With the spring crops nearly ready for harvest, I spent my days engrossed in woodworking back at the workshop. My current project was a medicine cabinet. Lu had requested it, so I was putting my heart into the work.
Even though I call it a medicine cabinet, it was essentially just a large unit filled with drawers. As long as I didn't get the dimensions wrong, it wasn't particularly difficult. I had received the specific drawer sizes from Lu: twenty centimeters deep, twenty centimeters wide, and sixty centimeters long. The cabinet itself was meant to hold ten rows and ten columns of these drawers. Seen from the front, it would be a perfect square.
First, I built the frame, and then I moved on to the drawers. The frame was easy enough; the experience I had gained from my previous projects was put to good use. I carefully measured and calculated every dimension, naturally accounting for the thickness of the wood as well.
However, I learned the hard way that you can't make drawers too snug, or they won't move. A bit of clearance is necessary. I was lucky I noticed that with the very first one.
Still, I had a problem. I had already cut all the pieces for every single drawer at the start. They were all ready for assembly... and it turned out my own precision had backfired. Should I shave the pieces down? No, it would be faster to just build a new frame. I wouldn't need many new parts for that, anyway.
I put together a new frame, and this time, the drawer moved smoothly. Not too loose, not too tight. It was perfect. With that settled, I buckled down to finish the rest of the hundred drawers.
The drawers needed decorative metal fittings and handles on their corners. These had been crafted by Gatto’s apprentices—a full set for a hundred drawers, plus ten spares. They were all impressively identical in shape and size; the craftsmanship was truly something to admire.
Installing them all by myself would have been a chore, but Zabuton’s children stepped in to help. Just having them fetch the drawers, fittings, and handles for me was a massive help. One way or another, it took some time, but the medicine cabinet was finally complete. Even if I do say so myself, it turned out quite well.
We set out to deliver it to Lu immediately. To keep the drawers from sliding out dangerously during transport, Zabuton’s children secured them all with thread. They really are a thoughtful bunch.
About thirty of them lifted the cabinet and began the trek through the mansion. Other spiderlings acted as scouts, guides, and door-openers. They were incredibly helpful.
We eventually reached Lu’s research room. Her reaction to the finished cabinet was excellent.
"Thank you. I’ll treasure it," she said.
I expected her to start organizing her supplies immediately, but instead, she began stuffing the same type of grass into every single drawer.
"Wait, did you actually just want one giant shelf?" I asked.
"No, that’s not it," Lu explained. "These are wards for the cabinet. I’m sure it would be fine, but I’m taking precautions just in case. It would be a disaster if the medicine started to degrade."
I suppose it was like a form of purification. Knowing Lu, she had her reasons.
"Let me know if there are any issues with it," I told her before heading back to the workshop with Zabuton’s children.
Back in the workshop, the first frame I had built was still sitting there. I wondered what to do with it. It felt like a waste to just take it apart. Should I make a new set of drawers for it? Or just use it as a simple shelf? It looked a bit like a shoe rack, but the slots were a little too narrow for that.
As I was pondering its use, several of Zabuton’s children started crawling into the openings.
For the fist-sized spiderlings, the slots were like spacious private rooms. For the magazine-sized ones, they were a bit of a snug fit. It seemed like these small spaces were relaxing for them.
"I see. In that case, should I make this a room for you all?"
The question was where to put it. Should it stay outside? Or would a spare room in the mansion be better? They seemed to prefer being inside.
"Understood. I’ll go get Ann’s permission."
"Since this mansion belongs to you, Milord, you are free to do as you wish," Ann said when I approached her.
She had a look on her face that asked why I even needed to check with her, but I wasn't fooled. Last time I’d renovated a spare room without asking, she’d been in a foul mood for days.
"That previous incident was because you covered the floor in dirt," she reminded me.
"I didn't just spread it everywhere," I defended myself. "I put down wooden boxes and only filled those with soil."
