Henderson Scale 0.1
A minor detour that doesn’t affect the story.
Subtitle: The Secret Desires of the Hunter.
A large prey is sleeping soundly, snoring happily and exuding a refreshing soap scent as it lies on the bed.
Seeing her partner dozing off mid-afternoon, the hunter couldn’t help but smile wryly, thinking it was only natural to be so relaxed on such a pleasant afternoon.
At the private two-person room in the Cat’s Rest Inn — though lately, they’ve only been using one bed — the western sunlight filters in comfortably during the afternoon. Not too direct, it strikes at just the right angle to provide warmth regardless of the season.
What a luxurious life, taking leisurely naps before the sun even begins to set. Truly, it’s a delightful way to spend one’s days.
After waking early to help around the inn, then heading to the courtyard of Silver Snow Wolf Winery to sharpen her sword-like fangs, she enjoys some sake until satisfied before retiring to the bath to let the steam wash away her grime.
Returning to the inn with the refreshing post-bath sensation, she sinks into a mid-afternoon nap amidst the freshly laundered sheets.
What greater happiness could there be? This self-indulgent bliss of their humanity-like form, embodying an incredibly powerful beast, lies asleep.
Whether out of distaste for being bound or to lull others into a false sense of security, this beast had chosen oversized clothing. However, the hunter knew the true reason: it was merely a subtle hope that her height wouldn’t grow too much more.
Her hair, which had grown so long it rivaled golden silk — now released and sprawled around her — looked as if she were reclining atop a mountain of countless gold coins. Her posture, akin to that of a dragon hoarding its treasure in a cavern, truly befit a magnificent prey.
As one poet once wrote: in both love and war, the more splendid the head you claim, the better your trophy.
In this case, Ehrich of Königsstuhl, renowned for his golden locks, surely possessed a head of great value.
In battle, taking his head would claim all his accumulated achievements.
In love, claiming him would elevate one’s reputation as a beautiful woman.
Thus, many sought after this prize, both in war and in love.
The hunter had never worried about the former.
Since her youth, when she was instructed by the sturdy head of the vigilante group, there had never been a day when golden hair bowed to another in a straightforward sword fight.
Whenever that audacious, wolfish grin appeared, accompanied by the golden hair stepping forth, every foe met their demise with cries, their swords flying through the air. Sometimes, they left behind gruesome spectacles of blood and severed limbs decorating the sky, their vividness striking fear into the hearts of their enemies and sapping their will to fight.
There were even those who, upon hearing the fame of the “Sending Wolf” through its poetry, discarded their weapons and begged for mercy.
No matter how formidable the opponent standing before her now, the golden hair would not falter.
The hunter alone knew of the ultimate trick hidden away, though it had never been unveiled. Should it ever be unleashed, it would bring about a literal tempest of swords, dispersing any obstacle to dust.
Such underhanded tactics were unnecessary; shadowy figures hidden within this hand had already handled them all.
The hunter, despite not wielding magic, took pride in her skills as a scout blazing paths through the unknown and a bow-wielding support for her partner’s back. Her ability to anticipate and eliminate gaps based on breathing patterns, eye movements, and footwork wasn’t just presumptuous boasting but proven through results.
No one underestimated the hunter anymore. When she first began as an adventurer, amidst the gossip about being Ehrich’s mistress or having connections, who could stand by those claims now?
The hunter was pleased with golden hair as a target in battle. Protecting his back and shadow, this position hadn’t been threatened for quite some time.
However, how about the battle of love?
Not that there was dissatisfaction with the current state. In fact, to say otherwise would only result in being pelted with daggers rather than stones by countless envious maidens.
Golden hair had kept a youthful and arguably naive promise to protect her.
The sister who attended the Magic Academy, a place requiring exorbitant tuition far beyond the means of common folk without sponsorship from the nobility or magistrates. Through sheer determination, golden hair had earned enough to cover her tuition and returned as they had agreed.
He knelt to request her presence on many adventures, sincerely offering her a place by his side.
All those sweet memories are deeply stored within her mind. The night they exchanged their purity remains vivid in the recesses of her eyelids.
Many women must envy their relationship. Even the female poets strumming love songs in the plaza occasionally blend in with women listeners who sigh appreciatively.
Still, golden hair, while generous to lovers of adventure, treated women who approached him romantically too harshly.
Whether drawn by his fame and wealth, many women came close. But even those purely captivated by his charm were met with a brusque demeanor.
