There was a battle that could not be lost.
"Uooooooohhh!"
"Seiiiiiiii!"
Two women clashed, their war cries shaking the air.
One was Giant Warlord Ingie. Her skin gleamed like polished stone, and she loomed like a mountain given human shape. Every step split the ground; every swing of her fists carved the air so hard the mountains shuddered.
Her opponent was a golden-furred beastwoman: the "Giant Slayer," Warrior Leila. She was small—even for a beastfolk—but her strength was absurd. Her leaps cratered the ground, her punches toppled houses, and one flying kick was enough to send a giant ten times her size sprawling. The bell tied to her tail rang chirin-chirin with every movement.
Unfortunately, that meant the ordinary Giantkin civilians nearby—those still trapped in their neighborhood—were being flattened or shredded by the collateral damage.
Lich stood calmly at the sidelines, reviving the dead as they fell, watching with the air of a bored TA monitoring sparring practice. The fight had already lasted three days. The giant district was rubble.
"...Can we wrap this up soon? I'd really like to get back to my research."
Being a Lich meant no sleep, no fatigue. But also no interest in watching endless boss battles.
"Don't worry, Lich. I'll end it now," said Leila, spitting blood and glaring with fire in her eyes.
"Yes. That little runt will be crushed soon enough," Ingie growled, bits of her cracked stone skin crumbling off as she stared down at her tiny foe.
"I'll win—and reclaim the Giants' greatsword!"
"No. I'll win. As Giantkin, I cannot lose to something so small."
"Then come!"
"Come!!"
Their fists collided, shaking the ground. But then—crack, crack, crack. Ingie's rocky skin split apart, and her giant fist shattered.
"I did it! I won!!" Leila whooped.
"Ghh..."
Ingie dropped to her knees. Leila offered a hand.
"You fought well."
"...To lose, to someone so small... as a giant, to fall before a beastwoman..."
"That's your mistake right there."
"What do you mean?"
"Yes, you're big. Up close, sure. But from far away? Not so much."
"...?"
"Imagine someone watching us from the horizon. To them, size wouldn't matter."
"...I see."
Lich tilted his head. He didn't get it at all. But Leila and Ingie were staring at each other with mutual understanding, so apparently something profound had happened.
"My heart was small, then."
"Exactly."
"...Yes. You've opened my eyes. It's not body size that matters, but heart size. Truly... I've been defeated."
"Uh-huh. That's what I meant."
(She definitely didn't mean that, thought Lich, but he kept quiet. No way was he prolonging this conversation.)
"Then take it, small giant Leila—the greatsword of the Giants. From today, you're our Warlord."
"I'll lead you. Under me, the Giantkin will become the strongest race."
"Our general! Victory to Demonkin! Death to Humans!"
"Death to Humans!"
The crowd roared, raising fists. Even those Lich had just revived joined in.
"...So, are we done here?" Lich asked, deadpan.
Leila beamed. "Yes! With the greatsword back, I'm thrilled. It's perfectly balanced, totally indestructible—what a dream weapon! And Giants, oh, they're such a passionate people. I love it!"
"...That's nice. Lich feels utterly alone inside this hype-fest."
"What!? Can't you feel it? The heat of battle, the bond beyond species, the friendship forged in blood!"
"Numbers, please. Heat in joules per collision?"
"Lich."
"What."
"No words. Just vibes."
"...Yeah, I hate this kind of peer-pressure energy."
"Well, anyway, it was hot."
"...Fine. If that's what you think, go ahead. I don't get it."
"Hot! I worked so hard to win back that greatsword!"
"Technically it was theirs to begin with. So 'win back' seems inaccurate."
"Ugh! That's not the point!"
"Still don't get you. And it's too loud here to keep talking. Can we go home now?"
The Giants kept cheering, deafeningly so. Lich could've silenced them easily—but killing them just for being noisy felt excessive. Necromancy had that drawback: its "lightest touch" was still death.
"...Lich. You really don't get it, huh?"
"Get what. Also, must this talk happen here?"
"What was I just doing?"
"Fighting."
"Exactly. Fighting hard. I'm battered and bruised."
"Fine. I'll heal you now."
"No! Before healing—you're supposed to praise me!"
"...Why would I do that?"
"Because!"
"...?"
Leila reached into—well, who knew where—and pulled out a thin booklet.
"...What's this?"
"Read the cover."
"...'Leila's User Manual.'"
"Go on. It's only three pages."
"You're seriously okay with being summarized in three pages?"
"Don't overthink it. The manual says not to."
"...'Don't use difficult words, I'll sulk.' 'Praise me when I do well, I'll be happy.' 'Feed me lots, and I'll obey.' ...Wait, you'll obey with this level of power?"
"There's one more line, bottom of the cover."
"...'Warning: I only obey strong people. If weak people feed me, it means nothing.'"
"Understand now?"
"...You wrote this?"
"Rosalie did. I just thought, 'Yeah, that's accurate,' so I hand it out to people I'll follow."
"...Huh."
"So from now on, I'll follow you. Which means you have to follow the manual."
"And if I don't?"
"Then no food."
"...If I don't feed you, you'll... what, leave?"
"Yep. I'll just go to Humans. Can't fight on an empty stomach."
"...Fine. I'll feed you."
"Good. Then follow the conditions."
"...Can I delegate this to the Demon King?"
"If you beat her, sure."
Why was she so smug? Lich had no idea.
"...Whatever. I'll do it. She's my patron, not my babysitter."
"Great! Then praise me!"
"...Good job."
"Yaaay!"
Leila's tail bell jingled merrily. Lich felt a cold wind blow through his nonexistent heart.
"Leila, are you seriously satisfied with that?"
"Why not?"
"It was empty. No sincerity."
"Does sincerity matter?"
"People usually want heartfelt praise."
"But I'm bad at reading hearts. So I decided: no matter how sloppy the praise, I'll just treat it as sincere. It's more efficient."
"...That's... actually logical."
"Right? Same with food. Doesn't matter who gives it—it's still food. If there's heart, great. If it's tasty, even better. But the only thing that matters is: eat food, stay alive, keep fighting."
"...And shelter?"
"Eh, I can dig a hole, or sleep under someone's porch."
"That's a nuisance. Fine, I'll house you in the lab."
"But I don't get rent and deposit systems."
"...It's free."
"...Lich, you're too nice. You're gonna get scammed someday."
"...Pot, kettle," Lich thought, but only nodded vaguely.
"Alright, let's head home."
"Hmm. I don't like being told when to go home. Freedom is better. If I want to stay, I stay."
"...How did Hero even manage you?"
"No clue. Oh, but on battlefields, I'd just follow after him while picking up snacks from the ground. So maybe that."
"...Hero, you bastard," Lich muttered.
And with that, he decided the conversation was over. Leila trailed after him quietly... until she vanished.
Lich had gained a new warrior. A very difficult one.