From the very beginning, I have never once been able to properly interact with other human beings. Of course, I could mimic the faces they would make and the emotions they might express, but it was never the truth. It was acting, deceit, an illusion that I practiced over and over again just so that I could make her more comfortable. It was all for the benefit of my sister.

After that tragic day, with no need for that charade any longer, I reverted back to my original self. Distant, cold, mechanical… Emotionless…

It was not an immediate change, but more of a gradual shift. I had fewer chances to use such things, so I pushed them aside, filing away the knowledge into the deepest recesses of my brain. After a while, without practice, they began to dull. Finally, what I am left with is my current inept state.

Never was it a problem until I came out of my sanctuary, into this forsaken world. I am finding it harder and harder to manage simple tasks, all due to the constant need for human interaction.

I am at a metaphorical crossroads, where I can either regain my lost abilities or I can continue to flounder about in vain. Obviously, I can only choose the first option if I think about it strategically. It is never that easy though…

“How dare you, you bastard! Take me back to Fort Wayfield, now! What is wrong with you, abducting me? Are you not satisfied, even after all the horrible things you did to me, to Grandma Bee… S-she saved you… How could you!? Take me home!”

I have set up a temporary camp on a lightly traveled road that leads to Graves. Since darkness is around the corner, it is best for Tomorrow to get some sleep. Otherwise, I would have kept going. The urchin brat has finally woken up. Thus, when she noticed what was going on, she started a ruckus. Nothing unusual.

Honestly, I would have preferred for her to sleep for the whole rest of the trip, but that was unlikely to happen…

“No…”

First of all, I am not going back there ever again. The guild is likely crawling all over that place looking for me. I am not so facile that I would graciously fall into the hands of the enemy when there is no foreseeable benefit in it for me… Besides, I blew it up, you know…

However… As annoying as it is, I have kind of fucked up her entire life so the least I can do is drop her off at Graves when I get there. If only to return the favor to that witch.

“What!? What do you mean no!?”

“Just, no…”

“Aaargh!! I’ve had it! I knew you were an evil man, but nooo, Grandma Bee insisted you were just a little cold, and look how that turned out! You killed her! You killed her, and you don’t even care! You’re horrible! I hate you! I hate you!! I haaaate you!! Just die already, you bastard!!”

Cold, huh…? That is true… That sounds just like something she might say, that old witch.

Well, no matter what she thinks, logically, eye for an eye is an unproductive measure. No matter who was to die, whether it be me, my family, herself, or everyone in the entire world, none of it is going to make her feel any better. That witch is dead, and I cannot change that fact, even if I wanted to.

I wonder how she feels right now? I know that she is feeling resentment, sadness, and fear, but I am simply unable to know what those sorts of things truly feel like.

From what I have read, sadness is a very negative emotion, that hurts you near your heart. It registers in the brain in around the same place as physical pain, so would it just feel like being stabbed in the heart?

Fear is the body’s reaction to perceived danger, involving the fight or flight response. I can partially imitate this response through a breathing technique that activates the sympathetic nervous system. This is much like the one I use to activate the parasympathetic nervous system during meditation. However, my body does not produce this response naturally.

Then there is resentment or anger, a blood pumping emotion that is triggered by situations, not unlike the one this child has gone through. Increased blood pressure and a burst of energy; It sounds similar to when I use [Corrupting]. Does that mean that whilst using it I am angry? I do not understand… I do know it does not make me wish harm on others though.

Even with scientific knowledge of what these things are and plenty of examples in the form of books, manga, anime, and real life, I am still unable to fully understand what this child is feeling. Hence, I cannot respond appropriately.

Actually, this is the perfect chance to practice my speech and emoting. The hatred that she feels for me right now, while being a negative emotion, is still an integral part of human nature. I can use this opportunity to regain my ability to express hatred. Teach me well, Sensei.

“Shut up, brat.”

“What did you say!? You have no right to speak to me like that, you evil bastard! Besides, I’m already 12 years old; I’m not a brat!”

…

“Eat your supper, brat.”

The can of stew I have opened for supper is sitting next to the campfire keeping warm. It is not very different from the stew on Earth, although it is blander. But overall, it is much better than having to catch food myself.

“No way! I don’t want to eat anything you made, it’s likely poisoned anyways!”

