Is This... Me?
"Please! Seriously, please! Just a little bit!"
"*Haaah...*"
My head was already spinning from having just woken up, and being subjected to this nonsense left me feeling so exasperated and drained that a deep sigh slipped out on its own. What infuriated me even more was that, despite the utter exhaustion, the situation wouldn't allow me to drop my guard for even a second.
"Come on, really! Just the tip! I swear I'll just dip it in and pull right out! All I want is to pop my cherry!"
"Back off while I'm still asking nicely, you lunatic... Wait, where the hell is everyone else? Muriel! Rebecca! Someone come handle this crazy bitch!"
"Calling them won't do you any good! They're all busy preparing dinner right now! Do you have any idea how much effort it took to pry those women away from your side?! This is my only chance!"
"It's only a chance for you! Argh, seriously! Get off me!"
"Kee-eeek...!!"
Her face firmly smothered beneath my palm, Tsarkhella flailed about, letting out pathetic whines like a puppy that had just had its meal snatched away.
"*Phew...*"
Still, judging by how easily my single hand kept her at bay, she clearly wasn't going all out. Looking at that expression of hers, she seemed like nothing short of a female in heat, but this had to be an act, right? If so, her performance was convincing enough to earn her a living on stage.
"Anyway... *hup*. Start explaining. What happened after that?"
"Ngggh-rrrk—!!"
Crack-crackle!
"......"
Whatever was running through her head, lightning actually began to crackle and spark from her body as she strained desperately to lunge forward. Yet, held back by my outstretched palm, she couldn't advance an inch.
It was only then that a strange sense of dissonance finally crept over me.
No matter how generously I looked at it, certain details defied the idea of mere playacting. For one thing, the lightning she discharged was actively scorching the surrounding rugs and drapery. For another, the sheer driving force of her footing was tearing through the carpet and gouging the frozen earth beneath the yurt. Yet despite all that violence, none of it fazed me in the slightest. This had already ventured far beyond the realm of simple acting.
"What the...?"
Tilting my head in confusion, I pushed myself up, only to find my upper body rising with effortless ease. And that was with Tsarkhella's entire weight pressing directly against me.
"Mgggh...?!"
Only then did I get a proper look at her face squished against my palm. She was, by all accounts, completely dumbfounded. In other words, purely going by the physical reality of the situation, my raw strength had grown monstrous enough to overpower her entirely.
"Am I dreaming...?"
Realistically and logically, none of this made any sense, so the thought crossed my mind quite naturally.
"How is this even possible? Nothing seems all that different... wait, no, it definitely is."
At the moment, I was wearing only a single, loose-fitting garment made of breathable fabric. Through the gap Tsarkhella had apparently tried to yank open, I caught sight of abdominal muscles carved as sharply as blocks of factory-pressed chocolate. I blinked, staring down at my torso in stunned silence.
"What in the world is this...?"
Finding my own body in such a state felt so bizarre that a sudden twinge of dread prickled at the back of my neck. I hastily parted the tunic. Past the dark lines of a shamanic ritual tattoo shaped like a stalking wolf, squarely sculpted pectorals, serratus muscles coiled like steel springs, and bulging lats spreading from my back all flexed in bold display, flanked by thick forearms laced with prominent veins.
"It's like my entire body went through a complete physical metamorphosis... Wait. Did I actually reconstitute my marrow?"
From the haze of my fractured memories, the realization that my physical form had been thoroughly pulverized and reconstructed finally surfaced. A shiver ran down my spine as the phantom memory of that agonizing pain rushed back.
"*Gulp...!*"
"...Don't swallow your spit like that. It's so creepy I'm seriously tempted to kill you."
I had wondered why she had suddenly gone quiet. Taking a step back, Tsarkhella was now staring intently at my bare torso, her throat bobbing as she swallowed heavily.
"Kang Han-gil. Do you have any idea how insanely hot you look right now?"
"Don't say shit like that. Please... it gives me the creeps."
