Ch.83Cannibalism (4)

Mother.

A name I’d never heard before. I hadn’t even heard of such an entity existing in the game Grim Darker.

I’d heard of Father, but that was only because he was connected to the Three Clans.

Come to think of it, it made sense.

If there’s a Father, there should be a Mother too.

Although that gender-reversal effect ring I saw before claimed that Father was completely alone.

But that might not actually be true. Flavor text is just a means to add flavor, not necessarily the truth.

Not everyone is like me and my sister, without either a father or mother.

So I asked the knowledgeable person right next to me.

“Could you tell me about Mother?”

Melody, who had been watching my expression with a worried look.

She seemed startled by my question.

After hesitating briefly and appearing to contemplate, she lowered her eyes slightly.

Does she know something?

As I harbored a vague expectation, she opened her mouth.

“Mother… was someone who became a Duelist Scholar with the sponsorship of the Dueling School.”

And I realized from the beginning that something was wrong.

Ah, I didn’t ask properly.

But at this point, I couldn’t interrupt by saying that wasn’t what I meant.

Because Melody immediately adopted an unusually gloomy expression.

The words that followed weren’t something I could interrupt by saying that wasn’t what I meant.

“She was a beastkin. ‘Sponsorship’ is a nice way of putting it—in reality, she was captured.”

“…From where?”

“From the South.”

The South.

A pronominalized expression.

If the North generally referred to tribal societies that were rough, aggressive, and antagonistic toward the Empire…

The South was pro-imperial but had its own culture and was granted autonomy.

Typically, it was home to elves, avian beastkin, and rarely, dragonkin.

The further south, the smaller the factions. In the case of dragonkin, they were so few they could hardly be called a faction.

The region ranged from hot and humid places to hot and dry ones, but the common denominator was that most were barren lands.

And unlike the Empire, where most citizens were of similar status, or the North, where everyone was “family” and shared property, the South had severe wealth inequality.

The elves with their relatively fertile lands and the dragonkin with their few arable plots were wealthy, while the avian beastkin who made up most of the population were poor.

I couldn’t be unaware of this situation. Half of the assassins dispatched during Homunculus gameplay were avians.

Melody was saying her mother was one of them. It was a story I’d heard before.

It was a story that came up during companion quests too.

“Poor, vulnerable, but full of potential… they wanted to use her as breeding stock.”

Breeding stock. Not a term that should be used for people. When I made a displeased expression, Melody smiled.

“You don’t need to make that face. It’s all in the past.”

“No, still…”

“I said it’s fine. You didn’t know when you asked.”

I still couldn’t tell her that wasn’t what I’d asked about. I sat on a stump beside the stone path leading up to the Pantheon and listened to her story.

“Well, as you can see from the fact that I’m here, the breeding program was successful.”

The Dueling School was, so to speak, a falling star.

Players could choose it as a class, but it was a profession difficult to enjoy without considerable stats.

You needed high dexterity to handle a sword well.

High health was also good. Since you had to face enemies with a sword at the front line, efficiency dropped if health fell below 10.

But you also needed magic power to handle spells, and charisma was necessary too.

If you gave up on spamming magic and insisted on using it judiciously, you could focus on raising charisma, but then there would be little reason to choose the Dueling School.

For these reasons, Duelist Scholar was an ambiguous profession. It wasn’t even good for roleplaying.

As mentioned, the Dueling School was a falling star. No one pays respect to a falling star, and the Dueling School itself was corrupt.

There wasn’t much fun in roleplaying as someone from such a place.

Melody was treated as the only hope of the Dueling School.

From my memory, it couldn’t be otherwise.

Melody had the highest total stats in the entire series.

Strength 8, Dexterity 20, Health 12, Magic Power 18, Inspiration 10, Charisma 20.

A versatile character who handled defense and melee attacks with high dexterity, and cast spells with magic power comparable to dedicated spellcasters and high charisma.

She was an overpowered character that couldn’t be created without cheating the stats.

Usually, there would be users who express dissatisfaction, knowingly or unknowingly, but Melody faced relatively little backlash.

