decision.

  Even knowing that his wife had finally given birth to their first child.

  “This is quite the stroke of bad luck. I’ve just learned that my child has been born, yet I must be in this dark cavern without even seeing the child’s face.”

  I remember Buirimus’s crooked smile as he said this
in the Great Elroe Labyrinth.

  There was bitterness in his words, but it was eclipsed by the optimism in his eyes.

  The face of a father excited to meet his child.

  When we faced the master’s fearsome attack, and he bought me enough time to activate Teleport, I have no doubt he was thinking that he refused to die before seeing his newborn child’s face.

  And survive he did, only to be sent away to face certain death once again.

  As soon as his treatment was finished, no less.

  Which meant that he never got to meet his child before leaving.

  On top of being denied the moment he had so looked forward to, even if he did return from his dangerous posting, he would still carry the burden of being the one officially responsible for a failed expedition.

  And there was no guarantee that he would come back alive at all.

  From his wife’s perspective, her husband had returned with near-fatal wounds, only to be sent away to his possible death without even the chance for a reunion first.

  I can only imagine the heartache she felt.

  And part of the blame lies with me, too.

  I allowed the leadership to place the blame on Buirimus, and still I live free of consequences.

  Of course, in deference to that guilt, I wanted to do all I could to support the wife he left behind.

  “Thank you, but the thought alone is more than enough.”

  When I ignored my house arrest and visited this mansion, his wife politely declined my offer.

  “I have always known there was a possibility that something might happen to my husband someday. I married a soldier, after all.”

  She offered me a fleeting smile.

  Though she was putting on a brave face, even her makeup could not hide the redness around her eyes.

  “He did everything in his power to come home, I know. And since he came back alive this time, I’m sure he’ll be back again.”

  First she claimed to be resigned, but this statement of hope said otherwise.

  I know not how to describe my feelings in that moment, except perhaps embarrassment.

  At the time, I was fully prepared for her to curse or shout at me.

  But I never imagined she wouldn’t think to blame me at all.

  She had no thoughts to spare for anyone but her husband.

  I didn’t occupy even a fraction of her thoughts.

  I had assumed in my egotism that my existence would be a matter of great import to her, that she would blame me for what happened to Buirimus.