Chương 10: A Unique Specimen

The greatest irony of the entire ordeal was that I had always been fond of spiders. While most people regarded them with fear or disgust, I had considered them fascinating creatures. Many species possessed an understated elegance, weaving intricate webs that bordered upon artistry. But my admiration had its limits, and those limits were reached the precise moment one decided that I belonged on a spider's menu.

Whatever appreciation I might once have harbored for arachnids rapidly diminished as the brute continued biting me. Thankfully, my own poison proved considerably more effective than the spider's attacks. After several tense moments, the spider's movements gradually became sluggish, its legs losing their coordination before finally giving way altogether. [You have killed: Reelspinner Spider (Level 13)] [Experience Awarded] [You have Leveled Up! 13 >> 14] [Strength +1, Vitality +1] [A Skill has been Upgraded] [Defense Curl >> Defense Curl I] The attack left me disoriented for a time, and I could feel my vitality slipping away with each passing moment. Yet, I refused to yield. I gathered my resolve, forced my body to endure, and eventually the venom's advance slowed before stopping altogether. Whether the creature's poison had been weaker than I feared or my unusual physiology granted me some measure of resistance, I neither knew nor particularly cared.

The only result that truly mattered was that I had survived while the spider had not. And as an added bonus, the System saw fit to reward my victory. The fresh surge of strength accompanying my level up eased much of the lingering pain, while the upgrade of Defense Curl was an even more welcome reward. A victory deserved celebration, and I could think of no finer way to celebrate than returning to the remarkably delicious crimson bulbs.

First, however, I had to wriggle free from beneath the now thoroughly deceased spider. Once I had extricated myself from the spider, I gave the interior of the wardrobe one final, cautious inspection to ensure no additional unpleasant surprises lurked amongst the vines. Satisfied that the late spider had been hunting alone, I climbed back onto the magical plant and resumed my feast. One glowing bulb disappeared after another as I methodically stripped every branch bare.

Only when the last crimson bulb had vanished between my mandibles did the wardrobe finally fall into complete darkness. [Experience Awarded] [Stat Increased] [Mana +10] [New Trait Acquired: Corpse Eater] I stared at the notification in bewilderment. Of all the Traits the System could have chosen to bestow upon me, Corpse Eater had certainly not been anywhere near the top of my list. Just to make sure this Trait did what I believed it did, I gave the description a quick read.

[Corpse Eater] You can now consume carrion and other similar organic matter to gain experience. This trait also allows you to consume flesh if you had previously been incapable of doing so. The trait proved every bit as morbid as its name suggested, though I wondered what had those crimson bulbs had been if consuming them resulted in this of all traits?

My current best guess was that the magical plant thrived by feeding upon corpses, stripping it bare before converting the remains into those strangely delicious bulbs. It was an unpleasant theory, certainly, but one that fit the evidence rather well. But if the plant truly required a corpse to flourish, then why in the world had there been one inside a wardrobe? There had to be a story beneath all this, and I suspected it was considerably darker than simple murder.

However, leaving the cabin without testing my newly acquired Trait would have been an unforgivable waste. The System had gone through the trouble of granting it to me, so the least I could do was determine whether it was useful or not. The wardrobe had become pitch black after I consumed the final glowing bulb, leaving me effectively blind. Fortunately, my memory remained considerably more reliable than my eyesight.

I carefully felt my way through the darkness until I eventually collided with something cold, heavy, and covered in far too many legs. After moving up the arachnid's body, I sank my mandibles into it and began to eat.

Consuming the spider's corpse gave me some experience, though noticeably less than what I received for slaying it. Even so, the Trait was undeniably useful. In the future, whenever I felled a creature with my poison or venom, I would no longer be forced to leave its carcass behind once the experience from the kill had been awarded. Instead, I could at least squeeze some additional experience from the corpse.

