Chương 9: Curiosity

As I continued traversing the forest, my thoughts repeatedly went back to the Tempest Hawk that I saw. During my previous life, I had never particularly enjoyed dealing with elves, though the reasons behind that sentiment wasn't too important for the time being. Suffice to say, our interactions had seldom concluded in ways that improved my opinion of their kind. So I found myself sincerely hoping that I would not accidentally stumble upon one during my travels.

Certain elves possessed an almost obsessive fascination with rare creatures. Considering I had yet to encounter another caterpillar remotely resembling myself, I felt rather justified in assuming I would qualify as an exceptionally unusual specimen. The prospect of spending the remainder of my second life inside a jar while some pointy-eared scholar enthusiastically documented my feeding habits was not an experience I had any desire to experience.

Pushing those rather unpleasant possibilities aside, I resumed my journey using the increasingly indispensable String Shot. Swing after swing carried me through the forest, and eventually, one particularly well-timed release sent me gliding into a small clearing, where I landed upon the trunk of a moss-covered tree overlooking an unexpected sight. Amidst the overgrown vegetation stood what had once been a modest wooden cabin. Thick vines crept over its walls, and ferns had taken root around its foundation.

The roof sagged slightly, while several warped planks had split or fallen away, exposing portions of the interior to the elements. Even so, the structure remained largely intact, leading me to estimate that it had been abandoned for only a few years at most. As I observed the cabin, something subtle brushed against my senses. A faint ripple of mana lingered somewhere within the structure.

It was weak, yet distinct enough that even my still-developing Basic Mana Sense could not mistake it for naturally drifting ambient mana. The problem was that I could neither determine its precise location nor identify the object responsible for producing it. But of course, such a mystery demanded investigation. Provided I exercised an appropriate degree of caution, exploring an abandoned cabin hardly seemed like too big of a risk.

If nothing else, I might uncover a useful magical artifact or perhaps gain some insight into whoever had once called this lonely place home. With my decision made, I crawled up the wooden doorframe. Upon reaching the upper edge of the entrance, I angled my body toward one of the roof beams and fired a strand of String Shot. The silk anchored itself securely with a satisfying tug. After testing its tension, I allowed myself to swing a few times, building momentum before releasing at precisely the right moment.

And after a brief flight through the stale air of the abandoned cabin, I landed atop an old wooden chair. From my perch atop the chair, I took a moment to survey the cabin's interior. One doorway opened into what appeared to have once been a kitchen, and another led into a modest bedroom. The third doorway, however, immediately captured my attention. Beyond it sat what looked to be a study, and unless my eyes deceived me, I could just make out the silhouette of a wooden desk standing near the far wall.

Now that was a room worth investigating, especially since I also detected some mana coming from that direction. With my destination decided, I climbed down from the chair and made my way across the floor. Every step had to be measured carefully, not because I feared the wooden floor collapsing beneath my rather insignificant weight, but because decades of accumulated dust and scattered debris transformed the journey into something resembling an obstacle course for a creature of my size.

Splintered wood and forgotten cobwebs were no longer minor inconveniences but towering obstacles. Fortunately, I possessed more than enough silk to overcome such trivial inconveniences. After navigating around a particularly impressive dust pile that rivaled a small hill from my perspective, I finally reached the study and began climbing the leg of the desk. Once I hauled myself onto the desk proper, I paused to examine my surroundings.

As expected, this surface had long since been stripped of anything remotely valuable, leaving behind little more than dust and cobwebs clinging to the corners. But, an empty desk did not necessarily equate to an uninteresting one. Before long, my attention was drawn to a series of peculiar imperfections near its center. They were not the random scratches or weathering one would expect from years of neglect, but something that looked far more intentional. I crawled closer until I stood beside the damaged section.

From my perspective, the depressions resembled shallow craters. The timber had been crushed inward multiple times in nearly the same location, radiating fractures through the surrounding grain. This was no accidental impact from a falling object. No, I had witnessed enough violence in my previous life to recognize the aftermath of repeated blunt-force trauma. Someone's head had been driven into this desk over and over again with enough force to permanently deform the wood.

An unpleasant image, certainly, though I could not deny a certain detached fascination with the sight before me. Unfortunately, the dents had softened beneath years of exposure, dust concealed many of the finer details, and whatever blood or other biological evidence had once existed had vanished long ago.

There was little hope of determining whose unfortunate cranium had suffered such treatment, nor could I estimate precisely when the incident had occurred beyond concluding that it had been several years in the past. Even so, the scene invited an intriguing question. What manner of confrontation had unfolded inside this quiet cabin? Had an enraged visitor repeatedly introduced the owner's face to the desk, or had something far more dangerous paid them a visit? This story is posted elsewhere by the author.

Help them out by reading the authentic version. Despite the many questions swirling through my mind, there was little hope of extracting anything useful from what little I could see now. As tempting as it was to indulge in increasingly elaborate theories, speculation without evidence had always struck me as an inefficient pastime. I then set the mystery aside and returned my attention to the far more immediate matter at hand: the faint magical presence I had sensed upon entering the cabin.