Hmmm, that is a good mindset you have, brat. However, I have not the resources to waste something as useful as poison on a brat like you. If I had really wanted to kill you, you would have been dead already.

“I’m eating it…”

“So? You could’ve poisoned it after you served your portion. Besides, it’s not like you’d get poisoned anyways, you monster!”

“…”

I am tiring of this. If she does not eat, she is just going to become even more annoying. That said, it is time for a pop quiz. I pretty much have this whole anger thing figured out, so let me put it to the test.

“Eat it, now!”

“I said no! Shut up already, bastard!”

“…”

Hmmm… Perhaps the forcefulness was lacking? In that case…

“That does it…”

“Wh...? Hey, mng!?”

Lifting the brat up by the waist under my left arm, I grab a spoonful of warm stew out of the pot and forcefully jam it into her mouth. As hard as she flails in opposition, while not particularly strong for my age, she is unable to overthrow me. The gap between our ages is just that great.

After the food is in her mouth, I hold her mouth closed and pinch her nose. She struggles momentarily against my tyranny, but she finally swallows it in bitter indignance. As I release her, she coughs a few times exaggeratedly, but since it really had no poison in it, everything is just her imagination.

Good. That went well. For my first outburst of anger after quite a while, I believe I did objectively well. Although, I think I need to work on the whole “That does it!” thing. Somehow, it sounded a little strange.

‘Cough, cough!’

“What do you think you’re doing, you bastard! Ugh! I’m poisoned! Urk… Ummm… Huh? I’m not poisoned…? How’s this possible?”

Whoa… If you act that astonished, you will hurt my feelings… Heh…

“You, what’s the meaning of this? Why isn’t this poisoned? Is this some kind of trap? Maybe it’s a slow acting poison? Argh! I’m poisoned!”

“Hurry up and eat, brat. I want to clean the dishes.”

“Argh! Stop calling me that! I’m not a brat, I’m a lady!”

“Whatever you say…”

Just hurry it up already. I have other, more important things I could be doing instead of waiting for you…

“Nu! I heard that! Fine, I’ll eat your stupid food, but don’t think this makes up for what you did!”

I should hope not. Is the price of human life as cheap as a can of stew? No… In fact, you should hate me; It is your privilege as the downtrodden to feel animosity towards your oppressor.

Whether your hatred makes a difference is debatable. But as long as you continue to feel it, I will continue to feed off of it, until I have once again regained my cloak of emotions; Or at least until I reach Graves. Then she is going straight back to her urchin life.

Speaking of which, how did this girl meet that witch in the first place? Kind of suspicious. Do not tell me it is something like “I was lost in the woods and she lent me a helping hand…”, or “I was being attacked by a beastkin and she helped me escape…”, or something…

‘Sigh…’

I miss manga, anime, and light novels… Oh well… Right now I have a few things that require work, apart from my conversation skills, that is. My [Raven’s Garb], which is what I have decided to name the outfit of my dark persona, needs a few finishing touches before it can be of any use.

With all the materials I have inherited from the clothier’s cellar, I might as well learn to sew a few things. I currently have only a vague knowledge of sewing, from things I have read, or watched. It should be easy to get the hang of it though, thanks to my recently unlocked learning potential.

As I would rather not mess up my outfit while practicing, instead, I shall sew myself a shirt. Why do I need a shirt, you ask? Well, it just so happens that I find myself presently without one.

It may not bother me personally, but if I were to meet anyone right now, I would stand out way more than I already do. I may also make some clothing for the urchin child as well… It would not even make a dent in the vast supplies I currently have; There is just that much.

The only clothes she has is the dress she was wearing at the witch’s house, so I doubt she will mind if I experiment on her for a while. From my knowledge, the majority of females love clothing. Yes, undoubtedly so.

“Brat, lend me your dress.”

“NOOO!! Stay away! Don’t touch me with your filthy pervert hands! Die, pervert!! Pervert General! Pervert Overlord!!”

I see… If I do not say what I am thinking out loud, my intentions can be easily misconstrued. How bothersome…

“Are you finished?”

“No! Die, die die! Pervert, Super pervert, Ultra perveeeert!!”

Throwing her spoon directly at my face and running away, she hides behind the coach. Hah… Considering what must have happened to her, this is probably the correct response, but it is still kind of annoying.

