So I'm a Spider, So What?, Vol. 8 Page 2
That means I usually pull a hood down over most of my face to make it hard to see.
Even then, someone might catch a glimpse by chance, so I usually default to keeping my eyes closed while we’re in town.
As a result, the people in towns we visit wind up thinking that I’m a blind, sickly young noblewoman.
Me, a noblewoman? No waaay.
Oops. Even now, I can’t be sure nobody’s looking.
Heaving a sigh, I close my eyes.
When I do that, I become even more painfully aware of the carriage swaying, which makes me feel even sicker, but I don’t have much of a choice.
In fact, the group bought this carriage specifically for me, so I’d be a huge jerk to complain about it now.
That’s right. We bought this because I keep passing out all the time.
Otherwise, we wouldn’t be able to get anywhere quickly.
I’m so wimpy now that I can’t walk along even flat ground for too long.
So of course there’s no way I could keep up with the others in the mountains and forests we’ve been traveling through so far to avoid being seen.
All that said, now that deification has given me a more or less human appearance, we’ve got one less reason to avoid being seen in the first place.
I guess that could be considered a lucky break.
So now that we can use actual roads to get around, the Demon Lord was nice enough to buy this carriage with her own pocket money.
I know, pretty bougie, right?
I guess she’s had all kinds of jobs before this demon lord gig, so now she’s loaded.
I don’t know how much a carriage costs, but I’m guessing it’s not the kind of thing a normal person can just pick up on impulse.
Still, this was a necessary expense.
Yes, my inability to travel on my own was a big part of it, but there’s another problem that was just as important.
Namely: our stuff.
Until now, we’d been storing all the stuff we needed for our journey with my Spatial Magic.
Spatial Storage is a spell that conveniently lets you put objects into a separate dimension and take things out or put things in whenever you like.
And since everything goes into another dimension, it doesn’t take up space or weigh anything.
It’s the perfect spell for carrying luggage.
But now I can’t use magic anymore.
And I was the only one of us who could use Spatial Magic.
In other words, we now have to carry all the stuff that we were able to just stow in Spatial Storage until now.
Not to brag, but my magic abilities were pretty crazy, which means I was able to fit a considerable amount in Spatial Storage.
So carrying all that stuff on our backs would be a bit difficult.
Given the Demon Lord’s and the puppet spiders’ stats, I’m sure they could manage somehow, but that would require some enormous backpacks.
That seemed a little silly, which was why we wound up with this carriage.
As an aside, we only managed to get all the stuff that was stuck in my Spatial Storage because Güli-güli was nice enough to retrieve it for us.
I don’t know if he used his administrator’s authority or if he simply manipulated space to force my Spatial Storage open or what, but otherwise we would have lost all our stuff, so I’m grateful.
Spatial Storage is a form of magic, so you have to provide it with magic power to keep it going.
With my magic abilities gone, it would’ve eventually run out of the power I put into it, and the whole pocket dimension would have disappeared along with everything inside.
Thank you, based Güli-güli.
That being said, I was shocked at the amount of stuff he pulled out.
I’d just been shoving things in there without thinking, so it really piled up over time.
We’re talking the meat and parts of monsters I’d hunted, things like that.
And the clothes and stuff that the puppet spiders and I had been making to kill time.
Plus a set of camping tools and so much cookware and spices that I half expected to see a literal kitchen sink come out.
Really, there was no end to it all.
It was way too much to cram into a single carriage, so we had to dispose of some, as much as it pained me to do so.
We bought the biggest carriage they had, and that still wasn’t enough to keep everything.
Still, it’s big enough to fit all of us with room to spare, plus it has a separate space for luggage.
I think it’s supposed to be for merchants traveling long distances.
Of course, that means it’s super-heavy, so it’s bound to be tough on the horse pulling it…but this is a fantasy world, remember?
This isn’t actually a horse-drawn carriage. It’s wyrm-drawn.
The creature’s shape does resemble a horse, but its face is definitely that of a wyrm.
Specifically, it’s an earth wyrm, the kind that’s actually used fairly often in place of a horse in this world.
It’s got way more strength and stamina than a horse, and since it is still a wyrm, it’s totally battle ready, too.
That being said, its stats are all around the low hundreds, so I’m not really expecting too much from it.
But this wyrm is pretty impressive from a normal person’s perspective, making it the best possible creature for pulling a carriage, or so I’m told.
I mean, it’s a substitute horse, but it’s also an earth wyrm.
As I experienced firsthand with Araba, earth-type wyrms and dragons all share a deep code of honor.
These guys are no different. They’ll only obey someone who they’ve accepted as their master.
Which also means once they decide that’s what you are, they’ll be loyal to you for life.
