Chapter 15
After gently brushing George’s hair as he sat collapsed on the ground, I stood and walked over to Caleb, who was struggling to get back up.
Monsters are ranked according to various factors—danger level, the method required to kill them, and so on.
Some die like ordinary animals when struck hard enough.
Some only die if you separate the head from the body.
And some strange ones keep reviving unless you destroy the core hidden somewhere inside them.
Caleb belonged to the third type.
Which meant you had to gouge out his eyes or stab him properly to finish him off…
I still can’t do that.
I didn’t think I could endure the sensation of tearing apart a living being with my bare hands instead of a sword.
So I decided to do the best I could for now.
Thud! Thud! Thud!
I beat him down mercilessly.
As Caleb writhed, trying to rise again, I quite literally pummeled him—until he vomited something black from his mouth.
Please just pass out and stop moving.
When I smashed him hard enough to gouge the ground beneath him, a sharp blade suddenly appeared and ruthlessly pierced his eye.
“Ah.”
Blood sprayed into the air, and I reflexively squeezed my eyes shut.
Slowly, I followed the tip of the sword with my gaze. In the darkness, faintly glowing golden hair fluttered in the wind.
“Are your nails just for decoration?”
Valentin glanced at my hands and stepped back. I stared at him silently before carefully rising to my feet.
Perhaps because I’d been moving nonstop, the pounding of my heart echoed loudly in my head.
Valentin lowered his gaze as I stood there breathing roughly without answering.
After a long silence, as though considering something, he finally lifted his head. Beneath lashes that fluttered like butterfly wings, clear green eyes were revealed.
He spoke.
“You did well.”
What kind of sudden compliment was that?
The unexpected praise made my tension dissolve.
Wasn’t he just mocking me for not stabbing Caleb’s eye with my nails?
I scrunched my nose, trying to read his hidden intent, when his gaze shifted past me.
Caleb?!
I spun around—only to see Devon, who had already driven a sword into Caleb’s eye.
“Ugh…”
The patchy green ground was soaked in Caleb’s dark crimson blood.
Even at the sight of the blood-drenched scene, Valentin didn’t wipe the faint smile from his lips. Instead, he raised his sword and walked toward where the hounds were locked in battle.
When I followed him, I saw Ra and Ri had joined in fighting Caleb as well. Re must have exhausted himself completely—he lay on the ground, panting heavily.
It looked like he might never stand again.
Just as I thought I should go help—
Valentin moved like the wind.
When he swung his arm, a red line flared like a spark and cleaved straight through the air.
His swordsmanship was so precise that he cut exactly what he intended, exactly as much as he intended.
As if he and the sword were one and the same.
One. Two. Three. Four.
Valentin cleanly finished off even the Calebs the rookie knights had been struggling against.
When the red storm finally passed, what remained were Caleb’s corpses, one dog at death’s door, four poisoned dogs, and George Teller—his face drained white with self-reproach.
Inside the Shamandra Administration Office.
Valentin sat at the head of a long table, with the Knights of Berenice seated on either side.
“We anticipated they would move in groups, but I didn’t expect this many to descend into the forest already. We don’t know how many more Calebs may emerge from the Black Swamp. It’s concerning.”
Torso, the knight permanently stationed in Shamandra, wore a troubled expression.
“They’re tricky to deal with, but if we properly identify the strategy to defeat them, they can be overcome. Based on today’s battle, I’ll compile a guide on how to handle Caleb. Please distribute it to the defense forces and train them to follow the protocol precisely.”
Devon wrote something down on parchment with his pen.
As he said, the reason only the Knights of Berenice had gone on reconnaissance was to gather information on Caleb—to understand its characteristics and methods of attack.
If executed properly, it would minimize casualties when Shamandra’s defense forces encountered them.
It won’t be easy, though.
In short, we had taken on the role of pioneers.
“By the way, Sir Nathan’s skill was truly outstanding. I can’t tell you how surprised I was.”
“…Excuse me?”
I nearly jumped at the sudden mention of my name.
Torso met my eyes and burst into hearty laughter, his round cheeks lifting prominently.
“As the Duke said—you proved your worth yourself. What incredible strength.”
I clamped my mouth shut at the sudden shower of praise. I had only grit my teeth and endured because I didn’t want to tuck my tail and run.
Devon, Neumann, and Torso had each carried out their roles well too, hadn’t they?
…Come to think of it, maybe I did handle it pretty well.
Feeling oddly proud, I scratched the back of my head—then noticed several subtle gazes fixed on me.
