23 – When some struggle, some are at peace.

Mountain mollusk tribe. Our species, resembling garden snails, doesn’t die from minor wounds.

Even if our bodies are cut in half, we can survive if we mend properly. As long as there’s enough water, we can regenerate through our mucus.

Our horrendous vitality made our parents become livestock for witches, spilling their mucus.

And now I’m alive.

Despite being sliced in half by the hero’s sword.

My body nearly dried up from the gushing mucus, and it may take tens of days to fully recover.

But I am alive. Never have I been so relieved to be alive.

At times, this fact would amuse me.

Back when I was struggling to survive, I didn’t feel any regret even if my survival attempt failed and I ended up dead. Despite cherishing life, I failed to cherish myself.

But after meeting Rain…

I learned from Rain that some lives are more important than mere survival. I realized that the way of living, at times, is more important than the means to survive.

Upon facing death…

I was terrified. It was cruel to die without accomplishing my purpose.

So, I was glad I survived.

From that hero.

The hero who was impatiently slaying magic beasts, didn’t notice that I was still alive. Seemingly, he considered me as just a magic beast with a bit more magic power. I was ridiculously weak for a magi creature.

Thanks to him, I bought time. I survived.

From the hero who killed Rain.

He couldn’t kill a wounded prey, a poor hunter indeed. He didn’t know that a wounded beast becomes a more ferocious and challenging predator.

And crucially.

That hero.

Didn’t understand why Rain said the ‘dungeon’ suited me.

He had no idea.

“Krrr…”

Now, subside. You insects.

Your substance to suffocate and drown is available here.

Slip into the crevices of the rocks. Burrow into the heap of stones. Devour the soil, and spew out nourishment.

From now on, this place shall become a forest.

*

I cleaved through demon-beasts. I slew monsters and villains who trafficked in the dungeons too.

There were too many things in the world that needed cutting down. There were far too many beings of malice that gnaw on goodness. I struck down those villains for justice. It wasn’t as hard as one might call an ordeal. Rather, it was almost too simple. I swung my sword, and the enemies were felled.

Was that why?

I began to feel as if the hero’s power was waning, just a bit.

Growth in adversity, and growth by slaying evil—that was supposed to be the blessing of the goddess and the strength of a hero. It was a baffling affair.

But it wasn’t a matter of great consequence. It was enough to cut down my foes. After all, hardship is meant to lead me to failure. It’s meant to induce sacrifice from someone for my sake. It’s designed for me to grow by stepping over someone else’s sacrifice.

I had no need for such growth.

What I needed was something more overwhelming. Something sharper, more acute, faster, and more lethal.

Violence.

That was all I desired.

‘…Has it always been like this?’

Was it because I focused solely on cutting down monsters without looking around? The path back seemed a bit unfamiliar.

The moss lodged in the rocks, the flowers blooming under the moonlight seeping into the rock crevices, the carnivorous plants indigenous to the dungeon, the vines that grew absorbing the dungeon’s magical energy—all these plants were growing so thickly they seemed eerily unnatural.

The plants blossoming in the darkness were like a scene drawn on a parchment-colored fairy tale. Just like the unnecessary abundance of flowers and plants filling the pages of children’s picture books.

There was no need to care about flowers blooming or trees growing in the dungeon.

Perhaps I would have been more curious and looked around in the past… But now, it was impossible to return to those times.

Clearing the obstructive vines with my blade, I searched for the path. I wanted to move on immediately to the next dungeon to cut down all the monsters and villains.

But it seemed that goal had to be postponed more than expected.

Even though I kept walking in the direction that seemed right, the path did not materialize. All day long, I cut only grass and stems. Occasionally small demon-beasts resembling rabbits, not worth my blade, would spring from the plants.

Something was off.

“O goddess, as the North Star guides the marooned sailor on the sea, grant me that guiding light. O holy sword, seek it out.”

The light of the holy sword stretched in one direction, then scattered into the air and circled around. Then it extended in another direction, scattered again, and pointed in yet another direction repeatedly.

As if the path itself kept changing…

However, it was implausible for the dungeon’s structure to change so capriciously. There might be minor changes, but the structure of the corridors itself couldn’t just shift. They could collapse or become obstructed…

“…Trees?”

Now that I thought about it, I had been to this area before. Although it was hard to distinguish due to the plants, the traces where I had struck down a monster before were still clearly etched on the wall.

The plants were growing. The tree branches obstructed the path, indicating a change in the structure of this dungeon.

If that was the case, the task was simple.

