Transformation
The frantic trip to the dermatologist settled Yerna's nerves more than she had expected. Contrary to her worst fears, the diagnosis was nothing serious — simply molting. Shedding, in other words.
She had always believed that only lizardfolk beastmen molted. Apparently not. Mammalian beastmen did it too, and even the occasional human whose ancestry carried the trait could, in rare cases, shed their skin. Something about how thoroughly the bloodlines of other races had mixed into people these days.
"……."
Luke, however, found it difficult to simply accept that explanation.
"So. Now I understand for certain."
At last he peeled away the flaking, crumbling layer that had covered his entire body, casting it off the way one sheds an outer coat. Beneath the discarded husk lay skin of flawless smoothness — clean, new, and impossibly soft.
So he really had molted.
"Luke Irushi… just what did you create?"
He murmured it like a private question to himself. Luke was no fool. He could finally see the true condition of his own body for what it was.
There was no chance his ancestors had carried a molting trait. If he had truly been trying to forge an immortal vessel, he would never have used such a mongrel stock. Magical materials were always at their finest when pure. An unnecessary hereditary trait like that would never have been left in — and if it had somehow slipped through, he would have excised it himself. Of that he was certain. He would never have chosen such material for the work of immortality.
And yet this body molted. Which meant…
The horns. The mana capacity. And now — the shedding.
"They used a dragon as material for this body."
Why had the Third Circle refused to take for so long? The answer was simple and clear. All this time, he had assumed his heart was a human heart.
Luke carefully laid a hand over his chest and murmured,
"This was a Dragon Heart."
That was the secret behind the absurd volume of mana he felt whenever he meditated. His heart was not a human heart at all.
He looked at his reflection in the mirror. Those horns he had taken for a cow's or a goat's — they had been a dragon's traits asserting themselves all along. The pieces of this body were finally falling into place.
This body was a chimera. An optimally designed magical vessel, built to dissolve immortality into flesh. Constructed to the bare minimum specifications needed to contain a fragment of the Infinite…
"I truly did something absurd, didn't I."
A dragon and some nameless magical beast — blending those two must have been a nightmare of labor. Whether the immortality project had ever been completed, he couldn't say. But he might well have created the most powerful terrestrial life-form in existence.
A chimera powered by a Dragon Heart!
And now he himself was the one piloting it?
As a mage, he could hardly help but be excited. What heights might such a vessel reach? And how, exactly, had he managed to do this?
A secret art that rewrote a species from its very foundation was impossible. A soul could not take root in another race. That was an unbreakable law of the world. There were records of attempts — but never once had he seen a success.
Which left one other possibility…
Did I merely transfer the memories?
But that explanation left too many things unresolved. Why transfer every last memory into a manufactured chimera? Why implant an ego so complete that he still thought of himself as Luke Irushi? And why in a body that looked so young and fragile?
A complete memory transfer was, in itself, an act of self-rejection.
The sort of thing a lich would do.
The foundation of magic lay in belief in oneself. A mage had to be arrogant, had to be proud — and so a mage never did anything so base as clone himself.
Which meant…
Luke spoke in a grave tone.
"Pai."
-……?
"Would you step aside for a moment? I am about to inscribe the Third Circle."
The Circles were already nearly saturated. The mana he had accumulated to his current limit rivaled what he had commanded in his days as an Eighth-Circle mage. To hold that much power and still only be able to form the framework of a Third Circle — a serious mana storm was inevitable. A spirit like Pai would not escape the effects, so evacuating her first was the correct course.
Luke hummed a quiet, gentle melody. The emotion woven into it was simple:
Don't worry.
Receiving that feeling, Pai drifted anxiously around the room for a moment, then finally nodded and slipped out of Luke's sight.
Luke watched her go, then closed his eyes.
In a body that held not a human heart, but a dragon's.
Yerna sighed, thinking back to the hospital visit.
"Even now, just remembering that day…"
"Yeah, that must've been a real shock."
Dighton answered in a tone meant to soothe her. Fair enough — if a kid's skin suddenly started peeling off, he would have panicked too. Still, the idea that humans could molt was news to him. Come to think of it, Deana shed an absurd amount of dead skin whenever she scrubbed herself. Maybe she had some lizardfolk beastman in her bloodline somewhere.
Wait. That's my little sister.
A self-inflicted burn if ever there was one. Dighton snorted at his own joke, then lifted the meal basket Yerna had asked him to bring.
"So that's why you wanted this?"
"They said nutrition is important after molting. Thanks for doing this for me."
"H-hey, no problem. Happy to help. Haha."
Yerna's pure gratitude left Dighton scratching the back of his head with an awkward smile.
"I'll take it in, then. You should head back to your quarters and get some sleep. Standing guard and cooking on top of that — you must be exhausted."
It was true. Dighton had pulled night duty yesterday, which meant he was free today. And yet he had cheerfully hauled the food all the way here simply because Yerna had asked him to cook.
