Chương 12: Book 1, Chapter 12: Creeping

Weirdly enough, it turned out that kappa were a lot more friendly when you told them that you'd come to deal with their forest's demonic spider infestation. Strangely, he still hadn't told them his name, but Yuki seemed unbothered, so he didn't push it. Maybe it was a yokai thing.

"Thank you for your aid," Yuki said, glancing down toward the turtle in the water.

"Don't get much tribute when there's a bunch of spiders mucking things up, do I?" the kappa said, shrugging, strolling next to John and Yuki but staying in the river. Ready to dive away into the depths at any point, John wagered.

"Still, we appreciate your guidance to the nest. It saves us a lot of time, and this must be dealt with promptly before the issue worsens. How long has this been going on? I have my suspicions, but…" Yuki replied, eyes scanning the tree line.

"Ten years, give or take a few months. They first showed up perhaps a season or two after the war started, but I don't think anyone really noticed them for a while."

"Ten years?" the kitsune asked incredulously, eyes widening, "Ten years, and they don't have a Greater Nameless amongst their numbers? I've seen moderate infestations produce terrible fruit in a fraction of that time."

"This province is poor as a beggar with a gambling problem," the kappa huffed, "The town nearby is probably the richest place for a three day's ride, and the forest is hardly used except by folk who would rather risk yokai than bandits." A frown creased his face.

"The colony was operating off an empty hoard for a long time, and even now, it's probably only a trickle of wealth coming in." Silence washed over the group as Yuki fell into thought, face quirked up as she chewed on the implications. From the corner of his eye, John saw the kappa keep glancing over to him, trying to formulate something but coming up short several times before finally opening his… muzzle-turtle beak thing. It still looked wrong to have teeth in a beak.

"John, right? You really just couldn't understand us?" the kappa curiously asked.

"Yes," he croaked out, nodding.

"Damn, that's a relief," the kappa began before grumbling, "I think you've made me lose a bet, though."

"And what bet is that?" Yuki cut in, a faint smile on her muzzle, even though she didn't turn to regard their guide.

"Ah, well," the yokai briefly stumbled over his own words, "Everyone in my little Shogi group either has a story about the Silent Exile or knows someone who does, yeah? One of my buddies put money down on you on this just being a misunderstanding that would get resolved. That bastard mujina's soft heart just won him the betting pool." He looked wistful for a second before his eyes darted over to John.

"No offence, of course. I prefer his take to be reality over mine, but I wasn't optimistic." Was that what he was to them, "The Silent Exile"? He had to admit, it had a ring to it, even if he wasn't a fan of being more a title than a person in their eyes. He scratched the title in his notebook regardless, as if he might forget it.

"And what was your bet?" Yuki asked, and the kappa looked suddenly uncomfortable.

"Well…" he trailed off, looking shifty a lot of the sudden with eyes darting to either side, "Don't judge me too harshly, but when this pool started three years ago, I assumed he was a criminal here to hunt yokai for bits, but he was just bad at it. Again, no offence." He turned to John at the end, and Yuki stifled a single vulpine chortle. He, admittedly, had no clue if that was meant to be a terrible insult or anything, but given how he was acting, it was presumably a big deal. Still, John waved it off.

"It's of no concern."

"Trust me when I say that if he were so inclined, he would have succeeded," Yuki harshly cut in. Was she… defending his capabilities? He supposed that it made sense to make her ally appear more capable, but she hadn't tried to pull the whole "Lord John" act here you'd expect, to begin with. Hmm. The local yokai would probably see right through it now that John thought of it. What was her lie, again? That this land was hers, and she granted the fort to him?

It certainly would be a hard sell after they had seen him living like a caveman and had never seen her before today. Regardless, the talk of her moving onto other land eventually… It hinted at social dynamics he previously hadn't considered. John supposed there had to be some system to keep people moving around and deal with power struggles between immortal entities, as you couldn't expect any natural attrition from age or infirmity.

The land being regarded as low value to the yokai was also interesting, and now her crashing here made sense. Her ambitions probably needed somewhere more valuable to worm into, although he knew not what would make a place such, so a location like this would be perfect for laying low and recovering.

"Eh, I certainly would have changed my bet if I could after he froze my cousin and watched him float sadly down the river. Apparently, he got quite a lot of looks from the town down the way, but none of those useless shits helped him," he grumbled, and a frown slipped onto John's face. Alright, now he was starting to feel even worse about it. Should he send a gift basket, or would that come across as too patronizing? Besides, what would he even give? Would cucumbers come across as too stereotypical?

