27

As expected, gathering information about the elves, who were the Empire’s greatest threat, was essential for my survival.

This time, I had set my eyes on a certain female elf—because she always kept her eyes closed and was attended by three retainers, I suspected that she held a high position within the Republic.

Unlike other elves who used the river, she performed actions centered around rituals, almost as if she were “purifying herself.”

“This definitely means something.”

Since she had never once opened her eyes and was accompanied by retainers, I could not help but feel that she possessed either a special status—or perhaps some unique constitution or ability.

Therefore, my observation here was currently focused on her, making sure I did not miss a single movement.

Most likely, that elf was blind.

And precisely because of that, I had to exercise the utmost caution.

Even now, I hid myself and fully utilized my telescopic vision to carefully watch her every move.

Because I lacked knowledge of magic, my observation hours inevitably increased, but I did not complain.

I referred to the blind elf as “Number 8” and continued observing her every single action.

(Damn you, Republic! To be hiding such a weapon!)

“Elves really are not to be underestimated!”

I chuckled to myself while staging this little farce in my head.

Well, I was bored, so it could not be helped.

It was fine that I had uncovered the cause of the Empire’s downfall, but… how should I put it? Perhaps I should say that it left a hole in my heart?

No, that was not it.

What had disappeared was the hope of “maybe.”

Somewhere deep down, I had wished that there were survivors of the Empire, or a group that inherited its technology, so that I might still have a chance of becoming human again.

But reality was merciless… When I thought that I might remain like this forever, the drive to live faded away.

Unable to find anything I truly wanted to do, I could only act out these little farces to fool myself.

There was no one to talk to about my worries.

In the first place, there was no one I could even converse with.

It was sad, and also lonely.

How would the existence called “me” be treated in this world?

I grew afraid to think about it.

I hated imagining it.

Sulking like that, every time I moved I stared intently at the swaying breasts before me.

Even without a partner, I still had something like sexual desire, which was troublesome.

Thanks to that, I was able to devote myself to monitoring the elves without going insane.

Now, as I watched Number 8 leave the river, I once again considered my plans.

(Yeah, Number 8’s breasts were nice, but her ass was just as splendid. Ah, right. Dinner will be boar today.)

But in the end, the three great desires always won.

Since I was not good at thinking about difficult things, I had even started to wonder if “maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to just embrace being a monster?”

Now that I could no longer obtain the things I had once wanted, I had known too much of civilized life to be satisfied with only what was within reach.

(Is this the path that man also once walked?)

Of course, I did not want to end up like him, nor did I intend to.

But I also knew I could not remain like this forever.

After all, it had already been ten days since I returned to the cliffside base… I kept adding new peeking points and brooding over things.

As I stood up and left the place, rejecting one foolish idea after another, one thought lingered in my mind.

(I see, I just have to resolve my dissatisfactions one by one.)

Since a rare constructive idea had come up, I began listing my current dissatisfactions while heading back to base.

(First of all, the food tastes bad… wait?)

I stopped in my tracks and thought.

Meals were important.

One could say they were the most important thing in life.

Why then was there dissatisfaction?

(That’s right! I was dissatisfied with meals, yet even though there was a way to fix it, why hadn’t I done it?!)

Indeed, I had failed to make the simplest change to my diet.

“Salt—I want salt.”

I had thought at every meal.

In that case, the solution was simple.

(Then… I’ll go to Canaan!)

I just had to go get it.

Fortunately, the Kingdom of Canaan had the sea, and salt circulated in abundance there.

Once decided, there was no need to waste time.

I hurried back to base, packed my things, and set out.

Carrying a modified backpack and a sledgehammer in my right hand, I dashed through the forest.

Although it had become slightly warped from the last goblin cleanup, it was still usable as a weapon, so I brought it along.

Looking back, I regretted not stopping by Jisuvāya at least, let alone Aranvein, Koza, or Banai, to think about spare weapons.

