Ch.81Cannibalism (2)

After hearing about the whereabouts of the Frost Tracker, there wasn’t much else to do.

And for good reason.

“As for the blue mineral, I’ll procure it myself. I happen to have some in stock already, and the local thugs are at my disposal.”

Since the alchemist already had some quantity and offered to handle it herself.

I couldn’t exactly insist, “No! I’ll do it myself!” in that situation.

I agreed and, after obtaining the blue mineral she had, returned to the Pantheon.

Then, in what I thought would be the place to most quickly confirm any changes—the “Teleport Room”—I held the mineral in my hand.

[You have acquired the Blue Mineral!]

[The Blue Mineral was used by the master of the Pantheon, dating back to when beings called ‘gods’ still existed, and was used to create the entire world.]

[With the power of creation imbued within it, you can now freely use the teleportation device of the Pantheon ‘Nest’ and install new beacons.]

Then, a certain flow entered my mind.

Unconsciously following that flow, I guided the energy circulating within my body, and naturally, the mineral began to glow and took the form of a dark blue disc.

It was a beacon. A device that determines the destination and departure point for teleportation.

And the power to create it was none other than the power of life and death drawn out to use Mortality.

So this is why even the Three Clans lost this technology. It was a fresh realization.

[You notice new coordinates have appeared in the transmission room. The text above the coordinates flashes in unfamiliar letters, but something within you indicates it is a hideout.]

Perhaps because this was a tutorial-like event, the status window—which was already quite helpful—was now spoon-feeding me information, trying to teach me something.

And I was the type to avoid things when someone actively tried to pull me in.

I’ll check it out later. I deliberately ignored the status window and left the transmission room after setting up the disc on the wall.

Climbing the stairs, and climbing more, a warm breeze blew.

It was a spring breeze that felt natural yet somehow artificial, coming from a garden full of flowers.

Judging from the explanation shown when I held the blue mineral, perhaps they forcibly and permanently made it spring through the power of creation?

The air in the central garden had that “ideally warm spring day” feeling to that extent.

There’s a limit to such waste.

“Ah.”

A sharp voice cut through my thoughts.

I flinched, belatedly realizing that the voice itself was actually quite gentle.

The memories that came with hearing that voice—it was my own concerns that made the voice seem sharp.

I deliberately swallowed a deep breath and turned my head.

“Helloooo.”

A tall woman waving her hand with a broad smile.

Considering the medieval level of nutrition for the general population, she was exceptionally tall.

Was it because she retained her original body? Looking at my sister’s unchanged form caused me some distress.

I thought I wouldn’t have to feel troubled looking at my sister’s body since middle school.

“What’s wrong? Are you sick?”

“No, it’s nothing. Just… a bit tired.”

“Oh!”

My sister covered her mouth in surprise. Commonly known as Lucilla, she approached me with quick steps.

She wore a black shirt that faintly shimmered with purple light, along with something like a corset.

Or was it a belt?

Either way, I could tell it was an unusual item.

With black leather gloves on, my sister gave an overall impression of darkness, except for her skin.

“Come to think of it, you said you were going to counter the subjugation. Do I need to help?”

“I’m already on my way back. Just…”

“Hmm?”

“I’m mentally tired, that’s all.”

As I spoke, I observed my sister’s appearance.

She had a sword at her waist.

Does she use a sword? Is she a swordsman? Or a sword master?

While analyzing my sister’s build, I said:

“Lady Lucilla…”

“There you go again! I told you to call me comfortably.”

My sister put her hands on her waist, pretending to be upset.

It was something Lorian would normally do, but it felt different when my sister did it.

Probably because of the different curves.

“Hello?”

As I was lost in thought, my sister woke me up. I hesitated before the gray eyes looking at me, then opened my mouth.

“Then, sis—”

“Yes?”

“Where has my lady been going?”

This was the best I could do.

My sister seemed quite disappointed, but it couldn’t be helped.

Since I feared the moment she would discover I was her brother, I was careful about even the smallest triggers to avoid being found out.

In such circumstances, calling her “sister” and speaking informally would create too many opportunities for mistakes.

