Case 04: The Dragon with a Heart Condition

Monster Girl Doctor Volume ZERO — LNCrawler · All chapters

CASE 04:
The Dragon with a Heart Condition

The operating room in Lindworm Central Hospital had been built to be quite large. Even with the bulky frames of a scylla and arachne and the long body of a lamia in it, there was still space left over. In the middle of the room, surrounded by beings both monster and human, was the operating table on which lay a single young girl.

She wore a simple surgical gown without a single decoration or adornment. There wasn’t any sign of nervousness or anxiety on the patient, Skadi Dragenfelt’s, face.

“Now, then, Miss Skadi, we’ll start with this,” Sapphee said, and handed her an inhaler made of rubber and glass. It was another item born of the advanced technology of the Kuklo Workshop. “The anesthesia will gradually make you sleep, but please just allow yourself to relax. When you wake up again, the surgery will have finished.”

“…………” The small dragon gave a nod of her head.

The anesthetic had been specially made by Sapphee. Glenn had heard that the main ingredient was an eastern variety of liquor. The results of her experiments had determined that alcohol had an anesthetic and analgesic effect on dragons. He had also heard a story of a fire-breathing red dragon that fell into a deep sleep under the influence of mead. Although they were said to be the strongest beings alive, they seemed to have quite a surprising weakness.

Sapphee’s skill was truly marvelous, to be able to use this weakness and produce a practical anesthetic in such a short time. Glenn was sure that if she hadn’t been there, Skadi’s surgery would have been impossible.

No, he thought, that wasn’t quite right. It wasn’t just Sapphee. The same went for Cthulhy, Arahnia, and the two who weren’t present for the surgery, Memé and Kunai, as well. And there were countless other people who had striven to help the cause, without whom the surgery would have truly been impossible. That alone showed how much everyone wanted to help Skadi. Of course, Glenn himself felt the same way.

“One… Two… Three… Yes, just like that—take deep breaths…” Sapphee said, speaking to Skadi. She appeared to be counting and confirming the depth of the anesthetic.

With each breath she took, Skadi’s eyes began to sleepily close. Her breathing became shallow. As the concoction affected the dragon’s central nervous system, the minimum amount of life-supporting functions inside her body would be maintained. Together with the anesthetic Sapphee had made, the technique seemed like something Glenn would have written a paper about back at the Academy.

But now Sapphee’s skills were being used to actually save a life.

“I’ve administered the anesthetic, Dr. Cthulhy,” said Sapphee.

“Thank you,” Cthulhy said, nodding.

Anesthesia was normally used to ease a patient’s pain, but this time the aim was to sedate both the patient’s body and mind so she wouldn’t move no matter what was done during the surgery. Since the patient was a dragon, if she acted violently during the surgery, no one there would be able to stop her.

With her mouth covered by a cloth mask, Cthulhy used only her eyes to tell Glenn to steel himself. Taking deep breaths, Glenn mentally reviewed the surgical plan and his role in the operation.

It’s okay, he thought. He could do it.

“…It’s time to begin.”

At Cthulhy’s command, the operation to excise the dragon’s second heart had begun.

***

The surgery was proceeding smoothly.

Making the incision in Skadi’s chest, first up was exposing the diseased area—the fake heart. Clinging to the top of her ribs, the fist-sized heart beat steadily. The inside of it flickered with blue light, as if it were burning.

Excising the fake heart was Cthulhy’s role. First came separating it from its roots—the fake blood vessels that extended from a number of different areas. Cthulhy immediately determined the best position to make the incision and began severing the tumor and blood vessels. There wasn’t a hint of hesitation or disorder in the movements of the single most skilled physician on the continent.

Glenn used an instrument to grab the severed blood vessels and connect them to where they originally should have been. This was to minimize the blood loss incurred from severing them.

It was a fight against time. They couldn’t waste any of it. It was Cthulhy’s view that with Skadi’s physical strength as it was, she wouldn’t be able to endure a long surgery. They had to curb the blood loss and finish the operation in the shortest time possible.

Thus far, they had yet to experience any real problems with excising of the tumor or suturing the blood vessels.

Glenn wasn’t working alone. Arahnia utilized her four arms to connect the blood vessels as well. While she wasn’t a proper medical professional, her handling of a needle and thread was indeed wonderful. The practice had been effective, and even though she was now faced with her first real surgery, there was calmness to her technique.

Glenn took a peek at Arahnia’s face. She wore a transparent mask made of organdy cloth, and her straight, taut mouth was visible through the material. She seemed to be a little nervous, but she remained focused on her work.

“Dragons are strange organisms,” Cthulhy said as they progressed through the surgery.

There wasn’t a single acknowledgment of her words. Glenn and Arahnia were focused on their hands and didn’t have any energy to spare on conversation. Glenn was sure that Cthulhy herself hadn’t been expecting any answer. It was simply that she couldn’t calm herself down unless she said something.

“Dragons can greatly alter their appearance depending on their location. Wyverns, wyrms, naga, orochi, mizuchi… In human territory, they were all revered as gods or subjugated as monsters. The first generation of dragons all possessed unique biology that allowed them to alter their appearance according to where they ended up living. Whether they continued to possess extreme intellect, or lost their reason and became nothing more than true monsters, was a product of a way of life that they individually chose. However, if you trace them all back to their source, there aren’t actually many different races of dragon,” Cthulhy continued, speaking almost as if she were giving a lecture back at the Academy.

Glenn then realized that this was something she was used to talking about. That was why it unconsciously spilled out of her mouth—she wanted to pay close attention. She couldn’t let the operation fail.

“One way of classifying dragons is by the type of breath they have. Namely, water dragons, fire dragons, poison dragons, and those dragons that cannot use any sort of breath attacks. Four kinds in total. Skadi is representative of the fire dragons, and by combining the gas made inside her, the air from her lungs, and the spark created from mashing her teeth together, she can ignite the gas. From there, she can let loose a blaze of fire.”

If anything, listening to Cthulhy’s lectures calmed Glenn’s nerves as well. While he had become independent from Cthulhy as a doctor, it felt for a moment like he was a student again.

“For both fire breath and poison breath, the essence of both comes from the combustible, noxious gas that is generated inside them. This is why, in order to protect the inside of their bodies from the noxious gas, the various dragon races protect their organs—whether it be with pyrite, vivianite, et cetera. Even though she’s changed into a human form, Skadi still has iron content left over in her organs.”

It appeared Glenn’s guess had been correct and the glowing blue area of Skadi’s body had been created with a type of mineral. However, the real question was the fake heart that Glenn and the others were in the middle of removing. If he assumed it had been formed from her somatic cells swelling up inside her, then it wouldn’t be completely out of the question for the vivianite in her tissue to mix with the tumor and cause it to glow blue.

That being said, Glenn wondered if a normal tumor would be so precise in shaping itself into the form of a heart. Furthermore, he pondered whether a normal tumor would then send its roots out into the host’s blood vessels and behave like it was a real heart.

