Killing the Spider Queen

"I trust you've all been well."

"Good to see you. Though I wonder why the units are... ah."

Ah, right — I had set the minimum donation to a hundred-thousand-won increment. Leaving it like that does feel a little inconvenient. But there are far too many ill-mannered sorts out there, so I had no real choice in the matter.

"That is so. It seems everyone who meant to drop in has already arrived, so today we shall continue where we left off in In the Abyss. This session will likely run quite long as well."

I have tried a number of games in the meantime, but none possessed realism to match this one. Having begun, surely one must see it through to the end. That is not my chief reason, admittedly, but finishing what one starts is a rather pleasant thing. Ah — though that puzzle business from last time... I did not care for it.

A new route in the Abyss. They must mean the storyline that changed after I dealt with the spiders ahead of time.

"Well now, I haven't bothered to look into it. What on earth possesses them to want to see those spiders so badly..."

Ordinary people intend to copy me? Impossible. Still, spiders of that caliber — a skilled Peak-realm fighter ought to manage them somehow.

"Well, that is their affair. Let us begin, shall we?"

The moment I log in, that peculiar dissonance no other game has ever given me washes over me, and I open my eyes in a field of snow. Nearby, the traces of last time — the blood and wreckage that had been washed away — still marked the white snow, and the blizzard still swallowed my view whole.

This is, without question, no ordinary game. At first I merely found it strange, but having now experienced several virtual realities, I can say it with certainty. To call this a game — these sensations are far too vivid. The cold yet somehow comforting feel of the snow beneath me. The scent of blood that still refuses to leave my body, and terrain with no artificial seams to be found. The edge of a sword, keen and present in my grip.

"After resting for a while, it all strikes me even more fiercely than before..."

And that too — that oppressive stench, thick with rot and decay.

I suppose I will only understand once I see this through to the end. They say no one has yet beheld that ending, so the answer must lie there. But how does one reach it? If I ask the viewers, I should get a reasonable answer.

"Where am I to go from here? If any of you know, do tell."

"It seems you lot haven't sorted it out yourselves."

Wandering about aimlessly with no destination or direction, one would only lose one's way and collapse. Waiting for them to reach a conclusion is the wiser course.

"Is that truly so?"

And in the midst of it, rather good news arrived. If the answer to this debate has already been found, I need only proceed accordingly.

The Blade Spider Queen, is it. That colossal spider was called a blade spider, was it not. Its numbers were extraordinary, and each one was of considerable size as ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠well. Its legs were so keen they seemed fit to punch through decent iron.

The queen of spiders such as those... so it is impossible, then?

"You believe it to be impossible?"

The word impossible — I may know it, but it was never a word I was permitted to know. Even had a god stood before me, I would have had to cleave him down. A mere spider's queen barring my path... that simply cannot be.

"Then show me the way, all of you."

The blade driven into that throat — I will wield it ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠myself.

Goodness, what a racket. I am hardly doing anything so difficult — why all this uproar? Still, this is a bit — no, quite a lot — over the top. But their enthusiasm is warm, and it puts me in no ill humor.

"So this house had one of these."

"Ah yes, this is the village, then."

"Before we set out, would you kindly tell me where the smithy is?"

"As you can see, my sword is in this state."

The blade, caked over with gore and filth — it had merely failed to leave my hand, but there was no mistaking it for anything but a crude lump of butcher's iron.

"At this point, is it not simply a butcher's club?"

The reaction is strange. The chat has gone strangely rigid, as though they had overheard something they were never meant to hear. What could possibly be the matter with a butcher's club... Ah.

"That was a sore subject for you all, was it. A slip of the tongue. My apologies."

After briefly soothing the viewers I had startled without meaning to, I step into the smithy. Compared to the house I had visited before, it is a remarkably neglected place.

"How strange."

"However ruined the world may be, can a smithy truly be allowed to fall into such filth? Even if no weapons were being forged, there would be no end to the work that demanded doing."

I had not imagined it would be abandoned to this degree. The sight briefly startles me, but what I need now are cloth and a whetstone. The state of the smithy I shall simply ignore.

"Here it is."

Having washed it so diligently outside, the blade may now, at last, be called a sword. Wiping away the debris, the melted snow, and the blood with a dry cloth, it has recovered something of its original form.

"When you hone a blade, empty your mind, and feel the sword."

Ssshhk... sshhk... As I grind and polish the edge, a sound both clear and keen rings out, and from within the rippling stillness of my heart, I feel the sword. Imagining myself gripping it, swinging it, as I clean the blade —

the sound changes to a brighter ring — shiiing.

"It is done."

"When you truly feel the sword, everything falls into place — from how you hone and clean it, to how you grip it, to how you swing it. You would all do well to learn the art of maintenance as well."

"Now, let us be off."

Walking through the village embroidered with blue blood, toward the mountain, I begin to grasp — ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠just barely — what scale of assault the spiders mounted last time. And with that realization, a single question arises quite naturally.

"How, and from where, do so many spiders find their prey?"

"Even if they feed upon humans, surely there is a limit to the supply. And look at these spiders. Such size, such numbers. Do you truly believe humanity could sustain them all?"

Moreover, these blade spiders do not appear to be a web-spinning species. Then which spider wove the webs in that village? No ordinary spider could account for it — the webs have been visibly multiplying. Difficult... this is difficult.

"If I take the queen's head, might some part of it be resolved?"

So in the end, it comes back to slaying the queen. Hmm... I suppose that is the thing to know. Likely so. Or so I am told, at any rate.