I remained inside the abandoned cabin for several days, using it as a temporary refuge during nights while also conducting a search of every remaining room. Although, the rest of the building proved rather mundane compared to the wardrobe and its unsettling magical plant. Satisfied that I had extracted every worthwhile opportunity from the place, I finally departed and resumed my journey deeper into the forest, still intent on locating another magical creature unfortunate enough to cross my path.

Several hours later, I paused atop the branch of a tree to rest for a moment. The canopy parted just enough to reveal a pool of water amongst the surrounding greenery. Standing knee-deep in the pool was an elephant, though not as big as the ones I remembered roaming the great savannahs of my previous life. This forest-dwelling variety was noticeably smaller, yet it remained an undeniably magnificent creature.

I found myself content simply to observe such a splendid animal in peaceful solitude, but that pleasant moment did not last. Movement stirred within the undergrowth bordering the clearing, drawing my attention away from the elephant. Emerging from the dense foliage was a woman wearing a black cloak. Similarly colored gloves concealed her hands, while dark boots rose to just below her knees. If you come across this story on Amazon, it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.

Neck-length black hair framed her face, while her brilliant blue eyes calmly surveyed the clearing. Yet, my gaze soon locked onto the knife-like ears protruding through her hair. I stared for a moment, scarcely believing my luck. Against all of my hopes, I had somehow had the misfortune of encountering an elf. Some unpleasant memories resurfaced as I watched the elf walk across the surface of the water.

Elves were born with extraordinary affinity for magic, blessed with talent that most other races could only hope to attain through decades of study. Elves had also been exceedingly rare even during my previous life, so encountering one in the middle of an isolated forest was anything but ordinary. Assuming this world wasn't too different from the one I remembered, there had to be a reason for her presence.

Perhaps she was merely passing through on some errand, though that explanation felt almost disappointingly mundane. Her attire only made me question things even more. Elven culture had always placed tremendous importance on symbolism, and clothing was no exception. They generally favored pristine whites that represented purity, vibrant colors that celebrated beauty, or earthy greens and browns that reflected their reverence for nature. Black, however, was not a color I would normally associate with elvenkind.

I searched my memories and failed to recall a single elf who had willingly dressed in such an unrelentingly dark ensemble. It was so profoundly unlike them that I could not help wondering whether the garments carried some meaning I had long since forgotten, or whether this woman simply cared little for the traditions of her own people. Before long, the Tempest Hawk I had spotted a few days ago descended onto the elf's outstretched hand.

She quietly interacted with the magnificent creature for several moments, and once whatever exchange had taken place concluded, the hawk dissolved into motes of mana that drifted into the air. Tempest Hawks were not true animals at all, but instead, they were magical constructs created and sustained through sophisticated spellcraft. Once the construct vanished, the elf resumed her journey across the pool while the elephant ignored her. Then she stopped.

She turned her head as her gaze swept across the surrounding forest. The instant she looked in my direction, a deep sense of dread crept into my thoughts. I told myself she had noticed something behind me, or perhaps another creature hidden somewhere nearby, right up until she altered her course and began walking directly toward my tree. I could only hope she had not mistaken me for some fascinating new species worthy of preservation inside a glass jar.

If that was her intention, however, she was about to discover that I had absolutely no intention of cooperating.

Daelynn had questioned the Governor's decision from the moment the assignment had been placed into her hands. Dispatching a Warden of the Elven Empire to collect overdue taxes from a handful of insignificant frontier villages struck her as a spectacular misuse of resources. She had suggested that the task be delegated to one of the countless human revenue officers already stationed throughout the province.

They were, after all, employed for precisely such menial duties that should be far beneath her purview in her humble opinion. The Governor had rejected the proposal though, explaining that too many of those officers had quietly overlooked unpaid taxes, no doubt allowing sentimentality and misplaced kinship with their fellow humans to cloud their judgment. It was exactly the sort of weakness Daelynn had come to expect from the lesser races.

That understanding, however, did little to improve her opinion of the assignment itself. She found little pleasure in interacting with humans under the best of circumstances, let alone spending weeks going through a forest merely to remind several forgotten villages that the Empire had not neglected them. Should the villagers prove reluctant to pay, Daelynn intended to educate them personally on the consequences of defying imperial law.