Explaining this is too much of a pain, should I just give up? Hmmm… But if I do not use her dress, the only references I have on me are my pants, which are scorched, and shredded; Barely of any use. I guess it really has to be that dress…

If it is because of embarrassment, I can just give her something to wrap around herself in the meantime, but if it is because she does not want me to touch her or anything belonging to her, then there is not much I can do.

I guess it can wait… For now, I should clean these dishes. I chose this spot to set up camp deliberately since I noticed a stream through the trees. I have not washed myself since staying at that idiot family’s manor, so I would like to use this chance to clean the blood, ash, and dirt from my body.

That urchin child... Frankly, she smells awful, to the point where it gives me a migraine. Normally, I would throw her in the water and scrub her until she is so clean you could see your own reflection on her forehead, but… The problem is, I would rather not have to deal with the whole screaming fit she will pull.

I found four pieces of crude soap while I was packing things at the witch’s house, the kind made of tallow. The only thing I can think of is to give her a piece of it and tell her to wash herself in the stream. Whether she comes out to my specifications, I am rather dubious of, but anything is better than it is now.

The sun will very soon set, so I should wash these dishes while I can still see, then myself, then give the order for this child to go wash herself. After everything and everyone, is nice and tidy, I will send her to bed and begin my nightly rituals. I feel like a shepherd tending to a flock of ill-mannered sheep…

“Oh well, daylight is fading… Dishes.”

The stream is relatively close to the camp. However, there is a stand of trees in front, blocking the view. While this may pose a problem for thievery, from both outside sources and inside, I do not think they will get too far on a horse as ornery as Tomorrow is. Besides, I made it very clear who her owner is, so disobedience is unlikely.

Like you might expect, the peaceful ambiance surrounding the stream is a pleasant sight, especially after such an eventful day. Sitting by the edge of the water, I am reminded of the earliest days of my journey here in Gearia.

Back then, I was still settling into my newly unmedicated state, so I was mostly ignoring everything around me. Now that I have gotten used to the morbid apparitions that haunt this landscape, I can spare the occasional frolic through the scenic countryside. I have adapted to the horror genre, though it is still a fucking bother.

Taking a deep breath whilst washing the dishes, I tightly close my eyes, before opening them wide again in an attempt to flush out the demons. If this monstrosity of a world could be dispelled by such a thing, I would be most pleased.

Unfortunately, life is fraught with disappointments, and the black setting sun still looms over the grotesque display before me. Well, it was worth a shot…

Having finished cleaning both the dishes and myself, I return to the camp, only to find that the urchin child has amassed various weapons on her person. All of them are tools and equipment taken from my supply. It looks as if she is preparing to fight quite the battle-worthy opponent, though none of the things she has chosen will be of much help in a fight.

Whatever, I could not care less. As long as she does not break or lose anything, there is no harm. Carrying around all those sharp objects is likely to end badly though, so maybe it would be better if I confiscated them… Nah…

“Oi, brat, take this…”

“Wah!?”

It appears she had been unaware that I returned since she is startled when I speak. Clanging noises resound, as she drops a few of the artifacts out of surprise.

Looking down at the mess she has made, she begins collecting the items again in a flurry. She is not the brightest, is she?

“Go clean yourself…”

It takes her a second to piece together what I say, all the while she simply stares at me in confusion.

“Soap…? Oh, you meant wash off in the stream… Wait, why should I listen to you!?”

“Smells… Gross…”

“Uu! W-who cares!? That’s none of your business!”

Hah… This is what I was talking about. Living on the street tends to cloud one’s perception of what is hygienically tolerable. Bacteria and viruses are not going to sit around, waiting until you are finished with your business before they make their move, you know.

I may not become fatally ill from something like that, but that does not mean it will have no effect on me. Whether you care about becoming sick or not, is irrelevant; What bothers me is that you will spread it to me, not to mention how you smell.

Now, how should I get my point across…?

Ah, I forgot! If the target does not feel like it, I just have to give her a little pep talk…

“Heeey… I know that look! Don’t…!”

...

There we go. Now I just give her a few [Commands], maybe a failsafe or two, and… Done! The [Hypnosis] is now in place…

“I suppose you will need a towel, a cloth, and a lantern… These useless weapons can stay though. Okay, Good. Now… [Release]!”

“Wh..! Umm… Oh yeah! I was going to bathe, wasn’t I? I don’t have time to be arguing with you.”

