Chapter 2
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 2
Chapter Title: This Much Is a Breeze
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Pastel stopped whittling the wooden block.
Her breath came in heavy gasps. Her hands and arms trembled. Her heated body temperature chased away the chill.
The finished wooden awl was blunt, but sharp enough to be threatening.
She carefully poked her palm with it, feeling the pointed pressure. If she drove it in with force, it would pierce right through.
The corner of her mouth twitched upward.
"Do I have a talent for crafting?"
This was awl-level quality that would have been top-tier in the Stone Age.
"My talent: Stone Age."
Primitive genes were alive and well.
She set down her finished weapon. After a short rest, she slowly stretched. Her body shivered in the cold air.
Apart from the hunger, her stamina wasn't bad. Her body felt a little strange. Were survival hormones pumping through her forcibly?
Gotta end this quick.
She picked up the wooden awl and stared straight at the door. Steeling herself, she approached. She pressed her ear to the door. She couldn't quite sense any presence beyond it.
To shake off the tension, she glanced around the room and carefully nudged the door's bar lock.
In the silence, the bar moved quietly. The lock released without a sound.
She gripped the doorknob and steeled herself again. She let out a deep breath.
One, two, three!
She yanked the door open boldly.
Right in front of her loomed a ferocious black wolf. Its fangs bared in an instant.
Tension prickled her skin like needles.
"Come at me...!"
The black body charged.
Pastel twisted her body and leaned against the door like a shield. Planting her feet, she threw her body weight into slamming it shut.
"Uryaa!"
The charging wolf crashed into the door with a thunderous boom. Ugh! Heavy. The black beast collided like it was jammed in the doorway. The wolf let out a furious roar.
Pastel fell back, then rammed her body into it again. The impact rattled the door. The noise echoed. The wolf howled in agony.
She could feel the wolf thrashing against the door. One wild kick pushed it back.
Overpowered in raw strength.
Without hesitation, she gripped the wooden awl. She charged at the dazed wolf.
Putting her full body weight behind it, she slammed the awl down. It pierced the nape, and black energy spurted out like blood. Pastel spat out the energy she'd inhaled and pressed the awl down hard.
The wolf roared. Its black body shook violently. Ack! Hit by the thrashing body, Pastel was flung away and tumbled across the floor. Her pink hair whipped through the air.
Ugh, damn it.
She propped herself up on the floor, forcing her aching body to rise.
The sound of the beast leaping.
She hurriedly rolled to the side. The black shape bit down on where she'd just been.
Weapon, weapon!
Her hand suddenly grabbed a blanket. Pastel clutched it and leaped to her feet. The wolf charged.
She dodged while flapping the blanket. The fabric wrapped around the wolf, blunting its sharp fangs and claws as it tangled with the black body.
The wolf staggered, tearing at the wrapped blanket.
Let's see how long this holds...!
Pastel leaped toward the wolf. She crouched swiftly and slammed her full body down.
Her body struck the awl in the nape. Ack! The awl pierced through the nape amid rough resistance.
The wolf thrashed once, then went still.
"Haa, haa."
Pastel panted, leaning against the carcass.
Gotcha.
She staggered to her feet.
She stared blankly at the blanket-wrapped corpse.
Am I actually pretty good at fighting?
She swept her hair back with both hands. Pink strands wrapped around her fingers. She wiped the sweat from her forehead.
"Piece of trash dares to come at me."
She idly kicked the corpse.
Her strength gave out, and she plopped down on her butt.
"Ow! Oof."
Her whole body throbbed. Arms, legs—nowhere wasn't sore. Scrapes stung all over her skin.
She leaned back against the blanket pile like a makeshift bed.
"Hua."
Feels like death warmed over.
A dry cough escaped her. Her stomach growled with hunger, and her throat burned. At least moving around had made her less cold—that was something.
Pastel relaxed her limbs and rested. Her muscles loosened languidly.
Haa. Starving like this—what a mess. I want food. Soup and bread sound amazing.
She licked her lips. Huh? A sweet taste lingered in her mouth. Sweet and alluring.
Not an illusion. Definitely sweet. But she hadn't eaten anything—why?
The moment she'd inhaled and then spat out the wolf's black energy flashed in her mind.
Pastel hurriedly flung off the blanket. The black corpse came into view. The wolf's shape had somewhat collapsed, now soft. Like meat pudding.
A sweet aroma wafted around.
Her salivary glands tingled.
Pastel blankly reached out a hand, then flinched.
"Huh!"
She wiped her mouth and shook her head quickly.
Looked ferocious and evil as hell.
Poison, poison.
Humans shouldn't eat this.
Snap out of it, Pastel!
Mind...!
Pastel shoved her face into the corpse.
The black flesh chewed like meat pudding. Sweetness filled her mouth. Her nerves buzzed with thrill.
Her brain sparked.
Euphoria of reclaiming what was lost.
Satisfaction filling the void.
Essence and origin.
What the soul craves.
The last bite went into her mouth.
Part of the energy melted into her bones and muscles.
The girl trembled with empty hands.
She was still hungry.
Eating the meat pudding felt amazing. Maybe an illusion, but she even felt stronger.
Her actual hunger hadn't budged, though.
Feels just like chugging a potion and crashing for a full rest.
Somehow the emptiness was gone.
Licking her lips, Pastel peeked her head out to scan the corridor.
Window walls to left and right, and a corner corridor. Only one other room on this hallway.
"Ah, it's a corner room."
She sauntered out into the corridor. She'd grabbed the wooden awl, but she wasn't on high alert.
No changes in the mansion during all that commotion. No dangerous creatures in sight. The lack of servants was the real issue.