He pushed through the fatigue and managed a grin.
"Haha, I'm fine. Without my stamina, there's nothing left of me."
"Yeah, you do look the part. Still — go get some rest. You look tired."
When Dighton flexed his arm to show off a bicep, Yerna snorted a laugh. The way he then put on a moved expression at being worried over struck her as genuinely odd.
She watched his back as he headed for his quarters, a soft smile touching her lips.
No matter how many times I see him, he's so reliable.
A little too reliable, if she was honest. She still didn't understand what Luke saw in him… though he was clearly a good cook. Maybe that was the reason.
"Maybe I should learn to cook a little myself."
Seasoning would be beyond her, though.
Luke already cooked alone these days, and watching that sometimes left Yerna feeling like a thoroughly inadequate guardian.
Strange, though. The forest is awfully quiet.
Not even birdsong. An unnatural stillness hung over everything.
"Eh, it's probably nothing…"
The GPS was calm, at least. Just a coincidence.
Yerna pushed open the door of her somewhat distant quarters and called out,
"Lu, Unni's here! Look at this — Dighton even made you snac—"
Thud.
The words died unfinished. The basket of Dighton's cooking hit the ground and rolled. Sandwiches, hamburgers, and the rest of its contents spilled out across the floor.
"What is this…?"
What stood inside the quarters was not Luke, but an enormous shadow. Beneath it, scraps of white and black cloth lay scattered in a chaotic mess across the floor.
With trembling hands, Yerna picked up a torn piece of fabric and whispered,
"Th-this is…"
There was no mistaking it. The clothes Luke always wore — the ones he had been wearing last.
-Kiii…
It turned its body toward her.
"Hoo…"
Back in his quarters, Dighton took a thorough shower. He stood under the running water, staring blankly as it swirled down the drain. This heavy languor was proof of genuine exhaustion.
"I'm definitely tired."
He had gotten up early to cook the meal Yerna asked for, cutting into his sleep. If she asked again, though, he would do it all over without complaint.
"Heh. Still, being worried over feels pretty good."
He hadn't let the fatigue show, not wanting to make her worry — but if being fretted over felt this nice, maybe he should have played it up a little more.
No. Yerna likes the manly type.
Dighton shook his head hard. She had said as much at the theater. Watching that sturdy actor play a high-intelligence golem from the future, she had called him cool. From that day on, that muscle-bound big brother had been Dighton's role model.
Working out for the sake of the image had somehow turned into actually enjoying the exercise…
Well, I was already training hard to begin with…
He just hadn't been building deliberately "manly" muscle before.
He finished bathing and was toweling his hair dry, about to catch some sleep, when it hit him.
"Hm?"
A sudden surge of mana brushed against Dighton's senses.
"That's not Luke's mana."
A mana signature radically different from the usual. Sensing something wrong, Dighton expanded his awareness.
Luke's mana is gone… and something monster-like is registering instead.
The source was unmistakably Yerna's quarters. Which meant Yerna would be nearby as well.
Dighton wrenched open his locker, strapped on his gauntlets, and bolted out the door. Sprinting at full speed, he found Yerna standing dazed in front of her quarters, staring at the monster.
No mana signature from her — she hadn't even activated physical reinforcement.
"Yerna!"
His shout snapped her back. She called his name.
"Dighton?"
Dighton chanted a body-enhancement spell and threw himself between Yerna and the monster. The creature was larger than the doorframe itself. He planted himself protectively in front of her and asked,
"Yerna — your staff?"
"I-in the quarters…"
"…Tch."
No choice, then. He would have to draw it outside.
Dighton clenched his fists, dropped his weight slightly, and settled into a combat stance. The mana he was sensing put this thing at large-class minimum, and its form was a completely new monster he had never seen before.
"Yerna, I'll draw it off. When I do, get inside and grab your staff."
"Dighton, will you be okay alone…?"
-Kiiiiiiik.
One step. It closed the distance to the very threshold of the door. The shadow cast over its body shifted, and its full form came into view.
Its entire body was covered in platinum-blonde fur. Atop its head sat long, sharp ears of unknown origin, and from either side jutted a pair of enormous horns.
Dighton clicked his tongue.
"Tch. What kind of furry dragon is this?"
Could he win? Who knew. He would find out by trying.
Feeling the enhancement magic wrapping his body, Dighton woke every muscle once more, ready to react at an instant's notice.
"On three. One… two…"
Yerna looked into the eyes of the creature that stood a full two heads taller than she was.
Teal and gold…?
Those odd eyes — that coloring — wasn't it far too familiar? And that bandage on its neck…
"Three!"
"Wait, Dighton — stop!"
"What?"
Wham—!
Dighton found himself already flat on the ground, tumbling across the floor.
What the hell was that…?
An all-too-familiar method of restraint. Don't tell me.
"Luke?" "Is that you, Luke?"
-Kiiiing.
It — no, Luke — nodded.