Being able to laze around without worry—that was a good thing.
People always say that if you rest too long, you’ll eventually want to get back to work, but I don’t believe that at all.
It’s not that you want to work. It’s that you have to. Because you run out of money to put food in your mouth.
Anyone who’s been through elentary or middle school knows this. Just doing nothing during sumr break is its own kind of joy, isn’t it? Sa when I was in college. If I could coordinate my schedule so a class was canceled and I got to just lie in bed at ho, that alone made feel fulfilled—and ti flew by.
On the other hand, ti crawled when I was in class or doing part-ti work. Even during shifts, the minutes flew fastest during breaks, when no custors ca.
Don’t they say that in Europe, being a noble is a job in itself?
Living off real estate their ancestors bought centuries ago, having so much money they didn’t need jobs. If they did get a job, it was more for “experience” than necessity.
I know, of course. It’s not like those people literally do nothing.
But things like sports charity matches, public galas, or social gatherings—no one calls that “work.” That’s just a hobby.
So what I’m trying to say is: if you’re resting and suddenly feel like doing sothing different with your ti, then go ahead. Just do it for a bit. As long as you’re not on the verge of starving to death, there’s no need to feel guilty for doing nothing.
Not that I wasn’t getting bored.
I an, I was a griffon.
Most common human hobbies were off-limits. Reading? General sports? Sports I never really cared for, so that was fine. But reading? I couldn’t even read the language of this world. And I had no burning desire to devote myself to studying a foreign alphabet.
So, the greatest hobby I found in this world was:
Flying.
Literally soaring through the sky.
It wasn’t like I’d never flown on a plane before in my old world, but flying with my own wings was an entirely different experience.
Besides, planes weren’t sothing you could just hop on whenever you felt like it.
When I flew high into the sky with the sun overhead, the whole world below looked tiny. I loved the sound of the wind in my ears, the feeling of feathers fluttering.
...Saying it like that makes feel a little too much like a beast. But hey, I was one.
I wasn’t in a hurry to go back. This life was surprisingly freeing, and that alone was enough for .
Since I was here anyway, I figured I might as well stick around for a while, see how Sylvia and her friends were living—and then start looking for a way back.
Anyway, maybe because this world wasn’t fully developed yet, the Empire was full of wild animals. There were wolves, and bears in the forests.
Though honestly, those predators looked a little too “you’ll get food poisoning if you eat this” for to want to hunt them.
But among them, there were so that did look edible.
Cows and goats, peacefully grazing across the wide-open plains.
Looking around, I didn’t see any people or fences nearby.
Well, it made sense. With so many wild animals around, it wasn’t strange to see cows, sheep, or goats wandering in open fields.
It was a fantasy world, after all.
And right as I felt my stomach growl mid-flight, I dove straight down—and snatched up a cow.
*
Even in a fantasy world, weird things should still feel weird.
Co to think of it, the cows, sheep, and goats I’d seen all looked way too similar to the ones I rembered.
In other words, those animals looked “edible” even by human standards.
The reason there were no people or fences around must have been because the pastures were just too massive to manage efficiently.
Plus, there were so ranches that deliberately didn’t use fences—because if cows bumped into them and scratched their hides, it ruined the leather.
Exactly. Cows weren’t raised just for at.
They were also raised for leather.
Which ans... the cow I so happily hunted—
“Was soone else’s livestock. Raised mainly for its hide. And the owner? A famous leather workshop. They usually supply high-end steam train and carriage interiors. Apparently, they’ve been in serious talks about rging with one of the major steam train manufacturers.”
The crown princess who had co all the way out here to speak with said that.
This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.
“...I see.”
Standing beside Alice, Sylvia looked up at .
I avoided her gaze.
“Also, they’re requesting compensation for more than just the one dead cow. Sounds like your griffon didn’t succeed on the first try. So cows had long claw marks on their hides, others were wounded and died later.”
“...I see.”
Hmm.
So that’s how that turned out.
I had dropped one after ssing up the grip mid-lift.
It did make a loud thump, but I didn’t think it would die.
“They were pretty expensive cows, by the way. Bred for leather, and usually the ones with high-quality hides have good at too.”
“...I see.”
Sylvia kept staring up at .
She had the look of soone with a lot to say.
Look, I know I ssed up, okay?
Isn’t it obvious? My head, normally held high and proud, was now turned off to the side.
Not that I had any way to pay them back anyway.
“Let’s make one thing clear,” Alice [N O V E L I G H T] said, looking up at .
“We need to know whether that hunt was an instinctual reaction or if it was just hunger. If it’s just instinct, then even if we feed you, you might keep hunting and hurting citizens.”
At that, I turned my gaze toward Alice.
“...It understands us,” she said.
“I’m not sure how intelligent griffons are, but it seems it can at least understand human language.”
Well, obviously I can.
I don’t know what a real griffon’s intelligence is like, but I’m in here with a human brain.
“Would it respond if I spoke to it directly?”
Should I pretend I don’t understand?
If I wanted to stay here and not get kicked out, I had to communicate. But then, how exactly was I supposed to show that I understood them?
Maybe nodding or shaking my head?
...But that felt a little... I don’t know. La?
I know I’m not one to talk after what I said about griffon intelligence a minute ago, but still—I am a griffon right now.
From what I’ve heard, griffons are the Imperial symbol. I’d even seen a giant iron gate on the way to the palace with a massive griffon-emblazoned shield.
They said griffons were a confird mythical beast in this world, but almost no one had actually seen one.
So they were trying to treat with the respect due to a national symbol... but if I started nodding and shaking my head like so mascot, wouldn’t that ruin the whole vibe?
I raised my head high and stared down at Alice.
“...Does it understand? Is it trying to say ‘don’t give orders’?”
“I think it’s just posturing,” Sylvia replied.
Of course she saw right through . That’s what makes her a proper protagonist.
Sylvia took a step closer and spoke directly to .
“I don’t know exactly what you’re thinking, but I’m going to assu you understand what I’m saying.”
Compared to Alice, Sylvia wasn’t particularly tall. Not short either—probably about average height.
But even though she had to look up at , she didn’t seem small at all.
Honestly, if anyone deserved to be crown princess, it was Sylvia.
Still, she turned it down herself, so I guess that’s that.
“Staying here, and eating well while you do so—I understand that can’t be helped. But I ask that you don’t cause harm to others. What would it an for the symbol of the Empire to endanger its own people? You’ve helped us greatly, but for the sake of my na—the one who freed you—I hope you’ll protect our reputation.”
“...”
Sylvia didn’t look away. She held my gaze.
I looked at her for a long mont.
...Alright, fine.
There is a way to apologize while maintaining dignity.
I rose to my feet.
Then bowed my head politely.
“If it understands, then that’s enough,” Sylvia said.
She gave a small smile, then offered the sa elegant Imperial bow she had once shown before.
I was starting to get a feel for how to communicate.
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