It might sound paradoxical, but if Alje had been naked, Hans’s instincts would have been stopped at the right moment.
Above all, there would have been undeniable signs that the girl was absolutely not human.
But now, the way she was both subtly concealed and revealed left no room for doubt—there was no way she wasn’t human.
Except for that inhuman beauty of hers.
Hans was no fool.
Having lived as a hunter, he was anything but oblivious.
“Gulp.”
His throat moved involuntarily.
The sweetest fruit was right within reach, just waiting to be plucked.
The scent that seeped into his senses was intoxicatingly thick.
When they first met, it hadn’t been like this at all.
Like a flower blooming in full glory at the right time—or, perhaps, something else entirely.
Most of the courtesans one could embrace in the labyrinth were men, and though the price was twice as high, the state of the female prostitutes, apart from the number of holes they possessed, was equally wretched.
Like the gatherers, those who did not resist the labyrinth’s poison and merely lived their pitiful lives in Heimvig found their bodies slowly wasting away.
Under such circumstances, a girl who was both healthy and astonishingly beautiful would cause a ripple effect beyond imagination.
Even under the strict watch of the witches in Heimvig, it was a miracle that only this many assailants had come after her.
“Are you hesitating?”
If so, then perhaps the brilliant restraint Hans was currently displaying deserved to be called a miracle as well.
Of course, compared to others in the labyrinth, Hans was in a much better position.
He was more attached to his own life than to the idea of passing on his lineage, and besides, he had a rather suitable partner, didn’t he?
Gretel’s figure, frozen in time, was far from voluptuous like Alje’s, but her beauty was undeniable.
No, even the fact that her skin wasn’t layered with grime and her hair wasn’t crawling with lice was already a blessing.
More than anything, Gretel wasn’t just fiery in temperament—she was physically intense as well.
Naturally, her presence had served as the greatest dam holding back Hans’s desires.
“Alje, Alje…”
“Hans oppa.”
But no one—not even a self-castrated Guardian Knight—could suppress their desires forever.
Why should he refuse?
Why should he push her away?
His mind, feverish as if struck by an illness, reduced the voice of reason to an unintelligible static.
Hans’s hand, moving on its own, hesitated as it reached for the barely loosened folds of Alje’s clothes.
The moment he saw the hole in her chest, he would come to his senses.
As reason and desire clashed, leaving Hans frozen like a broken machine, Alje gazed up at him with eyes that remained pure yet carried a slightly different glimmer than before.
The girl’s knowledge was fragmented.
Her experiences, whitened and erased in patches by the effects of the saintflower’s medicine, allowed her only to clumsily mimic what she barely understood.
But Alje knew.
“It’s okay if you hurt me.”
“…”
“If that’s what you want, oppa.”
In fairy tales, those who loved each other were united.
In reality, within the labyrinth, love had long been buried beneath the mud and pools of blood.
Yet, even so, those who sought to unleash their desires upon monsters were always condemned.
Love was a privilege reserved solely for humans.
To love someone was to affirm, with unwavering certainty, that they were human.
At least, in the narrow world of a girl who had never known anything beyond her cage and an imitation monster born through parthenogenesis, that was the truth.
“Actually… I think I want it too.”
A voice mixed with a hint of embarrassment and laughter.
Hans, still frozen, finally parted his lips, as if about to respond.
Too wide.
As if his jaw would dislocate.
His eyes bulged as though they would pop out of their sockets.
Krrk, krrk.
A sickening, misaligned sound echoed—then, gush.
Blood poured from his eyes, nose, and mouth.
Alje stared in shock as the thick, crimson liquid rained down on her.
“…Ahjussi?”
Instead of the man hurting the girl, the monster had hurt the hunter.
It was such an obvious thing that no one had ever considered it.
But monster blood carried poison.
Had he overlooked that?
Or had he thought that a small amount wouldn’t matter?
Either way, he had swallowed both Alje’s blood and Ogaksa’s venom.
Even in trace amounts, it was lethal.
An absurd mistake for a seasoned hunter.
Or perhaps, without even realizing it, he had thought of the girl so deeply as a human that such dangers had never crossed his mind.
Should that be something to mourn—or to celebrate?
She didn’t know what to do, but she had to do something.
“Ahjussi!”
Their situations had reversed.
No, it would be more accurate to say that things had worsened.
Unlike Alje, who possessed the regenerative abilities of a monster, Hans, though strong, was still human.
Unlike Alje, the blood he was coughing up was not just for show.
Furthermore, with Alje’s incomplete knowledge, she could clearly see that Hans’s condition was critical, but she had no way of knowing just how severe it was or what treatment would be appropriate.
Fortunately, the mystery surrounding her was not something that required understanding.
“… …, … … … …♪”
A fragile humming, seemingly on the verge of breaking, continued in faint whispers as it cradled the ailing man.