Swinging the sword, I cut through the tree branches. If there were vines, I cut them; if there were flowers, I trampled them. If I kept going in one direction, eventually, I would find a way.

But…

“Ugh… Uhh… Poison…?”

The problem was that I recklessly cut down the plants. The sap of some plants paralyzed my body, the pollen of certain flowers clouded my mind. The juice of certain grasses mocked my senses, and some vines tripped me over.

Every time, I lost my direction and wandered in the same spot. Even if I belatedly used an antidote and tried to find the way systematically, I quickly got poisoned again.

This dungeon was slowly killing itself.

In a very lethal way. Slowly stealing its own breath.

The darkness of the dungeon deepened. The glowstone was obscured by the trees, and the shadows grew. The plants breathed, clearing the air, but it became a bit dizzyingly clear.

I couldn’t figure out what was happening here.

Mushrooms. Flowers. Trees. Grass. Trees. Flowers. Moss. Vines. Vines. Damn plants.

It seemed insane.

A strange impulse surged with the fear, trembling like the shaking brain.

Should I just burn everything with flames?

I would burn along with it, but walking through the flames of hell with the strength of a warrior might be better. Didn’t they endure even in the heat created by demons?

Burn everything. Pour oil on the plants and just tap the flint. It would burn very well.

With oneself.

“…”

Before I knew it, flint was in my hand.

*

“Professor Plum!”

“Oh, Miss Rosa. It’s good to see you training so diligently again today.”

“Thank you. hehehe.”

“Your smiling face is also nice to see.”

“Did I just laugh too happily a moment ago?”

“It was a cute laugh.”

“Uh… Forget it.”

“Well, what can you do?”

As if sharing star candies under the night sky, Rosa approached quite friendly. She always loved candies since she was young, and it seemed like she still did.

Thanks to that, Roza did not treat me as formally as she did yesterday. Then she had chuckled, reminded of her younger self.

“Do you find it embarrassing…?”

“Hmm, I don’t particularly mind forgetting it…”

“Forgetting what?”

“I just enjoy seeing you, Roza, smiling. If I can, I try to amuse you. But it might be difficult if you keep feeling embarrassed, don’t you think?”

“Ugh…”

Roza was a crybaby in her younger days. To be precise, she had held back her tears since she was little, only to let them flow ceaselessly after losing her father. It seemed she had a fair amount of resentment built up inside her.

She cried a lot, was often grumpy. It seemed cute when a child did that, but it took a fair effort for me to get closer to her.

She had slowly opened up to me only when it was almost time for us to part.

Now, unlike before, I enjoyed seeing her be able to laugh more and seem at ease. It was a refreshing change.

“Do you always watch the stars here, Professor Plum?”

“Just yesterday and today.”

“Really?”

From Noble mtl dot com

“Yesterday the stars, mixing with the remnants of sunset, were so beautiful that I unwittingly kept looking at them…”

“And today?”

“Today, I was reminiscing about our conversation from yesterday.”

“…Why?”

“Well, it touched my heart?”

“I don’t know what you mean…”

“I had such a great time yesterday. If you make my day again today, Roza, I might still be here tomorrow.”

“Ugh, what? Uh… I’m not very good with words…”

Not that I was asking her to entertain me.

Roza looked baffled and her eyes darted about. It was as if she was contemplating how to make me happy.

Nonetheless, she was a good kid.

“Do you want to chat like this with me again tomorrow, Roza?”

“Huh? Well… I’m not sure…”

“Hmm, then let me redirect the question. Do you have any hobbies, Roza?”

“Well, after I owe my life to King Ruskin, I spend my entire day swinging my sword, practicing magic, studying tactics. Other than thinking of avenging the demons and restoring the Primrose’s name, I haven’t had any other thoughts. As for coming to the Academy, it was to become stronger…”

Roza seemed to bear too much responsibility. So much that she might consider having a hobby as ‘irresponsible’.

Even her thirst for revenge against the demons seemed more of a duty than a desire. As if she must harbor hatred for the demons, and remind herself of that revenge. Her longing for her father…perhaps? It’s hard to tell.

“Then, Miss Roza.”

“Yes?”

“Shall we study magic every day at this time?”

“From you, Professor…?”

“Ah, it will be our secret from the other students. It could create an issue of fairness.”

“I… um, it’s okay…”

“This is my first year in charge of a lecture, so I think it would be nice to have more intimate communication with you about magic and get feedback. Will you help me?”

“Yes.”

So we promised to spend time together every evening.

The former Primrose Earl asked me to take care of Roza twice.

I seem to have granted his request twice.

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