We keep walking in the almost-frozen forest, the crunchy sounds of dried autumn leaves announce our presence to whomever it concerns. The air is almost cool enough to allow us to see our breath. And the girls are clinging to me. The proverbial flower on each hand.

"Hey Marcy, let go!" I have no romantic feelings for Marcy, but that rack is dangerous. At least it is covered in a pashmina kind of wide scarf. Helen's on the other side, have the perfect mix of firmness, softness, size and shape.

"Beowulf, you should learn to hide your expressions when you think lewd things!" says Marcy in a very teasing tone.

"Yeah! Where are you loo-looking at, Beowulf?"

I'm doomed to MC hell, ain't I? Better change the subject.

"Marcy, did you know those guys that attacked us this morning?"

"I didn't know them personally, but I've seen some of them in the Guild from time to time. It seems they are a kind of party that make long expeditions."

"They were creepy. Thugish." added Helen.

"Speaking of which, I haven't seen highway bandits in my travels. I know the fighting merchants are strong, but why there are no bandits in the roads? Also the escort requests for merchants in the guild are less than what I expected."

"Grendel surely has some strange terms... What is a 'bandit'?" Helen looks at me puzzled.

"A bandit is some criminal group that waits in the wilderness to attack unsuspecting merchants or travelers and rob them of their possessions."

"Is there something like that in your world?" Marcy asks.

"Not really, but in our stories. In some places they do attack on the roads, but most of the world is very peaceful."

"Wow, criminals that are strong enouth to survive on their own in the wilderness and on top of that successfully attack a merchant? Those guys would have to have strength equal to at least a D-rank adventurer..."

"Like those creepy eyed guys we defeated!"

The girls have a point. Bandits are bandits because they were pushed away from society, but if society is willing to accomodate even that kind of scum, they would not go for a high-risk endeavor like living outside a walled town.

"Look, I don't think people with the strength of a D-rank would just sit outside, when there are so many monsters and too few amenities. One can sleep better behind a town's walls, right?"

"You got a point. If they can get legit work that pays the same and benefit from the joy of living in a society, they wouldn't turn to crime."

"The risk is also too high. And repellent potions for a large group would eat away their profits. There is the one day rule we follow in the guild."

"One day? What kind of rule is that?"

"Marcy, let me explain! 'Never make your camp further away than one day of forced march from a town.' The strength of monsters grow too much after that."

"Just for reference, the syrup... death willow meadow, is it further than one day away from your hometown?"

"Yes. It is one day and half."

Thinking about that, in that distance I've found a C-rank crested naga, a C-rank orc prince, a D-rank graymantle and his retinue of hundred-something E-ranked monkeys. Not to speak of those slimes that are probably between E and B... And a bit down the road the orc king that is either a lower A or a higher B and a freaking dragon. That is a S rank without a doubt sir. The terror induced by its sheer presence and size coupled with the [Dragonbait] title...

"I understand. Things are really grim for humanity. But what about the roads. They are longer than one day of travel."

"But the roads are built with some ritual that infuses powdered monster cores into the path. It helps keep the miasma away. Even so, finding D rank monsters is common on the roads. This is why my big brother only got his apprentice merchant job now, after much training."

"I see, I see. Say, if your father was an adventurer, what would be his rank?"

"Top C. Dad is really strong!"

"And why does he peddles instead of hunting monsters?"

"It is less risky and there are tax benefits. The realm almost pays for him to peddle. My whole family doesn't pay the poll tax because of dad's job."

It is an interesting system. Without the merchants, the communities would be isolated, and the local specialties would not be shared. It would force everyone to produce and craft what they need, even in a unfavorable condition.

"Silence, please." Marcy hurriedly hushes us. "There are something coming."

I have to remember to keep [Presence Detection] turned on as a radar. There are three creatures incoming. Big ones. I take my shield and a goblin spear. Keep [Bodyguard] level 4 active too.

Bodyguard (D)

Allows to set one friendly creature as ward at level 1 and an additional ward at levels 4, 7, 10.

