As I looked up at the eight-foot spider woman in front of us, I realized that this was the first truly monstrous non-human I had met since being reincarnated. Orcs, goblins, elves, dwarves—all were basically humans with different skin colors or height thresholds. But her? She was an honest-to-gods non-human, complete with thorax and extra eyes. I never had considered myself an arachnophobe, but I was willing to admit when I was wrong.

  She was tall. At least eight feet from the bottom of her black chitin legs to the top of her head. Her hair was long and flowing, a deep color like midnight, pulled into a loose braid and cascading down her back. She wore a loose, flowing grey robe that looked like it was spun from silk, the neckline dangerously plunging. Her arachnid body was massive and black, with red-tipped claws. She had three sets of pupilless, silvery eyes around two human eyes that were the same shade. On top of her head sat an intricate silver tiara. Her human body was…

  Listen, there’s no polite way to say this. Crown/Last Decree was the result of a gooner-brained shut-in who got lucky. The designs of the female characters were not exactly what I would call progressive, though in this world that had mostly been downplayed. This spider lady was the exception. She was… bodacious? No, maybe more… generously proportioned? Rubenesque? Abundant and overflowing?

  She was thicc, alright. Like a bowl of oatmeal. Oatmeal with marmalade and molasses and topped with caramel. Her cup runneth over, mostly out of the neckline of her robe.

  Right now, this well-proportioned spider woman was approaching me and Mug slowly but surely, her human head cocked to the side curiously as she watched us. Mug gulped and held up his new glaive, though I could see the tremor in his hands. That’s odd; he had faced down the two on the road with barely any real hesitation.

  “I had just finished with my new friends here, but I can make room for dessert. Tell me, goblin, are you dessert?” Mug gulped again but did not drop his glaive. I mentally braced myself for a fight, but something in me caused me to pay attention to the scene around me. Time slowed as I surveyed the grove. The soldiers were all wrapped tightly but appeared otherwise unharmed. There was no blood anywhere, for that matter, which didn’t really match with what Pauvert had told me. Even now, the way she approached seemed more cautious rather than overtly menacing.

  I made my decision. I used Alchemical Recycling to make another Earring of Messaging and popped it directly in front of her. She took eight skittering steps backward as it flew through the air and landed, but after a few moments of observation, she stepped forward and picked it up, placing it to the side of her head.

  ‘Hello. Can you hear me? Is this thing on?’ She gasped and nearly dropped it before recovering herself, placing it back to her head.

  “How amusing! A talking metal bucket! I have seen many things in my life, but never this! Tell me, bucket, what exactly are you here for? Are you an ally of these tin soldiers?” She motioned to the cocooned men resting on the ground.

  ‘Er, yes and no. It’s complicated. But before we get into any of that, I want to ask you something. Do you know what has made the local spiderlife more aggressive lately? Is that something that you like, or is it an issue for you as well? Also, were you gonna kill those guys?’ I knew it was more than one question, but I wanted to be sure. Fighting the spiders on the road had been a struggle for survival, but I realized now that I wanted to be known as someone who spoke before shooting. Not only was it kinder, but I felt it would make me fewer enemies in the long run. No one likes a murderhobo.

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  She crossed her arms in front of her before answering. “So many questions! But yes, I do indeed know. And no, it is not something that I like. It’s really ruined my mating season, if you must know. And as for killing those soldiers… I hadn’t planned on it, but I could be persuaded. I’m very persuadable.” I ignored the obvious implication.

  ‘Ok, alright. Cool. Well, madame…' I waited for a beat for her to introduce herself. I had a teacher back in grade school who would always say that it never hurt to have manners. She gave a small laugh.

  “Oh, Madame! I haven’t been called that in years! I am known as Queen Aranya of the Moonweave, First Among Mothers and Womb of Night. Tell me, sir, whom do I owe the pleasure of speaking?” She did a sort of curtsy as she spoke, causing new and exciting applications of physics that until now I had considered unrealistic. I prodded Mug forward with a leg; it was a squire’s duty to introduce their lord. Also, in my head, talking to a beautiful spider-woman would build confidence faster in him than a hundred battles. I know it was something I never could do in my last life.

  “Introducing The Divine Spirit of House Freise, the Celestial Lugenhelm! First Among Trashcans! Owner of a Bakery! I am his loyal squire Mug! Slayer of Fume Wyrms! Dodger of Rocks!” He dropped his glaive and stood at attention while he spoke, eyes wide and brow slightly sweaty. He had even introduced himself, which never happened.

  I hadn’t paid much attention to Mug due to the giant arachnid woman in front of us, but I looked at him now and saw something surprising. His face was flushed, his pupils dilated, and his eyes were pointedly everywhere but at Aranya. It was like he was avoiding looking at her. Was he scared? No, that couldn’t be it. Then it dawned on me.

  He was attracted. The dirty little goblin was smitten; it was written all over his green face. I guess it made sense; he was an orc, even if he was in denial. A big, beautiful woman would be sure to attract a race of equally impressive men. In the eternal battle of nature versus nurture, nurture was clearly winning this round. I internally sighed, then turned my attention back to Aranya.

  ‘Er… yes, well. Nice to meet you, Queen Aranya. Mug and myself here have been hired to find out what is causing the recent change in behavior in your, I’m assuming, kin? Which, it sounds like you know about, or at least can put us onto the right path. I know this is all very sudden, but what would you say about working together? Also, I was not insinuating you should kill the soldiers, so you know. Please do not.’ She giggled again, a husky, knowing sound.

  “Please, Queen is so formal and stifling. Call me Madame. So, you wander into my woods and offer me assistance with a problem that your employer created? How very gracious of you, Celestial Lugenhelm.”

  ‘Just Lugenhelm, please, celestial is too pretentious. Wait, what do you mean by a problem our employer caused?’ Aranya scoffed, unfolding her arms and placing them on her hips. Every movement she made made me want to avert my eyes. Mug was staring at his feet very intently, realizing it was a losing battle.

  “I assume you and these tin soldiers are working for that horrid man in his shabby home on the edge of the woods, yes? If so, then I mean exactly what I said; he caused this mess, and now you are offering to let me assist you in cleaning it up?” I had to admit she sounded like she was telling the truth. Pauvert was a horrid man in a shabby home. That meant she was probably right about this being his fault as well.

  ‘Madame Aranya, I of course meant no offense. If you would be so kind as to explain to myself what is going on, I would be forever grateful. As far as I know, I was hired to fight some rampaging monsters, but believe me, that man is no great ally of mine. If you could help me understand, maybe we can figure something out? Something that benefits us both? Tit for tat, is what we say where I’m from.’ She cocked an eyebrow at the word ‘tit’ but otherwise grew serious. She seemed to debate with herself for a moment before stepping forward and kneeling so that she was closer to my level.

  “Very well, Lugenhelm. But if you betray me, know that I will have my males dissolve you in their acids and your goblin eaten alive by broodlings. Fair?”

  ‘Fair. One more thing; do me a favor and let those guys go? I wasn’t technically asked about them, but I feel like this is one of those situations where if you see something you have to say something.’ She gave a fake, dramatic pout, the effects of which made Mug choke on his own saliva.

  “Oh, alright… but can I keep one, as a treat?”