TEOCH 31

After finishing our meal, we left the cave to practice more combat. My companions’ expressions weren’t great, and Rikiel and Tristan occasionally covered their mouths with pale faces, but I deliberately ignored it. I was already grateful they’d eaten everything without leaving any behind during their first meal of this kind. With time, they’d get used to this food too.

“Well, it wasn’t as bad as I thought, which is a relief. It’s less like spider meat and more like crab or shrimp in texture.”

“Sure, you get used to it. Compared to the food we’ll get later, this is much better. Those things reek horribly, taste awful, and… they’re intelligent and can communicate like humans.”

Damian stayed silent, too drained to even smile, and I yawned lazily as I walked. With ten spiders’ worth of meat stored in the cave, we wouldn’t have to worry about food for a while. We could stay in that cave for a few days with today’s haul, level up enough, and then head out to face the queen spider.

I pulled up the map in front of my eyes and thought about a good spot for combat practice. It was still too early to head to the queen spider’s nest at the northernmost point, but the smaller nests farther south were worth targeting. If we got lucky and encountered two or three spiders in a nest, we could gain experience and items without much damage.

Of course, we couldn’t let our guard down even with smaller nests. Like the fight in the cave earlier, if reinforcements rushed in and blocked the passage during combat, we’d be in serious trouble. Choosing a battle location required great care.

Were there too many spiders? Was there an escape route? Could reinforcements show up? Considering all these factors was the only way to ensure some degree of safety.

‘Well, once we’ve leveled up enough, we’ll need to practice group battles, but that’s for later.’

About thirty minutes into scouting the area, we spotted a dozen or so spiders scurrying out of a nest. They looked like they were heading out to hunt, which meant our chance had come.

If over ten spiders left a small nest like that, there’d probably only be two or three left inside. But there was one concern.

“Judging by the nest’s structure, there are probably white spiders in there too. Those webs covering the surface aren’t something cave spiders could make alone.”

“White spiders? Are they different from the ones we fought earlier?”

“Yes. The cave spiders we fought use paralyzing venom to attack, but white spiders spin webs to trap their prey. They’re less agile and strong than cave spiders, but their webs are quite troublesome.”

“But the ones leaving the nest look like the ones we fought. Doesn’t that mean it’s a cave spider nest?”

“It’s fairly common for cave spiders and white spiders to share a nest. In those cases, cave spiders hunt, while white spiders guard the nest and drive off intruders.”

I answered Rehas’s question calmly. He tilted his head, confused, but didn’t press further. His confusion was understandable. Cave spiders and white spiders are entirely different species, and normally, they wouldn’t share a nest, much like how ground wasps and hornets were hostile to each other.

But thanks to the queen spider’s overwhelming dominance, white spiders and cave spiders now coexist. I don’t know if they’re happy with that arrangement, but it’s not important to us anyway.

“The queen spider’s nest has both types of spiders. Facing just one kind might be manageable, but if both attack together, it’ll be tricky. So we need to practice fighting both kinds effectively.”

“I see.”

“Let’s take this chance to practice walking on spider webs. Don’t focus on defeating the white spiders—just concentrate on figuring out which webs to step on.”

The combination of cave spiders and white spiders is tough to deal with. You have to move carefully on the white spiders’ webs, but when cave spiders’ agile attacks come at you, dodging or defending becomes extremely difficult. One mistake, and we could collapse under their combined assault before even reaching the queen spider.

To make combat easier, we’d need to get used to walking on webs. If we could move as fluidly and cleanly as the spiders, white spiders wouldn’t pose much of a threat.

I cautiously stepped forward to peek inside the nest. Though called a ‘small nest,’ it was large enough for a dozen spiders, rivaling the size of a plaza. Inside, a couple of spiders were curled up. There might be a few more in blind spots, but even at most, it didn’t seem like there’d be more than four.

I quietly backed away to avoid detection and turned to my companions to explain the battle strategy. It wasn’t the most efficient approach. Based on past experience, explaining wastes time compared to jumping in and learning through action.

But rushing in without explanation would make my companions anxious, so I had to at least provide enough to reassure them.

“Before we go in, let’s go over some basics. Do you know about horizontal and vertical threads?”

“Horizontal and vertical threads? Like in weaving?”

“It’s about spider webs, Captain. Horizontal threads are the sticky ones used to catch prey, and vertical threads are the sturdy ones spiders walk on. I’m a hunter of animals, not spiders, so I don’t know the details.”