The tumor mimicked both the heart’s color and shape. The more Glenn thought about it, he couldn’t describe the way the tumor was acting as anything but mimicry. It was absurd—he knew there shouldn’t be any way for a tumor to have a will of its own.

“…I’ve cut away all of its outspread roots. How are you doing, Glenn?” Cthulhy asked.

“We’ve finished the suturing on our end as well,” Glenn replied.

Next to him, Arahnia sighed heavily through her mask. Although she was incredibly skilled, Glenn felt sure that, since she had never participated in an abdominal operation before, she must be under a considerable amount of mental anxiety.

“Okay, I’m going to begin on the tumor itself,” Cthulhy declared. Now they just had to remove the tumor that was stuck to the top of Skadi’s rib cage. It didn’t require as much delicacy as the work of suturing the innumerable amount of blood vessels. It was quite an easy process.

“Dr. Cthulhy.”

“What is it, Sapphee?” answered Cthulhy.

“Her blood pressure and pulse are rising,” Sapphee replied. In addition to overseeing the anesthetic, Sapphee had also taken on the job of watching Skadi’s vitals during the surgery. By watching Skadi’s blood pressure and pulse, she constantly verified that there were no abnormalities during the surgery. With her pulse and blood pressure rising, Glenn considered the possibility that their increase signaled some irregularity in Skadi’s original heart, when—

“Glenn, look,” Cthulhy said. She was pointing exactly at Skadi’s chest, past the ribs that had been cut open and exposed, to the other side of those bones.

It was glowing.

Glenn wondered what was shining—the fake heart was blocking his view, so he couldn’t really see. While he looked inside, some sort of steam-like gas rose up from beyond her rib cage.

“What the…?!” Glenn said in surprise.

“When fire dragons find themselves in danger, they raise their body temperature. In doing so, the flammable material inside their fuel sacs grows hot and spontaneously combusts, filling the insides of their esophagus, lungs, and stomach with flame. With this, they then start shooting out an endless stream of flame and violently struggle in anger. It’s said the scales on the outside of their bodies become like a burning frying pan. It’s the peak of a fire dragon’s rage, used to make sure they can deal with any foreign threat,” explained Cthulhy.

“But I thought she was supposed to be anesthetized…” Glenn replied.

“It’s an involuntary reaction. It’s fundamentally the same as a human’s body temperature increasing when faced with a cold. Seriously, dragon biology is just as foolish as ever. Step back a little, all of you.”

Before Cthulhy had said anything, Glenn and the others had already put some space between themselves and Skadi.

They couldn’t verify whether or not there was any flame, but Glenn imagined the fuel inside Skadi’s body was on the brink of igniting. The fact that she was fine even if the inside of her body was on fire illustrated to him just how tenacious the organs of a dragon were.

“Her body temperature’s rising, but the fuel still hasn’t ignited. Glenn, we’re going to proceed with the operation immediately,” Cthulhy declared.

“W-while she’s like this?!” Glenn replied.

“A doctor shouldn’t lose their nerve!” Cthulhy’s harsh rebuke startled Glenn. “If her body temperature keeps climbing and gets to the point where the fuel ignites, Skadi’s organs will light up in an instant! She may be a dragon, but not only is she in a weakened state to begin with, she’s in the middle of surgery with her body cut open—Skadi won’t be able to endure such temperatures! We have to finish the surgery before she ignites! Hurry up!”

There came a crackling sound. The smell of live flesh being scorched filled up the operating room.

“Hng!”

“D-Doctor!”

Cthulhy was holding the scalpel and forceps against the fake heart. However, Skadi’s body had already become hot enough to pose a danger to other living organisms. The heat passed through the metallic surgical tools and burned Cthulhy’s tentacles. Arahnia let out an involuntary groan of nausea at the sound and smell of burning flesh.

Cthulhy didn’t take any notice of her own burning tentacles.

“Glenn, cut it off,” she said.

Glenn steeled himself.

“My tentacles are holding it down. If it’s severed in an instant, then you won’t be burned at all. Hurry. Please…”

Cthulhy had already used her eight tentacles to anchor the fake heart. All that was left was to quickly sever it from Skadi’s body. Glenn knew the more time he took to sever it, the worse Cthulhy’s burns would become.

Cthulhy hated fire to begin with. Glenn couldn’t imagine the pain her tentacles were suffering from the heat.

The final job had fallen into Glenn’s hands.

“…I’ll do it,” he replied.

Glenn could feel Sapphee’s gaze on him. It was an anxious one. Just by taking one step closer, he could feel the heat from Skadi’s burning body. The heat was so intense that he doubted the inside of her body hadn’t already been ignited. It was only natural that Sapphee would be worried.

“It’s okay. You can do it.”

Glenn didn’t know who it was who said this. Whether it was Sapphee, Cthulhy, Arahnia, or even himself, he didn’t know. Perhaps the words had come from Skadi.

He took up the scalpel and quickly brought it up against the fake heart.

It was hot. Nevertheless, Glenn would finish in a flash.

The fake heart pulsated. He couldn’t say why, but it seemed as if it were groaning in pain. He asked himself if it was Skadi that was groaning—or were the groans his own? He assured himself that he was calm. In the hand holding his scalpel was all the skill and technique he had accumulated, concentrated together into a central point.

As he was hit by the heat, Skadi crossed his mind for some reason—specifically, the memory of the moment when Skadi finally decided she would undergo the surgery.

***

It was half a month ago.

Glenn was troubled. Naturally, he worried about Skadi.

He had tried again and again to convince her, but she refused to give him so much as a nod of her head. He had gotten the cooperation of the Kuklo Workshop. With the plan for the surgery firmly established, all he needed was to convince Skadi. But her feelings on the matter had nothing to do with the completion of the preparations. If Glenn couldn’t draw out Skadi’s will to live, then it would all be for nothing.

Even Cthulhy had left it up to him to convince her.

“…So you actually came.”

That day, Glenn hadn’t been called to the Council Hall like usual. This time, he came to the tall spire that stood next to the Council Hall. It seemed to have been used as a part of a church back when the city had been a fortress town, but now that a multitude of monster races had come to Lindworm, the beliefs of the residents had become multitudinous as well. As such, it was forbidden to erect designated religious institutions in the central plaza, and the church spire’s role changed to only ringing its bell to announce the time.

Glenn had heard that sometimes Illy would take a break during her deliveries on the roof of the spire.

“Do you not get tired of this, day in and day out?” Skadi asked, at the top of the spire.

She had deliberately called Glenn out to the place where one could get a sweeping view of all of Lindworm. It was a spot usually thronged with tourists, but at the moment there was no one else around. Glenn imagined that Skadi had had the area cleared out for their discussion.

The story of her disease had spread across the whole town via the city newspaper, but Glenn assumed it was a delicate topic of conversation for her—one she didn’t really want others to hear about. She didn’t even bring Kunai with her when she spoke with Glenn about the surgery, and always met with him alone.

“I’m not tired at all,” Glenn replied.

“Because it’s your job?”

“No… Because I still have yet to accomplish my goal.”

“I see. A reasonable response.”

Glenn had become accustomed to conversations with Skadi.

