Omniscient First-Person’s Viewpoint-Chapter 543: Sheep and Dog

Hughes watched the landscape pass by as they rode atop the buffalo, his mind caught between the wilderness around him and the banter with the regressor beside him.

The environment shapes people. And people are beasts. In other words, the environment shapes beasts.

In that sense, saying that wild animals are violent is neither an overgeneralization nor an illogical conclusion. Untamed nature is filled with suffering, disease, insects, predators, competition, and starvation. In such a harsh world, kindness is a weakness, a shortcut to death. At best, a sense of kinship among their own species allows them to survive together.

That’s why it was astonishing that the buffalo Azzy brought along was carrying them on its back without resistance. Herbivores, by nature, are prey for carnivores. Even with strong bodies and sharp horns, they are inclined to be cautious rather than curious.

Yet somehow, the buffalo Azzy led was running alongside its herd, completely unfazed by their presence on its back. The other buffalo showed little concern as well, brushing past them without any particular wariness.

It wasn’t as fast as the regressor would have liked, but it was certainly better than walking.

Despite traveling effortlessly without lifting a finger, the regressor was clearly dissatisfied.

"Why do I have to ride with you?!"

"Because I’m weak! If I run out of energy, I’ll fall off and turn into a chunk of meat!"

"You’re a vampire now! You won’t even die!"

"And if I get trampled a thousand times over, will Shei pick up my bits and put me back together?"

Hughes could read people’s thoughts and match their pace accordingly, but he couldn’t read the movements of beasts. Especially not buffalo. Unlike horses or donkeys, buffalo moved in unpredictable ways. The [N O V E L I G H T] regressor, with that absurd cheat-level martial art of hers, could maintain perfect balance even on a running buffalo. But Hughes? The moment his strength gave out, he’d be swept away by the buffalo’s charge. A safety measure was necessary.

"...Hold on tight. No—don’t hold on too tight!"

"You mean just do it properly? Got it."

That’s not up to me. It’s up to the buffalo.

Right on cue, the buffalo leaped over a rock, shaking violently. The regressor, anchored by her martial arts, remained steady, but Hughes found himself airborne, on the verge of being flung off.

"Where the hell are you grabbing?!"

"Your stomach! I’m grabbing it properly, don’t twist it into something weird!"

True to the brutal wilderness, the ride was rough. The buffalo leaped over rocks, its large horns swaying dangerously with every sudden movement. At first, Hughes had grabbed onto the regressor in jest, but soon enough, he had to hold on for dear life.

‘Ugh! Even my master never handled my body this roughly!’

Thanks to the regressor, Hughes barely avoided being thrown off dozens of times. Not that she seemed particularly pleased about it.

"Enough already! Just use your martial arts!"

"Oh. Right."

"Wait, what are you—?! You lunatic! What the hell are you using it for?!"

"I thought I was going to fall, so I held on tighter."

"Are you an idiot?! You can’t just use martial arts on another martial artist’s body! Martial arts are a form of control! Not even a master or family member should recklessly use it on someone else’s body! It’s worse than breaking into someone’s house! If I hadn’t deliberately suppressed my martial arts, you’d have been counterattacked instantly!"

"It was an emergency. Just bear with it for a bit. It’s only Shei who has to endure, right?"

"And why the hell should I?!"

‘Should I just grab him by the scruff of his neck and carry him? He won’t die from a little strangling anyway. Or maybe I should tie him to Jizan and carry him like luggage. That’d be way more convenient.’

She’s serious. This is bad. If I don’t stop her, she might actually end up carrying me like a skewer.

But letting go wasn’t an option either. Instead, Hughes threw a mental bone to distract her.

"Azzy. Doesn't something about her seem off to you?"

"What about her?"

"Talking to other animals is one thing. But being able to communicate so well that even the buffalo don’t fear her and run alongside her?"

Azzy was dashing alongside the buffalo, reveling in the freedom of the open plains. She raced ahead, only to loop back, running circles around them. Compared to this, all their previous walks had been nothing but warm-ups.

And yet, despite her presence, none of the buffalo panicked or tried to flee. They merely cast occasional glances at her before hurrying along.

"Now that you mention it... They aren’t wary of her at all. But dogs are naturally friendly with other animals, right? Maybe that’s why?"

"Azzy can be friendly, sure. But expecting the buffalo to be friendly with her in return is a different matter. Especially in such a large herd, at least one should have gotten spooked and bolted. Yet not a single one has. None are trying to charge at her, and none are running away."

"That’s... actually strange now that I think about it. To the buffalo, Azzy should be nothing but an unfamiliar beast."

