Bear’s Honey Chapter 7: What a Ridiculous Dream

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 7: What a Ridiculous Dream

Translated by Addis of Exiled Rebels Scanlations

Editor: KarateChopMonkey

Still feeling a bit dazed, Alphard slowly sat up, his first thought being: What a ridiculous dream… With a groan, he realized his body felt light, propping himself up with his arms to sit up slowly. He remembered the last scene before he lost consciousness—a sight of the incubus riding on top of him, moaning loudly, and then everything went blank.

“…” Glancing at the blanket covering him, Alphard realized he was sleeping on the bed upstairs. But the bed wasn’t in its usual place—it had been dragged into the shadows formed by the bookshelf and wardrobe.

Apart from the area where Alphard lay resting, the rest of the second floor was bathed in sunlight. Through the large hole where the sunlight streamed in, Brand was humming a countryside tune, flapping his wings as he meticulously applied cement in mid-air.

Seeing Brand’s radiant smile, Alphard felt a surge of anger. He quietly lifted the blanket off the bed and descended the stairs to the first floor, unnoticed by Brand, who was engrossed in his work.

Alphard, who rarely felt hungry, was surprised to feel a strong urge to eat. The minimal food he usually consumed was only suitable for a low-vitality lifestyle. Still, the intense activity with Brand on the recliner last night had far exceeded his intake. His stomach, usually silent, grumbled loudly after many years, conveying an urgent need for food.

Looking at the tattered bag thrown on the living room carpet, Alphard hesitated momentarily. He didn’t want to take the food Brand brought back. But asking Brand if he could eat his reserve supplies upstairs was as difficult as asking him to dance in public. Alphard’s lips moved slightly, and ultimately, he reached out and opened the backpack.

Brand currently owed him and was a freeloader, so the food he brought back could be considered something Alphard could freely enjoy.

—That was how he persuaded himself. He rummaged through Brand’s bag, finding sliced bread, mixed nuts, beef jerky, and… a jar of honeyed jam.

Alphard rarely ate, and even less so sweets. But he felt a faint appetite for this jar that looked so sweet it made his throat ache. His human body still followed instinct, needing replenishment after expenditure, and sugar was the quickest and most straightforward way to get it.

He opened the jar.

It took Brand a full hour to realize Alphard had woken up. This couldn’t be blamed on him – the shadow he created was just too perfect; the bed seemed to blend into the darkness, impossible to see clearly without getting closer. Brand was still worried halfway through whether Alphard had slept too long, so he deliberately checked, only to find him not in bed.

He called out, “Alphard?” as he descended the stairs, seeing the wizard sitting on the sofa in the living room, reading a book, looking no different from yesterday, which eased Bran’s nerves,  “You woke up without even telling me! Do you want to go upstairs to read? Isn’t the corner in the shadow I created perfect? Then you can supervise from bed… Oh! Did you eat the honey jam and bread I brought back? I’m touched; you ate something… I also really like eating like that! You have great taste.”

Alphard closed his eyes. When Brand appeared, the empty floor became as noisy as a market. He didn’t need anyone to respond; he could go on for a long time.

“What happened to me last night?” Alphard glanced coldly at Brand and closed the book.

As Brand heard him ask, he nervously scratched his head, his tail swaying behind him: “Uh, you… you fell asleep.”

He was unconscious. Although not mastered much in language, Brand instinctively felt that men wouldn’t appreciate being told they were lacking in that aspect. Alphard fainting after one round was not something to be proud of.

Of course, Brand didn’t think much of it. Apart from the little flaw of not being able to fill his stomach in one go, from the taste of the shadow to the semen, Alphard was delicious in every way. And the Mage Tower was warm and soft; with no one else living here, he didn’t have to worry about the gaze of outsiders; he could boldly expose his horns and incubus tail, talk about “making love” and “semen” without being scolded for shamelessness… 

“I fell asleep, and then?” Alphard asked.

“Oh… then, then I lifted my butt first, hugged you, wanted to wake you up, but you seemed to be sleeping soundly, I got a little anxious, so I reached out and patted your face…”

So that fish was you. Alphard simmered with anger, glaring at Bran’s stupid face.

Not knowing where Alphard’s anger came from or not even realizing he was angry, Brand continued his performance: “After patting you, you seemed to sleep even more soundly! After giving you some water to drink and hearing your breathing steady, I thought you might wake up after sleeping enough, so I carried you to the bed upstairs and laid you flat, covered you with a blanket…”

“Then you moved the bed along with me to the corner? Do you only have semen swaying in your brain? Wouldn’t it be easier to move the bed and then the person?” Finding out he was being moved around like a piece of merchandise, Alphard started firing off sarcastic remarks, criticizing Bran’s intelligence.

