ORCA 3

The Wair family estate is one of the most magnificent among the many mansions owned by orca families. Behind the tall, long building constructed of pale reddish bricks lies a lawn that leads to mountains and forests, a large lake within the forest, and in front, a courtyard vast enough to host a party for the entire village, a colorful garden, a glass greenhouse, and tree-lined paths that remain green throughout the seasons.

Orca looked at this luxurious scene with a bored expression before turning his gaze away. It wasn’t fun. Just seeing dozens of servants bowing their heads was enough to make him yawn. He pulled at his tie to loosen it, not bothering to hide the furrow in his brow. He was not at all happy to be back home after such a long time.

Three days? Maybe four days would be enough.

Instead of being overcome with emotion, Orca was simply gauging how long he should stay. It was more interesting to be lost in such thoughts.

He hadn’t even packed his luggage, like someone who was ready to return at any moment. For Orca, the place he needed to return to was not the Wair estate, but the battlefield at the border. The battlefield was more enjoyable than this mansion, where there was nothing but peace. So, Orca had absolutely no intention of staying at the mansion for long.

“Bailey. You come with me to assist Orca.”

The mistress led Orca into the mansion and handpicked Bailey as the servant to attend to him. Startled, Bailey followed behind, feeling intimidated for no reason.

The servants who had been bowing their heads one by one straightened their backs. They exchanged looks, and it was only after the masters of the mansion had completely disappeared that they whispered quietly about Orca. None of them seemed the least bit happy. They had been wishing for his arrival just yesterday, but they completely changed their attitudes the moment he actually arrived.

Niah listened to the servants’ conversation and carefully recalled the face of Orca, whom he had only seen for a brief moment. He wouldn’t have any reason to see the young master up close since his duties were limited to garden work and odd jobs, but he wanted to be prepared for any situation. It made no sense for him, a servant of the mansion, to not even know the face of the master.

The next day, Orca welcomed a leisurely morning while drinking the pre-meal tea prepared by Bailey. It had been a long time. After finishing his bath, he sat on the edge of the bed in comfortable daily attire. There was still warmth on his skin.

While low-temperature seawater was perfect for activity when in his beast form, it wasn’t bad to rest in warm water while in human form. He touched his lips to the edge of the teacup. The neatly brewed black tea went down his throat smoothly.

Orca got out of bed with an expressionless face. Sunlight flooded into the spacious room, which had no lights turned on. A cool breeze drifted in from the open window. His lukewarm skin cooled down. He thought that maybe this kind of thing was okay once in a while. Of course, the fact that he didn’t plan on staying long remained the same as yesterday. If he lived a life like this for too long, he might suffocate from boredom.

To him, comfort was poison. His childhood, spent living a daily life in the mansion, had been nothing but dull. It was only after graduating from the military academy and becoming a member of the border guard that his life became a little more interesting. Since he had been promoted to commander of the guard two years ago, if he called that his childhood, it was a memory from more than 10 years ago. Even that was now slowly losing half of its enjoyment.

Leaning against the window frame and looking down, he saw the busy servants looking like small dots. The scenery from the window, which offered a full view of the garden, bore no resemblance to the chaotic scenes he had seen over the past few years. The green leaves that had survived the winter were simply swaying in the breeze while soaking up the sunlight.

Orca savored his tea, using the peaceful landscape as a painting. No matter how long he had lived in the battlefield, the habits he had learned as a scion of the Wair family were ingrained in him.

Meanwhile, his sensitive hearing picked up the sound of footsteps coming and going inside and outside the mansion and the chirping of birds in the distance. Orca could hear noises from far away and see even the smallest objects even when he was human. Compared to the abilities of an orca, whose hearing and sight are highly developed, it was trivial, but it was enough to exhaust him as a human.

He focused on his human temperament and closed his ears as much as possible. If he tried not to hear, he could hear less. The surroundings gradually became quiet. He didn’t want to be disturbed by unauthorized noises. Only the small friction sound of him occasionally setting the teacup on the saucer broke the silence in the room. At least for now, he wanted to enjoy this stillness.

In war, the distinction between day and night was meaningless. He was never given this kind of leisure. Sometimes, he would roam the sea in his beast form for days. As he scouted the border with his nerves on edge, he would sometimes get confused about whether he was a beastman or just an orca.

Amidst the predator’s instincts, only a single thread of reason remained, biting into everything deemed an enemy. He couldn’t even count how many people, or how many creatures, he had killed in a single day. When that happened, his whole body would thrill. He couldn’t hide the excitement. He was simply intoxicated by raw instinct.

Beastmen are contradictory existences who are both human and animal, but the areas where instincts operate and their ability levels are bound to be skewed toward one side. This was particularly evident in aspects such as appearance, habits, and personality. While there were beastmen whose animal side was strongly manifested even when humanized, there were also beastmen whose human reason held stronger dominance than animal instinct even when they transformed into their beast form.

In Orca’s case, he was a perfect human shape when humanized. The problem was that everything other than his outward appearance was close to the nature of an orca. If he accidentally crossed the line, it would be irreversible. Everyone experiences such a phenomenon temporarily immediately after humanizing from a beast state, but for Orca, it remained permanently.

Because of this, he was like a mutant within the Wair family, a house that produced beastmen with a friendly nature toward all living creatures regardless of species. Orca was close to an orca even when he was human. He always had the eyes of an apex predator.

He always furrowed his brow and displayed a sharp attitude as if he were displeased by something. He did not tolerate things that bothered him. Perhaps for this reason, those who worked in the same area or Orca’s subordinates tried their best to please him. This was especially true when he was in his beast form.

When he was human, the dignity of his family and his reason held him back, but the same could not be guaranteed at sea. Of course, that was just a comparison, and one could not expect patience or mercy from him even when humanized.

Orca was strong not only under the sea but also in ground warfare using a sword. His horsemanship was also peerless and top-tier. Sometimes, on days when his reason was hazy, he would sharpen his teeth like an orca even in human form to bite into his opponents indiscriminately.

Orca would roam the battlefield in a blood-stained uniform, looking terrifying. Consequently, others both feared him and showed him blind devotion. It was an undeniable fact that his strength was desperately needed in the territorial wars that started immediately after one ended.

So, seeing Orca so relaxed was by no means a common occurrence. Even those who had spent years with him had never seen him smile. It would be fortunate if he were just expressionless, let alone smile.

Orca looked out the window while taking a sip of his tea. A clean, astringent taste spread to the tip of his tongue. He appreciated the mansion’s boring peace. Thinking that it was scenery he didn’t know when he would see again, it seemed worth looking at in its own way.

Beyond the windowpane, he spotted a servant diligently sweeping the garden’s stone path. It was clumsy for him to move waddling around with a broom longer than his own height.

Idiot.

Orca thought of the vulgar word without hesitation. Every time the idiot waddled, his faint orange-colored curly hair swayed as if dancing. It was a crude color, like thick pigment mixed with too much water. Orca moved his pupils, following the idiot who was gradually moving forward.

Looking closely, it wasn’t just his hair that was dancing. Moving his limbs about and waddling, he looked just like a fool who had come to a ball for the first time. Orca watched outside the window with a biting gaze as if looking at a cheap piece of art. He set down his lukewarm teacup and leaned his back against the window frame, stretching his body comfortably. That stupid sight was also pretty good as a spectacle to kill time.

“Niah! You idiot!”