At first, he had thought her voice seemed fragile as glass, almost impossible to pick up, but once he got used to catching her words, he could hear her even outside. Of course, that being said, he still needed to draw extremely close to do so—practically huddling up against Skadi’s shoulder.

“Golden dragonscales, huh?”

Skadi’s conversations lacked any chain of reasoning. This time, she shifted her attention to the scale charm that was attached to Glenn’s medicine bag.

“This? I got it as a gift from Sapphee when we graduated from the Academy,” Glenn replied.

“You haven’t worn it up until now. Were you trying to be sensitive?”

“Y-yeah, pretty much…”

“In that case, why wear it today?”

“It’s kind of a long story…”

Glenn didn’t know everything about the disturbances Arahnia had been causing. But he thought that since Sapphee hadn’t said anything to him about it, it meant he didn’t need to know the details of the matter. Nevertheless, ever since Arahnia had started coming and going from the clinic, Glenn had seen signs that she had been eying his personal belongings. Thus, he decided to keep the one precious thing he would be distraught to lose close to him at all times.

“Scale-made goods aren’t enough to offend me. You can even use my fallen scales, if you so desire,” said Skadi.

“I-I see…”

Skadi’s tail swayed back and forth. It was so thick and long that it was hard to believe it belonged to someone so tiny. Glenn thought it might be twice as long as she was tall. It seemed possible for her to stand upright with just her tail, without any support from her lower body. Skadi seemed to be in relatively good health today, as it stood straight up on end.

Skadi took off her veil and tried to look out at Lindworm. With her height, however, she wasn’t able to peek over the spire’s safety fence. Glenn thought it natural, considering it had been built to prevent children from falling in the first place.

“Kunai, pick me up… Oh.”

Glenn assumed it must have been her usual custom. Skadi turned around and gave an order, but her bodyguard wasn’t with her. Instead, she was waiting at the base of the spire. Realizing her mistake, Skadi awkwardly looked downward. Glenn could see her cheeks were a little red.

“D-do you want me, to um, pick you up?” Glenn said, smiling as much as possible with his arms outstretched, all the while thinking how odd of a question it was to ask the centuries-old dragon that represented the city council.

Skadi wavered slightly until she finally replied—“Please.”

“O-okay.”

Skadi grabbed on and held herself close to Glenn. He wondered if he’d actually be able to lift her up, but Skadi lowered her own tail and laid it on the floor. Just the extra support of her tail made lifting her easy for Glenn. Her body was delicate and light to begin with. He wondered if it was due to her heart condition.

Skadi’s head could now clear the height of the fence, and she was able at last to survey Lindworm. For a dragon that should have been able to fly through the skies, Glenn imagined this was terribly inconvenient for her.

He wondered what she must have felt as she was held in the arms of a human.

Touching her lower back, the sensation was a mixture of human-like skin and hard scale. Her scales were displayed prominently from the sides of her torso to her back. They were hard and sharp, but when Glenn touched them gently, the rough, gritty sensation was rather addicting.

Against his stomach, he could feel Skadi’s small wings. Despite the claws and scales growing on them, the sensation wasn’t particularly painful, perhaps due to the robe Skadi was wearing. The feeling of the wings’ membrane in particular was soft, like a high-quality blanket.

Glenn had realized this before, but he once again confirmed that Skadi wasn’t wearing a single piece of underwear and was completely naked underneath her robe.

Dragonscales were hard and their tips resembled sharp blades. If she wore clothes not suited to her body, then her scales were likely to rip them to shreds. They were unlike the velvety, smooth scales of a lamia. Glenn figured she must wear such loose clothing because her scales could easily rip it apart.

The veil that hid her face was so no one would know she was sick, and she wore her robe to avoid the inconvenience of her scales. Glenn felt like he was unraveling the profound meaning behind Skadi’s choice in clothing.

“Can I talk about something with you?” she asked.

“Talk about what…?” Glenn replied.

“About the reason I won’t undergo surgery.”

Glenn gulped. It was something he absolutely needed to hear about.

Still in Glenn’s arms, Skadi extended her thin hands past the tower fence. Between her arms, the picturesque scenery of Lindworm was framed before them.

“What do you think?” she asked.

“What do you mean…?”

Being held in Glenn’s arms meant that Skadi’s face was very close to his. Glenn was practically close enough to brush up against her cheek, so he could clearly hear her voice.

“Below this spire, there is the central plaza and the fountain. These four main avenues extend in four directions from the plaza. If you go a little further, you have the Central Hospital. If you head northwest, there’s the Waterways. Beginning with the Kuklo Workshop in the southern section, there’s the artisan’s district. In the northeast, the arena.”

“I-indeed,” Glenn replied.

“If you take the western road, there’s the harpy village in the Vivre Mountains. On the southern foot of the mountains, there are the fields of the Aluloona Plantation. If you look to the east, there’s the Vivre River. On the northern bank there’s the graveyard city where the undead live. Everyone is welcome here without discrimination, whether human or monster. That’s the kind of city Lindworm is.”

“That’s right… I think it’s one of the best places to live on the whole continent,” Glenn replied. He didn’t embellish his words at all and spoke his truest feelings to Skadi.

Whether human or monster, discrimination based on one’s birth or upbringing could be found everywhere. But that wasn’t the case in Lindworm. Here it was completely natural even for neighbors to be of different races.

A city where humans and monsters living together was the norm.

“That’s because that’s how I wanted it to be,” Skadi continued.

“I think it’s a wonderful thing.”

“I hated the war,” Skadi muttered.

Glenn naturally didn’t think there was anyone that wished for war. Nevertheless, whether it was because of religious differences, the self-serving whims of politicians, or plain greed, there were times when war became desirable.

It seemed that Skadi generally despised wars and the many lives that were lost because of them—whether they were the lives of monsters or of humans.

“I’m a dragon,” Skadi continued.

“Yes, I know,” replied Glenn.

“I couldn’t help but find it strange. Why did humans and monsters fight? When I had my wings, I was always watching the conflicts between humans and monsters from far up in the heavens. Looking down from the sky, I couldn’t help but think of territorial quarreling and racial barriers as trivial and insignificant. And yet, both sides spilled each other’s blood and killed each other. In the more than a thousand years I have lived, it has always been that way.”

“I see.”

“I couldn’t understand by simply looking down from the heavens, so I even went down into the sea to visit Cthulhy. That woman was always doing research about monster evolution, so she was extremely interested in my own development as a dragon. With my lack of understanding about war, the two of us had common interests. We both wanted to talk with one another.”

Glenn assumed that this was how the two of them had developed their close relationship. It had all happened long before he had been born, but Glenn found it wonderful that a friendship that had grown from such a small beginning was still so strong.

“Cthulhy taught me many things. There are actually two kinds of war. War brought on by greed, and war brought on by the urgency of self-preservation. I also learned that civilization moved forward when there were no wars to fight. I despised battle. But those feelings were exactly why, after witnessing countless wars, I thought about how I could end them once and for all.”

