I Became the Wrong Race

2 – Fall (2)

In a forest draped in dense fog, step by step, boots treaded upon the white snow, tirelessly marching forward.

Ordinary people would struggle even to take a single step.The fog was so thick as to be repelling.

With every stride she took, her eyes brimmed with snow, her feet burying themselves amidst the snowflakes fluttering about.

Unable to even see an inch ahead, it was the type of weather where an average person would likely get lost and end up as an unfortunate casualty.

Her silhouette was like that of one who had ventured into the mountains immediately following an avalanche. Yet the woman moved forward with unwavering resolution.

Her strides were rapid, cutting through the flurry. Her teal-colored pupils tirelessly searched the path she knew amidst the dense, white hue.

Even the curtain-like heavy snow flurry seemed unable to hinder her advance.

Holding a slingshot in her hand as if she were ready to face any foe, the woman ventured forth into unknown territories beyond the harsh winter.

The intensifying snow flurry began to lighting up only some time after the woman had advanced. Loosening the tail she had been holding in her mouth, the woman lowered her gaze contemplatively.

At the spot where her snow-white boots had stopped, there was a hole.

Within the hole, there was an amount of meat.

It was something that could only be referred to in such a manner.

Among the fallen trees that densely filled the surroundings, the woman thought that the deep pit in the snow looked like a nest and that the thing within it was an egg.

And if the pit was a nest, then what was inside was an egg.

She stared at the egg.

The egg that was slowly squirming, solidifying into the form of a man.

Finally, as the man broke loose from the egg, the woman’s tail swept the layer of snow.

*

The reality of prison escape wasn’t as high as you’d expect.

Regardless, it was the best I could do, and thus, I wasn’t particularly regretful or dissatisfied with the outcome.

This was the best I could do with my abilities. If I hadn’t acted, I would’ve been no different from livestock, destined only for slaughter.

I was not the kind of male who was confused between when to advance and when to retreat. One year seemed to be the right duration for a standstill from my perspective.

Even if my plan wasn’t perfect, I was not hesitant.

Although nothing is perfect in whatever you do.

If I had visited this place even once in the game, and if the event of a prison escape is an experience available even once, I wouldn’t know.

To me, who was neither of the above, the concept of prison escape was nothing but a foreign idea.

Where would a peaceful, normal student like me have the chance of a prison escape?

Even the Labirinthini, who were the livestock of the villain in the setting, were beings that had already escaped prison, liable only for execution if captured again.

None among those who attacked us periodically sought to capture my character or make him surrender.

And so, I had never been captured or had a chance at a prison break, had no prior experience of any related event in the game, and didn’t even know the structure of the prison.

I had no idea how the villainous crew who captured me liked to treat their livestock. To make it worse, I didn’t even know exactly where I was.

I had to learn everything through trial and error. But one couldn’t afford to gamble with life.

Even if I wasn’t a male, life was still too precious. That’s why I spent a year in the prison.

Even if I lacked information, I had to gather the basic research and information.

So, I devoted my time to research.

[Dexterity: 20(+5)]

Dexterity meant the nimbleness of the mind, senses and talent. I adjusted to the supernormal senses of the Homunculus and used them to understand the structure of the prison with just my hearing.

[Power: 20(+5)]

And then, I used the inhuman strength that transcended humans to break the restraints and tried to escape.

[Health: 20(+5)]

Even if I was wounded or injured in the war, I wouldn’t die as long as my neck wasn’t cut off.

While actively searching for a way to escape, I also kept looking for my sister.

Because I truly believed that my sister must be somewhere here.

[Job: Warrior – Mourner]

But now I know.

My sister is probably dead.

The reason I say probably is because I still didn’t want to accept it.

While finding no traces of my sister here would’ve been better, it didn’t turn out that way.

Though I ended up with a job that suited my build, it wasn’t exactly a happy circumstance.

If I had known it would turn out this way, I would have read the settings more carefully.

Of course, even if I had, not much would have changed.

But sometimes you can’t help but regret.

That is the fortress of the villain that seems to be beyond the sky.Especially so because it happened just after the fall.

I wandered in the darkness, not even aware of whether I was alive or dead.

There was not one definite thing.

Jumped from a height that even Homo Nkulus could not guarantee survival.

My arm was severed, and I lost a significant amount of blood from numerous cuts all over my body.

If it weren’t for Homunkulus, I would have gone into shock and died already.

Therefore, it was only natural to think that way.

Thoughts of possibly dying and going to the underworld.

My fear that my soul might be taken away by those vampires and stored somewhere unknown.

It was not just a delusional thought without a possibility. Considering the advanced technology they possessed, which surpassed the average medieval dark fantasy level, nothing would be surprising.

Of course, I was scared and anxious. I wished to find myself dying the moment I opened my eyes rather.

I hoped for a dreadful pain to slowly come upon my body, signifying my slow death.

Hoped only not to be awakened by the vampires greeting me in an unknown place.

After a while floating in the eerie silence where I could neither feel time nor my body, I reached a place that was a bit cold.

Cold and slender land. It was the sensation of a touch brushing gently against my forehead and running through my hair.

