SS 15📍

Chapter 15

My heart pounded violently.

Human flesh preference. Currently hunting.

In other words, it was hunting me—its favorite prey.

Wherever this thing was taking me, the end of the road could only mean my death.

For others, death might simply be the end. But for me, it meant the opening of a forever life of slavery.

I quickly scanned my surroundings. I summoned statuses at random—anything, anything at all.

[Magic Lamp, Maker: Bernard, Year of Creation: 1021]

[Tile, Maker: Goslan, Year of Creation: 857]

[Wooden Door, Maker: Raul, Year of Creation: 857]

Then I saw it—a hallway branching in two directions.

The monster was walking straight, but when I looked down the corridor to the right, I noticed a statue in the distance.

A statue?

Wait a second…

When I had been talking to Dimia earlier, I was walking. Yet, even though no statue of Dimia had been in my sight, I could still hear the voice.

But the moment I entered indoors, the voice cut off.

That could only mean—

1. A statue is required to communicate with the god.

2. The statue’s coverage area has a limit.

So how far did that range extend? Where exactly did the voice become audible?

“What? Wait, what’s that?”

I could do this.

I jabbed my finger toward the statue and suddenly turned right.

The startled monster followed after me, snapping angrily, “What are you doing?”

I glared right back, though I was on the verge of collapsing from sheer terror. Still, I raised my voice louder, pointing straight at Dimia’s statue.

“Why is that here?!”

{Oh! Our impudent daughter has returned. Of course, you’ve chosen me over that shabby little temple.}

The moment I entered the hallway, Dimia’s voice echoed.

So the coverage area was probably one room or one hallway at a time. I didn’t know the precise rule, but I had a rough idea.

I walked past the monster deliberately, letting my footsteps pound loudly as I headed toward the statue. My lips moved rapidly, even though he couldn’t see them from behind me. My spine tingled anyway.

‘The thing behind me—is it really a monster?’

{Ah, yes. That is what you people call them. Yes, in your words, ‘monster’ is correct.}

His sly, amused tone drained me of the strength to even feel anger.

Clearly, Dimia wanted me frightened enough by the monster to bend to his will.

I swallowed dryly to steady myself. At that moment, the monster grabbed my arm and spun me around, his face full of irritation.

Before he could say anything, I furiously pointed at the statue and shouted—

“Doesn’t that look exactly like our god’s statue? That wistful gaze, that alluring face—and most of all, those fingers! That’s unmistakably the god Gerka! Don’t tell me you copied our god’s statue?!”

Shock was written all over the monster’s face.

What the hell… is this lunatic saying…?

Yes, I knew I sounded insane.

But what choice did I have? This thing preferred human flesh and was actively hunting me.

If acting spoiled or insane kept me alive, I’d do it.

“What nonsense are you—”

“Our High Priest will be arriving soon. You can explain it directly to him. I should go greet him, and you should fetch your own High Priest. This is a serious matter!”

The monster hesitated, then asked nervously, “I-Is this… really a problem?”

And then it hit me.

Yes, he was a monster. Yes, he was hunting me.

But he was also genuinely living as a priest—bound by the structure of society, by the hierarchy of Dimia’s temple.

Ah… in that case, maybe I had a chance.

“Oh dear, you’ve gone pale. Don’t worry too much. Of course, my High Priest will be furious, but I’ll put in a good word for you. After all, my father serves in the royal court, and our family’s always been close to that lineage. Our territory even has the famous Summer Palace, where the king stays every year. Naturally, the High Priest treats me like his niece—no, like his very daughter.”

Maybe I should enroll in an acting academy once I get back to Korea. I might actually be good at this.

The monster looked at me suspiciously, doubt plain in his eyes.

Push and pull—that’s the art of persuasion. So I pressed again, jabbing at the statue.

“But this is too much! Really—did you think you’d get away with copying Gerka’s statue like this?”

“No one copied anything!”

“Then when was Dimia’s temple built? Our god has been in this magnificent hall since ancient times. If you compare the dates, it’s obvious who copied whom.”

“If our statue is older, then how will you repay this insult?!”