I was increasingly convinced that its source was somewhere within this very room. The challenge was no longer determining whether it existed, but pinpointing its exact location. Closing myself off from every unnecessary distraction, I focused on my Basic Mana Sense, allowing my awareness to stretch through the study in search of the elusive current of magical energy.

At first, all I detected was the faint ambient mana that naturally permeated the surrounding forest, but beneath that familiar background I gradually isolated another signature. The trace lingered within an old wooden wardrobe standing against the far wall, concealed somewhere beyond its doors. I could not yet determine precisely what rested inside, only that whatever it was possessed enough mana for even my still-developing senses to detect it.

Opening a wardrobe would ordinarily have presented a formidable obstacle for a creature of my admittedly unimpressive stature. But this particular wardrobe had been torn apart by both time and nature for years. Thick vines had forced their way through its joints, roots snaked between cracked boards, and several holes riddled the aging frame.

Most were little more than narrow openings, though they remained comfortably large enough for a caterpillar to slip through, while a much larger hole near the top of the wardrobe offered an even more convenient point of entry if needed. I climbed down from the desk, carefully navigating its legs before crossing the floor toward the wardrobe. Upon reaching the wardrobe, I began ascending its wooden door, and before long, I reached one of the holes and squeezed through the opening into the wardrobe's interior.

Contrary to my expectations, I was not greeted by complete darkness. A soft crimson glow bathed the cramped interior, illuminating the wooden walls with an eerie light. Within the wardrobe was a sprawling plant unlike any I had encountered before, its stems weaving through every available corner, and hanging from its branches were dozens of glowing crimson bulbs. Calling them fruits felt incorrect, yet neither did they resemble flowers or seed pods. Bulbs would suffice until I discovered a more appropriate term.

Now that I was up close, there could be no doubt whatsoever that this peculiar plant was the source of the magical presence I had sensed throughout the cabin. Yet the longer I observed the plant, the more an uncomfortable feeling settled in my mind. I could not immediately identify the cause, but something about it felt... wrong. But, I had ventured far too deeply into this abandoned cabin to retreat empty-handed merely because a magical plant inspired vague feelings of unease.

At the very least, I intended to determine whether these curious bulbs possessed any useful properties. With that objective in mind, I crawled toward the nearest glowing bulb, anchored myself against its stem, and sank my mandibles into it. The flavor of the bulb was unexpectedly delicious. Rich sweetness flooded my senses, accompanied by an almost intoxicating warmth that spread pleasantly throughout my body.

One bulb quickly disappeared, then another, as I methodically worked my way across the plant with growing enthusiasm. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I questioned how such a large, vibrant plant had managed to thrive inside an old wardrobe devoid of sunlight. It certainly was no fungus, and ordinary vegetation should have withered under such conditions long ago. Then again, magical plants had never been particularly interested in obeying the usual laws of nature.

[Experience awarded] [Stat Increased] [Mana +5] I had barely consumed more than a handful of the glowing bulbs when the System rewarded me with an astonishing increase to my Mana. Five points from such a small sample was quite. If devouring a mere few bulbs yielded such remarkable results, then consuming every last one within the wardrobe would surely elevate my Mana to even greater heights. So, I turned toward another crimson bulb, already anticipating its delightfully sweet flavor.

Before my mandibles could reach it, however, my body suddenly lurched backward. My first reaction was simple confusion. I dug my legs desperately into whatever surfaces I could reach, twisting and thrashing in an increasingly undignified attempt to halt my momentum, but my efforts accomplished precious little. Whatever held me possessed considerably more strength than I did, and it reeled me in with relentless determination. As I was pulled closer, the culprit finally emerged from the shadows.

Looming before me was a large spider. Eight long legs clung effortlessly to some vines as multiple eyes reflected the light cast by the magical bulbs. A strand of silk extended from its forelegs directly to my body, making it abundantly clear how I had been captured. The wretched creature had ensnared me before I had even realized I was being hunted, and now it reeled me toward its waiting fangs. The instant I understood my predicament, I activated Defense Curl.

My body folded inward almost immediately, my reinforced exoskeleton shielding the softer flesh beneath as I compressed myself into the most defensive posture available. The spider, however, adapted quickly. It scuttled over my curled body, its legs scraped against my carapace as it searched for a weakness. A sharp stab of pain shot through my body as they pierced my flesh. The miserable bastard had still managed to bite me despite my precautions.

What irritated me almost as much as the bite itself, however, was the question of how it had gotten here in the first place. Had it crawled into the wardrobe after me, or had it been lurking in the wardrobe all along, patiently waiting in the darkness for some unsuspecting fool to wander within reach? Considering I prided myself on my awareness, the latter possibility was particularly offensive. Even worse, a great many spiders were hardly renowned for delivering harmless bites.

As a creature who was, by technical definition, both poisonous and venomous myself, I found myself wondering whether possessing venom afforded any resistance whatsoever against another creature's. In the end, I could only hope that this oversized arachnid belonged to one of the non-venomous varieties, or failing that, that my peculiar physiology had granted me enough resilience to survive whatever poison was now coursing through my body.