It felt familiar.

It was the touch of the only family I had who would tend to me whenever I had a fever.

It felt as comforting as the coolness that always felt nice whenever I had a fever.

It was a cold, yet somewhat tenderly comforting touch.

A long, slender, and hardened-fingers brushing gently against my forehead and running through my hair.

Was everything just a dream?

Were all the pain endured for the past year and the following excruciating incidents just nightmares?

If only that were the case.

“…Sister?”

These words fell out of me unconsciously.

But there was no reply.

Only then did I realize that many things were different.

I couldn’t feel the weight of the blanket that I would frequently cover over myself because I did not like the heat, and I couldn’t sense the unique hue of the turned-on computer from above my eyelids.

I was afraid to open my eyes, in fear that what I was ignoring might become a reality. But I couldn’t keep my eyes shut either.

That’s how I came to identify the presence that had been stroking my hair.

She was overall very pale.

But she wasn’t entirely white.

Her smooth skin was definitely white, and even her hair, covering her neck, and the one hanging over her chin was white.

But the tips of her bobbed hair, gradually turned black.

It was an eccentric color. An exterior that implies all the experiences I’ve gone through were real.

Moreover, the occasionally flickery tail and the sharp ears budding on her head were impressive.

The woman perked her ears and asked,

“How old are you?”

“Huh?”

“You call me ‘sister’.”

We were having a conversation.

How come?

I understood her language, and she understood mine.

I had no idea how this was possible.

But, I had no time to figure out. Her tail, thicker than a regular arm, was slithering towards me like a snake.

“Yeah.”

“How old are you?”

I couldn’t understand the situation. I woke up in an unfamiliar place, and a stranger was asking me my age, which felt rather peculiar.

Even if I had to respond, I wasn’t even sure how to answer.

Nineteen?

Or is it twenty since a year has passed?

If it’s about physical age, not mental age, then it shouldn’t be more than one year old. But even that wasn’t accurate.

Striving to remove the tail, I opened my mouth.

“Tw, twenty?”

I couldn’t possibly lose in terms of age. Unconsciously, I ended up calling her ‘sister’, but age is a sensitive issue.

So, I called out the maximum possible value. However, the mysterious woman who was bothering me with her tail just slightly curled up her mouth.

“Right. I am your sister.”

I lost. I should have said thirty.

“You can call me sister.”

“No, that’s all right….”

“That’s a pity.”

From noble mtl dot com

The woman stood up as she ended her words. Her light attire revealed much of her figure.

A well-toned body without any flab. Her long legs stretch out as she stretches her body.

Not to mention, the thick and dotted tail wagging gently behind her waist.

She was a descendant of metamorphic tribes and outcasts who separated from the three so-called ‘chapters’.

She was a beast-man.

Specifically, a snow leopard beast-man.The unique pattern distinct to a snow leopard’s thick tail was readily apparent.

She had the long, thick tail of a leopard. I trembled under the heavy mantle that shadowed my face.

“Dress up.”

There were clothes. Slightly bigger than my body. A shirt of strange hue integrated with mid-century style trousers and socks.

Only then did I realize that I was naked. The woman who had commanded me to call her ‘big sister’ signalled to me as she opened the entrance of the tent.

“Come out when you’re ready.”

Just then, a breeze tickled my hair.

It was a cold wind. The kind that reminded one of winter but felt refreshing rather than cold.

It was a refreshing feeling.

Even though I was completely naked, not even a straw cloak to cover myself, the urge to feel more of the wind was stronger than the thought that I should wrap myself with clothes.

I couldn’t help it.

It was the first wind I had felt in a year.

It was the first taste of freedom also the first sight of the outside world I had experienced in a year.

Its coolness bore testament to a life vastly different from my prior life as a neglected livestock from which blood had been drawn throughout the year.

It didn’t matter if it was cold or a winter wind. I just found it refreshing.

In the spot the woman had left, I sat for a long while, cooling my body with the wind that entered through the opened entrance.

I picked up the clothes and put them on only after a good while had passed, when I began to feel cold.

Considering the unusual resistance of Homunculus to the environment, it seemed to be quite a cold place.

The North perhaps? It might be considering there’s a snow leopard therianthropy here.

Reflexively recalling the locations of various dungeons in the North, I stepped outside and encountered the woman standing at some distance.

She was dressed quite differently from a while ago.

With a pattern reminiscent of a snow leopard’s, she was wrapped in a cloak and inside it she wore what looked like a sturdy white armor.

She had her arms comfortably extended but she was keeping her distance, and behind her, a fire was crackling.

Before I could fully appreciate that I was alive, the woman spoke.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes, thanks to you…..”

“Then I have a few questions.”

I had an ominous feeling. I felt as though cold water was poured into my consciousness which was still cloudy and unsteady.

I was leaning in towards that uneasy feeling.

“What are you?”

It was then that I noticed what the woman was holding.

It was a weapon.

Two stone sling axes. I was late to try and understand what kind of world I had woken up to, what kind of being I was.

“You better answer carefully.”

I was a monster in the dark fantasy.