I should head down to the Lower District soon. That’s what came to mind when I saw the piles of meat tucked away in a corner of my den, emitting a pungent odor.
Even though I can’t eat them, they’re strangely coveted by humans—things like suspiciously glowing stones or organs emanating eerie light, and the horns of beasts or monsters. Such items.
When I asked the receptionist who speaks a language I can understand where these things might be used, she replied that she wasn’t quite sure.
While they’re of little use to me, taking them down to the Lower District could yield some decent bartering opportunities. I could trade those chunks for gold or silver coins, then exchange those for various human-made foods.
However, rotten or poor-conditioned goods won’t fetch their proper value, so I need to go before these valuable items turn into trash—especially since they’re already starting to emit an alarming stench.
First, I’ll eat something. Today, I managed to acquire a large amount of meat, after all.
After skinning it and removing the parts crushed beyond usability or showing strange discolorations, there was still a satisfying amount left.
But the taste is unbearable. Mother Nature doesn’t tolerate complaints about side dishes.
I channeled a bit of magic through the tip of my horn to find something flint-like, scratching it with my nails to spark a small flame.
Once I tore the meat into bite-sized pieces and threw them into the fire to cook, I chewed—
Crunch.
There’s always something like this. Another item to sell to the folks in the Lower District. I tossed a purple stone at the pile of entrails and continued tearing at the meat.
The taste was predictably terrible. Licking the nearby black salt did nothing to mask the harsh metallic tang and indescribably foul smell.
Neither did gnawing on iron ore to cleanse the palate—it felt as if my tongue wanted to scrape itself clean, mocking the idea that such trivial efforts could kill me.
I thought I had a good haul, but this wasn’t just about being picky—it was genuinely inedible. Suppressing the urge to vomit was all I could manage.
I’ll head down to the village.
I’ll convert all this garbage into money in the village and buy some delicious food. With a final toss, I hurled the revolting meat far out of the cave.
Today, I craved something soft and sweet.
I raised a smooth stone from the ground until its surface gleamed, checking its appearance for any flaws.
Satisfied that the only issue was some bloodstains on the bandages, I smashed the stone with my tail, obliterating it completely. The sight of the rounded horns and slit pupils beyond it unsettled me.
Fidgeting with the necklace left behind by Mother, I slung a large sack carelessly over my shoulder. Despite its size, I wondered if it would hold everything as I stuffed the innards inside one by one.
Today marks exactly 20 years since I fell into this bizarre world.
My first memory as this body was waking up to discover I was a girl with horns and a tail, screaming in terror. That must have been around… age 10?
Just as I was getting accustomed to this form, a man claiming to be my father arrived and killed Mother. I still vividly recall how Mother lied to him, saying she’d already used me as an ingredient when he yelled demanding my location.
Upon hearing that, the so-called father simply said, “Good.”
That happened when I was 13. Somehow, Mother had cast a spell on me, keeping me hidden, while Father destroyed everything she owned without a trace.
The cottage, books, cauldron—everything was gone.
Because of that bastard, I live like this now. If he hadn’t come, perhaps I could’ve lived happily with Mother.
Would I have learned fluent speech? Would I have grown up more normally as a girl…? Though what’s inside me is male, that would’ve been difficult too. Anyway, if he hadn’t shown up, things might have been better.
“If” is one of the most useless words there is. Shaking off such unimportant thoughts, I moved on.
Perhaps inherited from him, I possess the ability to manipulate earth and a strong physique. Thanks to that, I’ve survived this long.
It wasn’t ideal, but surviving requires using whatever you have. At least it helped more than Mother’s language lessons.
Most of what I know comes from self-discovery through trial and error, but even that has proven sufficient for survival.
“…Dzya.”
The bag was filled to the brim, barely containing all the trade goods.
Shading my eyes against the bright sunlight, I stepped out of the cave.
I probed the area with vibrations through my feet, detecting no serious threats—just wolves, not much of a danger.
Of course, anything living on this mountain fears me. Anything bold enough to attack, aside from humans, has already become meat.
Walking leisurely until I found a suitable slope, I prepared to slide down.
Closing my eyes, I focused mana at the tips of my horns, imagining the chunk of earth beneath me grabbing hold and propelling me down the incline.
At the sound of grinding rocks, I planted my feet firmly into the earth just before it gave way.
All that remained was to maintain my stance.
Amidst the roar of falling rocks, snapping trees, and vibrating collisions, I descended swiftly toward the base of the mountain.
Using my abilities to reinforce the rock beneath me, preventing it from crumbling, I eventually reached the bottom after a brief period of instability.
Checking behind me, I confirmed no further landslides were imminent. The first time I tried this, I broke a sweat trying to stop a full-scale avalanche, so now it’s routine.
If something starts sliding, it’s easier to stop it early.
As I resumed walking, guards ahead stared blankly at me.
“Dragon! Humber! Quickly, warn the village! I’ll hold it off!”
Due to family issues, I’m not great with language. Even now, I can only grasp fragments, but I think I understood the gist.
“I’ll handle this, Humber. Go warn the village.” Something like that.
Their noble sense of duty was touching, but that wasn’t why I came down here. Letting the fleeing guard go, I turned my attention to the one standing firm with spear drawn.
I levitated a pebble near my feet and threw it hard enough to knock him unconscious.
“Ugh…”
His helmet dented slightly as he fell backward. To prevent wild animals from eating him, I gently lifted some earth and placed him on a branch.
He’ll wake up soon, judging by his pulse, and should return to the village before nightfall.
With the sack re-shouldered, I followed the guard’s trail. Moving too fast would catch them unprepared, so I walked slowly.
Giving them ample time to prepare. It wouldn’t change much whether they did or not, but at least they’d feel more secure having set up some semblance of defense.
That way, we can trade. Rushing in would cause panic, leading to attacks and chaos, ruining any chance of trading.
Approaching the town calmly, like prey waiting for the trap to spring, I caught sight of the walls in the distance.
What passes for a town is practically a city. Until a few years ago, it was just a stone wall, but now it boasts proper fortifications, including moats.
Getting closer, I saw polished bald heads leading groups of guards.
Not to mention archers atop the walls. The bald leader shouted something incomprehensible beyond three words, which I politely ignored as I approached.
They clearly knew they couldn’t stop me alone, refraining from charging or throwing anything.
Instead, they opened a section and slowly pushed forward in a loose encirclement. Their expressions were resolute, despite knowing they couldn’t truly harm me.
I could knock them all down with a flick of my hand, but losing my only trading partner would be foolish.
Walking obediently according to their intentions, I spotted a building larger than before.
The Adventurers’ Guild.
The only place that accepts me and puts a price on my head. I entered calmly.
