Whim
After struggling to bring down such a tenacious prey, it was time to examine the spoils.
Woojin split open the Hydra's torso and extracted its inner core.
It was enormous—larger than an adult man's body. He had to sling it over his back like a peddler carrying a bundle.
'Even eating this will be a task.'
He stared at the massive core in contemplation.
It was far too large to consume in one sitting. It had to weigh at least a hundred kilograms.
Woojin could eat far more than an ordinary person—but even so, devouring something of this size was impossible.
Should he squeeze out its blood and bathe in it, like Nine Roses had done before?
…He would think about that later.
'First, gather the rest of the loot.'
He surveyed his surroundings.
Corpses of Dark-Side priests lay scattered everywhere. Not a single living soul remained. Those fortunate enough to survive had long since fled down the mountain range.
There were likely undigested bodies inside the Hydra's stomach as well.
'I'd rather not rummage through that.'
He could imagine the unpleasant sight all too clearly.
Turning away, Woojin searched the visible corpses instead. He removed their inner cores and belongings, tossing them beside the Hydra's core.
All of it now belonged to him.
Strictly speaking, the flying squirrel-like beast had assisted in the hunt. It might claim a share.
'…That one never comes close.'
As always, the silver squirrel watched from a distance.
If he found a decent core, he might toss one to it as a gift.
As he looked around, his gaze landed on the bishop's body lying face-down in the dirt.
The priestess wearing the butterfly mask.
Woojin tilted his head slightly.
'Wasn't the body closer to the lake?'
Originally, it had been near the shore.
Now it lay farther out.
Why?
He approached to investigate.
Standing at her head—
He realized something unexpected.
'…She's still breathing.'
The Butterfly Mask had not died.
He had clearly seen the dagger pierce her chest. How was she still alive?
Woojin examined the area around her.
Dozens of empty glass bottles lay scattered across the ground.
He picked one up and sniffed it.
'Recovery potions.'
A liquid that rapidly healed wounds.
The situation became clear.
After the High Priest and Number 1 were killed, the panicked believers must have poured every potion they had onto the bishop in hopes of saving at least her.
Those who had accepted the power of the Demon Realm possessed stubborn vitality. The bishop's inner core had remained intact, and her talents were exceptional. With enough potion, the breath that had briefly ceased returned.
'Still… she doesn't look good.'
Naturally.
She had been stabbed repeatedly and then impaled through the heart. Such damage could not truly be healed with potion alone. It was like pouring water into a cracked jar.
When the Hydra began rampaging, the terrified priests ultimately abandoned her and fled.
'What should I do with her?'
Extracting and eating her core felt… awkward.
The pheromone ability of the silk moth was exclusive to females. Even if Woojin consumed her inner core, he would not inherit that particular skill.
Some abilities could only be passed on depending on gender.
"…Ugh… ah…"
Suddenly, the Butterfly Mask let out a faint sound.
It seemed she was trying to speak.
Woojin leaned closer.
"Who… is it…?"
After a brief pause, he answered.
"Number 42."
"You survived… I envy you…"
She murmured weakly.
Woojin asked what he had been curious about all along.
"Why didn't you hand me over to the serpent?"
Offering a living sacrifice would have allowed them to cross the mountain range safely.
Why refuse?
"…I… hate… being abandoned…"
The words came out like a dreamer's muttering.
Then her body went limp again.
She no longer had the strength to continue.
Woojin scratched his jaw thoughtfully.
His gaze drifted to the Hydra's massive inner core.
'Too big to finish alone.'
That thought resurfaced.
***
With the Dark-Side priest charade over, there was no need for the full-body robe and iron mask.
Woojin shrugged off the outer garment.
From his waist, he drew a dagger made from a beast's fang.
With it, he carved a chunk from the Hydra's core.
'About half a kilogram?'
Given the size of the whole, even a sizable slice barely made a dent—like removing a single plate from a towering wedding cake.
He brought the piece to the priestess's lips and squeezed.
Red blood flowed freely.
She drank it unconsciously.
Color returned to her face almost immediately.
As expected, the blood squeezed from the Hydra's core possessed remarkable regenerative properties—just as the dragon's core had once saved Woojin's life.
'…This feels familiar.'
Had Nine Roses felt something like this?
After feeding her the blood from roughly half a kilogram of core, her breathing stabilized noticeably.
With time, she would likely regain consciousness.
'Guess I'll eat some too.'
He cut another piece for himself and took a large bite.
Vitality surged through him at once.
