CHAPTER 92 He Won’t Kill Us While We’re Visiting

Keith

The first time Keith had met Derilla Vane, he'd escaped the not-so-careful watch of his godmother while she lounged in a hot spring.

He'd been five, and sitting around scratching scales for a few hours was not his idea of fun, so he'd wandered off into the caves to hunt frogs.

Instead of frogs, he'd been met by eyes, many, many eyes.

Unbeknownst to all, the arachne had settled in the mountains, silently spreading their webs through the deep caves beside Thistlecrick. In his meandering, Keith had found one of the caves and a young arachne boy. Derilla's two regular-sized and six smaller emerald eyes peeked out from inky black hair as he paused in the middle of practicing web spinning. He stared at the strange, demi child that had entered his cavern.

The two had stood there, taking each other's measure, before launching into battle.

The boys fought to a stalemate, fang versus magic, spinner versus shield. They eventually swore an oath to let the other go free, if for no other reason than they'd both grown bored waiting for the other to fall.

The two had spent the rest of the afternoon catching frogs, until Derilla's elders had found them. There had been a great commotion, but the arachne elders permitted Keith to live because killing him would have made Derilla an Oath Breaker.

They'd let him go, and on that day the Dark Enchanted Forest discovered a new race of monsters in their midst.

Feliwyn had not been pleased, but the dragon eventually accepted the arachne into her domain after they'd promised her fifty bolts of spider silk per year.

Feliwyn very much liked pretty things.

Shortly after that, Chloe and Rufus had been picked up and tasked with keeping him alive until he was old enough to fight off assassins and arachne and worse.

Derilla Vane had grown up strong enough to claim the title of General of the North. Keith probably should have informed Henrietta about Derilla's race, but he was used to her unfazed appearance to all things evil.

Including himself.

"Oh my," Ria breathed. "It's a spider."

"He," Keith chastised, squeezing her hand. "He is a spider."

"I am, and I always have been." A deep chuckle sounded throughout the hall.

Elder Clarissa, having finished escorting them, politely excused herself.

The General of the North was of average height for the intelligent races, and his head came up to just below Keith's chin. He had jet black hair, cut short and swept back with winged sides, and his eyes shone the same green as in his youth. He wore a fine white spider silk tunic, fastened around his waist with a brown leather belt. Below the belt was his spider body. As far as Keith understood, the carapace held the arachne's intestines, sex organs, and thread spinners, while the upper anthropoid torso held the heart, lungs, kidneys, and other important organs required to keep his fleshy bits functioning.

"Hello, my friend." Keith reached out and locked forearms with the arachne.

Derilla flashed Keith a sharp-toothed grin, his spider chelicarae fangs protruding out of the sides of his mouth and curving inward. "Well met. And who is this tasty morsel?"

"Someone who could wrestle you into submission faster than my godmother," Keith mused. Instead of replying herself, Ria looked distractedly off in the distance. Her notification tab must have reacted. "Henrietta, Derilla. Derilla, Henrietta.

Hearing her name, Ria recovered herself. "It's nice to meet you."

The princess crept forward and offered her hand. Derilla, with his usual predatory grace, scooped it up and bowed low for a kiss. His poisonous fangs mere inches from her flesh.

"Charmed," the arachne said; he held Ria's hand longer than was polite, and she frowned, snapping it back.

"I thought you said that you'd tell me if you were uncomfortable?" Keith teased. There were still moments when she revealed that she came from another culture.

"Be nice." Derilla moved back, giving Ria space. "I am pretty terrifying by human standards."

"I'm not afraid!" Ria countered, her eyes glinting with a fierce intent. "I'm just wondering why my [Sword Aura] is flagging you as an enemy who wants to kill us?"

Derilla threw back his head and laughed. "Because I am."

Keith felt a headache coming on.

Henrietta's hand went to her sword, but Derilla only laughed again. "I will not attack you here, Princess. You're under my hospitality."

"Then why?"

"I might ask you why you have your class skills active while in my home?" Derilla crossed his arms.

She shrugged. "I used it en route and never bothered to deactivate it. And assassins are everywhere these days. Though I wasn't expecting the notification to warn me about you, General Vane." She stared pointedly at the arachne.

"He wants to be king of the Dark Enchanted Forest," Keith explained. "He hasn't figured out how to kill me or rule without needing to take a nap in the cold. Oh, and I'm just more powerful and better at fighting than he is."

"For now." Derilla gripped a fist and pointed a finger at Keith. "I may rest in the winter, but you have stagnated while I grow stronger. As you tinker with toys, I train in darkness. I will drink your blood and feast upon your corpse until Chloe wrestles it from my [Mana Drain Web]."

"He's also fun at parties," Keith deadpanned. That particular perk had been an inconvenience the last time they'd fought. "And keeps his hospitality. He won't kill us while we're visiting, but every few years, he challenges me for the kingdom."

"Can just anyone challenge you for the kingdom?" Ria let go of the hilt of her blade and turned big eyes on Keith.

"Technically?" Keith shrugged.

At the same time Derilla said, "No."

"Anyone from Nilheim may challenge me." Keith pushed up his glasses. "During the winter solstice."

"It's most inconvenient." Derilla Vane sighed, then waved the two of them over to the veranda door. "I am at a disadvantage. But the higher my level, the easier it is to ignore my physiological needs like torpor."

Keith took Henrietta's arm again and escorted her outside. A light rain had rolled in, dripping off the curved roof overhang above them. A merry fire flickered in a brazier, providing enough warmth that the cool air wasn't uncomfortable. There was a short table with cushions laid out around it, and Keith let Ria take a seat first before he plopped down beside her.

"What level are you now?"

Derilla smiled, revealing all his sharp, pointy fangs. "Seventy-one."

Henrietta started and stared at their host over her shoulder. Keith raised an eyebrow.

"Congratulations." He took off his glasses to wipe them as they fogged up from the cool damp. "I suppose we'll be seeing you at the castle again this solstice?"

"Count on it."

Keith enjoyed the misty afternoon aesthetic and settled in for some moon-shaped floofpoof egg cakes and lotus tea.

He had his mouth full of the dessert when Ria asked, "Will I be fighting beside you this winter … or do I get to compete?"