"-- Ha-ha-ha! I tricked them all! – The Creature laughed as soon as the spatial rift closed behind our backs. – Good thing I decided to check on you a couple of days before the game started. This plan with the thermonuclear bombs was a surprise even for me. So I prepared and placed bets that you would destroy all your opponents before the game even started. Anyway, according to the rules, the use of nuclear weapons is prohibited. And I made a pretty good profit off you. Bwa-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! Why so quiet?
– I need a bonus for completing the task early. – I stated my demands.
– You're not getting anything. You're not on my payroll; you're in servitude. Besides, you ruined the game that the local Shinigami had been preparing for two thousand years. So your only reward will be that your next life will be spent in the body of an insect, just as I promised. Down there, you definitely won't be able to do any worse, because the situation can't get any worse anyway.
With that, our dialogue ended, and I lost consciousness again.
I woke up in a tight, enclosed space. I was surrounded on all sides by a tough, springy shell, inside which everything was filled with me and a viscous liquid. I could barely feel my body, so I focused primarily on my consciousness.
Reviewing my memories, I focused on the tailed beast's tail. It was faithfully supplying me with chakra, which had already begun to fill my new body. But besides the tail, I discovered another source of energy. As soon as I tried to understand what it was, an entire lecture appeared in my consciousness on the topic 'What is magic and how to use it'.
Strangely enough, this wasn't a gift from the Entity, but the genetic memory of my new body. This same memory also contained a description of my anatomy, the structure of society, methods for performing typical duties, and so on. Essentially, by assimilating this data, I was supposed to become a prepared cog in the community of intelligent... spiders.
Of course, they weren't actually spiders, but from an anatomical standpoint, these inhabitants of Earth were the closest to me. Cephalothorax, abdomen, ten jointed limbs (six 'legs' and four 'arms'), a mouth capable of consuming only liquid food, and twelve compound eyes – that's a brief list of this body's distinguishing features. Oh, and an organ for producing webs – couldn't have that without it!
After assimilating all the necessary knowledge, I examined my body more carefully and determined that, by its structure, it corresponded to a worker-caste spider. Yes, yes, these creatures were part of a large hive where division of labor and specialization flourished. This arrangement naturally didn't suit me, so I began saturating my body with chakra and droplets of the magical energy available to me. This, in turn, activated hidden developmental mechanisms, turning me into some sort of hybrid of a warrior and a mage.
In general, spider society (I'll call them that) was divided into three castes: workers, warriors, and mages. Within each caste were additional specializations adapted for performing specific tasks. Each such sub-caste occupied a specific, rigid position in the social hierarchy, at the top of which stood the Queen, and at the very bottom were the 'general laborers', one of which I was destined to become.
A spider's future caste was determined by the conditions the eggs experienced during embryonic development. To become a mage, the egg needed to be heavily nourished with specially created magical energy. To produce warriors, special spells were placed on the eggs to activate physical growth.
I, however, filled my body with the tailed beast's chakra, which began transforming it according to a very strange program, activating all possible abilities within this body. Thus, I clearly fell outside the local caste system. But that's better than being born a pathetic worker spider, capable of nothing but cleaning dung and spinning webs.
My transformation and 'maturation' process dragged on. The fluid filling the egg was absorbed into my body and used as building material. My body size increased, acquiring a more pronounced 'centaur' form with four arms. Finally, I felt ready to hatch. By this point, I had long been hearing certain sounds coming from outside. It seemed my siblings from the clutch had already left their eggs. But then, a quiet rustling was interrupted by the sound of feet on stone, and words entered my consciousness. Spiders primarily communicated telepathically, although they also had verbal methods.
– This clutch has already matured. We just need to wait for the most underdeveloped ones and dispose of the dead and defective eggs.
I began actively moving my limbs, trying to break through the eggshell. It would be funny if I got 'disposed of' before I could get out.
– I gave the order to the caretakers. It will take a couple of weeks for this batch to start tending to the scarabs.
– What about the hunters' clutch?
– Maturation expected in three days. Feed supplies are already ninety percent ready. So in two weeks, we can send them to the surface, assigning workers who tend the scarabs as support.
– What a strange egg.
The two sources of thoughts stopped next to me. And at that moment, the shell finally yielded to my efforts, and I managed to get out.
– I've never seen such a body shape. – I cleared my eyes and stared at two giant spiders, compared to which I was like a mouse before an elephant.
– A defective specimen.
– Strange that it activated mage traits. The background here doesn't exceed normal.
– It doesn't matter. We need workers, not mages. I see no point in wasting food on it.
– Hey, I can be useful. – I protested.
– Our colony is having problems obtaining food. We can't afford to feed an extra mouth. Do you agree to perform the work of a worker? – Replied the spider who, judging by his appearance, belonged to the upper echelon of the worker caste.
– No, but I can solve your food problems another way.
– And how's that? – Asked the second spider, whom my instincts identified as a mage-scholar.
– The specific method will depend on the exact circumstances we find ourselves in. I have enough knowledge to solve this problem, whatever it may be.
– Genome of the Ancients? – The mage was surprised.
– The Queen hasn't said anything about that. – Objected the worker.
