Boom! The last monster collapsed, sending up a small cloud of dust.
As I squinted to avoid the tiny airborne particles fluttering in the wind, Leonardo stretched out his hand in front of me, shielding me from the dust. The deep scent of metal and leather, along with the sharp tang of blood, wafted toward me.
Above the shadow cast by his large hand, glowing letters formed, appearing brighter than usual. A message etched itself smoothly, like a brushstroke made without hesitation. It was from Sub-writer 1.
[Sub-writer 1: You look like a scruffy little stray kitten that hasn't even had a decent meal.][Sub-writer 1: Though, I suppose you're a little less agile than a cat.]
Are they trying to mess with me?
Don't hold me to the standards of this fantasy world. By 21st-century standards, I'm actually doing pretty well.
If I could, I'd submit some solid evidence—like the fact that I can now lift Vittorio with ease, even though he's gotten noticeably heavier and a full handspan taller.
Officially participating in battle for the first time, Vittorio had pulled his weight impressively. The moment the dust settled, he came running straight to us. He looked composed, but I noticed his fingers clenching and unclenching, betraying his lingering nerves.
I gave Leonardo's arm a few reassuring pats to signal that everything was fine, then pulled the kid into an embrace. The warmth of his solid weight spread through me.
Hesitation. A small movement. He buried his face in my chest.
"You're not hurt, are you?"
A slight nod. His soft hair brushed against my bare skin, tickling me. I chuckled, swayed a little, then let out a dry cough. Immediately, Leonardo wrapped his arm around my shoulders.
"Straight to the barracks."
Seriously? The battle had just ended, and we hadn't even scouted a spot to set up camp yet. Besides, we had already agreed on this!
'Hey, Leo. You do remember this is an act, right? The royal side put spies on me, so I'm supposed to look… less impressive. You know, weaker.'
「Ah.」
…Honestly, sometimes he's just—no, never mind. If I want to make sure he doesn't get scammed someday, I'd better stick close to him. The minor issue here is that the person deceiving Leonardo the most… is me.
The excuse I fed him was a carefully balanced mix of truth and fabrication. I couldn't exactly tell him that Godric was actually Sub-writer 1 or that the man had ways to spy on us in secret. So, I adjusted the story—hence the claim that King Godric had sent people to keep an eye on me.
Still, the way Leonardo believes me so readily is a bit… unsettling.
Meanwhile, Duke Marchez was already busy rummaging around the monster's corpse. He poked the dead beast with his dragonbone sword, twisted its wings back and forth like he was examining a fine specimen, and after thoroughly enjoying himself, declared:
"The damage isn't too severe. We should take it with us."
At his command, the knights began tying ropes around the carcass, preparing to drag it away. Watching them, I recalled the quest details—fifty monsters in total.
The expedition was set to last ten days. A simple calculation meant that we'd be fighting at this scale every single day.
I already felt exhausted just thinking about it.
'But if I want to keep Godric's attention fixed on me while playing the frail act, I need events to happen frequently enough to make it convincing.'
[Sub-writer 1: Looks like I'll need to adjust the difficulty.]
I shot a glance at Godric, who muttered to himself like a game developer regretting a botched balance patch.
It seemed my masterful display of frailty had tipped the scales in his mind—between pushing Leovald through hardship and maintaining an appropriate challenge level.
Yeah, no way he'd want to lose Leovald's body and the original manuscript in one careless mistake. A guy who never showed the slightest interest in people was now reconsidering my well-being.
In the end,
"It's getting dark. We should make camp for the night. No need to push ourselves too hard on the first day."
The journey to the Dragon's Tail had already taken considerable time, and with a battle on top of that, the sun was beginning to set. The hunting squad decided to leave the steep incline behind and set up camp in a clearing within the forest. A small river ran nearby, its surface thinly iced over, but it was enough to wash off the dust.
I cast a glance at Duke Marchez, who was enthusiastically overseeing the dissection process, then reached for the cold water—only to be stopped.
"The water's too cold. You need to sterilize it first—use boiled water."
[Sub-writer 1: Given your condition, wouldn't it be best to follow his advice?]
And at that moment, I realized—
There was now one more person ready to make a fuss over the smallest scratch.
I ignored Godric's grumbling about the lack of attendants while Leonardo went off to boil water. Not that it mattered if we had attendants. That guy wouldn't let anyone else handle things anyway—he only knew how to do things himself.
It was also painfully obvious that he was oblivious to the stunned stares of the Marchez' knights as they watched the second son of a count personally chopping firewood for the campfire.
The knights from House Ertinez didn't even bat an eye; they'd long since grown used to Leonardo's servant-like tendencies. I was sure the Marchez' men would adapt soon enough.
