Bear’s Honey Chapter 2: He Just Wanted to Fix the Wall

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

 

Chapter 2: He Just Wanted to Fix the Wall

Translated by Addis of Exiled Rebels Scanlations

Editor: KarateChopMonkey

The writer has something to say: It’s clear you really care about your wall.

——— 

The robust, bear-like male incubus was restricted in movement by a confinement spell, now kneeling beside the couch in the living room on the ground floor, wearing an uneasy expression as he attempted to strike up a conversation with the silent Alphard, who had not uttered a word since earlier.

They had relocated mainly because the entire second floor was currently experiencing excessively good ventilation.

After being escorted downstairs by two zombie guards, the incubus, who introduced himself as Brand, surprisingly honest, quickly explained his origins and the cause and effect of his crimes. He was a rare hybrid offspring of an incubus and a male bear Therian. Following the incubus tradition of birthing without raising, Brand’s mother gladly treated her child as a farewell gift, much like a cookie, and casually went back to hell or wherever she came from.

In the village where bear Therians coexisted with humans, children were nurtured by females, and Brand’s father suddenly became a local celebrity, which made him feel quite humiliated and subsequently affected his attitude towards his son.

In short, Brand’s childhood was not smooth. In a bear Therian society where the average lifespan was shorter than that of humans, Brand, with demon blood in him, grew slowly, and he lacked the bear Therian’s ears and tail, replaced by short demon horns and a peculiar long tail, which became the reasons for his ostracism by his peers.

The most fatal aspect was that, after puberty, Brand gradually lost control of the “appetite” brought by his incubus bloodline and began unwittingly tempting male members of his kind, and indeed succeeded a few times… Soon, however, his promiscuous behavior was exposed, and he was expelled as a disgrace to his tribe.

Brand, who wasn’t very vengeful, didn’t hold a grudge against his tribe. After feeling sad for a while, he forgot the past unpleasantness and embarked on an aimless, lonely journey, only for the sake of filling his stomach.

As his body developed, he became more and more like a male bear, with thick thighs and broad chest muscles. The advantage was that he could help with many agricultural tasks in any village he went to, such as harvesting, planting, bricklaying, and woodcutting. Brand could exchange his labor for food, but the other kind of “food” was harder to come by.

A robust male was definitely not the mainstream aesthetic in human villages. Many men had considered marrying off their beautiful and gentle daughters to this capable outsider, so they treated him quite well. It was just that they never expected to find the young man climbing into their beds in the middle of the night… Brand had been driven out of the village into the wilderness several times because of similar incidents.

Lacking education, he eventually learned some things through experience, such as: Don’t eat men with children; don’t eat men with wives; don’t eat men who clearly like curvaceous figures… 

There were very few viable options for him to eat.

Brand arrived in the area during this hungry winter, and like most bear Therians, he would hibernate between the months of White Grass (December) and the month of Flower Bloom (March). He gnawed on many wild animals in the forest, including lake fish and aquatic plants, before hastily finding a small hole to curl up and sleep in.

As for what happened afterward… 

Brand said a lot, saying everything he could. He kept looking up at Alphard, seeking some reaction, but Alphard didn’t utter a word or show any inclination to divulge personal information, just quietly listening in the darkness.

Finally, in a grim tone, Alphard said that none of this was a reason to damage the Mage Tower. The humans who had once trespassed into his Mage Tower were now grim-faced zombies hanging in the basement, and Brand could go down and visit them if he wished.

Brand immediately lowered his head, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I’ll help you fix the wall! I’m very handy with work! So, um, Alphard…”

“Alphard Hydras.” Repeating his full name solemnly once again, Alphard glanced displeasingly at the rude intruder.

Brand had already retracted his wings, his tail drooping limp on the ground. Knowing he couldn’t get any semen to eat, he stopped swaying excitedly and became this dejected figure.

He didn’t dress like a typical incubus at all. Although his chest muscles and biceps were strong and full, stretching the hemp shirt to its limit, the clothes themselves were tattered, gray, and rolled at the edges, looking more like those worn by laborers hired by noble families. Did this guy really think he could seduce humans with this appearance?

“Where are your incubus form clothes? Your dream invasion and illusion magic?” Alphard sat on the couch, asking with a sideways glance. Of course, he wasn’t expecting any of that. It was just that mages were always curious about unfamiliar magical creatures.

It was mentioned in the books that incubi could transform into the ideal sexual object of their target’s fantasies and enter their dreams to seduce them, and their attire would be determined accordingly. After several attempts, once they understood the desires of their targets, they would come themselves to enjoy the fruits of their labor.

“Huh? What? What’s dream invasion magic?” Brand asked in confusion.

Alphard didn’t want to look at Brand’s foolish face. He shouldn’t have asked. Was this rare mixed-blood incubus worth studying? Perhaps it would be better to use him as material instead…?

But he did need to repair the walls on the second floor. Alphard had no intention of doing it himself; he didn’t even know how to lay bricks or mix mortar. Bringing human workers to his Mage Tower from outside was unacceptable—he’d sooner let his skeletal dog help with the repairs than go down the mountain to find someone.

