Vol 3 Chapter 6 – Boyhood: Late Spring at Age Twelve ・Part 3

When I mentioned that I’d first heard of creatures called “monsters,” Miss Agrippina de Staal was genuinely shocked: “Eh, is it really like that in the countryside…?”

And then she gave me a quick explanation: it seems that monsters are nothing more than the end result of a magical race whose “magical essence” has become excessively amplified.

Magical essence—much like that hidden moon—remains something we don’t exactly understand. However, it is contained within magical power, and when its concentration becomes too high, it causes one to “lose one’s mind,” thereby earning the name magical essence and instilling fear.

It is said that we humans and demi-humans do not accumulate magical essence. We lack the organs that store it, and as our magical power is discharged, the essence is expelled along with it. Somehow, thinking about it oddly reminds me of kidneys and urine…

In contrast, magical races possess the very organs that store this magical essence—and are thus called “magical races”—endowing them with exceptional physical abilities and an innate aptitude for magic. Surely, through ordinary evolution one would never develop an alloy-like skeleton, a metallic skin, or muscle strength that could rival that of an adult man even in a diminutive, childlike body.

Moreover, the higher the concentration of magical essence becomes, the stronger the magical race grows. They become larger, more resilient, and more forceful. If they continue to amass magical essence in pursuit of power, they will eventually reach a critical point.

It is in that critical state that I encountered the form of bandits—no, monsters—whom I had just defeated, writhing in a half-alive, half-dead state.

“Magical essence accumulates when one uses excessive magic, lingers in spiritually tainted places, or continuously comes into contact with the residues of powerful spells. Well, if you behave normally, you rarely hit that critical point; most remain as magical races for their entire lives.”

In more euphemistic terms, in the countryside they call it “going mad.” That way, even if one is defeated, at least they can be mourned as human.

The transformation into a monster due to the accumulation of magical essence is irreversible; once changed, there is no going back. Reason gives way to a loss of moral sense, and one becomes nothing more than a monster that attacks, devours, and multiplies. Consequently, outside the Triple Empire, merely being labeled as a magical race often results in persecution or even being denied recognition as human.

It’s a terrible story. Terrible… simply appalling.

“Do them a favor and let them be. Left as they are, they cause nothing but harm—and there’s no need to let them suffer needlessly.”

After hearing that, I looked down at the monster—its eyes filled with murderous intent and pain. It bared its teeth, and despite losing strength from blood loss, it crawled over in an attempt to kill me. It was clearly not in a sound state of mind.

A soft-hearted protagonist might hesitate at this point, wondering if killing it is truly the right course of action or if there’s any alternative.

But I did not hesitate; I plunged my blade into the medulla of a nearby giant ogre.

There was no one who could profit from keeping it alive. Neither I, nor Miss Agrippina de Staal, nor the local villagers… let alone the being barely clinging to life.

Miss Agrippina de Staal is a lazy, infuriating brute who carries out unspeakable bestial acts without a moment’s hesitation—but when it comes to scholarship and knowledge, she never tells a lie. Since she studied at the Magic Academy, it stands to reason that in this world the irreversible nature of monster transformation has been thoroughly established with evidence and clinical results.

So, what use is it for me, who has not even embarked on the path of magic, to spout such reckless notions?

If that were to save them, fine. But no—they cannot be saved. I can do nothing for those who have lost their sanity as monsters. Moreover, letting them roam free and harm others is the worst of all evils.

I believe that causing harm to others by not doing what one is capable of is the most despicable act. If you lack the strength, that’s understandable; if it’s an unforeseen situation, it’s regrettable—but to knowingly stand by and do nothing is inexcusable. Leaving things unresolved simply to avoid feeling guilty is nothing more than cowardice.

Who can be satisfied when hurt by powerless hypocrisy?

Thus, I calmly did what needed to be done. Perhaps it is more accurate to say that I did what I believed ought to be done. After all, nothing in this world is absolute. Someday, someone might find a way to prevent and even cure monster transformation.

But that time is not now, and I do not possess such a method. Therefore, all I could do was take the best possible measures to minimize the damage.

“How splendid, how splendid. I thought you might hesitate because you’re young, but you truly are wise.”

“…I am deeply honored by your praise.”

