Chapter 3

Chapter 003

What distinguishes the predator from the prey?

There might be distinctions based on the evolution of species, and it could also be divided in an academic sense, but most of these are close to the right answer, yet not quite correct.

It's just known.

Without any reason, the predator knows the moment it sees the prey that it can eat it, and the prey, upon seeing the predator, instantly realizes it will be eaten.

An instinct ingrained in the genes.

At the very least, Carson had thought so, and until now, he had maintained his position as a predator and thrived.

“Aaah! Ah!”

Thus, he knew.

“Why are you doing this?”

The thing standing before him, wearing the guise of Aren, the frail heir of the Grind noble family, was an absolute predator that Carson had never encountered in his life.

“Die!”

Terrified, Carson took a step back, and at that moment, all the knights remaining in the hall drew their swords and rushed at Aren.

A deadly attack that covered all directions, including up and down.

Normally, in a coordinated attack, a certain distance is set to avoid injuring allies, but the knights seemed to disregard such things and lunged at Aren with all their might.

Ignorance breeds fear, and fear is contagious.

The knights, who were in a state of panic due to the unbelievable situation they saw and the atmosphere Aren exuded, rushed forward without hesitation to eliminate the cause.

Eight swords seemed about to turn Aren into a porcupine, and Vexster and the nanny Verona, watching the scene, screamed with wide eyes.

“Master!”

At the moment of life and death.

Aren was seen taking a step back.

Miraculously, Aren disappeared from the knights' sight, and they hurriedly tried to retract their swords but could not overcome the inertia.

Kagagagak!

“Ugh!”

“Gah!”

The cost of the attack without a rear was not small.

They barely avoided stabbing each other, but the uncontrolled swords cut into each other's bodies, leaving large and small wounds on the knights.

In such a situation, Carson saw Aren take another step forward.

Thud.

A light hand movement, like a child expressing "I'm here."

That light hand touched the back of a knight who was showing his back to Aren, and at that moment, a terrible sound echoed again.

Kwajijijijik!

“Aaaaah!”

“Keeeh!”

Rotation.

The force that began tearing the knight's flesh started to expand, eventually spreading to the entangled knights.

Pshshshsh!

The blood that had been scattered in all directions gathered into a single point as the rotation intensified.

Kung!

“Uuuuuugh!”

A loyal old servant vomited.

The squire and the maid were trembling in Verona's arms, and Vexster was convulsing with a blood-covered face.

“H-Hiiik!”

Carson, wetting his pants and letting out a shrill scream as he backed away, looked nothing like a knight who should be brave on the battlefield, but Vexster did not feel like insulting Carson.

Meat lump.

Seeing the round mass of flesh left where eight proud knights had stood just moments ago, anyone would have reacted the same way as Carson.

“Was your name Carson?”

Aren, who had created the hellish scene filled with the sounds of vomiting, the smell of blood, and the stench of urine, looked at Carson.

With a calm expression and atmosphere that seemed unrelated to the current situation, Aren took a light step forward, and Carson fell to the ground.

Tap tap.

The light sound of a child's footsteps.

But no one in the hall could hear those footsteps without shuddering.

Aren, who had stopped in front of the crouching Carson, looked at him with his usual expressionless eyes and slowly raised his hand.

“It would have been better to resolve it through conversation.”

“M-Master! I was wrong! I was wrong, please!”

The small, cute hand of a child, but to Carson, who had witnessed the atrocity it had created, it was the most terrifying thing in the world.

“I-I will disappear! I, I will never return to the Grind family!”

Kwajik!

Aren's hand pierced Carson's forehead as he desperately tried to speak, and Carson's body excreted waste from every orifice.

Kung.

Aren, who had been looking at Carson's fallen corpse, turned around.

A deathly silence fell.

The enemy that had threatened the group was gone, but in its place was a new, unprecedented fear.

Even Vexster, who boasted of considerable experience after many battles, was terrified, let alone the ordinary people in the group.

‘Hmm.’

It was a familiar gaze, but it did not feel good.

Anyone would feel the same, and as Aren, whose eyes twitched, was about to turn and take a step with a light sigh,

“Master, please wipe your hands.”

Verona, who had let go of the squire and the maid, approached Aren.

Her movements were stiff, still pale and shaken, but

“Thank you for your hard work.”

With a deep breath, she bowed before Aren and carefully wiped his hands with a handkerchief.

“Yuna, Send, pack up.”

“Yes, yes! Head Maid!”

The squire and the maid, who had been staring blankly at Verona, jumped up and got to their feet.

“Lauren, check on Sir Vexster. I heard you have a potion.”

“Yes, Head Maid.”

Lauren, who had wiped the filth from his mouth, hurriedly began searching Carson's corpse.

‘Hmm.’

Aren was impressed by the composed demeanor.

