What Kind of Snake Was Dad? A Journal in Fairy Script
‘Beautiful and splendid specimen. The body is healthy, scales gleaming with luster. Fierce by nature—fitting for a Medusa Serpent trait, of course. The spot-like patterns on the nape were utterly exquisite.’
Spot-like patterns. Yeah, I definitely had those. Perverted creep. Calling someone else’s mom beautiful and all that...
‘The child headed south, past the Akham Basin, all the way to the outskirts of the Great Forest. Pregnant monsters migrating to safe outer edges is common behavior, but this time it went too far. Farther than usual.’
Mom was right after all. I was growing more convinced. Word was, a monster like a Medusa Serpent showing up in that area was extremely rare.
‘Likely due to strife with her mate. She was a sensitive soul.’
Dad existed too, huh. Did they have a lovers’ quarrel, and she stormed out? A Medusa mom with a soft heart—that was the biggest shock.
‘A month has passed, so if she laid her eggs safely, the hatchlings should have emerged by now. Then she’ll return...’
The records on Mother cut off there. Probably because lightning scorched part of the journal.
Hmm. For some reason, my eyes were stinging. Ah, just sand in them...
The Medusa Serpent would never return. Never see her husband again. What kind of fight could make an egg-laden mother abandon her mate and set off alone?
—Strange fellow, this Shadow Fairy.
I agreed. Deshunan, this Shadow Fairy, was undoubtedly a total lunatic.
From the journal, it seemed he bred monsters. Built his own ‘zoo’ inside the Great Forest.
‘You said you knew him. And what’s a Shadow Fairy?’
Like a dark elf? Ashen skin, clearly wielding sinister magic.
—A Shadow Fairy is exactly that: the dark shadow of the fairy race. Just as true fairies spring from the World Tree, Shadow Fairies arise from its roots.
‘Roots?’
Pellelian gave a brief explanation of fairies and the World Tree. Deep in the Great Forest stood a colossal tree—the World Tree. It scattered positive mana (+), from which fairies were born. Incredibly powerful and immense, apparently. I didn’t get how a tree could be powerful, but I knew it was gigantic. Climb high enough, and its hazy silhouette was visible from anywhere. But its roots spread far longer and wider than trunk or branches.
—Spanning the entire Great Forest. Some roots occasionally break the surface. Those are the Great Forest’s roots.
—They emit negative mana in opposition. Shadow Fairies are born from that dark mana. In other words...
Pellelian declared solemnly.
—They’re heaven’s rejects. Born twisted and evil.
I was impressed. Pellelian wasn’t just a racial bigot. He was a classist too.
—What’re you staring at? Don’t you get it from looking? The guy’s deranged—building a monster zoo and brooding in gloom for centuries.
True, but... wasn’t this from the fairy who made chimeras?
—Comparing me to a soul-selling devil-worshipper is an insult. He’s a wanted criminal too. Take that earring.
The earring lay where Deshunan’s head had vanished.
Proof he sold his soul to a devil.
Not your average earring. The description made it ooze an eerie aura.
Why take this?
—He’s got a massive bounty. This’ll serve as proof of the kill. He could never remove it.
‘Ah, right, wanted criminal. How much?’
—3,000 Radak gold coins.
Whoa! What’s a Radak gold coin? Anyway, gold coins—three thousand was a fortune.
But could I claim a bounty? A snake walking into a bounty office would get hunted on sight.
—Don’t worry. There’s a place where even you can collect.
Good to know. But why was this Shadow Fairy wanted?
A bit pervy and creepy, sure, but there had to be more.
—Stole countless things for his goals, killed many people. No one could catch him, so the bounty climbed.
Pellelian trembled with rage.
—He even stole my precious magic catalyst. Dragon scales—irreplaceable now...
‘Dragon scales?’
My ears perked up. Why’d Deshunan steal those?
—Obsessed with breeding perfect monsters. Believed crossbreeding and training over time would yield the ultimate beast. No idea what he planned with dragon scales.
Eat them for dragon power?
—As if it were that simple... Even the Reverse Heaven Archmage couldn’t catch him.
‘That strong?’
I killed someone Pellelian couldn’t. Didn’t that put me on his level? Obviously.
—Ridiculous. He had an ancient magic relic—a cloak for perfect concealment anywhere. That’s how he evaded capture and handled dangerous monsters... Seems gone now.
That sparked a thought. I rummaged Deshunan’s corpse. No cloak. Shame—a ticket to anywhere, ninja in the shadows.
Wait.
‘Now that he’s dead... his stuff’s ownerless, right?’
—Huh?
Me and Pellelian muttered together.
‘Invisibility cloak!’
—Dragon scales!
His lair must be nearby.
—Check the journal more.
For once, we synced. I was already flipping pages. Jackpot—clues.
‘Moved northeast to the Shadow Forest to build a new home. A ‘festival’ seems imminent here. The vivid red World Tree root protrudes massively—certain sign. Cliffside for safety, sunset over the World Tree inspires grandeur. Two monster groups: insects and primates...’
Grand chest-swelling vista. More clues too.
—Enough to track. Great—off to claim my invisibility cloak...!
“He’s awake!”
Then it happened. Goblins cried out in joy.
Turning, Nanaruk was rising slowly. She startled, scanning around—last memory: Deshunan’s attack.
Goblins explained. Pointing at me meant they knew I did it.
Nanaruk rushed over. I puffed my chest. Yeah, me—I slayed the Shadow Fairy.