– Sometimes it manifests itself if the colony is in a critical situation. And our situation can hardly be called non-critical.
– In any case, I don't have food for him. I doubt he can perform the duties of a worker.
– I'll take him with me. If he proves useful, his nourishment will be provided by the mage caste.
The spiders exchanged glances, and the worker stepped aside, busy cleaning the room of scattered egg remains. Simultaneously, he herded the small spiders to the center of the hall, where there was something like a circus arena. I quickly surveyed the room and turned my gaze to my 'savior'.
– Climb onto my head. – He replied to my unspoken question.
I had to scurry up his leg onto his back, and then onto his head. Then my mode of transport moved along long corridors branching out at various angles in all directions. After about fifteen minutes, we reached a large hall, where I was unloaded onto the surface of a table cluttered with various strange objects. It most resembled a laboratory.
– So, you claim to have knowledge of how to solve our food crisis? – The mage got straight to the point.
– I think so. To find a solution, I need to know what you eat and how the food procurement process is organized.
– What do we eat? Doesn't your memory contain the answer to such a simple question?
The standard hereditary memory at my disposal contained very little information about the history of spider civilization. But there were mentions that this history spanned tens of thousands of years, and that the spiders had come to this world from another about six thousand years ago.
– In different eras, in different worlds, our species consumed different food. – I uttered a clever phrase.
– That's true. – Agreed the mage. – Well, I'll tell you about our situation, but first, you should get some nourishment. Otherwise, you risk dying of hunger before I finish my story.
I listened to myself and indeed felt ravenous hunger. Strangely, this feeling didn't cause me as much discomfort as it would have as a human. Meanwhile, the mage stepped aside and returned, dragging a beetle about four times my size in his hand. Looking at this creature, I began to doubt who would eat whom if we were left alone. The hungry creak of the beetle's chelicerae confirmed my fears.
With a quick movement, the mage tore off the beetle's leg and placed it in front of me. Then, in a matter of seconds, he wrapped the helpless victim in webbing and injected his saliva into the resulting cocoon. The beetle squeaked in annoyance and began to decompose into sludge, its chitin crackling.
I looked at the leg, which was longer than my body, and with a mental sigh, focused on the instincts that told me how to EAT this. First, I sucked out the lymph flowing from the open wound. Then, I slowly formed an air blade technique from chakra and cut off a small piece of flesh, which, following the example of my kin, I wrapped in webbing and injected saliva into the bundle. Now, I had to wait a bit, and then I could start eating. Well, this isn't like eating hamburgers; there's a whole technology to eating. Or rather, a culture of eating?
The mage looked approvingly at my actions, then downed his 'cocktail' in one gulp and began his story about my new homeland. I heeded the unearthly wisdom of my ancestors while consuming the beetle's leg piece by piece.
Spiders had indeed arrived in this world six thousand years ago, bringing with them the standard set of food sources of that time. After some time, colonies spread across the world, mostly settling in rock caves which they themselves had dug. The general food production scheme was as follows: hunter spiders would venture outside the nest and gather plant-based materials there. These materials were ground up, and a special mycelium was planted on them, which yielded its first harvest in just a couple of weeks. The mushrooms were then fed to feeder scarab beetles – one of which I was currently eating quickly.
Of course, beetles were far from the only food spiders could eat. Rather, they were food capable of providing a spider's body with all necessary substances at minimal cost. But besides beetles, spiders didn't disdain the meat of land animals, plant fruits, and mushrooms.
This cycle of food reproduction couldn't be called optimal, but it had ensured the food security of spider civilization for six thousand years. So what changed? The reason was banal – global warming. First, for five hundred years, the planet's air temperature steadily rose. Given the overall humidity of the climate, this only increased biomass production. But about seventy years ago, a tipping point was reached.
On Earth, a similar scenario would be described as 'atmospheric boiling'. The rise in sea surface temperature led to the formation of a huge typhoon. Moisture-laden air rose to a record height, where atmospheric pressure couldn't contain the expansion of water vapor – effectively, it re-evaporated. As a result, huge masses of relatively warm air rose into the stratosphere and partially evaporated into space. Cold air descended to the lower atmospheric layers to replace it.
At an altitude of ten kilometers, a temperature of minus fifty degrees is quite normal. But when this air descended, the entire land and a significant part of the sea surface instantly became covered with ice. Thus, another ice age began in this world.
The cooling rate was so great that animals feeding on heat-loving plants froze to death before they could digest their food. Similar remains, incidentally, are found on Earth in the stomachs of mammoths discovered in permafrost. In general, nothing unusual happened in this world, but now all the land surrounding the spider colony was covered in snow. The situation was exacerbated by the fact that this location was almost within the Arctic Circle. During a thaw, such a location could quite well support a moderately sized colony. But now, food supplies from the surface had dwindled to almost nothing.
Initially, after the cold set in, the spiders survived by gathering plant remains from the surrounding area. But then, the problem became so obvious that the decision was made to 'hibernate' until better times. There was still hope then that the cold snap would end soon. Most of the colony's population was eaten, while the smaller part entered hibernation, emerging every few years to replenish their bodies' nutrient stores.