I thought “my lady” with formal speech would be fine, but…

“…I suppose one shouldn’t treat a person as a substitute for another.”

My sister muttered, thinking I wouldn’t understand.

Thanks to superhuman patience, I barely managed not to flinch at those words.

It was obvious who she was trying to substitute for whom.

Was my sister looking for me too?

A faint hope began to shine, but after briefly contemplating it, I covered it up myself.

Don’t get your hopes up.

Not getting my hopes up is something I’m good at, so it’s not difficult.

I couldn’t deny that it was simply habitual longing for family that had been gone for a long time.

I feigned a puzzled expression as best I could.

“It’s nothing. Anyway, was there something you wanted to ask?”

My sister shook her head and asked me. I nodded.

“I was wondering what business you had, given your attire.”

“Just doing some reconnaissance around the area and various other things. My bones were aching.”

Then she let out an “Ah!” sound and covered her mouth.

“Sorry, I’m not blaming you…”

“It’s fine. I don’t mind.”

“Really? You’re so kind. Thank you.”

My sister sighed in relief. It was painful that even these aspects remained the same.

“In exchange, I learned many interesting things. Want to hear?”

She chuckled and her eyes sparkled. I nodded, intending to go along with her.

“But it’s no fun to just listen… Shall I train you a bit?”

My sister’s eyes sparkled even more intensely. Well, she did love exercise.

Wasn’t she the type to wake up at dawn, prepare breakfast, and go jogging? I smiled awkwardly.

“For the Guardian Knight to train me… I’m honored.”

“Where did a homunculus like you learn to speak like that? Follow me.”

My sister took me down two floors.

And on those two floors below was a spacious area that was essentially an open field.

In terms of size, it was similar to the transmission room two floors below, but it was thoroughly empty, making it suitable for training.

There, my sister stood before me.

“Well… let’s see…”

My sister exaggeratedly lowered her head, held her chin, narrowed her eyes, and stared at me intently.

“Sword and axe. Which one are you better at?”

Among these, her gaze lingered longer on my waist—where Star Blade and Screamer were located.

I glanced down at those two weapons briefly, then raised my fist.

“I’m better at punching.”

“Hand-to-hand combat? That’s unusual. But I’m not saying it’s bad, so don’t misunderstand. It’s rather unique and good. Homunculi have sturdy bodies too.”

My sister assessed my build with a gamer’s perspective.

“Class… hmm, no. What can you do?”

Does she not even intend to hide it? Well, it would be hard to notice anyway.

So I answered according to my sister’s level of understanding.

“I think this is what you’re asking about… I’m a Mourner.”

“A Mourner?”

My sister’s eyes widened in surprise. She soon seemed to understand and nodded.

The Mourner being boring is only because it’s a game, but if it became reality, the performance of a Mourner would be considerable.

The risks that didn’t activate in the game have come alive in reality, but as a homunculus, I wouldn’t be concerned about them.

She’s probably thinking along those lines.

“Then fists are a good choice. Is there a reason?”

“It just turned out this way.”

I’ve never even been to a Taekwondo gym, let alone boxing.

I’ve read many comics but wasn’t deeply into them.

In games, I used whatever weapons I could find in the early to mid-game, and since end-game weapons were all random drops, I used whatever came up in the late game.

If I had to pick what I used most often… was it the lance?

I wonder if that’s still around? Someone probably picked it up.

While I was thinking, my sister was right in my face.

“Why are you surprised? Well then, raise your fists! I’ll take a look.”

“…Yes, my lady.”

I raised my fists, and my sister spread her hands wide, holding them out awkwardly.

And then.

When my sister’s normally gentle eyes sharpened, I felt some kind of invisible pressure weighing down on my body.

The kind of pressure you’d feel when facing an enormous being. Even as a homunculus who didn’t need to breathe, I momentarily felt suffocated.

A sensation of my soul being crushed. It was an intense and overwhelming warrior’s prowess.

I faced my sister while feeling this.

“Swing at me.”

Her voice had become strangely cold. It befitted a Possessed who had overcome Grim Darker 1 with a human body and completed 2 and 3 as well.

