Chapter 1 - Now I'm a spider, what?! -

Another life, the exact opposite of what was promised to me. It was not unexpected, after all Being X proved to be a sore loser and threw one impossible situation at me after another. And I thrived in the madness of war, just to spite him. Until I could no longer, at that time I decided to embrace eternal damnation instead of bending to his will. But as stated before, that was not the end for me. For now, in my third consecutive life, he left me alone, but I knew he must have been planning something.

As such I found myself being born in the age of classical Antiquity. Either ancient Greece or Rome. As luck would have it, or rather Being X would, my knowledge of this time period was not as extensive as my knowledge about the late 19th and early 20th centuries back from my first life as a Japanese salaryman. I knew some names since a lot of basis for mathematical formulas of my second life magic was laid in this period, I knew about the brave 300 hundred Spartans and that the internationally accepted names of planets of our star system came from names of different "gods" of this era. Just the mention of the word "god" soured my mood, luckily I knew that there were no gods, Being X's existence proved that much.

Surprisingly my situation was not bad. My parents were still alive and quite happy to raise me. I never had to starve as my father, in this life, was rather a famous dyer, which brought a lot of money and food to the table. While I decided not to pursue the family business, as making dyes could be a health hazard, as proved by my father's chronic cough, instead, my intention, was to start an accompanying business. Such as making cloth and fabric.

It looked like a reasonable profession to pursue as all people would need clothes. It was a profession that could not be employed, by any means, directly on the frontlines of war and was incredibly profitable and stable. However, the process of making fabric was rather slow and tiresome. Something that would be automated in modern times. Through the observation and understanding of the cloth-making process, I was able to come up with "innovations". I remember watching a documentary, in my first life, on how the process of cloth for military uniforms has been industrialized.

Initially, there was some resistance to adopting a better technology, from some of the old, more traditional, folks. But with a little nudge, by saying, that goddess Athena herself enlightened me with these ideas, they've accepted modernization and started producing fabric and cloth in ever larger quantities.

The word spread far and wide and soon a lots of peddling merchants were coming, our way to buy our fabric and cloth. The coffers were overflowing, and with that, I was able to afford better advertisements. Some bold claims here and there, some gods' names uttered and all the business was flowing my way. Our cloth production could not keep up with demand. The artificial scarcity drives up the prices. How sad that ancient people, could not comprehend what I was doing. In the modern world, this would be considered a shady business practice and could bring a bad reputation to the company if discovered. But here, people could only spread information so fast, by word of mouth. And with the right monetary incentive, they would tell the exact narrative I wanted. Soon, the Arachne's clothes would be famous all around the Mediterranean and so expensive that only truly rich or nobles could afford them. With that, I should be able to afford to retire early in a nice city, in a villa of my own.

The business was going spectacularly. In a few months, a year at most, I would be able to retire early. There was so far no sign of Being X and I've barely entered my twenties, which meant that I could spend some forty to fifty years leisurely. I could not wait! The only thing that marred it, was this old lady, self-proclaimed priestess of Athena, who was trying to label me a heretic in all but name. According to her, I usurped Athena's name in my advertisement. Which technically was true, but she had no realistic way of knowing it. So it was a false claim from her. Sadly, this has the potential to have a negative impact on my business and by proxy my early retirement plans. With that, it was impossible to refuse the old crone's challenge in tapestry crafting, as ridiculous as it sounded. Alas, I could not afford to lose, as the victor would be the one in the right.

Once the old priestess arrived, the "competition" started. Weaving a tapestry is a simple business of math and endurance, which thanks to the fact that I retained my magic, from previous life, was easy. It took me an hour to set everything up. Meanwhile, the old crone had already finished several rows on her tapestry and to the onlookers, it looked like she was winning. A snarky old lady managed to squeeze in some comments on my person. Telling me to beg the goddess for forgiveness. As if! With everything set up, I've started finally working on my own tapestry. Within five minutes I caught up with a crone's progress, within ten minutes I left her in dust and within an hour I was putting the finishing touches on my work. The old priestess was staring daggers at me, but soon got tired of it and started making hasty progress on her tapestry.

While the one who finished first was not automatically declared winner. It was my speed that would win this competition. In time the old lady labored, I had free time and was able to network with judges. Find out who was fanatically on the old priestess' side and avoid them. Learn the likes and dislikes of more neutral judges, charm them with my sweet words or incentivize them with gold and jewelry. It was so easy.

With almost a pity I looked at the old crone, who was finally finishing her work. Since it was dusk already, it must have taken her almost a whole day. Her work was nice, she must have a great skill, that would guarantee her a victory under normal circumstances. Alas, this was not a competition she could win, because the winner was decided hours ago. And it was me!

The priestess looked confident in her own victory. Her tapestry displays the hubris of humans and how would gods punish them. Typical religious nonsense. Though people of this era were quite superstitious and some of the judges who had pockets stuffed full of my gold, broke under religious pressure. This was within a margin of error. And in the end, I've won 12 to 5.