And now, seventy years after the surface catastrophe, an underground catastrophe had arrived. All food sources were almost completely exhausted. The immediate surroundings had been stripped clean, and the spider queen decided to... resort to yet another idiotic 'last resort'.
In short, the plan was to raise a squad of scout spiders, reinforce them with workers, and send this whole horde far away, hoping they would dig up enough food and bring it back to the colony. Hearing this plan, I couldn't help but laugh hysterically.
– Why are you laughing? – The mage stared at me in bewilderment.
– This 'rescue plan' of yours is just a way to finish off the colony faster. To some extent, it's justified. Better to die quickly doing useless activity than to drag out your agony for hundreds of years.
– This plan was devised by the Queen herself!
– So what? – I asked in bewilderment, examining my interlocutor.
– Doubting the orders of a superior is a mortal sin. – He explained, as if it were self-evident. – If the Queen has made such a decision, we must not discuss it, but carry it out.
– Ugh... Looks like the situation here is even worse than I assumed. But, in principle, we can use this expedition as part of a real plan to save the colony.
– You already have a plan?
– Ragh-Hak, who are you talking to there? – A 'loud' telepathic voice interrupted us. In one of the openings in the wall appeared the carcass of a spider, about one and a half times larger than my interlocutor. As my instincts told me, this was a female.
– Seg-Nim-Het, I greet you. I found a worker spider in the database with awakened genomic memory of the Ancients. He claims to have a plan to provide our colony with food.
– What? Memory of the Ancients? Those are fairy tales.
– And yet, his mind is far more developed than that of a newborn worker. So I think we should at least consider his proposals.
– Ha, what can you possibly think? I make the decisions here. – Seg-Nim-Het looked at me, radiating waves of contempt. – Well, go on, surprise me, little worker. Tell me your plan. – She addressed me. – If I don't like it, I'll eat you.
If it weren't for my rather precarious position, I would have torn this creature to pieces in response to such an offer. In principle, I could probably do it right now. After all, my current strength equals that of a one-tailed beast. True, there's still the unaccounted parameter of local magic. So for now, I'd better state my thoughts, especially since the solution was not just unoriginal, but completely obvious... to anyone with more brains than a spider.
– I think you should evolve and transition from a hunter-gatherer culture to a culture of organized agriculture.
– What? – If spiders had facial expressions, I'm sure Seg-Nim-Het's face would have shown shock. That's the kind of reaction you'd expect from a high school dropout.
– You need to organize your own production of plant biomass in special rooms where optimal conditions for plant growth are created.
– Do you understand what he said? – The female spider addressed her subordinate.
– It's a dialect of the Ancients. – He weaseled out. – He suggests we grow plants in our dungeons, creating the same conditions that existed on the surface before the Catastrophe.
– Grow them ourselves? Is that even possible? I mean, we don't have the abilities to grow plants. And I haven't heard of any such magic either.
I almost lost it and started laughing out loud. I even had to turn off my 'speech apparatus' to avoid accidentally conveying my thoughts to this animal.
– I think he has information on how this process can be organized. – Ragh-Hak tactfully noted, pointing at me.
– Hmm... Well, then. I entrust you with studying the possibilities of implementing my idea of growing plants. You can even use this worker. I'll arrange for enough food to be allocated for him.
– Of course, esteemed Seg-Nim-Het. I will carry out your order and provide a detailed action plan that aligns with the Queen's will.
– I'm counting on you.
The female spider gave me another disgusted look and scurried away, radiating concealed self-satisfaction and a desire to share her brilliant idea with the Queen herself.
– You should be more mindful of our society's hierarchy. – Ragh-Hak noted after Seg-Nim-Het's footsteps faded. – Doubting a superior's orders is a mortal sin. As is doubting their mental abilities. Many of my brethren perished without timely realization of these simple truths.
– Oh... I've realized it, actually. I've realized that no matter what brilliant plans I promote, your colony is doomed to extinction.
– What? Why? – It seemed my revelation knocked the wind out of the scholar.
– It's simple. If any doubt in management's decisions is punishable by death, then the manager will only have subordinates dumber than him. And since we are not immortal, the very top of society will die sooner or later. Their place will be taken by dumber subordinates. Then the cycle repeats, and so on, until the top of the social pyramid is occupied by extremely stupid individuals who will destroy themselves and the entire colony in the process. This is the result of natural selection, and under such conditions, extinction is not just probable, but absolutely inevitable. Your current situation is precisely the result of such a pattern. You couldn't find an absolutely obvious solution because the poverty of your leaders' minds doesn't even allow them to imagine the possibility of such a solution.
– Are you cleverly expressing the idea that we are all dumb idiots, incapable of solving the simplest problems?
– Yes, that's exactly what I wanted to say.
The mage stared grimly at me, twitching his fingers. Was he already deciding whether it wouldn't be simpler to kill me than to hear the truth?
– I will call you Chpok. – He announced finally. – From now on, you'd better communicate only with me. If it weren't for Seg-Nim-Het's order to provide a plan for solving the food problem, I would have killed and devoured you already.
– Ha-ha-ha. It seems you still have a few grains of common sense left. – I laughed in the spider's face. – So, are you ready to hear my ideas on how to save your pathetic lives?