Perhaps the town's market had some of those, but the only member of their group who could walk the street without fear was Yuki, and asking an entity ancient beyond measure to go on a grocery run for him sounded like a poor idea in the best of times. He scratched out a quick "Does your cousin like squash?" before showing it to the kappa. He blinked before nodding, slowly saying, "Yessss? Why do you ask?" Yuki tittered in a surprisingly stately and proper manner, light and airy on the ears, but he ignored her.

Flipping through his notes to find the words, he said, "Apology basket," but his rough voice made it sound like a growl. Ow. He winced, rubbing his throat. The kappa looked positively baffled, and Yuki laughed all the louder, now intercut with the occasional vulpine gekker.

"I wouldn't," the kappa sighed, "He's going to be absolutely mortified when he hears that you didn't understand him. Probably best to let him lie low and wallow in his shame rather than bringing it front and center." Why was he ashamed? John's frown only deepened. It didn't make sense.

"You're unfamiliar with kappa, I take it?" their guide asked, and John hesitantly nodded. The kappa snorted.

"We're creatures of honour. When he warned you, he didn't make sure you understood the warning before attacking. It reflects poorly on him. Sure, with people of this land, when the average townfolk knows where the local kappa live well in advance, we can assume they've already been warned, but foreigners…" He shook his head.

"Well, he should have tried writing or drawing something to explain before attacking, at least." That was strange to him. The guide did mention that kappa were honourable, and one of the surest ways to deal with one on land was to bow so the water spilled out of the bowl on their head, causing them to lose their unnatural strength. He assumed it was an involuntary reflex. Did they have a choice and did it anyway, even knowing the cost? He wasn't sure which distressed him more.

Still, he had to make it up the kappa somehow. Perhaps he could hire them to do something and overpay?

"I can smell tarnished coinage and feel the thrum of shaking web upon my spirit. We're near their nest," Yuki stated, striking any further conversation dead as John went back on high alert and cold fear shot through him. Even the kappa tensed.

"This close to the river? I didn't see that many around here…" he muttered, looking around uneasily, taking a step into deeper water.

"Shh," she shushed him. The kitsune looked almost like she was casually scanning the none-too-distant tree line, but John saw how her muscles tensed like tightly coiled springs, supernaturally powered cords threatening to snap into action at any moment. John, thinking quickly, pulled out one of the modified motion detectors from his pocket and activated it by clicking one of the counters onto it. Sure, they were meant to act as survey devices, but in a pinch…

He swept it over the forest, an invisible eye carefully tuned to the grim inhabitants of this land, scanning for threats. Tension hung in the air like an executioner's axe, threatening to fall at any moment, and sweat beaded on his brow, but he remained composed. He knew them. He had fought them. This would be no worse than before, especially with the addition of a mighty ally. Still, he couldn't escape the gnawing terror; it was like being hunted but not knowing where his pursuers were. Were they surrounded?

Was this an ambush? What would it cost him to get out alive? Click. He froze, eyes laser-focused on where he was pointing. He saw nothing but woodland. Slowly, more deliberately, John panned it over the area again, another quiet click sounding out as he passed near a tree. Now that he thought of it, that sapling beside it looked slightly off. He thought it was just an offshoot, but the way it bent looked almost segmented… Yuki looked over to him, and John inclined his head toward where the suspected spider lay.

After a moment, the kitsune's eyes widened, and she nodded. She mouthed something he could not understand. If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. Annoyance bloomed on her face at his dumbfounded expression, and she silently drew paper and ink from pockets using her woven tails. Yuki must not want to use her shadow-related powers. Why? Could they sense it?

"I smell more, but it's faded and buried under other scents," she wrote, eyeing up the indistinct shape. He wouldn't have even suspected it to be anything had he not used the sensor; they normally aren't that well disguised.

"These are in hibernation as hidden traps around the hive. See how there's a mole hole next to the limb's base? That would have collapsed if the buried Nameless had moved, and I can smell that burrow has been empty for a while. It's been there for months, at least." A shiver sped up his spine. Now, that was terrifying, and he counted himself lucky that he had never happened to wander into these parts of the woods before. He held up the makeshift scanner and slowly panned over the area. Click went the rock.