Rehas, knowledgeable about animal behavior, added clarification, and the others tilted their heads in curiosity. I nodded silently and continued.

“Yes, exactly. Well said. To avoid becoming spider food, we must never step on horizontal threads. Spiders have special oil on their feet, so they can escape sticky threads, but we’re different. We don’t have that oil, and even if we coated our shoes, we’d slip and fall onto the web.”

“That definitely limits our movement. Wait, can’t I burn the webs with my magic?”

“Unfortunately, no. These aren’t flimsy human-world webs. Unless you cut them with a purification-infused sword, they’re hard to break, and it takes a long time.”

Damian nodded with a bitter expression, while the others gave hollow laughs, exasperated. Well, if Damian’s fire magic could burn the webs, the boss fight would be too easy. The group seemed a bit discouraged, but Rikiel, trying to find some hope, spoke with a stiff expression.

“At least it’s easy to distinguish. Horizontal is bad, vertical is fine, right?”

“Well… it’s not that simple.”

“Not simple? Is there another rule?”

“We call them horizontal and vertical for convenience, but it has nothing to do with the actual web arrangement. Each spider builds its nest differently, so the rules for which threads are horizontal or vertical vary by nest.”

“So, you mean…”

“It’s easier to think there are no rules. If you’re lucky, you step on a vertical thread; if not, a horizontal one.”

I cautiously gauged their reactions. As expected, they looked dumbfounded. This is why I didn’t want to explain. It’s called a ‘different rule,’ but it’s practically random, and you can’t figure it out without physically experiencing it.

The group exchanged incredulous looks. After a long silence, Tristan was the first to speak.

“Well, surely… you can at least tell us a rough way to distinguish them?”

“That’s not hard.”

“…!”

“If it sticks when you step on it, it’s a horizontal thread. If not, it’s a vertical one.”

“Rohan? That’s it?”

“Honestly, that’s the only way I can explain it. I’ve got some knack for it, so I can tell instinctively, but putting it into words is incredibly difficult.”

I wasn’t trying to mess with them. I genuinely didn’t know how to explain it. Honestly, I was frustrated too. If I could explain my know-how, future battles would be much easier, but this was something I’d internalized through over twenty thousand attempts, and words couldn’t capture it.

Sure, I could force some explanation, but saying things like ‘I get a gut feeling right before stepping,’ or ‘I can’t shake the thought that stepping on this thread will trigger a game-over message, and sometimes I see Tristan’s face shimmering in the distance’—I couldn’t seriously say that.

Tristan stared at me, confused. His expression, full of hope that ‘Rohan will figure something out’ or suspicion that ‘maybe Rohan’s pranking us,’ was so pained it hurt to look at. He seemed even more bewildered than when he realized he had to eat spider meat.

“If that’s the case, so be it.”

“Y-Yes, there’s got to be a way…!”

“Just step exactly where I step. That’ll keep you safe.”

I realized it was a useless thing to say, but it was too late. With a light sigh, I led my dejected companions forward, moving silently.

“You’re getting the hang of it. For your first time, you did well, Your Majesty.”

“Rohan…”

“Yes?”

“How low are your expectations that you can say that so casually?”

“Honestly, I thought you’d fall at least a dozen times. You did better than that.”

“If I’d fallen two more times, it would’ve been exactly as you expected.”

“It’s fine. The important thing is you didn’t get hurt. …Oh, and Sir Rikiel, stop trying to use your wings every time you fall. Picking up bad habits will make it harder to get the hang of it.”

“Noted.”

It was a fairly rewarding battle. The nest only had two white spiders, and for someone comfortable walking on webs, it would’ve been a quick fight, over in less than five minutes. Of course, for someone who couldn’t yet distinguish horizontal from vertical threads, it was a different story.

It took my companions over fifteen minutes to defeat those spiders. They stumbled, unable to tell which threads to step on, tripping and falling repeatedly. Damian, with his poor physical ability, practically sat casting spells, while even Rikiel, with his good balance, slipped three times and flailed on the webs.

While they struggled to keep their balance, I darted around, cutting webs off their bodies and blocking spider attacks. I also kept an eye out for reinforcements.

Fortunately, the hunting spiders didn’t return, and my companions managed to balance themselves enough to fight. They looked like they wanted me to finish the spiders quickly, but I focused solely on assisting, not wanting to waste this rare practice opportunity.