Alphard stood up.

Brand, sitting on the ground, looked up.

“We’ll start repairs tomorrow,” Alphard said coldly.

“No problem!” Brand breathed a sigh of relief. That was a good thing as long as he was still willing to let him make amends.

Alphard took a few steps, intending to return to his familiar bed to rest. Suddenly, he paused, remembering that his bedroom was currently unusable. He stiffly changed direction, deciding to take a rest on the chaise lounge in the basement, putting an end to this farcical night.

Thinking of the main culprit behind all this, the obstructive bear incubus in front of him, Alphard’s tone became impatient. “You’ll sleep here. On the floor. Don’t touch my sofa.”

As the spellcaster walked away, the restraining spell was automatically lifted. Alphard’s figure disappeared at the turning point of the staircase, descending downward.

The two zombie guards, their faces gone, stood on either side. They relied on necromantic magic to maintain their commands without any capacity for thought. They could execute tasks continuously for up to twenty-four hours.

“Are you just going to stand there like that? I’m not going to run away. You can take a seat for a while,” Brand said, still concerned about the corpses. Of course, they didn’t respond to him.

After waiting for a while and seeing no response, he found a comfortable spot and lay back down. Although Alphard had left, he hadn’t extinguished the small fireplace on the first floor. The living room was much warmer than the outdoors in the forest. Beneath him was a deep red carpet with beige patterns, and Brand excitedly rubbed it with his hand—it must be expensive!

His stomach growled again, and Brand’s enthusiasm waned. With no other humans nearby, how would he fill his stomach? He sighed softly, closed his eyes, and tried to drive away the deep hunger with sleep.

Tomorrow’s problems could wait until tomorrow! Brand had always relied on this unchanging truth to get by so he could still live optimistically until now.

… 

Alphard didn’t enter deep meditation on the chaise lounge. Alphard’s strict rules extended to small matters; for example, meditation required lying flat on the bed, sorted materials had to be placed in the appropriate drawers, and the knife used for dissection was not to be used for cutting bread—each tool had its designated purpose.

The angle of the chaise lounge wasn’t suitable for meditation. Coming to this conclusion, Alphard returned to his alchemical crucible and continued to work on grinding some foul-smelling flesh and bone into powder.

The bluish flames cast an even paler hue on his face. His once light ash-colored hair had gradually lost its pigment with the practice of necromantic magic, fading to a grayish-white. He mechanically stirred with a long-handled spoon, devoid of vitality, as time passed quietly and slowly.

Suddenly, he felt a disturbance.

In a sense, the zombies and skeletons controlled by necromantic magic were an extension of the mage’s mental energy. If anything unexpected happened in the tower, Alphard, focused on his research in the basement, would be aware of it.

“What kind of antics does that barbaric-looking incubus bear dare to pull?” Alphard impatiently set down the long-handled spoon, pausing his stirring. He decided to see the guy who had slept on the floor all night—just because he heard Brand’s pitiful backstory didn’t mean he felt sorry for him. Intruders should be prepared to face the consequences.

As he ascended the stairs, Alphard vaguely heard some strange sounds.

“Ha… ah… ah… mmm…”

“Oh, this isn’t good… can’t… can’t ejaculate…”

“Ah, ah…”

Alphard thought for a moment that his Mage Tower had gotten into another unwanted guest, getting it on with the incubus. Why else would a man moaning come from his quiet, pretty living room? Alphard’s eyebrows furrowed subtly. The staff in his hand shifted slightly. If that were the case, he wouldn’t mind making two air-dried corpses to hang up.

Yet there wasn’t another outsider in the parlor.

The two zombie guards responsible for guarding Brand stood frozen in place. They hadn’t picked up the signal that Brand was trying to escape, so that they wouldn’t react in any way other than that.

Brand lay curled up on his side on the carpet, one hand lifting the hem of his shirt to stroke his skin and ‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍breasts on his chest, stroking his penis up and down. The thing was already bubbling at the tip, and it looked like it was going to ‍cum‍‍‍ in the next second. 

Alphard paused. His solitary life began early, probably before he was ten. He’d actually seen quite a few genitals besides his own in a variety of molds, with the common denominator being that they were all dead. That wasn’t the point. The point was why Brand, who was supposed to be a demon with his tail between his legs after being restricted in his freedom, was so tension-free that he was ‍comforting himself‍ on the living room floor of someone else’s house.

“Oooh, mmmmmm… gotta stop…” Half of Brand’s face was pressed into the carpet, the muscles in his back and arms tightening with pleasure, his massive body trembling slightly.

After the harsh winter came spring, having bear Therian blood, he had unfortunately inherited their annual rut.

Could ‍self-comfort ‍ejaculation‍‍‍ semen‍‍‍‍‍ help? Or would it just add to his hunger? Brand, who was not good at thinking about causes and consequences, was at a fork in the road where it was difficult to decide whether to continue or call it quits in time.

Amid a flurry of thoughts, he heard the sound of footsteps made by shoes on a wooden floor.

