The Arachne finally had a name.
Arako.
...I know.
Don’t look at me like that.
I was the one who provided the list of candidates, but Arako was the one who chose it. Besides, Arako the Arachne—it’s straightforward, isn’t it? Is it really that bad?
Stop looking at me with those pitying eyes. And Rusty, you don't have to resolve right then and there to name your own child yourself just because of this. I’ll admit I’m not the most confident in my naming sense, but I’d at least like you to hear my suggestions.
Arako’s activities were centered primarily within the dungeon. She was on friendly terms with both the Lamia and the Giants, so there weren't any problems on that front.
"What's this? You want to raise a new monster?" I asked.
In the dungeon? Wouldn't that be dangerous? Was she sure it was okay? Really?
"Hmm, well... as long as the Lamias and Giants give their permission, I'll allow it. Is that fair?"
She seemed satisfied with that. I made sure to tell her to report back to me before actually doing anything. I was really counting on her to keep me in the loop.
Still, raising a new monster... I wondered if that was a natural trait of the Arachne. Come to think of it, it was one of Zabuton's children who had brought the bees to us. Perhaps the entire species was just naturally inclined to be caretakers.
Speaking of the bees, I had added several new hives this spring. I was initially worried about whether the proximity would cause territorial disputes, but they seemed to be doing just fine. In fact, they’d requested even more flowers.
To accommodate them, I created a massive flower field—about two hundred by two hundred meters—on the north side of the fruit area. Without worrying about specific varieties, I simply visualized "beautiful flowers" and let the Universal Farming Tool do the rest.
That had been back in early spring. Now, a dizzying variety of flowers bloomed in a magnificent, chaotic display. Sunflowers stood right next to thistles, hydrangeas, morning glories, roses, and rapeseed... Looking only at the ones I recognized, there wasn't a shred of seasonal consistency. Not that it mattered to the worker bees; they were far too busy buzzing from blossom to blossom in search of nectar.
Seeing Kuro’s children relaxing in the flower field was a peaceful sight.
Meanwhile, the civil official girls were growing increasingly busy. I could feel the village festival drawing near. For my part, I was busy corresponding with Michael-san from Shashato City. Now that the private school and the inn were finally taking shape, I needed to communicate my specific requirements. I planned to go there a few days before the grand opening to give instructions on-site. Regarding the inn, I figured I should start training the employees about a month in advance...
Wait, I was overthinking it. It would be better to leave that to Michael-san or the local staff who actually knew what they were doing. I didn't actually know the standard for an inn in this world, after all.
I wondered what their training was like. They probably did it, but the relationship between shops and employees here followed a strict apprenticeship system. It was what I would call "indentured apprenticeship." Employees would live at the shop or commute there, learning the trade while they worked. Since the prevailing philosophy was that "an environment where you can learn a trade is an asset in itself," newcomers were paid almost nothing. Wages only started once you were recognized as a full-fledged worker. However, since the shop owner was responsible for the employee's room and board, they never went hungry.
Most shops were run that way, including Michael-san's. This meant that while they did train their employees, they took a very long time to do it. No shop would ever let go of an employee they had spent so much time refining. Similarly, an employee who had finally learned the ropes and started earning a wage wouldn't dream of moving to a new workplace. Consequently, most of the potential staff for the new inn were complete amateurs.
That made me uneasy. If Marcos and Paula could act as trainers, I’d feel better, but they were already busy with their own shop. In the end, I decided I would go there for at least a week to teach them myself.
Decision made. I would ask Beezel or Progenitor-san to teleport me. Since the festival was coming up, I’d discuss the timing with them soon. Oh, but first, I had to tell Lu and the others.
Just then, my eyes met Kuro's.
Are you going somewhere? his gaze seemed to ask.
I really wished he wouldn't look at me like that. This was for work.
The kittens lined up right next to Kuro, all giving me the exact same look. Oh, come on. You guys never line up like that. Since when did you learn how to be this tactically cute?
"...Fine. I’m not going. I'll just have the employees brought here to the Village of the Great Tree instead."
I’d give them a crash course, just like I did with Marcos and Paula. I wrote a letter to Michael-san explaining the plan.
A few days later, a reply came back from Michael-san: "Please, I beg of you, spare them such cruelty."
...Why?
A little while after that, he sent another message saying he had managed to secure several people with experience in the lodging industry, so I shouldn't worry. Well, as long as there was someone capable of teaching the others, it was fine by me. I just wondered how he had "secured" them. I hoped he hadn't done anything too reckless. I’d have to ask him about it the next time I visited Shashato City.
Eventually, Arako brought a monster's child into the dungeon. Since she’d asked for permission beforehand, I didn't object. It was a lizard-like creature known as a "Dungeon Walker." It was already about a meter long, and yet it was still just a child? I wondered how big it would get as an adult.
Ria told me she didn't know the specifics, but she remembered seeing one that was roughly twenty meters long.
I was on the verge of telling Arako to take it back where she found it, but she was staring so intently at me that the words died in my throat.
"You have to raise it properly, okay? You can't just throw it away once it gets big."
Looking closer at the Dungeon Walker, I realized it had another one hidden on its back. No, wait—it wasn't just one. There were ten more. They were much smaller, only about ten centimeters long.
"...Is the one-meter one the parent?"
No? They were all children? I see. Well, alright then. I told her she could expand the dungeon if it got too cramped and warned her that they all had to get along. No fighting allowed.
Apparently, the Dungeon Walker was a lizard-type monster with excellent night vision. They were known for crawling along walls and ceilings to ambush intruders. The superior ones could even use magic, and adventurers supposedly called them the "Grim Reapers" of the dungeon.
The Grim Reaper? For something this cute?
"In certain regions, they are also referred to as Earth Dragons," Ria added.
"Are they part of the Dragon Race?"
"No, they aren't related to them at all."
I figured as much. Still, "Earth Dragon" was much easier to say than "Dungeon Walker." I wanted to use that name, but I checked with the actual dragons first... and they didn't seem to mind.
So, Earth Dragons they were.
"Ah, hey! You kittens, stop picking on the Earth Dragons. Just think about what’ll happen when they’re full-grown."