After all, they followed a rather eccentric duke themselves. Compared to a nobleman obsessed with dissecting monsters as a hobby, Leonardo's work ethic wasn't that unusual.
"Excuse me, could I have a moment of your time?"
Just then, Duke Marchez peeked out from behind the monster's corpse and gestured for me to come over. I glanced at Leonardo—who was mechanically stacking firewood like some kind of tireless machine—before making my way toward the duke.
He was wearing some rather peculiar protective gear: thick gloves made from monster hide and a pair of goggles that gleamed like the compound eyes of an insect. They made him look like he belonged to an entirely different genre.
"What is it?"
"I overheard something during the battle—you seem to know quite a lot about monsters."
Memories flashed through my mind—warnings I'd shouted about the bird-beast's traits and weak points. I had hoped to blend into the anonymity of the chaos, but apparently, Leonardo wasn't the only one paying close attention.
Duke Marchez, unable to hide his interest, leaned in enthusiastically.
"Have there been similar monster colonies in the south? The creatures of the Vernis Mountains are known for their high mutation rates, which makes research on them rather scarce. If you have insight into this field, then please—"
From not too far away, the fake duke let out a long sigh. He looked exhausted.
I suddenly recalled that the quest wasn't just about supplying Duke Marchez with monster carcasses. There had also been something about experiments related to the dragonbone sword. Which meant I'd have to get involved in some capacity.
"Hmm. Actually, I once read a book where someone had researched monsters in great depth. At the time, I assumed it was all just imaginative speculation, but it was so fascinating that I read it multiple times. Who would've thought it was real?"
I joked about how coincidences never seemed to be just coincidences, but Godric, ever the critic, threw in a comment about how brazen I was. He was also still using the message window like a private chat. Seriously, he needs to stop.
Since this was a world personally crafted by Sub-writer 1, the surveillance felt especially blatant. He didn't even bother pretending not to watch everything.
'Does he have no restrictions?'
At the very least… he seemed unaware of what had happened between the lines during the intermission. For now, I needed to keep his gaze fixed here. But sooner or later, I'd have to figure out a way to cut off that annoying observer.
A dull headache throbbed at my temples, and I rubbed them absently. Meanwhile, Duke Marchez' excited voice cut through my thoughts.
"A book like that existed? Incredible. It seems there was someone out there with the same goals as me."
"The same goals?"
"It's a personal ambition of mine—I want to compile a complete encyclopedia of monsters one day. This notebook is part of that effort. When I was younger, I dreamed of travelling the world myself, but my family was firmly against it…"
Considering he was the heir to House Marchez, of course they had opposed it.
"In any case, I was never particularly skilled at hunting or combat, so I would have had to hire someone eventually."
At that, my hand paused for a brief moment.
I thought about the Monster Encyclopedia and Duke Marchez' role in all this—and then it hit me.
Unlike the
Leovald was a pragmatic leader who ran his forces efficiently. It was entirely possible that he had formed an alliance with the young Marchez—someone with an intense interest in monster research.
Right now, they were working together for revenge against the king, but in the original manuscript, their partnership might have been formed for a completely different reason: to study monsters. Either way, Leovald would have needed allies beyond just House Ertinez.
'And maybe the result of that partnership was the Monster Encyclopedia itself.'
That would explain why this aspect of the story felt so drastically different from the usual way the script delivered information.
Monsters, at their core, were just props—set pieces for the stage. Yet someone had gone out of their way to meticulously detail their ecology, habitats, weaknesses, and even potential uses.
A well-developed setting was a good thing, sure. But overly detailed worldbuilding? That was just exhausting. And the main author had never struck me as the type to be that obsessed with monsters.
As I thought back to when I first opened the
Duke Marchez asked urgently.
"Incredible. Do you remember the author of that book?"
'You do realize it's probably you, right?'
Of course, I couldn't say that out loud, so I cleared my throat and shook my head.
"Do you still have it? Could I possibly borrow it for a while…?"
"Unfortunately, it was lost when my inn burned down. Ah, I haven't mentioned it yet, have I? I used to run an inn."
"What a terrible loss."
Duke Marchez muttered gloomily, genuinely disappointed. He then picked up a dissection knife and asked if I could at least share any parts of the book I remembered.
"By the way, may I ask what caused the fire? If it was large enough to destroy an entire inn, it must have been more than a minor accident."
I hesitated, considering how to respond.
"Uh…"
And at that precise moment—
The knights of House Ertinez suddenly began coughing violently, as if they were all on the verge of choking to death. It was so abrupt and synchronized that I nearly jumped, half-wondering if some plague had broken out.
"Young…cough! Master! Call…ahem…for reinforcements—cough cough!"
"I assume…cough! Should we stop this too? Ahem!"
That was… quite the unique way to cough.