High up in the vast, open sky.
Riding on the back of Gral in her dragon form, Zabuton's children wore expressions of grim determination. At a signal from one of them, they began leaping from her back in pairs, one group after another.
There were thirty pairs in total.
Once they were airborne, the spiderlings used their posture and legs to skillfully control their descent. The thirty pairs moved with such coordination they looked like a single, living organism.
That organism had a target: an eagle soaring through the clouds.
Having locked onto their mark, Zabuton's children accelerated like bullets, diving toward the bird. However, they weren't planning on a collision. As each pair drew close, the two spiderlings kicked off from one another to split apart, passing the eagle on its left and right.
I wondered for a moment what they were doing, but then the eagle's movements suddenly changed. It began to thrash unnaturally. Looking closer, I saw that the spiderlings' threads had become entangled around it. It seemed they had been trailing silk between them after they split.
While not every pair had managed to snare the eagle, enough of them succeeded that the bird began to wobble and eventually fluttered down to the ground. There, the spiderlings joined up with the rest of their group who were waiting below to finalize the capture.
The pairs whose threads the eagle had dodged didn't simply plummet; they wove small parachutes out of silk before hitting the ground, allowing for a safe descent. I was relieved to see they wouldn't be crashing into the earth.
This entire display was a drill for capturing aerial enemies. Zabuton usually kept silk threads stretched at a height of about ten meters, but ever since the Angel Race, the Harpy Race, Aegis the phoenix chick, and the eagles had started living in the village, the number of those threads had been reduced. Every year, there was always a handful of residents who would get stuck and end up in a bind.
The reduction hadn't caused any problems until recently, when I was nearly kidnapped. Since that incident happened far above the height of the safety threads, the actual number of webs didn't really matter, but Zabuton's children decided that the current situation was unacceptable. They had started this training on their own initiative and were now demonstrating their progress for me.
I was observing the drill from the back of Giral, who was flying in his dragon form alongside Gral. Once we landed, Zabuton's children greeted us in a perfectly aligned formation.
"That was well done. The skies will definitely be safer now," I said.
"Honestly, wouldn't it be faster if Gral just attacked them?" Giral remarked.
"Giral, don't say things like that."
I mean, I had thought the exact same thing, but we had to consider all the hard work they put in.
The spiderlings suddenly sent me a series of frantic signs, as if telling me not to worry. They already knew it would be faster if Gral attacked? They explained that this was strictly capture training and that their "official" combat method was different.
I wondered what that could possibly be, only to see the Mountain Elves setting up a new cannon. It wasn't the Gatling gun I had banned—it looked more like a mortar. Was this one also powered by water pressure? No, it seemed to launch things using air pressure, much like a pressurized bottle rocket.
Then, acting as both the warhead and the shell base, several of Zabuton's children climbed into the mortar.
Wait, surely they wouldn't...
Before I could stop them, they were launched into the sky. The spiderlings flew upward as a single, compact mass. Once they reached a high altitude, they split apart and began the same diving maneuver I had witnessed earlier.
I see.
"It's dangerous, so it's banned."
They let out a collective "Ehh!?" but that didn't change my mind. Launching yourselves as projectiles is far too risky. Besides, wouldn't it be more efficient to just fire a normal shot from the cannon? There was no need for them to become the shells.
They argued that since they could guide themselves while in flight, their accuracy was far superior. That might have been true, but it was still a firm "no" from me. I acknowledged their effort, but we would have to find a different solution for aerial defense.
And for the ones thinking about evolving so they can fly—don't even think about it. No reckless behavior allowed.
Later, I visited the hot springs.
I found Yor there, maintaining a massive Gatling gun. It was a size meant to be equipped by a dragon, and no matter how hard Yor tried, she would never be able to lift it herself. I wondered if she operated it with magic, but I was wrong. Apparently, it was designed to be held by a humanoid Golem—one gun under each arm.
Mounted on the Golem's back was a giant barrel that served as a power source, rigged with a water tank and magic stones. Yor sat in a seat installed in the Golem's chest, taking aim at a target.
She didn't actually fire, though. She seemed perfectly satisfied just striking a pose. That was probably for the best. I told her she could keep the weapon under her management at the hot springs, provided she never let the children touch it. I also reminded her that while maintenance was fine, modifications were strictly off-limits.
"Ah, right. This is the real reason I'm here."
I handed the mortar over to her. She immediately began pledging her eternal loyalty, which I told her wasn't necessary. I just wanted her to manage it and use it as she saw fit. I didn't even mind if she used it until it broke.
Part of the hot spring area was starting to look like an armory, but since Yor rarely let anyone else touch her equipment, it was at least secure.
Since I had come all the way there, I spent some time socializing with the Death Knights and the lion family. We ended up just soaking in the hot spring together.
I noticed one of the Death Knights floating a tub with a cup of sake on it. It was still the middle of the day, but I accepted a drink anyway. It was delicious.
After returning from the hot springs, I went to patrol the ranch area. Several of Kuro's children were busy herding a flock of goats. Usually, the goats are quite persistent about bothering me, but today they seemed particularly focused—until they decided to charge me anyway. Those goats certainly have guts.
If the wolves were allowed to kill them, they could have suppressed the goats easily, but there weren't enough of them to stop the charge without causing injury. Half the flock came barreling toward me, only to suddenly veer away at the last second.
Wondering what had happened, I looked to my side and saw Alice, Kuroichi's partner, standing there. Alice doesn't usually stand out, but she is one of the oldest residents of the village. She also acts as the enforcer for Kuro's pack. In other words, she's feared by almost everyone—including the goats.
Personally, I just find her quiet and cute. I gave her a few "there, there" pats.
Alice's primary job lately has been guarding my children, which meant the little ones were nearby. It was the junior group, centered around Lupumirina and Aurora.
"Hahaha."
Lupumirina and Aurora came running over to me. I reached down to give them a hug, but I couldn't help but notice they were getting heavy. Holding both of them at once was becoming quite the workout.
By the way, why were all the other children hiding behind Alice?
"Daddy is a little shocked..."
From a short distance away, the High Elves, High Ogre maids, and beastman girls acting as nannies were frantically signaling to the children, trying to get them to come play with me. But the kids refused to budge from behind Alice.
It was a sobering moment that made me realize I need to put a lot more effort into communicating with my children.