Chapter 67 - Taming (2)

The creature known as the Soul Reaver—also affectionately called Reaver by one particular eccentric human—had recently seen its satisfaction with life plummet exponentially.

Life within the void region was, fundamentally, a succession of moments spent being utterly true to one's instincts. Everyone tried to eat everyone else, the weak died at the hands of the strong, and everyone accepted that as perfectly natural.

Those had been idyllic, harmonious days of devouring.

A world apart from where he was now. The place had possessed a vitality utterly unlike the civilization outside the void region, with its humans all putting on airs.

He couldn't quite remember how he had been dragged out of such a wonderful place, but one thing was certain: someone had put him on a leash.

Reaver snorted and looked down at the human sleeping peacefully against his forepaw. He was the first human Reaver had come into contact with after regaining his senses outside the void region.

Did the man have no sense of personal space, a broken sense of fear, or both?

Even the creatures inside the void region that had nothing left but instinct would normally flee in terror at the sight of him. Yet this human was positively overflowing with affection, as though settling down to sleep beside a beloved pet.

Considering the circumstances, Reaver understood that this human had helped him somehow. Otherwise, he would have rampaged mindlessly in his Berserk state until he eventually died somewhere.

Still, well.

—...

Reaver snorted and pulled away the forepaw the human was leaning against. The man's head flopped onto the floor, but he went right on snoring, entirely unbothered.

Being helped didn't oblige him to feel grateful. To a magical beast, every living thing other than itself was prey in the first place. Normally, simply coming this close would have been enough to turn the human into minced meat sliding down his gullet long ago.

But he couldn't do that.

Reaver huffed in displeasure. He knew in his mind that he wanted to do it, and he had both the ability and the means, but he simply couldn't translate that into action.

It felt as though someone had forcibly bound his mind to prevent such behavior. Obey this human's commands. Do not act violently. As though those compulsions had been implanted in him.

Earlier, he had even let the human onto his back as though he were some kind of mount. A truly horrific experience...

[...]

At last, Reaver yawned and lowered his head, his eyes drooping. It had been a long day, after all. Even a magical beast with his terrifying capabilities got tired.

An opportunity to be free would come someday. Until then, whatever this human did, he could simply let it go in one ear and out the other. This human was the only one he was forbidden to harm, anyway. As for the others, he could just kill and eat them whenever he got hungry.

That was what he had intended. Truly.

[...?]

Reaver blinked and looked around. Though a wolf could hardly compare to him in ferocity or presence, his face was closest to a wolf's—and even on that face, his bewilderment was immediately obvious.

A pitch-black space. His body was floating within it.

He didn't know where he was, but at first glance he could feel it in his skin: this was an alien space, not the real world.

"First time experiencing something like this?"

At the voice beside him, Reaver turned his head. There was the man who had fallen asleep against his forepaw, likewise floating in midair. Had he said his name was Aiden?

"This place is called the Mindscape."

[... Let me out. Before I mince you.]

Reaver growled, instinctively realizing that this human had brought him here. The man, however, was surprised by something else entirely.

"You could talk?"

[I merely refrained because there was no need. Conversing with a mere human is itself a waste of time.]

"Everything you do has this weird, pompous air to it. You're a magical beast. What are you, some sort of aristocrat?"

[I have no such sense of privilege.]

Reaver snorted and continued.

[Though an inferior creature like you wouldn't understand.]

"..."

Oh, really.

"Well, I guess I don't need to feel too guilty about this."

[... What?]

"Oh, nothing."

Aiden yawned and swept back his hair.

"I did risk my life to save you, you know. But you haven't shown the slightest gratitude."

[...]

"So I figured you could use some lessons in manners."

[...]

"The rules are simple. Promise to listen to what I say within reason, and drop that obnoxious attitude. Then I'll treat you with courtesy and respect, too."

[And if I refuse?]

"Then we take this all the way, I guess."

The corners of Reaver's mouth twisted grotesquely.

[... So? You're going to torture me?]

"No. Training."

[...?]

Reaver looked at him as though asking what on earth he meant, but Aiden was quite serious.

Training was training. Certainly.

Even if it was sometimes hard to distinguish from torture.

"What, why are you late again tod—what's this?"

At those words, Reaver and Aiden settled down out of the air simultaneously. It was as though that single remark had suddenly created gravity where none had existed.

[... What are you doing n—]

He was about to say that, but his mouth snapped shut the moment he saw the newly arrived human looking him up and down.

Magical beasts fundamentally lived lives of constant violence and mortal combat. That meant gauging the gulf between themselves and their opponents was practically instinct.