Click went the fallen log. Click went the gnarled tree stump. He took a cautious step back, holding up four fingers. The kappa sharply took in air and opened his mouth, but Yuki's arm blurred and clamped around his muzzle faster than John could make sense of, a silent snarl and a glare silencing him. Holy shit, just how fast was that? The speed and the precision were incredible. Still, if they were traps for the unwary who bumble into their territory, how did they trigger it?

Demonic spider things or not, hibernation implies lowered function… maybe getting close to them with something too valuable would trigger them to wake up like smelling salts? No. That can't be it. It would let a large group of people wearing rags right through, and someone like Yuki would be equally as dangerous in her fancy kimono as she would be in rags, not to mention someone who wore nothing at all like the kappa here would be unaffected. He scanned the area one more time and noticed an… irregularity.

Sometimes, the detector would pulse slightly, but not enough to turn the counter over. A signal, but it wasn't one strong enough to turn it over. Interesting. Usually, he'd expect such a result if a source is obstructed or too distant, but that shouldn't be the case here. Crouching down and taking a few steps to the side to verify, the signal appeared to be entirely surface-level. He waved Yuki over, and she crouched beside him, eyeing up where he pointed…

before letting out a quiet huff, tracing something he couldn't see back to one of the disguised Nameless.

"Silk webbing. It all leads back to the sleeping guards," she wrote, shaking her head.

"Now that I look more closely, it's all over the place. It's almost scentless, too. It's rather old." He quickly replied, "They have to navigate it somehow without waking them." He doubted they had the mental capacity to remember where all the traps were offhand; he knows from experience that they don't have fantastic eyesight like Yuki's, and if she could barely smell them, he'd wager those strands were too subtle to be used as consistent navigation aids.

"I'm not an expert on Nameless, but they probably have a special path somewhere. I know they like to use pheromones to communicate, so I bet it'll be marked that way." Her eyes stayed fixed on their foes' position the entire time she wrote, scanning, looking for something.

"Could you smell it?" John asked, cutting directly to the chase. After a moment's thought, Yuki nodded.

"Yes. What are you thinking?"

"We continue as planned and place the counters outside the mouth of those paths." It was a bit risky, sure… but those things really didn't enjoy sunlight, and it was hard to overstate how flammable they were. Besides, on Yuki's part, she had her whole light thing going on, which was presumably as hard of a counter as possible, not to mention her superhuman physicality. If all else failed, they could catch some ablaze and retreat to the riverside.

If they truly can't swim, it'd take him seconds to create an ice raft or bridge, then they'd be in the clear.

"Do we need the kappa anymore?" she asked. Did they? He'd probably bolt the second anything dicey happened, and who knows if him talking would have awakened the Nameless earlier. John shook his head. Yuki turned to their tag along and pointed to the water with a tail. He did not need more encouragement and spun on his heels, eagerly power-walking away into deeper water before disappearing with a splash as he dove. He could barely see his shadow on the top of the water as he sped back downstream. John envied him.

If he could get away with not interacting with the hell nest of bear-sized spiders, he wouldn't either… but this had to be done. If not him, then who? It wasn't as if he wasn't scared, but if he didn't get on this… things would only get more and more dangerous, and if there was one thing his time alone taught him, it was how to get tasks completed regardless of his feelings. He continued scanning the area, keeping careful track of the partial pings, slowly building a perimeter map.

Still, they were clear to proceed inland. Gesturing to Yuki, he pointed out the left edge of the hidden detection web and then mimed a circle.

"Want to circle the edge?" was the wordless question, and she resolutely nodded. John took point, carefully stepping up from the gravelly water's edge up onto the forest floor proper, carefully checking each step before heading forward, with his kitsune ally not far behind him. Part of him thought it strange that she couldn't pinpoint the Nameless' locations through Presence and smell alone, but he was no expert. Then again, there was likely a logical explanation.

They were in a forest ablaze with life; perhaps catching a few things deep in hibernation was like trying to pick out the sound of where a pin fell in a crowded room. Each step felt like a snare was tightening around his ankle, but he pressed on regardless. Slowly, the pair mapped out the edges of the area, with John occasionally stopping to scribble some notes down about the positions of the irregular sleeping "guards" they came across.

Some were less well hidden than others, and Yuki was able to point many of them out even before he scanned the area. A more recent addition had disturbed earth piles leaning against half-buried camouflage, making it look like somebody had buried something by shovel. Another had visible webbing where a bird had nested, pulling away bits for their bedding. Seeing them so… peaceful was strange, even if he knew they were functioning like biological landmines.

