Chapter 18
We entered the village under the chief’s warm welcome.
He showed us around every corner of the tiny settlement—which had barely a hundred residents—and only stopped once he’d personally escorted us all the way to the inn we were supposed to stay at.
“This is the largest inn in our village.”
“The inn’s fine, but we won’t be staying there. We already built a house nearby.”
“…A house? There shouldn’t be any place suitable for building one around here…”
The chief murmured in confusion.
I found myself equally confused.
“There was a nice spot near the river beyond the forest.”
“If it’s beyond the forest… C-could you possibly mean the Forest of Death?”
Forest of Death? What kind of edgy name was that?
It sounded like something straight out of a cringy teenage fantasy novel.
And strangely… it felt familiar somehow.
Where have I heard that before?
But this was the first time I’d ever learnt that the forest had a nickname like that—after ninety-nine regressions.
I tilted my head, and the chief asked again, sounding incredulous.
“The forest west of the village. You actually passed through that forest?”
“Yeah. Is there a problem?”
The chief’s face went pale.
He swallowed dryly, then started talking in rapid bursts.
“That place is uninhabitable. How did you even end up there—no, more importantly, how are you still alive?”
“…?”
What kind of nonsense was he spouting?
I glanced at Kaizen and Hamma. They looked just as clueless as I was.
Growing impatient, the chief continued.
“No one who entered that forest has ever returned alive. Once night falls, a massive monster awakens inside.”
“A massive monster?”
“A creature as big as a house, with a single horn in the middle of its forehead and glowing red eyes. Its temperament is so violent it kills any living thing it sees…”
The chief gasped mid-sentence, as if the very memory was horrifying.
Tsk tsk. Rabbits really were a delicate bunch.
But something didn’t add up.
“If everyone who sees the monster dies, how does anyone know what it looks like?”
“…Thank goodness it sleeps during the day. And also…”
The chief hesitated, then looked toward Hamma.
Hamma—who had been carefully inspecting the iron ore he’d brought—looked up, startled by the sudden attention.
“Actually, Hamma survived a night in that forest when he was very young. A woodcutter near the outskirts saw him stumbling out. That was seven years ago.”
“Huh? What are you talking about? I don’t remember any of that!”
Hamma’s eyes widened, clearly hearing this for the first time.
The chief looked at him with a pained expression before answering in a sombre voice.
“Of course you don’t. After you collapsed that night—after you described the monster—you lost all memory of anything before that day.”
“What?!”
The iron ore clattered from Hamma’s hands, metal banging loudly against the cart.
“I didn’t tell you because I was afraid it would hurt you if you remembered… but given the situation, I have no choice.”
“Huh?”
“You were drenched in blood when you crawled out of that forest. It was a miracle the woodcutter found you in time.”
The chief’s voice was grave.
He didn’t seem to be lying… But if the monster was so dangerous, how did Hamma survive?
And something else bothered me.
Hamma’s reset point is seven years ago.
A thread of thought drifted through my mind—almost within reach.
A giant, house-sized monster. Red eyes. Sleeps during the day, awakens only at night.
And a forest that felt strangely familiar.
Could it be—
Hirata?
My head snapped up.
Once the idea formed, doubt turned instantly into certainty.
If it’s Hirata, that’s a low-tier named monster!
The unusually empty forest despite its abundant resources.
The nocturnal beasts that only appeared during the day.
And—
The very first wall every Tales World player smacked headfirst into.
Wow. We really got lucky.
Hirata feared light. If you knew its gimmick, it was easy to handle—but in the dark, it was practically invincible.
So the beast Hamma heard last night was probably Hirata.
If the creature was indeed Hirata, then Hamma surviving with no knowledge was nothing short of divine luck.
I grabbed the chief’s arm urgently.
“Tell me more. Did Hamma have anything on him back then? Anything unusual?”
If this had something to do with why Hamma reset to seven years ago each cycle…
Then it might be tied to why I kept returning too.
“Well…”
The chief’s expression clouded as he looked at Hamma, then quietly averted his eyes.
And then he said—
“…It happened so long ago, I don’t remember clearly.”
What kind of irresponsible answer was that?!
Even Hamma protested, indignant.
“What do you mean? Everyone knows you have the best memory in the village!”
“… I’m sorry. There’s nothing I can tell you.”
For a moment, I saw the exact same expression he’d shown in the previous cycle—dodging the topic, refusing to speak.
It matched perfectly.
I stepped toward him slowly.
“Is that so?”
He flinched and stepped back.
I grabbed his shoulder and smiled sweetly.
The chief’s ears trembled at the sight.
“Well, if you don’t remember, then that’s that. Let’s drop it for now… and head to your place. You said I could use your kitchen.”
Suspicious, the chief stared at me for a moment.
But when he found no hidden intent, he reluctantly nodded.
He has no idea.
That my cooking had a special ability.
If he didn’t remember, I’d make him remember.
I followed behind the slumped, reluctant chief, eyes gleaming.
Evening finally arrived.
In front of the round white village hall, a feast was laid out.
Meat towered high on every plate—rabbits really did love their protein.
Hamma stared at it all, drooling shamelessly.
“Will this really break the chief’s restriction?”
“I put in extra effort, but one serving probably won’t be enough.”
Tonight’s special dish: Snowflake Churros.
Kaizen had loved them, and they were quick to make with limited ingredients.
“Then I’ll eat everything else on the table! If the chief has nothing but churros left to eat, he’ll have to keep eating them!”
Watching Hamma scheme for his own benefit, Kaizen clicked his tongue.
“Don’t pull any stupid tricks. He already looks suspicious.”
“Hmph! Then you come up with something better, Hero!”
Just then, the chief stepped onto the platform and called for attention.
Everyone picking through the buffet froze and perked up their ears.
“Today marks a joyous occasion—the liberation of the rabbit beast-folk who were trapped in the orc settlement. Please give a big hand to the Hero, and his companions Romi and Hamma.”
Wow… what was this?
Why did he sound like the host of a ceremony?
Dozens of eyes shot toward us.
Then they set their plates down and began clapping loudly.
“Would you say a few words?”
Hamma froze mid-bite, still holding a chicken leg in each hand.
Kaizen looked at me with an unreadable expression.
I took the opportunity and stood up.
“Thanks for inviting us. I prepared a special dessert from the Eastern Continent—Snowflake Churros. Please try at least one.”
I even pretended to eat it myself.
Hamma eagerly shoved his into his mouth, and the moment he did, his eyes sparkled.
Seeing him, the crowd quickly gathered.
“It’s crispy but soft!”
“Wh-what in the… what am I eating?!”
Hundreds of churros vanished in a blink.
I’d made five hundred, and half were already gone.
“Chief! Come try one!”
“I-is it really that good?”
Drawn in by the crowd devouring them like a feeding frenzy, the chief approached hesitantly.
Heh heh… good. Just as planned.
He took a bite—hesitant at first.
Then his eyes flew wide open.
And when I looked up at his head—
I widened my eyes for an entirely different reason.