– Speak.
– But first, lunch. And I need to empty my bowels. I don't think your table is a suitable place for that.
Realizing the principles of local society led me to an obvious conclusion: I need to run away from here. In this society, I could only achieve a normal position if I killed everyone dumber than me. That is, every single one. Therefore, it would be easier to escape somewhere to the equator and organize my own utopia there.
Over the next couple of weeks, I ate for three, simultaneously reading information from the local equivalent of books – special crystals grown with magic. The literature covered three themes: history, physiology, magic. As I read the books, I began writing my own, in which I planned to describe the process of growing plants in detail. Given the local mentality, this book contained not a single abstract thought or explanation of 'why'. It answered only one question: 'how?'.That is, it was an extremely detailed instruction manual.
The essence of the technology was, of course, simple: organize rooms for greenhouses, fill them with soil, plant seeds, water them occasionally, and, of course, provide sufficient lighting. Also worth mentioning are such important parameters as temperature, humidity, and carbon dioxide content in the air. Naturally, most of the necessary actions were supposed to be performed using magic, for which I requested a bunch of books on the subject.
Also, the history of the local spider civilization proved extremely useful. And it was, admittedly, an example illustrating the ideas I had already expressed.
About six thousand years ago, several million spiders arrived in this world through a portal. The entire crowd was led by a queen named Azjol-Nerub. This same name was given to the new civilization of intelligent spiders, which immediately displaced the local population, carving out a not-so-small piece of territory for itself. But truth be told, all these newcomers were deserters who had fled their own world to build a utopia named after their queen. And since there were a sufficient number of doubters among the subjects, a law was introduced establishing the supremacy of the social pyramid over common sense. Since then, spider civilization had been slowly degrading.
Almost two dozen intelligent races were found in the new world. And within less than a hundred years, a world war of all against all began. This war lasted a thousand years, but in the end, the spiders emerged victorious. After all, the legacy they brought through the portal contained a vast amount of knowledge. Primarily, knowledge of magic. And the introduced form of government forced civilization to work at full capacity.
Queen Azjol-Nerub did not live long after her victory. After all, the maximum lifespan of a spider was five hundred years. And the queen had lasted that long only thanks to now-lost rejuvenation magic. Over the next thousand years, the spiders explored the conquered world and... degraded. And after that period, the heavens opened and portals from other worlds appeared, from which various races emerged: elves, trolls, orcs, humans, goblins, vampires, and so on.
Thus began another era of world wars. The spiders, relaxed after a thousand years, could not offer serious resistance and quickly lost their leading positions. Time and again they suffered defeat until an orc army destroyed the capital of their empire along with its degraded ruling elite.
Only a small detachment led by a lower-level commander survived, who managed to take most of the imperial library with him. He was, in fact, its guardian. Then, the spider army, now with competent leadership, multiplied, learned magic, and attacked the invaders, destroying them all. However, this took another thousand years.
During the hostilities, power in spider society changed hands several times, so that in the end, adherents of tradition ended up on top again. After destroying the external enemy, they quickly eliminated all internal opponents and resumed their favorite pastime – moral decay.
A thousand years later, the cycle repeated. But this time, the prolonged degradation of the entire society reached a critical limit, so the spiders could not offer any resistance to newcomers. All they managed to do was scatter across different continents, hide in secluded burrows, and live (survive) while hiding from those stronger than them.
A thousand years of countless wars passed, and the winner turned out to be... the spiders. As if by a cruel twist of fate, their strategy proved successful. All other races and civilizations successfully killed each other, simply forgetting that another party to the conflict was hiding somewhere. True, it must be admitted that by the time of their 'victory', only three spider colonies remained. One was located in the far north, on an island within the Arctic Circle. This was where I was born. Two others eked out an existence on the southern continent, also near the pole.
Almost a thousand years had passed since then. It's a pity that after the victory, our colony couldn't find a way to move to a more favorable location. Spiders were poor seafarers, and no suitable forest for building ships grew here. About three hundred years ago, contact with the other two colonies was lost, so their fate is unknown.
Spider magic had degraded significantly over this thousand years. And no, it wasn't about lost knowledge. The legacy of the Ancients was intact. The problem was the decline in intelligence. Six thousand years of directed selection had yielded results. Current spiders could not master their ancestors' magic and used only its pitiful remnants, simplified to the limit.
Fortunately, when I was in the egg, I saturated my body with chakra, awakening all dormant genes, and my brain developed to a level comparable to the great mages of old. So now I was absorbing all the knowledge accumulated by civilization, simultaneously writing an idiot-proof guide to growing hemp.
Two weeks after my birth, a 'rescue group' set out on its campaign, and I was included. During this time, my size had increased from a couple of centimeters to half a meter across (excluding legs). However, the growth of my physical body was not linked to the growth of my magical abilities. Spiders only became decent mages about ten years after birth. But my minimal abilities were enough to use the thermal shield spell, which provided protection from the cold. I also made sure that everyone going on the campaign learned this spell. Even though it was currently local 'summer', that meant the surface temperature was not minus seventy, but 'only' minus forty.
