The Ecology of Monsters Is Completely Different from That of Ordinary Creatures.
They are tenacious enough to survive even with their hearts pierced.
They do not require moisture at all, and while they do need nourishment, they can endure starvation for an extended period.
However, they almost never possess true intellect and are extremely driven by their desires.
Although they can survive months without food, even a few hours of hunger can make them lose self-control and go on a rampage.
Hans glanced sideways at the girl walking behind him.
“What?”
“……Nothing.”
Alje seemed the same as always.
Well, as “always” as a few days of acquaintance could be.
She hadn’t suddenly revealed any monstrous nature, and she still spoke clearly, just like a human.
The only noticeable change was the small protrusions emerging from around her mouth.
She had groaned and tried to push them back in several times, but it seemed they wouldn’t go away.
Hans didn’t bother to confirm whether this was an inherent flaw of mimicry-type monsters or simply a sign of Alje’s lack of self-control due to her young age.
He wasn’t a monster researcher, and this wasn’t the time for that.
“Should I try shouting again?”
“Go ahead.”
It was a routine they had already repeated several times.
As they walked, Alje would let out a massive roar to attract attention, but unfortunately, no one was around to hear her cries.
Hans blocked his ears and endured the tingling sensation.
When he removed the makeshift earplugs he had crafted, a chilling murmur reached his ears.
“Shouting so much is making me even hungrier.”
“…”
He needed to figure something out—before Alje’s patience ran out.
Were the protrusions growing longer?
Or was his anxiety making him imagine things?
Hans quickened his pace.
Of course, he couldn’t go too fast, as he still needed to conserve his strength.
Besides, a complaint immediately came from behind.
“Why are you suddenly running? My legs hurt.”
“Your legs hurt?”
“Yeah. We’ve been walking for so long.”
Given her voice’s sheer volume, he had assumed her physical capabilities were beyond human limits.
But hearing her say this made things confusing.
Despite his worries, Hans obediently carried Alje on his back.
He was certain that whether she attacked him now or later, it wouldn’t make much of a difference—there was no escaping a monster that could devour even the swift and elusive three-armed giants in a single bite.
The warmth and texture of her body were now so familiar that they no longer fazed him.
Alje, too, seemed comfortable with his hands supporting her legs and leaned against his back drowsily.
They continued walking aimlessly for quite some time.
Hans’s legs were beginning to ache, and the small protrusions near Alje’s mouth had noticeably grown longer, pricking against his skin.
Then, suddenly—Alje perked up as if sensing something and leaped off his back.
To Hans’s surprise, she displayed an inhuman level of agility in her jump.
“What is it?”
“I can feel it!”
Alje excitedly tried to trot off somewhere, but Hans grabbed her by the scruff of her neck.
“What exactly do you feel?”
“Hmm… It’s hard to explain. It’s like a fragrant stench. Hmm… Oh! It’s the same as when I found that arm!”
This was turning into one problem after another.
The small protrusions in her mouth had now grown to about the length of two and a half finger joints.
And now, a new danger had emerged.
“Then we need to be careful. Do you remember what that arm did to you?”
“Huh? …Oh!”
She blinked innocently, as if she truly had forgotten, then patted her chest confidently.
“Don’t worry! I’ll protect you, mister. So that the evil witch can’t touch you!”
“That’s very reassuring.”
Hans still vividly remembered how she had recklessly approached the witch’s arm—only to nearly get obliterated by a burst of light.
No matter how resilient monsters were, there was no way one could survive losing 70% of its body.
If that were possible, monsters would have taken over the world by now.
“Still, it’s best if we don’t have to fight at all. Let’s take a different route.”
“Okay! Hyaa!”
Ignoring Alje as she playfully tugged at his hair, Hans turned in the opposite direction.
He couldn’t see anything in this darkness, but since they had no set destination anyway, there was no harm in listening to her.
Though he had tried to maintain a straight path, it was nearly impossible to stay oriented in this environment.
Their direction had likely drifted long ago.
“Hmph. Why aren’t you going the way I’m pulling?”