A pacifist dragon. Glenn would describe her as compassionate—almost too compassionate. He gathered that it was precisely because of the raw power she possessed, and her status as a dragon, that she had no need to fight with anyone.

“At times, I would stand between two armies as they were about to clash and attempt to mediate their disputes. Back then, I had the appearance of a colossal winged dragon, so both armies would simply retreat… However, as I kept intervening in the affairs of humans, it began happening, you see.”

“You gradually changed into your current form… Is that what you’re talking about?” Glenn asked.

“That’s the kind of being we dragons are. Our forms change according to the environment we live in. As I grew closer to humans, I became more similar to them in form as well,” Skadi replied.

It was natural for organisms to adapt to suit the environment they inhabited. However, it was inconceivable for it to happen not through generational change, but all in a single organism’s lifetime. Glenn truly believed that dragons possessed possibly the most astonishing biology of any organism he knew of.

“When my wings grew smaller, I would have been able to maintain my dragon form if I had then fled from the temperament of humans and returned to the heavens. But…I still wanted to live on the surface of our world, mingling with human and monster. I wanted to spend more time watching over everyone.”

Skadi had sought both humanity and monsterkind. That was why, even though she was a monster, she had changed into a form resembling a human. Glenn had heard there were some dragons that could freely change their appearance between that of a dragon and that of a human, but judging by the way Skadi spoke, she could no longer return to her original draconic form.

She had gone that far just to witness conflict and discord. Glenn wondered why she had done so, when she herself said that she despised such conflicts.

“I saw the entire war between humans and monsters from its start one hundred years ago,” Skadi continued.

“…………”

“As far as I know, it was the most foolish war of all. The trigger was a trivial dispute, yet so much blood was spilled in the conflict. The continent was corrupted by all the spilled blood and leftover corpses. Having already lost my draconic form, I wasn’t able to mediate the conflict,” Skadi said, looking at her own hand.

It was covered in scales, but it had five fingers—just like a human. Glenn wondered just how unreliable the slender arms of her half-dragon body must have appeared to Skadi.

“I hadn’t imagined it would continue for a hundred years. There wasn’t anyone who could end it. I tried to do what I could, but in the end, what created the opportunity to end the war was the work of your father, Dr. Glenn. A mercantile executive.”

“…That was just a coincidence,” Glenn replied. He was surprised she knew so much. But when he thought about it, it was natural for her to have known. She was the town representative, and a dragon that had lived for a thousand years.

“It might just be coincidence. But one’s achievements should be spoken of in hindsight. As far as the actual results of his work are concerned, your father’s achievement has been a great one. Then…with the war over, I was able to do my job.”

“Job…?” Glenn asked.

“Creating a city without the slightest hint of war or conflict,” Skadi replied.

A war-hating dragon, a pacifist dragon. Glenn imagined it was natural for her to think this way. She was kind. Too kind, so that even though she had lost her original draconic form, she still worried about disputes between humans and monsters.

“There could never be another war like the previous one. That’s why I remade this town on the border between the two territories. To allow both monsters and humans to live here together, and gave it the name of a dragon. To give it the divine protection of the dragons.”

Still in Glenn’s arms, Skadi shifted her focus to the golden dragonscale affixed to Glenn’s medicine bag. It was a talisman. So long as Glenn wore it, it was said to give the divine protection of the dragons to the wearer.

“By remodeling a fortress city that stood along the trading routes, I made it possible for merchants to come through the city. I called on the centaurs and developed the city’s transportation system. I made the Waterways to make the city habitable for aquatic monsters. I explained my plan to build the city to Dionne and the harpy village elder. Employing Kunai as my bodyguard, I used her advice to make it possible for the undead to live here. With the Arena and Waterways driving the tourism business, many humans came and visited as well… I’m very happy.”

It was all the result of policies Skadi had proposed with the cooperation of the city’s residents. Tisalia. Lulala. Kay and Lorna. Illy. Arahnia. Cthulhy. Memé. Skadi. And Sapphee. Glenn thought deeply about the monsters he had come into contact with. Each resident of the city had contributed to the development Skadi spoke of. They had all lived their lives in realization of Skadi’s goal.

“Dr. Glenn. I truly want to thank you.”

“…Huh?”

“Cthulhy is here, and she brought you with her as well. As a city’s population grows, doctors become necessary. Nevertheless, the monster races have a wide variety in biology. There aren’t many doctors who are well versed in them all. I thought that I was putting a heavy burden on Cthulhy, but… Dr. Glenn. You’re here, too. Thanks to you, the burden she bears has grown smaller, and the people of the city are readily able to visit the doctor.”

“Oh, no, well I’m just… I’m just doing what I need to do.”

“As is the case with us all. Myself included. We’re all trying to fulfill our own missions. But among all of us, your achievements have been major contributions to the city,” Skadi said. She was returning to her idea that achievements should be spoken of in hindsight.

Glenn thought that, by that logic, Skadi herself should be given credit for her achievements. She was the one who made Lindworm into the city it was today, making a place for many humans and monsters to live. She had even indirectly given Glenn the opportunity to have a practice of his own by inviting Cthulhy to the town in the first place.

It was all the more reason to consider her someone the people of the city couldn’t lose.

“This body is in decay. But I’m fine with that,” Skadi continued.

Glenn didn’t hear much defeat in her voice. If that was the case, he wondered, why she was thinking this way?

“My body is that of a dragon. Even if my form is changed, this body is sacred. Bury my remains in the earth. Endless blood was spilled in the last war, but I’m sure burying the body of a dragon will be of some help toward expelling the corruption that has seeped into the continent. Having a dragon’s corpse close to the earth is quite the valuable commodity, isn’t it? Dragons usually die in places high up, where no other being can reach, after all.”

Glenn was speechless. What the hell kind of logic was that?

There was technically nothing incorrect in Skadi’s words. She had exerted herself for the sake of the city. As a result, the city had seen immense development. That much Glenn could agree with. He could also comprehend the idea that this was all Skadi’s personal mission.

Nevertheless, Skadi was saying that since she had fulfilled her mission, she should die. She had finished everything she needed to do. After everything, she had been unfortunately stricken by disease. So she believed that she should simply fade out peacefully. Was this her line of reason?

If he was going to borrow Kunai’s words, then was this truly her “ destiny?”

“That’s…” Glenn begin.

“Hm?”

“That’s not true at all,” Glenn said, seized with anger. Still holding Skadi, his arms inadvertently filled with strength. Without realizing it, he was now tightly embracing her. “Isn’t that wrong? If you were the one to make the city what it is, doesn’t that mean it’s your mission to watch over its future, too?”

“Watch over it?”

“Miss Kunai has been constantly concerned about your health. Dr. Cthulhy has been racking her brains nonstop in order to treat your condition. Sapphee’s prepared your anesthetic, and Memé and the other cyclops of the Kuklo Workshop have forged the necessary tools. Even the city paper that Illy delivers has articles expressing their concerns for your health. I’ve heard Lulala is singing in the plaza every night—praying for your recovery.”

“Are you saying I should live because of how much everyone thinks of me?”