I joined the expedition only because I was the sole specialist capable of understanding how and where to collect plant seeds. Fortunately, the unexpected ice age began when it was winter in the northern hemisphere, so seeds should have been in a state capable of surviving low temperatures. True, they had lain in permafrost for seventy years, but I had a good chance of finding still-viable grains.
Ragh-Hak didn't want to come with me, so I had to use remarkable eloquence to get the commander of our detachment – who was several rungs above me on the social ladder – to follow my instructions. Even then, I had to find and dig up half the seeds myself.
Upon returning to the native caves, I took up gardening. Within a week, the first seeds sprouted, and my laboratory became a veritable pilgrimage site for all the important spiders of the colony. Only the Queen deigned not to come herself; instead, several pots with plants were brought to her chambers for her to examine before eating.
The attitude of the local authorities towards me remained fundamentally unchanged. They all saw me as an object of their intrigues and made no secret of the fact that I would live only as long as I was useful. After all, my knowledge and skills were a challenge to their dull-witted existence. However, I was under no illusions, so the necessary instructions were written slowly, carefully, and only after studying a vast number of ancient books on magic.
A year after my birth, food production finally became steady. All 'old workers' were brought out of hibernation, and the 'maternity ward' held maturing eggs of future workers, warriors, and even mages.
One fine day, I was sitting reading a book on soul magic when this activity was interrupted by the appearance of my supervisor, Seg-Nim-Het. Old Ragh-Hak had angered one of these spiders just a week ago, after which his mutilated body was sent to feed the scarabs. And now, judging by the emotions radiating from the female spider, my time had come.
– Chpok, our Queen has decided to grace you with an audience. You have done much for our people, so she has deigned to see you with her own eyes.
– I'm happy for her. – I expressed my delight at this fact, setting aside the crystal containing the book.
– Let's go, the Queen doesn't like to wait.
– Of course. I just need to return this book to the repository. – I indicated the crystal placed in a special box. – It's on the way.
– Yes, the legacy of our ancestors must be kept safe. – Despite the prevailing order, respect for ancient knowledge was drilled into everyone's mind. So Seg-Nim-Het had little choice but to agree with me. Books could only be taken out of the library under a guarantee of vigilant care for their preservation.
Carefully clutching the box in my lower left hand, I ran to the library, quickly moving my legs. I was even starting to like this body. It was much more convenient than a human one. Reaching the Repository of Knowledge, I ran into one of the narrow passages, and just a few seconds later, my shadow clone emerged. Although it was poorly suited for physically interacting with the outside world, it was virtually indistinguishable from me externally. And close physical contact among spiders was a kind of taboo, which gave me hope that my deception wouldn't be discovered until the very end.
While the clone moved towards the Queen's chambers, I activated my camouflage and teleported to one of the lower levels, where I had previously left a Hiraishin mark. Judging by the tracks, the last time a spider had passed through this place was a couple of hundred years ago. I hid there, observing what happened to my clone.
Reaching the throne room, Seg-Nim-Het overtook me and was the first to enter the huge chamber, decorated with lines of glowing runes. This branch of magic was used to create various artifacts and was the foundation upon which I had built all of local agriculture.
– My Queen, as you commanded, I have brought the worker with the memory of the Ancients, who made his modest contribution to your agricultural development plan. – The female spider addressed, simultaneously stepping aside.
When Seg-Nim-Het's body moved to the wall, a space filled with many spiders of various sizes opened before me. And in the far corner of the hall loomed a giant Queen, whose height was no less than ten meters.
– So you are the heir of the Ancients. – The Queen's voice echoed in my mind. – Forbidden knowledge has distorted your body, so you can be called neither mage, nor warrior, nor even a worker.
The ruler's thoughts were laced with disgust and... envy. Envy of my magical abilities, which surpassed everything available to her and her entourage. Only my young age prevented me from standing on an equal footing with her. And it was clear to everyone present that within ten years, I could pose a threat to the established order.
– There is no place for the likes of you in our society. – The Queen continued. – Therefore, in the name of preserving order, your life must end. You have helped me restore the greatness of our race, so I grant you the right to ask me one question.
Truly, a royal gift. The Queen fell silent, and all those present stared at me, holding their breath. What should I say, for the last time?
– Seg-Nim-Het mentioned that because of my knowledge, she is now just one step away from becoming Queen herself. Is that true?
The gazes of all those present darted towards my supervisor and focused on her. She only managed to squeak out some sounds before collapsing to the floor, losing consciousness. He-he. The Queen formed a spell that reached out like a ghostly whip from her to the would-be rival and sliced her to pieces.
– No, she was mistaken. – The supreme judge replied impassively.
I only smiled inwardly at that. The entire past year, I had mostly interacted with only two spiders, both now dead. The rest of the colony's inhabitants didn't even suspect what abilities I possessed. The existence of my chakra remained a secret, allowing me to conceal my escape effectively and efficiently.
– Of course she was mistaken. – I replied, broadcasting my speech to everyone present. – Because our colony doesn't need a Queen, it needs a King. And that King will be me. After I destroy you all.