"A magical beast? You're keeping these things now?"

And this human...

...was a monster who could grind the likes of Reaver to pieces a hundred times over with his eyes closed. That was how vast the gulf felt.

As Reaver's eyes darted about under a pressure he had never felt even from the other top-tier magical beasts of the void region, Aiden continued nonchalantly.

"He's a test subject, senior."

"A test subject?"

[...]

Reaver didn't know what that meant, but it definitely didn't sound positive. The back of his neck began to grow damp.

"You've been complaining all this time, haven't you? That there are all sorts of techniques and combinations you'd like to test, but I'm too fragile for you to use them."

At that, Meyer looked Reaver up and down with interest.

"Is he tough?"

"Very. One of the people most renowned for sheer offensive power in our generation hit him without leaving a scratch."

The back of Reaver's neck grew damp even faster. Meyer, meanwhile, was rubbing his hands together with a delighted grin.

"There's going to be so much to study!"

And there truly was.

▣

[... Stop, stop!]

The surrender actually came much sooner than Aiden had expected. Specifically, Meyer was in the middle of testing the thirteenth technique he hadn't dared use on Aiden.

It was so unexpected that Aiden's eyes widened as he watched from the sidelines, taking notes on various improvements and applications.

"Huh? What? Already?"

[...]

Already?

Already, he said?

By now, this natural disaster in human form called Meyer had torn Reaver apart no fewer than several dozen times. Apparently, the very concept of death didn't exist within this Mindscape. He would die, revive almost immediately, then be beaten again, die, be beaten, die...

But Aiden truly was disappointed.

-System Message

▶ The effect of 'Skill: Analysis' activates.

▶ The target's combat technique level is extraordinarily high.

▶ These techniques are extraordinarily useful. You cannot copy them outright, but your proficiency in existing Combat Styles skills increases!

Until now, Aiden hadn't even been able to properly take Meyer's techniques, so he had rarely had a chance to develop his practical combat skills—his Combat Styles—this way.

Reaver, however, could clearly endure far more than he could, and those gains had been piling up at a terrifying rate. And now he was saying he couldn't take any more. What a shame.

[... I surrender. I'll do what you want. Just, just stop now...]

Still, it would be too much to demand that Reaver keep fighting when he was on the verge of losing his mind.

Even a magical beast couldn't easily endure the sensation of death. In fact, his entire body now flinched at the mere sight of Meyer moving. It would have been stranger to retain the will to fight after watching a human kill him dozens of times without a care.

"Magical beasts these days have no grit. He hasn't died that many times, has he?"

"Exactly. Only about fifty, I think. Don't I die at least a hundred times a day?"

"... Oh, really? He's died that much already? I wasn't even counting."

"... If you suddenly back away like that, you're making me look like the weird one."

"No, you are weird. Fighting someone like you every day must have done something to my head, too. These days, when someone dies, I just expect them to get back up and come at me again..."

"..."

While Aiden frowned and glared at Meyer, Reaver groaned hollowly.

[... You've been fighting this monster every night?]

"Uh, yeah? Why?"

[How are you still sane? You do this hundreds of times a day, every single day...?]

Instead, Aiden tilted his head at the question.

Well, really. Considering he was guaranteed to bite the dust during the main story unless he grew stronger by any means necessary, that perspective was almost refreshing.

If he didn't do it, the world would end—and everyone he wanted to protect would die along with it. In other words, however many times he died, Aiden considered this something he had to do. Which meant...

"If you have to do it, don't you just do it?"

[...]

"Doesn't it actually feel kind of healthy? The more you do it, the better you get, and you improve with every passing day. You've got to be proactive in life."

[...]

Watching Aiden say that so casually, Reaver could muster only one impression.

'Lunatic.'

A clear-eyed lunatic, at that.

No one could reach such a conclusion unless there was something wrong with their head...

"Well, it can't be helped. Rest over there. My senior and I will spar from here on."

[...]

As soon as he heard that, Reaver collapsed where he stood, panting. All the tension filling his body had released at once.

Of course, the next words sent a chill down his spine.

"Get plenty of rest so you can come back tomorrow."

[... What?]

"There'll be plenty of times when you and I have to coordinate in a fight. We can't have any accidents then, can we? Wouldn't it be better to train together beforehand?"

Reaver's mouth opened and closed. He looked as though he wanted to say something but couldn't get the words out.

He would be doing this shit every day from now on, too?

"Of course, the 'intensity' of the training will depend on how well you behave."

[...]

"Understood?"

[...]

... You devilish bastard.

A look conveying precisely that shot toward Aiden.