Pain remained a reliable teacher, and humans, despite their many deficiencies, usually learned remarkably quickly once sufficient motivation had been applied. Her Tempest Hawk had already confirmed that the first settlement lay somewhere beyond the forest ahead. At her current pace, she expected to arrive at the nearest frontier village within a week. The journey remained uneventful until she reached a pool of water in the middle of the forest.

But as she walked across the pool, she spotted an elephant, which was boring. But, she also spotted a rare creature, a caterpillar unlike any other. The caterpillar's vibrant body was adorned with rows of venomous spines. This was a Spinecrown Caterpillar, an exceedingly rare species. Their venom possessed an exceptional reputation among alchemists for both its potency and remarkable stability. Properly refined, it could become any number of useful concoctions, ranging from subtle paralytics to agonizing toxins.

Daelynn had already been considering how best to encourage a measure of obedience from the frontier villages. A demonstration involving carefully administered poison suddenly seemed like it would do well to serve her goals. She walked towards the caterpillar, intending to collect the creature. To her mild surprise, the caterpillar reacted almost immediately. A strand of silk shot toward a neighboring tree before the tiny creature launched itself through the air using its silk to swing back and forth.

Daelynn slowed as she wondered if the insect had somehow sensed her intentions. Caterpillars should be incapable of the sort of reasoning required to anticipate danger beyond the most primitive survival responses. But then again, rare species did occasionally display some unusual adaptations. Perhaps this caterpillar was special even amongst its species. Daelynn quickened her pace, and the chase became unexpectedly entertaining.

The tiny creature swung gracefully from branch to branch, propelling itself through the forest with admirable ingenuity despite its diminutive size. Daelynn almost found herself impressed, but she did grow tired of the chase eventually. With a lazy motion of her hand, she cast a spell, and thin roots burst from the forest floor, wrapping around the fleeing caterpillar and pinning it firmly against the trunk of a nearby tree.

The creature struggled furiously, turning toward her as she approached before firing strand after strand of silk in a desperate attempt to drive her back. Daelynn sidestepped every shot without the slightest difficulty. She continued walking until the caterpillar's frantic silk assault slowed before ceasing altogether as it became exhausted. Only then did she kneel beside the trapped creature.

As a precaution, she coated her gloved fingertips in mana before commanding the roots to tighten around the caterpillar's body, though this was not to crush it. Instead, they applied just enough pressure to force venom to bead along the tips of the caterpillar's spines. Once the droplets had gathered, Daelynn carefully grasped one venomous barb between two fingers and gave it a twist, separating it from the creature's body.

The caterpillar writhed violently as Daelynn deposited the spine into a small crystal vial before extracting another, then another, repeating the process until she had harvested a respectable collection of venomous spines. The creature continued squirming throughout the procedure, and there was something satisfying about observing the limits of a living creature's endurance. It suffered, certainly, yet it never ceased resisting.

By the time Daelynn removed the final spine she desired, it was time to decide what she wanted to do with the insect. There was a moment when Daelynn considered taking the caterpillar with her. A living specimen capable of producing fresh venom indefinitely would certainly possess practical value. Yet, as she released the caterpillar from her roots, the tiny creature fled with such frantic desperation that Daelynn decided to just watch it disappear into some brush.

In the end, Daelynn saw no reason to keep the caterpillar. She had never needed its venom in the first place; acquiring it had simply been something she decided on a whim, and the barbed spines she wanted were already in her possession. They would eventually regrow, but not for quite some time, and she had neither the patience nor the interest to keep the creature alive for long.

Besides, the caterpillar remained poisonous even without its spines, and the absence of obvious defenses would only make it more deceptive. She found a certain amusement in that thought. That maybe, in the not too distant future, some fool would decide that the caterpillar looked harmless enough to touch, only to discover the truth far too late.