episode_0013

In bustling Libra, filled with people coming and going to Meruvia, there were many inns, including one managed by a non-human entity.

Over the centuries, ownership of this inn, which had even a trace of Mara within it, changed hands repeatedly. Owners switched due to simple real estate transactions or sometimes met their demise, leading to changes in ownership.

None of them ever considered tearing down the inn to build something else, allowing the place, now known as the “Rat’s Gust,” to thrive to this day.

With fresh paint and repairs done to worn areas, the inn looked quite appealing on the outside and even more exquisite inside. The hall boasted handmade oak furniture, walls made of oak, and a floor exuding a sophisticated atmosphere. Taxidermied beasts and bone-crafted artworks purchased by the innkeeper adorned the walls, creating a hunter’s den ambiance.

The rooms lacked extravagant decorations like the hall but were kept clean through meticulous cleaning. They ranged from a 10-person room for large groups to a single room for solo travelers and a special room for those seeking unique nighttime experiences.

At the bar in the hall, patrons could enjoy well-brewed beer and grappa from the Libra Brewery at reasonable prices. For a bit more coin, they could indulge in whiskey and apple brandy. Bread, stews, BBQ, and other delicious snacks were complimentary.

Even in the bright daylight, the hall was packed with merchants, pilgrims, and mercenaries from all corners. While some locals were present, they mainly frequented the “Wailing Banshee” tavern run by the loner Jerry.

As guests enjoyed drinks and conversations, the elegant wooden door of the inn swung open, revealing a woman clad in a hooded black cloak walking in.

The locals recognized the woman and fell silent. They knew exactly who she was.

“It’s bustling as usual today.”

Morian, the witch of Dead Eagle Hill. While she never referred to herself as a witch, the entire village thought of her as one.

Libra locals, who had faced attacks from the Manchester Mage Guild, harbored disdain for sorcerers. Morian, donning her inverted black cloak and utilizing suspicious magic and alchemy to create bombs and strange potions, was a figure of intrigue.

Except for a few outliers like Maesana, the innkeeper, most viewed Morian with unease. Maesana’s relationship with Morian ranged from unreciprocated affection to a friendship.

A burly, muscular man stumbling backward with a whiskey glass in hand collided with Morian as he made his way towards the innkeeper’s room on the second floor. While no disaster ensued with the spilled whiskey, the man felt filthy.

“Hey! Watch where you’re going!”

He glared at the person he bumped into with his small eyes. It was someone of diminutive stature, draped in a large black cloak that obscured any facial or bodily features, making it impossible to discern gender.

“S-Sorry! I didn’t see you there!”

Morian offered a hasty apology and tried to continue on her way, but the man grabbed her left shoulder firmly.

“Watch wha-what you’re doing, Steeve! You’ll spill all the sa-sauce!”

Encouraged by a drunken redhead woman who seemed to be his companion, the man lost control upon her urging.

“This won’t end with just an apology!”

He then poured the contents of his whiskey glass over Morian.

Onlookers from distant lands cheered or looked bewildered, but Libra locals showed only one reaction.

They feared what might unfold next.

“Ha! What a sight! That’s why you should have walked straight ahead!”

Geohan’s voice was surprisingly clear for someone intoxicated.

Despite enduring such humiliation, Moolian didn’t react. Geohan, displeased with Moolian’s silence, shouted in frustration.

“Hey! Are you ignoring me, you bastard? You want to die, is that it? Fine, I’ll grant your wish!!!”

Geohan showed his fist to Moolian, who, after being struck squarely in the face, stumbled backward.

As a result of the impact, Moolian’s hood fell off, revealing her face.

There was nothing particularly remarkable about the face under the hood. Shoulder-length silver hair, bright blue eyes, and a cute face that looked around 12-13 years old when scrutinized closely.

Apart from the fact that her cheek was starting to swell red from Geohan’s blow, she was just an ordinary cute girl.

“What’s this? A little kid with no blood on her head?”

Geohan spat on the ground and kicked Moolian with his booted foot.

The force of Geohan’s kick caused Moolian, who was writhing on the floor, to regurgitate the egg sandwich she had for breakfast, which mixed with the vomit, emitting a foul smell on the beautiful wooden floor.

“Alright, Steven! Transform into a frog!”

The red-haired woman goaded Geohan further.

Even as things escalated to this point, there was not a single person willing to help. Instead, some were cheering at the sight of Moolian being hit.

It was all because of the damn alcohol.

“So, I mean… Why aren’t you looking straight ahead while walking!!!!”

Geohan yelled at Moolian exasperatedly.

Moolian, clutching her stomach, slowly rose from her seat.

“Ha! So you want to try your luck! Alright! Your wish is my commaaand!”