The crone looked livid. She was about to do something unreasonable, wasn't she? The old priestess transformed or at least created an illusion around her to look like Athena and proclaimed herself to be the goddess. She then proceeded to condemn all the onlookers and judges, for their hubris. They all looked scared and were prostating themself on the ground, begging for forgiveness. Of course, something like this would happen! When fanatics do not get what they want, they kick and scream and lie. And use magic to impersonate their gods, to give their own words more weight!

The moment she turned to me I was ready. Through a magnifying glass, I've fired optical formulae at her. I would have preferred an explosive formula, but sadly there were no guns or bullets in classical Antiquity. She looked surprised and in pain. And so was I. Pain because whatever spell she cast, it must have done some damage to my legs, they felt as if they were on fire. And surprise, because I expected her illusion to be dispelled and cauterized would to appear on an old crone, in the place where an optical formula hit her. Instead, she still looked like an Athena impersonator, just with one hand and from the place where her left hand once was, the glittery golden substance was sparkling onto everything in range, myself included.

Before I could attack again, and fire an optical formula, she ran away, leaving only decoy illusion in her place. The pursuit was impossible. Without a computation orb, there was no flight and my legs were hurt by an unknown spell. Clearly, this must have been one of Being X's ilk, because normal humans do not bleed gold. But it was suspicious, that he did not appear in the most crucial moment to gloat and make me submit. There must have been something else going on.

Suddenly a rock hit my head. It did nothing more than annoy me, as the protective film was applied all over my body. Looking at the offender, I saw my own father with an outstretched hand. I did not understand. Why would my father throw a rock at me, with the intention to hurt me and murder in his eyes? There was no action committed that would warrant such hate. But it did not stop there. All of the onlookers were either frighteningly looking at me or were arming themselves with various make-shift weapons of daily objects.

Was this some kind of Being X's plan? To let me have an easy life and then take it from me? Have my loyal employees, my own family, my business partners and nobility turned their back on me? To drive me into the corner, if I don't pray? The mob was slowly advancing. I had to act before it was too late. Fighting them all would be foolish, which left running away as the only option. But running away, proved to be harder than expected. I now had eight legs instead of two, they were also spider legs attached to the spider body, which was now my own lower body, scaled up to the size to fit a human torso. In the end, I've somehow managed to get away from the angry mob armed with torches. I had no intention to find out how much flammable was my new lower body. The night helped with hiding.

The shock of not being human anymore never came. Was this my new normal? Was I so used to the ridiculous situations, set up by Being X, that even turning into a monster did little to nothing to my psyche? Or was it just so incomprehensible, that my brain refused to process it? In the modern day, there would have been a psychiatrist or other specialist available to explain my condition to me. In the 21st century, people would also be more accepting of my situation. Most of them would either think that I was an alien or dimensional travel or something similar. There would be also some religious fanatics that would outright reject me, but those were in the minority in the modern world. Sadly, the current world is full of such superstitious people. Superstitious people armed with torches and pitchforks. While mathematical magic could do a lot of things, it was still bound by laws of physics and thus could not perform proverbial miracles. Like changing people's perceptions of me. The illusion could be cast, to hide my spider-rear, but it could not change the space it occupied. Thus people would eventually collide with it, causing the illusion to break and then the torches would be raised once again. This was unacceptable! I did not work myself to the bone, just to have my early retirement snatched away from me in such a way!

"Damn you, Being X!"

Now I wanted to cry, but that would not solve anything. Reasonable life within human society was just not possible anymore. If I wanted to live and not be killed by a mob of people, I would have to avoid personal contact with humans at all costs.

"Hmm,"

Thinking about it, wouldn't an island be a great place to avoid human contact? If I remember correctly there should be several islands east and northeast from the mainland where I lived. What was it called Lesvos or Lesnos, the memories of my first life felt so distant and blurry. But I was certain that there was supposed to be an island. On my way towards the sea, I stocked some supplies and once the coast was reached, I liberated some poor fisher's boat. The island was not that far, in the worst case it would be just a waystation to another one.

After scouting the surrounding no humans were found. This place was uninhabited and perfect for my leisurely life, as a half spider. Seasons changed and time has passed, I have probably lost count after a few years. It was hard to keep track of time while living in complete isolation. I might have spotted human once or twice over time, but they never seemed to dwell on the island for long, maybe the giant spider webs I used to hunt big game has something to do with that? If they believed that the island was cursed then they would not stay for long.

But alas my isolation was not to last forever. Eventually, the permanent settlers came, they treated my webs with respect and avoided areas that were marked by them. What a nice neighbors. Maybe I would be able to communicate with them? But what would I talk about? I was completely out of my waters because I didn't speak with another human being for what must have been decades. I did not know! And it terrified me. But before I could get my bearings, before I was ready to talk with humans again a human found me first. A young woman who was a poet, Sappho, she called herself. Her rhymes were nice and over time and numerous conversations with her, I was able to get over my rusted conversational prowess.

One day she came with broccoli and told me that I was her muse and how beautiful I was. That was a nice confidence boost.

"Would you step on me?" she asked.

Was she stupid? With my current weight and spindly spider feet, she would have died!