What? Why are you staring?
Want a staring contest?
When I refused to avert my eyes and glared at them one by one, they each turned their heads away in sequence. Especially Neumann, who was clearly suppressing laughter—I didn’t like that one bit.
“Everyone, please look at this.”
Devon’s cool voice restored order to the room. At the center of the table lay a black crystal.
It emitted a sinister aura; merely looking at it stirred negative emotions.
“This is the crystal Caleb spat out when Sir Nathan beat him down.”
Devon continued his report to Valentin.
“When we dissected Caleb’s corpse previously, no such crystal was found.”
“Couldn’t it be something it swallowed by mistake?”
Neumann proposed another possibility.
“As Sir Neumann suggests, it may have swallowed a crystal from the Black Swamp—but something about it feels off.”
Because Devon had sharp instincts, no one dismissed his words lightly. Valentin supported him as well.
“We’ll take the crystal back to the ducal estate.”
In any case, all materials extracted during dissection were subject to investigation. One more black crystal would change little.
After finishing discussions about further reconnaissance, the meeting concluded.
Valentin left the room first, and the knights rose in turn.
Having faced a monster for the first time, I was mentally exhausted and headed to my room faster than anyone.
But my hope for rest was unfortunately dashed.
Knock, knock.
Someone had come looking for me.
Who could it be?
Tilting my head, I opened the door—and as usual, the last person I expected was standing there.
Flustered, I left him outside longer than was polite.
“…Excuse me.”
When I simply stood there without answering, his already pale face turned even whiter. Perhaps because of his red hair, his skin looked especially bloodless.
I finally snapped out of it and stepped aside, allowing George—who was staring intently at my chest—to enter.
Why had he come? Surely he either hated me or feared me—
Probably both.
Hmm.
Pushing aside the unhelpful thought, I awkwardly led him to a seat.
“……”
“……”
Come to think of it, it wasn’t just George who visited.
A silence like death had arrived with him.
Neither of us moved a finger; not even the faint rustle of clothing could be heard.
Bored, I studied George, who looked as though he’d fallen in love with the floor, his head bowed low.
The baby fat not yet gone, the pale skin contrasting with his red hair, the small face packed with delicate features.
As I observed his youthful appearance with interest, his tightly shut mouth finally opened.
“…I came to thank you.”
His voice was softer than a sigh, but in the stillness of the room, I heard it clearly.
He must mean when I sent Caleb flying as it charged at him.
Hoping he wouldn’t feel burdened, I answered lightly.
“It was nothing.”
“……”
Like a pair of malfunctioning robots—no, a man and a beast—our conversation made no progress.
Unable to endure the awkwardness, I let my eyes wander until I spotted a bottle of whiskey chilling in a bucket of ice. It seemed to be a welcome gift prepared by the administration office.
Oh ho.
A triumphant smile spread across my face.
Once alcohol’s involved, tongues loosen naturally.
I sprang to my feet and walked to the table. I could feel his gaze stubbornly following me, but I pretended not to notice as I took out two glasses.
I poured the shimmering amber liquid and handed one to him. George glanced at me.
Take it already.
Don’t ignore my desperate attempt to ease this atmosphere.
When I held the glass firmly in place, he reluctantly accepted it.
Squeezing his eyes shut, he downed it in one go—like a knight bracing himself before entering a battlefield.
One glass. Two. Three.
Though I hadn’t urged him, George poured and drank three in a row. Then he rested his elbows on his knees and lowered his head deeply.
Is he drunk?
Everything’s best in moderation.
Just as I was about to ask if he was alright, I heard a sniffle.
“…Hk.”
A tear fell from George’s eye, leaving a dark stain on the wooden floor.
Is he crying?
My eyes widened in shock.
Meanwhile, the sobs only grew louder. Once the floodgates opened, he couldn’t seem to stop.
I wanted to firmly lift his head and wipe his face with a tissue, but afraid of startling him, I timidly placed a wad of tissues on his thigh instead.
“Th-thank… you… hic…!”
Before long, George’s shoulders began to shake as he hiccupped between sobs.
He’s practically dancing with his shoulders.
Afraid he might choke from crying so hard, I cautiously perched beside him and began to rub his back.
More carefully than handling a raw egg—barely brushing against him.
George was already sensitive about monsters; I didn’t know how he’d react to my touch, so I treated him like a newborn infant.
“Hic…! Hic! Waaah!!”
He burst into even louder tears.