Letting out a weary sigh, I pulled my collar closed.
"No, I'm not just flattering you! Your whole appearance has completely changed! Ah! You still don't know, do you? Hold on!"
Dashing across the yurt in a flurry, she rummaged noisily through a pile of belongings before returning with a large, roughly crafted hand mirror.
"Here! Take a look!"
"What's with all the fuss—?!"
The moment the mirror was shoved before my eyes, the words caught in my throat.
"Is this... me?"
Reflected in the glass was a striking man wearing a stunned expression—a face that looked as though Stanasila Alzen and Kang Han-gil had been split straight down the middle and seamlessly fused together.
"What kind of...?"
Reacting just as I had when I first possessed this body, I tilted my head from side to side, inspecting the contours from every angle. Alzen had originally possessed sharp, distinctly Western features and presence, but now, East Asian traits and atmospheric nuances were woven subtly into the mix. It was as though I were looking at someone of mixed heritage.
"...Did the soul reshape the flesh during the physical reconstitution?"
Recalling the theories Weller had once rambled about, I tried my best to assess the situation rationally. Yet, even through the confusion, I couldn't suppress the sly grin tugging at the corners of my lips.
It was a sensation of pure, untainted refreshment and liberation—as though an unyielding chain had finally shattered, or I had broken free from a suffocatingly narrow cage.
"Ha, hahaha...!"
My entire body grew warmly invigorated, as if a crushing weight that had pressed upon my shoulders for ages had just vanished into thin air. A dizzying sense of euphoria surged through me, not unlike standing bare beneath the wind atop a soaring mountain peak, looking down upon the world.
"Look at you, grinning from ear to ear. Here I am feeling all conflicted because my younger brother's body went and changed... though if you asked me which version I prefer, I'd pick this one in a heartbeat."
Watching me with an amused smile, Tsarkhella subtly wound an arm around my shoulder.
"So that's what your real face looks like? Kang Han-gil."
"...Not entirely. If I had to describe it, it feels more like a half-and-half split."
"Oho, is that so? Well, for a half-and-half, it's remarkably harmonious, handsome, and mysterious. It carries a sense of strength, yet somehow triggers a maternal urge to protect, all wrapped up in a languid, decadent charm... Honestly, I want to devour you right this second."
"Please, cut the bullshit and shut up."
"Kyuuuk—!"
When I planted my hand firmly against her face and shoved her back, she let out that same squished-puppy squeal, straining every muscle in her neck to keep from being pushed away.
"...Are you actually using your full strength right now?"
"Ngggh...! Can't you tell?! I'm using every ounce of muscle I have!"
"Does this... even make sense? Where did this kind of strength come from?"
"Damn it! It's probably the shamanic tattoos combining with divine authority! Even so, this is completely off the charts!"
Rubbing her squashed cheek with an aggrieved pout, she licked her lips and immediately began sidling up to me once more. As her persistently warm skin pressed against mine and her clammy hands drifted toward my chest and ribs, goosebumps prickled across my flesh. I shoved her back once more and fired off a question.
"I'd appreciate a detailed explanation. Can a shamanic ritual tattoo really alter someone's physical body like this?"
"I've never seen anyone undergo a complete metamorphosis like you did, but usually, when you assimilate a prey's strength through a tattoo, your body changes little by little."
"Hmm... And what did you mean by divine authority?"
"Lord Kubel's authority, obviously! Word is you hunted Lord Kubel's avatar and absorbed the entire thing whole, didn't you? You should understand that far better than I do."
"...Fair point. That makes sense."
I could feel it instinctively.
What I was capable of doing right now, what power lay dormant within me, and how freely I could wield it.
"This is..."
Summoning the sensation into my inner mental landscape, I slowly unraveled and analyzed its structure until I could put at least a portion of it into words.
"...A beast."
"Huh?"
"The divine authority of the Beast God Kubel. It manifests the symbols and concepts of beasts as actual physical phenomena."
"What does that even mean? Sounds awfully vague."