"Exactly. Which leaves only one possibility—Azzy has gained the ability to suppress hostility. Even from other animals."

The regressor fell silent, lost in thought, entirely oblivious to the fact that Hughes was still clinging to her stomach.

"...The Grandiomor lineage?"

"Exactly. The power the Grandiomor lineage gained after overthrowing the human king—the ability to avoid hostility. Azzy’s transformation into some kind of beast king... it wouldn’t be surprising if she had developed such an ability."

"But why would she need it? At this point, the will of the beasts shouldn’t be that important."

"We won’t know until we hear from them. Not that they’d tell us anyway."

"If we ask properly, they will. The Holy Crown Church won’t want the King of Sin to emerge, after all."

‘The Holy Crown Church didn’t create the King of Sin. But they were definitely up to something. Why? ...Maybe this is a clue.’

Success. Distraction complete.

The regressor, now deep in thought, had something to mull over for the long, monotonous journey. She remained lost in her own musings—right up until she suddenly snapped back to reality, panicked, and hurled Hughes off before leaping down herself.

"Woof woof! See you next time!"

Azzy waved a paw as the buffalo herd continued onward, leaving them behind.

Even in the harsh wilderness, the journey had been smooth. They asked zebras for directions, deterred leopards with a simple glance, and even those who might have threatened their lives behaved like docile lambs in Azzy’s presence.

And when necessary, Azzy used force. When a pack of hungry lions wouldn’t stop following them, she bolted over, grabbed the male lion by the scruff, and dragged him away. The king of beasts, ruler of the wilds, could only stare in submission before slinking off into the distance.

Without baring fangs or shedding blood, they traveled through the savage lands in peace.

"Beasts aren’t particularly scary, but not having to kill them is nice. Lion packs are a hassle anyway."

"This feels like being a druid."

"Better than a druid. Druids communicate, but they still get attacked."

So they flew atop the Cloud Staircase, asked beasts for guidance, and followed the regressor’s lead across the Enger Plains.

Yet no matter how far they traveled, there was no sense of distance. No matter how fast they flew, there was no telling how far they had come. The land had a face, but to an outsider like Hughes, it all looked the same—rolling hills, endless plains. If life were an unending journey, then the Enger Plains were life itself—always seeing the same scenery, never knowing when the path would end.

And, as always, Hughes was full of complaints.

Balancing atop the clouds using martial arts was exhausting. His waist and legs ached. At first, he had been excited about riding on clouds, but now? Walking would have been more comfortable.

"Agh, this is exhausting. Ugh, I’m dying."

"Woof! Woof woof! Fun!"

That dog was still bounding around on all fours, tongue lolling out, having the time of her life.

"Ugh. I think I’ve walked an entire year’s worth of walks today. No more walks from now on."

"Woof? This isn’t a walk! This is work! Walks are a right!"

"Since when did walks become a right...? Haa. I just want to rest already. Shei, how much farther?"

The regressor scanned the terrain before answering.

"We’re almost there."

"Almost there? You said that yesterday too. Did you even know where you were leading us?"

"I know the way! I just can’t gauge the exact distance!"

"That’s the same thing. How can you know the way but not the distance?"

"It’s taking so long because I have to carry you around on the Cloud Staircase! If I hadn’t stopped to let you recover your strength, we’d already be there!"

"Oh, I don’t need to recover my strength, so just carry me on your back. The world is on the brink of destruction—there’s no time to be moving this slowly!"

"No."

‘If I carry him, he’s going to start touching me again. It’s annoying and uncomfortable. It makes me feel like he might figure out I’m a woman.’

Honestly, I doubt he’d even notice. When I grabbed him before, his stomach was so firm I thought I was holding onto a stone pillar.

"You should take this chance to train your martial arts! This is the perfect opportunity, so why are you just lazing around? If you only rely on shortcuts, you’ll hit your limits fast!"

"And do you know why I hit my limits so fast? It’s because I’ve already mastered everything short of what lies beyond those limits. If I didn’t have this limitation on my stamina, I’d be acting all high and mighty like you, Shei."

"When did I ever act high and mighty?!"

"Like right now. You have all those elixirs and heirlooms, but you act like you’re the strongest just because of your own skills. If I had the same opportunities, I’d be way stronger."

"You don’t know anything!"

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

‘Does he think I got this strong without effort? My power came from going through regressions over and over again!’

And that regression ability was given to you for free. That’s why I’m saying this.

"If you want to put it that way, then you were born different from the start! You’re the human king!"

"A king in exile. Hunted by the Holy Crown Church, rejected by the Saintess. Forced to hide, unable to reveal my identity. Oh, what a tragic fate. What sin did I commit to deserve this?"

