Henderson Scale 1.0 – An irrecoverable derailment that makes reaching the ending impossible.
This is a continuation from
https://ncode.syosetu.com/n4811fg/17/
After becoming accustomed to waking up with a gentle sensation, how much time had passed?
regaining consciousness felt like slowly surfacing from the depths of water. There was a soft sensation on my lips, and the sweet scent tickling my nostrils.
A kiss as delicate as a touch. The luxury of awakening with a kiss filled with tenderness.
Still, today, I felt like indulging in even more luxury, so I pretended to still be asleep with my eyes closed.
Even so, she knows me well after being together for so long. Acting this much wouldn’t escape her notice, and surely she’d realize I was awake. After all, we’re a warrior people who wake up even when a distant twig snaps. If I didn’t wake up after such attentions, it would only mean I was either in bad shape or dead.
“Fine then, there’s nothing to be done.”
A voice as adorable as rolling bells. Contrary to her words, she sounded delighted as she pressed her lips to mine once more.
However, this time, it didn’t end just like that.
A small tongue gently explored my lips, giving moisture to the dry spots. Finding the slightly parted opening, it slowly slithered in between my teeth and lips.
It felt like my front teeth were being knocked upon softly, and then my lips were sucked on. Unavoidably drawn by the pleasurable tickling, I opened my mouth slightly, and with that moment’s weakness, her tongue invaded my mouth.
The pink intruder possessed an intoxicating flexibility as it boldly captured the one hiding timidly far back in my mouth. It was thoroughly licked, entangled, and pulled out to be trampled under her dominance.
With a noisy sucking sound, she nibbled gently, creating a dance reminiscent of mating mollusks.
My jaw was trickled down by saliva, and when that warm, loving heat reached my neck, my tongue was finally liberated from her spell.
I opened my eyes to see her round face beaming with a broad smile, her amber eyes playfully distorted, and her lips, unadorned yet unnecessarily red, gleaming with the lustrousness of a harsh awakening. Her cheeks, flushed with excitement, resembled a peach at its peak ripeness.
“Good morning. How was your awakening?”
“Ah, good morning. I feel splendid.”
My beloved wife, Margit, was as ever full of her bubbly cuteness.
“Then, wake up, my dear husband. Before the children, who aren’t used to sleeping alone, start crying and come to us.”
My wife who was straddling me, as if naturally lying on my supine body, was, as usual, naked. She gracefully combed her carefully maintained hair, which I actually did the upkeep of, with her fingers, bringing it to the front of her body and lightly tying it on the side. Doing so revealed the elegant back that could make fresh snow seem dull in comparison.
A single black butterfly danced over this snowy expanse. Its lace-like wings spread over her lower back resembled a black swallowtail butterfly.
What kind of seductive insect comes to mind? When asked that not long after our marriage, my somewhat absurd answer brought about this design adorning her back a few days later, which was quite a surprise. Now, after having gotten used to it, it only brings to mind its beauty, but initially, the stark contrast would often make my head spin.
“No, it’s no good to stare so much today? Today’s a very special day.”
Did she sense my gaze? She turned her head and reproached me thus. In that case, please do stop intentionally tilting your upper body to catch my attention, or I might be tempted to do something improper.
“No, I just thought it’d be nice to see your old hairstyle every once in a while.”
Though I got up while masking my rather lewd thoughts, as it wouldn’t do to appear too disgraceful. I wiped away the saliva with the back of my hand, discarded my old nightwear, and reached for the clothes folded neatly by the bedside from the previous day.
It was an outfit designed to conform to the body, meticulously sewn with detailed craftsmanship, in a deep navy blue.
The garb of a hunter made from the silk of house spiders, who being of the fly-catching spider kind and unable to produce as much silk as the female spider species, can prepare only a handful of sets in a lifetime. The design that follows the body’s lines reduces the noise of clothing friction to the extreme, and the navy hue cleverly blends with the darkness of night, serving well as camouflage amidst trees.
A masterpiece crafted with these considerations, it was a precious gift from Margit at our marriage, as esteemed as armor, one of my cherished battle outfits.
As I squeezed myself into the flexible and comfortable garment, the pitter-patter of small steps approached from the entrance.
A few seconds later, the door opened hesitantly. From the gap created by the opening of only a few inches, poked the face of what can only be described as the world’s cutest girl.