“That’s not it. I’m not trying to push it on you, it’s just…”

Glenn hadn’t worked out what he wanted to say. The small, yet massive life that still hung in his arms stayed silent and listened to his words. He knew he must seem diminutive and powerless to Skadi, but nevertheless, he had something that he needed to say to her—a thought that he needed to get through to her.

“The people here… The people here in Lindworm, they’re good people. Good monsters.”

“Indeed. That is so,” Skadi replied.

“You were the one who made such a city, Miss Skadi.” That’s why, he thought. “Don’t you want to see more of this city’s future? To see where a city filled with such charming people will go?”

A human’s life was short. A dragon’s was long.

Glenn was positive that Skadi would be able to stay at the city’s side and watch over the manifold happenings in Lindworm. Just like the draconic figure that had once watched over the fate of the war.

“Your destiny still hasn’t ended,” Glenn said.

“…………”

“There’s nothing I can do to change one’s lifespan. I will agree that your body’s become weaker now that you have the form of a human, and there isn’t anything I can do about that, either. But, at the very least… This fake heart you have is an illness that I can treat. We’ve determined that it can be treated. And if that’s so, then that means you haven’t come to the end of your life.”

Even Glenn didn’t understand the true value of a life.

Contrary to expectations, she could continue to live on even after death. There were even stories from the far western edge of the world of dragons that moved after becoming nothing more than bone. In a city where the undead strode through the streets, the value of one’s life wasn’t something Glenn could easily determine by himself.

“If you’re interested in making sure this city stays on its path, then please, allow us to assist you to see that goal through, Miss Skadi,” Glenn pleaded.

“Hmm, is that so?” Skadi said, letting out a small laugh. “Hmm. I wonder if it is okay for me to live a bit longer.”

Skadi began to want to continue living. Before continuing, Skadi looked someone far off in the distance. She was a dragon who had witnessed war, and who had built a city where monster and human could live together. Glenn wondered, where exactly was she looking? How long would she be able to watch over the future of the city?

“Nevertheless, Dr. Glenn,” Skadi began.

“Y-yes.”

“You had no difficulty telling me to see the city into the future, but… Living for a long period of time just to watch over something is surprisingly boring. It’s not as if there will only be fun and interesting times ahead. Sometimes such boredom can claim a life far more easily than war or disease.”

“I-I see…” Glenn imagined this was a real concern for creatures that had such long lives.

“What is there to stave off the boredom?” Skadi asked.

“W-well I think it’d be best to live freely… Miss Dionne and Dr. Cthulhy both seem to do whatever they want to do, however they want to do it. Wouldn’t it be best to live a leisurely life similar to those two?”

“It wasn’t my intention to line myself up with them, but… For a while now, I’ve spent all my time on managing the city, you see, and it’s been so long I’ve forgotten what one would do to enjoy oneself.”

“I see, I see… What about eating delicious food? Or sweet things?”

“A new candy shop went up in the Waterways, didn’t it? What else?”

“Indulging in fashion, maybe… It might be a bit expensive, but what about collecting jewels or something similar?”

“Oh. I see. Jewels, is it? Precious metals are a good idea. The shinier, the better,” Skadi said, nodding repeatedly. It was said that dragons loved treasure, and it didn’t seem that Skadi was any exception.

“What else? What is there besides that?”

“R-right, let’s see now…”

Skadi’s tone of voice had the dignity befitting the city council representative, but her demeanor suited her outward appearance. Glenn couldn’t help but think that she resembled a child, pestering her parents for more and more of what she wanted.

“M-maybe love?”

Confectionery. Clothes. Jewels. Love. Glenn desperately gave Skadi examples that he thought a woman would like, picked out of his meager experience with the opposite sex. However, when he gave it a second thought, he was sure that they were all things such a long-lived dragon would have experienced before. He doubted these things would suddenly make Skadi’s boredom bearable.

“I see… Let me give it some thought… Also, you can put me down now,” Skadi said, flapping her legs about.

“Oh, r-right, right,” Glenn replied, flustered. He tried to set her down, but Skadi used her own strength to hop out and escape from Glenn’s arms.

Glenn thought that maybe the hug had been unpleasant for Skadi, but that didn’t seem to be the case after all—Skadi once again faced him and gave a deep bow of her head. The horns on her head that reached up into the sky moved with her, and pointed themselves toward Glenn as though they were singling him out.

“I’ll leave the rest up to you, Dr. Glenn,” she said.

“Yes, I understand,” Glenn replied.

She had begun to want to live. Even with her body’s transformation into something half-dragon, half-human, she still held the energy in her to live.

“Somehow, please. I’m begging you.”

As soon as she said this, it appeared. Skadi’s smiling face looked like a blend of her hopes and anxieties, a complete change from the dreary expression she had worn up until that moment. It looked so innocent, it made it hard to believe that she had lived for such a long, long time.

***

The memory flashed through his mind like a kaleidoscope.

Glenn couldn’t forget the smile Skadi had worn when she decided to keep on living.

He asked himself why he had remembered it in the middle of her surgery. The operation was still not over. As a final finishing stroke, Glenn sank his scalpel into Skadi’s second heart.

He was positive he’d be successful. With this confidence in his heart, Glenn began the final excision.

The night of this major operation would soon welcome its end.

***

Memé Redon was at a loss.

Walking quickly along the side of the canal, she kept wondering how things had ended up this way.

That night, the town of Lindworm lay sleepless. It was the day of the beloved Skadi Dragenfelt’s operation. Everyone in the town was too concerned with the results of the surgery to even think about sleep. It was a matter of great importance to the city, and everyone fluctuated between hope and despair at the rumors that flowed through Lindworm, as though it were a personal affair for them all.

Memé’s large eye was also wide awake, and sleep was entirely out of the question.

She wondered what the results of the surgery would be.

More precisely, she wondered if the tools that she and the other craftsmen had made would fulfill their roles properly.

She had confidence that the surgical needles that she had made would be useful, but Memé had completely painted over that confidence with her pitch-black anxieties. No matter how many times she tried to erase them, her abject thoughts that nothing she had made could ever be good enough began to overflow within her. Normally, during times like this, she would cower under the covers of her bed and eventually find sleep as she tortured herself with her self-deprecating thoughts.

But just for tonight, she wondered why she was walking toward the central plaza.

“Come on, come on, hurry up!”

“Ah, uh, w-wait!” Memé replied. She thought she was walking quickly, but the young girl running—or rather, swimming—next to her didn’t slow down for Memé at all. The girl would sometimes poke her head out of the water and urge Memé on.

That girl was Lulala Heine. She was a songstress who used the fountain in the central plaza as a stage for her performances.

“Jeez, Memé! I even told you that you absolutely had to come! It didn’t seem like you would in the end! You may not think so, but I’m really busy, you know! You gotta keep your promises! Why the heck do you think I’ve been singing every night?!” Lulala shouted.

“Um, no, it’s j-just, there’s a lot of people, at the, um, central plaza,” Memé replied.

