IBTBD 03

Chapter 03

And so, three years passed.

Rumors spread like wildfire throughout the empire: The Marquis of Aymond plotted rebellion, and his entire house was wiped out.

But I could say with certainty—the people who chased me that night were no imperial knights.

And didn’t they say the Aymond daughter begged pitifully for her life before finally dying?

What an outrageous lie.

If that were true, then what about my last, desperate leap off that cliff?

As you can see, I’m still alive.

I almost drowned in the raging river currents, but by sheer luck, I survived.

And now—

“Chuut.”

Hand over everything you’ve got.

That’s how I’ve been living—acting as a bandit, no, a guide, in Mount Brown Bear, a place crawling with feral bears.

“…Flying squirrel?”

The caravan knight had been circling the same spot for nearly an hour when I appeared before him. He tilted his head and, as if enchanted, reached out a hand.

Well, I couldn’t blame him. My carefully groomed fur was soft and irresistibly silky.

But I had no intention of letting some fool—who couldn’t even tell a flying squirrel from an ordinary squirrel—lay a hand on me.

“Chuut!”

“Ouch, ouch! Was that a no-touch warning?”

Smack!

I slapped away his hand and jerked my head slightly.

In that instant, shadows darted out from the trees and rocks.

Rabbits, martens, little birds—ordinary woodland creatures.

They swarmed around the caravan wagon and began to ransack it with perfect coordination.

Not even locked chests or snacks hidden in inner pockets were spared.

“W-What the—?! That rabbit just picked a lock!”

“No! Stop! That’s the snack my wife secretly packed for me!”

The knights fumbled for their sword hilts. They swung wildly at the nimble little thieves, but of course, not a single blow landed.

Naturally so.

Heh. These are the best of the best.

The elite members of none other than the Flying Squirrel Gang of Mount Brown Bear.

How did a marquis’s daughter end up like this, you ask?

Well, to explain that, we’d have to go back three years.

Following my mother’s dying wish, I headed north.

For some reason, I could no longer return to human form.

Honestly, I thought it was for the best.

With the astronomical bounty on my head, not only the imperial knights but even street beggars were searching for Muriel Aymond with fire in their eyes.

And that bounty extended to albino squirrels as well.

Wasn’t there a rumor that catching one albino squirrel could feed a peasant family for ten years?

Because of that, bounty hunters flooded every mountain in the empire.

Even imperial knights combed through the farthest reaches of the continent, leaving no stone unturned.

But as the saying goes—darkness lies beneath the lamp.

Here in Mount Brown Bear, I was living quite comfortably.

Right here!

A smug grin spread across my face.

Nestled between the insane Black Dragon Duke’s territory and the capital, the mountain was treacherous and swarming with the notoriously vicious brown bears.

Only someone completely mad would dare set foot here.

Even the imperial knights avoided it.

There’s no way they’d expect me to be hiding this close by.

Ha. Search all you want. You’ll never catch me.

I snorted in contempt.

O-Of course, it wasn’t easy at first…

Even now, I still sweat remembering those days.

Every night, the echoes of predators’ roars made me tremble with fear and loneliness.

Still—I had to survive.

For my mother. For myself.

To uncover who had truly targeted House Aymond.

To find the man my mother had told me about, the one waiting in the North.

I’ll uncover it all. I swear it.

I was just renewing my resolve when—

[Boss, this haul’s a bust.]

[No food, just shiny rocks! Useless, useless!]

The mountain bird, Chrorongi, pecked irritably at a knight’s head.

No, it wasn’t literally speaking—but somehow, I could understand animal voices now.

Was it after that three-day fever I suffered upon arriving in Mount Brown Bear?

Probably.

It was around then that I founded the Flying Squirrel Gang.

At first, it was just a group of weak, small animals banding together to survive.

I helped squirrels find their forgotten acorn caches, lent food to animals preparing for winter—always for a small fee.

Word spread quickly across the entire mountain.

And before long, everyone wanted to join under me.

Hmm… maybe I sound more like a loan shark than a gang boss…

Either way, it meant I now bore the responsibility of feeding all of Mount Brown Bear.