Perhaps few people could do so after hearing her past.

“What kind of person was she?”

“A poor Southern beastkin… I’d like to say that, but it wasn’t entirely true.”

Melody spoke with composure. Whether because it was already in the past, or because everything had been resolved, I wasn’t sure.

“They said she was from a minority tribe with good bloodlines.”

Though now simply lumped together as a sparrow beastkin, Melody’s birth was special due to her mother’s bloodline, which made her suitable as “breeding stock.”

Thanks to that, she was born with high charisma.

And charisma didn’t simply mean being pretty or handsome.

The power of bloodline, talent, the quality or size of a soul that transcendents are easily drawn to—these were all charisma.

Among them, Melody’s charisma was the power of bloodline and the power of melody that magic was easily drawn to.

So Melody, who had high charisma from birth, was practically born with magic and melody flowing through her body instead of blood.

The anecdote that her first cry upon birth became magic was famous.

“After that… well, my mother had a hard time even holding her daughter. She was used like a tool as a Duelist Scholar, watching her daughter train hard from a distance…”

Her swinging legs stopped. Since I knew well what had happened to Melody, I knew what she wanted to say.

“She passed away when I was 12.”

“How…”

“It was when I entered the ‘magic training’ period, so none of the elders told me, but it was obvious. She couldn’t bear to watch her daughter practice magic until her throat bled.”

The elders of the Dueling School were all Duelist Scholars.

All had gone through the same process as Melody, survived countless real battles, and lived.

Among them were races that could live beyond human lifespans, and those who extended their lives through twisted means.

It wasn’t a number that just one mother could overcome.

Maternal love could perform small miracles, but it wasn’t a miracle that could make the impossible possible.

That’s how Melody’s mother died.

By the time my thoughts reached this conclusion, Melody’s eyes were staring into space.

What followed was predictable.

The girl became an adventurer. She completed her inadequate training and sought revenge for her mother.

And after six years of adventuring alone, she met my sister, who would later become the Guardian Knight, and succeeded in her revenge.

But I couldn’t simply summarize what happened in between as predictable or already known.

At least, I couldn’t.

No matter how much this world resembled the game world, no matter how fantastical this world might feel.

I had decided to live my best in this world.

I wanted to remain myself, to live without regrets.

So I listened to her story attentively and reflected.

It was certainly different from the game.

Unlike the scene where Melody’s portrait appeared and dialogue scrolled by, this was different.

Her subtle changes in expression were clearly visible—her face clouding whenever she mentioned her mother.

Though she tried to appear calm, it wasn’t as easy as usual; her voice trembled occasionally, and words sometimes flowed out like sighs.

“I killed all the elders with my own hands. There was even a dragonkin among them, but I dealt with him easily thanks to the sword your sister gave me.”

The estoc she slightly drew was a famous sword called Scale Splitter.

Its effects were indestructible, additional damage against dragonkin, additional penetration, and additional accuracy.

Considering my sister was a veteran Grim Darker player, she must have given it intentionally.

Melody resheathed the sword as if wondering when she had drawn it and forced a smile.

“I’m sorry. I know this isn’t what you asked about, but it would be awkward to turn back now that I’ve started, and more importantly, I couldn’t stop once I began talking.”

Some say revenge is unnecessary and meaningless.

I don’t think so. But that doesn’t mean revenge is a panacea either.

Revenge may be necessary, but it doesn’t solve everything. Wounds remain and become scars.

I felt the same way. So I could understand why she spoke despite knowing I wasn’t asking about her.

What was surprising was that she had noticed. Am I bad at lying?

“You kind of are. It shows all over your face.”

Melody covered her mouth, giggling.

I scratched my head awkwardly, and Melody put away her playful smile and gave a sincere one.

“Still, thank you for listening so well. When you listen with such an empathetic, sad expression, I couldn’t stop myself.”

It was equally sincere gratitude. I felt awkward. I wasn’t used to being praised by anyone other than my sister, so it was a bit embarrassing.

“Melody tells stories so well that I couldn’t stop listening. Your voice is nice too.”