Brand wasn’t as shy as he should be about being seen in a ‍self‍-comfort scene–he was an incubus–just opened his mouth and let out a low, husky greeting, “Alphar… no, Mr. Hydras.”

Alphard, who was wearing mage robes and had just been working with alchemical products, was tainted with an unspeakable odor of decay. But to Brand’s eyes, as he looked upwards, he seemed like a huge honey-white toast emitting aroma.

Alphard clasped his hands to his chest, raised his eyebrows, and blinked hard with a speechless expression, “Starving to death and still have the energy to masturbate?”

“…I’m really hungry,” Brand replied with immense sincerity but didn’t withdraw his grip on his penis, as if it was difficult to choose between them.

In this rather eerie scene, Alphard fell silent momentarily, turning his head to look out the window where the sun had already risen, the annoying glaring sunlight seeping through the glass. The bedroom on the second floor now lacked walls, presumably basking in the same intense sunlight. The smell of the sun would ruin his bedroom.

“When do you plan to start repairing the walls?”

Brand murmured from his throat, “Can I have something to eat first?”

“…There’s black bread in the cellar. Nothing else in the Tower.”

“Bread will do!”

Alphard remained silent, turning his head slightly to the zombie guard, muttering indistinct commands. The blurred face of the corpse responded strangely, dragging its heavy footsteps to the cellar to fetch black bread.

Another returned outside, moving slowly and stiffly under the sunlight, walking to the edge of a pit in the yard, climbing into the coffin, and quietly returning to death once again.

The skeletal guard dog peeked in, silently observing the scene in the living room. It probably couldn’t understand the situation, so it decisively withdrew.

With the temptation of black bread, Brand finally briefly forgot about self-gratification, put on his pants, washed his hands seriously, and sat cross-legged on the floor, wolfing down the food. He devoured the tasteless rye bread with relish, and just looking at it, the rich aroma of wheat seemed to overflow between his lips and teeth.

Alphard watched as the pack of black bread, enough for him to eat for half a year, disappeared in Brand’s mouth at lightning speed, and the latter still wore a satisfied expression. Alphard immediately said, “I only prepared half a pack for you. The remaining half will be recorded on your account, and you’ll have to repay me later.”

“Oh, did I eat too much? Sorry about that. I’ll go to the nearby town to buy more for you later… Um, thank you for the hospitality; I haven’t eaten such delicious food since hibernation.” Brand opened his mouth wide, swallowing the last piece of bread, then gulped down a water basin. Alphard needed help to lend his cup to others; only one cup was in the Mage Tower, and the container Brand used was originally for storing viscera in the cellar. He could gnaw on wild animals, so he shouldn’t mind such trivial matters.

Having filled his stomach, Brand’s hunger was no longer for food but for something else, a kind of “hunger” that remained unsatisfied. He crawled from the floor to Alphard’s feet, abandoning the attempt to climb up the latter’s legs under his vigilant gaze, and instead gently rested his chest against Alphard’s shins.

Alphard, who hadn’t touched a living person in who knows how many years, felt goosebumps all over his body.

“Um, could you give me a little… semen? Just a little. We don’t have to have sex; I can manage with just my mouth,” Brand explained with an embarrassed smile, “As a half-breed, eating and absorbing spiritual energy are essential, but luckily, I don’t need much. If it’s not enough… I’m afraid my efficiency in repairing the walls will be very low.”

Alphard had originally intended to kick him away but hesitated upon hearing the last sentence. Do you not need much? He glanced at the black bread that had been devoured. However, considering his small appetite and the lack of a normal measure for the consumption of living beings, Alphard had no standard measure of appetite for living creatures.

“I… I heard there’s something special about incubus blood.” Seeing Alphard’s attitude soften, Brand quickly pressed on. “I don’t know what else I can offer. I can give you blood or even cut off some flesh for you without affecting the repair of the walls! I have a particularly strong recovery ability. Uh, but not the internal organs…” 

“…” Incubus blood and flesh… were indeed very rare. Worth researching. Considering regeneration and the fact that no one would repair the walls on the second floor, Alphard had no intention of killing Brand for research. He hesitated for a few seconds, pondering without answering.

Brand’s eyes immediately lit up, interpreting it as tacit approval. His tail, drooping all night, now uncontrollably stood erect, wagging excitedly left and right. Then, like a tendril, it coiled around Alphard’s ankle, soft and flexible.

“Don’t judge me by my appearance; I’m quite skilled,” Brand boasted, lifting his hips from the ground and squeezing his large body between the slender legs of the necromancer.

He eagerly knelt, leaning in to press his furry, curly-haired head near Alphard’s waist, roughly and quickly undoing the belt with his teeth. He had a pair of prominent canine teeth, a bit thicker than a dog’s but not as sharp as those of purebred animals.

Even though one was kneeling and the other sitting, Brand’s size still made Alphard feel somewhat cramped. Most incubi were rumored to be charming, soft, and voluptuous — but not in this sense! Without his staff, judging solely by the physical aspect, Alphard probably couldn’t have overpowered even a teenager. He could hardly move with such a burly man holding onto his thighs with one hand each.

Suddenly, Alphard regretted his earlier indecision.