My goal hadn't been indoor gardening; I’d done it for Urza’s soil doll. I had wondered if the doll, which acted as a roomkeeper for Urza, would feel more at home in a natural environment. It was just an idea born from trial and error. As it turned out, the soil doll was perfectly fine with the room's original state. In fact, it seemed more stressed about Urza’s habit of leaving her discarded clothes all over the place.
In any case, I had permission to use a spare room. I installed the shelf immediately, but it was clear that there weren't nearly enough compartments for the number of spiderlings we had. The left-over children of Zabuton were all staring at me expectantly.
"Alright, alright. I’ll do my best."
I didn't need to make drawers this time, so it was simple work. Over the next three days, I built eight more sets of shelves. The spare room was officially transformed into a "Shelf Room." Even then, it wasn't enough for every single spiderling, but they seemed happy to share or take turns. It was a heartwarming sight, though I couldn't help but feel like I’d accidentally started some kind of insect farm.
Then, I felt a tug at my leg. It was one of the larger children, about the size of half a tatami mat.
"I get it. You need bigger shelves and another room, right?"
I honestly thought that once they reached the size of two tatami mats, they should probably just use the floor of the room itself rather than a shelf. But if I did that, we’d quickly run out of spare rooms.
"Alright. I'll make more... though I'm not sure 'shelf' is the right word anymore. I'll get another room ready for you, too. You all help me out so much, so don't worry about it."
The Shelf Room became widely recognized as a break room for Zabuton’s children.
A few days later, something strange happened in the first set of shelves used by the smaller spiderlings. Several of the compartments had been webbed shut. It was behavior I had never seen before.
Was it breeding? Or were they molting? They weren't gathering honey like bees, were they? The spiderlings in the neighboring slots insisted everything was fine, so despite my concern, I decided to trust them and leave them be. Over the next few days, more and more compartments were sealed off. Eventually, there were twenty-one of them.
A few days after that, just as the spring harvest began, the first sealed compartment opened.
A spiderling emerged, but it was a variety I’d never seen before. Still, it raised a leg to greet me just like always. It seemed that no matter how they looked, they stayed the same on the inside.
"There, there. Was it a molt? You're all shiny now."
Or perhaps it was a metamorphosis? An evolution? Either way, I decided to stick with calling it a molt. Different types of new spiderlings began emerging from the other compartments as well. The patterns on their backs were quite stylish, and some of them looked quite dignified.
"Hahaha, don't get so grumpy," I laughed as one seemed to pose for me.
When I went to show them to Lu and the others, their expressions turned stiff. Spiders aren't that scary, are they? I know they're women, but they usually interact with Zabuton's children just fine. Maybe it was just because these were new types they weren't used to seeing yet.
On the other hand, Alfred and Urza greeted them with plenty of energy. They weren't scared at all.
From then on, the Shelf Room also served as a "Molting Room" for the children. I wondered what they had done before this. Apparently, they used to find hollows in trees or similar spots.
"I should have made these for you sooner. My apologies."
As an aside, I eventually found the kitten, Uel, curled up asleep in one of the small shelf compartments.
"You don't have to squeeze into such a narrow place... Sorry about that, guys. I'll take him back right away."
The spiderlings signaled that they didn't mind.
"We're all helping each other out? You guys are too kind. I should try to be more like that myself."
As I made that silent vow, the sleeping Uel gave a drowsy meow, protesting that I was being too loud. Good grief.
Conversation between Lu and Ann:
"That's a Spider That Heralds Death, isn't it? The kind that was said to have destroyed an entire kingdom single-handedly."
"The form perfectly matches the descriptions in the historical texts."
"And the other one is a Curse Spider Elite."
"The type where it's said the threat of a swarm increases tenfold just by having one present."
"A swarm... honestly, even a single Curse Spider would be enough to cause a panic."
"Indeed. Living in this village, one's sense of common knowledge truly begins to warp."
"Doesn't it just?"
New types among the fist-sized children of Zabuton:
Immortal Demon Spider Also known as: Spider That Heralds Death. Feature: Possesses the Immortal Attribute.
Curse Spider Elite Also known as: Spider That Carries Death. Feature: Possesses Wide-area Recovery Magic.