Verona had already composed her terrified expression and the trembling in her hands had stopped, proving she was not an ordinary woman.

“Guh!”

On one side, Vexster, who was emitting white smoke and in agony, was being supported by Lauren, and the squire and the maid, having composed themselves, were busily moving around.

“We need to move.”

Seeing Vexster, who had risen from his seat with a pale face, and the group, Aren's eyes lit up.

Their eyes and expressions were still filled with fear, but at least they were looking at Aren directly, and a faint smile appeared on his lips.

‘Loyal.’

Satisfied that these servants were worth saving, Aren nodded.

“Lead the way.”

“Yes.”

Following Vexster, who was leading the way with a determined expression, Aren took a step forward.

* * *

“We will camp here.”

Aren, who had been sitting in the carriage with his eyes closed, nodded in agreement, and Vexster bowed and stepped out of the carriage.

Hearing his voice, Yuna and Send began to tidy up the surroundings like busy squirrels, and Lauren untethered the horses from the carriage to let them rest, quickly preparing for the camp.

“The moon is bright.”

Vexster's gaze shifted from the moon in the sky to the carriage.

The carriage door was firmly closed.

A simple carriage that symbolized the austere family style of the Grind family, but to Vexster, it was the most terrifying thing in the world.

No.

Not the carriage, but the person inside.

Certainly, the carriage was no longer ordinary because the monster, who had been a frail and well-behaved child until this morning, was inside.

“...I knew the head maid was composed, but this is beyond imagination.”

Vexster muttered as he surveyed the surroundings.

Just thinking about what would have happened if Verona had not taken charge after the slaughter at the relay station sent shivers down his spine.

The servants, who were busily preparing the camp, would have similar thoughts.

Their seamless cooperation in preparing the camp was impressive, but he knew it was a desperate act to avoid recalling the horrific memory.

“Are you feeling well?”

“I'm fine.”

Seeing Verona, who had approached from the carriage, Vexster bowed with heartfelt gratitude.

‘He is from the north, as I heard.’

The northern region of the Kailum Empire was known for its harsh environment and the constant emergence of monsters.

Naturally, the people living there had a different temperament from those in other regions of the empire, being less prone to excitement and remarkably composed.

Seeing Verona, Dexter thought the description was not wrong.

Thanks to their busy movements,

A stew was already boiling over the campfire, and the preparations for the late dinner were complete.

Normally, it would be a time to relax after a hard day and enjoy a meal, but the group's tension only increased.

When Verona stood in front of the carriage, the tension reached its peak.

Even the composed Verona had a stiff expression, but after a deep breath, she spoke politely.

“Master, dinner is ready.”

“I will come out.”

A low voice came from inside the carriage, and at the same time, Lauren quickly moved to open the carriage door.

Behind the bowed Lauren, Yuna and Send were also bowed and trembling, and Vexster, gripping the hilt of his sword, hid his trembling hands.

Tap.

With a light step, Aren emerged from the carriage.

Under the soft moonlight, his platinum hair and beautiful features were like those of a fairy in a storybook, but no one was admiring his beauty.

“Please sit here.”

Verona guided Aren to a prepared spot and served the food.

An uncomfortable meal began.

* * *

“Was the meal to your liking?”

Seeing Aren nod lightly in response to Verona's question, Yuna and Send let out a sigh of relief and began to clear the table.

Lauren, who had quietly risen, was tending to the horses, and just as Vexster was about to get up,

“Vexster.”

“...Yes, Master.”

Although his heart sank, Vexster, bracing himself, bowed and answered politely.

“Who were they?”

It was a disjointed question without a subject, but Vexster was not so foolish.

“The 2nd Knight Regiment of the main house.”

“2nd Knight Regiment?”

Aren's puzzled expression was so cute that it made one want to pinch his cheeks, but to Vexster, it looked like a monster opening its mouth.

“Why were they chasing me?”

It was a question that the original Aren would not need to ask, but no one in the group pointed that out.

“They seem to have been sent by the Countess.”

Aren, who had been tilting his head, turned his gaze to Verona.

“Who am I?”

Despite the beautiful, expressionless face and the deep, dark eyes that made his heart race, Verona maintained her posture and spoke politely.

“The heir of the Grind family, Aren de Grind.”

And at that moment,

Aren felt his spiritual awareness opening.

Memories began to rise in his mind.

The memories of the not-so-short life of the original Aren began to flood his mind.

A headache so intense it felt like his head was splitting, but Aren did not change his expression and silently accepted the memories.

“...Possession or reincarnation. Perhaps it's a dream of a butterfly.”

After a brief silence, Aren spoke and turned to the carriage.

Looking up at the sky, he smiled.

“It doesn't matter.”

Looking at the unfamiliar night sky, Aren made up his mind.