The Black Bear and the Enchanting Song
What I was after was a black bear.
In this highland coniferous forest where the snow never melted, black bears made their home. They had a habit of raking their claws across trees and earth to mark their territory—one of the easiest trails to follow of any monster.
I ran my hand along a trunk. The gouges were deep, wood shredded and splintered by something powerful. Definitely a black bear’s work. A clear warning: trespass, and you’ll end up like this tree.
Pina studied the marks, fingers absently brushing her chin, then spoke.
“It looks just like a Luga-lac.”
“Similar.”
Her instinct was sharp. The difference was that a Luga-lac’s claw marks felt like ruthless blade-sharpening; a black bear left only the bare minimum needed to claim its ground. Of course, it could still have been a Luga-lac—this plateau had white-furred ones adapted to winter. But the wounds on this tree were too neat, too restrained. They matched the black bear’s dry, businesslike signature far better.
I moved on. Whenever my breath grew short I stopped at once, rested until I was fully recovered, then pressed forward again. Thankfully the dizziness and light-headedness never returned. That was only true for me, though. Pina, carrying every last piece of our gear, was having a much harder time.
“Haaah… hah…”
I watched her sink onto the snow, catching her breath. Plowing through drifts that rose to the calves was exhausting work. I asked carefully,
“You okay?”
“I-I’m a little better.”
She still looked woozy, but she adapted quickly. It had been a long time since we’d done real exploration like this. I’d rested for ages because my body had been wrecked; now that the muscle pain was gone, I felt light enough to fly. Right now I honestly believed I could take down Disastro alone. Not empty boasting—my mind was crystal clear and my body felt perfect. It was a shame I couldn’t fight a supreme-grade monster, but in exchange I was itching to tangle with a black bear as soon as possible.
My wish went unanswered. The black bear refused to show itself. The sun sank lower and the shadows of the evergreens stretched long. A cold, knife-edged wind knifed through the trees and brushed past us. Pina gave a light sneeze.
“Achoo!”
The Thermal Powder was wearing off; a chill was creeping into our bones. We dusted ourselves again to keep our body heat up. Around that time we slipped behind a stand of trees—because the black bear had finally appeared.
Krrrr…… KRrrr……
Black Bear. Orsonero.
Its dark body was thick with shaggy fur. Aside from the unusually massive forelegs, nothing about it looked extraordinary. Yet a bear was, by its very nature, a terrifyingly powerful monster. Claws large enough to shred a human with a casual swipe. A body packed with muscle dense enough to climb trees despite that bulk. Brown eyes glittered beneath the jet-black coat. The occasional white puffs of breath made it look thoroughly enraged.
“…Hmm?”
Something felt off. It was already panting hard even though we hadn’t fought yet—almost as if it had been chasing something. Was there more in this forest than just us?
♪~♬
Then, from far away, a sweet, lingering cry drifted through the trees. The sound that had been echoing around us for some time slowly lost its strength and faded. It felt like a song without lyrics.
Pina blinked and looked around.
“…That sounds nice.”
It wasn’t merely pleasant. I frowned. The black bear reacted at once, body shifting toward the sound. It had been following the voice all along. This was no ordinary pretty song—it was a lure for monsters.
The creature bound to the yeti Neveumano. The Snow Woman, Neveterde.
…I had to stop the bear before it wandered off. Monsters that heard Neveterde’s voice, put simply, went into heat. To human ears it was only sweet; to monsters it was something else entirely. Maybe it felt like she was moaning right in their faces. Calling her a harlot instead of a snow woman wouldn’t be wrong. People even nicknamed her the Wanton Woman.
I let out a breath, then charged forward without hesitation.
“…Hah.”
“A-Alice-nim?”
“Stay hidden.”
I had to pull Orsonero’s attention away before it took the bait. I drew the greatsword from my hip and thrust it straight forward, raking the blade across the bear’s hide. As expected, the damage was disappointing. Orsonero’s hide had evolved to retain heat and was thicker than I’d hoped. Only a shallow scratch remained; not even a proper wound.
KRRRAaA!!!
Orsonero’s eyes rolled with fury. It looked thoroughly pissed that something had blocked its path and dared to touch it. Playing with a hunter would be more fun than chasing a snow woman, though.