The inner core of an ancient being contained intense power.
Woojin devoured it greedily.
Half a kilogram of flesh vanished in moments.
And then—
It became repetition.
Crunch. Chew.
The raw meat sounds echoed as he sliced and consumed piece after piece.
'…Still plenty left.'
He smacked his lips, glancing around sheepishly.
He was getting tired of it.
He had eaten over thirty kilograms already.
Yet more than seventy percent remained.
Leaving it for later was risky. Once the outer shell of a core was damaged, its energy dissipated quickly.
It would be a waste.
He had to finish it.
But there was simply too much.
"Hey… you!"
Woojin suddenly called out.
The squirrel's ears perked up.
He beckoned it closer.
After hesitating, the creature slowly approached.
Woojin cut off a large chunk of inner core—
And held it out to the squirrel.
The squirrel hesitated.
An inner core this rare—something unattainable anywhere else. Was it truly acceptable to share it so casually?
It glanced up timidly, gauging Woojin's reaction.
"Eat."
Woojin gestured insistently.
At last, the squirrel began gnawing on the core.
After a short while—
It let out a tiny hiccuping burp.
With its small frame, it filled up quickly.
The squirrel slowly rose to its feet.
Woojin's expression turned stern.
"You're not going anywhere until that's finished."
"..."
The squirrel quietly sat back down.
An unintended culinary torment.
But it couldn't be helped. It would be a waste to leave such a treasure uneaten.
The Hydra's inner core had been excessively large—almost impractical. Thinking back, the Hydra itself had been weaker than its size suggested.
'Aside from regeneration, there wasn't much worth noting.'
Its regeneration defied common sense.
A perfect ability for survival.
Creatures of the Demon Realm grew stronger the longer they survived. With such extraordinary regenerative power, the Hydra had endured long enough to be called an ancient being.
Yet perhaps because it relied so heavily on that gift, it hadn't felt truly threatening. It merely tried to crush opponents with mass and brute force.
'Strong, yes… but compared to the dragon or Nine Roses, it falls short.'
Inferior in rank to other Outer Gods.
Still, its ability was worthwhile.
Woojin lightly sliced the back of his hand with the machete.
Small bubbles formed at the wound. Then, as if sewn by invisible hands, the cut sealed rapidly.
'Hydra's regeneration.'
It had been a while since he inherited something truly useful.
He flexed his fingers with satisfaction.
Then curiosity struck him.
'If my head were severed, what would happen?'
Would it split into two?
Unlikely.
Abilities too fundamentally alien rarely transferred in full. Much like how he could not inherit the silk moth's pheromones.
Of course, this was merely his hypothesis.
He would only know for certain if he tested it—
But he had no desire to experiment in that way.
Just then—
"…Ugh…"
A faint groan.
The Butterfly Mask shifted.
Moments later, her eyes opened.
She lifted her head groggily—
And froze.
Before her lay the dismembered corpse of the Hydra.
Nearby, Woojin and the squirrel were calmly tearing into its massive inner core.
An unbelievable sight.
She sank back down, blinking in disbelief.
"…What is this… a dream?"
For a bishop of the Dark-Side priests, she looked rather dazed.
Woojin ignored her and continued eating.
There was no need to explain. Once the haze left her mind, she would piece it together.
She pinched her own arm, then slowly stood and approached.
The squirrel stiffened, tail raised high in wary defense.
"Don't start anything. Finish your food."
"…."
The squirrel obediently returned to its meal, nibbling at the core as though reluctantly eating vegetables.
The priestess stared blankly at the creature.
Tap. Tap.
Woojin tapped the ground beside him with the tip of his machete.
Startled, she lowered herself to the indicated spot.
The meal resumed.
The sound of raw flesh being torn and chewed echoed for some time.
"…Why did you save me?"
The question came softly.
Woojin paused, thinking.
How should he answer?
The reasons were complicated.
She seemed someone he could converse with. During his time in the city, she had quietly helped him. And her refusal to offer him to the Hydra had left an impression.
But the decision had been instinctive—a mixture of emotion and intuition.
Difficult to articulate.
And bothersome to explain.
So he answered simply.
"Just felt like it."
The moment he said it—
The Spider Queen came to mind.
'Capricious Nine Roses.'
That was what the Dark-Side priests called her.
Her actions and thoughts were impossible to predict. What could not be understood became something to fear.
Woojin realized something then.
Or perhaps, he empathized.
'Nine Roses isn't capricious.'
She simply had no need to explain her reasons—
To those beneath her.
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