Bear’s Honey Chapter 1: He Was Scratched by the Large Incubus

This is a short story by the same author as Home of the Zerg that I decided to do for my birthday. So I hope you enjoy this birthday release from me.

-Addis

 

Bones Slathered With the Bear’s Honey

 by Heng Heng

Chinese Information:蜂蜜拌白骨

By：哼哼

Year: 2024

Genre: BL, necromancer, hentai, yaoi, NSFW, short

Novel Status in Country of Origin: 16 Chapters (Complete)

Translator: Addis

Editor: KarateChopMoneky

~~~~Brought to you by ExR~~~~

SUMMARY:

The necromancer Alphard discovered more animal corpses in the mountains behind this winter compared to previous years. Soon after, upon returning to Mage Tower, he encountered an unexpected “terror attack.” 

–A short novel about a frail undead mage (not in good physical shape) versus a half-bear, half-incubus hybrid (not very intelligent).

Chapter 1: He Was Scratched by the Large Incubus.

Translated by Addis of Exiled Rebels Scanlations

Editor: KarateChopMonkey

 

Tall trees blocked out much of the faint light cast by the pale sky, their shadows looming like elongated specters, standing silently. Fresh footprints, a mixture of mud and snow, marked the white ground gradually melting under the winter sun. A cloaked figure moved slowly through the quiet winter valley, searching for creatures forever trapped in the last snowstorm due to their carelessness.

Most would mistake him for a pitiful human nearing death from the cold. After all, he appeared to have endured starvation, with a pale complexion, lips lacking color, and cheeks slightly hollowed from thinness—if he weren’t holding a skull-topped staff burning with a pale green flame in his hand.

Carrying a staff made of bones seemed fitting. After all, Alphard was a necromancer; one could expect anything from his appearance. Alphard picked up what seemed to be the remains of a raccoon from the ground, its body torn apart, flesh mangled, and frozen solid, left lying in the snow, “Another one… Bones are still intact.” 

As a necromancer who didn’t venture out much but spent years studying magic in his studio, he greatly demanded materials. The dim sunlight of winter was the perfect season for a necromancer who disliked sun exposure to go out; he would set aside his research and go out himself, leaving the less intelligent zombies and skeletons to do the work in other seasons.

This winter was no different from the past dozen years, except that there seemed to be more wild animal carcasses in the mountains. Half-eaten fish were found several miles from the lake in the snowy wilderness. Had some particularly fierce beasts migrated here?

For an advanced undead mage who had mastered sixth-circle magic, ordinary beasts wouldn’t pose any threat unless they were legendary creatures. Alphard didn’t dwell on it; he emotionlessly tossed the stiff animal corpse into a burlap bag and roughly dragged it back to the Mage Tower.

Alphard’s Mage Tower wasn’t far; this three-story tall, deep gray Gothic tower stood secluded and safely nestled halfway up the suburban mountainside. It would take a day and a night to walk to the nearest village, and it was unlikely to be stumbled upon by passing travelers unless they were specifically looking for it.

He hadn’t built it, but it was his now. Regardless, Alphard was quite satisfied with this residence he had lived in for over a decade.

“…” A small skeletal dog sat at the entrance of the Mage Tower. Sensing Alphard, the owner of the Mage Tower, it quickly stood up and moved back and forth briskly.

Without facial features or a tongue, it was difficult for ordinary people to interpret its current reaction—most likely some form of happiness?… If skeletal dogs had emotions.

Alphard paid it no mind, giving it a glance before dragging the bag inside, seeming somewhat indifferent. Although he longed to sleep, Alphard still dragged his weary body to the basement. There lay his material repository, where these frozen corpses would eventually thaw due to the indoor temperature, making a mess of the foyer with their blood. He would manually thaw them for drying or processing.

He was eager to advance, even if it meant a day sooner… 

After three days of relentless dedication in the basement, Alphard’s already pale complexion became even more ghastly. His eyes were dark, and he felt a hint of hunger, having gone about a week without food.

Alphard ate some dry bread stored in the warehouse and drank a glass of water, then returned to the lounge on the second floor of the high tower, lying down on his bed, which was as hard and plain as a coffin.

The pursuit of necromancers was, of course, to become liches, beings akin to gods. It was rumored that once they reached that stage, they would transcend human desires and flesh, no longer needing sleep or food. However, the existence of liches had never been confirmed; perhaps it was just a legend.

Of course, many believed that becoming a lich would allow them to traverse between planes, venturing into the deeper realms of the dead, hence leaving no trace of liches on the continent. Alphard was one of the believers in this school of thought.

When spring came, this rarely quiet forest would disappear. Although animals wouldn’t approach too close due to the heavy aura of death from the Mage Tower, the distant mountains still echoed with the calls of birds and animals, making people restless.

With his hands folded across his chest, Alphard entered meditation solemnly, his soul drifting in the darkness lit by countless dim fires, becoming a moth fluttering over the colossal skeletal remains resembling a continent… He referred to this kind of void meditation as “sleep.”

Meanwhile, the accumulated snow in the forest was visibly melting. Regardless of one’s preferences, spring always arrived; it was an immutable law of the world. From a hole covered with weeds, dry twigs, and pebbles emerged a disheveled man.

Or should it be said… a demon? A robust male with black demon horns and a slender tail emerged from the tiny hole. His deep brown curls were disheveled, and his physique resembled that of a well-trained brown bear. Anyone could tell that he had been quite uncomfortable in the small cave, which didn’t match his height, as he stretched his limbs dramatically upon leaving.

