Poor Noble Nord’s Adventure

47. Fear

Nord walked endlessly through the forest, illuminated by moonlight streaming from the night sky.

At times, he relied on his polished scouting skills, and at others, he depended on Newt’s sense of smell, carefully tracing faint clues that might connect to the anomalies occurring in the Alba Forest.

Eventually, Nord arrived at the place.

It was deep within the Alba Forest.

The area, resembling a sheer cliff, formed a large basin at the foot of the northern mountains.

During Nord’s previous visit to the Alba Forest, he had created a map extending precisely to this cliff.

The spider’s trail continued to this very spot, a fact Nord could clearly discern.

(…It’s here.)

It was a certainty.

Not just from the fresh traces scattered around, but also from the distinct “sounds” carried by the wind.

These sounds, imperceptible at the forest’s entrance, became unmistakably clear upon recognizing the creature that made them.

This “presence” was hidden within the currents of the wind.

To avoid alerting the spider to his presence, Nord erased his own, inching closer to the cliff with utmost care.

He advanced under the cover of rustling leaves, blending into the dark night to avoid making any noise.

Finally, crawling along the ground, he reached the edge of the cliff.

It was then Nord realized how unusually tense he was. His back was damp with sweat, and his hands were trembling slightly.

He didn’t know why he felt so nervous. Was it fatigue—or something else entirely?

Suppressing his tension without understanding its source, Nord concealed himself in the shadow of a tree near the cliff’s edge and cautiously peered over.

White. White. White.

Below the cliff stretched a “white” world as far as the eye could see.

(Snow…? No, this is…)

The white expanse spread across the forest below reflected the silvery moonlight, glimmering like snow.

But Nord immediately understood its true nature and dismissed the word from his mind.

What blanketed the area wasn’t a snowy landscape; the substance cloaking the forest’s trees was

(All of this… is webbing.)

A colossal spiderweb had suddenly materialized within the forest.

§

Nord stared in disbelief at the sight before him. Or perhaps he was simply struck dumb with shock.

An unimaginable amount of spider silk blanketed the forest below, turning it into a pure white expanse resembling snowfall.

The trees, from their peaks to their roots, were completely covered in webbing, leaving no exposed bark. Between the trees, strands of webbing stretched like bridge girders.

This spiderweb was so expansive that it seemed less like a web filling the forest and more like trees poking through an ocean of silk.

—The Spider Palace.

That was the impression this overwhelming spiderweb gave Nord.

And within this Spider Palace, shadows shifted here and there.

There was no need to guess; they were spiders. With their eight legs moving fluidly, they traversed the web in every direction. Some carried white, silk-wrapped orbs—likely captured prey.

(Twelve… thirteen… fourteen… These must be above the rank of general spiders…)

Among the writhing mass were not only knight spiders but also general spiders—monsters he had once battled fiercely.

What’s more, there were numerous spiders with even greater numbers of eyes.

The spider army, teeming like ants in a column, scuttled across the vast web.

Nord couldn’t estimate how many spiders inhabited this colossal palace. But he knew there were at least a hundred.

(…? Wait, they aren’t just carrying prey into the web… If anything, it’s the opposite.)

As Nord observed the spiders, he noticed something peculiar.

Within the palace, there was a specific area where large white masses were gathered. Nord quickly realized these were accumulated prey—this must be the palace’s “food storage.”

But curiously, more spiders seemed to be carrying prey out of the storage rather than bringing it in.

They appeared to be transporting the food somewhere. But where?

Nord followed the spiders’ movements with his eyes.

The palace was crisscrossed with webbing, some areas even forming multiple layers.

For knight spiders, this behavior was unusual. But then again, everything about this scene defied the norms Nord knew of knight spiders.

By this point, his senses were almost numb to surprise; he had developed a strange confidence that nothing would shock him anymore.

The spiders were carrying their prey through the palace toward the northern mountains.

Scurrying, they hauled silk-wrapped prey to the palace’s northernmost edge, depositing it at the base of a small hill before returning the way they came.

At first, Nord wondered if they were relocating the food to a new storage site.

That was until the shadow of the hill began to move.

He didn’t immediately comprehend what was happening.

He even glanced up, thinking the moon might have been covered by clouds.

But when he saw the fully illuminated moon hanging in the sky, he finally recognized what stood before him.

“…No way.”

The words escaped his mouth in a whisper of astonishment, entirely unconscious.

The “hill” was moving.

No—it wasn’t a hill.

Before him loomed a spider so massive it could be mistaken for a mountain.

Why hadn’t he noticed its presence before?

As he questioned himself, the answer became clear almost immediately.

A faint rattling sound filled the air. It was coming from his own body.

—Nord’s body was trembling with fear.

His instincts had refused to acknowledge the creature’s existence.

Now, he understood this on a primal level.

The lack of life within the forest was no longer a mystery.

The giant spider’s minions had captured every living creature in the area—that much was true.

But that wasn’t the full explanation. Why had even the smallest birds and insects disappeared from the forest, even at its entrance, where there were no traces of spiders?

Nord now knew the answer firsthand.

—Fear. That was the answer.

The small animals of the forest had sensed the giant spider’s presence long before.

In the brutal struggle for survival, prey animals’ greatest weapon was their fear.

This instinct to sense danger was what kept them alive.

Conversely, predators were less sensitive to fear. That’s why large stags could still be found near the forest entrance, and why the prey trapped in the Spider Palace had been caught before they could escape.

Overwhelming terror, however, triggered panic and paralysis. Just as a frog freezes when stared down by a snake, Nord found himself almost immobilized by the sheer proximity of the giant spider.

His failure to notice its presence earlier was likely his mind’s defensive mechanism.

(…Damn it, I can’t stop shaking… If this keeps up, I’ll make noise…!)

“Kyuu.”

“!?”

A warm sensation touched Nord’s hand.

Startled, he looked down. Beside him, Newt nuzzled his face against Nord’s palm.

(You…)

Newt, too, was trembling.

Like a kitten or puppy enduring the cold, his body quivered as he struggled against his fear.

Yet even in this state, Newt was doing his best to encourage Nord, acting as if nothing was amiss.

Through his palm, Nord felt the smooth scales and warmth of Newt’s body.

The warmth of the wyvern, slightly hotter than a human’s, seemed to spread throughout Nord’s entire being. His trembling had stopped before he even realized it.

(I’m sorry… You saved me, Newt. Thank you.)

Nord gently stroked Newt’s head with a soft touch.

As he calmed Newt, Nord turned his gaze back toward the Spider Palace.

The massive spider, as large as a hill, moved sluggishly.

Seeing its form reignited his instinctive fear. Yet this time, his body no longer trembled.