Chapter 16 : Even a lizard is still a snake

Kkweeeeek!

A lizardman shrieked, clawing at the blade piercing its abdomen. Its scream was more a serpent’s hiss than a human cry—rough, sharp, like nails raking a chalkboard.

The lady knight who’d thrust her sword recoiled instinctively, freezing mid-motion. She was still green. The monsters’ screams, the grim dance of life and death, the feel of cleaving bone and muscle—it was all alien to her.

Natural, really. She was a fresh recruit of the Red Rose Knights.

“Hmph!”

Yet she pressed on, fueled by raw talent. Twisting the blade, she ripped through the lizardman’s side. Simultaneously, she spun, slamming her back into another lizardman lunging with a spear. Her armor deflected the thrust, and the attacker coughed out a gust of air.

Her sword arced in a half-circle, slicing through the air and severing his elongated neck.

“Hoo, hoo.”

The lady knight steadied her breathing. She couldn’t waste the fleeting respite she’d carved out—too many enemies remained.

A liquid—her blood, their blood, or just monster ichor—trickled into her eyes. The world blurred, stinging, but she could still make out her foes. And that only deepened her dread.

They were legion. She’d felled over ten—maybe twenty? She’d lost count.

“This is… the Great Forest.”

The cradle of monsters, the maw of calamity. Its infamy, once mere rumor, now loomed as stark reality.

She should’ve heeded the advice to pair up. Who could’ve foreseen stumbling into such a horde? Bad luck, sure—but blaming fate left no room to fault herself.

Her fellow recruits, who’d endured the initiation with her, were likely safely beyond the forest by now. Had she followed orders, she’d be with them. Instead, she’d ventured deeper—a choice she’d made alone, bearing its consequences.

…Even if it stemmed from good intentions.

She’d spotted a bloodied, aimless group trudging into the forest’s heart. Duty as a knight—to shield the weak—drove her to follow. Then she’d lost her way.

This mess was the bitter fruit of forgetting her limits.

“It’s okay. I can fix this. Hoo, I can.”

She muttered aloud, steeling herself.

The lizardmen circled warily, keeping their distance. They’d pegged her as easy prey, only to suffer losses, and now hesitated. She’d thought them mindless brutes, charging headlong into foes—but they had some cunning.

Retreat slowly.

They seemed loath to lose more. If she forced a desperate break, they might pursue briefly before giving up. If she traced her memorized path out of the Great Forest…!

Kwaang!

“…!”

She couldn’t even scream. Her body flew like a kicked ball, tumbling across the ground. Each bounce squeezed the air from her lungs. Only a massive boulder halted her, her frame crashing against it.

Pain seared her body; her limbs went numb. That she lived was a miracle. Had she not instinctively swung her sword to shield herself, she’d be a shattered corpse.

Focusing her gaze, she stared at what had struck her.

A monster loomed, unyielding. Clad in full plate armor, it could’ve passed for a knight—if not for the forked tongue flicking from its helm and the heavy tail swaying behind.

“Leader… the head…”

Not all monsters were equal. Just as Great Forest beasts outclassed outsiders, strength varied within their ranks. Leaders were the pinnacle—rare, but not implausible here. This was the Great Forest.

“Heeu, heeu.”

The lady knight lashed her numb limbs into motion, somehow rising. Admirable willpower. Futile effort.

Her sword was broken. Even mustering all her strength, she could barely twitch a finger.

The leader’s tongue vibrated—a taunting laugh felt on her skin rather than heard. He approached slowly, cautious even with a near-dead foe. Was this truly a monster?

She held his gaze to the end—a knight’s resolve to die standing. His shadow swallowed her.

This was it.

Her eyes drifted shut.

“…Human! It’s a person!”

Kiahhhh!

Just before darkness claimed her, she glimpsed a girl—and the leader thrashing as his tail was ripped away.

A dying hallucination, surely.

The lady knight slipped into unconsciousness.

Lena, yielding to curiosity, had sprinted ahead of the orc tribe’s main force. Another group was brazenly adding to the noise pollution!

I’ll memorize their names and punish them!

But the scene she found defied her expectations.

Wow! Finally! At long last! People! It’s a person!

Lena buzzed with excitement. How many years had passed since she’d fallen into this fantasy world? She hadn’t counted, but the wait had been torturous. She’d even wondered if humans existed here—no traces, just beasts everywhere. A fair suspicion.

Today, after endless patience, marked a historic milestone: she’d met a human.

Pity they couldn’t chat peacefully—missing an arm, bleeding profusely, teetering on death’s edge. Nor had she found a rescue team—just a lone soul. Still, a person! Proof human civilization thrived somewhere in this world. That mattered to Lena.

[Discovered an ally to accompany you on the ‘Turmoil of the Great Forest’ quest!]
[The ally is in critical condition due to delayed discovery!]
[Don’t forget: this ally will greatly aid quest completion!]

Yeah, yeah, Status Window. I found a person.

When would it stop being so outdated? No matter—why sour a happy day? She’d set aside gripes and savor the celebration.

Shh! Shhh! Shhh!

“Hey, can’t you be quiet?”

Lena snapped, irritated. It was basic courtesy to hush when someone basked in sentiment—like not attacking during a sentai transformation. Shameful ignorance of manners.

The silver-scaled leader wanted to thrash and vent his agony, but he couldn’t spare the thought. His tail was gone—not cleanly severed, but brutally torn, exposing raw muscle, bone, and blood vessels beneath jagged flesh. Pain unlike any he’d known wracked him. Even as a monster far tougher than humans, he screamed involuntarily.

Lena didn’t get it.

“You’re so dramatic. Lizards regrow tails, you know. Don’t you understand your own body?”

Whether a lizard shed its tail or lost it to force, it’d grow back—basic science. But regrowth after such a savage rip? Absurd.

Veins bulged in the lizardman chieftain’s eyes—pain and rage entwined. He slammed his staff into the ground: a charge signal.

True, they’d been caught off guard, but she was one foe, burdened by a dying human—likely one of their own kind. The fallen lady knight had rare talent, yet even she couldn’t defy numbers. With that handicap, did this girl think she could win?

The lizardman chieftain’s logic crumbled swiftly.

Ripping. Tearing.

Lizardmen fell like scarecrows—skin shredded, blood sprayed, silver scales fluttering like snowflakes.

The lady knight’s fight had been formal, methodical—hesitant to face more than two at once, whittling them down. Lena was chaos incarnate. Here one moment, there the next, wielding arms, legs, nails, even her head as weapons. They’d spot an opening, only to be countered. Her movements out-beasted the beasts.

They lunged for the lady knight, but Lena thwarted that too—unapproachable, untouchable.

As the lizardmen dropped helplessly, Lena stayed relaxed. Numerous, sure, but not even a post-meal workout. Her body moved on autopilot, shredding them in an automatic hunt mode, leaving her mind free to wander.

Lizard, lizard, lizard.
‘Snake’ in the name—can I call it a snake?
Snake, snake—snake meat’s good for stamina.

She paused mid-skull-crush, mouth gaping wide.

Quajik!

…!

The lizardmen froze in horror.

Why the shock? Lena chewed the lizardman meat, tilting her head.

What was hunting’s primal purpose? To eat. Calling it a “fun hobby” was noble nonsense. Death to the bourgeoisie.

Predators devoured prey—nature’s law. The fight wasn’t over? Did she need a scorecard? It was already won. As victor, no one could protest her claiming spoils early.

Or so she thought.

The sight stunned even monsters—less cruel than bizarre. A human acting more beastly than beasts, a predator in human skin. Cognitive dissonance was inevitable.