I met the bear’s gaze and let the corner of my mouth curl up. I’d heard bear gall was excellent for the body. I pulled the greatsword back and settled into my stance.
Evan desperately blocked the attack.
The Sabeltiger’s saber-teeth clashed against his longsword, ringing out in a sharp metallic scream. The edge of the longsword was being ground down by those fangs.
“Grrrk!”
Evan poured strength into every muscle, shoving back against the saber-teeth while the Sabeltiger glared murder at him with both eyes. There was no way to overpower a monster through raw strength. Pure absurdity. He barely managed to deflect the strike sideways and exhaled hard.
Blood stained the Sabeltiger’s fangs and claws—blood from the soldiers who had already fallen. Evan ran through the failure in his head. Had he underestimated the monster? No. Had the tactics been wrong? No. Had the monster simply been… abnormal? That was the answer.
The Sabeltiger was an ancient mid-tier monster. A normal one would have fallen exactly as Evan planned. But those teeth had been endlessly honed through combat. The bluish saber-fangs had grown massive, their keenness equal to a masterwork blade forged by a legendary smith. And it wasn’t only the teeth. Everything about the beast surpassed the original species. This was a battle-scarred veteran that had crossed the ages—the Master Sword Sabeltiger.
Evan had no way of knowing its true nature. He only felt the crushing unfairness of defeat.
Krrr.
The Sabeltiger stepped back and closed its jaws. The saber-fangs met the deformed bone sheath that had grown along its lower jaw. When it opened its mouth again, the fangs gleamed as they emerged. The cold air inside the sheath had re-sharpened the edges dulled by battle.
“You monster bastard.”
Evan clicked his tongue and glanced behind him. Four soldiers left. Three were wounded; the remaining three were busy supporting them and out of the fight. The Sabeltiger had relentlessly targeted the weaker soldiers rather than the knights. It knew that thinning the weak first made the rest far harder to handle. A cunning beast.
Victory was no longer certain. Evan ground his teeth.
“Retrea—”
“C-Captain!”
One of the soldiers shouted in panic. Evan instantly released the essence in his longsword and raised the blade. Clang! Fang met steel. The sword aura pouring from the monster’s essence seemed to protect the edge for a moment—then snap! The longsword could no longer endure and broke. The impact sent Evan staggering backward.
Through the visor of his helmet he saw the Sabeltiger’s saber-fang coming for him. Instinctively he raised his left arm to block.
Shhhk—!!
Blinding pain blanked his mind. The fang that had crushed his gauntlet carved deep into his left arm. The limb didn’t sever, but the flesh hung in ragged strips. White steam rose from the blood dripping steadily from the wound. The Sabeltiger flicked its tongue and licked the blood from its fang.
KRRRRRrrr!
The taste seemed to excite it; it snorted hard. Evan gasped for air and tightened his grip on the broken longsword in his right hand. It had shattered in half, but a little edge still remained.
“…Damn it.”
Retreat was no longer an option. Evan turned his head. His mind cooled, and he looked at the situation with merciless clarity. This defeat was no one’s fault but his own. Everything stemmed from his own haste. He should have observed longer, taken the hunt slowly. Because of his personal goal, others had paid the price. Suddenly he felt ashamed. Was this his knighthood? What had that humiliation even been worth? In the end it was only the fruit of his own inadequacy.
In that moment, standing before death, Evan became strangely serene.
“Run. I’ll hold it.”
If a hunter had been standing here instead, could they have won? Evan glanced at the broken longsword and wondered. That hunter who had once humiliated him… she probably could have.
♪~♬
Then a cry reached them. The Sabeltiger’s eyes widened. As if Evan and the soldiers no longer existed, it turned its back. It felt not the slightest attachment to its prey. It simply ran after the sound.
One arm dangling uselessly, Evan let out a hollow, deflated breath as he watched the Sabeltiger’s retreating form.
“…We lived.”
He exhaled. Then the world spun. His body swayed weakly. Oxygen was scarce. Blood loss made him stagger harder. Consciousness blurred, breath grew short. His vision went white until he could see nothing at all. Barely free of the Sabeltiger, altitude sickness now tormented him. Clutching his chest, Evan collapsed face-first into the snow.
“Ah… haah… ah…”
The soldiers rushed to him too late. Supported between them, Evan felt his awareness slip farther and farther away.