As I yawn—despite not really having a body to yawn with—I drift back toward my core. A heavy exhaustion settles over me. Not just normal tiredness… something deeper.
I'm tired… really tired.
It feels like all my mana is just… gone.
I turn back around and float toward my core, the exhaustion pulling at my thoughts like a heavy tide. I don't even notice my floating, transparent body slowly fading as I drift closer.
The moment I reach the core, the tiredness finally wins.
As I fall asleep, I feel… or maybe hear… something.
A few words echo through my mind—a cold, distant murmur that lingers just long enough for me to understand it.
"Species Noctherin created. Lesser Noctherin spawner created. Dear dungeon, you have named your specialised species… I wish you luck in this world."
The voice fades as quickly as it appeared, leaving only silence behind.
As I wake up, I immediately notice something is different. I'm no longer just a floating body—I am the core itself now.
I can feel everything within my domain. Every small shift in the cave, every faint trace of mana. At the same time, I can somehow see it all as well, as if the cave itself has become my eyes.
It's strange… really strange.
My domain seems to cover the entire cave, and just a small part outside of it—the edge of a forest near the entrance. I can sense the trees there, the brush, the faint movements of small creatures wandering close to the cave mouth, but only barely. It feels like the very border of what I can perceive.
The odd connection I felt with Fowler before seems stronger now, clearer—like a steady thread tying the two of us together.
But despite all of that, one thought pushes to the front of my mind.
I want my body back.
I try to recreate it, focusing the same way I did before, willing that transparent form to appear again—but no matter how much I try, nothing happens.
I can't remake it. No matter how hard I try, it just won't work.
Suddenly, a screen—??? A system?—appears in front of my vision. Floating text spreads across it:
"Warning. Warning. Intruder entering territory. Warning. Warning."
Oh… that's not good.
I turn my attention toward where I feel the intruder, focusing on the edge of my domain near the forest.
It's a… squirrel???
Is it because it's not naturally a part of me? I wonder, watching the small creature move along the border of my territory.
As I watch it, I notice something strange—no, I feel something strange.
Is that Fowler?
Wait… no. That's not him.
It looks like him—almost like an older version of him—but the connection isn't the same. The bond I feel with Fowler isn't there.
I focus on it more carefully.
Or… her?
Wait. I thought there were only males.
Its structure is nearly identical to Fowler's—her build and features resemble what Fowler looked like before his transformation—, but there are a few small differences. Subtle ones, yet noticeable enough to make it clear this isn't the same as him.
Wait, is this what a what was it that voice said, a lesser Noctherin?
As I think that, the Noctherin picks up a rock and throws it at the squirrel. It misses, striking the tree behind it. The squirrel jumps in surprise and scrambles straight up the very tree the female Noctherin hit.
Once the squirrel reaches a branch, it turns and taunts the female Noctherin. She growls in frustration, grabbing another rock. Using her flexible, elastic—though still somewhat awkward—arm, she slings the rock much faster than before. This time, the throw is driven by anger rather than simple hunting.
Before the squirrel can react, the stone strikes it.
The impact kills it instantly, the sheer force behind the throw surprising me.
As the squirrel dies, I notice something else—a thin line of mana. Right… that's mana. I watch as it flows from the now-dead squirrel into the female Noctherin. When the flow finishes, the squirrel's body slowly dissipates.
A moment later, I feel the remaining mana from the body travel deeper into my domain… and into my core.
Before I turn my attention away from the small Noctherin, I notice a bit of faint text hovering above her.
Throwing skill learned — Level 1.
The text is a light brownish colour. She doesn't seem to notice it as she begins wandering along the border of my territory.
Why is it brown? Ah, well… I'll leave her be. I need to come up with a good name, after all.
As I think that, the concept of receiving a name seems to shoot through the connection to the female Noctherin. She suddenly straightens, as if she felt the thought pass through her.
I really need to get used to holding things back.
I redirect my attention toward Fowler as he returns. I notice the rusty sword he's dragging behind him—it's worn, stained from blood and time's erosion. Clearly old. Whoever owned it is most likely dead… along with whatever he killed with it.
"Hey, Fowler, where did you get that sword?"
I try to say, but it seems that now that I've fully become the core, I've lost the ability to speak out loud.
Still, Fowler understands what I'm trying to ask. He walks toward my core with the calm, fluid grace of a night hunter and the—
…Wait.
I pause.
I'm sorry, but why does Fowler look like a calm butler with the way he acts and walks? I just noticed this. How did I just notice this? I need to make him a suit.
As he enters the cave, he places the sword carefully on the ground in front of me before bowing—properly, like a butler.
I know for a fact he didn't act like that when he first gained this form…
Before I can question it further, his smoother, calmer voice breaks the silence.
"My master, I found this blade in what appears to be an old battleground not far from here. There are a few more bodies, but the rest of the armor and weapons have long since been overgrown by foliage and trees."
I live next to a battleground? I did not expect that…Wait… an old battleground…
Before I can ask more, Fowler speaks again.
"Master, as for my new mannerisms… it is a concept I took from you. I learned it as you thought of it, and I found that I liked it, my master. So I decided to become a butler."
Wait… what?