《Reborn as a Magic Firefly, Help?》Chapter Thirty-five: So the returner we let join out of pity brought home a horrific monster

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Good Goddess in heaven above, I am tired. Whose fucking idea was it to let the newbie returner decide what quest to pick? Absolute bollocks, D- my ass.

If there was a monster, even if it was just an E-ranked one, if we appeared in this condition, it would have beaten us raw. This is stupid. I can barely even move, and I'm the second highest-levelled among us! Running a whole damn night... not a thing I ever want to experience again.

I say that, but with how kind these villagers are, I almost don't regret coming all the way out here. Apparently, one of the local hunters got a hold of a couple of deer, so they have a bit of an abundance that they're sharing with us. Since our dear returner fucked up the quest, it's only right that we get some sort of reward for coming out here.

...This stew really isn't bad.

As I sit there, graciously thanking the villagers and sipping stew from a hand-carved wooden bowl, I feel a tremor. Not of the physical kind, more of a... movement in power. Something terrible is coming. Only two of my comrades have noticed, the captain and the magician. We exchange glances, but we can't be sure. If it's something bad, I'm not sure if we could escape. Right now, we can only clutch our weapons close and try to gain as much energy from the stew as possible.

A tree falls in the woods. With this, everybody has noticed the thing happening. Something in the woods. Moving slowly, shaking the earth as it goes. Another tree falls, and we see just a glimpse of it. A head. Long ears, like that of a faerie. Equally long, insect-like antennae. His face is locked in a neutral, uncaring state, with his short, gravelly brown hair bouncing with each step.

Worst of all, he is staring straight at us. At the houses, at the villagers, at us. Pierre, the youngest of us, just seems confused. He makes to stand, but I put a hand on his shoulder. Standing up won't help you, and neither will fighting. Only one kind of creature has those kinds of traits. Pixies. Faeries. Little folks. If he opened his mouth, I was sure I'd find rows of sharp teeth in there, like a cookie-cutter shark.

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At least, I believe it must be a faerie, but with that size... The head only seems to be the size of a normal human, but I dread what I cannot see. Even just a normal faerie is classified as a D+ creature, but at that size... I cannot tell.

Our party is, all members counter, rank D at most, but even that is being optimistic. We could not handle even a single faerie, and faeries are known for attacking in clusters, no, in droves.

We don't have to wait long for the creature to fully emerge. All the villagers have ceased any and all work. The children have stopped playing. Nobody can pull their eyes from the sight.

I have never seen such a creature, but I could tell it was at least C-rank just from a glance. It had the upper torso of a man, no, a faerie, but the lower body... The legs were strong, broad and though, like logs, but the ends were sharpened and stabbed the ground where it walked. These limbs connected to a long, barely segmented but thick body, like that of a beetle or a centipede. The lower belly of its abdomen glowed blue and pretty. The armour was a deep, royal bronze.

The human half didn't seem threatening in the least. If anything, it seemed friendly. That is, if you forget the fact that it has all the classical marks of a faerie. If you remember that tidbit, you might rightfully fear him.

I do not reach for my sabre. I know, rightfully so, that I could not defeat this creature. I'll be lucky if it lets me, no, us escape.

It stops. Just inside the clearing, just barely outside the forest. It comes no closer. Fearlessly, as fearlessly as only a powerful creature can act, it turns around and glances at its back. What could it possibly be looking at?

As I wonder, someone hops off its back. Some foolish daredevil? Ah, yes, that is exactly who it is. Our dear returner, Tobiath. He must have hopped onto its back some time ago and only now been discovered. As morbid as it feels saying it, it'll feel good to see him get ripped apart. If it's the last thing I see, so be it.

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But... no. Tobiath says something to the creature, the creature nods, and Tobiath jogs up to here. Had the creature not stood as still as a bronze sculpture, I might have thought our returner was given a five-second lead to run. That was not the case. Tobiath does not meet us in fear, but with a smile and a wave.

"Hey guy-, err, greetings, exalted comrades! I have procured us a method for returning to Brett!" he says, pointing to that abomination of a creature. I meet eyes with the party leader, who simply shakes his head. Reasonable doubt, Henry, reasonable doubt.

"...And what might this method entail?" our party leader asks, a twinge of hope in his voice mimicking the despair I feel in my heart. If this is the way we don't die, I'm not sure if I want to experience it. Tobiath stares at us as if we were sheep.

"-My friend? Over there?" he says, and continues pointing at the creature. Our party leader stares over at what we had thought would be the death of us.

"...That almost-faerie?..."

"Yes!"

"...Tobiath, we've put up with a lot from you, but this... this is the final straw. We are not going anywhere close to that thing. We'll be staying the night to see if we can get some updates regarding the quest. You may leave if you'd like, but please don't try to bring us along on... on that thing. For your own safety, I must recommend that you don't attempt to ride it either," our party leader says quite sensibly. As a matter of fact, I agree with every single thing he just said.

Tobiath doesn't seem to agree, his nose wrinkling up in an odd way, like he just smelled something rancid.

"-What's wrong with him?" he asks, and by the looks of it, he's serious. I've heard rumours about returners, how some don't even know what kinds of food is eaten where, or how some are such extraordinary fighters that they can take on C-ranked monsters with just three party-members, but... this is just a bit too far.

"Tobiath, good Goddess, have you never so much as heard of a faerie before? About the faerie-dances and how they'll pick a man clean in but a few seconds? There's a reason they aren't humanoids, you know?" I say, just a bit fed up with him. He doesn't seem any less confused. If anything, he just seems even more than before.

"Um, okay, then... I'll get going?" Tobiath says, but it's clear he doesn't really understand why we're shooing him away.

"Hold on! Take me with you!" someone shouts. It wasn't anybody in this party, so, who-, oh, I see. It's the elf, Mal, I believe. He runs up to us, carrying a handmade backpack and a map, seemingly ready to take on the world. "Monster-tamer! Bring me into the world, I am ready!"

"Uh, dude, aren't you-,"

"Fret not, I mean no harm. I have realized that it is time for me to get out into the world. Fa-, Mister can only teach me so much, and I need to stretch my wings. Seeing you adventurers... I cannot stay cooped up forever. This is my calling!" Mal exclaims, clenching his fist proudly. Hm. Something here feels... weird. This boy isn't being quite honest, is he?

I glance at the creature, and a few puzzle-pieces come together and let me form a complete picture. Ah. Aha. So that's why. I should have guessed it, really. Monster attacks his father, monster promises to leave, how do you ensure it truly leaves? Perhaps I underestimated this boy.

Tobiath has not noticed this, and I doubt he ever will. No, instead, the returner looks Mal up and down, before nodding.

"Yeah, sure, the more the merrier!" he says, and unlike all the other vaguely heroic things he says, this time, he sounds genuine. Mal himself actually seems quite surprised that it went this well. Taken off-guard, he can only barely accept what Tobiath said before Tobiath heads for the monster, still standing just outside the forest.

They are surely going on quite the adventure, but I'm not interested in that. No, my tum-tum grumbles for reindeer stew. Mm. Stew.

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