Whoa… Even when under orders, she manages to talk back. Her will is unbreakable. Perhaps her only goal is to make me pay for what I have done. In that case, we actually have something in common…

Taking a few minutes to repack the stuff the girl has taken from the coach, I then leave a couple of blankets and a pillow on the ground near the fire. She can sleep on those. I obviously will not be needing any.

After about twelve minutes of peace and quiet, I make out a sharp metallic sound from the direction of the stream. Did I not take all of her weapons? Dangerous! This girl is so dangerous…

That is not all… I hear another clang. Something is fighting… With blades, no less. Is this supposed to be the part where I go check on what is going on, only to be pulled into some kind of fight scene, and end up protecting the princess…?

“I should sort out what I will need tonight so that I can begin learning to sew. Let me see... Needles, check, thread, check, fabric, check…”

Preparing the necessary tools, I completely ignore whatever hero-esque situation is going on hidden beyond the convenient treeline. I refuse to get involved, even if the person locked in dire combat just so happens to be that urchin child. I only promised to drive her to Graves. If she goes and gets herself killed along the way, it is not my problem.

When you think about it, it is for the best if she is to meet her fate out here in the middle of nowhere. It is not like she has a great life to begin with. Maybe she will be better off, rather than going back to begging.

“{UnS4tIsFaCt0Ry!1!}”

‘Urk…’

Well… That is true. If a manga character were to act the same way, the plot would eventually be lacking. However…

“I am not a hero…”

The small legs, that had been hanging down off of the coach, bouncing back and forth, kicking the back of my head as I am searching through my supplies, stop when I give my answer.

“{…}”

I simply cannot be the hero you are looking for. I could go save that child; It is not beyond my power. That is not what you were asking for though, is it? You desire an act of heroism fueled by empathy and compassion, of which I am unable to give you.

Even if I were to save her, would it not be for selfish reasons? I can only see it as an immoral, act of injustice upon the heart of anyone involved. I do not like that kind of hero…

“{DOe5 W4dE hAt3 mE?!1?}”

“Of course I do! I hate you… I hate that I could not save you. I hate what I have become, now that you are gone, and I hate the whole damned world when you are not in it!”

Being able to mimic hatred again is a plus… If any of that was the truth…

“No… I want you… I wanted to save you, I wanted to be the person you were looking for, and I wanted you at the center of my world. However, fate is cruel, and now it no longer matters…”

I feel cold. The heat from my body is pouring out into the world, dissipating into the endless night sky. Countless calculations are coalescing into a single, unmoveable fact.

“It will change nothing…”

No amount of practice can change how I really feel, and saving that child will not be of any significant benefit to herself, or anyone else. Perhaps I am missing a part of the equation?

“Why do you insist that I save this girl? What do you see, that I cannot?”

Taking a step back, so as to identify her intentions, I am instead greeted by her absence. Again with the teleportation thing… Suddenly, I feel a sensation at my back, and a weight begins to press upon my shoulders. She has appeared from behind and latched onto me in a piggyback.

It has been awhile since I have felt this kind of thing. Not since I used to carry my sister around when she was younger. I suppose this is where a normal person would feel nostalgic. I, however, feel nothing.

Her arms wrap around my shoulders, and her hands meet in front of my heart. I am completely encapsulated by her embrace but feel no warmth from her cold, porcelain-like skin. This is only exaggerated by my shirtlessness and the cool night air.

“Or should I just trust you?”

No answer is given, but that just confirms the correctness of the statement.

“Hmmmm… I wonder…”

With that, the grip around my neck tightens immensely, and sharp nails begin to dig into my chest.

“Ok, ok! I was just joking. Please do not harm your poor brother too much.”

Not entirely enthused by my teasing, she hops down off of my back, and turns her head to the side, pouting with arms crossed. It is only in moments like these that I am able to get back at her for all of the outrageous nonsense she puts me through.

So... She wants me to just trust her. To blindly listen to her with no regards as to the benefits, or the consequences. My highly analytical mind can only refute such an impractical judgment. Perhaps that is the exact reason I should listen.

If somehow, rather than using the heavily-structured logical reasoning I am used to, I veer off track, relying only on baser instincts… What outcome would such an action bring about?

Come to think of it, this ghost-like girl is some sort of personification of something deep within me, so I doubt she would lead me astray. I tend to project the image of my dead sister upon her, but in actuality, it is more like she is another part of my fractured heart, separated and given life.