She hugged me, spinning wildly.
“You saved me again!”
Spinning, she showered me with kisses. Ecstatic. First kiss since age five—and from a goblin. Too lucky. Nanaruk was catwalk-beauty from the start. Evolution made her prettier.
She hoisted me high, cheering. Dizzying. Cheers are group things, Nanaruk.
Goblins waved happily. Even old lady shaman waited yonder.
Someone shouted my name.
“Uluulululu!”
“Ouroboros!”
Wait, someone mangled Uluulululu. The shaman granny.
She called me Ouroboros; others chanted it.
Dementia? Uluulululu was tricky, sure.
“Ouroboros! Ouroboros!”
And anomaly struck. No epithet despite deaths—until now.
Ouroboros
Whoa? Ouroboros. Cool epithet. Heart-Eater was fine, but had to check this.
Or Uluulululu.
The serpent that summons lightning, devours evil. Or such a serpent god.
Worshipped by a tiny goblin faction now. As faith spreads, the epithet’s bearer gains fitting dignity.
Awesome. Too awesome—a serpent god. Worlds apart from Heart-Eater. No clear perks, but ‘dignity’ stirred my inner dark dragon.
Told Pellelian; he marveled.
—Definitely a monster’s epithet, not human... Now like those of calamity beasts transcending monster dignity. The loftiest monsters hold such.
—Especially growth-type. Power scales with your fame.
Ouroboros. I liked it. Felt good.
* * *
Pellelian’s dungeon was found again. News reached Iris Selena, still posing as Golden Leaf investigator.
Naturally, she sought the World Tree once more. Her expression climbing to the elder’s abode: resolute.
One defeat. One retreat. Failed to find Pellelian, let alone retrieve chimera samples from hero Gunter.
Humiliating. Infuriating. Even holding back, same. Full power? Still no win against that human hero.
Back home, Iris gritted teeth, honed body and mind mercilessly. Her aura now: a honed blade.
“Elder, I’ve arr—”
Her face soured instantly. Faces shouldn’t shift so fast—especially calm Iris.
But unavoidable. A human woman lounged sofa-sprawled, munching fairy cookies.
Iris’s most hated human.
“Oh, loser’s here!”
Blunt greeting. She flicked buttery fingers. Orange hair in twin tails, tight jacket atop, black leather pants hugging long legs. Backpack as big as her torso dumped nearby.
“Elder, why is she here?”
“No idea.”
Elder sipped tea, feigning ignorance. Iris’s glare spotted it: ornate tea caddy on desk. Human leaves, metal-trimmed luxury—not elven.
She got it. This woman bribed the elder at last.
“Langrei. Why come here?”
“Problem with a hunter entering the Great Forest? And call me by name, not title.”
Hunter. Her job: monster slayer. But Hairit Langrei was more famed as one of the Eight Heroes. Top-tier in great monster battles. Unbelievable power for her twenties.
Iris tried ignoring the rude savage.
“Elder, the reason you summoned me...”
“Heard Gunter beat you and you ran crying ‘waaah’?”
“...”
Iris wasn’t seasoned enough to fully mask emotions. Her forced mask cracked.
“...I didn’t cry. Did you say that, Elder?”
“Who knows.”
Glared; he dodged.
“Why’re you in the Great Forest, Langrei!”
“Your house or the elder’s? Fine, since you ask: Magic Tower tipped me. ‘Festival’ soon in the Great Forest.”
“Hm.”
Already that time? Iris frowned.
‘Festival’ wasn’t elven yearly rite. Natural phenomenon every few decades—for monsters. World Tree mana saturates, blooms, roots fruit, luring beasts. They devour each other, evolve repeatedly, birthing named monsters.
“This one’s huge, they say. Might trigger a Monster Wave.”
“You believe those doomsayers?”
No waves from Great Forest—common knowledge. But scholars warned: someday monsters would pour inland, unleashing forgotten terrors on kingdoms.
Never in Iris’s life.
“Eh, don’t care. Here to hunt monsters, bag that wanted Shadow Fairy for bounty.”
“Deshunan?”
“Yup, snag him too.”
“Short on coin?”
“Jealous? Cough up pocket money, granny.”
“...!”
Iris clenched fists, trembling. Young by elven years, but Langrei teased ‘granny’ often.
“Cute pants, right?”
Langrei stood, showing off. Black leather no ordinary hide.
“Skinned from a Black Shadowling.”
“Barbaric.”
“Upgrade your wardrobe. Always so dowdy. Next: jacket. Maybe...”
She made clothes from her kills.
“Snake leather. Love snakes.”
“...”
“One wearing Pellelian’s ring, huh? Couldn’t catch it either.”
Elder slipped away quietly. How much had she heard?
“Seriously, why fight Gunter? Told you he’s dangerous. Your half-baked swordplay can’t win. Use Pellelian’s magic instead.”
“...”
“Oh? Still sealing memories? Pathetic.”
Iris trembled silently. Bad at verbal sparring—always regretted comebacks later.
“Anyway, I’m off... Wait, what.”
Grinning Langrei froze, shocked. Tears welled in Iris’s eyes...?
“Get out.”
“R-right, bye.”
Cold dismissal; Langrei nodded hastily. Swift exit—befitting an Eight Hero.
Ahem, well...
Elder fake-cleared throat, tidying desk.
“Elder.”
“...Y-yes?”
“Pellelian’s dungeon... where?”
“Right, must tell you. Of course.”
Elder ignored her sparkling eyes.