He jumped when Yuki placed a hand on his shoulder but managed to bite back a surprised yelp. For her part, she looked a tad sheepish of all things but pointed toward a section of land between two sturdy-looking trees. According to a quick scan, it seemed clear of any errant threads at ground level, but curiously, it had quite a few about seven feet off the ground. Much taller than the spiders themselves… but at the perfect height for someone like his kitsune companion. Clever.

He tapped his nose to confirm, and she nodded. Seeing a good hollow in a tree, he put on some freshly washed gloves, placed the device so the detection beam cut right across at what would be about torso level for them, then covered it in loose bark so only the sensor's aperture was exposed. He'd be shocked if they spotted something about a pinprick in size, especially since he made sure to give them a good wash beforehand to remove any lingering human scent. And then they were off again.

John counted the spiders as they went, and so far, he had detected at least two dozen. The guarded area seemed roughly circular, and he'd say it was probably around a hundred meters in radius were he to guess, but it could easily go oblong in some section they had yet to survey. Thankfully, the land stayed flat, so they didn't have to risk climbing and making noise.

They discovered two more routes through on their way around, making that an entrance on the east-south-east side nearest the water, one almost due north, and one on the west… and also at least thirty-seven Nameless acting as living traps interspersed throughout, with who knows how many deeper in. Yuki clicked her tongue to get his attention before tapping on his shoulder this time, and when he turned to regard her, Yuki was pointing past the latest spider at something white in the distance.

He squinted, trying to determine why she was so interested in a rock. It was not a rock. He could just barely see it through the forest, but it was a pale, dead tree wrapped in thick strands of what must have been spider silk like some kind of obscene mourning shroud. His breath caught.

"Nest," she wrote, and he nodded. Right. They must be dug in under it. That… complicated things. John expected an above-ground structure, one that he could burn easily, but even if he could manufacture explosives to drop down a spider-infested hole, there was no guarantee they'd have other exits, and he wasn't sure they even needed to breathe with how buried some of those guards have been for months. For all he knew, they would just dig themselves back up, and he'd be back to square one.

Maybe they could dig a channel to the river and flood it? It may work if they couldn't swim, as earlier mentioned, but he was unsure if that was due to a metaphysical weakness in water or something else. They may even have dips dug to prevent flooding. He sure as hell wasn't going in there to clear it manually, though. Something dark moved in a hollow in the middle of the trunk, and, to his absolute horror, a long shadowy leg draped in white thread reached out.

There was no way one was in there; there wasn't enough space. Yet, despite all logic and laws of physics, more and more of a Nameless dragged itself from a too-small hole, something sized for a bird's nest disgorging a spider the size of a brown bear like a horrific clown car. What the flying fuck was that? The whole trunk wasn't wide enough to fit one inside, never mind that. Still, the tree seemed unharmed, with the hollow itself still intact like it hadn't had several hundred pounds of bug through it.

Almost immediately, the Nameless started brushing leaves over itself, which got stuck in the webbing, and, thankfully, it didn't notice them. With one last shared glance, his of worry and hers of annoyance, they moved on again. They'd almost encircled the area now and were just about back to the water. It was too bad about the spider that just walked out from the woods about twenty feet in front of them.

It turned to regard the pair, and John was immediately reminded of why he didn't like dealing with the things, even from a safer position than this. Its legs were long and sharp looking; beneath the shroud of silk and forest debris they were indistinct, almost fuzzy, shadows, like reality couldn't decide where they should be as they occasionally flickered from one position to another.

The two front legs, the bladed ones, were more real, almost like they were carved from gray stone, and John could see faint bloodstains marring their surface, sending his heartbeat soaring. It was on the moderate end of size for its kind, perhaps five feet tall at the apex of its legs with how high the top joint raised up, although he supposed you could count it as four feet if you measured to the top of the meaty abdomen instead, and about eight feet across at the point of widest spread of its legs.

He glanced toward the spikes lining its back and limbs, which acted as tether points for the shroud, and aimed his gauntlet before hesitating as he accidentally looked at its eyes. Irregularly spaced around its face weren't spider eyes but human eyes, eight blue orbs looking around wildly, each bearing a different emotion from anger to sympathy to greed or more, frantically glancing around even as perhaps three darted between him and Yuki. It never stopped being distressing, and his heart started hammering faster.

The beast's chelicera parted, revealing not the regular mouth of a spider but instead something distressingly human once more. The out-of-place mouth was eerily familiar, but spun vertically and filled with lengthened teeth. It screamed like a man as Yuki smashed into it like a missile.