“Yeah, and that’s why I’m singing there!” Lulala shot back. The cheerful Lulala didn’t seem to pick up on Memé’s distress from her shyness or her fear of areas where large groups gathered. Memé imagined that for someone with Lulala’s personality, her worries must have seemed trivial.

Memé had recently grown friendly with Lulala. It would be more accurate to say that Lulala started conversations with everyone she met, and Memé had been no exception. Memé tried to avoid approaching the bright young girl as much as possible, but Lulala always found Memé and loudly called out to her.

Today had been the same way.

Memé had heard that tonight, Lulala was going to sing all night in the central plaza. To pray for Skadi’s surgery to be a success, she was going to sing a song in an ancient language, loud enough to reach the Central Hospital.

A song wouldn’t change the outcome of the surgery. All that would determine the outcome was the skill of the doctors performing the surgery and the precision of the tools they used. That was how the craftswoman Memé thought of it.

While that might have been her opinion on the matter, she did know that there were people who cheered up at hearing Lulala’s song. Even Memé thought that if she listened to Lulala’s prayer song, it might calm her self-loathing.

However, Memé would never have imagined that Lulala would come directly to her lodging to get her.

“I-I was in the middle of changing…” said Memé.

“You were, weren’t you—you gave me such a shock when you came out in your underwear! More importantly, your boobs sure are big, Memé… I wonder if someday mine will be, too… Wait, just forget that for now!” Lulala replied.

“I thought for a moment that there was a seal outside my house or something.”

When a merfolk came up on land, the way they moved by crawling closely resembled a seal or sea lion. They weren’t able to walk due to the way their body was constructed, so there wasn’t anything merfolk could do to avoid the comparison.

Incidentally, Memé had never seen a sea lion before, but there were quite a number of seals in Lindworm—rather, there were quite a number of sealskin-clad monsters called selkies—but that wasn’t important.

“Anyway, it’s not my fault! You’re the one who didn’t come even though you promised you would!”

Lulala’s blunt words stripped Memé of any means of rebuttal. Memé could only challenge Lulala by saying that she would have liked Lulala to have told her if she was going to come to her house, but she was so shy around other people she couldn’t even manage this basic level of conversation.

“I-I was planning to go, but…” Memé stuttered.

“‘But?’ But what?!” Lulala replied.

“…I-It’s a pain.”

“You always get like that, don’t you, Memé?!” Lulala said, bursting into laughter.

Memé said it was a pain because for someone as scared of strangers as she was, stepping into the traffic of the central plaza meant being forced to consider those around her and to make sure she didn’t startle anyone. What was truly a pain for her to deal with was how she overthought everything out of fear of strangers.

She didn’t intend to imply that getting together with Lulala was bothersome. But Lulala loudly laughed off Memé’s hesitation and indecision. Memé thought that someone like Lulala, as bright as the sun was in the southern countries, didn’t have the troubles Memé did. Memé was both jealous of her and wished she could be the same way.

For Memé’s large eye, the sun-like radiance of Lulala was glaringly bright.

“Well, I guess I can be pretty annoying, can’t I?” said Lulala.

“N-no, that’s not…” Memé replied, completely taken aback. Lulala was cheerful and candid in her relationships with others, but there were times when she could be almost cruel in how readily she spoke her mind. Memé had yet to get a handle on the young girl’s personality.

“Oh, Lulala, they’re waiting—shoot.” Memé began. They were drawing close to the central plaza. There were visitors gathered at the entrance. Standing among them was a harpy with red wings.

It was Illy, an employee of Scythia Transportation. Memé had heard she had been caught up in some of the recent incidents that had made waves through the city, like the slave trader disturbance and the commotion with the giant god, but Memé didn’t know much about it all. She just knew her as the young girl working to deliver the mail. However…

“Oh, h-hello…” Memé begin.

“Eeeeeeeeeeeeeek!”

As soon as Illy saw Memé, she let out a shriek and ran away.

“Ah, uhm, ahh…”

It was the same as always—Illy spread her wings and soared off into the sky. She fled with such speed that she looked like a waterfowl taking off from a lake.

The reason for her escape was simple. Much like birds hate eye patterns, harpies hated the giant eyes of the cyclops. This had less to do with Memé and Illy’s relationship than their racial compatibility. Either way, it meant that every time Illy laid eyes on Memé, she quickly ran away from her.

“Aww, Illy left. Sheesh — there’s nothing for her to be afraid of,” sighed Lulala.

“Y-you’re, um, friends w-with Illy too?” Memé replied.

“Well, we’re close to the same age.”

The three of them—Memé, Illy, and Lulala—were all similar in age. Being friends with someone just because they were close in age was the kind of straightforwardness that was inconceivable to the self-deprecating Memé. Making just a single friend took her an excessive amount of time.

“H-hey, um, Lulala?” said Memé.

“Hmm?” answered Lulala.

“I-I’m gonna go back after all…”

“Huh?! Why?! You’ve come all the way here! Look, see, the plaza is right there! It’s not scary!”

“W-well, look at me, I’m so cowardly, and I’m not cute, and arriving with the star of the plaza might mean some bad rumors get spread about you, too, Lulala, and Illy hates me too, and I know even you’re just thinking that I’m just some indecisive, gloomy, self-hating, annoying, useless cyclops, aren’t you?! If that’s the case…”

“Yup! That’s all totally how it is!”

“Y-you’re not gonna deny it?! Y-you’re supposed to cheer me up!”

“I don’t want to—it’s tiresome.”

Lulala’s unflinching declaration left Memé in shock. With her plucky, energetic voice, Lulala completely acknowledged all the bad parts of Memé’s personality.

“And? So what?” Lulala continued.

“Huh…?”

“Do not coming to hear me sing in the plaza and your personality flaws have anything to do with each other?” Lulala asked, turning around in the water and rocking herself back and forth as she swam on her back through the night waters of the canal. Memé was impressed that Lulala could make it look so effortless.

“Um, but, I—”

“There’s no ‘buts’ about it! I’m going to sing, so everyone awake is here to listen! And we’re going to pray—pray that Skadi’s illness is healed for good! C’mon, lift your head up! Stop staring at the ground!”

Memé couldn’t tell if Lulala was trying to scold her or just saying whatever came into her head.

As she talked with Lulala, Memé finally found her way into the middle of the plaza, right in front of the fountain. Lulala swam into the fountain and lay down on the marble stage within as if there weren’t anywhere else she belonged. Memé suddenly raised her head.

It was bright. So bright that you wouldn’t think it was nighttime. Lamps made out of the Waterways’ special merrow glass lit up the area. Memé could tell at first glance that all the lamps had been carefully crafted by the artisans of the Waterways. She wondered if they had gone out of their way to bring them all the way from the canals to the plaza.

She wondered why. But the answer was simple. Everyone knew it would be a sleepless night, and had decided instead to fully embrace their sleeplessness. They gathered in the central plaza and lit the lamps. Memé knew that the lamp oil wasn’t cheap. It just went to show just how awake everyone in the city was that night.

All to hear Lulala’s song of prayer.

“Okay everyone, sorry to keep you waiting!” Lulala called out to the crowd gathered in the plaza, who then applauded her appearance.

