"I don’t."
The sloth shifted slightly in its chair.
"But... I can say with certainty that there is no beast with such a noble bloodline as that raven inside this forest."
Its paw gestured vaguely toward where the Hound had gone.
"The pressure of the bloodline is such that it even made the Hound fear the raven a bit."
’Fear? The thing that crushed an A+ rank elf like an insect... fears Kuro?’
"The Hound..." Damian’s voice trailed off. "It didn’t seem to like me."
"...And why would the Hound like the disciple of the man who made all the beasts in this forest his prisoners?"
The words hung heavy.
Damian’s hands stopped gripping the armrests.
"...What?"
"You use the Abyssal Slaughter art."
The sloth’s eyes were fully closed now.
"The art based on belief... Kaiser is your master, isn’t he?"
Damian said nothing for a long time as the rocking chair creaked and the wind rustled leaves.
"...Yes."
"Kaiser is the one who has imprisoned all the beasts in this forest."
The whisper was matter-of-fact, no judgment in it.
"No beast dares to even go out into the human world because of that man, even when he isn’t here... They hate him."
It paused.
"But also have the greatest fear for him."
’So they know Kaiser isn’t here.’
The realization settled over Damian like cold water.
’And yet... they still won’t leave.’
"...And you don’t hate him?"
The sloth’s mouth opened slightly, something that might have been a smile.
"Why should I hate him?"
Its paw waved dismissively.
"Unlike the others, I don’t want to do anything, go anywhere, or even waste my energy."
It shifted again, getting more comfortable.
"I could leave if I wanted to. Kaiser never tried to trap me. We just... exist in the same space sometimes." It paused. "He even comes here a lot, to keep me company and gives me books to read."
Damian looked at the creature beside him.
"So... all you want is to read... books?"
"...According to you, what should I be doing then?"
The question wasn’t defensive, just curious.
Damian’s mouth opened, then closed.
His hands released the armrests, falling to his lap.
"Shouldn’t you be finding ways to become more powerful? To survive in this forest, in this world... you need power."
The sloth reached into its robes with agonizing slowness, pulling out an old pipe.
It lit somehow, smoke curling up into the air.
Damian watched this happen and decided to just... accept it.
The sloth took a long drag, then released smoke in a thin stream.
"I was a normal creature who hung in trees, ate leaves and slept twenty hours a day... when the world changed."
The whisper was different now, carrying weight it hadn’t before.
"Aura flooded everything and I started... thinking. It was terrifying. Imagine being barely conscious one moment, then the next, you understand everything..."
Damian leaned forward slightly, his rocking stopping.
"At the start, I just wanted to go back to sleeping and being dumb, but I couldn’t. So I survived and evolved... I became more and more powerful."
Another drag from the pipe.
"Then one day, after years of constant struggle, I suddenly stopped... and looked back in time."
It paused.
"When I used to just be lazy... With my intelligence very low... Life was good back then."
The sloth’s eyes opened, looking at the lake rather than Damian.
"I yearned for those days... Those carefree days with nothing to look forward to and nothing to seek."
It turned to face him.
"The world changed... And it gave every living being more lifespan, the more powerful they became."
Its paw gestured at the forest.
"But when I looked around, instead of appreciating life and enjoying it, everyone was busy chasing power."
The pipe smoke curled between them.
"I realized then... power is a sick thing. It is a hunger that is never satisfied."
Damian looked at the crimson sky reflected in the lake.
His hands lay still in his lap and his breathing had slowed to match the peaceful rhythm of this place.
Silence stretched between them, comfortable and heavy.
"So now..."
The sloth settled deeper into its chair.
"I just do what I like... I read when I’m bored and I embrace my nature."
"Must be nice."
The words came out before Damian could stop them, carrying more weight than he’d intended.
"...What about you?"
The sloth’s eyes were closing again.
"What do you want to do?"
Damian’s eyes closed too, his head leaned back against the rocking chair.
"...Want is a luxury I can’t afford."
"Hmm?"
"Wanting things is for people who have the freedom to choose."
His voice was quiet.
"...I don’t have that freedom."
The sloth’s eyes opened slightly, watching him.
"You said power is a sick thing, that it is a hunger that is never satisfied."
Damian’s voice was quiet, barely above the wind.
"But I was a starving child once." His hands clenched in his lap. "And when you are starving, everything tastes good. Even if... it is a very sickly thing. You eat it all, not because you want to, but because you remember what it’s like to be so empty it hurts to even breathe."
The sloth looked at him for a long moment, its lazy eyes suddenly sharp.
"...Suddenly, you seem wise for someone your age."
Damian shook his head.
"No."
His voice carried something bitter.
"I have been making foolish decisions for a long time now... I’m a slave to what I was programmed to be."
The sloth looked back at the lake, taking another drag from its pipe.
"And who isn’t?" The whisper was soft again. "Every living being has a nature. I was programmed to be lazy, to conserve energy and to do nothing. For decades I fought it, thought I had to keep climbing... Then I realized something."
"What?"
"My nature wasn’t the problem... Fighting it was. I was miserable because I kept trying to be something I wasn’t."
Its voice was barely audible now.
"The moment I accepted what I am, I became free. So... just embrace yourself."
Silence fell between them again.
This time, neither of them spoke.
They just rocked, watching the water, existing in this strange moment of peace that shouldn’t exist between a human and a beast, but did anyway.
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