Greatly increase chance of detecting hostile intent against ward.

Can switch target of an attack from ward to oneself if ward is within 3 + feet.

Increase initiative and reaction time to block such attacks by a factor of .

As long as the girls remain 7 feet or less of me I can make almost all attacks target me.

"You two stay close to me. I'll tank for you, so feel free to shoot at will."

"Tank?"

"I'll block any attacks targeting you." Helen kicks my shin. "With the shield, not my forehead!"

"Incoming!"

Three skinny Owlbears that look desperate to find food before their hybernation appear from behind a cluster of trees. Marcy readies her bow, Helen starts to chant and I move to the vanguard. My urge is to toss this javelin to thin their numbers but I want to train teamwork instead of a fast and clean victory.

The three critters dash on all fours to attack us. Marcy shoots at the left one but it keeps running with an arrow stuck to the shoulder. A firebolt blasts the face of the rightmost owlbear and it flinches, losing momentum.

"Marcy to the right behind Helen. Single line!" I have two owlbears to intercept. I feel like something is hammering me down into the dirt when the bears' mauling swings hit the round shield. The knowledge of how to block with the shield flows into me from the Akashic Records, courtesy of the [Shield Master] skill. It also increases the resilience of the equipment.

I unleash a series of quick stabs at the two bears with the goblin shortspear. The tip begins to whistle as it cuts the air between strokes. There is a delay as if the sound comes from behind the spear. These bears are bleeding, but those are shallow wounds.

The bear with the burned head recovers, and it looks angry and disoriented. Its eyes were burned by the firebolt but it can follow the sounds and is slowly approaching.

Only to take another firebolt on its back. The owlbear panics and turns to run away. The other two are trying to turn my shield to scrap. My arm feels numb already.

Skill Shield Master level 2 acquired. Skill Combat Awareness level 4 acquired.

I ignore the pain and deliver another flurry of spear jabs to the bears. The spear keeps whistling. I don't need to look behind me to feel where the two girls are. They keep circling behind me to keep the bears from going at them. An arrow finds home in the eye of one owlbear and it steps backward in pain. One left.

Moving the spear this fast feels oddly natural to me. It is like I've trained years for these fluid motions. If I can focus magic on the spear, this...

"[Whistling Double]!"

The spear technique I've learned from the [Singing Spear Style] crystal activates, and a faint blue streak of light can be seen trailing besides the tip of my spear. It threatens to fade and disappear if I slow down. The blue streak cuts as I cut, stabs as I stab. The faster the blow, the stronger the double.

The last owlbear's movements slow down as its wounds become unberable. It stumbles, and Marcy ends its misery with an arrow to the brain.

I'm tired. But at least this time no one on our side is bleeding.

Beowulf has leveled up. 2 skill point earned.

Another villager level. But 2 skill points? Must be some rounding from the title.

We end up making camp, because dismantling these bears will take quite some time. Their white-gray fur was too damaged, Marcy wants the feathers for fletching, the beaks can be carved into tools. The meat is too stringy and they were almost skin-and-bones anyway. Probably other stronger owlbears pushed these guys out of the hunting grounds. Maybe Grendel can eat this meat. I'll find out soon enough.

The girls set out to gather materials for camp while I am preparing the furs for tanning. Too bad none of the owlbears have a intact head, or we could make some bear fur carpets. But I can make some nice winter clothes with these furs.

They return and we make a campfire while the orange rays of the sun dye the sky with the colors of late afternoon. While they are making some soup, I check my status.

And now I am a level 30 villager. I have been wondering for some time, but I think the single-path people use to level up jobs, switching as early as possible into an advanced job is not the most efficient way. Advanced jobs apparently require a higher amount of experience points; point-in-case, I leveled into a villager level 30 before Helen could become a level 14 magician. Let me ask her.

"Helen, are you close to leveling up?"

"I almost did! How did you know?"

"It is because i got yet another villager level, and we both gained 3 job levels fighting the thugs."

