Volume 6 Chapter 1 Signs of Rot
Edited by: Kanaa-senpai
The air was dry, carrying a parched heat that seemed to strip the moisture from the skin as it radiated from the white-hot iron. Deep within the workshop, where the steady ringing of hammers usually filled the day, Melis suddenly froze. Sweat ran from her forehead to her chin unnoticed as her gaze locked onto the northern horizon beyond the thick stone walls and the dark forest beyond them.
Her altered sight pierced what ordinary elves could never see, revealing both the currents of magic flowing through the atmosphere and the infrared glow cast by living things. Ever since her body had been reshaped by the influence of Ryuichi’s essence and the saturation of his bodily fluids, her eyes perceived the world differently. What she saw now was a jarring absence, an unnatural void where warmth should have existed.
”…Something is wrong,” Melis whispered, her voice tight with an unfamiliar chill.
Her soot-stained fingers clenched around her apron. Every living creature should have appeared as a bright pulse of red centered around a beating heart, yet what she saw was a gap in the world itself.
What approached resembled a thick mass of yellow-ochre mud, damp and sluggish as it moved through the forest. Wherever it passed, it devoured the life-red glow of the trees one by one. The moment it touched them, their vibrant color dulled into muddy gray before disappearing entirely, making it seem as though a vast mouth had opened in the world and was slowly crawling toward them while swallowing every trace of warmth in its path.
”Melis, what’s wrong?” her husband called, alarm sharpening his voice.
His words barely registered. A shiver raced up her spine as though someone had poured cold, contaminated sludge down her back. That thing was not alive. It produced no heat of its own. It was a void that consumed heat completely.
”It’s not alive… it’s dead mass, and it’s flowing toward us,” she replied, unable to keep the tremor from her voice.
The circular table at the center of the room sat beneath a heavy silence, while a sharp acidic stench hung in the air and stung the back of the nose. It smelled of rotten eggs mixed with boiled iron and decay, the sort of scent that triggered instinctive revulsion before thought could catch up.
The young scout brought back by Captain Farrell shook violently on the stretcher, his teeth rattling uncontrollably. The leather armor covering his left shoulder had lost any resemblance to its original shape.
Hiss… Sizzle…1
The wet sound of dissolving flesh echoed through the room. Yellow, murky foam bubbled from the wound, eating through leather, skin, and muscle alike until everything blurred into a thick, melting slurry. Bone protruded from the ruin of his shoulder, and even that had begun to blacken as thin strands of white smoke curled upward.
”Re… report… North Valley… along the ravine… it’s there,” the scout stammered through clenched teeth.
His trembling hand pointed into empty space. Even the tip of his finger had been eaten away by droplets of the dissolving substance, exposing raw flesh to a constant, agonizing burn.
”The soil… it was dead. Everywhere it passed, even the rocks were melting…”
After hearing the report, Elder Erland felt the color drain from her lips. Fighting back a wave of nausea, she adjusted her spectacles with trembling fingers.
”Could it be… the Rot Dragon from the legends?” she asked, barely above a whisper.
The moment the name left her mouth, the veteran elves around the table drew sharp breaths. Erland reached into the darkest records preserved across her three centuries of study.
”It is a walking calamity that erased a northern kingdom from the map in a single night,” Erland said, forcing her voice into calm analysis. “Its bodily fluids are a deadly poison capable of oxidizing and disintegrating nearly any material. It consumes magical barriers within seconds, and if wounded, it simply releases more toxin and regenerates from the damage.”
Her eyes lowered to the scout’s ruined shoulder. In her mind she could already see the future awaiting them, one where that same corruption spread across the entire village. Given their current defenses and limited number of magic users, the odds of survival were almost nonexistent.
”…There is nowhere to run,” she concluded, resignation weighing down every word. “We can only wait here and rot.”
Despair settled over the room like lead. No one spoke. The only sounds were rough breaths and the quiet anticipation of annihilation.
Clink.
A hard, clear sound cut through the silence.
Seated upon the highest chair at the head of the table, Ryuichi calmly set down his wine glass.
”…Hmph.”
The scoff carried such blatant arrogance that it seemed to mock the fear filling the room.
”The only drawback is that it smells far too foul to be useful as fertilizer.”
He spoke as though discussing nothing more threatening than weeds growing in a garden. Erland’s eyes widened.