Oh, by the way, as you may have gathered from me saying these guys, we’ve actually got two earth wyrms pulling this carriage.
It’s a two-horse—no, two-wyrm carriage.
Does that mean it runs on wyrmpower, not horsepower?
Anyway, these earth wyrms are popular because of their loyalty, but since they also have to acknowledge you as their master first, your stats have to be at a certain level or they’ll never obey you.
They usually obey only knights and stuff, who usually ride on top of them directly as cavalry mounts.
Putting that all together means there’s not a whole lot of people who have an earth wyrm pulling their carriage.
Never mind two.
Obviously, we stand out a little bit.
And by a little bit, I mean a lot.
On top of that, when people find out it’s mostly just young girls riding in this already unusual wyrm-drawn carriage, we stand out even more.
More than half our members appear to be little girls, and Mera’s the only man to be found.
Given this unique setup, we tend to be the subject of a lot of gossip in every town we visit.
Usually, I pass out in the local inn as soon as we arrive, so it’s Mera and the Demon Lord who end up gathering that sort of information.
Speaking of which, we better get to an inn soon, or there’s gonna be trouble.
This carriage moves way too much!
My butt and my inner ear are under attack here!
Seriously, it’s not funny.
If anyone out there is thinking, A carriage can’t bounce around that much, I invite you to try it out for yourself sometime.
There aren’t any paved roads here, either.
Some of the bigger roads are paved to an extent sometimes, but not the rural back roads like this one.
We’re talking the bumpiest dirt roads you’ve ever seen in your damn life.
Take a carriage onto a road like that and there’s going to be some serious jostling.
You ever been sitting and had your butt bounce right out of the seat?
It’s just like an amusement-park ride.
Except it’s not fun at all
!
Thanks to that, my whole body hurts (especially my butt), and getting bumping around in every direction is making me feel sick.
Throw in my now-pathetic physical stamina, and you’ve got a recipe for disaster.
Once we get into town, the bouncing lessens a little bit, but by now the pain, discomfort, and queasiness have taken their toll.
The Demon Lord really splurged on this carriage, so it’s about as good as they get, but it’s still rough on this new body of mine.
I mean, this is loads better than walking on my own two feet, sure, but still not ideal.
What I need right now is a bed that doesn’t shake!
Ah, once we get to the inn, I’m gonna sleep forever…
“White? Whiiite? We made it to the inn, okaaay? Uh-oh, you don’t look so good. You’re not just pale anymore; you’re white as a sheet. I picked the right name for you, huh?”
Um, aren’t I always white as a sheet?
I do feel worse than normal right now, though.
“Merazophis, would you do the honors?”
“Yes, of course.”
The Demon Lord doesn’t need to specify further than that.
Immediately, I suddenly feel someone directing murderous wrath toward me, but I’m just gonna ignore it.
Definitely my imagination.
My limp body is gently lifted off the floor of the carriage.
I don’t have the energy to open my eyes, but Mera must be carrying me bridal-style.
That’s what usually happens when I go down like this, so I’m used to it by now.
I’m also not surprised by the creeping sensation that someone wants to kill me, which I’m still ignoring.
I can’t help it, okay?!
If I could stand on my own right now, I would! Believe me!
But I can’t, so I got no choice but to have Mera carry me like this!
Like, come on. Everyone else in this group basically looks like a child.
Sure, because of their stats, some of them are a lot stronger than they look.
But don’t you think it would stand out a little too much if a tiny girl was carrying a grown-ass woman over her shoulder?
The Demon Lord’s not as small as the others, but there’s still a major difference in size between us.
If anything, since Mera’s the only man in our group, people would probably give him looks if he let anyone else carry me.
Which means it’s inevitable that Mera has to carry me, okay?
So quit blaming me, Vampy!
Don’t start turning into a crazy stalker when you’re still basically a toddler.
If I open my eyes right now, I’d probably spot a wee vampire glaring at me with a face straight out of a horror movie, so I’m just gonna keep ’em shut like dead weight.
Well, it’s not like the dead-weight thing is an act anyway.
Opening my eyes would seriously be more trouble than it’s worth.
Instead, I just let myself get carried until I’m lowered onto a bed.
Ohhh.
It’s soft. It’s not moving. Am I in heaven?
Actually, it could be a little softer, but this is an inn in some hick town in the middle of nowhere, so I’m not gonna complain.
Right now, I’m happy just to be able to lay in a real bed.
Yep. I’m not lifting a single finger.
Gonna go right to sleep!
Good night.
THE OGRE’S ORIGIN
I’ve always hated crooked things.
When I close my eyes, I can still picture that village as vividly as ever.
It was a small village, so small that even with a child’s stride, running its entire length would take almost no time.
The door of the house across from mine was slightly warped, and a stain on the house behind mine was in the shape of a bird.
