𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐤𝐢𝐧
“The catalyst dates back to a thousand years ago.”
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Namil began to speak quietly.
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“Originally, this region was inhabited by a mix of beastkin and humans. Though there were occasional conflicts, the relationship between them was generally good. This changed dramatically due to a pandemic known as ‘Black Spot Fever.’”
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“Black Spot Fever is a terrifying disease that causes high fever and black spots to appear all over the body, ultimately resulting in death by bleeding from the entire body. It’s said that over half of the population in the region died from it.”
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“Fortunately, a few years later, a cure was developed, and normal life resumed. However, by then, rumors had spread among the humans that we beastkin were responsible for spreading the Black Spot Fever.”
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“Why would they think that?”
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Luke asked, to which Namil sighed.
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“It’s said to be because we beastkin were less susceptible to the Black Spot Fever compared to humans. Thus, it was believed we were the spreaders.”
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“That’s. . .”
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Luke found himself at a loss for words.
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After all, it’s a story from a thousand years ago; there’s no way to verify if it’s true.
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“But why were beastkin less likely to contract Black Spot Fever? Is there a reason?”
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“I don’t know.”
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Namil shook his head gravely.
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“But it’s said that the beastkin were saved by the blessing of a goddess.”
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“A goddess?”
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“Yes, the goddess we worship, known as the Great Horned Princess. Even today, the villagers worship her, as do I.”
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Namil pointed to an altar on the wall where a statue of the goddess was enshrined.
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The statue was of a voluptuous woman with huge horns like those of a bull on her head.
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“A thousand years ago, a goddess with horns on her head visited this land and imparted various wisdoms to our ancestors. Since then, we have been worshipping the Great Horned Princess.”
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“So that’s how it was. . . But this goddess, she looks familiar. . .”
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“Luuuuuke, what are you doing? Come and have a drink with us.”
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As Luke was intently observing the goddess statue, Alma leaned on him from behind.
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“Ah, Alma, be careful.”
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“Hey, doesn’t she look like Iris?”
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Alma muttered while looking at the goddess statue.
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“You think so too? I thought the horns and such resembled Iris. Could it be. . .?”
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“More than the horns, look at this chest! There’s no one else with such huge breasts and horns other than Iris!”
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“That part?”
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“The Great Horned Princess is said to have wielded powerful magic, controlling even the weather, and bestowed upon us the wisdom to live in the forest. It is believed that we survived the Black Spot Fever thanks to the goddess’ wisdom and our forest-based lifestyle.”
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Namil continued his story.
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“After the Black Spot Fever subsided, Mercapolis developed again, and the humans thrived. But we, who had friction with the humans, ended up in our current situation.”
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Namil looked down, his eyes filled with regret.
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“Even so, until a few years ago, we had a good relationship, but recently, the faction in the city that excludes beastkin has been gaining momentum, and our agricultural products and crafts are not selling at all. Due to financial difficulties, we are forced to engage in hard labor such as the strength of dungeons, and the income we get from it is meager.”
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“Is that what happened?”
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Luke could only sigh.
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The friction between the townspeople and the beastkin was deeper than Luke had imagined.
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If it was just poverty due to low income, there might be a solution, but what about a grudge that spans a thousand years?
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“By the way, if the merchants in the city won’t deal with you, why is Natalia here?”
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“Why? Because where there’s business, there are merchants!”
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Natalia yelled in a slurred tone.
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“In Mercapolis, the damn commercial guild implicitly bans dealings with beastkin! Screw that! If there’s something to sell, I’ll sell it, that’s what a merchant does!”
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“That’s right! The merchants of Mercapolis are crap!”
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Sicily joined in, linking arms with Natalia.
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Namil continued the conversation with a wry smile.
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“Still, there are a few who trade with us. Our liquor sometimes sells through such people. It’s rare to find someone like Lady Natalia who wants to buy for business.”
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“What, shouldn’t I sell?”
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Natalia cut into the conversation.
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“For me, whether it’s beastkin or humans doesn’t matter at all! If it looks like it’ll sell, I’ll sell it, that’s all. And those old folks in the union go on about ‘track records’ and ‘traditions’ being so annoying!”
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“That’s right!”
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“This liquor here, if it were openly sold, it would sell even more! I know so many people in the city who love this liquor! But the shelf life is too short. . .”
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“Exactly, I want to buy this liquor too. If I take it to St. Arrogas, it will definitely sell.”
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Sicily gazed dreamily at the jar of Crete liquor.
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“Ah, it’s gone. Kick, can you bring some more liquor?”
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“Got it!”
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When Kick stood up, a beastkin burst through the door.
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He was holding a human man in a headlock.
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“It’s terrible! The Crete liquor. . . it’s become unusable!”
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