I still do not completely understand it, no matter how much research in psychology I attain. It is likely that she represents human aspects such as empathy, and compassion, among others. Where these have come from though, I have no idea. I have never once experienced such things myself.

Placing my hand on her head, I gaze into the black swirling masses, in place of her eyes, and gently stroke her scalp. I had often read about the pleasant effect this has on people, so I ended up using it upon my sister whenever I could not devise any way to calm her down.

Eventually, it became a type of ritual. It not only worked wonders on my sister but also made me feel at peace as well. This time too, it has made her face slacken, free of any discomfort or negative emotions.

As she slowly fades away, I stare at the hand that was once gracing her head. The action, the shape, and the reason are all the same, but it still was not the same…

‘Sigh…’

“Now then, I suppose I should get this over with.”

From the sounds of the harrowing combat, if left alone, it is quite evident that the victory will go to whoever the attacker is. In other words, the girl will die. This is obvious, as the attacker is likely a beastkin.

The only beastkin I have learned of so far is that abkir that raided my camp back when I had first come to Gearia. That thing was bigger than a lion and looked far tougher, so it is unlikely a human will last long against that kind of monster.

The fact that the fight is still even going on, is actually quite puzzling to me. Even if I factor in her strong tenacity, and am very, very, lenient when factoring in circumstantial values, the outcomes still miss by wide margins. Nope… Like I thought, just using realistic logic, it is simply unfathomable…

In a manga, it is not unheard of, since the god-like powers of luck that some manga characters have borders on comical when compared to real life. Unfortunately, if I were to use that logic, I would have no way of deciding the proper boundaries.

A nonstandard outcome… A deviation from the norm… A corrupt value…

I see…

------------

I really, really, want to bathe…

This feeling suddenly overpowers my mind and causes anything else to fade from focus, until the only thing that matters is this one single task. It isn’t an unpleasant feeling, more like a strong drive to get things done, with no room for error; Failure is not an option.

It’ll be easy though, after all, I’ve been given my very own piece of soap to wash with, as well as a lantern to light my way. I’ve never been able to use soap this new until now, living on the streets, and all. This is actually my first time taking a real bath.

Until now I’ve only been able to clean myself sparingly, mostly only when I was at Grandma Bee’s house… Grandma Bee…

Oh well, all that matters right now is that I properly clean myself. I can worry about everything else afterward…

Having removed my dress, and hung it from a tree, I dip my toes into the water. Though slightly cool, it’s nothing I can’t handle. In fact, the flowing water touching my skin kind of feels good.

When I sit down, the water only reaches up to my waist. There’s just enough room for me to fit my whole head under, so I dip my head into its bubbling depths. Somehow, I feel like a fish, swimming along without a care. All the while, somewhere deep down, I feel a nagging sense of dread.

But… I brush off this feeling because all that matters right now is that I properly, carefully, clean myself. Everything else is of little importance as of right now…

I’m thorough and pay attention to every detail, making sure not to miss a single spot. In some spots, the dirt was caked on like thick scales, and very hard to remove, but I persevere. I scrub the soapy bubbles back and forth until the rose-tinted skin beneath is revealed.

Finally, after spending well over ten minutes scrubbing everything, I am like a whole new person. It’s as if I have been reborn as a baby; Clean, smooth, soft, and fresh. The excitement of my transformation grows within me, and I break into an embarrassing grin. But, what is this other murky feeling that is rising along with it?

Nevermind. All that matters right now is that I properly, carefully, thoroughly, clean myself. I have no need to think about anything else, at least for the moment…

Now then, I just need to wash my dress and I’ll be finished. However, there’s a slight problem… Until now I’ve been relatively fine, despite straying from the highway, since it isn’t that far from the camp. But, in this kind of situation, it would’ve only been a matter of time before something should appear…

I hear a rustling from the brush located opposite the camp’s direction, somehow different than when the wind blows through the leaves. It’s sharper, closer, and even though it’s dark, I can tell immediately that there is something prowling on the outskirts of the lantern light.

If it is a common species of animal, there is no need to worry. In that case, it’s probably interested in the light from the lantern. If however, the prowling creature is a beastkin, then I’ll have to move fast if I want to make it out alive.

