Chapter 345
Chapter 345
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 345
Chapter Title: Side Story 29. Beasts (1)
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"Honey. This has to stop."
"Hm? What's wrong?"
Baren, who had been lounging on the sofa reading a book, tilted his head.
He was enjoying a sweet vacation at home during the summer break.
Lowering the book slightly, he spotted his wife glaring at him with her hands on her hips.
Nemea.
The elite were-lion who had once served in the Imperial Knights and been Duke Zaiper's direct aide was now a housewife tending to the home.
"Did something happen at the parent-teacher conference? Ugh..."
Baren struggled to sit up.
His massive bulk made even that a challenge.
Habitually reaching out, he grabbed a cookie from the side table.
These were Baren's homemade treats, packed with chocolate and honey, each one the size of a human serving tray.
He was just about to pop it into his mouth.
"Stop. How many is that today?"
"Pardon?"
"That snack. How many have you eaten?"
"Let me see... I've never counted, but maybe five?"
"Wrong. Thirty-seven exactly. And it's not even noon yet."
Her voice was terrifying.
Nemea strode over and snatched the cookie from Baren's hand.
"Wh-what are you doing?! Give it back!"
"No. You're banned from snacks for the foreseeable future."
"How can you say something so cruel...!"
"It was cute at first, but this is too much. Lately, I've been questioning if you're even one of us. Look at that gut. That's a were-pig, not a were-lion."
"Keurgh!"
Nemea grabbed Baren's belly fat and tugged.
It was thick and plush, like something from prime fattened cattle.
Hard to believe this was the body of the man once famed as the empire's sharpest dresser.
Baren jiggled his double chin as he pleaded.
"Ow! And dear, this isn't belly fat, it's..."
"Don't give me that 'it's moob' nonsense. I'm seriously considering separate bedrooms these days. Do you know how much of the bed you take up? It's not midwinter training, but I'm huddling in the cold frontier like this—do you get how that feels?"
"I-I had no idea you were dealing with that."
"Sigh... Honestly, I could endure that. I love you. But lately, I'm so worried about your health I can't focus on anything. The kids are growing up, and if you collapse from hypertension or diabetes, what then? Once you've built a family, your life isn't just yours anymore. Even a top-tier imperial magnate like you is done if you lose your health."
True to her aide background, her eloquence was sharp.
And she was spot-on, leaving no room for rebuttal.
Baren tucked his tail and listened to her speech without a word.
"A-alright, dear. I was wrong. I'll lose the weight."
"Don't make me laugh. This is your fourteenth such declaration this year."
"This time for real! I, Baren Phanasir, was a continent-trotting adventurer in my youth, you know. I'll get back to how I was when we first met, so just one last..."
Baren's hand crept toward the cookie.
This was beyond addiction.
Crack!
Nemea's tail whipped like a lash across his knuckles.
"Keurgh!"
"Can't you snap out of it even now?! Fine, no choice. Time for drastic measures."
"Dr-drastic measures?"
The premonition wasn't good.
As Baren swallowed nervously,
the study door suddenly opened, and a bearded old man stepped out.
He greeted Baren.
"Good to see you, Baren."
"P-Principal?!"
Baren's eyes widened.
It was Krava Kratir, wielder of spatial magic and principal of Imperial Phileon Academy.
His soul companion, the Dream Bird Marfez, was nestled in his arms, dozing off with soft snores.
- Pii... Piieee...
"Good lord, how long have you been there?!"
Baren shot to his feet.
The sofa creaked in relief from the near-crushing.
Kratir said,
"About thirty minutes... Nemea asked so earnestly that I came. I was listening and agreed to step out once the condition was met."
"Condition?"
"You declaring you'd lose weight, then immediately reaching for snacks. I hoped it wouldn't happen, but Nemea's prediction was spot-on. You're consistent, Baren."
Kratir chuckled heartily.
Baren's face flushed with shame.
As he tried to protest, Kratir snapped his fingers.
Snap!
A crisp sound rang out, space warped before them, and a massive dimensional gate appeared.
"Now, off you go. As a top adventurer, you won't need much gear."
"...Pardon?"
"This is the drastic measure. Even I think you've gotten a bit too sturdy. For your health and Phileon's reputation, I recommend slimming down."
"N-no, I just said I'd lose it. No need for this...!"
"Already told the kids. We'll handle childcare and estate management, so don't worry."
Nemea nodded.
She shoved her stunned husband toward the gate.
Caught off-guard, Baren toppled backward into it.
"Kwaaaah! D-dear! Principal!"
"Sorry, honey."
"Forgive me for this choice, Baren."