”M-My King…! The opponent is a legendary monster! Our magic won’t—”
”Silence, Erland.”
The command carried no hesitation and no doubt. Mana woven into his words pressed down upon the room, closing around their hearts like an invisible hand and forcing every gaze toward him. A chill swept through everyone present as instinct pushed them toward absolute submission.
”Who gave you permission to despair? This is my garden. Why fear a single pest that has crawled into it?”
He lifted his glass and let his jet-black eyes sweep across the gathered elves. Wherever that gaze lingered, a spark of heat stirred within those who had been frozen by terror. Memories of pleasure, domination, and absolute control resurfaced with painful clarity. The spiritual seals engraved deep within their uteri pulsed in response to their master’s voice, forcibly smothering their fear of death beneath a feverish devotion that bordered on arousal.
”Everyone, arm yourselves. A disaster? Don’t make me laugh.”
Ryuichi’s gaze settled on Farrell, then Erland, and finally Melis waiting near the edge of the room.
”Do you truly believe that the spiritual power I have poured into your uteri night after night for months is inferior to a mere lizard?”
His tone remained as cold and detached as that of a commander issuing battlefield orders.
”I will not permit any of you to be harmed without my permission. …Prove that the elves who have received my blessing are the strongest shield in this world.”
The atmosphere shifted in an instant.
Fear gave way to overwhelming confidence. Farrell remembered the crushing pressure Ryuichi had once used to grind his pride as a warrior into dust, yet now that same force felt dependable, as though it were pushing him forward instead of crushing him.
Click.
The sound of a sword hilt being gripped echoed through the room.
The terror vanished from behind Erland’s glasses, replaced by a dangerous gleam of resolve.
”…As you command,” Erland said, devotion coloring every word. “We shall cleanse the King’s garden.”
The Rot Dragon no longer inspired fear.
Instead, they saw only the promise of a punishment sweeter and more terrifying than death should they fail their master, and the fierce joy that came from accepting it.
—
Summary:
Melis detects a magical anomaly in the forest that consumes heat and life, which the scout confirms is the legendary Rot Dragon. The elven leaders fall into despair, believing they are doomed by this unstoppable pestilence. Ryuichi crushes their fear with overwhelming presence and reminds them of his influence over their bodies and spirits, inciting a shift from terror to fanatical loyalty.
—
Trivia:
Ryuichi’s physical presence and mana density function as a form of psychological conditioning.
The elven fear is being forcibly overwritten by their physiological dependence on Ryuichi’s spiritual power.
The Rot Dragon is described as an entity that consumes warmth rather than just being a physical predator.
The elf characters’ loyalty is not traditional heroism, but a mix of fear of punishment and obsessive devotion.
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Translation Notes:
Notes:
• Melis – Wife of dwarf artisan Kulum, this voluptuous, 160 cm tall female elf has blonde hair in a high ponytail and a seductive aura. Infatuated with Ryuichi, her retinas were altered by his essence. Wearing a low-cut tunic under a grease-and-soot-stained leather apron, she serves as a vigilant guard, scout, and observer, using highly acute senses and altered sight to track heat signatures.
• Ryuichi – The analytical, 40-year-old Spirit King of the Grimm mansion and elf village possesses a plain build, silver hair, a beard, and jet-black eyes. An antagonist with Japanese past-life memories, he rules subjects with absolute authority using powerful mana and space magic to influence their minds and bodies. His past strength drew Helga to be his slave; his current absence now catalyzes intimacy between Nier and Helga.
• Ryu – A man with Interdimensional Magic who leads a growing household. He acts as a provider and protector for his slaves, while maintaining a pragmatic and blunt personality.
• Farrell – A captain and member of the guard. He was previously broken in spirit by Ryuichi. The captain of the Elf garrison who commands his troops with sharp, procedural authority.
• Erland – A 320-year-old elven village Elder, leader, and guide to the new Spirit King. She is a “living grimoire” with sharp features, silver-rimmed spectacles, and lustrous lips. Holding high status and immense knowledge of the World Tree, she shifts from analytical detachment to deep devotion toward her deity, maintaining authority while struggling with the King’s intimate and demanding commands.
• Man – A roughneck wearing a hat who participated in a group assault. He suffers the loss of his right arm and later his left arm during an experiment by the protagonist before being stored.
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Edited by Kanaa-senpai.
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