Normally I would run away as soon as I could, but I can’t abandon my things. They’re all I have left. Besides, I still need to finish cleaning my dress. Therefore, I’ll fight! win or lose, I’ll do my best!

Quickly dashing to the stream’s edge, I retrieve the weapon from in between the towels I’d placed along the shore before I started bathing. It’s only a modest kitchen knife, but it’s better than nothing.

Seeing my swift movement as a sign to attack, my assailant decides to strike. It finally enters into the light and reveals its face. While it is, in fact, a beastkin, luckily it is one of the slower variety. This doesn’t make it any less of a deadly beast though.

The beastkin, a large, striped creature called a borpa, pounces at me. It only misses due to me redirecting the blow from the long, sharp horn attached to its forehead with my knife. The speed of the borpa might be slow in comparison to other beastkin, but if that horn reaches my body even once, I’m not making it out alive.

A borpa horn has an oily film that not only makes slicing through prey much easier, it also acts as a deadly poison, allowing it to kill most creatures with a single blow. I’ll have to divert every attack from the horn, but other than that, there’s not much danger. It’s just, getting close enough to strike back will be difficult as long as it has said horn.

Again, the borpa charges towards me. But I see its path and manage to direct myself in such a way as to escape the blow. The clash of the kitchen knife and the borpa’s horn rings out into the night, and the force from the collision circulates throughout my whole body.

Even if I am able to redirect the attack, the sheer strength of the borpa’s attacks is going to wear me down eventually. I need to think of a plan, or I’m in trouble.

Each strike, I manage to just barely dodge. But when the borpa simply shifts its head to compensate, I’m left having to shield myself with the knife. This dangerous dance of blades continues to draw more and more energy from my body, while the borpa remains consistent with its speed and force. This thing is displaying an almost endless amount of stamina.

After gaining a bit of leeway on a particularly well-timed dodge, I snatch up a handful of pebbles from the water’s edge. The gap was only a second, but I just barely make it in time to toss the stones at the incoming borpa as a smokescreen.

As the borpa reacts in defense to the flying debris, using this small chance for a counter, I lunge at the hulking beast, aiming the knife straight for the thick neck muscles and throat. If I make this strike, the borpa will no longer be able to breathe and should bleed out shortly after.

The knife connects, passing through the thick hide with a crunch. Thankfully, the aim couldn’t have been any truer. As it rears onto its hind legs, the borpa reaches such terrible height that the knife is tragically wrenched from my grip.

I’m feeling a bit too close to the beast, so I attempt to dodge to the side. Despite this, I’m clipped by the right leg in its descent. While it is just a grazing blow, the impact is tremendous, and I’m sent smashing into the ground.

“Kh!?”

Winded and rattled, I crumple into a ball, unable to even think straight from the pain. My entire body is throbbing wildly, and my vision is blurred. Still, I can make out the huge body of the borpa, raising its horn in preparation for my deathblow. I can only watch it in agony.

I guess the attack I’ve landed just isn’t a deep enough wound to finish it off, and now I’m left without a means to protect myself. I’m completely out of commision after only one measly hit of this beast, and now it’s ready to finish me off. Why does it always turn out like this?

So unlucky…

“Toh!”

I’m not fully able to make it out through the concussive haze. From what I can tell, a bright light that explodes near the borpa’s horn, shattering it into glistening shards. The scene leaves both the borpa and I, in disbelief.

“Tototoh!!”

Three more consecutive strikes blast the borpa from an unknown source, penetrating the thick skull of the beast, and toppling it from the sheer force behind the blows.

In mere seconds, the creature is reduced from the ferocious monster that caused me so much grief, to a simple pile of flesh and bones. Rather than thankfulness at being rescued, my current self only feels the disparagement from this turn of events.

Why must I be saved by that man? I am such a weak person…

------------

It is a zebra-rhino…

Well, it has some peculiarities, but for the most part, it looks like a small zebra-striped rhino with an overzealous horn. By the way, did you know that a zebra’s stripes are white? As a matter of fact, this “Zebrhino” also has black skin with white stripes.

Anyways, I have decided to observe from the sidelines to figure out whether my current hypothesis holds true. Though it has always been a possibility, I have not gotten confirmation of it until now.

The power she displays definitely comes from my [Black Corona]. It is not enough to take down such a daunting beast, but I can still feel the remnants of the sizzling mass of dark energy as it transmits from its source, like wafts of steam being sucked through a vacuum.

