Though his body had recovered, there were still too many things missing.

Even if he had survived, his current status was that of a condemned man.

If he left Belphirn like this, he would be nothing more than a fugitive – so he needed to find a way to stay hidden and an escape route of his own.

Ethan stared silently at the campfire, his mind racing.

All his belongings had been stolen, so he had to make a fire with sticks, without even a flint – but it burned brightly.

Crackling. Crackling.

As Ethan sat deep in thought,

If sat curled up, staring at the flickering heat above the fire.

A spark flew.

The flames swayed wildly, devouring the dry branches.

Smoke, mixed with soot and carbon monoxide, rose into the air – creating noxious substances for no good reason.

Watching people set fires that produced nothing but carcinogens was something she still couldn’t quite understand.

Her eyes drifted slowly to Ethan’s side.

The camp, which had been empty at first, was now filled – bit by bit Ethan had scavenged from the pile of corpses in the forest and now his backpack was full.

He had gathered clothes, a map, blankets.

As if sitting quietly, lost in thought, her head tilted again.

Ethan’s face frowned as he saw the small head leaning away from her chest.

Because every time she did that…

“Ethan.”

Of course. Ethan let out a deep sigh.

“…What now?”

“You said I was disrespectful to the dead, remember? But all this,” she gestured, “was taken from corpses too. So how is what you did any different from what I did?”

To the dead, possessions meant nothing. It was far more efficient for the living to take what they needed.

Both If and Ethan had done the same thing – and yet it was different.

“I buried them.”

Most criminals, unless they were truly monstrous, were publicly beheaded in the centre of the capital square, their heads displayed on pikes as a warning.

Only after their heads had rotted and decayed would they finally fall to the ground.

Belphirn was a place of execution.

For nobles or royalty who could not be publicly executed, or for those who were considered so low that no one wanted to stain their hands with their blood.

Ethan was undoubtedly the latter.

A lowborn who had killed a noble and become a fugitive – and then dared to claim the title of “King”, insulting the royal family.

Whatever his own circumstances, most of the people who died here were either innocent or petty criminals, executed simply because of their status.

The occasional messenger or messenger boy was brought in as a sacrifice to the beasts, but these were few and far between – most people managed to escape before reaching the deeper parts.

A small dagger and a handful of cheap camping supplies – the so-called “mercy” given to those sent here.

Even then, there were many who didn’t receive so much as a dagger, as most would rather see them die than give them a chance to choose their own end.

The remains, now reduced to mere skeletons, were so mangled that it was clear how brutally they had died — shattered skulls, bodies missing most of their limbs.

Ethan gathered the few bones left and dug beneath a tree to bury them.
He tied together two suitable branches to mark the grave, sometimes hanging a necklace or ring — proof of identity — over the marker.
If nothing could be found, he would tear scraps from what was likely their clothing to mark the spot.

Those with necklaces or rings engraved with family crests had been nobles;
those without had either been born without status or were former nobles who had lost their family name.

Belphirn was a famous execution ground known by everyone, but those who died there were often people who shouldn’t have died. The remains, now reduced to skeletons, were so mangled that it was clear how brutally they had died – skulls crushed, bodies missing most of their limbs.

Ethan gathered the few remaining bones and dug under a tree to bury them.

He tied two suitable branches together to mark the grave, sometimes hanging a necklace or ring – proof of identity – over the marker.

If nothing could be found, he would tear off scraps of what was probably their clothing to mark the spot.

Those with necklaces or rings engraved with family crests had been nobles;

Those without had either been born without status or were former nobles who had lost their family name.

Belphirn was a famous and widely known place of execution, but those who died there were often people who shouldn’t have.

“If you bury them, is that enough?”

“I do it while being grateful that I can continue to live thanks to them…”

“Why?”

“What do you mean, why?”

As if his knowledge wasn’t limited enough, this woman didn’t let a single question pass without digging deeper. Ethan frowned.

“Life is natural. Why should you be grateful?”

“Because I was able to survive thanks to the things they left behind.”

“They’re dead anyway. It’s not like they can use any of it, so why does it matter if I do?”

“If it weren’t for them, you probably wouldn’t have been able to use those things at all.”

“Oh, so you’re saying you’re grateful they died?”

“…….”

“I didn’t take you for that kind of person, but wow, Ethan, you have a nasty personality, don’t you?”

‘Damn it…’

Ethan rubbed his forehead.

It happened every time – she always made him think so hard that his head felt like it was going to explode.

“Who has a bad personality? You’re worse! That’s not what I meant – to be grateful because they died… No! Ugh, hearing you talk nonsense makes my head spin too. Anyway, it’s not about being grateful for something like that!

It’s more like… since I was helped by them, and since they suffered until the end, I pray that they will at least find peace beside the gods after death!”

Ef’s eyes rolled.

“Ethan. Gods don’t exist.”

“…….”

Ethan fell silent.

He never thought he’d hear something like that in a place like this.

When he glanced down, her bright eyes were already looking straight up at him, her chin tilted down slightly as she met his gaze.

A large hand, rough and covered with scars and calluses, rested gently on her slender neck.

The slow, steady rhythm of her heartbeat was gentle, as was everything about her.

In a land where the influence of the Temple was strong, it was hard to tell whether a woman like her, who claimed there were no gods, was incredibly brave or simply ignorant.

“Hey, if you said that outside, you’d be beaten to a pulp.”

“Why?”

At her blunt question, Ethan let out a soft laugh, like a breath slipping between his teeth.