With these words, I formed a spell over the area – 'Dust of Death' – which I threw at the crowd before me. The energy source for this spell was a small storage crystal, the technology for which I had gleaned from the books. My arrogant outburst stunned everyone present for a second, so they didn't have time to defend themselves, and the spell destroyed several dozen targets. But a second later, a whole storm of magic rained down on my clone, destroying all traces of my presence there, as well as the bodies of those spiders unfortunate enough to be near me at that moment.
I reviewed the recent events in my memory once more, then moved through the abandoned passages towards my hideout. The attempt on my life was not a surprise. I had long been preparing for such a development. In the distant corridors, I had organized my own plantation, where the best plant specimens grew, mushrooms matured, and feeder beetles bred. This should be enough for a comfortable life.
Over the past year, I had read quite a few books on magic. To be more precise, I hadn't even read them, but copied them into my memory. Dealing with this legacy of the Ancients could take centuries. But even so, a significant and most interesting part of the library was still inaccessible to me. Now I intended to rectify that omission.
The next month, I spent my time plundering the library. No, I wasn't stealing the crystal books, only temporarily taking them, leaving empty fakes. No one understood what was happening that month, primarily because no one had read these books for several hundred years. The librarians kept order in the library and weren't looking for trouble by acquiring forbidden knowledge. In my time, I had left enough Hiraishin marks in the passages of the Repository of Knowledge to be able to infiltrate it unnoticed.
Finally, all the knowledge that interested me had taken its place in my head, and I began preparing for the next stage of my plan – escape. I intended not just to escape, but to found my own colony, which required taking several female spiders. I saw no point in negotiating with adult spiders, so I decided to steal eggs. But this raised the issue of their preservation. From the moment of laying to hatching, only two weeks passed. And during this time, the eggs had to be kept in special conditions. It was highly doubtful that I could escape with such a load in my arms, not to mention that my journey to find a new home might take a long time. Moreover, after birth, the spiders would need abundant food.
In short, after considering the situation, I decided to steal the eggs a few days after laying, then seal them in Fuinjutsu seals with stopped time. And to avoid losing the precious cargo during the journey, I decided to place the seals on my own carapace. Over the course of a week, my clones managed to apply the necessary patterns to my abdomen. Three seals were intended for three eggs, and another was to hold my food base – plant seeds, mycelium, scarab eggs.
Fully prepared for the journey, I waited for the Queen to lay another batch of eggs, and then 'went on a mission'. Naturally, the clutches were well guarded. The warriors guarded most diligently a small room where the eggs of future mages matured, including the hatching of females.
My plan for infiltrating the guarded territory was simple: assume the form of a worker-nurse, sneak into the room, grab three eggs, and escape via Hiraishin. But after observing the guards, I concluded that I couldn't convincingly impersonate the required spider. They not only inspected everyone passing by but also communicated with them quite a bit. And faking a telepathic 'voice' was beyond my abilities.
Fortunately, another method was found. The increased concentration of magical energy in that room was maintained using special storage crystals, which dissipated the stored energy and were replaced every two days. All I needed to do was replace one such accumulator, placing a crystal with a Hiraishin mark instead. A few hours later, a worker installed it in the room, and then I just had to wait a bit for all unnecessary witnesses to leave the operation site.
The remainder of the greatest deception of the century went perfectly. My clone silently appeared in the guarded room, examined the eggs, selected three that should hatch into females, and just as silently disappeared with the loot.
Finally, everything was ready for my escape. But, naturally, I decided not to leave my modest hideout myself, but sent a clone instead. The situation on the surface was accurately described by the short phrase 'icy hell'. Frost over forty degrees, constant blizzards, and unceasing snow falling from the sky. Over seventy years, more than two hundred meters had piled up. If not for special spells that regenerated oxygen, the spiders would have died out fifty years ago when all the exits to the surface were completely buried. During the first expedition, we had to dig a long tunnel to the surface, run over two hundred kilometers, and then burrow into the snow again to reach a thin strip of frozen vegetation. Now my clone went outside and slid south on skis.
With such a snow cover, it was already difficult to distinguish land from sea. So I reached a small mountain range, from where I began surveying the endless snowy plains. Well, I think it's worth starting construction here, especially since the rocks jutting out of the snow provide access to building materials.
I decided not to reinvent the wheel, but to invent an all-terrain boat that should move equally well on snow and water. The main materials were to be aluminum and titanium, which I could easily extract from granite. Luckily, the local rocks were made of granite, not some limestone deposits. The aluminum content in granite reaches 15 percent, and titanium up to one percent. Given my ability to extract deuterium from seawater, obtaining the necessary metals didn't seem particularly difficult.
After just a few hours, I proudly surveyed the results of my work. In shape, it was a flat-bottomed boat, similar in form to river ferries. Width three meters, length ten, height two meters. The titanium bottom was weighted to prevent capsizing on water. The top was covered with an aluminum roof, and at the front rose a 'cabin' with fairly thick windows made of transparent corundum. The boat was propelled by four paddle wheels, similar to those installed on nineteenth-century steamships. And all this was rotated by the action of Fuin seals. There were no amenities, but the clone didn't need any.