“Because I’m not a horse.”
“Otot!”
At least their footprints were left behind on the thick layer of corpses, so they weren’t just walking in circles.
Probably.
“Still, mister… You really shouldn’t go that way.”
“…What’s there?”
“Not what’s there.”
Her tone was so casual that it took Hans a moment to grasp her meaning.
“The scent from earlier… It’s getting closer from that direction.”
“…What?”
He had been sure they were avoiding it.
Either his sense of direction had failed, or—Whatever was out there wasn’t just sitting still like the witch’s arm.
It was actively pursuing them.
And it was unlikely that its intentions were friendly.
“Hold on tight.”
“Eek!”
Hans abruptly changed direction and started running.
He had managed to take down one of them before, only because their attacks were so simple and predictable—but even then, he had barely survived.
The easiest way to overcome a crisis or a formidable enemy was to avoid confrontation altogether.
“Mister, are we running away right now?”
“Yeah, huff, pretty much. Why?”
“I don’t think it’ll work.”
The moment Hans felt a wave of searing heat surge from behind, he hurled Alje forward and rolled to the side.
A breath of fire, reminiscent of a dragon’s, scorched the spot where he had just been.
Fwoooosh!
“It’s already right behind us.”
“You could’ve mentioned that a bit sooner. Cough!”
Choking on thick, black smoke, Hans pushed himself up.
Alje was mumbling something from a distance, but he couldn’t make out the words.
He had drawn his sword, but the blade was now warped and melted, resembling a crude iron club more than a weapon.
The handle, now rough and uneven, was barely usable.
Still, it was better than fighting barehanded.
He held the sword up, pointing it ahead.
Through the scattering embers, their pursuer finally revealed itself.
“Oh, come on.”
It was an eye.
A single, disembodied eyeball floating in the air, with tattered optic nerves dangling like a tattered cloak.
Despite the surrounding darkness, its black pupil stood out vividly, glowing with embers of fire.
Hans thought grimly to himself.
No wonder we couldn’t escape.
How am I supposed to outrun something that flies while I’m stuck on foot?
Whether due to its incomplete form or some inherent trait of the witch, the eye’s attacks had a clear warning sign.
Waves of heat would radiate, distorting the air before the flames erupted.
Hans dove to the side just as another burst of fire scorched the ground where he had stood.
Tumbling across the charred earth, he lost his grip on his sword and ended up with bits of corpses in his mouth.
He spat them out with disgust while scanning for a way out.
But the situation was dire.
Dodging the attacks wasn’t too difficult, and the eye was likely weaker than the severed arm he had encountered earlier.
But even if he could crush the eyeball with his bare hands, getting close to it was impossible.
The superheated air brushed against his cheek.
The flames, once scattered wildly, had begun to spread onto the corpses, feeding on the dried flesh like a forest fire.
Whenever the blaze grew too large, some unknown force would suddenly snuff it out, as if blowing out a candle.
Fwoosh—But the eye had no such restraint.
It spewed fire indiscriminately, filling the air with blistering heat.
Yet, if the witch’s own magic could harm her, she wouldn’t have gained such notoriety in the first place.
Hans backpedaled, but the flames licked at his heels faster than he could retreat.
Smoke billowed, the heat shimmered in the air, and his head began to spin.
Still, he whipped his head back and forth, searching for something.
He wasn’t looking for the witch’s eye.
That thing was trapped in a ring of fire he had no hope of crossing.
Where’s Alje?
He needed to run.
Yet, something made him hesitate.
Even if she was a monster, there was no way she could survive this inferno.
He had already done his part—throwing her out of harm’s way had given her a chance to escape twice.
That was more than enough.
No, it was absurd to even consider “doing his part” for a monster.
Even if Alje were human, the logical choice in this situation was to abandon her and flee.
His head grew lighter, his limbs heavier, and the blistering heat seared his skin.
Yet, Hans still couldn’t bring himself to turn and run.
Because of that soft, absentminded humming that had once made him instinctively listen.