That said, I had no deficiencies in daily necessities, and if I wanted to pursue greater convenience, I would have to dabble in magic—something beyond my knowledge.

I could only hope to obtain such things by luck, so I left that matter aside.

And so, I infiltrated Canaan territory.

Since I was in the forest, I could not be sure, but I was probably inside.

(Now, where should I obtain salt and spices…? No, I want bread too.)

The more I thought, the more things I wanted.

Thanks to the long period of a poor diet, there were more foods I craved than I expected.

For now, my target was a wagon.

If not that, then a village.

Since I was now a monster, raiding the frontier was nothing unusual.

To interrupt my elf observation duties just to secure supplies, I was already at the point where I could not afford to choose my methods.

Or rather, I had no other methods.

How could I possibly make a deal in this form?

There was also the language barrier, so peaceful negotiations were hopeless.

Besides, I had already been attacked by mercenaries from the Kingdom of Canaan, so since hostile action had already been taken against me, I had no need to hold back.

While moving through the forest, I recalled the map of the Kingdom of Canaan in my head and considered potential hunting points.

(Now then, which highway should I control… If I focus on the northern side where the salt comes in, which route would the caravans use?)

I exited the forest, crossed a highway, and entered the woods again.

By the time I reached the mountains to the north, night had fallen.

My current location was on the opposite side of my old base, so it was quite far from the town of Glenda.

It was probably somewhere north-northwest of the new settlement whose name I did not know.

For the Kingdom of Canaan, which sought to secure the southern lands, it was only natural that they would transport supplies to that front-line town.

And I intended to take them.

(Still, considering that even with 200 years they had barely expanded their territory, there must have been some reason up until around five years ago that prevented them from making a move. Otherwise, Seizeria would have expanded westward as well… Just what happened, I wonder?)

I could make guesses, but I had no clue what exactly triggered their territorial expansion.

Since I could not think of a way to find out, I decided not to dwell on it any further.

Although the sun had set, I found no place suitable for a base, and I had no option of stopping just because it was dark.

I decided to keep searching for a good location, though there was likely no water source nearby.

But if I went any farther north, I would get too close to “Agrinea,” a city once occupied by the Empire.

If that was the case, maybe it was better to make excursions here from the previous base instead.

(No matter where I go, the water problem follows me…)

No matter how high my body specs were, there was nothing I could do about that.

After letting out a sigh and taking a sip of water, I heard a noise.

What followed was the sound of voices—meaning people were in such a place, at such a time.

(This is beyond suspicious.)

Anyone in the mountains at this hour was nothing but suspicious.

Thinking, “They’re probably bandits,” I activated my camouflage ability and carefully moved toward the source of the voices.

Since visibility was poor, I did not use farsight while moving, instead relying on sound and smell to search as I closed the distance.

After heading northwest for a while, I found a place where faint light leaked out.

There were also faint voices coming from there.

I could not tell what was being said, but I understood that several people were shouting in agitation.

As I approached the light source, a small hut came into view.

Judging from the lumber around it, it seemed to be a woodcutter’s hut.

Maintaining my camouflage, I settled into a good position and used my telescopic vision to peer inside through a gap in the window where the light leaked.

As I adjusted my position to get a better look inside, I spotted a man.

(Oh, yeah. Definitely bandits.)

If I were to sum up his appearance in one word, it was “pitiful.”

Or perhaps more accurately, “filthy.”

A shabby-looking red-haired man with stubble on his face brandished a curved blade and shouted angrily.

Though the situation inside the hut was still unclear, I judged that there was no threat to me, so it was nothing to worry about.

There was no longer any need to keep my camouflage, so I deactivated it and lumbered on two legs toward the hut.

Mimicking a lighthearted greeting like “Hello, newspaper delivery!” with a series of guttural “gwa-gwa” sounds, I opened the hut’s door without hesitation, only to find, in addition to the man I had seen earlier, three other suspected bandits—and the bloodied corpse of a man.

Ladies and gentlemen, we have a crime scene.