The outer parts of the forest were much more pleasant when wild beasts didn’t attack every few minutes. Anton led the group back into the forest, not because he expected to need assistance in battle but because there was still one profitable venture to handle before Timothy and Catarina went to visit home. It had been forgotten on their return trip from Thuston, both because everyone was exhausted and they didn’t return through the forest.

“There it is,” Anton announced.

“I still don’t see anything,” Timothy said.

“The spiders seem to have moved back,” Anton commented as he saw nearly-clear creatures on similarly concealed strands of spider silk. “It seems they were more disturbed out of their natural habitat than part of the beast horde.”

“If the spiders are back… do we just leave?” Timothy asked. “I know they’re not that dangerous individually… but…”

“I believe Catarina has prepared something,” Anton looked to her. “If you please.”

Catarina nodded. “If you could direct me, I’m not exactly certain of the location of the webs.” Hoyt and Timothy had little else to do but wait while Catarina and Anton moved about the area, Anton helping her avoid webs while she set up a formation. “I can see them when they skitter through the light,” Catarina said. “I think… we have finished. They should be repelled from this area.”

Anton nodded. “I don’t see any remaining in this section.” They had cordoned off about half of the group of webs. Diamondsilk spiders were more communal than other spiders- with many living together peacefully. It helped that they were able to catch prey such as birds many times larger than themselves while they remained individually small with only moderate food needs. From Anton’s research they did require a larger amount of food to produce their webs, but if they left some behind the colony of spiders should be alright. The cultivators had actually been hoping the group had migrated- since animals often learned which section they inhabited- but at least this way they could get some of the webs without driving the group to death or provoking their wrath. Anton took the first of many spindles out of his pack and found where one strand attached to a tree, sticking it to the roller and beginning the motion. “Timothy, start with this.”

They didn’t exactly have to be gentle with the roller. It wasn’t called diamondsilk for nothing. However, there were good reasons to roll at a measured pace. Strands crossed each other, and if the whole web was just pulled into one bundle around a spindle it was less usable than if it were properly rolled. Of course, with many of them unable to really make out what they were working with… it still happened. They were all amateurs in the field regardless of other talents. Still, it was good to try to do it themselves rather than hiring someone else.

Everyone twisting a spindle could feel the tension, even if they couldn’t see the thread until it started to form multiple layers around the spindle. It wasn’t completely invisible, and the repeated distortion of light through its strands allowed it to gradually become more visible on the spindles. Anton continued to pick his way around, starting spindles and picking out crossing strands. He really missed having a magic bag. Unfortunately, they weren’t cheap. Five thousand contribution points… might actually be obtainable in a reasonable time. But at the moment it was just a convenience instead of a necessity.

Anton stepped over to one side of their cleared area. “The spiders seem to be returning…” Despite their exceptional nature, diamondsilk spiders weren’t magical beasts able to use energy. Thus, forming a small barrier to keep them away was simple. Even with dozens of them, their combined force was less than a child pushing against him with one hand. Anton held up the temporary barrier while he looked to Catarina.

“The formation… changed…” Catarina said. She looked around. “I forgot. We changed the flow of energy by removing the webs.”

Anton shrugged, “I can’t really tell any difference. But I’ll leave the judgement to you.”

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

Catarina moved about, fixing the formation, and the spiders pulled away again. “Now we can finish.”

-----

Diamondsilk could easily be exchanged for contribution points- even if the Order raised some spiders, they really needed a lot of space and the right conditions… which were mostly in the forest. It was also tricky work that required someone with refined eyes to watch for spiders attempting to leave containment.

However, nobody was really hurting for contribution points at the moment. Each had received an equal share of contribution points for The Hunt- even if Hoyt wasn’t physically present in Thuston he was certainly responsible for some of the success in the village’s survival. Making something practical out of it would in turn cost some contribution points, but much less since they could provide the materials.

Even with giant webs and a large number of them, the amount of material they had was limited. Each strand was extremely thin, so weaving it into clothing wasn’t really possible. At most, they could make a full undershirt for one of them. However, while it would certainly be valuable to do so, the actual practical effect wouldn’t be as much as splitting it. Diamondsilk could be woven into other thread to greatly increase its strength- enough that everyone could get a full undershirt that would protect against cuts and stabs. Since it was flexible and thin cloth, it would do little against bludgeoning impacts but it could be worn under anything else without discomfort. Personally, Anton thought full diamondsilk garments would be a bit… uncomfortable. Not physically, but mentally. It was almost completely invisible, after all. Certainly not something that could be worn as anything but an additional layer.

The decision to have defensive undershirts made would slightly delay the departure of Catarina and Timothy, but they didn’t have a strict schedule they were adhering to regardless. It was unlikely they would need the additional protection on that journey, but everyone was eagerly looking forward to some tangible fruits of their labor.

-----

Anton stretched. He felt like a cat, though the way they distorted themselves he knew he was at best only slightly catlike. He still had a spine and all that. Sometimes, he wasn’t sure that cats did. He could feel his tendons reaching the peak of the refinement process. Each additional step towards refining his body took more work, but Anton found the whole process invigorating. Though he might traditionally stay statically in place for the formation of a star, that was merely for purposes of concentration. He found he was experienced enough in cultivation that he could do so while moving, though of course the effect might vary greatly. In battle would be quite impossible, but a nice bit of moving around his courtyard was easy enough. Even for a breakthrough it felt appropriate to make use of his body. He pulled on his bowstring, with no arrows, just feeling the strain on his tendons as he did so.

He had no idea how strong he needed to be. Spirit Building at the very least, but he didn’t need to stop there if he could go further. The world just didn’t have the problems of Dungannon to deal with, but others like those bandits and dangerous beasts. It even could use more everyday people who knew a bit of cultivation in their work, further from centers of cultivation like the Order.

It wasn’t clear if making himself and the world better was a proper reason to cultivate. It seemed a bit too broad…but it was certainly better than just revenge. The bowstring twanged as Anton’s fingers let it go. Revenge was certainly still on the table. However, he had to balance between practically being able to accomplish that revenge and spending too much time. It had been nearly eight months since the destruction of Dungannon and the beginning of his cultivation. Anton knew cultivators worked in longer timespans than the rest of humanity, but it felt so long. When he’d been living happily and working? Eight months was almost nothing. Every year birthdays of great-grandchildren had surprised him. Now, he never truly relaxed. At most, he distracted himself for a time.

His grip tightened on the bow. He pulled back, almost as if he was trying to break his bow or his arm or snap his tendons. That wasn’t quite the case. If he truly injured himself he wasn’t sure if he could recover even with good medicines and the aid of natural energy. However, he had to push himself. Anton was beginning to understand that his speed of cultivation was unexpected for his age, and perhaps even faster than some of the younger generations. He couldn’t say it was easy, though he had to admit it was more smooth than he’d anticipated… but he always had to push himself. If he slowed down now… he felt he would never accomplish anything. Complacency would be the end. And yet… he needed patience.

His arm strained, muscle and bone and especially tendons. He switched sides, though he would never have reason to shoot left handed. He stretched his body to the limit as he forced energy into it. Just a bit more patience. As he felt the pressure peak inside of him, it finally collapsed into the seventh star. He breathed out slowly. He wasn’t sure if he would have the proper mental and spiritual fortitude for Spirit Building. He might destroy himself. Perhaps he needed to take some of his own advice and revisit his home. How different would it seem, not even a year later?