Omniscient First-Person’s Viewpoint

Beastmen.

Humans who inherited the traits of animals.

The type of beast they resembled varied from person to person, but it was well known that most beastmen came from domesticated animals that humans were familiar with.

And just as well known was the fact that their treatment depended on the role of the animals they originated from.

Dog beastmen. Sheep beastmen. Cow beastmen. Horse beastmen. Pig beastmen.

There were other types, of course, but these five were the ones who had formed structured societies within human civilization. Their numbers were far from small, and their presence was deeply entrenched, making it impossible to uproot them by force. Any attempt to forcibly separate them would leave wounds as deep as trying to rip out hair buried in flesh.

...But.

"Human King, there's something I need to ask before you leave."

I need to confirm this in advance. Depending on how the Human King views beastmen, my plans might change.

Faced with this problem, the regressor took a brief moment to recall the past.

A future that had yet to come. A world where only the regressor retained the memories of what had happened before.

In that future, a great conflict erupted between humans and beastmen. It didn’t matter who started it. The divide had been there since birth, and over time, it had widened, creating an irreversible rift.

Of course, conflicts like that could usually be resolved with brute force. What did it matter if wounds were left behind, as long as they weren’t your wounds?

And so, humanity handled it as they always did—with sheer, mindless suppression. Blood flowed, and the cries of beasts gradually faded into silence.

The problem was, that was also around the time the King of Sins awakened.

The Beast King was involved, too, feeding into the snowballing weight of sin. No matter which side you chose, blood would be on your hands...

The regressor clenched a trembling fist, suppressing the surge of emotions from their memories. With a sharp, electrifying presence, they turned to me and asked:

"Do you consider beastmen to be human?"

"What?"

Shei’s sudden question made no sense to me. So, I answered her with complete common sense.

"What do you mean, ‘consider beastmen to be human’? You’re saying that like they’re something other than humans. Wow. I really didn’t expect this from you, Shei."

"What?"

"Beastmen are mixed beings or whatever, but that doesn’t matter—‘beastman,’ the very name itself, literally has ‘man’ in it. That’s all there is to it. You go on about saving the world and stopping the King of Sins, but turns out you’re a racist."

"I AM NOT! I see beastmen as equals to us!"

"See, I don’t even think about that at all. Just like how I don’t look at you and go, ‘Oh, Shei is a non-beastman, a non-vampire, and a non-mage who uses martial arts~.’"

It was an unfair reality, but the moment you started acknowledging differences, you lost.

Say there was a difference, and you were a racist.

Say there wasn’t a difference, and you were a hypocrite.

"So the Beast King considers beastmen to be the same as humans, huh? Tsk. I thought savagery would make them more ruthless, but they’re surprisingly noble? It’d be easier to manipulate them if they were more barbaric..."

What the hell was she seeing beasts as?

Beasts were simple creatures.

They only attacked the weak, only when they were hungry, and only when the conditions allowed. Unlike humans, who bit and tore into each other over even the slightest differences.

"Seems like you don’t get it, so let me explain. The first part of a phrase is just a modifier, and the second part is the essence."

"Cow milk and horse milk might be different, but in the end, they’re both milk, right? Same with beastmen. Cow beastmen and horse beastmen might be different, but they’re both humans."

"WHY is your analogy about milk?!"

"Because they’re all mammals, and that’s the common factor. Think about it—chickens and ducks are livestock, too, so why aren’t there more beastmen like them?"

There was even a scientific classification for that.

It was a perfectly rational answer, but the regressor just frowned as if she didn’t like it.

"Why are you even asking this?"

"Because where we’re going next is a city where humans and beastmen coexist... and also clash."

"Where exactly?"

"The border of Enger Plains. A city where farmland meets the wild."

Enger Plains—farther west than the Military State, at the very heart of the continent. A land steeped in history, the foundation of the Empire’s dominance.

And the name of a city standing at the very edge of civilization came from the regressor’s lips.

"We're going to Ende."

Ende, the city of Enger Plains.

A borderland between savagery and civilization. Above it stood the powerful Empire and its vassal states, ruling over the continent. Below it stretched the untamed wilds, untouched by civilization.