After testing the resulting vehicle, the clone created another clone, which began making a copy of the all-terrain vehicle, while the 'original' sat in the driver's seat and headed further south. As I had feared, it took a very long time to reach open water. My all-terrain vehicle had to cover over two thousand kilometers over snow and ice. I even started to worry that the titanium bottom would wear through from the strain. I had to stop halfway and reinforce it with Fuin seals.
In total, I sent four clones on reconnaissance. Alas, the spider's brain was poorly suited for multitasking. Or in other words, schizophrenia was very rare among my species.
Upon reaching open water, the boats successfully passed tests of their propulsion systems in the new mode, then set off in different directions in search of land. The journey dragged on considerably. If I had gone myself, I would have starved to death on the open sea. Sure, I could fish, but a spider's body requires several 'vitamins' that can only be obtained from scarabs. So I stayed at the base, studying magic and watching my clones cruise the expanses of the world ocean.
The geographic research plan was quite simple: reach the equator, then sail along it until I encountered land. Alas, this plan didn't account for the fact that there was no continent in the equatorial region. No general map of the planet had survived among the spiders. It had been left in the destroyed imperial library. And over the following millennia, the foolish insects never thought to consolidate their geographic knowledge. I only knew of the existence of two polar continents, large islands near them, and another continent somewhere in the middle.
Unfortunately, the continent I was looking for was clearly not on the equator, as I had secretly hoped. Despite the ice age, the temperature at the equator had dropped only slightly. Instead of plus thirty, it was now plus twenty-five. These were still excellent living conditions. However, there was nowhere to live. I wasn't yet ready to create a civilization living on artificial islands.
My clones had to circle the planet twice before they stumbled upon a decent island stretching from north to south. I had even started thinking about inventing an airplane. The only thing stopping me was that my knowledge of aerodynamics was limited to high school physics and knowing how to fold paper airplanes. And the boats, in good weather, reached a decent speed of over one hundred kilometers per hour. Given the average diameter of an Earth-like planet, the equator's circumference should be around forty thousand kilometers, meaning my clones could circumnavigate the globe in just twenty days.
Fortunately, towards the end of the second month of 'sailing', a group of islands was discovered that was quite suitable for permanent residence. By area, the largest island was comparable to New Zealand. Geologically, it was also similar – a mountain range ran through its center, with peaks reaching several kilometers in height, pleasing the eye with snowy summits.
I was already getting tired of sitting in my hideout, so I happily teleported to the clone and took part in landing on the shore. Exploring the area showed a complete absence of intelligent life and an endless abundance of non-intelligent life. After eating a couple of captured animals, I decided to permanently move to the new residence. However, this first required organizing a farm for growing mushrooms and a pen for breeding beetles. Quite a hassle.
Given my insectoid origin, I decided to make my home in the form of a termite mound. For now, I didn't care about aesthetics. Instead, protection from rain, sunlight, and various animals took priority. I drew inspiration for interior design from footage of alien nests from movies. I built a small three-story mansion using Doton and chakra in just one day. Then I unsealed the mycelium and scarab eggs and placed them in suitable conditions. I figured that until I established normal food production, I would eat local animals.
For the next ten years, I simply lived on the island, denying myself nothing. During this time, I fully explored it. Fortunately, household chores could be left to clones. I wasn't in a hurry to create my own colony, because I intended to do so only after my magical core had fully developed. Nevertheless, I wasn't particularly bored. Magic, like chakra in the past, fascinated me greatly.
Moreover, the knowledge of the Ancients described completely unimaginable feats with reality: space travel, portals to other worlds, magical technologies allowing the creation of anything from a calculator to a space battleship, biotechnologies for creating new life forms, resurrection of the dead, immortality, and so on. Unfortunately, I only received a small part of the described power. Queen Azjol-Nerub had fled to this world with the knowledge of an average office clerk. Perhaps opening an interworld portal was the limit of her abilities. But even so, I saw that scientific research into existing spells could provide the basis for founding an entire interstellar civilization. I just needed to figure out why I needed that civilization.
Finally, I felt I had mastered magic sufficiently to apply the most mind-boggling spells from the legacy of the Ancients. I had long marked this moment as a turning point in my life. I moved to the location chosen for the construction of the future city and laid the foundation for a building where my descendants would grow and learn.
Unsealing one egg, I placed it in a special room and began observing the maturation process, simultaneously monitoring the surrounding conditions. Unlike my northern kin, my primary interest was in obtaining a female with maximally developed intelligence and magic. Two weeks later, a small spider was born, and I immediately began raising it, instilling the thoughts I deemed necessary.
I intended to build a society where spiders were not afraid to express their opinions, where the gifted could benefit society, and where selfish, envious, and power-hungry individuals were ruthlessly destroyed. The latter point was extremely important, because even a small layer of such individuals could destroy any society, reducing it to a wolf pack.
I never considered myself a good educator. In fact, I generally tried to avoid dealing with children, but here I had to strain myself considerably, teaching the pure mind of the female spider all the intricacies of future life. Alas, this individual did not meet my stringent standards. The Queen imbued her eggs not only with genetic memory but also with her own thoughts and emotions. And what could be expected from that fool? Naturally, her daughter began to exhibit less than ideal character traits.