Her exquisite blond hair glimmered beautifully, reflecting the morning sunlight. Her clear, complex irises with a deepening hue towards the pupils radiated a remarkable gaze. Her face was strikingly similar to that of my beloved wife, save for the eyes and hair which closely resembled mine. She hesitated at the entryway, fumbling with the door.
“Father… Mother…”
Today, marking her seventh birthday, my dearest daughter Izolde had come to wake us. Though she was hidden behind the door, she must surely be holding the mechanical crossbow and large hunting knife I placed by her pillow as a birthday gift.
“Good morning, Izolde. Happy seventh birthday.”
“What a splendid morning it is, Izolde. It’s a perfect day for hunting.”
Today being her birthday, she will also receive her first lessons in hunting. Let’s do our best to make it a wonderful birthday, shall we?
Hunting constitutes the majority of search and wait time.
Explore the forest in search of the prey’s traces, predict its position, lie in wait, and sometimes harass it to drive in. Then resolve it with the release of the bowstring or the gentle squeeze of the crossbow’s trigger.
Hunting is an extremely patient task, relying on perseverance and tenacity.
In this regard, my daughter seems to have exceptional talent.
Crouched motionlessly on a tree branch, wielding the crossbow crafted exclusively for her practice, her stance is masterfully still. It’s as though she were a perfectly reproduced statue, not moving a muscle, with breaths so quiet and steady that even from the adjacent branch, I can’t hear them.
The insect species of humans possess a different skeleton structure. They can endure long periods of waiting without complaint and can reach their top speed without warm-up. Furthermore, the characteristic spider legs stabilize the body on unstable terrain as though they were fused together.
Most admirably, she possesses the mental fortitude to persistently wait for hours, even days, at one spot for prey. Human species, unless exceptionally predisposed, would find it incredibly difficult to do what she does naturally.
She doesn’t let her mind wander due to boredom or awkwardly yawn out of tension.
Truly a natural hunter. How many species can compete and prevail on the same ground?
In this way, waiting quietly for our prey, the sun must have shifted its position for three hours now. A child of her age would have gotten bored long ago and started complaining. Yet, Izolde has continued to wait without uttering a single complaint.
From the traces we detected while walking through the forest, it seemed the presence of a deer delighted her immensely.
Nonetheless, waiting here up in a tree evokes a sense of nostalgia. Margit and I often adventured together to prepare for missions.
Indeed, on that day, it was also a deer we waited for.
Deer are the most common game for hunters authorized by the magistrate.
Of course, their meat is eaten, and their hides are stripped, but they are also the greatest adversaries of forestry and agriculture.
Not only do they ravage crops, but they also devastate young trees planted for forestry, which are crucial to the nation, and they even eat and kill the barks of mature trees. A lack of building materials could hinder the development of towns and make heating wood scarce, presenting a true life-and-death issue.
Hence, we, the hunters sanctioned by the domain magistrate living in this manor, are tasked with maintaining the control of a certain population. As a form of tribute, we must present a pair of antlers for male deer and a pair of front hooves for female deer.
That is why we primarily target and hunt deer.
Although they might not be as dangerous as the fearsome charging boars or as strategic as wolves attacking in packs or as ruthlessly violent as bears,
the speed of their elegantly developed legs is phenomenal, their vigilance as prey is sharp, and they can easily detect the presence of the larger human species.
Even in my previous life, despite the advanced hunting tools being incomparably more sophisticated, deer were not easy to catch. It becomes even more challenging while adopting more primitive and laborious methods.
Even though we’ve found the game trail and lay in ambush, a slight anomaly can shift the path they tread. No matter how excellent the archery skills may be, without having the prey within range, all efforts are pointless; thus it’s quite a challenging opponent.
Ah, but that’s fine. It also serves as a learning process in teaching the young novice hunter the essence of hunting. Such moments of acceptance, similar to resignation, are essential learning.
However, it seems that my daughter was blessed with good fortune.
The prey emerged quietly as if to reward the long period of waiting.
It’s a young stag. The body might not be fully grown yet, so it’s relatively small, but the antlers are impressive. It should be alright to hunt it. Over-hunting younger deer could reduce the meat supply to the domain.
The air was tense. Izolde, who was previously silent, took a single audible breath.
It’s still too far. I gently touched her shoulder in admonishment.
At a distance of a hundred and fifty steps, it’s just entering the sight, not yet within effective range. A minimum of seventy steps, ideally fifty, would be preferable.