"Where are you sending me?! Nooo!!"
Baren's pitiful cries were in vain.
The gate swallowed him whole and snapped shut.
Kratir stroked his beard with a smile.
"Heh, looking forward to a sleeker you at opening ceremony."
"Thank you, Principal... I didn't think he'd slim down on his own, so I had to ask, but is this okay?"
Nemea murmured worriedly.
It was tough love, but he was her beloved husband.
If he got seriously hurt, she'd never forgive herself.
Kratir shook his head.
"More than okay, Nemea. He'd survive even if dropped in hell."
"That bad? You mentioned adventurer earlier..."
"Ah, you missed it. Baren entered Phileon by direct imperial invitation. Before professorship, he was a renowned scholar and explorer. He's pioneered over a thousand uncharted regions and routes."
She still remembered first meeting Baren vividly.
His gentle demeanor unchanged,
but his body back then was godlike, believable as a beastkin deity descended.
Rippling sculpted muscles everywhere, tail like a steel whip.
His dark brown mane billowed wildly, as feral as Zaiper's.
'He was honestly a bit scary then. I prefer him now, but health is the issue.'
Pudgy as pudding now, still charming, but obesity was the root of all ills, even for hardy beastkin.
Taller than Kratir by double, she couldn't pat his shoulder,
but he set Marfez on the sofa and comforted her.
"So don't worry, Nemea. Your husband will triumph and return."
"Gwaaack!"
Baren tumbled out of the dimensional gate.
His round bulk rolled a couple turns before stopping.
Finally upright, he gawked and shouted.
"N-no! Don't go!"
The gate was vanishing.
He lumbered after it, but the rift closed just before his fingers grazed it.
"Ah... Aaaah..."
Baren collapsed.
No easy way home now.
Motion sickness hit late; he retched.
"Urk...!"
Spatial travel side effect.
First time in ages, so brutal.
Only after vomiting all the daytime cookies did he look up.
"So... where is this..."
Fullness gone, reason returned.
Baren surveyed slowly. Barren black rock everywhere, not a blade of grass.
Dreary sky without a hint of blue, speckled with snowflake debris.
Snowdrifts here and there, occasional wild beast bones.
Opposite of the verdant central islands.
Whoooosh!
Sudden northern gale engulfed him.
"Eek?!"
Baren flinched, huddling.
Chill that raised every hair.
Not easy to make a thick-furred were-lion feel cold.
Even winter northern treks weren't this bad. Surely not.
'No way. Even harsh, not that.'
Suppressing dread, Baren moved.
Heavy body made knees ache even slightly.
Soon atop a tall rock, he scanned terrain again.
"Oh... Good lord."
Wider view revealed what he'd missed.
His gaze locked on distant coastline.
Dark blue sea dotted with floating ice.
Ice floes like marshmallows for hot chocolate—rare sight.
Baren sighed.
"......Heiran."
The polar extremity Ronan and Adeshan once visited.
Continent's northernmost point, no villages even.
Colder only in the demon sea called ghost waters.
"This... this is too much."
Baren whimpered.
Fat or not, inhumanely cruel.
Dumped in Heiran of all places.
Full speed nonstop to empire: over a month.
Weight would drop, sure.
If he survived to return.
Fresh chill wind clattered his teeth.
"Brr... shelter and hides first."
Diet or not, he'd freeze like this.
Sleeveless shirt and shorts only—obvious.
Gotta find leather or cave.
As he steeled himself to move,
a desperate voice echoed afar.
"Damn... Huff! Get lost, you mutts!"
"Kraaak! Krrak!"
Baren turned.
A were-fox fleeing a wolf pack.
Their unusually fluffy fur marked arctic woolly wolves, northernmost dwellers.
"Trouble...!"
Baren kicked off instantly.
Golden aura amplified his legs.
Stairs taxed him normally, but with aura, ten minutes of superhuman feats.
Two leaps closed the gap.
Landing, he slammed fist to ground.
Kwaaaaaang-!!
Monstrous shockwave flipped earth.
"Kyak!"
"Keng!"
Fan-shaped upheaval buried wolves.
Rock and soil torrent like a dam burst.
Three or four survivors yelped and fled.
Aura fading, Baren turned to the were-fox.
"You there, alright?! Hurt anywhere?"
"......Thanks to you. Incredible strength."
The were-fox marveled.
Power more magical than magic.
About to thank him, narrowed eyes.
"Wait, you're..."
"Hm?"
Baren too.
The were-fox's features vaguely familiar.
Very.
After staring long,
both spoke at once.
"Professor Baren?"
"Aren't you the Curse Studies Department's secret professor?"