It was the perfect battleground for conflicts between humans and beastmen.

"And what exactly do we need to do there to get information on the Demon Gods?"

"The details might change a little, but the core plan is simple."

The regressor pointed at me, then at Azzy.

"You, and Azzy. You’ll gather hunters and mercenaries in Ende... and hunt the wolf packs that roam Enger Plains."

"Of course, I’ll help, too."

Azzy and I exchanged puzzled glances.

A wolf pack?

For an ordinary human like me, that would be a serious threat. But for Azzy, hunting wolves would barely count as morning exercise.

There was no reason for the regressor to make a big deal out of it unless...

"It’s the King of Wolves, isn’t it?"

"Correct. A beast so powerful that, rather than trying to hunt it, the city is more concerned about whether it will destroy them first."

"If wolves were any more organized, if they actually attacked Ende with a proper formation, the city would have been wiped out long ago."

The city could be destroyed?

The regressor wasn’t one to exaggerate.

Which meant the King of Wolves really was that powerful?

A mere beast?

Hmm. Maybe I had agreed to this mission too hastily.

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

As I mulled over my concerns, another question popped into my mind.

"Wait. If the wolf pack organizes and attacks Ende, the whole city will be wiped out?"

"Yeah."

"And we’re going there?"

"Yeah."

Long ago, there was a promise.

If a dog fought alongside humans against the bad wolves, then dogs would forever be humanity’s friends.

On the surface, it seemed like a simple deal between humans and dogs.

But there was always a third party involved.

The wolves.

Savage, vicious creatures that always plagued both humans and dogs.

Villains, yes.

But necessary villains.

Just as Azzy, the King of Dogs, wandered in search of the Human King to uphold that ancient promise...

The King of Wolves would also seek out the King of Dogs.

To sink its fangs into the traitorous sibling.

To break the promise.

"If the King of Wolves comes for Azzy, then... won’t Ende be overrun by the wolf pack?"

"Maybe. But that ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) would still be the better outcome."

The regressor shrugged.

"It’s better than the alternative—beastmen rising in revolt from within and crowning the King of Wolves as their ruler."

***

Where does civilization end, and where does savagery begin?

A philosopher might ponder this as an interesting thought experiment, mulling it over with idle curiosity.

But any scholar worth their salt would name the Enger Plains.

Specifically, the southern Enger Plains.

Not because of the vast wilderness that civilization has never conquered, but because of the single, insurmountable peak that stands there.

A peak so formidable that no one dares to name it.

A mountain that humanity has challenged countless times, only to be humbled each time.

Thus, they call it nothing but the Mountain of the Mountain Lord.

"Long, long ago. Back when I still smoked my pipe..."

A dark night. A mountain where, in any other place, the chirping of insects and the rustling of small creatures should have filled the silence.

But not here.

Tonight, there was no sound.

Not from prey. Not from predators.

Even the wind dared not breathe.

The oblivious insects, normally heedless of danger, remained utterly still. The birds, creatures of boundless freedom, refused to spread their wings.

At this moment, in this place, no one could make a sound.

No one could move.

They could only hold their breath and wait for this moment to pass.

This was the Court of the Mountain Lord.

And all beasts of the mountain must bow in fear.

"You wolves were always lackeys of humans. Sniffing out their enemies, barking to distract their foes. Servile little mutts doing their bidding—nothing more."

She lay atop a boulder, loose robes draped over her body. A black-brimmed hat shaded her sharp eyes. Black markings stretched like whiskers across her cheeks, and dark stripes cut through the thick orange mane cascading over her shoulders.

Her voice rumbled like rolling thunder.

Her paws, resting upon the stone, were heavy enough to shake the ground.

She was the Tiger King.

The Mountain Lord.

The Apex of the Land.

Her ears, slightly folded back in displeasure, flicked toward the unwelcome guests before her.

"And now you have the nerve to come crawling to me, asking me to join you in tearing apart humans?"

Before the Mountain Lord stood several figures in human shape, their heads held high.

To any ordinary human, the Mountain Lord was both an object of terror and reverence.