Though he wasn’t outright dismissive, he lacked charm. A faint smile, polite conversations without substance, and when women tried to get physically closer, his sword-polished movements would gracefully dodge. He declined their hands in friendship, stating with elaborate courtesy that his calloused, blood-stained hands didn’t deserve the grace of a gentlewoman’s delicate skin.
The hunter thought maybe he ought to be a little more casual.
During a past drinking session with the manor maids — at least subjectively lively — the hunter’s words held no falsehood.
The hunter didn’t particularly value chastity, especially not that of men.
Honestly, since she only had interest in golden hair, it mattered little. It wasn’t like she cared back when they’d been in a chaste relationship; now that they were intimate, it mattered even less.
Frankly speaking, she couldn’t deny being entirely infatuated.
Golden hair’s martial prowess was as described earlier, but his skills in the nocturnal arts were nothing less than exceptional. His touch was sweet, his whispers intoxicating, their endless union nearly drove her into oblivion.
Treated like a princess, she melted under his expertise, his impressive weapon exploring every erogenous zone. Their continuous encounters, what could they even be compared to? Even arachnids who typically dominated in similar affairs struggled to maintain their dignity while competing with golden hair.
The hunter could only frown when asked if she’d ever claimed victory.
This man had a perfectionist streak. Once he started, there was no end in sight. And if he found something he liked, it knew no boundary. He meticulously recorded every detail, from the tremors of her body to the sweetness of her voice.
It was at times frightening. One occasion, he brought her to her peak without even touching her secret place, and the brief encounter left her muttering “this body cannot take much more.”
Though shameful, it couldn’t be denied.
At this point, any other man would simply appear as wood or poorly sculpted clay in comparison. In fact, she’d once suspected golden hair wasn’t even human but some sort of incubus from the spirit-kind.
Yet golden hair remained unswervingly loyal to her. The hunter took joy in being loved, but also felt a lack.
The glory of a hunter isn’t realized until they’ve captured formidable prey coveted by many competitors.
Hence, wouldn’t it be nice for him to play a little? Some gossips suggested childish or even hidden homosexual inclinations, but wouldn’t a little restraint be beneficial?
Concerns arose. Was she incapable of keeping a man? Or worse, the fear he might someday turn away.
But how many women could truly keep a man perfectly?
While it was true her mother was exemplary at retaining her husband, the way she “squeezed” him seemed excessive.
Despite her apparent good health, the father, two or three decades older, seemed worn out, which the daughter couldn’t help but empathize with.
Still, her father appeared to bask contently in her mother’s overbearing love, making it hard to intervene. The hunter didn’t want the same for herself.
Isn’t it a hunter’s nature to hunt and scatter many prey, including fearsome wolves?
Petting a tamed dog in a cage wasn’t her style. Rather, this golden beast, snoring softly beside her, was no creature to be restrained by a collar. If she placed a leash and felt smug, the next moment she’d surely be dragged around and bruised.
Although currently sleeping like a beloved pet, this wasn’t a creature who’d let such happen easily. The moment the leash tightened, chaos would ensue.
Though this relaxation was possible because of her trusted partner’s presence, the hunter felt no ill will seeing her sleep so innocently.
She wouldn’t go so far as to suggest being reckless with courtesans, but it wouldn’t hurt to act more like a beast.
The hunter smiled faintly again and poked the golden hair’s nose, exposed from the serene sleeping face no one else got to see.
“Unh…”
This man would never show such a face to another woman, let alone expose his guard during sleep. In their missions, or when sleeping alone, he embraced his beloved sword and stayed vigilant. His vulnerability in this bed, therefore, was a sign of trust.
So it didn’t matter if he sought adventures elsewhere.
As long as he returned to this place, to a peaceful slumber here, his prestigious head belonged to her. The final moment, whether the spider consumed the wolf within or was consumed by the wolf, was a matter for the future.
As long as she prevailed in the end, the hunter firmly believed that. Before that moment, she hoped he would cause a great commotion. Being beside such a magnificent monster could only elevate a hunter’s worth.
Perhaps working together would lead them to their perfect fit. With such thoughts, the hunter gently readjusted the blanket that had slipped due to his sleep movements.
Then, stretching slightly, she slipped beside the golden hair, as sleepiness from overthinking began to settle in.
A pleasant soap scent lingered in the air, from a superior fragrance chosen after pondering for nearly an hour during a customer meeting.
The thought of another woman enjoying this scent made her a little envious, though knowing he came prepared for her nights together brought a sense of superiority.
While her mother could be bothersome, she admitted to being bothersome in her own way. With these thoughts, she rested her head on golden hair’s arm, closing her eyes.
Ah, if only he grew stronger and bigger.
With such musings, the hunter drifted off into sleep alongside him…
