A breeze from the stream swept past Roselle. The smell of blood and an acrid, scorched odor lingered in his nostrils, reminding him that the brief battle had not been his imagination.
The instant he encountered the monster eating a person, he had not even had time to feel afraid. Drawing his gun, aiming, and firing had been pure reflex, and everything that followed had been his body reacting before his brain could catch up. His racing heart and surging blood had even stirred a strange excitement in him, as though he were taking part in a game he had long anticipated.
Only after Charlotte narrowly evaded a fatal attack and wounded the monster, and a pillar of sunlight appeared in the sky to burn it to death, did Roselle belatedly realize what had happened.
The monster's corpse, with extra eyes on its forehead and cheeks, lay nearby alongside the servant it had been eating. Clergymen had covered them with separate cloaks. An arm with five fingers and deformed joints protruded from beneath one.
That very hand had torn off part of the sleeve of Roselle's hunting attire, nearly disemboweling him. Had Charlotte not knocked him aside before that dark green beam shot out, he would probably have become a lifeless corpse, just like the withered bushes.
Once he realized this, the thrill and excitement gradually faded from Roselle's heart, and a chill slowly crept up his back.
It was not as though he had never seen anyone die. Half a month earlier, in his family's manor, he had witnessed Etienne Marceau being shot dead. But on that occasion, he had merely thrown two vases from the second floor. The manservant had done the actual shooting. Besides, he had only recently transmigrated then, his memories jumbled, his whole existence feeling as though he had yet to wake from a dream.
He had secretly taken pride in his military training and in being braver than the average young noble. Working with Green to repel the attackers at the printing house had only bolstered his confidence. Today, however, he finally realized how feeble his meager abilities were against a real monster. He could not even match Charlotte, a woman.
Right, Charlotte... Roselle gathered his wandering thoughts and looked up at the young noblewoman who had just fought beside him.
Mud and blood stained the cuffs of her riding attire. Her felt tricorn had somehow slipped slightly askew, and her face was paler than usual. She stood beside three clergymen wearing Sun Holy Emblems, apparently explaining what had happened, occasionally glancing his way.
He faintly caught a few words.
"Viève... believer in the God of Artisan... he doesn't know yet... the earlier attack..."
He realized they were probably discussing him. Charlotte did indeed know some secret connected to the Church, and he himself was even part of that secret.
Recalling how she could sprint faster than he could, the strange words she had shouted just before the dark green beam struck her, and how she had tamed the hounds at the hunting camp, Roselle grew ever more certain.
More importantly, he had confirmed that this world was far from ordinary. It was not merely a backward society of nobles and churches that had yet to invent even steam engines or toilets, but a world concealing genuine supernatural powers.
A humanoid monster had three pairs of eyes, believers in the Blazing Sun could summon pillars of light, holy water could kill monsters, and Charlotte Sauron was clearly no ordinary noble young lady.
I knew it. I knew Charlotte Sauron was special. Of everyone I've met since transmigrating, she's the most unusual... Could this be the so-called main storyline, and I just happened to trigger it...? After the fear and tension subsided, a trace of irrepressible excitement rose in Roselle's heart again, and all manner of thoughts sprang uncontrollably into his mind.
A short while later, Charlotte finished speaking with the men and turned to walk toward him.
Roselle immediately collected his thoughts, intending to thank her for saving him before taking the opportunity to ask about the monster and the Church. She clearly had no intention of giving him time to organize his words, however, and spoke in a serious tone with rather formal phrasing:
"Mr. Gustav, I'm afraid you must now make your own choice."
The three clergymen from the Church of the Eternal Blazing Sun soon cleared the scene, taking the monster's corpse back to the church in the city for further handling. Earl Foulace arranged for servants to remove the remains of the unfortunate man the monster had killed, publicly claiming that he had been attacked by a startled wild beast and, owing to his severe injuries, had already been sent back to the city for treatment.
The most influential landed noble near Sushit clearly knew a great many secrets. He swiftly dealt with everything and announced the start of the hunt before his guests could grow suspicious.
These hunting events, long hosted by the royal family and widely imitated by local nobles, were essentially respectable outdoor outings. The servants and hounds did the actual searching, tracking, and driving of the prey. The young nobles followed on horseback, pursuing from a safe distance. Once the prey was brought to a halt or surrounded by the hounds, they would elegantly deliver the final blow.
Most participants merely enjoyed the speed, noise, and socializing on the fringes of the party, pretending they still possessed the skills to hunt foxes and deer.
Having hastily changed into a spare coat, Roselle Gustav rode slowly behind the crowd. The baying of hounds and distant gunshots reached his ears, but his mind kept returning to what Charlotte had just said.
After being drawn into a supernatural incident against his will, he now faced an important choice.
He could swear an oath, sign a confidentiality agreement, and pretend he knew nothing. Once the hunt ended, he would still be Baron Gustav's son, a young noble with a military education and a bright future. The Church might keep an eye on him for a while to ensure he did not divulge any secrets, but he would eventually be able to return to his old life.
Or he could truly enter the hidden world and become someone with wondrous powers like Charlotte. But the price of knowing the truth was submitting to the restrictions of the Orthodox Churches and various contracts. He would no longer be as free as he was now, and he would have to fulfill more obligations and face more dangers, including encounters with monsters like today's.
When Charlotte had reached this point, she had cautioned him:
"Don't rush to answer. It's best to calm down before making your final decision."
Her expression had been composed as she said this, as though she had once faced the same choice.
At first, Roselle had felt the choice was easy. He had already experienced transmigration and arrived in another world. Faced with a chance to encounter supernatural powers akin to magic, how could he possibly turn it down?
But recalling the shock of that dark green beam grazing past him, the strength with which the monster had blocked his hunting knife barehanded, and the servant's mutilated corpse, he began to hesitate.
Although the Gustav Family belonged only to the minor nobility, it held a hereditary title and ample land and businesses. He also carried advanced knowledge from another world. As long as he managed the newspaper and printing house well, gradually turned the technologies in his head into profits, and expanded his influence bit by bit, he would sooner or later have a chance to write his name into this world's history.
There had to be a reason supernatural powers remained hidden in the world's shadows. They meant not only power and knowledge, but danger and death as well.
Analyzed rationally, the choice between achieving great things through steady progress and stepping into a dangerous world with an uncertain future seemed self-evident.
Yet a moment later, Roselle remembered his frustration at being unable to catch up to Charlotte, forced to watch her charge toward the monster ahead of him. He remembered the helplessness of being able only to shout a warning when she faced danger, without any means to stop it.
Besides, why had he transmigrated, and could he return to Earth? The answers to these questions might well involve supernatural powers. If he did not even dare seize the opportunity before him, how could he hope to find those answers?
At that thought, Roselle suddenly let out a quiet laugh on horseback.
Of course an ordinary person should choose the first path, but I'm a transmigrator... Once that thought emerged, the heaviness in his chest abruptly lifted, and he raised his head to look ahead.
Charlotte was riding past the hounds, her sidesaddle posture much more natural than when she had first arrived. Several previously restless hounds noticeably quieted as she passed. One even tucked its tail and let out a low whimper before a bewildered servant tugged it onward to continue chasing the prey.
She's baring her teeth at the hounds again, isn't she...? Roselle gently squeezed his horse's flanks and rode after her.
This time, he did not want to merely stand at a distance and watch.