Min-Maxing My TRPG Build in Another World - Volume 2 - Chapter SS2

A Maiden’s Resolve

“I don’t like gloomy goodbyes,” Margit had gallantly stated.

On the day of Erich’s departure, she did not go to meet him. In fact, the day before, she had put on an air of security by insisting that he spend his last moments in the canton with the family he was leaving behind.

Thus, she refused to chase after the carriage or cry out for him. It was too late to act spoiled, begging to pounce on those lovely shoulders one last time. All she did was watch from afar.

All eight of the jumping spider arachne’s petite legs worked in tandem to scale a massive tree on the edge of Kongistuhl. Whereas a mensch would struggle to climb the many branches, let alone rest their weight on them, Margit calmly perched atop her bark tower.

She squinted her eyes to dial in her impeccable vision on a lone carriage branching away from the departing caravan. The two splendid steeds in front were pulling along her lifelong companion and the sister for whose sake he’d accepted servitude. He was dedicating years of his time, deferring his dreams, all to win a normal life for the toddler.

In all honesty, Margit was jealous of Elisa. She knew they were kin—that Elisa was the one and only member of Erich’s family he was in a position to dote on—but the unfiltered love he showed for the girl was impressive. His self-sacrifice was nigh unbelievable; few would be willing to go to such lengths for anyone.

Margit had never before let her hideous emotion show through. Not once did she ever imply it, let alone allow it to bleed into her expression. In fact, she’d done her utmost to not pay it much mind at all. After all, she told herself, Elisa is just his sister.

However, seeing Erich leave for a life far, far away stoked the flame of her apocalyptic envy. How could it not? He was leaving to devote his life to earning a sum that could very well take lifetimes to accrue; it would be stranger not to covet a love so true.

Margit did not doubt him: had she been the one to find herself on the brink of catastrophe, Erich surely would have done the same for her. This was no youthful flight of fancy—the unwavering flames of faith burned within the maiden’s heart.

Yet a maiden as she was, the thought would not leave her side: How, oh how, could you love another as you do me?

Truth be told, Margit was prepared to welcome him back even if he played around on his journey—at worst, even if he returned with a child or two. Although she could not wrap her mind around the charms of any other prey, her mother had told her that mensch men were “just made that way,” and the young arachne felt as though she could be understanding.

But that did not extend to seeing him so passionately love someone else. An indescribable emotion beyond simple possessiveness swirled within her. Perhaps if one were to accept that mensch were made with flawed fidelity, then one could argue that the childishly violent emotion welling up now was just a part of how arachne were made—a truism that held for the web-weavers, night-stalkers, and brute-forcers of their kind alike.

The vivid flavor of iron that had graced Margit’s tongue on that twilit hill leapt through time to assault her taste buds. As the carriage slowly rolled out of view, she held her skittish legs in place by sheer force of will. Seeing him off like this was already in bad taste; she had to fight the urge to keep him in view. Otherwise, she wouldn’t be able to stop herself from leaping onto the departing buggy.

Oh, Margit thought with a bitter smile, it turns out I’m just like every other girl.

Holding back her upturned lips, she tugged at her hair and reset herself. She turned away. Just as Erich had chosen to uphold his will, she too had something that needed to be done: where his mission was to protect Elisa, Margit’s was to continue her life in the canton.

The arachne swore to steal every trick in her mother’s book. After all, Erich would never break a promise. He was the type to see things through. So while she waited, she needed to be sure that she’d be able to stand proudly beside him. As if to cheer the lovestruck girl on, her pink earpiece jingled in the wind.

[Tips] Races with strong hunting instincts often fixate on a singular, particularly impressive mark.