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Chapter 2

After crying my heart out, I finally noticed the still-twitching bird lying next to me. The fact that it was twitching meant it was still alive.

Apparently, it had only fainted from my scream. I was relieved I hadn’t killed it, and reached out—well, extended my root—to bring it somewhere safe and care for it.

(In fantasy stories, Mandragora lore sometimes says hearing their scream kills you, and sometimes just causes fainting or confusion… maybe in this world, it’s the latter?)

The moment I touched the bird’s body, I sensed a「Taste」. It was surprisingly good. I blinked in confusion at the strange phenomenon, and the bird began to wilt. Soon, it shriveled into a dry, twig-like form and stopped moving.

At the same time, that trumpet melody played again in my head.

(Is that sound… something like a level-up chime…?)

Even someone raised in an orphanage has played games before. When a character levels up, there’s always a little melody to signal it. That had to be it.

Which meant—I’d leveled up by defeating that bird.

「Mweeeehn…!」

Apparently, Mandragoras aren’t built for human speech. I’d tried to say 「I’m sorry」 but it came out sounding like a sheep’s bleat. …I really want to be able to talk properly someday.

(Ugh… this body absorbs life just by touching things… I really am a monster, aren’t I…)

Or maybe a magical beast? I mean, roots are supposed to absorb nutrients, and these limbs I’ve been thinking of as arms and legs must be roots that suck energy from anything they touch.

(Wait, those trumpet sounds played multiple times earlier, didn’t they? …Did I… accidentally commit mass murder…?)

This bird survived my scream, but maybe other creatures aren’t so lucky. It’s possible the effect of a Mandragora’s voice varies between species, some might die just from hearing it.

And I had run through the forest screaming like mad, spreading my deadly voice everywhere. If any of those creatures lacked resistance to it… I might have wiped out a whole bunch of them. I felt myself going pale—though technically my 「skin」 was brown now.

(What if there were humans among them…?!)

If it were other monsters, it’s one thing. But I had a strong feeling, that as a human, even if only previously, killing another human being is something I can’t, or rather, shouldn’t do.

(Should I go back and check…?)

I turned toward the deep forest. From my tiny Mandragora-sized body, all I saw was a dark, ominous thicket of towering trees and grass. Just looking at it made my courage falter. Going back to check for bodies? Yeah, no. That wasn’t happening.

Seems I’d become a lot more cowardly since turning into a Mandragora. Whether it’s a racial trait or just my personal disposition as a monster, I couldn’t say.

(But what now…? I don’t even know how Mandragoras live.)

I still had my memories from when I was human—enough to fully believe I was Hanazono Misaki until I saw myself. My personality seemed to have shifted in some ways, but my values still felt close to human.

(Humans need food, shelter, and clothing… Now that I think about it, when I first woke up, I was fine even without doing anything. That was before I got yanked out by that green guy—when I was buried in the dirt. So if I go underground, I guess that takes care of both food and shelter…?)

Also, let’s face it—Mandragoras don’t need clothes. Even if my chubby little root-body is totally exposed, it’s just a root. Nothing shameful about it. …Though still, this body is ridiculously well-fed. The soil I was originally buried in must’ve been super nutrient-rich.

(My flower really is beautiful, too. Yeah, just looking at the flower—it’s not bad.)

Mandragoras are fantasy plants, so there’s no direct equivalent back in my old world. But the large pink petals layered like a rose or peony, glowing faintly, were genuinely gorgeous. Maybe the gods had granted my dying wish. …Though looking below that bloom, I was still a turnip with stubby limbs and a haniwa doll’s face—not exactly a dream come true. But the flower was undeniably lovely.

I remembered that saying: 「A beautiful flower grows from death.」 I tried not to think too hard about what nutrients might have nourished me in that soil and shook the thoughts from my head.

(Plants should be able to rest underground, right? So even without a house, I can rest anywhere. Today’s been exhausting—maybe I’ll rest and think again later.)

