The silkworms I remembered from my past would molt several times as larvae, growing larger with each stage, before eventually wrapping themselves in a cocoon to pupate and emerge as moths. Since those cocoons were made of a single continuous thread, the emerging moth would ruin it by creating a hole to crawl out. To secure high-quality silk, one had to boil the cocoons with the pupae still inside to prevent them from hatching.
It was a cruel process, as the boiled silkworms would naturally die, even if a few were spared to breed the next generation.
However, the silkworms in this world were quite different. For starters, they didn't just make cocoons to pupate; they also made them every time they molted during their larval state. They would spin a cocoon slightly larger than themselves and molt inside. Afterward, they would emerge from the cocoon, but they didn't have to break through it. When they constructed the cocoon, they used leaves to create a sort of door.
Because of this, the local sericulture industry simply collected these discarded cocoons to harvest the silk. I didn't know exactly why they had evolved this way, but in a world filled with monsters and magic beasts, perhaps they simply wanted to molt as safely as possible.
Regardless, thanks to this unique ecology, the sericulture workers here didn't need to boil their cocoons. When I had asked them what they did with their boiling pots, I ended up quite surprising them.
At first glance, it seemed like productivity would be incredibly high since a single larva produced multiple cocoons before reaching maturity, but reality wasn't quite that simple. For one, these silkworms were very picky; if they weren't fed food they liked, they wouldn't produce cocoons at all. They were also gluttons, likely because spinning so much silk required an immense amount of energy.
The silkworms here ate things other than mulberry leaves, and since each individual seemed to have its own preferences, identifying those tastes was a major part of a sericulture worker's job. Furthermore, the quality of the silk changed based on the diet, which meant the larvae had to be sorted carefully. Uniformity in thread quality determined its market value—in fact, it was hard to sell at all if the quality wasn't consistent. To manage this, workers kept the silkworms in separate rooms based on their specific diets.
Or at least, that was what I had been told. The Giant Silkworm currently residing on the World Tree appeared to be an exception.
First of all, it used its silk to attack. Aegis, the phoenix chick, had tried to peck at the Giant Silkworm only to end up tangled in golden silk, thrashing about in frustration. The silk was a stunning, brilliant gold. Aegis eventually managed to snip through it with his beak, but I couldn't help but chuckle. I wasn't worried about the silk going to waste, of course—Aegis was far more important.
"But you shouldn't attack others so carelessly," I scolded. "The Giant Silkworm isn't bothering you, is it?"
The Eagle, which also nested in the World Tree, simply watched Aegis with a gentle, patient gaze, as if thinking the chick couldn't be helped. It didn't seem to mind the Giant Silkworm at all. I wondered if they really got along that well.
Wait, were the Giant Silkworm and the World Tree in a symbiotic relationship? The tree provided leaves for the silkworm to eat, and in exchange, the silkworm protected the tree from other harmful pests. In a way, it was as if the World Tree was keeping the Giant Silkworm as a pet.
I see. That would explain why everyone was so calm.
As I was wrapping my head around the situation, the Giant Silkworm began spinning thread in front of its head, forming a ball. It grew larger than a baseball, eventually reaching the size of a small watermelon. Once it was finished, the silkworm tossed the ball of silk to me. I caught it and looked up at the creature.
"Hmph. Consider it rent. Just take it."
That was the vibe I got from its gaze. I see. The Giant Silkworm didn't consider itself a "pet" at all.
"Understood," I said. "I accept. You're welcome to stay here."
As I looked closer, I noticed several ten-centimeter-long silkworms behind the giant one. They weren't its children, but rather fellow silk-producers who favored the World Tree's leaves. They seemed to be conveying that they would pay their rent in silk once they grew larger.
"No, no, don't overexert yourselves," I told them. "Just focus on looking after the World Tree. And make sure you don't get into any fights with the Eagle."
I decided to leave the protection of the tree to the Giant Silkworm and its companions. I explained the situation to the gathered Minotaurs and Centaurs and encouraged them to head back to their duties.
"The silk ball the Village Head is holding... it's gold, isn't it?"
"Wait, isn't that the legendary thread used to weave the Raiment of the God of the Sun?"
"Don't be ridiculous. No one's ever seen that thread before. How could you possibly know?"
"But look at it! It radiates such divinity..."
Since they were clearly intrigued by the silk, I handed the ball over to the Minotaur Race. I told them I would appreciate it if they could process it into usable thread or even cloth.
Then, there were Zabuton's Children. I noticed them looking on and quickly told them they didn't need to start making thread balls of their own. They had already done so much for me over the years.
"Hahaha. Alright, gather 'round, everyone."
Kuro's Children had also joined the group. I spent the rest of the day playing with the spiders and the wolves.
That night, the children returned from Village Five. They were buzzing with excitement, their voices loud as they recounted their trip to the event facility. They had already eaten dinner there—lunch at Noodle Shop Buritoa and dinner at Sake & Meat Niz. I wondered for a moment if a yakiniku pub was an appropriate place for children, but I assumed they hadn't been served any alcohol.
Hakuren and the three High Ogre Maids who had chaperoned them confirmed that the trip had gone smoothly without any incidents. That was a relief.
As for things on my end, I mentioned that Granmaria and Kierbit had returned, and that a Giant Silkworm had taken up residence on the World Tree. I also noted that a short Angel had arrived with them. She had woken up, but she was so exhausted that formal introductions were pushed back to the next day. Perhaps the summer heat had gotten to her.
The short Angel's name was Suarlou. She was the mother of the twin Angels, Suarliu and Suarkou. I had thought she looked familiar, and it turned out she was their mother. However, I had to admit—at the risk of being rude—that she looked more like their younger sister.
I had noticed this with Malbit and Ruinshia as well, but the Angel Race truly didn't seem to age. Ria's mother, Rigne, was the same way. Come to think of it, Progenitor-san was the same. I knew I shouldn't judge people based on their looks, but I tended to be a bit softer on those who appeared young. Since Suarlou was so short, she almost looked like a little girl. I told myself to be careful and respectful.
Later that night, Zabuton brought a ball of thread to my room. This one was the size of a large watermelon and was pitch-black. It was so dark and dense that it felt like my gaze might be sucked into it.
Zabuton placed the ball in a corner of my room with an air that suggested she wouldn't take no for an answer.
"I understand. I'll accept it," I said. "Thank you. Is this spot alright? I could display it more prominently if you'd like."
She seemed happy with the corner. After she left, Lu and Tia came by and stared at the ball with wide eyes. They started whispering about "threads of magic power" and "the pure manifestation of magic" in very serious voices. I had to tell them that even if they wanted it, I wasn't giving it away.
As a thank-you gift for all the thread and clothes Zabuton had given me, I decided to finish the project I was working on. Usually, I carved simple wooden buttons, but this time I was going for something far more intricate. I was hand-carving Zabuton's likeness into each individual button.
I was almost finished, so I hoped she would look forward to them.
In the meantime, Lu and Tia remained completely mesmerized by the black thread ball. It really was a beautiful thing.