TLBP 17

CHAPTER 17…………………………………………..

—Lying is a grave sin. And if you commit a sin, you must be punished.

—Hmph, what are you saying? Stay still. Otherwise, you’ll get cut. Do you know what this is? This is a sword. Sharper than most fangs.

The tanuki raised the sword it held in its front paw. The sharp tip pointed directly at the vine bag tied around my waist.

Skillfully, it cut a portion of the vine bag, and the blue crystal and the egg inside tumbled to the ground with a thud.

—Look at this dazzling color!

The tanuki held up the blue crystal, eyes wide. The once-dark hideout inside the tree was now bathed in a soft blue glow.

—Not too bright, but just the right amount of subtlety. So beautiful. Even Eve would like this. Good thing I noticed it.

—You noticed it?

—Yeah. Some strange beast was wandering around with this lovely stone, so I followed it. But now… how should I deal with you?

The tanuki inspected me carefully while I was trapped in the vine net. It tilted its head, puzzled.

—You’re a beast I’ve never seen before. What exactly are you?

—I’m called a Grid Ratel.

—Ratel? Don’t lie. None of them can talk like you. They’re all idiots. And they look completely different.

—You know a lot about the beasts in this forest?

—Of course. The only one who knows more than me would be the witch, I think.

—Good. So you know a lot, huh?

I felt my body tilt slightly. It seemed the clawing I’d done on the vine net from the unseen side had worked.

The vines tore with a zzzt, and I fell to the ground.

—W-what… did you just do?!

As a result, the tanuki that had been below me ended up pinned under my body.

I pressed down on it with my claws fully extended.

—I have a lot of questions, and there are many things I want to ask. But first, let’s bite your neck a little. You lied to me and tried to steal from me—you need to be punished.

—S-stop!

The tanuki tried to swing the sword in its paw, but I batted it away.

It spun and rolled across the floor, flying far from us.

I opened my jaws wide and bit down hard on its neck.

This time, unlike last time, I bit with real force; my sharp teeth pierced its skin.

Shaking its head with no mercy, the tanuki let out a strangled scream—ugh!—its eyes rolled white.

Its body went limp in my jaws. Only then did I release it onto the ground.

Seeing it completely still, I wondered if I had gone too far.

I tapped it with my forepaw, but the tanuki didn’t move.

Had it fainted?

I heard tanuki sometimes play dead…

I tapped its face with my paw to wake it.

After repeating this for a while, it let out a dry cough, human-like—kek, kek—and finally stirred.

—P-please spare me!

—I’ll see about that.

Of course, I had no intention of killing it… for now. As I said earlier, I had many questions about this forest and its beasts.

—You’d better tell me the truth. I get hungrier the longer we talk. And when I get hungry…

I bared my fangs and growled. A polite way to say: don’t make me turn you into food.

—O-okay! I’ll tell the truth!

The tanuki nodded repeatedly, clearly intimidated by my threat.

Still, I couldn’t fully trust its words. Having been tricked twice already, there was no guarantee a third time wouldn’t happen.

—W-what are you planning to do?!

—Stay still. Struggling will only hurt you more.

I gathered the vines and bound its legs together.

Seeing the tanuki lying on the ground, restrained, I let out a small, amused laugh.

This should be enough restraint. Now, what should I ask first?

Countless questions sprang to mind.

The most pressing one: why a human like me had been reborn as a beast.

I needed to understand my own condition first.

—Do you know of any humans from another world who were reborn as beasts here?

—Humans? Another world?

The tanuki raised its eyebrows, then shook its head. It seemed to have no idea what I was talking about.

Of course, even if it could understand words, it’s still just a tanuki. I hadn’t expected it to know the details. It was better to start with what it did know—about animals.

—Then do you know the name Kubilai? I think I also heard something like Yan-Mi…

—Ku… Kubilai!?

The tanuki trembled violently, more than I’d ever seen before. Its face showed clear fear.

It was proof it knew the name.

—Th-that’s a named beast… the master of the Eastern Forest…

—If it’s the master of the Eastern Forest, then it’s like a territory leader? Does that mean there are masters in the West, South, and North too?

—Exactly. Any animal living in this forest would know that…

—I came from a place far from this forest.

—Ah, that explains it. No wonder you’re a beast I’ve never seen. So you’re from somewhere else. Where exactly? The sea, maybe?

Upon hearing I was from elsewhere, the tanuki suddenly bombarded me with questions. Its previous fear had vanished, replaced by curiosity.

—I come from where humans live… a city, I guess.

—Humans? Ah, I see. A city? What’s a city?

—A city is like trees in this forest, but instead it’s human houses scattered everywhere.

The tanuki frowned.

—So many humans? That sounds awful. How did you survive there?

—I’m the one asking questions here. Answer mine.