The soil near the spring was soft and damp—easy to burrow into. Surprisingly comfortable, too. Maybe I could make a home here—just as I was getting drowsy with the idea, something yanked me up again.

「KYAAAAAA!?!?」

「Gwah…!」

I screamed reflexively from the sudden shock. This body apparently screams automatically when startled—so I had no control over it.

Like before, I was flung into the air—this time landing with a splash in the water. The next instant, I locked eyes with a fish. It had eight eyes. And of course, I screamed again. The trumpet melody was blaring inside my head once more.

(No no no no!! That’s terrifying!! Why can’t I swim faster?! I wish I had webbed hands or something…!)

The moment I wished for it, I found I could swim better. I scrambled to land as fast as I could. Waiting for me was that same green-skinned giant from before.

Apparently, these green giants have a habit of pulling up Mandragoras from the ground when they spot one.

(Okay, decision made. I need to find a safe… really safe place to live! Maybe there’s a human kingdom somewhere. In a human land, monsters like this wouldn’t be roaming around, right…?)

The problem was—my current form. A Mandragora. A plant monster. …Even if I have human memories, no way they’d accept me.

I sighed, then noticed something about my hand—and jumped. I had… a hand. What was once just a thick root-tip had turned into a proper hand—with webbing between the fingers.

(Why…? …Was it because I wished for webbed hands?)

Could it be that this body changes to match my desires? Looking down at my creepy webbed hand, I swallowed—or rather, sucked in air. Seems Mandragoras don’t have saliva.

―――――――――――――

Elsewhere, in a room in the royal castle of a certain kingdom, court mage Nicolaus was staring intently at a single potted plant. He hadn’t moved in over an hour, prompting the knight Ritter—assigned as his assistant—to finally speak up in concern.

「Mage-dono, may I ask… what exactly are you doing?」

「What? Isn’t it obvious?」

「Not to me, no.」

「Ugh. This is why I can’t stand commoners…」

Nicolaus shot him a look of pure exasperation, and Ritter bristled slightly. But this man was an undisputed magical genius, employed by the crown itself. As a knight sent to assist him, Ritter had no right to talk back. He bit back the complaint rising to his lips. Everyone knew Nicolaus was eccentric—it came with the territory.

「…Let me dumb it down. Most monsters just grow bigger as they evolve. That’s the general rule—they’re dumb, so all they care about is brute strength. But the smart evolve in much more interesting ways.」

「Huh. Monsters can be intelligent?」

「Somewhat. Not on par with humans, sure, but there are monsters with enough sense to strategize—like monkeys or crows. And those monsters can choose how they evolve.」

Most monsters were no better than beasts—often worse, since they were more aggressive and lacked reason. As they aged and gained strength, they tended to grow larger. Occasionally, however, certain individuals underwent strange, unique transformations. These were called 「variant species」 and Nicolaus was currently researching them.

「…But isn’t that a Mandragora?」

「Exactly. That’s my current subject. Even plant-based monsters like Mandragoras seem to possess some degree of intelligence. They can scream, and they move around a bit—makes them closer to animals, don’t you think? …So tell me—what kind of Mandragora would you be afraid of?」

Mandragoras are classified as magical plants. Their screams are used in the creation of elixirs, and since they can’t move on their own, they’re easy to farm. Most people treat them more like dangerous herbs than actual monsters.

Their only real threat is the cursed scream they emit when pulled from the ground, which can kill the unprepared. But with proper earplugs, they pose no danger. Since they’re rooted, the damage they cause is extremely limited.

「…Well, I guess if one could run around, that’d be scary. If it screamed and I wasn’t prepared, I might die.」

「Ha! Not bad—for a commoner. A running Mandragora… I’d love to see that. What do you think, want to evolve in that direction?」

Talking to a potted Mandragora like it could answer him, Nicolaus was clearly a madman. A running Mandragora? That’s absurd. If such a thing existed, it would upend the entire ecosystem.

(They say there’s a fine line between genius and madness… but still, no way he’d make an actual running mandragora… right?)