In the end, Tristan’s sword took down both spiders. The experience was far from enough to level up, but practicing web-walking was meaningful enough.

“By the way, you’re a monster. How do you walk so naturally without falling, like it’s flat ground?”

“You did pretty well yourself.”

“I just followed the threads you stepped on. It’s not a big deal.”

“It’s your first fight, so that’s enough. I only avoid falling because of experience.”

Rehas grumbled while trying to peel webbing off his back. Despite his words, he performed the best among the group. Rikiel fell fewer times, but while Rikiel relied on natural balance, Rehas moved cautiously, as if he could distinguish threads.

He said he followed my steps, but that alone requires sharp memory and observation. He might be the first to master web-walking.

I stood and helped peel webbing off my companions’ backs. They were exhausted from the unfamiliar combat, but for me, facing just two spiders wasn’t tiring. I felt quite pleased with our successful battle.

That is… until Rehas casually tossed out a comment while I was struggling to remove webbing from Rikiel’s cloak.

“Experience, huh? Was this kind of thing normal in your world? If people like us lived there, we wouldn’t have lasted long.”

His offhand remark slowed my hands. Rehas, groaning and rubbing his aching back, watched me with sharp eyes.

It was the first time this cycle I’d heard that question. It wasn’t surprising—every companion asks it at some point. If Rehas hadn’t brought it up, someone else would’ve eventually. It’s a trivial question.

I used to agonize over how to answer, but not anymore. There’s no meaning in these questions. Meeting Rehas’s gaze, I replied quickly.

“Well, I don’t know.”

“Hm?”

“I don’t remember clearly.”

“Wait, it’s your world. You don’t remember?”

“I’ve been through so much in the demon realm that memories of my old world are pretty hazy. So I don’t recall.”

“…What?”

I yawned slowly and shook out Rikiel’s cloak. I’d finally removed the webbing, but the cloak was still sticky from adhesive. I handed it to Rikiel, but he just stared at me with a strange expression. Tilting my head, I draped the cloak over him myself.

“You don’t want to talk about it?”

“No, it’s the truth.”

“But it’s only been ten days since you came to this world. And…”

“Only ten days? Feels longer than that. Well, I don’t know.”

My companions’ reactions were predictably poor. Not just Rikiel and Rehas—Damian and Tristan gave me odd looks too. I told the truth because Rehas is sharp and would’ve caught any lie, but it didn’t seem to matter.

‘Oh well, it’s not a big deal. Whatever I say in this “event” doesn’t cause major issues.’

In the past, I’d been honest about my world. I’d admitted I was sucked into a game and forced to repeat this ordeal, pleading that I didn’t want to suffer here. But my companions always thought I was joking. No matter how much I cried or shouted, it was useless. The game’s system seemed designed that way. Just like when I tried explaining the truth to Tristan early on, it never worked.

So I tried lying a few times. I said my world was a living hell where survival wasn’t guaranteed, and that this world was easier. Or that my world was a paradise, and the demon realm was hell for me too.

Through tens of thousands of jests, I learned two things: my answers don’t affect the game’s progression, and my companions aren’t genuinely curious about my world.

So I started lying freely. Even if I repeated a lie, they didn’t notice, and as long as it was consistent, they believed me. They had no choice but to trust my words, as I was their only source of information about ‘another world.’

Maybe that’s why I began to doubt what my world was really like. I still have some memories—of my parents, family, school, work, my partner. But are those really my memories? What if I’m mistaking a story I made up for my past? What if my world was like the demon realm, as they believe?

I thought for a moment, then turned away. There’s no point dwelling on it. No one’s genuinely curious about my world, and honestly, I don’t want to think about such unsettling topics either.

“Let’s get moving. Time for the next battle.”

“But, Rohan!”

“…That’s enough, Rikiel. It’s rude.”

I turned to look at Tristan. He stared at the ground, not meeting my eyes. It was rare for him to use such a stiff tone, but I didn’t point it out and approached him. He flinched as I came near expressionlessly, but I ignored it and spoke.

“I haven’t cleaned the webbing off you yet, Your Majesty. Give me your cloak.”

“Thank you.”

It’d get dirty again in the next battle, but I silently took his red cloak and started removing the webbing. Tristan looked at me with an odd expression. His clear green eyes seemed unusually sharp today, so I turned away, avoiding his gaze.