Surviving in the Wild (3)
The sky. Three thousand meters above the duel arena. Far enough that beastmen with keen eyes could still make out shapes if they looked up from below. Conversely, it was the perfect vantage point to observe every movement on the ground. Two winged beastmen hovered there, flapping hard as they scanned the terrain beneath them.
"Hey, James."
"What, Michael."
"Down there. You really think we should just leave it?"
Both wore Cadelis Academy faculty badges. They glided in place, staring at a particular stretch of forest on the ground.
"A shark's trying to chew up a sheep."
"Leave it. These are students who made it into the academy. No way they'd actually get eaten alive."
A golden-furred sheep. A shark charging with clear murderous intent. Yet the two faculty simply watched.
"Unless the head and neck get severed to the point healing magic can't fix it, we'll have to overlook an arm or torso getting ripped off."
"It's going for the head, though?"
"...Should we step in?"
They had planned to stay back at first, but as the shark's assault grew increasingly brutal, the two drew their blades.
If the sheep died, the sheep clan probably wouldn't raise a fuss. They'd likely see it as a disgrace instead. The academy has barely started and there's already a 'dropout'? they'd sneer, mocking the fallen student's entire race. And if that dropout happened to be one of their own? The sheep clan wouldn't be able to show their faces for a long while.
The shark clan, on the other hand, might celebrate. Sure, one of their students would be expelled in disgrace for murder, but they'd have taken down a land-dwelling member of the Twelve Races. Even if it cost them a shot at the King's Symbol, there were plenty of other shark beastmen to take up the cause.
"The instructors might feel differently, but for us, fewer students to manage is a blessing... huh?"
"The turtle used magic? It's bound with Binding."
"Oh dear. But if it actually dies, that's—"
KWA-ANG!
A powerful flame orb blasted the shark away. At the sight of those deep crimson flames, the two bird-winged faculty members spoke at the same time.
"The princess?"
"No way... why is Lady Vermilion here...?"
The daughter of the Vermilion Bird. The ideal woman for every avian beastman. A being every winged creature dreamed of soaring through the skies with as a pair.
Children born through the Vermilion Bird took human form, their wings made of roaring flame. Offspring with other women might still possess wings or razor claws, but only the rarest bloodline—when the mother was a Vermilion—produced children in perfect human shape with wings wreathed in living fire.
That was why every bird beastman, whether eagle or hawk, wanted to marry her. Yet that same woman had saved not just anyone, but a sheep. And now she was treating the sheep with open affection—
"S-She smiled...?"
"Impossible. How can she even talk to him like that?"
She drew close and kept chattering away. It defied belief. The very idea of the woman named Vermilion "chattering" with someone felt wrong.
"P-Princess..."
"How... why is she making that kind of expression toward a sheep human...?"
Hands clasped behind her back, leaning slightly forward as she spoke—it was a sight they had never witnessed before.
Becoming faculty at Cadelis Academy was a respectable job, of course. But there had been another motive: since they couldn't enroll as students, they hoped to form meaningful connections with those who could. Out of three hundred students, only twelve could claim a King's Symbol. If the person they courted obtained one, their future would be set.
They had received strict orders to watch from above and pay special attention to safety incidents. Yet as single males, how could such thoughts not cross their minds?
But this... this was different. The woman they most wanted to marry was showing an expression she had never revealed in avian territory. When the bat beastman who followed her released killing intent and declared he would kill the sheep, she frowned at him—as if protecting the sheep.
"My god, how is this even..."
"Wait. That sheep, what's he doing now?!"
The sheep who had been under protection stepped forward on his own. Vermilion gave him a dumbfounded look, but after hearing whatever he said, she stood beside him with an expression of trust.
Kyaaaaaaaak!!
The bat bared its fangs and unleashed a monstrous shriek. The ultrasonic attack was powerful enough to rattle eardrums, yet the two faculty members could only watch from above.
"...What do you want to do?"
"What can we do. Tsk."
As faculty, they were supposed to intervene to prevent murder. Yet for some reason, they hesitated.
"If that bat actually kills the sheep..."
"An accident. Just an unfortunate accident."
"...Yeah. An accident."
Sheep versus beastman. Who would win?
"At the very least, I hope that arrogant face gets shredded by bat wings."
"But if the sheep wins..."
"Hey. That bat is Icaris. From the Vampire clan."
"......!"
Their eyes met. Simultaneously, they broke into wicked grins.
"Then... we only need to step in if they attack or threaten the princess."
"Exactly. No way a vampire strolling around fine in sunlight would lose to a mere sheep, right?"
I could feel an unpleasant gaze from the faculty flying overhead. It was the kind of look hardcore, obsessive fans of Vermilion might give—the kind that said the man standing next to her (me) should drop dead immediately.
The same hostility radiated from the guy right in front of me, the one baring fangs like a textbook vampire. Beside him, a dragonian had pulled out a silver spear from somewhere and was settling into a combat stance.