As light descended and Hans’s pallor eased, Alje uncorked the glass bottle he had entrusted to her and let its contents trickle into his mouth.
His complexion soon grew more peaceful, but there was no sign of him waking.
Placing Hans back onto her lap, Alje took out the cleanest cloth she could find from her bag and gently wiped the blood from his face.
Then, without realizing it, her cherry-like lips parted slightly, and the tip of her tongue flicked out, tasting the blood-soaked fabric.
“Ah.”
It was delicious.
Not an extraordinary taste, but not unpleasant either—just an ordinarily good flavor.
Like a staple food eaten every day, something she could consume for a lifetime without growing tired of, without ever questioning why she ate it.
“No.”
She tossed the crumpled cloth carelessly aside, watching as it rolled beyond the undergrowth and disappeared from sight.
After hastily straightening her disheveled clothes, Alje fell into a brooding silence.
She wanted to stay with him.
With someone who understood her, who accepted her.
But even though Hans had been conflicted, his subconscious had regarded Alje as human.
That very acceptance had led to this negative outcome.
Even if the intent was different, Hans had also assigned a special significance to her.
However, from the start—there was no way a large monster could be poisoned by a lesser one.
Had he recalled that basic fact, Hans wouldn’t have done something so foolish.
Then again, if he were the kind of man who could remain so coldly rational, he wouldn’t have made the mistake of treating a monster as human.
He would have simply driven a blade straight through her heart.
“······.”
Like heavy storm clouds gathering overhead, the girl’s heart felt overcast.
If Alje had been just a little younger, it might have already started to rain.
But instead of sitting down and crying, she carefully laid the man down and rose to her feet.
She had done everything she could for now.
All that remained was to wait for Hans to wake up—and though it wasn’t necessary, there were still things she could do.
After casting one last glance at Hans and confirming that he was still far from waking, Alje plunged into the pit of vipers without a moment’s hesitation.
*
The Ogaksa colony was massive.
The initial onslaught they had faced—the arrow-like barrage—was nothing compared to the full strength of the swarm.
Just as Hans had likened the pit to a mushroom colony when he first peered into it, the Ogaksa buried in the reddish-brown mud were numerous, their horns protruding like grotesque growths.
These small creatures only stirred when prey wandered into their territory.
The moment they detected a foolhardy intruder who didn’t just make noise outside but actually stepped inside, an uncountable number of them erupted from the pit like a school of flying fish.
Driving out intruders was a duty of the swarm.
But devouring prey?
That was an individual right.
Even so, they did not descend into frenzied chaos.
Instead, they moved with uncanny coordination.
And even as the Ogaksa buried their fangs into her flesh, Alje did not so much as flinch.
“Annoying.”
Imitation (mimicry) was about understanding and replicating.
A mimic monster could only assume a human form after consuming a human.
That was the fundamental rule.
Of course, mimics could only copy appearances—they could not replicate the inherent mysteries of saints, witches, or other supernatural beings.
And yet, the range of what a mimic monster could imitate was far broader than most imagined.
“Why didn’t I realize how easy this was?”
A bird does not learn how to flap its wings, nor does a fish learn how to swim.
It simply happens when the time comes.
At this moment, Alje instinctively understood.
The only reason she hadn’t known before was that she had never needed to.
Perfect mimicry required replicating even weaknesses and imperfections.
But if one abandoned artistry and focused purely on practicality.
Then something like this was entirely possible.
The Ogaksa’s venomous fangs slid off the girl’s skin, unable to pierce it.
On the surface, she appeared unchanged, but Alje’s body was now fundamentally different from that of a human.
A simple touch would reveal the truth, and anyone with a keen eye would notice with just a brief observation.
Mimicry was about perfect replication—so by that standard, she had utterly failed.
However, the fangs of the crowned serpents could no longer violate her pristine body.
Just as humans had once fashioned armor by imitating the hides of monsters, now a monster had imitated that armor in turn.
Alje’s arms dangled loosely, her form now resembling a featureless, stitched-together doll rather than a human.
The reason she had never felt the need to do this before, the reason she had never flaunted her monstrous abilities in front of Hans, was simple.
Even in the shape of a human, she would have looked anything but human.
“Hmph.”
Just as Hans had instinctively rejected the sight of a creature that should have died from a fatal wound but instead continued to move, Alje had not wanted to deepen that sense of alienation.
She did not wish to play the role of the monster slain by the knight in a fairy tale.
She wanted to be the princess saved by the prince.
This place was no magnificent enchanted castle, and the man collapsed behind her was far too ragged to be a prince.
But none of that mattered to her, who had once lived a life of wealth and privilege.
After all, a princess didn’t always have to look like one.
Convincing herself of that, anxiously glancing back to check if Hans had woken, repeatedly muttering feeble excuses that she was not being swayed by petty desires.
Alje unleashed a violent dance.
A storm erupted from her small frame, and within its fury, dozens of serpents were torn apart.