“…Really, someone who understands women’s hearts so well acted like that earlier?”

Melody’s cheeks flushed slightly at the compliment, but then she suddenly pouted.

“Pardon?”

“Nothing. It’s nothing. Really.”

But she still seemed pleased. Melody hopped off the stump and said:

“So, what did you mean by asking me to investigate ‘Mother’? It would be good to have more information.”

Information. I hesitated briefly, then looked at what was still visible in the corner of my vision.

[(Llewellyn exclusive) When activating Recurring Commemoration, you can offer tributes to Mother through predation and killing.]

Predation and killing.

Recurring Commemoration.

Come to think of it, there were many strange points.

Recurring Commemoration was clearly a Mourner skill where ‘Father’ bestows power, but this skill alone seemed to taint the user with frenzy.

No, that wasn’t all.

Since becoming a Mourner and beginning to wander this land, the dark impulses that assailed me and the frenzy I experienced while facing the hunting party composed of Isla’s kin.

All of it was unfamiliar. Something I had never seen or heard of in the game.

What if it was all because of ‘Mother’?

After pondering, I opened my mouth.

“It seems to be some kind of entity… close to a transcendent.”

“A transcendent? The investigation shouldn’t be difficult then. And?”

“It seems to… bestow frenzy upon its targets.”

“Seems to? Not does? You’re not certain?”

“Well… yes, that’s right.”

Melody made a humming sound and tilted her head.

“Okay. Anything else?”

“…I think it might gain favor through offerings made via predation or killing.”

“Predation or killing…? So…”

“Cannibalism, I suppose.”

“Ah, ha…”

Melody’s expression soured. She thought for a moment, then nodded with a sigh.

“I’ll look into it.”

Don’t expect too much, Melody added briefly before withdrawing.

*

[Play time: 9,492 hours]

After defeating the hunting party and receiving assurance from Ortemilia that she would obtain more blue minerals.

As I was contemplating whether to explore the next teleport point that had opened up while obtaining blue minerals, Melody came looking for me.

Since it hadn’t even been a day since I asked her to investigate, I thought she might have other business.

“I found it.”

Melody said that abruptly.

I couldn’t immediately understand what she meant.

“Found what…?”

“The investigation you entrusted to me. About ‘Mother.'”

Mother. I flinched at the mention of the story I had left with her, and Melody approached and spread something on the table.

On the wooden table carved by the Mourner himself, various types of parchment manuscripts were laid out.

“I thought the investigation would be difficult, but it was found in more places than I expected.”

I widened my eyes as I looked at the translations displayed in the status window over the spread parchments.

“This is…”

“Familiar, right?”

They were indeed familiar, as Melody said.

More precisely, the “symptoms” described in those parchments were familiar.

The parchments mainly contained war histories, adventurers’ stories, and oral traditions, and throughout these stories, similar descriptions appeared consistently.

A warrior who dismembers enemies while displaying frenzy.

A strangely twisted monster that grew stronger by eating its own kind.

The story of a hunter who saw the illusion of a hungry beast in a snowstorm, devoured his brother to gain strength and glory.

Melody’s small, delicate hand stopped at one particular section.

It was a traveler’s account about a tribe that worshipped the ‘Hungry Beast.’

“And this tribe. They appear to be a Northern minority, and there’s a passage saying that when they catch prey, they set aside a portion for the Hungry Beast and scatter it in nature.”

It was exactly as she said. Even the part where the adventurer asked about the ‘Hungry Beast’ and received an answer was similar to what was written in the oral tradition.

An entity that calls forth frenzy and bestows power.

Something that may or may not be a transcendent.

Is this the identity of Mother? What connection does this entity have with Father?

Perhaps…

“It’s the Frost Tracker tribe.”

At that moment, I froze at the familiar voice, and came to my senses as a tail tickled my face and wrapped around my arm.

When I turned my head, I saw a familiar face.

A woman standing close beside me with an expressionless face. Her ears perked up, and her blue-gray eyes fixed intently on me.

Isla.

Such a woman testified.

“The ‘Hungry Beast’ was an entity worshipped by my tribe.”