Ch.11Mourning (3)

[Play Time: 8,803 hours]

My plan worked exceptionally well.

I think I wisely resolved the dilemma that to deal with a mage, you need to overwhelm them at close range, and to overwhelm them, you need mourning.

Whether it was a humane method is certainly questionable, but when survival was at stake, I had no time to worry about such things.

In other words, things are different now.

I killed people. I had already killed several before, but the fact that I had killed dozens of humans settled in my heart with a heavy sensation.

I was clearly a monster. But whether my soul and mind were also monstrous, I couldn’t tell. That’s why I sat there blankly, watching Isla busily rummaging through items and sorting out useful ones.

I didn’t want to move. Even with a monster’s body that doesn’t feel physical fatigue, I was experiencing mental exhaustion because my soul was human.

It should be a homunculus brain, not my own, so why?

I didn’t know. I’m not a mage, after all.

And I probably never will know.

But there were many other things I could understand.

[Cannibal Baron’s Coat]

[“You are my child from now on.”

-Beort Tomula, to Homunculus Ayla.

Beort Tomula lost both his wife and daughter to war.

The motivation that made him a war school mage and excellent warrior dulled through battlefields, leaving him with only his title and an empty mansion.

But he eventually found salvation. Whether it was truly salvation, no one knows.

One thing is certain: he was prepared to bear infamy for his daughter’s sake.]

[A magical coat connected to a subspace. It can be worn as a cloak or as a poncho. Free form transformation is possible.

The weight it can hold does not exceed 100kg. However, there is no volume limit, and the weight of the contents becomes the weight of the coat.]

It was the crimson cloak draped around my body. Despite its ability to freely change form, I kept it as a cloak just as the baron had worn it.

It was lighter than I expected. Reading the description, I thought it would be heavy with various items since he was from the war school, but there weren’t many things inside.

A few letters, a signet ring, and a journal.

Among them, the first thing I pulled out was the journal.

Covered in damp parchment as if soaked in water, the journal had almost all its pages filled, suggesting it had been used for at least 10 years.

It would have been nice if it were a research notebook or a culinary journal, but the journal wasn’t such a simple item.

In other words, it was a diary.

And it belonged to the man I had just killed with my own hands, Beort Tomula.

The story I had skimmed through in the game now came vividly to life through these scribbles.

I stared blankly at the journal, written so diligently that calluses must have formed on the writer’s hands.

Beort Tomula.

He was called the Cannibal Baron, but he wasn’t actually a cannibal.

Instead, he took on the infamy for his daughter’s sake.

His new daughter, improperly created and given to him by the Three Clans, was a defective product who felt endless hunger.

Because of this, her regenerative abilities were superior to other homunculi, including me, a complete product, but that was all.

The baron felt sorry for his daughter who was always hungry and tearful.

Was it mere coincidence that her symptoms improved after eating human flesh?

I lowered my eyes, thinking of those who created me and abducted my soul from Earth.

They were beings who spread harm throughout the continent.

Most incidents that occurred were their doing.

Yet no one could respond because their purpose remained unknown. There was no pattern to those bastards’ actions.

“Yap.”

Something fluffy poked my sighing face.

When I gently pressed the tail aside to clear my view, an expressionless snow leopard was looking down at me.

“Finished organizing.”

“…Good job.”

Isla showed little reaction to my praise. Rather, I could feel her observing my mood as she stared at me.

I wondered how I appeared in those blue-gray pupils. When I raised my head, I could see myself reflected in her large eyes.

My expression was gloomy. Slumped shoulders and tightly closed lips.

I could see why Isla was standing in front of me like this. She was clearly trying to comfort me in her own way.

“Thank you.”

Isla widened her eyes for a moment before narrowing them. She seemed surprised to hear such words from me.

But I was a person with decency. Someone who clearly expressed gratitude when it was due.

“Want to touch?”

When I looked up, Isla was holding her tail up to my face with her usual expressionless face.

“…What?”

“My tail.”

Ah, so that’s what it was. As I suppressed the momentary anxiety that ran down my spine, her tail swayed in front of me.

A plump, fluffy tail that somehow had a pleasantly good scent.

I could tell she was trying to comfort me in her own way.

I wasn’t really in the mood for it… or so I wanted to say, but there was something that caught my attention.

“…Isn’t it usually the chest?”

It might be a strange question, but from what I’d read online, that’s how it usually was.

Isn’t that typically considered a woman’s asset? At my straightforward question, Isla rarely frowned before proudly pushing out her chest.

It was modest but definitely present.

“My tail will feel better than my chest.”

Where does this confidence come from?

Despite seeing my bewildered expression, Isla maintained her characteristic expressionlessness while adding confidence as she pushed out her chest.

“Touch it.”

She probably didn’t mean her chest. I quietly lowered my eyes to look at her tail.

It definitely had a good texture. It gave the impression of being well-maintained.

I knew snow leopards curl their tails around themselves when cold, but even considering that, it was an exceptionally clean tail.