Even the sidewalk café facing the plaza was open and seemed to have a fair number of customers. Memé had thought Illy had run away, but there she stood on the roof of the café. It seemed she had just fled to try and get away from Memé and was still excited to hear Lulala’s song.

Memé stealthily disappeared into the crowd. Lulala wouldn’t be able to see her from where she was, but Memé found a position where she could still see Lulala. Hiding in a place where she wouldn’t stand out, even in a crowd of people, was one of Memé’s specialties.

“Tonight I’m going to sing straight on until morning, okay?” said the plaza’s songstress with a wink, prompting more applause from the audience.

Everyone had turned up, drawn in by Lulala’s charm.

The crowd was entirely focused on Lulala, and not a single one of them paid any attention to Memé or her one eye. It was a city of monsters anyway, so having a cyclops present wasn’t a problem to begin with. If anything, the one who was most conscious of her one eye was the abject Memé herself.

“——————————♪”

Lulala began to sing.

Because of the light the bright, sunny young mermaid generated, no one was interested in Memé at all. Memé herself thought that dark and gloomy places suited her best. But standing in the shadows cast by places of light was enough to make her feel at home.

Memé lamented that it was going to be a long night.

“———————♪” The song, sung in an ancient tongue, was gentle on the ears.

Memé found an open space next to one of the nearby lamps and planted herself on the ground with her arms wrapped around her legs. She figured she wouldn’t be able to talk to the singing Lulala for a while, but that was a boon for someone like Memé, who had such a rough time conversing with other people.

I don’t want to. I can’t do it. No way —Memé had said all of these things without end, but in reality, she was happy. She couldn’t help but be happy. She was delighted that Lulala had gone out of her way to come and get her.

“He, hehehe…”

She had made friends with someone who was good at singing—this small, trivial fact made a convulsing, eerie smile appear on Memé’s face. She told herself it was easy enough that even she could do it if she wanted.

Nevertheless, she couldn’t help laughing—she was just too happy.

“Hehehe…” Memé giggled to herself with a smile spreading across her face. She was completely ignorant of the human couple sitting next to her as they put space between themselves and Memé.

***

It was dead.

Kunai Zenow believed that it had finally died off completely.

Her right arm—a piece of her body she had been with for many years. It had been made by connecting the muscle from four different men. Tonight, at long last, she had stopped being able to hear their voices. It was rare for her to stop hearing the voices all at once.

The parts had come from a soldier, a bloodthirsty murderer, a noble from a military family, and a cargo worker. All of them had been men of valor, each boasting an equal amount of strength, and had supported Kunai’s impressive fighting prowess for a long time.

Kunai Zenow was a flesh golem. There were times when she could hear the regrets and thoughts of the corpses that had been used to construct her, almost like voices in her head. Recently, these voices had grown much quieter. Previously they had tormented her by echoing in her head around the clock. But ever since she started having Dr. Glenn suture her together, the voices had become mere whispers, like lightly falling rain.

In her right arm, they had gone silent.

Something similar had happened before. Parting with their regrets, the souls within her body parts vanished. With it, the corpses that made up her body never uttered another word.

Drinking coffee at the sidewalk café in the plaza, Kunai moved her right arm back and forth. It moved. She could still move it with her own willpower, down to the tips of her fingers. That didn’t change, even if the flesh of her arm was now dead.

However, as was her way of doing things, Kunai had decided to bury the now-silent dead flesh and search for a new body.

The signs had long been there.

Lately, she had stopped hearing the murderer’s voice whisper about slaughter and killing. Kunai assumed that the murderer, along with all the other souls inside her patchwork right arm, had returned to heaven.

“I guess I worked it too hard…”

In order to give Arahnia practice, a needle and thread had been run through Kunai’s right arm over and over again. Maybe the souls in her arm had gotten tired of it. She felt a twinge of regret for making them stay with her as a single part of her body.

It was said that the undead had forgotten death, but even their kind experienced what it was like to die. Zombies’ bodies rotted. Skeletons’ bones eventually disintegrated. Whether they were living or not, there would eventually come a time when they would perish.

Kunai knew that someday, the time would come when she no longer could maintain her own existence, no matter what occult magic was used on her. Her body was born from a loathsome and abominable experiment, but no fault lay with the patchwork of corpses used to make her.

There was promise in Kunai’s search for a new right arm. She was sure that the manager of the graveyard district in the northern side of the city had fresh, good-quality corpses stored under his purview. Kunai figured that she simply needed to bring Dr. Glenn along with her and make a call on the manager soon.

“Excuse me.”

“Hm…?” Kunai replied.

“Do you mind—”

“—If we sit here?”

“Sure,” Kunai nodded without looking at who she had spoken to.

The open air café was quite crowded. Kunai figured everyone had been drawn in by Lulala’s singing voice. Despite being the middle of the night, the plaza was packed with people.

Lulala was singing in the fountain, and Memé sat enraptured by her song. Illy sat on top of the café in which Kunai was sitting. With the merrow glass lamps illuminating the central plaza, the commotion resembled that of the harvest festival.

“Hmph. Well look who it is…” said Kunai.

“Why, Miss Kunai— ”

“—Did you let us sit here without even knowing who was asking?”

The two centaur ladies-in-waiting giggled as they took their places at the table. The café tables were built to match human height, so the tall centaurs were able to sit at them just by folding their legs under themselves, not needing any chairs.

Kunai remembered their names—Kay and Lorna. They were the attendants to the daughter of Scythia Transportion. She assumed that they had asked to share her table because she was someone they were familiar with. Kunai thought it unlikely that the two had anything in particular to speak with her about.

“It’s been quite some time since we’ve talked, hasn’t it?” one of them said.

“When we had just become arena fighters, you were kind enough to give the two of us some lessons.”

“Did I?” replied Kunai.

“Well…”

“We wouldn’t expect you to remember tiny details like that, Miss Kunai.”

“…I’m ashamed.” Even now, having retired from the arena as a fighter, Kunai would use the pretext of training the fighters there to go back and visit. If she was being honest, there were a large number of centaur fighters in the arena, and it was too much for her to remember them all. There were times when she would fight close to a hundred of the fighters back to back. She had grasped that Kay and Lorna were both fighters, but any memories of helping them train or giving them lessons had been lost in the depths of her memories.

“Is your mistress not here with you tonight?” Kunai asked, inquiring about Tisalia.

The one equipped with a sword shook her head—Kunai wasn’t able to tell which one of them was Kay and which one was Lorna. She could only tell them apart by knowing that one wielded a sword, and one carried a bow.

“Our mistress doesn’t stay up late.”

“She’s made it her motto to lead a well-regulated life.”

“Hmm. That’s a healthy motto to have,” Kunai replied. For someone like Kunai, who didn’t sleep, it didn’t concern her at all. Why then, she wondered, were Tisalia’s two attendants here with her?

“Shouldn’t you be guarding her?” she asked.

“Well now, that’s quite the thing to say, isn’t it?”

“What about yourself, Miss Kunai—why aren’t you at Miss Skadi’s side?”

