My Eldritch Horror Wife Followed Me To Another World
Chapter 84: Jealousy

Chapter 84: Jealousy

"No, not like that. Gentler. You aren’t killing the arrow. You’re helping it shed its skin," Nuir told Nick.

"..." Nick frowned and looked at his crooked and jagged stick. No matter how he tried, his knife would get caught on the fibers and halt, creating lumps and nicks in the shaft.

Nuir, on the other hand, had already turned several of the branches on the tree Nick had taken down into fine, straight, arrow shafts ready to be tipped and fletched.

Arrow-making. That was what they had settled on doing when Nuir woke up again.

Nick was happy to learn something new, and Nuir wanted to do something, but was limited by his injuries. Making arrows was a little straining, but he was used to it, so it was more relaxing than anything.

However, Nick wasn’t doing so well.

At first, he blamed his knife, so he shamelessly asked Nuir to trade. It didn’t make a difference.

He just didn’t understand how Nuir could take a few strokes here and there on the branch to suddenly make it straight and balanced.

He tried to look at Nuir and copy what he did, but looking away while playing with knives was a little risky, so Nick missed half of what Nuir was doing while he tried to keep up.

"I’m starting to think this isn’t my thing," Nick said after ruining four perfectly good branches.

Nuir rolled his eyes. It wasn’t because he had already made almost a dozen arrows. It wasn’t because Nick was complaining, either.

"Or maybe you need practice to be good at it?" Nuir suggested.

"That’s...a very good point." Nick sighed and picked up another branch. He decided to take one of the thicker ones that would need to lose more than just a few shavings to become a decent arrow. It had more room for error.

He focused on making the arrow despite feeling Nuir’s glances. However, as the silence dragged on, he eventually decided to say something.

"So, are we making bows after this?" Nick asked. If he wanted to learn how to use the arrows he made, he would need a bow.

"No." However, Nuir’s answer disappointed him and shot down his dreams of becoming the next Robin Hood.

"Bows are a little more demanding to make. They need the right kind of wood, treatment, and additional materials. I mean, if you want a child’s toy, you can grab a bigger branch and some string. But it will be as reliable as your arrows."

"...I see." Nick tapped the branch with the knife. Getting the right wood and materials would probably be difficult. They would have to ask the others for help. And it would have to be after Nuir recovered. But maybe a bow-making party was next on the agenda?

"How did you learn all this?" Nick asked curiously. Nuir was good at it because he had done it a lot, but that didn’t explain how he had learned it.

"My mom taught me most of it. The rest, I taught myself."

’Ah. Landmine.’ Nick wanted to smack himself. Nuir probably didn’t want to talk about his mother.

However, the tentacle poked him before pointing at Nuir and making a perpendicular circular motion as if asking him to continue.

’Does she want me to...?’ Nick was skeptical but decided to trust the tentacle.

"What was she like?" He asked.

"..." Nuir was silent as he gazed straight into the forest, looking at nothing.

"Warm," He said with a deep sigh.

"I remember her always smiling. Even when teaching the stupid bastards of my tribe manners, she was happy. She loved the tribe."

Nick frowned slightly.

If Nuir’s mother loved the tribe and could raise such a good son, it was likely that the tribe liked her.

’Then why is Nuir being treated like this?’ The question gnawed at Nick.

"Nuir, I’m sorry in advance, and you don’t have to answer, but I have to ask. What happened to make your uncle and tribe members treat you like this?" The answer to that question could be the solution to Nuir’s struggles.

"..." Nuir didn’t answer immediately. It was something he had asked himself many times. He understood why Nick was asking it.

If it had been just a few hours ago, Nuir would have refused to answer.

But after being on the receiving end of Nick’s and the tentacle’s kindness and sincerity, it was clear that Nuir could trust them. It was in large part thanks to the tentacle, though.

Any human who lived with a tentacle monster in their basement couldn’t be an ordinary human.

"My uncle...was jealous."

It was a simple answer. A few words that told Nick a lot.

Nuir’s uncle was jealous of Nasam. When she died, he did his best to erase her memory and influence over the tribe as the next in line to the chief position. And since Nasam was gone, he could only vent his frustration and inferiority on her son, Nuir.

It was a despicable answer.

Nick did not have a good impression of the Lowat tribe, as if Nuir’s still bruised face wasn’t enough.

However, the answer gave Nick another idea. But this time, he restrained himself. It was a highly unlikely possibility, considering what he knew of the tribes of Tiabe. He wasn’t going to voice it just because he wanted to burden Nuir with it.

It was also an idea he got because he had seen movies and shows. Movies and shows weren’t reality. He wasn’t going to let them affect how he interacted with Nuir.

For now, Nuir just needed to worry about his recovery and the possibility of salvaging the arrows Nick had tried to make. It was a waste of excellent material. They were made from wood from the center of the forest, after all.

The arrows were sturdy, well-balanced, and with enough flexibility not to shatter on impact. Nuir couldn’t wait to get some arrowheads and fletchings onto them and try them out.