Ch.32Marcy (4)

By the time everything had ended, it was night.

The cold sea breeze was blowing harshly, and the time was filled with the wretched sight of corpses still scattered about.

I was in an inn not far from the ship where I had been earlier.

To be precise, it was once an inn but had now been seized and was being used as a base for the lackeys of the Three Clans.

I was currently in the best room of that inn.

The bed was soft. I didn’t know what kind of fur was inside, but it felt like my body was sinking into it, comfortable and warm.

But that didn’t bring me any drowsiness or comfort. I remained awake, staring blankly.

It wasn’t because there was only one room, or because there was only one bed.

The situation was too devastating for me to be excited about the fact that there was a woman sleeping right next to me.

I stared blankly at the ceiling.

‘My mission is to kill the Golden Nightingale, Melody.’

That’s what the shapeshifter had said. He rambled on about the purpose too, but I could understand without him having to explain.

Melody was Lucilla’s right hand. She was a level 20 duelist scholar bard, and a well-trained swordswoman.

Considering the Three Clans’ plans she had thwarted alongside Lucilla, and the clan soldiers she had killed, it made sense that they wanted her dead.

If this were a game, I might have saved and handed her over just to see what would happen if she died.

But this was reality. At least, that’s what I believed.

Melody wouldn’t come back if she died. The same went for those I had killed, and the corpses that would now be rotting and being picked apart on the shore.

The lives they had carried and the paths they had walked would be swept away by the sea breeze.

The thought made me nauseous. I felt sick. I couldn’t close my eyes due to an inexplicable anxiety.

Of course, with my healthy body, I didn’t necessarily need to sleep.

But for some reason, I instinctively felt that I had to sleep.

I could sense that my mind wouldn’t be able to handle the strain.

I was wandering in this trap of needing to do something I couldn’t do when I heard a voice.

“Can’t sleep?”

I sighed.

“No.”

Only after saying it did I realize my mistake. Isla dislikes Melody.

I don’t know the exact reason, but she uses it as an excuse to tease me or to make me choose between her and Melody.

But Isla was someone who knew when and where to draw the line. I just heard a rustling sound.

“Is it bothering you?”

“…A little.”

“Want to touch it then?”

That wasn’t what was bothering me. The situation was too serious for me to be excited about sharing a bed with a woman, and I was already used to sleeping in the same bed as my sister.

It had been awkward when I was in middle school, but with my iron-clad principles and self-control, it was no longer a stimulating experience.

I shook my head.

“It’s fine. It’s not that I dislike your tail.”

“…It’s not my tail.”

I stiffened for a moment, but soon realized it was a joke and pretended not to hear. Then came another rustling sound.

When I turned my head, blue-gray eyes were shining in the darkness.

Isla was lying on her stomach, looking at me. Her eyes still seemed to hold shallow emotions.

“No one is watching.”

Taken literally, it would be a puzzling statement, but I had just begun to understand this woman called Isla.

“And no one is listening either.”

If we were going to discuss something, now was the perfect time. I continued to stare at the ceiling while lying on my back.

I could hear various noises in my ears. Low-level shapeshifters, beastkin, hired thugs, and murderers drinking on the first floor of the inn.

There were mercenaries, fallen adventurers, and mages too. They weren’t organized forces, but they weren’t low quality either. They were quite excellent.

Forces gathered to kill Melody.

More than 40 people had assembled to kill just one person.

Could they kill Melody with those numbers?

If this were a game, I would have answered that it depended on which side I was controlling, but now it was different.

They definitely could kill her. It was a composition that could rightfully be called a well-honed blade.

I held back a hollow laugh.

“Melody’s strength comes from her excellent reflexes, agility… and swordsmanship.”

It was almost a mutter to myself, but Isla perked up her ears with her face half-buried in the blanket.

“She’s good with magic too, and skilled at using basic curses and enhancements that come from her whistling, but the reason Melody is called the Golden Nightingale is actually because of her technique and speed.”

Being a bird beastkin, she had an innately light body and nimble movements.

Add to that her swordsmanship honed to the extreme and the bard magic activated by whistling and eloquence, and she was truly a formidable fighter.

She might not be on the level of a front-line companion like the ‘Blazing Bow’ who appeared in every installment of the series, but she was good enough to provide both damage and support when fighting bosses, and to protect the rear line during normal times.

The core of her build was none other than dexterity.

The stat that encompassed perception and reflexes. Melody increased her defense with dexterity, hit with attacks using dexterity, and increased her attack power with dexterity.

In other words, she becomes weak without her dexterity.

And if I were to face Melody as an enemy, I would have chosen the same method, which made the Three Clans’ plan seem effective.

“They’ll seal off that speed with magic, and drain her stamina and block her escape routes with mercenaries, shapeshifters, beastkin, and adventurers.”