“Hmph…” Kunai replied.

“The two of us are faithful servants to our mistress. However…”

“We’ll still have our nightly chats while she is resting, you know.” Kay and Lorna looked at each other and gave a nod of agreement.

They looked a lot like each other, Kunai thought. She judged from their bearings that the one with the sword was the more martially skilled of the two. Nevertheless, the other one seemed to move as if she was compensating for the gaps in her partner’s defense. Kunai was confident that she wouldn’t have any trouble going up against them one-on-one, but figured that fighting them both at the same time would prove troublesome. It was clear proof that the two centaurs had been training with each other from a young age. It was in Kunai’s nature to unconsciously size up and contemplate the martial prowess of those around her.

“What do you talk about together?” she asked.

“Things we can’t say in front of our mistress.”

“Like our complaints, for example.”

“Complaints?” Kunai replied.

“Yes, of course. There’s always something, isn’t there?”

“We’re women, after all. Naturally, we have a complaint or two we’ve kept to ourselves.” They again turned to one another and gave a nod of agreement.

“Honestly, our mistress can be such a handful—she’s only ever gone out to dinner with the doctor once.”

“Yes, that’s right, and it was the same just recently, too. She was so unsure of herself regarding whether she should go give him a pick-me-up, since he has been working so hard.”

“We egged her on until she finally went to meet with the doctor, but—”

“—She is such an inexperienced young maiden about everything that just watching it can be so irritating.”

Kunai gathered that the doctor they were speaking about was Glenn Litbeit.

It was a widely known fact that the young daughter of the Scythia Transportation company was in love with Glenn—although Kunai thought it was something anyone could figure out just by seeing the two interact. Kay and Lorna had said they had complaints, but it seemed they were really just impatient about their mistress’s lack of initiative when it came to Glenn.

“Indeed, Dr. Glenn should come and visit the mansion,” one said.

“Oh, and have an audience with the Master? That might be a good idea.”

“The question is whether he would come obediently or not.”

“Indeed, what if we tied him up first?”

“Yes, why, that just might be unavoidable.”

“We could, of course, take the opportunity to have a little fun ourselves—”

“I’ll have you two end your scheming there,” Kunai said, interrupting in spite of herself, unable to let the two centaurs’ conversation continue any further.

The lamia pharmacologist, the well-bred centaur arena fighter, the songstress mermaid—it seemed to Kunai that there were many people in love with the young doctor. She imagined there might be more she simply didn’t know about. She knew a man popular with two different women was bound to be popular with even three or four others.

It appeared to Kunai that the two centaur bodyguards in front of her were considerably taken with Glenn as well.

“It’s just a joke, Miss Kunai.”

“That’s right, look, you’ve relaxed a little bit, haven’t you?”

The two of them giggled. As they sat there enjoying their herbal tea, they nibbled on the nut cookies they had with them. Kunai was wondering exactly when the two had even laid out these cookies, when the bow-wielding centaur reached out and offered her one.

“What are you playing at?” Kunai asked.

“‘Playing at’? Why, nothing at all!”

“It’s just sort of a sleepless night tonight, that’s all.”

“I’m sure you yourself, Miss Kunai, have one or two complaints about your own master.”

“You do, don’t you? Let’s talk about them. It’s that kind of night.”

“I don’t have any complaints at all,” Kunai said, biting freely into the offered cookie, which prompted Kay and Lorna to giggle at her again.

Kunai thought the two centaur ladies were quick to start laughing. Women were gossipy creatures, but she felt that if they could laugh so cheerfully, they could be forgiven for it.

The flesh that had been used for Kunai’s stomach came from the corpse of a well-trained female knight, but the knight seemed to have suffered terribly during her life and would always start complaining about the unfairness she had been dealt. Kunai was told the knight had been put to death for a crime she didn’t commit. It was unbearable for Kunai to always be forced to listen to the knight’s story.

What was annoying was that this stomach of hers was close with her chest, which had come from a young virgin. When something happened, her stomach and chest would join together, and the voices inside her would tell Kunai all about what they had wanted to do in their lifetimes. Kunai found that doing womanly and feminine activities worked best to silence her chest and stomach.

One example was what she was doing now—the conversation among the three women had satisfied both her heart and stomach, silencing them.

That was to say nothing of the romantic lamplight or the beautiful singing voice of the mermaid songstress—currently singing a song of prayer for the safe conclusion of the night’s operation.

Kunai couldn’t imagine a more maidenly, romantic night.

“Oh, come on now, Miss Kunai—”

“I’m sure even Miss Skadi isn’t perfect.”

“You’re right, she isn’t perfect.” Kunai said, thinking about her master and the surgery she was undergoing at that moment. “Despite how the Lady Draconess appears, she’s very spoiled, quick to cry, often relies on me to help her, and even though she gets lonely easily and likes to talk to other people, she always tries to act tough and never wants to show her true self to others—she’s got an extremely annoying temperament.”

“See, you do have some complaints.”

“Not only that, but more than us by the sounds of it…”

“However, none of that is really anything I’m dissatisfied with,” Kunai declared calmly. That was right, she thought. She didn’t have any complaints about Skadi. All she had was her own wishes for her master. “I simply want to reduce the amount of miscellaneous noise that troubles her and have her be able to enjoy herself more… That’s all I ever think about.”

Kunai thought back over the days that had gone by since she had become Skadi’s bodyguard.

Skadi was always using her own time for someone else’s sake. She had devoted her life to making the happiness of both humans and monsters a reality. That was wonderful in itself, not to mention her ambitious resolve to prevent war. That was precisely why Kunai felt the way she did.

Lindworm had become a place of calm and peaceful scenery, much like the plaza was at that moment. It was a city without any quarrels between either human or monster, a city where its residents could pray for the well-being of someone else.

Kunai thought Skadi had done enough and could now use her time for herself instead.

“In that case, you’re just like us,” one of the centaurs said.

“We’re always praying for our mistress’s happiness, after all.”

“…Really?” Kunai replied.

“Yes—”

“—Of course.”

The coffee was delicious. Kunai didn’t need to eat, but she was able to enjoy the flavors of food and drink. She was especially fond of coffee. It felt like when she drank some, it permeated the dead flesh that made up her body.

“In fact, let’s pray now,” one said.

“Yes, that’s a good idea.” The two attendants locked their hands together and closed their eyes.

Kunai found it strange that the two of them had looked like a pair of conniving women up until that moment, but now seemed almost to resemble a pair of demure nuns.

She made a fist and put it up against her forehead. Praying didn’t suit her, she thought. Who should a corpse be praying to—God?

No, she thought, it was different. Just this once, she felt that if she prayed along with Lulala’s singing voice, it would reach its destination. There was only one person to whom she would be praying.

“Dr. Glenn… I’m counting on you.”

Kunai, who hated doctors, pleaded with the one and only doctor she trusted.

The night in Lindworm wore on. A long night. A sleepless night.

The announcement that the operation was finished ran through the city, right at the moment Lindworm’s bright moon finally descended and the dawn had begun to break.