The Art of Proof (1)
Another chance.
When he first met them, they had been terror incarnate. The abyssal monsters clad in black carapace attacked and butchered people without the slightest mercy.
The village where Lark had lived had been no different. If not for their massive assault, one that had seemed poised to swallow the entire barony whole, he never would have abandoned his home and set out along that unstable road of refugees.
And then there was Lena, who had dropped from the sky after that. The fear had reached its peak then. Lena was slaughter itself. Mercy and common sense meant nothing to her.
And yet she had not killed Lark on the spot. Even though he had been nothing but a helpless little boy with no strength to resist.
Compatibility.
Now Lark understood why she had spared him. He had been a “valuable resource” with 61% compatibility.
That was why they had saved him from the brink of death after a stray arrow from the knights nearly killed him. And that was where he had met them.
A presence he could not properly remember, and yet could instinctively tell was the one who ruled over him.
That presence had given Lark a chance. A chance that could surely grant strength to an ordinary farm boy who had always been weak and powerless until then.
Of course, Lark had seized that chance. Without that level of resolve, he would never have survived this long in the first place.
"Are you awake?"
When he opened his eyes in the new body that had fully recovered from its injuries, the first thing he saw was a blonde woman looking down at his cocoon.
"It’ll take you a little while to get used to your body, but it won’t take long. Rest for now. I know who you are, and I know you’ve been granted permission by that one."
With a gentle smile, Karin spoke in a calm and kind voice.
Lark, whose attention was instead fixed on the huge, beautiful butterfly wings spread behind her back, looked down at his own transformed body.
His body as a Minion had not changed all that much, thanks to his high compatibility. But the black tendrils that had burst from his back at the slightest mistake still writhed, moving according to his will.
Lark wasn’t particularly shocked by it. Now that he had become one of them and joined Ascalas’s network of communications, basic knowledge like that came to him naturally, without needing to be taught.
"If you prove your will and achieve merit, you’ll naturally earn the right to grow. What do you want? What made you accept this path?"
"I..."
Lark knew that the high-ranking beings under Ascalas, while preserving their own selves, each had their own purpose. And he was no different.
But the moment he tried to speak the thing buried deep inside his heart, the words wouldn’t come easily.
"It’s hard to say, isn’t it? Maybe because that desire is filthy, ugly, or wrong. But only now have I realized something. It has value simply because it exists."
She nodded as if she understood Lark’s hesitation, then spoke first.
"Now that you’ve become one with us, you must already know what drives us. My purpose is a little different from Lena’s or Robinson’s. It isn’t my greatest wish to live just to hear a single word of praise from that one, nor is it growth through battle against strong foes. What I truly want is for our proud kind to cover this world—and for that truth to be proclaimed to all under heaven."
She lifted a fist to the sky, then smiled with satisfaction before turning back to Lark. Before he knew it, he could only stare up at her blankly, lost in the pull of her words as her eyes glowed a soft red.
"It’s not the sort of thought some mere village girl can hold. That’s what true desire is."
"I... I have to take revenge."
Her words and her gaze carried power. Bound up with the patterns painted across her wings, that power made Lark, whose heart was already wavering, confess the truth without meaning to.
"Revenge. That may be the most common motive of all."
Karin gave a bitter smile at that answer. If he thought about it, she too had once been driven by that same flame of vengeance.
The one who killed my mother was my stepfather.
Years ago. Even when he was younger than he was now, little Lark had already known the truth. The brute who had forced himself on his widowed mother, the abuse and neglect that followed as though they were only natural.
Perhaps the reason Lark had ground his teeth and endured it all was that he had seen with his own eyes his mother being murdered, and her body buried in secret where no one could see.
Rage and hatred that surpassed fear. And yet, for a boy who had not yet grown, the power and means to exact revenge had always been just out of reach.
"M-maybe I just didn’t have the courage. If I’d gone at him ready to die, I might have been able to beat him when he was off guard."
"That doesn’t matter anymore."
After hearing his story, Karin smiled faintly. In truth, no matter what Lark’s circumstances had been, the story of the past no longer mattered.
"You were chosen. Think only of that. Is there a child in this world more unfortunate than you? But unlike them, you have what it takes. Revenge? That was only one condition, after all."
"But what I want..."
"First, become strong by any means necessary and get your revenge. Then you’ll understand. You’ll understand what it is that you truly desire."
She spoke with certainty. With the certainty that Lark, having achieved his first objective through Ascalas’s power, would surely awaken to his true purpose and, like them, become part of the swarm that lived for it. After all, that was what compatibility meant from the beginning.
Giving someone the power to achieve revenge. That was nothing more than bait, like handing someone a potion to heal a wrist injury.
I have to grow stronger. More!
After his meeting with Karin, Lark threw himself into his work as a full-fledged Minion of Ascalas.
He did not hesitate to do whatever was necessary to have his qualifications recognized. The reason he clung so desperately to life was for revenge.
To kill the enemy who had abandoned even the people of his village and fled alone, hiding inside Forum Castle like a rat.
"Black Beetles!"
"Everyone, arms up! But I don’t see any hornets or scorpions!"
With several other Minions at his side, Lark raided a village that had been repairing its palisade. Since they could not keep running forever, the villagers had chosen to grit their teeth and fight to protect their land and livestock, arming themselves and standing their ground.
I can do anything.
Lark did not even hesitate to hurt them. Before any order could reach him, he had his own will. The will to obtain what he wanted at any cost, by sacrificing whatever was necessary.
[The stats of Minion Lark (D) have reached their limit.]
And at last, through that blood, Lark was recognized as qualified.
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"So Brant is still in no shape to recover."
"Yes. It hasn’t fallen to the enemy, or anything of that sort, but it seems impossible to eradicate every Black Beetle that has already spread throughout the barony."
"Things are becoming complicated."
While Lark was absorbed in his growth, there were those watching the situation from far away, and one of them, Baron Baut, frowned deeply after hearing the report.
"Personally, I can’t say I like those monsters."
He muttered to himself as he pictured the black-carapaced creatures. The newly born monsters known as Black Beetles had weakened his rival and effectively handed him victory in the competition, but even that had limits.
If the Black Beetles weren’t satisfied with the Brant Barony, then the land around it—his own barony—would inevitably be next.
It’s come back on me.
He had a bad feeling about this. He had refused to ask for help when his rival was being driven down, but now he might be the one forced to ask for it.
Just as he had once stood by, watching for a chance while Brant Barony was reduced to ashes, the other factions would not help him if the same thing happened to him.
Since the influence of the Earl of Leorn, the house he served, had already begun to fade, the overheated rivalry and tension among them had become as brittle and dangerous as a taut string that could snap at any moment.
"If anything, I’d rather those monsters rampage more. Then we’d be forced to join hands. But the Black Beetles are balancing things with terrible precision. If only Baron Brant would finally stop breathing!"
"Those, those beasts are greedy, uncivilized animals. They’ll attack indiscriminately, for certain."
"But if the bastards who devoured Brant’s land should ever extend their reach to only one side, that would be the worst possible outcome. Especially if that side is ours."
The steward looked as though he couldn’t understand why Baut was so agitated, but the baron couldn’t shake the sense of foreboding. And the source of that foreboding was the report of a subordinate who should have returned by now, but hadn’t.
"M-My lord! The border area! Black Beetles have appeared!"
But before a single day had passed, his fears began to return in the worst possible form.
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