“Because the people out there are crazy about anything to do with the gods.”

Especially the temple people – they were fanatics.

When it came to their god, they’d embrace a woman like her – who denied the gods – and blow themselves up if they had to.

“Even if they don’t exist?”

Her clear eyes held genuine curiosity.

“Even if they don’t.”

“I see.”

“So don’t say things like that outside. Or you’ll have all sorts of annoying people following you around.”

“OK. But Ethan.”

“What?”

“I’m not mean.”

That was all she had to say, and she said it even more seriously than before.

Ethan chuckled and ruffled Ifs hair.

***

“Beasts are really fascinating.”

The Locus shell they had rescued the day before had dried out completely in just one day.

When they first brought it back it had been soft, almost like rubber, but once the moisture had evaporated it had hardened to the point where it made a crunching sound when tapped.

Even the greenish tint it had had was gone, turning pitch black as it dried.

“Honestly, I think it’s much more amazing that you’re a seventy year old grandmother with that face.”

As Ethan placed the now dried shell over If’s stomach, he wrapped a long strip of cloth around it to hold it in place.

Normally this would be a by-product that needed proper processing, but here, without even a village – let alone a blacksmith – it was the best he could do.

“I’m not a grandmother.”

“So, what, a grandmother over a hundred?”

If pouted, her lips sticking out in a sulky frown.

“You’re the one with the mean personality, Ethan. Why do you always say mean things?”

“Well, you’re over a hundred.”

“That’s because you won’t live long enough. You’re too weak.”

“Who are you calling weak?”

He was completely taken aback.

Did she think he was wrapping her in Locus shell for fun?

Her wrists looked like they would snap if he squeezed them even a little.

On top of that, she was barely eating enough to keep a bird alive.

“If you say I’m not weak, how come you’re only forty?”

If squirmed, shifting her body under the shell that was pressing down not only on her chest but also on her arms and legs, and asked,

“Have you ever thought about growing old?”

“Oh, getting old. Right.”

“You have to get old too, don’t you?”

Ethan made one last check to make sure everything was secure, then pulled a blanket over If’s shoulders.

She was so much trouble – not even aware if her own body temperature was rising or falling, so he had to look after her all the time.

“I don’t.”

“What?”

“Well, to be precise, I age, but so little that it might as well not exist.”

“Hah. You – your kind may call yourselves human, but you’re not really human, are you?”

Ancient ruins and artefacts, when found, could be used without magic and were traded for staggering sums.

Rumour had it that if you presented one to the royal family, you might even be granted a title – though of course no one really believed that.

Even if it were true, they’d rather kill you and take it than give you a title.

But now there was a real Ancient standing before him – the very people who had created these artefacts.

The value they represented was beyond imagination.

“It’s a bit different, yes. About 71.9%.”

“What does that mean?”

“Your arm. The one I made for you.”

He poked at Ethan’s right arm.

The structure of the skin is divided into two layers: the epidermis and the dermis.

What was now covering his arm was artificial skin, replacing the epidermis.

On the surface it looked convincing enough – but beneath that layer it was clearly mechanical.

The dermis layer beneath the artificial skin was made of nanomachines.

When pressed with even the slightest force, these once-flexible nanomachines would react to the stimulus and quickly coalesce, hardening like armour.

As for the muscles and bones, they were made of the hardest alloys.

Although he hadn’t tested how strong it was, the prosthetic arm was definitely tougher than a normal human body.

“71.9% of my body is made of the same structure as this arm.”

A humanoid.

A body altered by genetic manipulation and mechanical augmentation, leaving most human biological functions behind.

What she had salvaged from the broken cryosleep pod were the mechanical parts that had once made up a humanoid.

For humans whose bodies had been mechanised, death was more like being broken, and their bodies were nothing more than something that could be dismantled and reused as needed.

“Huh? Can you even call that human?”

On the outside it looked completely human, but inside it was filled with nothing but metal.

Ethan knew this better than anyone, having a prosthetic arm himself.

It was a machine – one that only looked human.

Even though it moved at his will and transmitted sensations like a real arm, the fact that it was a machine never really went away.

“Yes. I’m not an AI. I’m definitely a human with a personality.”

The modifications had only been made because biological functions were deemed unnecessary.

A pure human needed an average of 7 to 8 hours of sleep a day.

Add to that the time spent eating and digesting, and that was at least 12 hours a day.

In other words, half the day was wasted on biological functions.

Faced with such inefficiency, body modification became a trend.

Since augmentation was easier and simpler than cosmetic surgery, everyone started doing it, and soon being a humanoid became the norm for humans.

Genetic modification was popular even before that.

Hair colour, eye colour, skin diseases – only useful genes were kept, while the rest were destroyed and replaced with others.

“It’s convenient. No need to sleep, no need to eat. No biological functions at all.”

“No wonder you never go to the toilet. Wait, wait. But you did eat, didn’t you?”

Even for someone as strange as her, he had assumed that she would simply refrain from doing those things in front of a strange man – but who would have thought that she didn’t need to?

“I was curious. I can eat. It’s not like I’ve had my whole body changed.”

Some basic biological functions were gone, but the mechanisms were still there.

She just didn’t use them because she didn’t need to.

Thinking back to the meat she had eaten yesterday – it had been an interesting sensation.

‘When I go outside, I’m never bored.’

There really were so many fascinating things in the outside world.

Like those beasts, for example.

If’s eyes were fixed on a beast puffing itself up in the bushes.

‘That’s another one I’ve never seen before.’