It was not so long ago that humans worshipped tigers as kings of the mountains, offering them tributes in rituals.

Back when the Barbarian Nation still stood in the south, the Tiger Lord Festival was an event presided over by the king himself.

To meet the gaze of the Mountain Lord was unthinkable.

Their heads should have been crushed between her fangs already.

But the one standing at their forefront...

She had no choice but to acknowledge him.

Because he, too, was a king.

"You’re not ready to fight!"

Even before the towering tiger, the King of Wolves bared his fangs, his bloodshot eyes locked onto hers.

There was no reverence. No fear.

Only violence.

"Awooooo! I am a wolf! I am not a dog! I am nothing like that traitor! And I am nothing like a coward like you!"

"Oho? A coward, am I?"

"Grrrrr! You’re just making excuses not to fight!"

The Mountain Lord growled in irritation.

The King of Wolves did not back down.

"Tiger! Are you fear? Or are you fury? Or are you just another housecat, rolling over to have your belly scratched by humans?"

"You dare speak to me that way?!"

"What are you doing, huh?! Sitting on this mountain, pretending you’re in charge—is that all a tiger is supposed to do?!"

The Mountain Lord was, after all, still a beast.

A tiger ruled over valleys and peaks, claiming dominion over the mountain.

That was its purpose.

No, rather...

She had never considered any other purpose.

What else should the Mountain Lord do but rule the mountain?

She let out a low, rumbling growl of frustration.

"Then tell me, wolf. If ruling the mountain is not enough—what more should I do?"

"Fight!"

The King of Wolves howled.

"Bite! Tear! Rip! Devour! Your claws are meant to tear, your fangs are meant to rend! Humans are taking more land by the day, and you’re just sitting here like a coward—how much longer will you hide?!"

"I do not hide! This is my land! How is ruling my land the same as hiding?!"

"Awoooo! That’s why you let them hunt you like prey!"

Thunder cracked through the sky.

The Mountain Lord’s roar shook the forest, sending a tremor through the earth.

Some of the beastmen behind the Wolf King collapsed where they stood, unconscious from sheer terror.

And somewhere, deep in the mountain, lesser creatures simply died, their hearts failing from the sheer force of her fury.

But the King of Wolves did not flinch.

He stared straight at her.

Mad.

Rabid.

A beast that had devoured even his own fear.

The Mountain Lord took a deep breath, exhaling through her nose as she cast a pitying glance at the wolf.

"...Wolf. You seek to become violence itself? A pair of fangs and claws with no purpose but to destroy?"

The Mountain Lord’s rage began to settle.

The King of Wolves also seemed to calm—just slightly.

"Awooo... I don’t know. But I have violence. I have fangs and claws. And there is something I must tear apart."

"Your other half?"

"My opposite."

All beasts possessed wisdom.

They could feel shame and vengeance.

They could avoid battles they knew they could not win.

And they could throw themselves into battles they had no choice but to fight.

The Mountain Lord was old enough to be wise.

She did not know the details of what had broken the wolf before her.

But she understood what had caused it.

"Oho. I do not know what humans have done to you..."

It was hard to feel anger toward a beast that was missing something fundamental.

The Mountain Lord idly chewed on a silver vine, muttering to herself.

"If ever there comes a day when I must use my violence... I shall entrust it to you. This is a promise."

The Mountain Lord was a pinnacle.

She was one of the strongest beings upon the land.

There were few creatures that could challenge her might.

But she was not the strongest.

Because humanity ruled the earth.

The tiger was only the lord of the mountains.

Though she had slain many humans, it was insignificant compared to their sheer numbers.

In truth, the Mountain Lord had been forced to retreat, her domain shrinking as humanity expanded.

Her only true enemy was humans.

The one force she had to keep an eye on.

And so, she made a promise to the Wolf King.

If ever she needed to fight against humans, she would stand by his side.

Their business was concluded.

The King of Wolves turned to leave.

But before he vanished into the night, he left her with one final remark.

"Awoooo. That day is coming soon."

And with that, he disappeared.

His mission was accomplished.

Yet, his tail remained curled.