She tragically loses the match with the beast, although just barely. With that, I finally decide to step in and end things quickly, before the thing causes her any irreversible damage.

With my knife equipped, I use the massive potential energy supplied by its enormous weight and focus the point of impact upon its strongest weapon, the blade-horn. I smash the butt of the hilt into the horn with as much force as possible, causing a devastating impact.

Sparks fly as our blades connect, and the roaring chime it brings cries out into the night. The strategically placed blow is somehow strong enough to cause the horn to explode, fracturing it into shards, which fly like bullets towards the beast’s face.

As it reels from such a devastating attack, I follow up with a combo of pinpoint strikes aimed for the temple, which shatter the skull, causing significant trauma inside the creature’s brain.

Toppling from the string of blows, the beast meets its end swiftly, and painlessly. Just to be sure, I draw my knife in an arc and undo the beast’s throat, letting the blood drain onto the ground.

(Such a majestic creature, now nothing more than a pile of flesh and bones. So wasteful. I doubt I can even eat this type of thing to begin with…)

Oh well, not much I can do about that, I guess. Besides, there are things that need tending to, so I will focus on those for now. As it seems the urchin child has taken quite a fair bit of damage. She will, unfortunately, require some kind of medical attention.

Taking the lantern, I survey the surroundings for any other signs of life. Luckily, there are none. Thus, I set to work diagnosing the kind of damage that the child has ended up receiving.

The bitter scene of this child, huddling in the fetal position, scrapes covering her naked form, makes me recall certain unpleasant memories, which I flush away by focusing on the task at hand.

Most of the damage is superficial, being either cuts and scrapes. There is a fairly large contusion on her right side where the beast managed to clip her though. The ribs might be damaged, maybe even broken. I will have to check to know for sure.

With my right hand, I apply a gentle pressure to her side near the injury, feeling for any abnormalities as I go. Other than the obvious swelling, I find no signs of significant damage to her ribs. In all likelihood, they have not been broken.

With that out of the way, I should check for concussion or hemorrhaging in the brain…

“Oi, brat! Tell me your name!”

“Nn? M-my name…?”

Hah… From the sounds of things, she has been rattled a bit…

“F-Fern… My name i-is… Fern.”

“I see… Fern, huh…”

“G-got a problem with it?”

That is more like it. If she still has the energy to make that kind of retort, then something like a few cuts, bruises, and a bump on the head, stand no chance in hell.

“Hmph! Do not push your luck, brat…”

“Like I said, my name is Fern!”

“Yeah, yeah… Hurry up and finish washing already… You will freeze dressed like that, you know…”

“Eh...? AAHH!?! NOO!! Get out of here you damn perverted bastard!!”

Finally noticing that she is naked, she breaks into a panic. Running about, she grabs a towel to cover her body, then plucks the knife from the monster’s corpse and launches it at me. Rather than embarrassed, it is more like she is furious. Is this really how you should treat your life’s benefactor? Though I deflect it with my own knife, no problem.

I guess she is entitled to at least some anger in that situation. Although, I wish she would tone it down a bit, since a similar creature may still be lurking about. I would prefer not to have a repeat of what just happened.

Now that I think about it, is this not one of those standard anime scenes, where the heroine goes “Kyaa!”, and slaps the hero? It seems wrong… Maybe I am just not hero material… Also, would that make this child the heroine…?

“Somehow, I am disappointed…”

“What!? Disappointed how!? What’s that supposed to mean? Nobody even asked your opinion in the first place, you bastard!!”

Eh, what? Did I just trigger a flag by accident? I was not paying attention…

“No, nevermind…”

“Aargh! Mind your own damn business, you damn old pervert!”

Old? I guess from her point of view I am considered old. Somehow, it feels like she is getting the wrong impression… Oh well, I am not one to dwell on such things. I should just let her finish what she is doing since my presence only seems to be slowing her down. How bothersome…

Sitting near the fire, I gaze towards the night sky. Three moons, one dyed a reddish-black, one a dark-gray, and the last one a bluish-black, each one being increasingly smaller in that order. It may sound kind of cliche, but it is possible that Gwyn may also be gazing upon those same three moons. They probably look slightly different though. It is kind of calming…

“I am on my way, Gwyn…”

There is no force in this world that can keep me from achieving these goals. I will repay my debts to her… It is only a matter of time.