It means that the exp tables for villager 26 ~ 30 and magician 10 ~ 14 are almost the same. I think there is a magic number where one can get the most stats and skills from a job. Just like delaying the upshift on a racing car may give you more potency on the acceleration. But for the villager, it is a lost case. One should jump out before 20th level.

Helen stops for a while, and concentrates on something. "I'm feeling Emory's pups. We are very close now!! But that snake lady is too scary! She is hissing at the pups."

While popular knowledge tells us that snakes like to eat rats, I doubt Shraaizar would attempt something on such a precious cargo. If the rats are raising a ruckus because they too can sense Helen's proximity, maybe she is just telling them to shut up. Hum...

"Helen, can you understand monster language?"

"What?" She is surprised. "Monster language?"

"Yes. Monster language. We monsters can talk to each other. Well, at least the more intelligent ones. Even the monkeys they can communicate somewhat. But I've talked to orc, minotaur and to Shraaizar normally."

I'll try something. "Helen, can I have Emory for a while? I won't hurt him."

"Sure. I trust you, Beowulf. Emory, be a good rat and go with Beowulf."

I pick up the oversized rat from Helen. It weighs almost 10 lb and is the size of a medium dog. It is not an animal anymore. I can sense a faint monstrous aura from it. Emory squeaks at me. It is not scared.

"I'll try talking to him now. Helen, please focus on Emory and try to figure out what I will say." Helen nods and I address Emory in monster language: "Hey, pipsqueak, want some meat?"

"Squeee!" A happy squeak.

"Grendel will smash puny rat!" I try to hide my intentions making a friendly face and voice.

"Quiiik!!" It cowers.

The girls are looking at me with a puzzled look. I am grunting, roaring and growling to a rat.

I put Emory in the ground. One more test. "Run around Marcy two times, roll over and stop with your belly facing up!" I avoid making any body language or sign.

The rat familiar is puzzled, but then runs around Marcy's legs, and then tumbles twice on the dirt before coming to a halt on its back. I take a piece of dried meat from my pocket, and offer to him.

"Good boy! Come eat something." I tell the rat to pick his treat in human language before addressing Helen. "Helen, did you understand anything of what I said to Emory?"

"Nothing. You were just growling until right now. Hey! Quit it!" The other rats got envious of Emory, and raised a racket to get some meat too.

"And what conclusion did you reach, Beowulf?" Marcy joins the talk while I give more dried meat to the rats.

"These rats are not ordinary rats anymore. Emory should be around lower G-rank, and these little fellas H-rank. But they understand monster speech. Emory executed my commands faithfully."

"I didn't know. These children don't react to the repellent potion we use when we camp out."

"Helen can make some awesome and scary things, right?" Marcy boasts pridefully." You should've seen the huge tree she animated."

"I did. It is sitting outside Mirfield and being worshipped by the locals as some kind of guardian. Even though it is just a normal tree now. I can tell if something is a monster or not."

Helen is anxious. "What will happen tomorrow? Will we be fine meeting your monster friends, Gre... Beowulf?"

I pat her head. "It will be fine. Like I would let any monster or person hurt my precious Helen." Sweetness level: cotton candy.

"I am right here, you know? Don't drift into your sweet couple bubble and leave me here." Marcy pouts, and we three break into laughter. I think she can't accept the fact her little friend got a boyfriend before her.

Then a sudden jolt shakes my very being. Something inside me doesn't feel right. It is like some heat wave welling from inside and pushing outward into my limbs. I stand up.

"Girls, I am sorry, but I have to go... over there take care of some business. I'd love if you stay here." I take my rucksack and hurriedly leave the camp behind.

The timer on my transformation skill is almost out. I can't just turn into Grendel in front of the girls. Not only the sight is gruesome: on top of that I have to transform naked or my clothes will be ruined.

I walk for some 10 minutes, while the heat waves get more and more close to. Now I know what Dr. Jekyll or Dr. Bruce Flags felt when it was their time to monster up. I hurriedly take out my other set of clothes from the bag, strip naked and stash the human clothes in the bag.

