Breaking My Own Bones
A side annex in the royal palace. Amid reviewing the list of invitees for the upcoming grand ball.
"Next Swordmaster?"
At someone's out-of-left-field question, a man tilts his head and replies.
"Obviously, Ivan Hellenger's the frontrunner, right? From the rumors alone, that guy's insane."
"Yeah?"
"His family's magic swordsmen to begin with, so he'll have all the backing he needs."
"Hmm."
But that answer didn't satisfy the playful question from the woman reviewing the list beside him.
"What about this guy?"
"The Northern Duke? Well, his achievements are solid enough, but from what I've heard, that guy's—"
"Got this super attractive icy face."
"What?"
"Totally expressionless normally. But around people he likes, his face blooms like a rose. He's so handsome, folks around him have to be careful not to fall for him. They say guys like that are even better at what they do."
"What the hell? Suddenly talking about some other guy's looks?"
"Why?"
Spotting the man squint, the woman giggles.
She hooks her arm through his and teases.
"Jealous?"
"No, the context is just random as fuck. We were talking about who's the strongest among the invitees, and it veers off like this?"
"Why? I was saying handsome guys are good at their jobs too—perfect context, right?"
"Jesus."
The man lets out an exasperated chuckle.
He turns slightly toward her and asks.
"...What about me?"
"Huh?"
"Think I'll be good at my job?"
"Dunnooo."
The woman covers her mouth, laughing mischievously.
This whole conversation was bait she dangled on purpose.
Toward her, who never missed a chance to flirt even at work, creating that lover's vibe.
"Compared to that Northern Duke?"
"Hmm."
"What? Why're you thinking?"
"Feels like the answer won't come quick?"
"Annoying. Fine, compared to this Knight Captain?"
"About the same~?"
"Jesus. Then compared to this Guard Captain?"
"Nah, you'd win that one."
"See."
Suddenly.
"Compared to that monster fucker?!"
"What?!"
The man's finger points right at me.
And.
The woman's head naturally follows his finger.
"Ah, seriously! We're talking people, why's that thing in the mix?!"
"Yeah. Comparing to a monster like that is an insult, right?"
"Exactly?"
"Yeah."
Suddenly pressing their foreheads together, hands clasped.
Their heads turn slowly toward me, but by then, their faces have changed.
Not human.
Troll and orc faces split into wide grins, and eerie voices spill out.
"..........Right? You monster?"
Eh?
"Monster."
"Monster fucker."
"Monster! Monster!"
"Mooonsteer!"
"You're! A moooonster!"
The background fades to haze.
The grotesque shouts multiply bit by bit.
Mixed with static like from a torn speaker, growing louder and louder.
Moooooonsteeeeer—!
When the unbearable noise hit.
".................Aaaargh!"
I snapped awake. Screaming from the nightmare, the musty stench of my jagged hideout greets me from all sides.
Pauche's secret lab. The safest spot on this island, at least.
I let out a long sigh and mutter.
"Just a dream."
Whenever I overdo it the day before, I get dreams like this.
A cute scene from the original novel The Lady Hoards All the Attention, twisted into a mocking, filthy nightmare.
"......Fuck."
As always, I grumbled a curse to shake off the grimy feeling, wiped the sweat from my forehead, and slowly rose.
Glancing at the cracked mirror on the lab table, the words from that nightmare slip out unbidden.
"......Monster."
A monster stared back from the mirror.
Cannonball-like deltoids gleaming with sweat on both shoulders.
Thick forearms bulging like howitzers descending from either side.
At their ends, where the forearms flowed seamlessly, massive fists studded with king-sized knuckles for every punch.
And that wasn't all. Abs etched with thick, packed slabs forming a bold six-pack.
Coarse tendons writhing like snakes everywhere, plus hundreds of scars from weeks of nonstop fights—many still not faded back to normal skin tone.
A body anyone could see had left human limits behind.
I could confidently say no amount of steroid doping could build this—even in my past life.
Not just size; the internal muscle fiber bundles and nerves were reinforced too, granting monstrous strength beyond any powerlifter I'd seen.
Its rapid recovery from cuts and tears, inexhaustible stamina, explosive muscle bursts—those went without saying.
But the real deal was something else.
In an adrenaline rush, drawing breath deep to gather power, that bizarre energy surging through my body would explode into an impossible state!
Vitality flooding from head to toe, steam rising from everywhere, eyes blazing so fierce my vision rippled!
A state near a full transformation. The hint came from another of Pauche's diaries piled under the lab desk.
Berserk! I, Pauche, dub this Berserk Mode!
The explosive power from igniting the monster mana etched into the mana circuits throughout the body far surpasses even high-tier berserk spells from top mages—though it doesn't last long!