That would leave Melody with no way out. She would use up her spells and skills trying to find a way to escape, depleting her energy.

And at the end of it all, the executioner would be waiting.

“Then he’ll come to finish her off.”

An unnamed shapeshifter. A middle-aged bear, as I had learned from my informant.

He would appear to finish off Melody, and the rest was predictable.

Her head would be displayed, her body eaten, and all her excellent magical items distributed.

Once Melody was gone, the rest was obvious.

Lucilla, known as the Guardian Knight, would become a one-armed warrior without her right hand, and the Empire’s means of resisting the Three Clans would gradually diminish until they gave up resistance altogether.

Then Grim Darker would truly become a gloomy and dark world.

Everything that had happened in this city was merely laying the groundwork for that.

I had heard it directly from the shapeshifter himself, so it was clear.

By killing all the informants and inquisitors sent for investigation.

By quietly eliminating all reinforcements sent from the Empire.

Eventually, Melody would come looking, and that’s what they were counting on.

It was a trap that couldn’t be avoided even if one knew about it. The Guardian Knight was tied up and couldn’t come, so her right hand was the only one who could move.

Even if they somehow learned of the intention and decided not to send Melody to save her, problems would arise.

The Three Clans could continue with their plans in the abandoned new continent. Without anyone’s interference.

And no one except the Three Clans knew what awaited at the end of it all.

Not even I, who knew Grim Darker so well.

Either way, it had to be stopped.

But could I do it? Could I subdue a force of 40 people, overpowering opponents stronger than myself?

It wasn’t realistic. It seemed like a matter of whether I would die or Melody would die.

No, actually.

Since there was no guarantee that my death would solve anything, it was more a question of whether both Melody and I would die, or just Melody.

A gloomy thought. Unlike me. As I let out a hollow laugh, Isla, who was lying on her stomach on the bed, stretched out her tail to tickle my cheek.

“What do you want to do?”

A muffled voice from under the blanket. I stared blankly at the ceiling at the sound of Isla’s voice.

It was a ceiling made of wood. The distinctive patterns of the wood were clearly visible.

I thought becoming a monster would make everything easier and simpler. But it wasn’t always the case.

Even as a monster, there were difficult things. Things that couldn’t be solved by sheer force.

When I fought the dark mage, I thought that with power, everything would go my way.

“Tell me.”

“…I just want to smash everything to pieces and be done with it.”

The time to deliberate, the mental energy—it all felt wasted. If I had my way, I would crush anything that stood in my path with transcendent power.

But I didn’t have that power. I wasn’t strong enough. That’s what made me conflicted.

No matter how much I thought about it, no answer came to mind, making it a meaningless conflict.

“Can’t you do it?”

Isla had leaned toward me. She had a subtle, pleasant scent.

With such a good body scent, how could she be a hunter? She’d be detected by her pleasant smell. As I pushed away that thought, Isla moved even closer, almost poking my cheek with the tip of her nose.

She was very close. Doesn’t she feel embarrassed? Her attitude was even more intimate than my sister’s, which made me feel both pleased and strange.

“I lack the strength.”

Power wasn’t readily given when needed, like in a boy’s manga.

There were beings like that in the world, but homunculi were creatures without charm or inspiration.

I couldn’t suddenly ignite flames on the battlefield to turn the tide, or manifest transcendent swordsmanship with sudden power to slaughter everyone.

Only humans were capable of such things. The transcendent ones acknowledged only the potential that humans possessed. Manufactured homunculi weren’t even considered.

“Then.”

As I was pondering what to do, Isla spoke.

“When another imperial ship comes, how about killing him then?”

When I turned my head, her tail swished and tickled my wrist. Her nose was still pressed against my cheek.

Her eyes were close. Very serious eyes.

“But that bastard is stronger than me…”

“On a ship, it’s hard to use full strength. Especially if you’re not used to ships. And if things go wrong, it’s not bad to escape.”

I’m a good swimmer. At Isla’s words, I momentarily imagined a swimming snow leopard before becoming conflicted.

It wasn’t a conflict that lasted long. That’s because…

“If it comes to it, I’ll die with you.”

Isla said such a thing in her usual calm voice.

It wasn’t particularly logical or persuasive, but it was a statement that momentarily stopped my thoughts.

It was extremely radical, but on the other hand, it was a joke that made me think.

After all, I’m a homunculus and won’t die unless my head is cut off.

So why not give it a try?

“Let’s do that.”

Isla moved slightly away. When I turned my head, she was holding up two fingers in a V-sign next to her cheek.

How cute.

“Thank you.”

Then came a rustling sound. Isla curled up under the blanket. I stared at the woman for a while before closing my eyes.

With the intention of finding the shapeshifter as soon as morning came.