"Just think of it as me getting stupidly strong. It's not the complete, unadulterated authority, but even like this, I could probably beat you."
"Oho?"
At my words, Tsarkhella's eyes ignited with competitive fervor.
"Then how about another round with me right now?"
"Like hell I'd fight you again. Get lost."
"*Tch...!* Getting cocky just because you got a little stronger...! If I knew this would happen, I would've eaten you up while you were still weak! I never should have put it on hold back then! I should have forced the marriage through right then and there!"
"From where I'm standing, dodging that was the greatest blessing of my life. *Whew...*"
Pushing myself up slowly, I rolled my joints and stretched my limbs to gauge the state of my body.
"...Wow."
Even that brief test was enough to tell me everything I needed to know. The performance of this vessel had already surpassed the boundaries of mortal men. Strength, flexibility, spring, endurance... every single parameter had soared far beyond the domain of ordinary superhumans.
"Not that I'll have many occasions to actually use it, but having a great body never hurts."
Up until now, I had only ended up on the front lines due to extraordinary, unavoidable crises, but by nature, I had zero desire to fight. Even now, my sole plan was to dump every single responsibility onto the hero the moment one was chosen. But that was that; who would turn down gaining a flawless physique and overwhelming strength without shedding a drop of sweat? Especially in a medieval fantasy death trap riddled with lurking dangers at every turn.
"The only issue is..."
Raising the mirror once more, I studied the unfamiliar visage. It was a face that would look exotic to me, and just as foreign to the inhabitants of this world. Neither Stanasila Alzen nor Kang Han-gil... but an uncanny synthesis that extracted only the finest features of both. If I had to rate it, I was more than satisfied, but that very satisfaction brought a massive headache.
"How on earth am I supposed to explain this...?"
Returning to the Duke's Castle with a face like this would cause an absolute uproar. Duke Urtega wouldn't give a damn, but Duchess Pitra... honestly, I couldn't even begin to imagine how she would react. In fact, it terrified me. If she had a complete psychological breakdown and lost her mind, how was I even supposed to handle her?
"...Whatever. I'll cross that bridge when I get there."
A flood of conflicting emotions washed over me, but I decided to place myself at the top of my priorities for once. Considering all the absurd misery I had been subjected to, wasn't I entitled to at least this much? Besides, after finally shedding the suffocating skin of that damned Stanasila Alzen, I had no desire to ruin this rare high with unanswerable worries.
"Hm?"
Just then, a strange sensation pricked my senses.
"...Someone's coming."
Presumably, this was the so-called 'presence' that high-tier combatants were always rambling about. A faint rustle of sound, a subtle shift in ambient warmth, the minute displacement of air, an unfamiliar scent... combined with an indefinable sixth sense and pure instinct, I could tell with absolute certainty that someone was approaching the yurt from outside.
It was an unfamiliar sensation, but for that very reason, it felt novel, thrilling, and endlessly fascinating. So this was the perceptual realm Masters lived in every day, was it? Keeping all the fun to themselves, the bastards.
"...You are awake, Lord Han-gil. That is a profound relief."
Drawing back the yurt's entrance flap, Muriel stepped inside. Her face maintained its usual flat, unreadable mask, but the moment her eyes met mine, she paused mid-stride.
"...Muriel."
"Yes, Lord Han-gil."
"I changed quite a bit. Does it look weird?"
"Lord Han-gil is simply Lord Han-gil. And on a personal note, I find this appearance far more pleasing and joyous to behold."
"Why's that?"
"Because you have been liberated from the source and the shackles that brought you such torment. Even if it is not a complete liberation... it will surely be far less agonizing than before."
"...You're right. You really understand me."
Just as a self-conscious smile began to form on my lips, Muriel added without missing a beat:
"Furthermore, this means we can now make babies together, so how could I not be thrilled? Sex is finally unlocked."
"......"
I genuinely couldn't tell whether I should praise her unwavering consistency or chew her out for completely destroying the mood.