So without hesitation, I firmly planted my feet on the ground and took a step forward.

I channeled power from my waist into my arm and extended it.

The knack for punching granted by proficiency and talent.

The sound of my fist cutting through the air felt good.

I had the feeling that any human hit by this would not remain unscathed.

Naturally, I worried it might be dangerous for my sister too.

But that wasn’t the case.

My fist didn’t even reach her.

My sister placed her left hand on my extended fist, gently pushed it while stepping forward, and…

“Yes, yes. Solid, manly arms. Your fist is straight too. Imperial style.”

She tucked it under her side, wrapped it with her right arm, and stopped.

Somehow, I couldn’t pull my arm free.

Instead, my sister even pressed my arm with her right and left hands.

It was at a level where feeling the touch of something that shouldn’t be touched wouldn’t be strange, but fortunately, the vambrace on my hand prevented that.

I felt relieved.

“Did Melody teach you?”

“No, that’s…”

I couldn’t say I learned it through talent. I tried to think of a suitable excuse and said:

Sorry, Cannibal Baron.

“I learned from someone who called himself the Cannibal Baron. I received it as an advance payment when I was first captured, but I didn’t like what he was planning afterward…”

“…Ah, the Cannibal Baron.”

My sister seemed to understand the overall situation. She nodded and released my arm.

“Well then, continue. I’ll teach you if there’s anything to teach. I’ll talk as we go.”

The ensuing training session—I’m not sure if it could be called training.

These were skills obtained through proficiency and honed through talent. Whatever advice my sister gave probably wouldn’t be very helpful.

But from what I recently learned…

I quite enjoyed fighting.

Whether this was some kind of action where my mind was being consumed by a monster’s body, or my true nature, I wasn’t sure.

So I swung my fists at my sister, my opponent, without hesitation.

There was also a rational judgment.

The rational judgment that my sister would absolutely not get hurt.

And my prediction was correct.

My fists were already something completely different from when I first swung them.

Even then, they were already something that could easily crush a person’s head, but now the firepower itself was different.

Yet they were precise and fast.

But.

Thump!

All my extended fists were blocked.

Not right after I extended them, nor right before they hit.

It didn’t feel like she was deflecting them either. It felt like she was subduing them at the end.

I strongly felt that she was vastly superior to me.

And what I realized was that in terms of physical abilities, I had the advantage over my sister.

Even though the difference was only about one level, my sister easily suppressed it.

Normally, even a one-level weight class difference can’t be easily suppressed.

Yet my sister completely received all my attacks.

How?

My anguish was soon answered by someone else.

“It’s technique.”

A familiar voice. My fist, about to extend, stopped abruptly, and my sister opened her eyes wide and turned her head.

“My sister is better than me at everything except swordsmanship. But still…”

The girl spoke with a somewhat sulky tone.

More precisely, a woman of indeterminate age in the form of a girl.

The golden nightingale, Melody.

I blinked blankly as I looked at her.

I hadn’t even heard about the “interesting things” my sister had learned.

With a slight disappointment, I was about to return to my stance and greet Melody when…

Melody passed by my sister, approached me, and hugged my arm.

The touch was barely there. Unlike with my sister.

But how should I put it—a soft scent that stimulated some kind of desire deep in my stomach wafted through.

A scent that was somehow rich yet soft, and somehow continuously sweet.

Something similar to but different from the scent of flowers.

Melody stood close to me with that scent and leaned on me. Her weight felt light.

“Since he’s my disciple, if you want to teach him, ask for my permission first.”

A cold attitude that momentarily made me forget Melody’s usual claim that she and my sister got along well.

When I looked at Melody, she met my eyes and then hugged my arm tightly.

Since she was weak, even though she hugged tightly, the sensation was only soft.

“Even if you’re my sister, I can’t give him up.”

I was amazed at her next words.

Wow, what level of educational enthusiasm is this?

More importantly, what about my opinion?

I stood there blankly, feeling like a son caught between a stepmother and birth mother.

So this is what it feels like for those with parents, I thought.