"Um, just to double-check... you're sure I don't need to handle both of them?"
Worry colored Vermilion's voice. She had absolute confidence in taking on two beastmen at once and winning, but she seemed genuinely concerned about me fighting Icaris one-on-one.
"Of course. I have to earn my meals somehow."
"But the opponent is—"
"Looks like we don't have time to chat."
Ta-ang!
I burst forward. Mana coiled around both fists as I lowered my stance and thrust my lead foot out.
Whirlik!
A red mass of blood flew from the bat beastman. They were clearly crimson claws, and he was charging straight at me with both hands extended.
Nail missile? No. They looked like nails, but they were actually—
Blood!
Tudududu!
Blood bullets grazed past my eyes. A split second slower and those blood projectiles would have punched straight into my face. The moment I took a direct hit, the fight would have been over.
"Die!!"
Kwaang!!
An explosion erupted behind me. I accelerated forward, barely dodging the blast.
Blood Explosion, was it?
Explosive blood. Blood detonation. The traits I'd learned from Bastet and Silmarion flashed through my mind. The ability to burn or detonate one's own blood. I'd heard there was a bat-type beastman with exceptional talent for it.
To think I'd face him this soon.
Bang! Kwaang!
Explosions kept going off, but they only detonated in my wake.
"Slow."
"You—!"
I simply read the trajectories of the flying nails and dodged while charging. I'd evaded every opening strike.
Was it because I'd fought bat beastmen before? Not really.
-Sometimes they shoot horns, nails, or scales, right? Just watch and dodge. Never tank it. They might have coated the horns with poison, or the nails could have mana threads attached that yank your whole body forward.
I'd learned the theory. It wasn't specific to blood-exploding bats, but it was enough.
Humans are creatures who know how to apply knowledge.
If I can't counter it, I'll just avoid every hit perfectly and close the distance. Simple.
No shield. Couldn't take the hits with my body. But I had legs faster than the blood he was firing.
Infuse mana—one step.
Ta-ang!
I closed the gap in an instant. The bat, about to spew more blood, panicked when I appeared right in front of him. Then his lips curled into a delighted grin as he opened his mouth wide.
"Got you—!"
"Nonsense."
Sleek.
I dropped my upper body as low as possible. The red trajectories of both hands whistled over my head, but I was already sliding sideways, reaching upward.
-Bird!
Memories surfaced. Memories I didn't particularly want to recall. Lessons learned over far more than the single year of training with Bastet and Silmarion—perhaps even longer than my previous life's memories.
-First!! Rip the wings!!
Memories as a human raised on an island. As a hunter who studied nothing but hunting methods to take revenge on beastmen.
Grab.
I seized the wing, instantly taking his back. Both hands locked onto the wing joint, one foot planted against his spine.
"This—"
The bat beastman whipped his head around to grab me, but—
"Told you you're slow."
Crack!
Using his own back as a platform, I wrenched the wing downward. I twisted it like forcibly tearing off a chicken wing, careful not to spray blood everywhere.
"Kwaaaaaaaaak!!"
The black wing slammed downward. The bat beastman dropped to his knees and pitched forward. I released the wing, leaped back to create distance, shook out my hand, and steadied my breathing.
"...Huu."
Strength, leg power, eyesight. Enhancing my physical abilities to match other sheep beastmen had consumed quite a bit of mana, but I could still fight.
"Kuuuugh! You, you...!"
As for the bat?
"This damn...!"
It was broken. A bird with broken wings could only crawl on the ground. Even if that bird was a bat.
"What are you glaring at?"
"Wh-What...?"
"A weakling who doesn't know his place."
Even though I'd used body reinforcement magic, it had only been calibrated to let a human compete on similar terms with sheep beastmen.
"If you lost to me in close combat, just drop out and crawl away."
It was a truth only I knew, but the answer was clear. A bat beastman—a so-called vampire—had lost in hand-to-hand combat to a human.
I wanted to call him a weak bastard who got his ass handed to him by a human, but...
"You son of a bitch...!"
"Hey. Bat."
Those eyes still looked at me with arrogance. Time to break him properly.
"You think you can steal my woman with just that much?"
I crushed his male pride.
"You're just..."
Using the most humiliating words in the beastman world.
"Go drink your mom's milk a little longer."
I couldn't quite bring myself to use the most human curse that started with your mom f—. After all, "your mom" jokes were sophisticated insults meant for humans insulting other humans—
"You worthless leather-bag bastard!!"
"...Hm."
Leather-bag. The most insulting term for sheep beastmen, implying someone who only existed to be turned into parchment.
"There's nothing more empty than a weakling's curses."
But I am a gentleman. An intellectual human.
"By the way..."
I should hold back. I really should—
"When your mother gave birth to you, did she drop you from the ceiling?"
Ah. Damn it.