Editing/Standardisation: kubor04
Formatting/Extras: APM
Original Translation: Blastron
Additional thanks goes out to mae and Legit-rikk. Join our discord
Spread across my lap is a picture book. In it are amazingly realistic pictures of strange and fantastic creatures, the likes of which were never seen on Earth. It seems that, in this world, monsters are real.
“This is a goblin! Goblins are monsters that have green skin, and they’re about as large as a human child. They look kind of like a human, but they’re not very smart at all. They don’t have very many skills, and their stats are very low. You shouldn’t take them lightly, though! When it levels up and learns a few skills, one can pick up a weapon and be quite dangerous if you don’t expect it.”
Anna, my nanny, is sitting next to me, describing the monsters in the book out loud for me. Anna looks like she’s in her twenties, but in reality she’s nearly twice that age. Apparently, she used to be a magician who fought against the monsters, and now she’s explaining to me the things that the picture book leaves out.
On my other side, my little sister Sue is imitating me by staring at the book. Recently, she’s taken to copying me a lot. Unlike me, though, she can’t yet speak very well, and I don’t think she can understand Anna’s words very well. I’m paying very close attention to what Anna is saying, though. One of us should, at least.
I pat my adorable sister on the head, ruffling her light-blue hair. It feels smooth to the touch. Sue looks quite pleased, and lets out a happy giggle.
Anna and Klevea, our other servant who’s standing by the door, look at us smilingly. I used to think that the attention was a little bit embarrassing, but I’m pretty used to it by now.
“My prince, you and the princess seem quite close,” says Anna. “Yeh!” exclaims Sue. “Yes!” I say, almost simultaneously. Anna’s smile grows broader. It looks like I’m getting pretty good at playing the part of an adorable toddler.
I go back to looking at the picture book. Anna doesn’t know it yet, but I’ve already learned to read this country’s language, so I’ve been reading the descriptions of each monster while pretending to enjoy looking at the pictures. This really is a picture book, though, so the illustrations fill each page with only a small amount of space left over for a short description. I’m glad that Anna is explaining things more clearly.
The more I listen to Anna talk, though, the more I realize how fucking crazy this world is. These people are seriously talking, with a straight face, about skills, stats, and levels. These are video game terms!
This world seems to be very much like a game. Well, I’m living in it, so I don’t really think of it as a game itself, but that doesn’t change the fact that it’s full of all of these game-like systems.
Skills seem to be pre-defined abilities, drawn out of your soul once you’ve had enough practice. Stats are discrete measures of our raw abilities. Levels seem to be a numerical representation of the power you amass as you go through life.
This was all explained to me, but from a gamer’s perspective, these are some extremely flimsy explanations. Everyone seems to take them at face value, not even bothering to ask why things are this way. I’m really not comfortable with this, but I don’t have much of a choice but to play along.
I turn the page on my book, revealing a picture of an enormous wolf. To show how large it is, there’s a person lying at its feet. I thought for a moment that the scale had been exaggerated, but Anna’s explanation proved otherwise.
“This is called a Fenrir. It’s a Mythic-ranked monster, said to be as large as a mountain and capable of destroying a fortress with one bite. I’m lucky to have never seen one myself.”
This certainly seems to be true. This giant wolf is far too big to be called a monster, though. It’s an Abonimation. How can the world be this unbelievable, allowing such an enormous creature to exist? How does it keep up its enormous bulk?
“Umm, how does this stand up?” I ask. Anna stares at me blankly. Perhaps I need to clarify. “It’s so big, isn’t it heavy?”
Comprehension flashes across Anna’s face. “Ah,” she says, “it might be better for me to show you than to tell you. Klevea?”
Klevea comes closer. Like Anna, Klevea used to serve this country as a knight, and is now working as both a nanny and a bodyguard. Unlike Anna the magician, whose frame is very slender, Klevea has a powerful, almost masculine body that she built through years of training.
Anna and Klevea quietly discuss something, then take up positions a few paces from each other. Klevea extends an open hand out towards Anna.
“Here it comes. [Fireball],” chants Anna, casting a spell at Klevea.
[Fireball] is a low rank fire spell that, exactly as its name implies, creates a small ball of fire and launches it at your opponent. The flaming sphere, which was cast with low power, streaks forward and hits Klevea in her outstretched hand. Sue stiffens in surprise. I was a little surprised as well, suddenly seeing magic for the first time.
Anna and Klevea exchange smirks over our reaction, like they’d just pulled off a successful prank. I feel a little offended.
“Your hand… hurt?” asks Sue, looking at Klevea’s hand.
“Only a little bit, Princess. It was very hot for a moment, but it’s fine now!” says Klevea, in a powerful voice that’s unusually deep for a woman. “As you have just seen, if your stats are high, you can become quite strong. That’s how such large monsters can move without being crushed by their own weight.”
I’m curious, so I reach out to feel the palm of Klevea’s hand. Her hands are tough and calloused, as expected of someone who fights with a sword. But it’s still ordinary skin. It’s nowhere near tough enough to be able to take a fireball head-on without even getting singed.
“My prince, when you raise your defensive attributes, your skin does not necessarily become tough,” says Klevea. “Really?” I ask. “Yes, my prince. High defense does not make your body physically tougher, it makes you harder to injure. While I’m nowhere near this powerful myself, I’ve heard that the Heroes of previous generations could withstand direct sword blows without taking a scratch,” says Klevea, answering my question politely.
However, to become hard to hurt like that, wouldn’t the intercellular binding forces have to be somehow increased? Well, in this fantastical world, trying to reconcile things I see with my knowledge from Earth is a waste of my time. For now, I’ll set aside these troubled thoughts.
APM - Translation 