The Reincarnated Demon King Can’t Escape~ When I Reincarnated 1000 Years Later, My Yandere Heroines Were Waiting for Me~ - Chapter 7

The Silver Wolf Won’t Leave (2)

Let’s talk about something from a little while back.

One thousand years ago. On a snowy mountain.

It happened on my way back from inspecting my territory alone. The blizzard had completely whited out my vision, and just as the feeling beneath my feet started to fade—I found a small shadow in the snow.

It was a beastman child.

Her silver fur was frozen stiff, and there was barely any body heat left in her. One of her ears was torn right from the base. Whether it was a fight within her pack or a wound left by an outside enemy, if I left her like this, she would die either way.

The exact moment I stretched out my hand—the young beastman snapped her eyes wide open.

Squeezing out every last bit of her remaining strength, her small fangs sank deeply into the back of my hand.
Red blood drops onto the white snow.

The young beastman doesn’t let go with her fangs. What lived inside those amber eyes was fear and wariness—and a wild pride that said if she was going to get killed, she would at least deal a counter-blow.

I didn’t pull my hand back.
While letting the blood flow, I picked up the young beastman with my free hand.

“If you have the energy to bite, you aren’t going to die.”

I don’t pack any anger into it. I don’t show a single sign of caring about the pain either.
The exact moment she heard that voice—the strength suddenly drained from the young beastman’s fangs.

I brought her back to the castle, wrapped her in a blanket in front of the fireplace, and gave her food.
At first, the young beastman only put the food in her mouth during the gaps when my back was turned. She would absolutely never touch it right in front of me. Even so, as the days passed, the distance between us closed up little by little.

A few days later. For the first time, she touches her food right in front of my eyes. While chewing the meat with her small mouth, she glances over here to check on me. Her wariness is starting to turn into just a little bit of curiosity.

“What’s your name?”

I asked casually. I had heard that beastmen call each other by the names of their packs, so I figured she would have some kind of name.

The young beastman stops chewing. For the first time since meeting me, she opens her mouth on her own initiative.

“…No name.”

Short. But that was the very first word this child let out.

A child driven away from their pack has no name. I have heard that in beastman society, someone who doesn’t hold a name is the exact same as someone who doesn’t exist.

After thinking for a bit, I told her.

“Lycolegis. That’s your name.”

The young beastman’s eyes snap wide open.

“The Silver Wolf King. That suits you perfectly.”

The exact moment she received her name—her tail, which had stayed completely still while hanging down toward the ground until then, wagged for the first time in her life. Small. Hesitantly. But definitely.

That is my meeting with Lyco.

By the way—the story about her biting me when we first met is an absolute forbidden phrase in front of Lyco.

What happens if I accidentally touch upon it?
First, she starts hyperventilating. Next, she throws herself into a full prostrate bow on the floor. Then, she doesn’t move for several hours.
Apparently, the fact that she bared her fangs and drew blood from her beloved master has turned into a trauma that won’t disappear for her.

If it was just up to this point, it would still be fine. The problem is what comes after.

Whenever I try to move away from Lyco while she is in her prostrate bow mode, she chases after me at high speed by doing a low military crawl while keeping her arms and legs completely folded in. Pushing her forehead against the floor, she charges forward like she is slithering across the earth.

To put it mildly, it looks like a giant bug.
Eerie. Scary. And what’s more, she catches up to me at super speed.

She did it to me three times in my past life. I don’t want to have it done to me ever again.

—

After school.

The students are heading home. The classroom gets emptier as one person after another leaves.
Lyco doesn’t move from my side. Completely naturally. As if it’s the only fixed position for her in the entire world.

Just the two of us in the classroom.
The evening sun is shining through the window. The orange light dyed Lyco’s silver hair in faint tints.

Ever since yesterday’s reunion, there is something I have wanted to ask all along.

“Lyco. Can I ask you one thing?”

“What?”

“The magic for reincarnation… Chrono-Dimension Transfer was something I developed completely on my own, and I shouldn’t have taught it to anyone. How did you guys come to this era?”

A question right at the core.
One thousand years ago, I sent only my soul flying to the future at the moment of my death. I didn’t pass that forbidden art to anyone. Despite that, the three of them are here. And what’s more, holding young bodies.

Lyco stays quiet for a bit.
Her silver ears slowly flatten down. Whether she is choosing her words, or—measuring how much she should talk.

“…Master said let’s meet again. So I came. That’s all.”

That isn’t an answer. Just as I thought there is no way she doesn’t know—Lyco suddenly took my hand.

With both hands. As if gently wrapping around it.
She brings it close to her nose.

She lets out a small sniffing sound.

Closing her eyes, she breathes in deeply. Using her beastman sense of smell—as if confirming my scent.

“Master’s scent. The same.”

While keeping her eyes closed, her voice trembles.

“Even after a thousand years pass… it’s the same.”

Her tail is wagging so violently it looks like it might snap off. Her silver ears are flattened flat, her eyebrows are lowered, and the tip of her nose is red. A face holding back tears. She kept searching for this scent for a thousand years and finally found it—that was the kind of way it was shaking.

