249, Vampire Child, over here.
The timing was convenient—the school had scheduled an off-campus training exercise, so the Vampire Child was assigned to participate.
The location was a hunting ground for low-level monsters, commonly known as a beginner-friendly level-up zone.
In this world, monsters are categorized by a danger rating system. The forest, designated as a hunting ground, only spawns monsters rated at level E.
A level E monster is comparable to the frog that once inhabited the Elro Great Labyrinth.
No matter how the Vampire Child struggled, it would not face a challenge beyond its current capabilities.
This danger rating system was originally established by the human race. It serves as a benchmark: if six human adventurers were to face a single monster, the difficulty would correspond to the monster’s danger rating.
For example, if a monster was rated B, then six adventurers of B rank would face a balanced confrontation.
Thus, a B-rank adventurer does not necessarily correspond to a B-rated monster.
In actuality, it possesses six times the strength.
However, the lowest rank among adventurers is reportedly D rank, a level attainable by anyone without difficulty.
Thus, anyone could claim the title of D-rank adventurer simply by registering, effective from that day.
Thus, rankings below D are based solely on the strength of monsters, serving only as a rough estimation.
The difference in strength between a newly ranked D-class adventurer and one who has undergone proper training is significant.
Some D-rank adventurers are more akin to pseudo-adventurers who earn a living gathering herbs without fighting monsters, making them unreliable as a rule.
Speaking in such terms, there would likely be a difference in strength between a newly promoted adventurer and one on the verge of the next rank—though it's merely a guideline.
When fighting monsters alone, the appropriate rank is typically one or two levels lower.
A B-rank adventurer would face C-rank monsters, for example.
Incidentally, my original species, the Small Lassarta Lactect, has a danger level of F.
Danger level F.
Danger level F!
How weak is that, really?
It's as if saying even ordinary people could defeat them.
Side note.
The Vampire Child continues hunting in the forest.
Discontent is plainly visible on their face.
Apparently, they are displeased that the monsters are too weak to provide a proper challenge.
I’ve heard about Mel’s situation, but apparently vampires’ combat motivation is not about domination—rather, they seek a fair fight against opponents stronger than themselves.
Given that, monsters of danger level E are clearly insufficient for the current Vampire Child.
But don’t worry.
I’ve prepared an opponent perfectly suited to the conditions.
Ogakun, subtly guiding the path, arrived in the forest.
Identification cannot be used. The current status of Ogakun is unknown.
Or rather, calling him Ogakun might no longer be accurate.
He has evolved.
Possibly due to repeated slaughter, his level has increased, triggering evolution.
His frame, once large, has shrunk and now matches human size.
Yet, despite the reduced stature, the strength of his aura has intensified.
In my estimation, nearly equivalent to a Vampire Child.
The horns growing from his forehead—this form qualifies as Oni.
What surprised me was Oni-kun's face.
I recognized it immediately. It was Sasajima-kun.
In the Wakaba-hime memory, Sasajima-kun was known to be close with Yamada-kun and Oshima-kun, both of human lineage, attending the same academy.
There is a clear recollection of the three often speaking together.
I knew Oni-kun was a reincarnated soul, but I didn’t know who exactly.
Yamada-kun and Oshima-kun both kept asking the teacher about Sasajima-kun’s whereabouts—multiple times.
The teacher seemed to know something about Sasajima-kun, though. Perhaps the teacher had encountered him during the time he was rampaging through the human domain?
Considering the reincarnated soul in the elven village and the one at the human academy, working backward, a likely candidate emerged.
Ah, right.
If you think about it, Oni-kun’s identity becomes clear through elimination.
Not that I didn’t know—more that I didn’t care to know.
Anyway, Oni-kun’s true identity doesn’t matter.
What matters is why he’s taken the same face as in his previous life.
When I became Arakne, my face became Wakaba-hime’s color. Do monsters evolve toward humanoid forms and then assume the face they envision for themselves?
If that’s the case, then it makes sense that my face would settle on the visage of my past life.
How will the Vampire Child react upon seeing Sasa-jima-kun’s face?
No reaction.
Combat begins the moment we meet.
A touching reunion between reincarnated souls, yet.
Huh?
The Vampire Child hasn’t noticed?
Or has it noticed and chosen to ignore?
Hmm.
I’d vote for the unaware option.
It’s noticed, but thinks this one looks strong—doesn’t care about that kind of thing.
Still, can’t rule out that possibility either.
Well, whatever.
It went exactly as planned—collided with me directly.
Sorry, Oni-kun, but you’ll be the stress-relief target for the Vampire Child.
Afterward, regardless of victory or defeat, I’ll put you to sleep.
First move: preemptive strike by the Vampire Child.
Hahaha! Can’t hold back anymore!
A charge that feels like it’s accompanied by such a shout.
The Vampire Child has grown into such a fine brute…
She brings the greatsword down onto Oni-kun.
Oni-kun attempts to block with one sword, but fails. He brings the second sword into play, finally managing to parry.
Probably intended to block with one hand, then counter with the other.
But the Vampire Child’s attack was heavier than anticipated. He rushed to defend with full effort.
“F-fufufu. Stopped it. I stopped my attack. Fufufu!”
O-oh…
The Vampire Child wears a dangerous smile.
“This is battle! First time ever! Fighting with true intent!”
How long had that built up?
This one’s lost it.
If there were a title for battle junkies, she’d have earned it for sure.
No such title exists, though.
The Vampire Child activates magic and skills.
Oni-kun braces in response.
I watch the exchange, snack in hand.
Fai-toh.
Munching.