It even had a faint floral scent, making me wonder if she applied something to it every night before bed as part of her grooming routine.

You know, some animals are meticulous about self-care.

Like pigs.

“Not going to touch? It’ll feel good.”

At her strange urging, I finally reached out and grabbed her tail.

“…Oh?”

The sensation in my hand was quite different from what I felt when it touched my face or what I saw.

The fluffy texture of soft fur combined with a warm temperature.

It was similar to petting a dog but somehow different. It felt like touching a massive living being.

But knowing that wasn’t actually the case made it feel strange.

As I gently stroked downward, the core beneath the fur moved from side to side, making the tail sway.

When I buried my fingers between the fur, the warmth that filled my hand felt very pleasant.

So then…

When I glanced up, Isla slightly raised the corner of her mouth as if she understood what I was thinking.

It was permission. I buried my face in her tail.

“…Sniiiff.”

Isla’s scent filled my nostrils. It was different from her body odor.

Isla’s body scent was close to nothing. Whether it was because she was a born hunter or the result of training, her body emitted almost no smell.

I had expected some sweat smell or at least a lingering odor in this dark fantasy setting.

But her body mysteriously had no smell at all, and instead, occasionally emitted a faint pleasant scent when very close.

An indescribable, non-stimulating fragrance.

Unlike her body, her tail retained a rich scent.

Whether it was from products or cosmetics she used for maintenance, or simply because it was fur, I wasn’t sure, but it was similar to the pleasant lingering scent when a woman with long hair passes by.

A floral feeling would be the accurate description.

Like some unnamed flower blooming in winter…

“Ah.”

“That’s enough for today.”

The tail that had been nestled in my arms slipped away, and I looked at Isla with a somewhat disappointed feeling.

Without showing any sign of embarrassment, the straight-standing snow leopard beastkin bent down to meet my eyes.

“You might feel like something was given and then taken away, but that’s it for today.”

“…Why?”

“Because you could get addicted.”

As I was at a loss for words at her expression, Isla straightened her back and nodded. Her ears twitched for a moment.

“It should be consumed under appropriate supervision.”

Supervision. How long had it been since I’d heard that expression?

Noticing what I was thinking, Isla smiled with just the corner of her mouth.

“I’m your big sister, so I have a duty to guide you as your elder.”

“If you say so.”

It did feel disappointing. It seemed like something that would be nice to hug while sleeping.

But if the owner of the tail didn’t permit it, I couldn’t forcibly take it to smell. I suppressed my disappointment and stood up.

Still, I felt like my thoughts had cleared somewhat.

Unwanted killing, massacre, a moment when I could understand what kind of monster I had become.

But it also showed me the direction I needed to go.

“What are you going to do now?”

“First, we need to get out of here.”

The New Continent was clearly an unexplored land. Much of it was unknown, and it was also a magical realm full of exiles and banished people who had been driven from human lands because it wasn’t managed.

But that made it suitable for monsters like me.

“And after that?”

In truth, I had no reason to answer Isla. Even though we were temporarily acting together, she and I weren’t companions.

It sounds cold, but that was the reality. We were just temporary travel companions, and she had no reason or purpose to accompany me.

But still.

“I’ll look for other dungeons.”

“Other dungeons?”

My previous goals were survival and escape.

I wanted to escape from that fucking vampire’s prison and survive.

Now that I’ve achieved that, what should I do next?

“Other dungeons have artifacts for me, like this one. Powerful artifacts that can be used by those of my kind.”

I needed to collect them, become stronger, and level up.

“There are people I need to find, and bastards I need to take revenge on. I need to get stronger for that.”

People to find and bastards to take revenge on.

I didn’t elaborate, but Isla didn’t seem to mind.

Rather.

“Can I come with you?”

She spoke with quite an interested expression.

“I think it would be fun to travel with you.”

This wasn’t a quality you’d expect from the excellent hunter that the cannibals wanted to recruit.

But it was something I appreciated.

A hunter who could do anything was a companion impossible to find elsewhere.

I nodded to her with a smile, and

Before Isla could say anything, a translucent window filled my vision.

[Name: Luwellin]

[Race: Homunculus]

[Class: Warrior – Mourner 2]

[Reputation: Fugitive Blood Bag (Being Tracked)]

[Strength: 20(+5)][Dexterity: 20(+5)][Health: 20(+5)]

[Magic Power: □][Inspiration: □][Charm: □]

[Play Time: 8,803 hours]

A familiar window. Except for one part.

[Reputation: Fugitive Blood Bag (Being Tracked)]

I stared at the section labeled “reputation.”

Then the closed window expanded, and another translucent window stacked on top.

Its contents were as follows:

[Reputation]

[Fugitive Blood Bag (Being Pursued)

-You are currently being pursued by the Three Clans, and a renowned Blood Knight from the clans has been assigned to the pursuit.

So watch your shadow and keep an eye on the night sky!

You never know when your head might roll!]

“…Fuck.”

Isla flinched at my sudden curse.