“Materials made from monster remains?”
Kieran repeated, recalling whispers he’d heard in the capital. Some had muttered in disgust about the Benoit knights wearing monster hides as armor.
“Yes. We make armor from their hides and weapons from their bones,” Alyssa explained.
Kieran had assumed such remarks were just malicious gossip. He listened with faint surprise as Alyssa elaborated.
“Monster hides are very light yet tough, and their bones are several times stronger than iron. And, above all…” Alyssa’s voice trailed off, a hint of embarrassment creeping in. “They’re piled up here in this region.”
Kieran understood.
Monster carcasses neither decompose easily nor burn well. Even after death, they remain a nuisance for the humans they attacked. Naturally, the empire provided no assistance in disposing of the monster bodies accumulating in Benoit’s lands; if anything, they often redirected corpses from other regions to be dumped here.
“So, since the prior budget wasn’t able to cover the cost of regular equipment, the knights started using the surplus of monster carcasses?”
Alyssa nodded at Kieran’s question.
“At first, it was because we didn’t have funds. But after using it for a while, we realized it was actually better than most metals. Now, even if iron equipment is provided, the knights refuse it.”
Kieran remained silent for a moment, deep in thought, and Alyssa watched him with a hint of apprehension.
‘Is he disgusted by it?’
The knights who wore monster hides had often been a target of scorn, with people saying they were little better than the monsters they hunted.
“Where is the monster carcass storage?” Kieran finally asked.
“We stack them outside the western wall,” Alyssa replied. “It’s close to the castle but far from any residences.”
Alyssa cautiously watched his reaction before offering, “If it makes you uncomfortable, we can move them farther away. Or, if that’s still not acceptable… it might take a while, but we could dispose of everything except what’s absolutely needed.”
Surprisingly, Kieran immediately shook his head, as if rejecting something outrageous.
“No, absolutely not. Do not dispose of them. Instead, gather them properly. We may need to relocate them, though. Rather than keeping them outside the walls, it would be better to build a secure storage facility within the castle.”
Alyssa was taken aback. Keeping monster carcasses—things everyone else found revolting—even closer?
“You’re saying we should keep them inside the castle?”
“Is there a problem with that?”
“No, no… I’m just… a little surprised, that’s all.”
Benoit Duchy, though littered with monster remains, had no shortage of unused storage rooms. It was feasible but… why?
As Alyssa pondered in confusion, Kieran again drifted into his thoughts.
‘When exactly did it start?’
In his previous life, Kieran had lived nearly in isolation, cut off from the events of the world. As a result, he was unaware of most things that were to come—except for one crucial event.
It was something he had overheard during the early days of his marriage, when he would often venture out to adjust to life in the castle.
Though he remembered only the general outline, he recalled the start vividly.
The piercing sound of alarms, the sudden onslaught of monsters, and the people who arrived with them…
“Is it common for monsters to attack the domain?” he asked.
Alyssa, surprised by the unexpected question, quickly responded.
“Yes, though it varies by season,” she said carefully.
“Winter is the most intense, with invasions happening nearly every week. In summer, there are fewer attacks, but they happen simultaneously across different areas… In autumn, about once a month.”
“And spring?”
“In spring, there are no attacks. It’s when the forest prepares itself for the year ahead.”
As Alyssa explained, monster attacks occurred mainly in autumn and winter. The incident Kiaran vaguely recalled likely took place during one of these seasons.
“Must have been autumn, then,” he thought.
In his memories, monster invasions were infrequent. Although he had mostly kept to his chambers, rarely venturing out even during the occasional chaos, no one had ever come for him in a panic.
It was surprising he hadn’t noticed more attacks during the five winters he had spent there. He’d thought five years was a short time, but on reflection, he felt he had been remarkably lucky to survive even that long.
In any case, if it’s autumn, he was relieved—spring had just begun, so they still had two full seasons to prepare.
“The forest prepares itself?” Kieran asked, sensing an oddity in her words. Alyssa nodded.
“Most assume that ‘Monster’s Forest’ simply means a forest inhabited by monsters, but that’s not quite right.”
A vast expanse of the Benoit territory stretched to the north and was uncharted, with no adventurer ever having ventured deep enough to uncover its true nature.
“The forest itself is the monster.”
Though cryptic, anyone who had witnessed the onset of these attacks would understand.
“It’s not that monsters hidden within the dense forest emerge; rather, the forest itself seems to stir in strange movements, as if releasing parts of itself.”
“The creatures that live there, along with the trees rooted in the soil, even down to a single pebble—all of it defies common sense.”
While people call it a forest, it might not be a forest in the conventional sense.
“While only certain types attack humans, there’s no part of it that’s truly safe. Every element within the forest is hostile to humans.”
To prepare for attacks, the knights live in the northern stronghold. Yet, even they never set foot beyond the boundary that separates the estate from the forest. They only battle the creatures that cross into human lands, not the ones that remain in their own territory.
“I see…”
After Alyssa finished explaining, she braced herself, only to see Kieran nodding calmly, as though it was nothing out of the ordinary.
“What does it mean that spring is when they ‘prepare for the year’?”
“Oh, well…”
Before she could relax, he asked his next question. Alyssa gathered her thoughts to answer.
The Benoit family had been battling these monsters for generations, meticulously gathering information about them to fight more effectively and minimize casualties.
The information had been gradually refined over generations and was passed down extensively to Alyssa in the current generation.
One of the insights included the hunting cycles of the creatures.
Regarding the monsters’ seasonal attacks, one of Alyssa’s ancestors theorized that these beings cultivate like humans do.
During summer, which was neither barren nor bountiful, attacks were occasional. In autumn, when humans harvested crops, the attacks sharply declined.
Conversely, in winter, when everything was frozen, monsters frequently attacked humans. Yet in spring, when life renewed, they grew quiet again.
The reason there were no attacks in spring was because it was the creatures’ breeding season. After spring, new types of creatures often emerged during their attacks, ones unseen before.
“Fascinating. This is all completely new information to me,” Kieran replied with interest after her lengthy explanation.
“I thought I knew more about these monsters than most, but clearly I was mistaken.”
This time, it was Alyssa who felt puzzled. Most people were deeply averse to these monsters, so she couldn’t imagine he’d have heard much about them in the capital.
“Have you had an interest in monsters?”
At Alyssa’s cautious question, Kieran hesitated before answering, eventually shaking his head slowly.
“No, not exactly. It’s just…”
For a brief moment, a thoughtful look crossed Kearan’s face.
What he was about to say wasn’t a secret, nor anything particularly concealed—it was a well-known fact.
However, every time Kieran had shared this fact before, he’d been met with nothing but disdain: a frown, a dismissive glance, or a subtle sneer barely hidden behind someone’s hand.
So, he could count on one hand the number of times he had willingly brought it up himself.
As he debated how to answer, Kieran realized he had already made his choice.
In the past, if someone had asked him if he was interested in monsters, he might have shrugged or nodded lightly, leaving it at that.
But this time, Kieran shook his head, despite knowing that he’d have to reveal a part of his story he had long avoided. He sensed that Alyssa wouldn’t respond with the usual dismissiveness he’d come to expect.
She might actually listen, he thought, a ridiculous notion. Kieran inwardly scoffed at his own baseless trust.
But it was too late; without realizing it, he’d already decided to speak.
“When I was young, my mother often told me stories.”
Pressing his faintly trembling fingers firmly against his leg, Kieran continued in a steady voice.
“My mother… she was from Elsha.”