“Hahaha! Don’t worry about me. Your weight on or off the bed makes no difference to me!” Brand laughed, flexing his well-trained biceps at Alphard.

“…”

Alphard’s lips twitched twice; Brand leaned in and asked him, “What did you say?”

“I said,” Alphard looked at Bran’s face, each word popping out, “get back, upstairs, to work.”

Brand sounded confused, not knowing how he had angered Alphard. But he could sense that the other wasn’t furious, just a little, well, displeased, and it should pass in a while, so to express his enthusiastic work spirit, he immediately turned around and jogged back, his heavy footsteps echoing with a thud thud on the stairs, reverberating in the Mage Tower.

… 

Spring turned into summer. Although Brand didn’t seem very reliable, his craftsmanship was quite good. He smoothed the mud and water extremely evenly, and if it weren’t for the obvious color difference between the new bricks and the original wall, he could almost make them look identical from the outside.

The original windows were smashed, so Brand set up a workbench in the backyard under the big hole on the second floor and crafted new window frames from sturdy wood he found in the trees of the back mountain, sawing, sanding, and nailing them together from scratch.

Even Alphard, who was extremely sparing with praise, faintly complimented his craftsmanship with a “not bad.”

This greatly boosted Bran’s confidence, and he hammered away more energetically daily.

Once it happened, it happened again. Brand attributed it to spring mating and the need for semen to replenish energy for labor. He and Alphard gradually developed a habit of not needing to explicitly state things between them. As long as it wasn’t too much, Alphard wouldn’t angrily shove him off as if he were excess baggage — not that he could shove him anyway.

Brand also didn’t dare to go too far, afraid that Alphard might faint again in bed, so he stopped after each session, mastering the art of utilizing what could be called renewable resources. He felt their time together these past few months had been very pleasant. Although every time after they finished, Alphard would inexplicably have him do some physical labor like mopping the floor or weeding the garden the next day, Brand accepted it gladly and didn’t see any problem with it.

The most serious time Alphard got angry was last month’s end. After eating several meals, Brand finally fulfilled his promise and let Alphard draw his blood. After getting the precious incubus blood, Alphard buried himself in the basement for research, not sleeping for several days, not even taking a bite of food, resting briefly on the table when he was tired.

Brand quietly went downstairs and saw Alphard’s exhausted sleeping posture. Thinking about how he had relied on this great wizard for food and drink during this time, he was determined to repay him. So, he found a pot that looked suitable for cooking, set it up on the ground in the backyard with branches and rocks he found, and stewed a large pot of fragrant venison and vegetable soup.

Everything seemed normal when he brought the food to Alphard. Although he hesitated long, Alphard still ate all the food, and Brand felt proud and elated. But when he mentioned which pot he had used to stew the soup, Alphard completely lost his temper — that was the important crucible he used to refine necromantic elixirs!

Hurriedly putting on his hooded robe, Brand went to the backyard, but it was already late. The fire hadn’t been extinguished when he returned excitedly after ladling the soup. All Alphard saw was the soup burnt dry in the pot, the pot bottom turned black, and the vegetable leaves dried and stuck to the pot wall.

Brand was scolded severely and lost his right to reside indoors, being thrown out of the Mage Tower. But three days later, he forgave him when Alphard went out and saw him sitting on the steps next to the skeleton dog, both quietly watching the sunset in the sky.

Back in the tower, Alphard didn’t mention only allowing him in the living room again, but he put warning labels on the important crucibles and materials in the basement that read, Don’t touch anything.

“…”

Despite Alphard’s cold exterior, he was a good person… As Brand thought about completing the walls and windows, he felt waves of disappointment in his heart, and his tail drooped down. Could he intentionally damage the walls again to occasionally prolong the construction status? Or would Alphard truly be furious and throw him out forever this time?

“Oh!” Brand felt something brush against his tail and turned around in surprise.

“Isn’t this Little Bone? Are you here to play in the backyard? Standing guard at the door must be boring; no guests ever come. It’s okay to slack off secretly; I won’t tell Alphard.”

Last time, when they were stuck outside together, Brand took the liberty of naming it. Alphard said it was just a wild dog corpse found in the wilderness with no name, so Brand started calling it “Little Bone.” Although Alphard mentioned that the intelligence of the skeleton dog was far lower than that of a regular living dog, except for commands from Brand, it couldn’t understand human speech, and Brand obviously didn’t think so, still insisting on calling it that way.

Little Bone stood in the center of the backyard momentarily, then wandered around. After ending its patrol, no longer feeling lonely with Bran’s presence, it turned its hollow sockets towards Brand and swayed its tail twice as if angrily shouting: I’m not here to play; this is patrolling!

Then, it circled the tower from another direction and returned to its front gate duty.