I slammed a forepaw on the ground. It shrank its shoulders, intimidated. Once the tension settled, I spoke again.

—First, tell me everything you know about the masters of this forest.

—I… I don’t know much about them…

It spoke in a timid, crawling voice. I growled halfway as I expressed my dissatisfaction.

—You said you knew a lot about the beasts.

—Those who knew the masters well were eaten. Very few survived after seeing the masters’ faces…

—It’s fine. Just tell me what you know. Don’t lie.

I spoke gently, and the tanuki began to relay information quietly.

—Kubilai is the master of the Eastern Forest. A one-eyed wolf… huge. I heard it’s lived for hundreds of years. Very picky eater—won’t eat anything that doesn’t taste good. That’s all I know.

—What about the other masters? Which part of the forest are we in now?

—This is the South. There are two masters: the old snake queen El—gasa, and the young lizard Yan—Mi. But El—gasa disappeared after being injured by Kubilai and humans. Now Yan—Mi rules the South.

So that dinosaur-like creature was the current master of this forest.

—How strong are these masters?

—They’ve ruled the forest for hundreds of years. They’re like living disasters. If you meet them, small beasts like us just flatten ourselves and hope to survive.

—I see.

I organized my thoughts. Even the giant snake I had barely dealt with seemed on par with the wolf in strength.

Could its weakness have been because it was injured? Hadn’t fully recovered?

I asked about other forest masters. The tanuki knew only rumors about the West and North masters.

In the end, all I learned: the wolf and the lizard are territorial masters, and they’re strong—hardly helpful information.

I sighed in disappointment. My stomach growled loudly.

Being trapped in a pit and running through bushes had quickly burned my hunger away.

—Conversation’s over. Now, I’m going to eat you.

I lifted the bound tanuki with my forepaws. It squirmed desperately.

—No! See that branch sticking out from the ground? Pull it! There’s food inside!

I looked down, and indeed, a small branch, like a handle, protruded from the ground.

Pulling it revealed a wide, flat plank that opened with a creak, dust scattering. Inside were round fruits and mushrooms, piled high.

—Impressive.

—I gathered all of this myself. You can eat it all. No, please, eat it all.

—I mean… the idea of making storage like this is clever. The traps, this house—well-made.

The tanuki, embarrassed by the praise, licked its lips.

—Really? I have a talent called “Handiwork.” With the right materials, I can make almost anything that comes to mind.

—Amazing. By talent, you mean skill? I’d trade my skills for that.

Handiwork… what a wonderful ability.

With a skill like that, I could have easily made bows and arrows to hunt comfortably by now.

—Skill? You mean talent? You have talent? What kind of talent!?

The tanuki’s interest spiked.

“Talent” seemed to be another word for skill. It felt more natural than a system-like “skill.”

—Is it unusual to have talent? That rare?

—Not necessarily… What abilities do you have?

It asked me. A perfect chance to explore what this “skill” really was.

—I have four or five. I want to ask you about them…

—No way! Five talents? Are you joking!?

The tanuki’s black eyes widened in shock. I shrugged, wondering if I’d revealed too much.

—Is that a problem?

—Even if you have many, I heard two skills are the max… Even forest masters supposedly only have one or two talents. You’re not lying, right?

—Only one or two at most, huh.

—Can you show me your abilities? Receiving five talents from the Mother Tree!

The tanuki, legs tied, leapt toward me like a fish flopping on land.

—I could show… strong claws, Stealth Maneuver, and the courtship dance, maybe.

I extended my claws toward it, as sharp as any blade.

Instead of fear, the tanuki exhaled sharply.

—I thought your claws were impressive, but you really had talent. Then what’s Stealth Maneuver?

—Stealth Maneuver. Nothing special, really.

I lifted a paw and tiptoed. Not sure if the skill had activated, but the tanuki’s eyes widened.

—No footsteps! Incredible! How did you do that!?

—Really? I just moved quietly, like tiptoeing.

I scratched the back of my head, feeling a mix of embarrassment and pride. It had been a long time since anyone praised me like this.

Even including my human life, I couldn’t recall such a moment.

Perhaps because my ability was highly praised, this conversation felt unusually enjoyable.

I decided to show the tanuki other skills.

—I have a skill called Omnivore, which probably combines carnivorous and…

—N-no! You don’t have to show that!

Apparently, it feared I’d eat it after hearing “carnivore.”

I raised an eyebrow.

—I just meant I wasn’t sure what the talent really did.

—Oh, I see. Then what about the courtship dance?

—I dunno. Probably just dancing.

I shook my front paws and moved my body side to side.

It was purely improvised, yet my limbs moved as if controlled by some invisible hand.

—My goodness…

The tanuki’s face went pale in shock. I knew too—it was bizarre, grotesque movement.

The thrill of praise quickly vanished.