Enduring the pain, Moolian stood upright and raised her right hand, fingers spread out, palm facing Geohan, rotating it towards her face.

Then, bending her middle and ring fingers and placing her thumb against the middle finger, she made a gesture resembling devil horns.

A green light flashed from Moolian’s right hand, and as Geohan swung his fist, his body illuminated in green before disappearing, leaving only his clothes behind.

“Aaahhh! Steven! Where did Steven go!”

The woman, shocked by the unbelievable sight, ran towards where Geohan had been standing, only to stop in her tracks upon seeing a small frog emerging from the torn clothes.

“Tsk tsk. If only you had apologized, you might have been spared. Unfortunately, your Steven has fallen victim to a curse that turns him into a frog. He’ll be back to normal in about a minute. Until then, please take care of him here!”

Moolian, trying to speak cheerfully despite the pain, managed to do so to some extent. Though the strain was evident, her voice sounded like that of someone who always maintained a positive mindset.

“I hate frogs, you damn b*tch!”

The woman’s eyes were filled with visceral disgust.

Amidst everyone’s distraction by Moolian and the woman, Geohan, confused by his transformation into a frog, tried to leap out of the chaos but ended up stepping on a merchant’s foot and getting killed.

“Aaahhh!”

The merchant who was stepped on rolled his eyes back and fainted.

Immediately after being crushed to death as a frog, Geohan returned to his former self, flattened and grotesque, with organs protruding from his body.

“Aaahhh! Steven! Steven! Noooo!”

Screams erupted from all directions, and unfortunately, witnessing the frog’s death and its return as a human corpse, the red-haired woman collapsed to the ground, wailing.

“Oh dear, what a pity. You should have protected him better. It must be quite confusing to turn into a frog already.”

Even if you try reporting to the military or militia, it probably won’t work out. Among Manchester’s magic-related laws, there is a provision regarding transmutation magic that states it’s okay to use transmutation magic on someone in self-defense if you were attacked first.

If you die due to your own carelessness or someone else’s mistake after being hit by a slow transmutation spell, the mage who used the transmutation spell bears no responsibility, right? Of course, if they directly kill or cause someone to die, they will be punished, but Steven died due to his own carelessness, didn’t he? If he had just stayed still, he would have quickly returned to being human.”

The red-haired woman only wailed while clutching the flattened body. Blood and excrement stained the rough leather armor the woman was wearing.

“Also, trying to cast transmutation magic on someone else, rather than oneself, is quite difficult. Regardless of the user’s skill and the quality of the magic circuit, the success rate is purely determined by the opponent’s unique constitution. I didn’t have high hopes when I cast it, and if it hadn’t worked, I was planning to send a stinging magical bullet or something… Well, it’s a pity that it turned out this way.”

Mullian made a gesture to create horns again and cast a spell. A yellow light flashed, and Mullian’s pain disappeared.

It wasn’t a healing spell (such magic didn’t exist in the first place. There were only a few alchemical remedies that could instantly heal wounds and Prada’s Holy Blood. Using the latter to heal wounds was akin to giving up humanity and becoming an Elenis, so there was no choice but to use alchemical remedies.) It was a pain nullification spell that made one unable to feel pain. For the next ten minutes, everything would be fine.

Mullian confidently walked up to the second floor.

“Well then, adios. Let’s meet again when the opportunity arises!”

Not forgetting to bid farewell to the red-haired woman with a hand kiss, Mullian was a skilled alchemist showman.

Until the militia called in response to someone’s report and took control of the situation, the red-haired woman continued to scream… Guests either remained silent or left the inn until the red-haired woman and the flattened body disappeared.

As the inn staff meticulously erased even the bloodstains, the hall regained its lively atmosphere after the tragedy, as if nothing had happened.

In today’s world, one person dying was no big deal.

*

On the door of the innkeeper’s room hung a sign that read “Knock and come in” in pretty handwriting.

“Roo! I’m coming in!”

After gently knocking on the door three times, Mullian opened the door without waiting for the innkeeper’s response. Not forgetting to flip the sign to “Do not disturb during meetings.”

“…I haven’t said you can come in yet, Mr. Mullian.”

Sitting on the bed with a hefty ledger on her lap, Cantaloupe looked annoyed as she spoke to Mullian.

“Sorry, sorry~. But we’re among ourselves, you can cut me some slack, right?”

Mullian, to prevent soldiers responding to a report or the militia from coming, and to prevent eavesdropping, cast sealing and soundproofing spells in the room, speaking apologetically.

“It’s been twenty years since we’ve known each other~. By now, we’re inseparable best friends.”

Cantaloupe sighed, covering the ledger as she sat side by side with Mullian on the bed.