“…We are in a classroom, so this is a little bit embarrassing, you know.”

Lyco lifts her face up. Tilting her head just a little bit—

“Then, Master can do it too.”

“Do what?”

“Fluff-fluff.”

—

Fluff-fluff.

This was a secret ritual that existed only between me and Lyco one thousand years ago.
It might sound like an exaggeration, but to me, it was a matter of importance that rivaled national politics.

Beastmen can change their “beast level” at will. Normal Lyco is just human-type with silver ears and a tail, but when she pulls up her stage, her form changes.

The classifications according to Lyco’s naming are as follows:

“Half-Fluff”—The human form stays exactly as it is. The outline of her body doesn’t change. But all of the skin from her neck down gets covered in fluffy silver fur. All the way to the fingertips of her hands, she gets wrapped in soft fur, and it feels amazingly good when you touch it.

“Full-Fluff”—A complete wolf that walks on four legs. Body height around two meters. This is way past the level of an extra-large dog. She plays around with you, but the size is a completely different order of mass.

And only when we were completely alone, Lyco would change her beast level and act spoiled toward me sometimes.

“Because it’s been a thousand years—”

Before she could finish saying it, Lyco’s body was already starting to change.

From her neckline, silver fur spreads out thick and fast. When I roll up the sleeves of her uniform, all the exposed skin is covered in soft silver fur.

Half-Fluff.

While the lines of her body stay as a slender girl, she has a fluffy silver coat of fur. Only her face is the usual Lyco, and from her neck down, she is dyed in the softness of a silver wolf. The fur catching the evening sun shines in a faint golden color.

And without a single bit of hesitation, Lyco hugged me tightly.
The body heat coming through the fur. Warm. Soft. The exact same touch as a thousand years ago.

“Because it’s been a thousand years, you can do lots of fluff-fluff, okay?”

Looking up at me. Her amber eyes are wet with tears. Her tail is wagging with a loud buzz.

I had thought she was beautiful since before. It was the same one thousand years ago. But the Lyco from back then had a face that was more like a fierce warrior, if anything. Though she was small, she was a female warrior of the silver wolf who ran through countless battlefields and slaughtered hundreds of enemies.

The Lyco right now has the face of a teenage girl, holding out a form that is completely fluffy all over.

Was this girl always this cute?

My reason and my instinct settled things in an instant—and I sank both hands into the silver fur. With all my strength.

If I stroke her back, the silver fur slips between my fingers. Smoother than silk, warmer than cotton. If I let my arms slide along, the fluffy feeling wraps around my palms. The exact same scent as a thousand years ago. The warmth. The touch. Every single thing hasn’t changed.

Lyco narrows her eyes like it feels really good. From the depths of her throat—a low purring sound leaks out. A sound that comes out when a beastman feels safe. It’s close to a cat’s purr.

A fluff-fluff from across a thousand years.

The evening sun is shining into the classroom. Inside the orange light, the silver fur shines like gold, and Lyco’s body drains its strength little by little inside my arms. Purr. Purr. Her throat keeps sounding, and her tail is wagging slowly and happily.

A time just for the two of us, shown to nobody else.
A fluff-fluff time that doesn’t change one thousand years ago or one thousand years later.

Suddenly—the air changed.

A presence outside the classroom door.

From the gap of the door that was opened slightly, a gentle—but definitely heated voice echoes.

“Improper heterosexual association is forbidden at school, you know?”

My spine froze. My entire desire for fluff-fluff blows away in an instant.

When I look back, Big Sister As is standing on the other side of the door. She is still wearing her mask as a teacher—but her eyes aren’t smiling. Deep inside the eyes that are maintaining only the shape of a smile, a whole thousand years’ worth of emotions is swirling around.

“Also, Miss Lyco.”

Her voice gets a stage softer. By the exact amount it got softer—it’s scary.

“It’s fine to talk, but stealing a march is… forbidden, okay?”

Inside that last “okay,” a clear pressure is riding along.
The window glass of the classroom shook just from that aura alone. The glass shouldn’t be guilty of anything, right?

While staying in her fluff-fluff state, Lyco pokes only her face out from inside my arms and looks at Big Sister As.

The Beast King and the Dragon Princess. The tension between the two of them that was repeated countless times since a thousand years ago. This setup of flying sparks across me is something I have seen many times in my past life too.

“This world is survival of the fittest.”

Lyco’s mouth—formed the shape of a smile for just a tiny bit.
A winner’s composure shown by the usually expressionless Lyco.
Whether it’s stealing a march or whatever else, the one inside Master’s arms at this exact moment is herself. It looks like that fact is giving Lyco an overwhelming amount of composure.

“A loser’s howling. Awooo.”

Her taunting performance level is high. That’s a skill she didn’t have in her past life. Where did she acquire it over the thousand years?

The highlight disappeared from Big Sister As’s eyes.

This is bad.

When I hurriedly tried to let go of Lyco—the highlight has disappeared on this one’s side too.

This is way too bad.

The shaking of the window glass got bigger. If it breaks, who is going to pay for it? The teacher, Big Sister As? No, this isn’t the time for that right now.

…Peace is far away, huh.