Why does this person so deftly goad others? It’s even questionable whether she intends to provoke or not. If it’s the former, it’s downright infuriating; if it’s the latter, it’s even more problematic.

“Well then, it’s harvest time.”

With a light pachin of the finger, a scene of utter carnage unfolded—its crisp sound belying the gruesome spectacle it produced.

The intestines of the fallen monsters burst open.

“Giaaaa!?”

Even I couldn’t help but scream. Just imagine—the bellies of those I had dispatched suddenly split open, revealing grotesque intestines. And this happened with six of them at once.

With a terrible begi-begi sound, the sternum and ribs were forcibly torn apart, exposing the heart. Alongside it, a cluster of ominous, dark crystals shimmered.

“U-uh… wh-what are you doing, all of a sudden?”

This is too much; even for someone with a bit of tolerance for gore as the son of a farmer, it’s over the top. What the hell—seriously, could you give us a break with the suddenness…?

“This is it… Magical races have an organ that stores magical essence right next to their hearts.”

With a grotesque sound that seemed to snap sinews, six stones floated through the air out of nowhere. They spun around in a fantastical manner, yet the thought that they were attached to a heart until moments ago is utterly disturbing—and I wish they would just stop.

“We call them magical crystals. They’re incredibly useful in many ways.”

“Useful, you say…?”

“Because they serve as materials for tools powered by magic.”

When mixed into molten metal, they enhance the affinity for magical power; combined with gems, they improve the quality of focusing devices; and their ability to store magic makes them useful as batteries. Due to their many applications, magical crystals are said to fetch a high price.

“At this size… hmm… I’d say each is worth about 5 libra.”

“5 libra!?”

That means, all together, that’s 30 libra…? Or 30 silver coins…? Huh? Ma…?

No—doesn’t that make them outrageously profitable? Granted, monsters aren’t exactly weak, and they come at you ready to kill (which is terrifying), but 5 libra?! That profit margin beats capturing bandits alive any day!

“Oh, and just so you know, that’s the market price—the price we traders pay. If sold, they’d fetch only about a one- to two-fold markup.”

That remark instantly doused my soaring enthusiasm.

Ah, yes, exactly. With such profits, of course everyone would become an adventurer. After all, who would want to be stuck with a job that pays so poorly…?

So, if it’s a one- to two-fold markup, that comes out to between 1 libra and 50 as when divided per head. Hmmm, that’s only marginally better than daily wage labor… No, and it’s unlikely that just one will appear—and even then…

I calculated with disturbingly grim arithmetic and realized that it just wasn’t worth it. When weighed against the price of life itself, the value is infinitely marginal. Without a sense of romance or a calling, one simply can’t do such work.

“Moreover, if they’re damaged, their value decreases—and sometimes these even function as a backup core. There are even some that keep moving even if their head is smashed, so sometimes you just have to destroy them entirely.”

“Indeed…”

Isn’t that a bit too much, in every sense? Though powerful monsters yield high-quality magical crystals, to extract them you must inevitably damage the crystals, and if you try not to harm them, you won’t be able to defeat the monster.

It’s truly cruel. Whoever devised that balance, come out here and face me.

While I was lamenting the absurdity of the world, Miss Agrippina de Staal—who had been examining the magical crystals with a craftsman’s eye—suddenly interjected,
“Well, if you give them to me, I’ll buy them at fifty percent.”

“Eh!?”

“What did you just say? Fifty percent? Fifty percent?!”

“A total of 15 libra!”

“Y-yes, that’s right… You’re quick with numbers.”

Though a buyer might think that getting a 50% margin is outrageous profit, compared to selling to a merchant I’d actually gain 2.5 times as much—if not more. Isn’t it an incredibly beneficial proposal for both sides?

Without a moment’s hesitation, I accepted. For the sake of Eliza’s tuition, I’d do just about anything.

Moreover, if I can earn money at this rate, it’s incredibly lucrative. If all goes well, I might cover Eliza’s tuition and expenses for years without being tied down. Alright, suddenly I felt a surge of motivation…

“Then, off you go.”

“…Huh?”

Her abrupt farewell left me dumbfounded…

【Tips】 Magical crystals can also substitute for an individual’s magical power.

Now, about thirty minutes after that sudden “off you go,” I had made my way through the grove and stood before a mansion.