Fortunately, spiders reached sexual maturity within six months. So I waited for that time, fertilized the female, and then used mental magic to control the entire process of embryonic development. The second generation was already much better, as I completely isolated the new female from contact with her mother, sending the latter to the afterlife. Another six months passed, and I bred the third generation. This time, the culling criteria were not consciousness, but heredity.
Spiders had no problems with incest. We were artificially created. Our DNA had no defects, and errors in reproduction were corrected during egg development. However, spider DNA was extremely multifaceted. During egg formation, limitations on the activation of various genes were imposed. This program could be partially bypassed by setting external conditions for egg formation, but ultimately, it heavily influenced the resulting spider.
This knowledge was encoded at the genetic level, but only females had access to it. So I only learned about such details from an individual completely loyal to me. And as sorry as I was, I had to sacrifice her to my eugenic policies to overcome all the limitations imposed on spiders over six thousand years.
The third generation was deemed successful, so I gave my future wife a suitable name – Lloth. Quite symbolic, in my opinion. I could even imagine that one day she might indeed become the goddess of the dark elves.
Then I launched the reproduction program at full capacity, and all my time for the next year was completely occupied with caring for the offspring. But then, the grown offspring took their fate into their own hands, and I only had to guide them on the path of civilization's development.
Ten years later, the island was adorned with pleasing cities, fields for crops, and lakes for fish farming. At the same time, caring for nature was one of the priority areas, so most of the territory now resembled elven parks.
The island's population was divided into three castes – mages, warriors, and workers. The latter drove the economy, the mages developed science, and the warriors... the warriors just sighed and held endless drills. After all, no enemies were observed within a radius of a couple of thousand kilometers. However, I wasn't relaxing; instead, I tried to adapt the ever-active warriors as a driving force for evolution. Under their vigilant supervision, the mages developed spider aviation, the workers built a couple of flying aircraft carriers, and I came up with the idea of conquering this entire world.
Of course, this was presented not as conquest, but as expansion of habitat. First, the scientists designed a long-range aircraft capable of staying airborne for months. Its engines ran on magic, powered by workers on duty. And the long 'autonomy' was achieved by placing a portal on board capable of transporting the crew or food over any distance directly to the base.
The aircraft itself was built on a quadcopter design. Four engines could change direction in space, providing decent cruising speed and vertical landing. The engine design was also utterly banal. It was a wide ring artifact imbued with a spell that propelled air in a given direction. As a result, such an engine functioned like a propeller, but was silent and lacked moving parts.
Magic made solving many problems not just easy, but very easy. The only problem was obtaining sufficient magical energy. I solved this by breeding a special breed of workers with particularly developed magical cores. These were perhaps the most respected and free members of society. Each such spider carried a battery on its back, where it dumped the energy it generated. Every two hours, this energy was released into the common grid and directed towards society's needs. The worker could then engage in any activity of their choice until it was time to discharge the battery again.
Unfortunately, I never managed to create capacious enough accumulators to store large amounts of energy. It was like with electricity: you can create a battery for a phone, but you cannot store enough energy to power a city for a year.
After building the first two aircraft, I sent them to map the planet. The first results came within a week, and they were... depressing. The planet indeed had only three continents. Two were at the poles and were now covered in meters of snow. The third continent was half the size of Australia and boasted impassable jungles covering its entire area.
The only strange thing was a relatively small desert in the western part of the continent. The straight border between the teeming jungles and the barren wasteland seemed strange to me. And when one of the aircraft flew closer to examine it, an even more astonishing picture emerged.
Thousands and millions of humanoid creatures walked along the jungle border, methodically destroying all vegetation and animals. Moreover, they used magic. Binoculars from the aircraft clearly showed the use of spells like fireballs or earth spikes. Descriptions of this magic appeared in chronicles of past wars.
I decided not to act rashly but to observe the mysterious enemies. After all, what else could you call creatures essentially destroying the biosphere? Within a couple of days, it became clear that the desert boundary was moving further and further east. Doing some quick calculations, I concluded that the invaders had started their work no more than six months ago. And if they continued at this rate, they would clear the continent from edge to edge within five years. This prospect didn't suit me.
First, I dropped a reconnaissance team into the jungle. Quite dangerous wild creatures lived there, but trained warriors didn't find them particularly threatening. After that, an operation was planned and carried out to capture one of the invaders, strange as that might sound. A makeshift dissection performed literally on the fly showed that we were dealing with undead. Specifically, I got the corpse of an orc that had been possessed by the spirit of a wood elf using magic. Unfortunately, the mental magic available to the warriors couldn't penetrate the undead's consciousness, and my clone, who participated in the operation, didn't achieve better results.
However, there were positive aspects to this operation. The characteristic signs in the necromancy spells suggested that demons were behind the invasion. These creatures were one of the parties in the previous war. They preferred not to fight personally, instead sending undead ahead. They couldn't reproduce; instead, they received reinforcements through portals leading to their demonic world.
I reviewed all the information I had on this race, then tasked the warriors with finding and capturing a demon. The ratio of undead to demons was usually no more than one thousand to one. Fortunately, the undead paid no attention to the aircraft hovering at an altitude of eight kilometers, especially since the aircraft was cloaked. So my forces only had to hover in the sky and observe."