Which is why this caravan wagon—

“Chuut!”

Wasn’t up to standard.

From a professional perspective, even shaking down the knights’ pockets wouldn’t yield more than a few bags of nuts and scraps of bread.

[Boss, let’s just call this one off.]

That was from Doctor, the rabbit, my gang’s second-in-command and resident brains.

I agreed. The cost-to-benefit ratio was terrible.

“Chuut.”

All right, pull back.

Just as I was about to retreat without regret—

Clatter!

The tightly shut wagon door burst open, and someone bolted out.

A plump, well-fed man with smooth skin, like a bear fattened for winter. Clearly the caravan master.

“W-Wait, please!”

Shoeless, he stumbled toward me—then collapsed flat on the ground.

“Ghost! Please, save us!”

“Chu… chuut?”

Wh-What?

Did he just call me… Ghost?!

“Master, what do you mean by that? You’re calling this squirrel… ‘Ghost’?”

“Can’t you see? It’s that one! The very spirit said to dwell in Mount Brown Bear!”

“You mean… the being that guides travelers safely through the mountain in exchange for payment?”

The knight asked in shock.

“Chuut.”

What in the world are they talking about?

Curious, I twitched my finger. The caravan master instantly turned back to me and explained.

“Among merchants, it’s a well-known story. They say there’s a guide in this mountain.”

Some called it a wandering spirit, others a mischievous mountain fairy.

But the reason such ridiculous titles existed was simple—

Once people left Mount Brown Bear, they forgot everything about it.

…There was such a secret?

I had always found it odd.

My regular cloth merchant, for example, always acted shocked to see a squirrel here, as if it were his first time. I just thought he was an idiot.

Or maybe he was just pretending out of loyalty…

But to think they forgot once they left the mountain—

It really did feel as if this place was protecting me.

“This mountain has long been said to harbor the power of a dragon. But truthfully, merchants don’t care what it is.”

What mattered was that every caravan that met the ‘Ghost’ had made it safely through the mountain—

And always much faster than expected.

And so the Ghost’s legend quietly spread among merchants of the empire.

“O-Of course, I don’t ask this for free. Bring out the prepared gift.”

At his order, the knights hauled out sacks hidden in the wagon.

[One, Two-shik, Three-sam, Raccoon… Boss, that’s four whole sacks!]

[We won’t go hungry this winter!]

The little guys weren’t exaggerating.

Sacks of mixed grain, dried jerky, even jars of honey!

They piled up before me, stuffed to the brim.

“We didn’t know your tastes, so we prepared a variety.”

This caravan master wasn’t stingy, that was for sure.

Like the elders always said: generosity flows from a full granary.

And for once, I couldn’t help but grin.

I plopped myself onto a low rock, flicked a finger, and the caravan master began his tale.

“As you see, I’m a jeweler. I deal mostly with accessory shops frequented by noble ladies. But things rarely go as planned. An accident at the mine made gemstone supply difficult. I managed to secure some, but the capital is so far…”

“Chuu, chuu.”

I nodded, fully understanding.

Distance-wise, the North wasn’t too far from the capital.

But the problem was this mountain, standing right in between.

The rough terrain made wagons difficult to move, and the brown bears—who saw every intruder as an enemy—were far worse.

That’s why most merchants avoided Mount Brown Bear altogether, taking longer detours instead.

So if this caravan had chosen the direct route, it meant their business was truly urgent.

The caravan master wept openly, saying if he missed his deadline, the noble ladies would make his life a living hell.

Silently, I handed him a dry leaf.

“Th-Thank you, Ghost! You can’t imagine how cruel noble ladies can be.”

Oh, but I can.

I endured four long years of torment among noble brats.

I knew all too well how two-faced, manipulative, and poisonous they could be.

After a brief moment of thought, I rose to my feet.

“You… you’ll help us?”

The caravan master looked at me as though I were a tragic heroine.

“Chuut.”

Yes. Why not?

Today, I’ll guide you by the fastest route!