They say that monsters do not wander aimlessly; rather, they are unconsciously drawn to places where magical essence accumulates, and there they band together.

Such places range from secluded, yawning caves, to abandoned, decaying mountain-castle dungeons… or even western-style mansions left desolate and forgotten after a horrific incident wiped out their inhabitants.

“Wow… it really exists.”

Now, I am fully armed, standing at the main gate of the mansion. The two-story building, though once magnificent, is now crumbling—exuding a forlorn air as if its grandeur had ended—and its location makes it unnervingly dark and desolate even in broad daylight.

My arrival here was entirely at the behest of my master. After all, given his extraordinary zeal for profit, he sent me off with the order to earn yet another windfall. He said that if six monsters have appeared, there must be an area nearby where magical essence is concentrated. And, indeed, if I obediently headed in the direction he pointed, here I am.

…I was hesitating because it was expensive, but I thought I might acquire the “Magic Power Detection” skill too. It would be useful in combat, and it feels great to have an instinctive sense of things.

Now, enough with the daydreaming; it’s time to face reality. I decided to go here on my own accord, not because I was forced.

Drawing my beloved sword and steeling myself to step into the mansion’s domain, my “Presence Detection” skill went off. Someone was watching me. The source of that gaze was at my waist—from a pouch hanging on the same belt as my sword.

A bad feeling came over me. That pouch contained the rose given to me by the girl who calls herself the Night Fairy. That black rose was truly mysterious. It never withered or drooped; even if plucked, its petals did not scatter, nor would they budge if I tried to disassemble it. Moreover, when I once placed it on an inn’s desk out of unease, it mysteriously returned to the pouch before I knew it. Even if I fumed, “Are you some kind of cursed doll?!” it seems that once an affinity connection item is formed, it simply cannot be undone.

Then, the rose’s gaze shifted toward me—hardly a good sign, especially in front of a mansion that looks like a full-blown haunted house, where you’d be running around like crazy avoiding zombies. Not one to ignore an omen, I reluctantly pulled out the rose. It was less open than the last time I saw it, its petals closing like a bud, yet its freshness remained intact.

Now, as I braced myself for what might begin… the rose blossomed. The shriveled petals stretched as if awakening from sleep, unfolding in my palm. And at its center was a tiny, tiny girl—the very girl I had met on a moonlit night.

“Hi, my dear. Are you in trouble?” 

“…What? Have you been here all along?”

The fairy girl, no larger than a thumb, dramatically arched her back, squinting as if the faint sunlight were too bright.

“No? I just waited until you needed me.”

“Until I needed you…?”

“In a place this dark, humans run into all sorts of trouble, don’t they?” 

With that, she spread her large wings and took off. That night, her wings had been hidden by her hair, but now I could see them: white, softly glowing wings reminiscent of a great blue heron.

“So, I thought I’d come to your rescue.”

With a graceful leap, she moved in that peculiar—visible yet hard to pinpoint—manner, and, drawing close to my face, planted a kiss on my eyelid.

And just like that, the gloomy forest brightened as if it were a plain. Even the windows that had been shrouded in shadow, and the areas darkened by trees, became crystal clear.

“What is this…”

“I am the Night-Flying Fairy. The darkness of night is what feels most comforting to me. So, I lent you a bit of my senses,” she explained with a smile, as if saying she didn’t want me to get hurt.

…Is that her way of saying, “Don’t die until I kill you,” or something like that?

“Besides, I must also help our unfortunate comrades.”

“Unfortunate comrades?” 

“Well, the details will be a surprise after it’s all over. If you do well, I’ll reward you,” she giggled. As she laughed, she melted away, and the once-blooming rose quietly returned to bud.

Hmm… is this considered accepting a quest? Getting an assignment from someone who tried to abduct you—it sounds so ominous and underhanded that I can’t help but feel uneasy.

Nevertheless, my master told me to go, and it’s an attractive situation where visiting one location means I can complete two quests at once.

“Bah, whatever—let it be as it may!” I declared.

Realizing there was no time to waste, I decided to cast aside my doubts and sneak into the mansion…

【Tips】 Fairies not only play tricks, but are also beings that bestow blessings. The problem is that when their favor turns sour, it becomes terrifyingly dreadful.