It was almost laughable—how human the monster seemed.

His pride stung so badly that his expression was a portrait of raw outrage.

[Statue of Dimia, Maker: Jang, Year of Creation: 1177]

“It can’t be…”

The status window showed it had been made only ten years ago. I couldn’t help but snort.

“You’ll pay for this slander,” the monster warned, lips peeling back to reveal sharp fangs.

A chill ran down my spine, but that was just instinctive fear—not terror of his threat.

Because hadn’t he already been hunting me long before I accused him?

So what was the point of his fangs and his posturing now?

“If our temple’s statue is older, then it’s Dimia’s temple that should pay the price.”

“And what if it isn’t?”

“Who are we to declare what will happen? I’m merely a disciple of the High Priest, and you’re just an apprentice. Let’s both fetch our High Priests. Then we’ll see who’s in the right.”

At that, the apprentice monster shouted, “Fine!” and ran off toward his High Priest.

The moment he disappeared, I bolted in the opposite direction, fleeing out of Dimia’s temple.

I don’t even remember how I made it back to my own temple. The familiar surroundings spun before my eyes.

Carnivorous monster. Human flesh preference. Currently hunting.

My god.

Monsters… living among humans, disguised as humans… while still preying on people? What in the world did “human flesh preference” mean?

I owned items made from monster hide. Even the coat I wore up here had been sewn from monster fur.

Wasn’t that what monsters were?

Like wild boars in the mountains—dangerous beasts, nothing more. That was what I’d always thought.

In fact, I’d even heard that in the countryside, people sometimes ate monsters. Hunting nobles’ game was forbidden, but monsters weren’t.

It was even encouraged. During harsh winters, young men of a village would form hunting parties to gather monster meat.

That’s what I thought monsters were!

I nearly vomited. I gulped down water, only to feel a shadow fall across me.

Startled, I turned—and saw Damien standing there, blocking the light.

How could a twelve-year-old look that cold and that sensual? Even with a wooden tub of washed dishes in his hand, his beauty didn’t diminish.

Caught in a daze, I stared at his face until he frowned.

“I take after my mother.”

So blunt. Typical of someone destined for an Assassin S-rank.

I said nothing, so he sighed.

“Those eyes—you were staring because of them, right? My mother’s eyes were purple.”

What did it matter whether they were purple or black?

“Not interested.”

“What?”

Damien narrowed his eyes at me.

What—was I supposed to use honorifics just because he did? He was the son of a count, sure, but I was the daughter of a count.

Yeah, I was a little afraid of that Assassin S, but I wasn’t going to back down.

I answered in the same blunt tone.

“Who cares about eye color?”

I had never seen purple eyes in real life.

But I had seen old Hollywood photos of that famous actress with violet eyes. Back then, I hadn’t understood why people thought it was beautiful. But now, looking at Damien, I got it.

Black hair paired with violet eyes—so striking it was almost mystical. The colors together were a work of art.

But his beauty wasn’t what mattered right now.

“Do you mean that—”

“Anyway, you’re good with a sword, right?”

I cut him off before he could continue.

Forget his eyes. Monsters could be storming in any moment.

And that apprentice would return with his High Priest. If the High Priest was also a monster, what then?

Our only reliable human here was Damien.

Still, even if he had a Swordsmanship A rank, did that reflect his actual current ability—or just talent and potential?

“What the hell are you talking about?”

He crossed his arms, waiting for an explanation, but I had no time.

Any second now, the monster could return.

I grabbed his arm. Despite being taller than me already, his arm wasn’t especially thick or muscular.

Could he really wield a sword with this? Doubt gnawed at me until I wanted to cry.

“You’re bad with a sword, aren’t you? Not very skilled? Just a beginner? Still training under the knights, like a squire?”

A vein bulged on Damien’s temple.

“I can take on three knights at once.”

It was such a childish boast—but to me, it was the most reassuring thing I’d heard all day.

“Really?”

“Really.”

“You’re not bluffing?”

“Who do you think you are, to speak so rudely—”

“Then can you kill a monster?!”

I clung to Damien and cried out desperately—when suddenly, from right behind me, came a knock, knock.