After everything is ready, I cancel the [Humanization] skill effects forcefully. It seems something was done to this skill, as it was a kind of toggleable skill originally. My skin blisters and breaks, and the flesh below swells and hardens. My bones creak and stretch. It is not painful, but as if it was a dentist procedure, even if I can't feel the pain I can sense the movements and impacts.

The weigth comes before the muscles and bones completely realigned them, forcing me to the ground. My forehead cracks and the two spiral horns come out. Breathing becomes hard as the growing muscles press down on the still human ribcage. The tip of the fingers burst and the long claws come out.

Five minutes later, the friendly neighborhood troll is back in action. Naked. Some skin flakes fell here and there, but I am thankful there is no sticky goo involved, like in some movies. I give my various body parts some quick check, and don my clothes.

With the rucksack strapped to one shoulder, I make my way back to camp. When the light of the campfire is visible in sight, I stop. I can see the girls chatting around the fire. This is too much similar to our first encounter. And I haven't told them that I was going to change back, have I? Dumb move.

I think of a plan to get here without scaring them. I hide below an elevation of the terrain, and call my buddy. "Emory, come here dude!" I growl in a low voice.

Emory runs to my side. I pick him up, wondering why he is not scared. Could it be he recognized me? I lift the rat to match my eyes. And in that moment I could swear the rat smiled. It reaches its paws forward until it can tap my nose. Then it grabs my nose and brushes its snout against it.

"Hey, Grendel, come to the camp already!" Helen shouts at me. "Marcy won't run away this time."

"But Helen might soil her underwear again!!" Marcy returns the teasing tenfold. You might have gone too far now.

Emory runs back before me, and I remember Helen can share the senses with her familiars. Well, fine. So long nobody runs away and no underwear is destroyed in the process, I think it is a good outcome. I walk back to camp.

Reaching camp, I am struck once again with the size difference between my forms. Beowulf is of the same height as Marcy (but I am still growing up!!!), but right now they look to me like preschool children. And everything else looks shrunk. Of course it is my height that has almost doubled. And I won't fit my bedroll anymore.

I walk slowly to the camp. Marcy is shaken. I think the trauma of that summer is still there in the corner of her mind. I stop and wave a couple meters from the campsite.

"Welcome back, Grendel. Why did you change without telling us?" Helen gives me a disappointed look.

"I messed up the time because the skill leveled up. I'm sorry." Trust is the most important piece in this delicate relationship.

I move to my side of the campfire, and lie down on my side, facing the fire.

"It is fine. Can I sleep next to you?" I nod to Helen, and she comes next to me with her bedroll.

Marcy takes a couple of flasks from her bag.

"Marcy, is that a repellent potion?"

"Yes, we are going to sleep, so monsters may come at night and..." When she looks at me, I am pointing at myself. "Oh, right."

"These things stink like... I can't even describe. If you insist on setting that potion, I will have to go away from you two. And I doubt there is some monster around here that is brave enough to face me." I turn on my [Intimidating Presence] for a while. Even being considered allies because of the party system, even excluding them from the skill effects, the two girls get shaken.

"Oh... I see. I guess it can't be helped." Marcy puts the vials away. "Make room there, Helen. I am sleeping next to the big one too." Hey!

There was nothing we could say to stop Marcy from also setting her bedroll between the campfire and me. A flower on each side, is it what they say? One of them is too thorny though.

"Grendel, could you continue that story on how you robbed the King?" As if I could refuse a request from Helen.

"I guess I can."

"Ho ho. Some criminal band we have here, right? The Monster Bride that destroyed the garrison, the Guild Deserter that was accomplice to said escape, and the monster that robbed the King."

I can't even retort. She is right. We are criminals. To this world, we are the villains. Heretics that dared puncture the boundary between man and monster. I even have a couple criminal titles to boast.

"Ok, I'll start then." They straighten their backs and make themselves comfortable. Leaning on me.

"Go on."

"After receiving his rewards and leaving the palace, Hero Beowulf..."

Current Seal Strength: 36%

Current Soul Vessel Durability: 61%