“Could you at least take off that cloak? It’s just mud that can be wiped off; it’s fine if it gets on the floor. I don’t want dirty things on the bed.”

“Do you really want me to take it off? Here on the bed? How embarrassing. Does Roo like naughty things after all?”

“Stop joking and take it off.”

Cantaloupe playfully blushed, making an X with her arms to cover Mullian’s chest, looking at him as if he were a bug.

“Yes~yes~. I’ll do as Roo wishes.”

Moorian untied the string that was holding his cloak and carelessly tossed it onto the floor.

Beneath the cloak, Moorian had nothing on except for short black hot pants that barely covered his frail chest, revealing a thin layer of white bandages and underwear. His exposed fair skin was adorned with strange characters and curved black tattoos that had never been formally documented or researched in human academia. The tattoos started from his ankles, ran up his body, and stopped at his neck.

“Ta-da! I undressed just as Luga wanted! How about that? Heart racing and uterus fluttering, right?”

“Your body is indeed feeble.”

Canteloupe observed Moorian’s body, devoid of anything remarkable except for pelvic contours.

“Unbelievable, isn’t it? Do you know how many men and women drool over such a body and die for it?”

“I suppose trash like humans get excited over such bodies.”

Moorian protruded his lips defiantly, wearing a stern expression.

“Luga also has a very feeble figure, doesn’t she? Some may prefer slender types, but most men don’t fancy such ambiguous features.”

“I am not concerned with superficial beauty.”

Canteloupe’s response did not carry the pretentious claim that inner beauty outweighs outward appearance.

“True. Canteloupe’s preferences lie deeper within.”

Saying this, Moorian traced a line from the center of his chest to below his navel with his index finger.

Although Canteloupe did not react, Moorian noticed the tremble in Canteloupe’s sky-blue eyes.

“What were you staring at? An old crush’s photo?”

Not wanting to tease her friend any longer, Moorian changed the subject.

“Yes. So, what urgent matter caused all this commotion, flipping whiskey, emitting a disgusting mix of vomit and alcohol smells? My ears were ringing from the screams.”

“You are the owner here, aren’t you? Didn’t you hear the ruckus from the hall even though your ears are as sharp as four? You couldn’t have missed it, could you?”

Moorian remarked, looking at the mouse ears perched atop Canteloupe’s green hair.

Canteloupe was neither human nor a rarity in Nebuchadnezzar.

She was a Homunculus created through alchemy, specifically a “Muse” type, the most common among them.

Not only the mouse ears but also the long rat tail casually draped on the bed served as evidence of her being a Homunculus.

While Canteloupe did not hide her Homunculus nature, she did not flaunt it either. Thanks to this, the residents of Libra and outsiders thought of her as a mythical creature (which she wasn’t).

She made no effort to correct this misconception, and only Moorian, an alchemist who knew she was a Homunculus (though Canteloupe believed he saw her more as a witch), was aware of her true nature.

Well, there was one more person who knew.

Her first love, the most beautiful and noble of them all.

It had been about three years since the monthly letters he used to send had stopped, but Canteloupe still remembered him.

Watching Moorian swing his legs back and forth while sitting on the bed, Canteloupe sighed.

“That was definitely my mistake. I couldn’t let go of the memories and ended up…”

“It’s fine! I took care of it cleanly. It wasn’t something Luga needed to come down for.”

“Is that so?”

“Someone might end up dead, and the militia or army might come looking.”

“Moorian. Didn’t I ‘yesterday’ tell you that the new commander of the military police force is eager to capture you?”

Moorian chuckled upon hearing Canteloupe’s words.

“Haah. You, as a person, are truly…”

“I’m sorry. I was just trying to scare you, but you ended up dying. Still, it wasn’t me who killed you! Even the laws of Manchester say so.”

Cantelroop sighed, grasping his head.

“…I was foolish to be moved by you and decide to trust and follow you. So why have you come?”

“The fairy has returned.”

Upon hearing Murian’s words, Cantelroop furrowed his brow.

“A fairy? The forgotten race you were researching and studying?”

“Yes! My owl familiar showed her to me! She was living about two hundred kilometers away from here, and well, that little one saw a fairy! A fairy of pure blood, at that!”

“Heh.”

Murian, seeing Cantelroop’s lukewarm reaction, felt disappointed.

“What! Why are you reacting so nonchalantly?”

“Well, I don’t have much interest in fairies, you see.”

“That’s so mean! After all the interesting fairy stories I’ve told you, what am I now?”

Like a child, Thes grabbed Murian’s arm and said with a smile to Cantelroop.

“I did find the fairy stories interesting to listen to. But I didn’t develop the same fervent interest in fairies as you did.”