"Ugh, hungry."
At least her thirst was quenched.
Wonder where the kitchen is.
Pastel rubbed her belly and turned the corner. Her view opened up to a new corridor.
And she spotted two wolves. Black energy oozed menacingly. Fortunately, they were looking elsewhere.
Her walking froze mid-step, then relaxed quickly.
Friends, nothing happened here.
Pastel backed away quietly, like rewinding footage.
She made it back to the corner without incident. Her tensed muscles relaxed.
Almost died.
She wiped away needless cold sweat.
All that noise, and they're right around the corner?
She'd made footsteps, even muttered about being hungry. Even if they weren't real wolves, still.
Pastel frowned.
Bad hearing, maybe?
There were some weird things.
The fight had been noisy enough to alert garden monsters. Yet the garden was silent.
They all have crap hearing? What could she do with that? Assassinate them?
She glanced at the wooden awl in her hand. The tip had blunted from rough use.
Her mind went blank.
She imagined fighting two wolves.
Sneak in, stab!
Eh, not dead?
Stab! Stab! Ack!
Friends, don't do me like this...!
Is this how a popular girl dies?!
Pastel clutched her head. She retraced her steps. There was one unchecked room.
Surely there's a sword in there. At least a dagger. Or even a kitchen knife.
Tense for different reasons, Pastel carefully opened the new room. She peeked inside.
The layout was the same as the previous room.
Even the barren furnishings.
Wall, floor, wall, floor.
No—a wooden table toppled in the corner.
No decent weapons...
Pastel staggered and leaned against the door. She banged her head thinking, then groped the door.
Could the door be a weapon?
She examined the iron hinges, then gave up as impossible.
This time, she groped the window frame and glass. No dice.
She walked to the fallen table.
A round table with a single leg in the center.
Round one-legged table.
She could see why it fell. The base of the leg that should support it was broken.
"Hmm."
The round top was broad, the leg elongated. If she grabbed the leg, it might work like a hammer? Could she lift it?
Lifting the table leg with both hands, it was hefty. Heavy, but liftable.
She carried it to the center of the room. Gripping the legs with both hands, she swung it like a hammer.
Her body wobbled, her stance crumbling slightly. The round top smacked the floor. The noise echoed.
Pastel startled and stared at the locked door. She waited, but no change in presence outside.
"They really have bad hearing."
Lucky.
She set the table down and brushed off her hands.
Too heavy for long use, wobbly for short bursts. Not bad against one wolf.
But there were two.
If she wobbled, it'd bite her easily.
Still, Pastel cheered in triumph.
"Better than the wooden awl!"
Her weapon had upgraded from junk to proper gear.
Yay.
She examined the table more closely. Weight was the issue. She wanted to lighten it. Where to kick to break it just right?
She noticed the seam between the round top and leg. Huh? She reached out and twisted them in opposite directions.
Something clicked inside.
Clack.
No way, this thing...
She swallowed dryly. She gripped the table leg and top, pulling in opposite directions. They separated easily.
Pastel grabbed the table leg. For the round top, she slipped her hand into the joint and lifted.
One hand: table leg.
Other hand: broad round top.
This is...!
Pastel stood and hoisted her new gear high. Sunlight from the window illuminated the wooden equipment.
"Spear and shield!"
Brilliant choice!
Pastel practiced in the center of the room.
She thrust with the sharpened table leg.
Stab! Stab!
Heavy, but the feel was different. Thanks to separating and holding them apart.
This time, she mimed blocking with the round top.
Thud!
Heavy for sure, but manageable. With her hand in the joint, the weight's center stayed close to her body, making it way easier.
"Nice."
She assumed a stance and imagined a fight.
A black wolf charged.
"Woof woof!"
Pastel firmly raised the round top.
"Thud!"
The wolf slammed into the top.
She quickly thrust the table leg.
"Stab!"
The pierced wolf screamed and dropped dead.
"Perfect! Let's go!"
Elated with her loot, Pastel strode confidently forward. The corridor corner came into view.
She turned boldly—but peeked her head out instead.
Two wolves looking the other way. Black energy radiating menace. Pure evil aura at first glance.
Tasty...
No, not that.
Pastel wiped her drool.
Lure just one.
She set down the spear and pulled out the wooden awl. Extended one arm into throwing position.
One, two, three.
Throw!
The awl whizzed through the air and smacked a wolf's head. The black wolf yelped in a surprisingly cute way and startled.
The wolf looked around, spotted her, and charged ferociously. The one behind hadn't reacted yet.
Pastel ducked behind the corner. She grabbed the spear and readied herself.
The wolf rounded the corner and charged. She shielded her body with the top.
Come on in.
The wolf crouched low, aiming for her legs.
Ah, quadrupedal, huh?
She tossed the spear toward the ceiling and gripped the shield with both hands. Squatting like she was sitting, she slammed the edge down. The shield's edge met the wolf's muzzle. Teeth clashed with a harsh grind. The jaws clamped shut like they might shatter.
Pastel rose and reached one hand toward the ceiling. The falling, spinning spear landed perfectly in her grasp. She thrust down hard with her body weight. The trajectory pierced the wolf's eye and burrowed into its brain.
The wolf roared and staggered. She kicked it away. The spear pulled free as the wolf collapsed. A sweet scent spread.
Beast footsteps echoed from beyond the corner.
The girl charged right back at it.
The wolf was just rounding the corner.
Putting her running momentum behind it, she thrust the spear with all her might. The trajectory plunged into its opening maw.
Flesh tore with a wet rip.
Strong pressure gripped it.
The spear pierced straight through its body.