Upon closer inspection, one would notice blood from some unknown creature at the corners of his mouth. His demon horns were slightly shorter and rounder than those of ordinary demons, and the end of his tail wasn’t pointed but suspiciously shaped like a heart.

“So hungry…” The young man swallowed hard and muttered to himself. He crouched down, stretching his arm back into the cave, and pulled out a backpack no larger than his buttocks, containing a water bottle and a rusty knife that was no longer of any use.

It’s spring now, and I can find a village to help with work and get a new one. Have I been sleeping for months? Ah. So hungry… The man muttered to himself, his stomach growling. He looked around to see if there were any small animals he could directly gnaw on, like squirrels, but suddenly… he sensed something in the air!

He wrinkled his nose and sniffed, then showed a look of great excitement. Very faint… but definitely the scent of a human male! Nearby!

Near the shoulder blades of the robust man’s back, something resembling leaves grew, and he unfurled his black leathery wings belonging to the demon race. Compared to his physique, the wings weren’t huge, but they were usable.

But because he was so hungry, the man flapped his wings a few times, keeping himself about 30 centimeters off the ground, and a deep fatigue quickly surged over him. He frowned in contemplation, ultimately deciding to retract his wings and walk over with his feet. At least this way, he wouldn’t starve to death halfway there.

… 

Everything was as usual this March night. The outer walls of the Mage Tower were covered with vegetation, ivy, and weeds, making its silhouette extremely concealed in the mountains. Of course, the fact that it wasn’t illuminated by torches in the dark night was also one of the reasons why it had no presence.

In the tranquil tower, Alphard lay with his hands folded across his chest, his face as pale as a corpse. Wandering as an ugly moth in the spiritual meditation of the quasi-death realm sounded like a form of torture, but for a necromancer who sought to embrace death and abandon the flesh, it was a profound form of practice.

Boom!

Alphard suddenly opened his eyes. He sat up straight—the temperature in his cold and comfortable Mage Tower had dropped to a level even a necromancer couldn’t quite tolerate. If he wasn’t mistaken, he was sure the cold breeze blowing on him came from outside. Alphard slowly turned his head towards the source of the wind.

His bedroom, one of the few things he cherished—the proud Mage Tower’s second floor—had now been torn open by a hole over a meter in diameter. The originally inset windows were now missing… Although Alphard never opened them for ventilation, that shouldn’t have been a reason for the windows being violently removed like this.

A robust man, or rather, a robust demon creature, knelt awkwardly on the ground. His small wings and arm muscles presented a stark contrast, weakly hanging behind him. The creature slowly lifted his head, meeting the now fully awake and cold gaze of Alphard, his face immediately showing a look of awkward remorse.

“I-I was trying to politely pick the lock to come in. But your windows seemed welded shut, and the little knife was hard to use, so I tried to knock.” he stammered.

There was a third-circle minor magic on the window. Just a precautionary measure against wild animals, not difficult to bypass. But it seemed this demon had used brute force to knock down the entire window, along with the ancient wall of the Mage Tower, leaving a large hole, allowing the cold wind and moonlight to pour in. He was quite strong, this barbarian from the demon race?

Alphard hadn’t communicated with anyone from the outside world in many years. He opened his mouth, emitting a dry, hoarse voice, “A demon… no, actually a thief from the incubus clan? To actually have designs on this place, that’s not a wise choice.” 

The intruder vigorously shook his tail, its end swaying like a heart. He widened his eyes as if not expecting to be recognized at first sight. Then, he slowly noticed the many peculiar alchemical items hanging from the ceiling of the room, the spine hook by the bedside with a robe that only mages would wear, and a strange staff. It dawned on him that the person in front of him was likely a powerful mage from the look of things.

“Do you know what an incubus is? Were you a mage before? No wonder there’s a human living in these deep mountains. This room looks so cool.”

Alphard paused for a moment. He hadn’t expected the intruder to show excitement rather than trembling in fear after seeing everything in the room. It was well known that necromancers had a terrible reputation; they were cruel, inhumane, and merciless, capable of torturing enemies to the brink of death.

It seemed he had been underestimated. Alphard expressionlessly picked up the staff from the bedside and began chanting without hesitation. A fourth-circle spell, Withering Curse.

“W-Wait, I didn’t mean any harm! I just smelled a very delicious scent, so I broke in without permission. I’ve been hibernating for months, and I’m so hungry, so… I’m sorry. I’ll compensate you for the damage to your house. Please don’t kill me!”

“…” The plea for mercy was quite decisive. Alphard stopped chanting, but his focus was not quite normal. “A delicious scent? Huh, are you talking about the corpses in the cellar? Rotting entrails? Formaldehyde? You truly have a morbid taste for a demon…”

The robust incubus with short horns had the look of someone who had just found treasure, his wings briefly flapping a couple of times as he loudly and deeply called out, “No, it’s you! Your scent! Please, I’ve been starving all winter; I’m on the brink of death; I need human… essence… Can you give me some?” 

“…?” Alphard’s body swayed slightly in the night breeze. He raised an eyebrow and blinked forcefully, a look of trying to clear his mind. This was likely the most vivid expression he had made in decades.