“That’s just cruel…”

Murian pretended to be dead for a moment… then regained composure.

“This is something I can’t just overlook! My familiar saw something else too!”

“Oh?”

Cantelroop replied indifferently, but…

“She also saw a girl who looks similar to your first love!”

“What?”

Upon hearing Murian’s next words, Cantelroop shouted, grabbing Murian’s shoulders with both hands, bombarding him with questions.

Before the letter stopped, there was a letter stating that the first love had a child

(disgusting betrayer)

Although the letter mentioned a son…

“Is that true? Where did you see her? Is she coming to Libra? Is she pretty?”

“One question at a time! You’re all over the place!”

Murian, feeling dizzy, shook Cantelroop, holding his shoulders.

“S…sorry…”

Apologizing, Cantelroop released Murian. Murian, rubbing his shoulders, answered the questions.

“It’s true. She was quite close by here. Right next to the ‘Great Road.’ May and Victor were there too, so they might be on their way to Libra. And…”

Finishing his sentence, Murian smirked wickedly.

“…She really resembles your first love, so isn’t it natural for her to be beautiful?”

To Cantelroop’s final question, he responded.

“…”

Cantelroop picked up a hefty photo album, flipping through the pages. The album contained various photos taken by Cantelroop with an old film camera over time. Inn photos, guest photos, village residents’ photos, photos with Murian, and…

“…”

Photos with her first love.

For some reason, almost all Muses loved the same sex, meaning women. Muses who loved men were treated as defective products.

Cantelroop was no different, but before the days of hardship, she had never felt deep emotions of love towards anyone. And now, after hundreds of years…

“…”

Cantelroop caressed the photos with her first love. There were some pictures of them together, but there were more solo shots of her first love.

Her first love sitting on a chair, petting a calf with two heads, masturbating in front of Cantelroop with a large dildo,

Smiling while showing off her beautiful entrails with her belly split open on the bed…

No sex with her first love could match the ecstasy her entrails provided.

The liver of her first love was as firm as a freshly made bed, the yellow fatty tissue intertwined with veins was cute. The pastel pink lungs looked sturdy, and when Cantelroop squeezed the heart with her bare hands, it beat joyfully.

Candlelup remembered the evening when they cut through the flesh of their first love with a scalpel, consumed along with blood and gastric acid the steak they had for dinner. Despite the searing sound as the scalpel, coated in surgical gloves, pierced the skin and delved into the flesh, Candlelup felt an uncontrollable excitement watching the fat melt under the scalpel.

Rubbing cheeks against intestines, a pungent odor from the viscera pricked Candlelup’s nose. However, the pulsating sensation of the intestines, throbbing like a heart, was so delightful that she couldn’t help but press her face against them for a while.

With each breath her first love took, organs swelled and subsided in motion. Watching the visceral respiration, Candlelup pleasured herself with a large vibrating dildo.

And oh, her secretive genitalia. Her cute and lovely uterus and ovaries…

“My first love, Mirayu. A person with beautiful innards.”

Candlelup reminisced about the 128 days spent with her first love 27 years ago.

Before that, she had enjoyed sexual pleasure by slicing into the bellies of pretty women and loving their innards, but it was akin to rape, so Candlelup never truly found satisfaction.

Understanding her lover’s fetish and sharing love with her first love brought Candlelup greater pleasure and fulfillment than all the innards of the women she had disemboweled before.

“If Mirayu hadn’t left me, committing a cruel betrayal, these blissful days would have continued forever. Oh, beloved Mirayu. Hateful Mirayu. Even if I had to cut off my arms and gouge out my eyes, she shouldn’t have left me.”

“…Lu, your eyes look scary.”

Muriann gently laughed, pulling Candlelup, who was being engulfed by happy memories with her first love and hatred towards her, back to the present.

“I’m fine.”

Candlelup replied brightly with a smile. Muriann respected Candlelup’s visceral fetish, which eventually led Candlelup to settle in Libra, opening an inn after years of wandering as a mercenary.

“It’s just a passing thought from the past.”

Saying so, the proprietress of the “Mouse’s Whim” inn got up from bed to prepare to leave.

There was a lot to prepare for. Cleaning the rooms, cooking food, preparing good wine…

“Muriann, could you cast the spell we used back then again?”

Upon hearing Candlelup’s request, Muriann burst into a genuine smile and said, “For dear Lu, as many times as you wish.”

Simultaneously, she snapped her fingers, lifting the sealing and soundproofing spells.

As soon as the magic was lifted, a soldier knocked on the door and entered upon hearing Candlelup’s response, but after dealing with him appropriately, Candlelup sent the soldier away.

With a mountain of tasks ahead, there was no time to waste on dealing with idle soldiers.