Those idiots at the Magic Tower couldn't even dream this was possible!
Aaaah! Awake at last, my faithful servant!
As a blood-mad berserker! Slaughter every fool who ignored my genius!
Carve my great name across the kingdom!
— Pauche
Berserk state.
True to the terrifying name, entering it unleashed power dwarfing everything before.
One drawback: After it ends, recovery from injuries takes longer than usual.
Like right now.
Throb—!
Pain spreading inside my body creases my brows in the mirror.
"Hss."
The agony of three broken ribs healing wasn't something even I could shrug off laughing.
"That crazy monster fucker."
More serious than the pain: I hadn't killed the monster that broke those ribs.
Yeah.
Even combining this superhuman body with Berserk, it wasn't enough to claim top predator on this hellish island.
Closing my eyes still echoes that nightmare beast's footsteps.
—Thud... Thud... Thud...
It was yesterday, rampaging solo in the orc camp.
First time venturing in broad daylight against the whole tribe—excitement, or maybe the Berserk entry—but swinging a giant orc in a Giant Swing, I missed it.
A mad monster descending from the valley toward the orc camp.
—Thud... Thud... Thud...
Just as the earth-shaking roar hit.
Its massive bulk soon cast a huge shadow over the entire battlefield.
First time seeing one for real.
Size dwarfing a decent officetel.
—Chit, chiiiit!?
—Chiiiik!
—Chiiiiit!
The moment it appeared, orcs fleeing me rushed back my way.
As if I was less dangerous than that thing.
Even without their DNA-deep terror response, I got it quick.
Why ogres were "subjugation" targets.
Why it took company-sized forces to hunt one.
Why even mercs seasoned on orcs and trolls called ogre hunts insane.
One club swing.
Its wind alone scattered orcs like autumn leaves.
Even in Berserk, I had to grind my teeth till they screamed, feet dug into the ground to withstand.
—Groooar!
Survival was all.
Against an ogre chowing down hunted orcs while climbing back to the valley.
Landed a few hits charging in fast, but to it, mere bruises.
Even those? It swatted irritably like flies—few busted ribs, barely escaped. That was it.
'Fucking insane.'
Terrifying power. Top-tier predator vying for this island's apex.
But.
'Gotta beat even that.'
To escape this island alive, whimpering at a mere ogre won't cut it.
That resolve hit when.
BOOM—!
Sudden massive roar, the whole cave housing my hideout shakes violently.
Rocks falling.
A sight I'd glimpsed hunting trolls, goblins, orcs in the central zone these past weeks.
Why rocks fall? Unlike valley ogres rampaging below now and then, a mad fucker up top hurls them whenever pissed.
It hadn't chucked rocks to the island's edge before, but reason didn't matter.
Yesterday's ruckus too loud, rock flew far? Fighting another predator like the ogre? Or just venting excess power? Who gives a shit?
'No time.'
Only mattered: Get stronger, faster.
Way stronger, madly so.
To survive the Cyclops's random boulder barrages from its high perch.
To survive thunderbirds circling when rafting to the beach sands.
To survive tentacle horrors rising from sea depths once afloat.
'Orc tribes ain't the issue.'
Become a monster that can solo ogres bloodily.
How? Abuse this body with harsher training than ever, hunt remaining monster tribes near the edge ASAP, grow.
Once done, maybe snag more than survival.
Not just strength—the mystery gem embedded in that Cyclops, or...
Oh right.
'Wish there was a faster way!'
Then.
From my chest, a grotesque crack as yesterday's busted ribs knit.
Crack!
Curious if set right, I thump the spot with my fist.
Thud thud!
Feels oddly more stable than before.
No wonder. Bones, once healed...
'Ah!'
Idea flashes.
A brilliant ploy to accelerate the injury-recovery cycle way beyond before.
'Why didn't I think of this sooner?'
Bones grow stronger after breaking and healing!
So.
'Break and heal 'em myself every day?!'
Bones are the body's framework!
Reinforce that frame to its limit!
Wouldn't I get a far superior chassis than now?
"Aaaah!"
I yell aloud in awe.
Genius, insane idea!
This body's regen is nuts—except post-Berserk injuries!
No need to limit break-heal to muscles!
No need to fight monsters just to get hurt!
Blown away by the brilliance.
For a moment. Just a moment.
Am I losing it? Fleeting doubt.
"...Hahaha! No way!"
Kehkeh, laughing it off, doubt gone.
Thus, curiosity peaking on how far I could reinforce every bone.
"Self-service bone smash—!"
Crack—!
I swung my right arm, shattering my own shinbone.