Volume 2 Chapter 50: The Hunter and the Prey
"Skadi?"
Seeing the girl on top of him, Garde's first reaction was to assume he was looking at Laurentina's companion—the Abyssal Hunter known as Skadi.
But he quickly realized—
"No, you're not Skadi."
The silver-haired girl in the red dress sat atop him. The room was dark, the only source of light being the moonlight filtering in through the window. Under its soft glow, Garde gazed at the girl sitting on him.
"That's right. I am not her."
The girl's lips curled into a small smile.
She had the exact same appearance as Skadi, yet the feeling she gave off was completely different.
Skadi had always seemed a bit... dense. But this girl—
This girl gave off the impression of a motherly figure, someone who could embrace and accept all things.
"I have borrowed Ishar'mla's current form," the girl said softly. "You may think of me as her. I am her—but she has yet to become me."
A gentle smile spread across her face, so pure and serene that, for a moment, Garde forgot—
The being on top of him was not human.
She was a Seaborn.
For now, she referred to herself as Ishar'mla.
The girl's slender fingers traced across Garde's chest. As she opened her mouth, red lines began to spread from her body, weaving and undulating through the air.
Garde suddenly felt as if he had sunk into the ocean's depths, deeper than the eye could see.
He could see schools of fish swimming past, and he could feel the Seaborn's shared consciousness, stretching across the abyss like an enormous, unseen hand, pulling him down into the depths.
The light above him grew more distant.
Behind him—only an endless abyss.
If Garde were to turn around, he would see—
Pairs of crimson eyes, blinking awake in the darkness, staring at him with anticipation.
Then—
A golden light burst forth from Garde's body.
The power of Ascension tore through the Seaborn's shared consciousness—an entity a thousand times more terrifying than even the most horrifying nightmare.
And then—
Garde was back.
The small, cramped room of the inn.
He was lying there, staring up at the Seaborn girl sitting on him, her hand still resting against his chest.
Garde stared at Ishar'mla.
And Ishar'mla stared back at him.
Then, she spoke.
"Hunter, please mate with me."
"…What the hell was that just now?" Garde asked, ignoring her words.
"You… saw us?"
There was a hint of confusion in Ishar'mla's gaze.
She hadn't actually done anything—and yet, Garde had seen her.
Seen her and her kin.
Anyone with a weaker will would have been assimilated immediately.
But nothing had happened to Garde.
Ishar'mla had once considered turning him into her kin.
As a manifestation of the Seaborn's collective will, she possessed the ability to assimilate other lifeforms, turning them into her own bloodline.
Or rather—
Any being that consumed Seaborn blood would, in the end, become one of them.
And yet—
Ishar'mla knew she couldn't do it.
If she could assimilate Garde—
Then why would she have come here personally?
She smiled softly, gazing down at him with her warm, maternal expression.
"Hunter, please give me your seed."
Her red eyes gleamed with expectation.
"We can become one."
"You can join us."
"You can become a part of us—become my kin."
If she could obtain his seed—
If she could use it to evolve her species—
Then even the things she couldn't do before might become possible.
She was the will of the Seaborn.
But the Seaborn's will was not made up of mindless monsters alone.
It also contained the Abyssal Hunters—her scaleless kin.
It was from the Abyssal Hunters that she had learned how to think.
From them, she had developed the idea of obtaining Garde's seed to further the evolution of her species.
Now, she had taken the form that the Hunter desired—
So why was he still refusing to give her his seed?
Ishar'mla gazed at Garde, her pure and innocent eyes making him feel a twinge of guilt.
He had never imagined that the Seaborn's god would actually take the form of a white-haired, red-eyed beauty just to seek him out.
But—
He could not give Ishar'mla his seed.
He dared not risk what might happen if the Seaborn acquired his genes.
So—
"I'm sorry."
Garde lifted his head and looked at Ishar'mla.
"I can't give you my seed right now."
"Why?"
"Because I don't like you!"
Garde averted his gaze, lying through his teeth.
If Ishar'mla weren't a Seaborn, he would have been swayed without a doubt.
Her appearance and personality—
Everything about her current form struck directly at his heart.
He admitted—he was weak to this type.
Even though he already had three wives, if he encountered someone who was his type, his heart would still flutter a little.
Who could resist a white-haired, red-eyed beauty with a gentle personality, actively throwing herself at him?
But—
No.
He wouldn't let his lower instincts control his mind.
"I don't understand."
Ishar'mla shook her head.
She didn't comprehend what it meant to "like" someone.
Why did the Hunter have to like her in order to give her his seed?
She had never lacked patience—
But when it came to things she couldn't understand, she found it difficult to be patient.
Garde suddenly felt a sense of unease as he noticed something.
From the window Ishar'mla entered through, a red fungal carpet was slowly creeping towards him.
Eventually—
It reached Ishar'mla's hand.
She gently brushed her palm across the fungal surface.
She wasn't thinking too deeply about anything.
She simply wanted to obtain the key to evolution for her kin—from Garde's body.
She had already taken on the form of a white-haired, red-eyed girl.
But—
What if even this wasn't enough?
She had considered this possibility.
She had come prepared.
Garde was strong.
He was the Hunter.
They were the Prey.
But Garde was alone—
And she…
Outside, under the moonlit night, the small town was eerily silent.
One large and one small moon hung high in the sky.
A drunken man, still holding a bottle of alcohol, staggered out of a tavern.
Suddenly—
At the edge of the horizon, a faint red glow appeared.
The drunkard rubbed his eyes, thinking he was seeing things.
But in the next moment—
A red fungal carpet surged into town, spreading from the outskirts and advancing inward at an alarming speed.
It ignored the stumbling drunkard in the street—
And in an instant, the entire town was engulfed.
"W-what's going on?!"
The drunkard sobered up instantly, scrambling back toward the tavern.
"S-something's wrong! Everyone, look outside!"
Back in the inn, Ishar'mla still sat atop Garde, her expression just as gentle as before.
"Hunter, please give me your seed."
She spoke the same words—
But this time, her tone was not a request.
It was a command.
Even though she still called him "Hunter"—
Right now—
Ishar'mla was the true Hunter.
The Seaborn would do anything to survive.
And she was no exception.
Now—
Her kin had become an extension of her body.
Her fingers slowly moved downward.
She knew where the seed was.
If the Hunter wouldn't give it to her—
She would take it herself.
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