Though the crossbow bolts can penetrate armor, their power diminishes due to air resistance. Furthermore, the vitality of animals exceeds human expectations; if not hit in a fatal spot, they can flee for kilometers while bleeding profusely.
If that occurs, it would be a miserable situation for both me and the prey. The plight of a hunted hunter is distressing, and the suffering of the fleeing prey without hope is beyond comprehension.
One might question why the one inflicting death would care. But we must hunt to survive. At least, can’t we aim for the prey to endure the least possible pain?
It might be called hypocrisy, but wouldn’t it always be preferable to be good rather than not?
Seeing the distance close, I gently let go. You should hit it now with your skill.
As if understanding my intent, nearly simultaneously with my hand release, the crossbow mechanism discharges the bowstring, and the air is cut with a sound.
The bolt shoots through the air instantly, piercing the stag’s chest. A slight spray of blood dances as it emits a cry and takes a few steps… before collapsing, depleted of strength.
A vital part pierced. Judging by the position, it must have hit the heart. Normally, to maintain the meat’s taste it would be better to crush its skull for an instant death, but it’s quite an accomplishment for her first hunt.
“Yay…!”
I stroke the little voice of triumph from Izolde. In the corner of my eye, Margit, who was stationed on another tree as backup against a possible miss or a partial kill, leaps down.
She holds a rope, intending to bring it quickly to the river to chill.
“Hey, Dad! Dad! I did it!”
“Yes, magnificent, Izolde, my dear. That was a splendid shot.”
I catch my daughter who jumps at me fearlessly, just like on the ground, recalling that day’s vision.
Very nostalgic indeed. The prey we waited for that time was a deer, but instead, a pack of wolves arrived.
A group consisting of adult wolves and a few pups, were they driven somewhere? They looked terribly emaciated and consequently, ferociously aggressive.
Under normal circumstances, we’d avoid them and go hunt with all the male laborers and self-defense groups of the estate.
But that time was truly ill-timed. The children of the estate were playing nearby in that forest, just like we used to, pretending to be foxes and geese. Unaware of the impending danger.
Retreating wasn’t an option. Rather, retreating didn’t even cross our minds.
It was sheer luck that both of us survived intact. Fighting a pack of seven grown wolves was beyond reckless—it was like dancing with one foot already in the grave.
Moreover, these wolf packs are more united than regular wolves. If a single wolf is killed, instead of running away, the remaining ones attack furiously for revenge, never relenting until the last one falls. Faced with such a battle where either we die or entirely exterminate them, humans, who are physically weaker compared to beasts, would be in a terribly disadvantage.
We fought fiercely, ended up battered and bruised but still, we survived.
And… and.. ah well, the excitement of surviving and some primal instincts kicked in, and then we bonded. Yeah, that kind of moment..
Truly, at that point, the adrenaline was burning… No, nope, why am I thinking about that while congratulating my daughter? I need to maintain myself.
“Alright, Izolde, hunting doesn’t end with just the shot. You’ve got to learn butchering too.”
Straightening my expression and stepping down to the ground; I still have much to teach her as a hunter. If the butchering isn’t done right, the meat can lose its flavor.
While I understood that my wife must be recalling the same day, judging from her knowing smirk,
I maintained an innocent facade, seized the rope from her hand, and secured it on the deer’s legs…
【Tips】Spider Hunter’s Garb: A special outfit made by carefully collecting and weaving the silk they produce throughout their lifetime. Due to the significant effort, one can only make around three sets in a lifetime, making it a gift reserved for special individuals, and sometimes even ancestral garments are repaired and donned.
Flexible and comfortable, it minimizes noise, and its durability makes it robust against common blades while providing ample protection for its wearer.
【Tips】Wolf Packs: A species commonly found across the central continent that displays intelligence between beasts and magical beasts. They are canines of considerable size with an average length of 1.5 meters and weight of about 90kg, with females usually slightly larger than males.
Possessing high intelligence, they prioritize unity within their pack, and unlike other beasts, they tend to seek “revenge” rather than flee when one of their members is killed, making them extremely perilous.
A very splendid fan art was submitted, so I am updating spontaneously.
Since it’s just a kiss, it might not meet the criteria for a “Nocturne.”
For those interested in the fan art, please check out our Twitter.
Given I’ve re-tweeted it several times and with the title, it should easily come up in the latest posts.
Furthermore, the original poster’s Pixiv account contains details too. I highly recommend checking it out.
It would be greatly appreciated if more people took this as an opportunity to contribute, and it would make me incredibly happy.