Such insignificant things are precious memories to me now.
As I walked around that village, my little sister would run with all her might to keep up with me.
She still couldn’t speak very well, so I don’t know where she got all that energy, but still, she stuck close to me, never leaving my side for a moment.
Even I couldn’t help but dote on such an adorable little sister.
Even if she wasn’t human.
Green skin, a wrinkly face vaguely reminiscent of a monkey’s, and those cute round eyes all added to her charm.
She bore a strong resemblance to the race called “goblins” that often appeared in fantasy stories in my old world.
Which made sense, because that’s what she was.
And since my younger sister was a goblin, that meant I was, too.
I don’t know how it happened, but I just woke up as a goblin one day.
That’s the only way I can explain it.
I still remember my former life, if I can call it that—my life as a human, as Kyouya Sasajima.
But those memories cut off abruptly in the middle of an classical literature class in high school.
I have no idea how those memories connect to me becoming a goblin.
But I knew right away that this wasn’t a dream and that I would have to live as a goblin from now on.
And while most people might find this strange, I actually quite enjoyed life as a goblin.
A small, simple village, with none of the complex branching side streets of Japan.
Instead of complicated human relationships, the villagers all shared a close bond, possibly because of the harsh environment in which we lived together.
And most of all, goblins are a simple, straightforward race.
In the fantasy stories of my old world, goblins were often depicted as the weakest and perhaps stupidest of the “demi-human” races.
That wasn’t entirely inaccurate here.
However, the impression they give in reality is very different.
There were many monsters in the mountain range where the village was located, and goblins were among the weakest of them.
But they’re strong enough to fight against those strong monsters by working together.
They might be weak as a race, but they make up for it with tools, skill, and the strength of their camaraderie.
And while they’re considered dim-witted, that’s only because most of them are illiterate. A short talk with them makes it clear they’re no different than the average human.
They have enough intelligence to live an average life perfectly well.
If anything, I gained a sense of reverence from watching them, like monks who have achieved a level of enlightenment.
They carry a certain nobility that makes it impossible to mock them as stupid.
Especially if you’ve observed them simply going about their daily lives like I have.
Every day begins with a prayer.
They give thanks to the world, the goddess who protects the world, and their daily bread.
After that, they set about their work.
The goblins who haven’t evolved undergo training, and the ones who have evolved into hobgoblins help train them.
Then those who are strong enough form a hunting party and head out from the village.
The village is nestled deep within a steep mountain range, a dangerous natural environment brimming with powerful monsters.
When the goblin-hunting parties set out on their task, only about half of them return.
The reason the goblin village manages to survive despite this is that goblins reproduce quite a lot.
All of this is more or less in line with my image of goblins from my old life.
When the hunting parties return, the other goblins welcome them back and mourn the fallen.
Then they say a prayer of thanks for the food that the hunters risked their lives to bring back.
Goblins must constantly face death so the village can survive.
Those who stay behind offer them pressed flowers for good luck.
Each gift of flowers contains a strong, intense wi
sh for the hunters to return safely.
The hunters hold those feelings close to their hearts as they set out on a life-and-death journey and return.
In order to live.
And to keep the village alive.
In a few words, the lives of goblins seem primitive, mainly revolving around hunting.
But there is a strong sense of purpose that can be gained from this way of life, one that wasn’t present in my old life in Japan.
Fighting in order to live; dying so that others might live.
There is no good or evil in that cycle, just the brilliance of life.
As I watched them live this way, my admiration deepened.
I hoped to fight for the village one day, just like the hunting parties did.
So that my little sister who followed me around could live.
That was all I wanted…
Without so much as a cry, a young man falls to the ground with a sword through his chest.
His body sinks into the white snow, dyeing it a deep red.
In a few moments, severe blood loss will kill him.
“Dammit! Shit!”
Another man readies his sword and swears.
He wears fur armor, the garb of a savage tribe.
The humans known as “adventurers” often wear armor and weapons made of the monsters they have slain.
Equipment fashioned from a monster’s parts sometimes inherits a certain degree of that monster’s power in life. So while fur might not seem very protective, it probably still carries some of the defensive power of the monster it once belonged to.
Clearly, it’s not just there to protect the man from cold.
The man’s stance is proof enough of that. He has the air of a human who’s accustomed to fighting.
But even he can make mistakes.
In a panic, he lets out a yell.
A decision that leaves him wide open.
“Gah?!”
The man goes flying backward.
He managed to block the sudden attack with his sword.
But getting caught by surprise has thrown him off balance, or perhaps his opponent is simply too strong, so his defenses are down.
Unable to completely cancel out the attack, he’s knocked back and collides with a nearby tree.
The tree lets out a dry sound and cracks under the strain.