"Woof! Behave better!"

"I’ve always behaved properly. I treated every human with sincerity. They were the ones who put their expectations on me and disappointed themselves."

He was rambling endlessly when the regressor’s eyes briefly turned navy blue—the sixth color of the Seven-Colored Eyes, Lan-Eye, the eye that sees far. She gazed at the distant hills, far beyond what my eyes could perceive, and murmured.

"The Blood Monastery. We’re here."

"Wow, really? You’re not lying this time?"

"Yeah. I swear. It’s right in front of us."

"Great! Then let’s stop wasting time and get there faster!"

Of course, that was another lie.

The Blood Monastery, seen through her Seven-Colored Eyes, was still a full day’s journey away.

"Meh—. Meh—."

A girl stood among a flock of sheep, grazing peacefully.

Compared to other beasts, humans had relatively little fur. But this girl seemed to have more fur than most animals. Her white, fluffy hair looked thick enough to make an entire wool coat with just one stroke of a comb. It was so dense and tangled that it cascaded down to her waist, as if she could roll down a hillside cushioned by her own hair.

Despite being among a flock of sheep, neither the sheep nor she paid much attention to each other. For creatures as timid as sheep, that was unusual.

But the curled horns atop the girl’s head provided an easy explanation.

"Oh?"

"The Apostle of the Lamb! Sister! The Apostle of the Lamb has come again!"

Children who had been out to milk the sheep came running, swarming around the girl with sheep horns. Just as their curious gazes were becoming overwhelming, a nun, her face hidden behind a black veil, approached and whispered softly.

"Lemme. You’ve come again. Do you need a brushing?"

The King of Sheep—Lemme. The king of lost and timid lambs.

Sheep, who live in low grassy fields, instinctively follow their flock. And they don’t particularly care if their leader isn’t one of their own kind. If a human with a stick leads them to a pasture enough times, they’ll eventually follow that furless, wise shepherd.

"Mehh—. Hurry up and brush meee."

"Just a moment."

Because of this, sheep held religious significance. In monasteries that raised sheep, the presence of the King of Sheep was a great honor. It meant their monastery was peaceful and safe enough for even the most timid of kings to visit.

Yet for the past few decades, no other monasteries had reported seeing the King of Sheep. Only the Blood Monastery consistently sent reports of sightings.

Some argued that the decline in beast populations in the northern civilized regions was to blame. But considering the millions of shepherds still raising sheep, that wasn’t a convincing reason. The civilization zone was, after all, where sheep were most commonly raised.

So why had no other monasteries seen the King of Sheep?

For the sake of rationality, some individuals, willing to risk opposing the Church, had presented a hypothesis.

The King of Sheep hadn’t appeared at other monasteries because the Blood Monastery was simply more peaceful and happy than the rest.

Setting aside the fact that the Blood Monastery was considered heretical and that supporting it meant questioning one’s faith, the explanation was fairly reasonable.

Someone might have to pay for the truth in blood, but for now, the Blood Monastery was living up to none of its name. It remained peaceful. The nun looked around at the children and spoke.

"Now, who will brush the Apostle of the Lamb?"

"Me! Me!"

"I want to do it!"

"You already sheared the sheep last time!"

The lively children chattered excitedly, each vying for the task. The nun smiled gently.

"Don’t fight, little lambs. A rushed and clumsy brushing will only trouble the sheep. Feel the wool, recall the sensation of previous brushings, and let your heart settle."

At her lullaby-like words, the children quieted down.

"If you approach with impatience and frustration, others will naturally keep their distance. Be grateful for what is given and approach with kindness."

The nun stepped forward and gently stroked Lemme’s wool.

"Sharing and giving only multiply what we have. The world belongs to the Celestial Gods. We must live each life with joy and gratitude. Now, let’s thank the beautiful and gentle Apostle of the Lamb."

"Apostle of the Lamb, thank you!"

"Fluffy one, thanks!"

Lemme, lying comfortably and receiving the brushing, was anything but grateful.

"Mehh...? Just hurry up and finish it, sheeple. I’ll be napping while you do it."

The King of Sheep had nothing to fear from a child’s brushing. Lemme simply lay back with a contented smile, basking in their care.

It was a peaceful, pastoral moment. A seemingly endless succession of tranquil days, as if nothing would ever change.

"Woof!"

Lemme’s ears perked up. She suddenly bolted upright, her hair still tangled with brushes. Trembling in fear, she cried out.

"Mehhh...! That sound!"

"Woof! Woof woof!"

"Wolf! A wolf is coming!"