The Malicious Butterfly
A corner introducing the monsters lurking around Legol.
First up, the hall-of-fame regular: Crazy Boar.
In other words, wild boars. The same creatures that, when domesticated, become pigs.
Normally, they’re managed by livestock farmers, but every once in a while, a particularly vicious one will break through cages and fences with unexpected strength and return to the wild. Those are the ones called Crazy Boars—basically, they’re pretty much the equivalent of wild boars from my past life.
I’ve never fought a wild boar in my past life, so I can’t say for sure, but I imagine their combat abilities are roughly the same. The only difference is that these Crazy Boars clearly move with murderous intent, like they genuinely despise humans. In that sense, they’re probably even more troublesome.
Next up is the forest’s assassin: Charge Deer.
In other words, deer. The difference between these and regular deer is that their antlers grow straight forward—perfect for headbutting—and they actively charge at you with them. Unlike the deer in my past life’s Japan, these don’t flee in fear of humans. And yet, they’re still herbivores.
The problem is how lethally sharp those antlers are. Every year, multiple people—even guild members—are killed by them. Considering their attack method and weight, it’s practically the same as a cavalry charge. The only saving grace is that they don’t travel in large herds.
And then there’s the real pain in the ass… Evil Fly.
These guys aren’t encountered as often as the previous two, but when you do run into them, they’re the absolute worst.
Evil Flies are large butterfly-type monsters, with wingspans reaching up to a meter. Their wings are silver, but depending on the angle of the light, they can appear black or purple.
They appear between spring and summer, drawn to the nectar of the giant flowers blooming in the Baroa Forest.
Now, Evil Flies don’t use wind magic to slice you apart with razor winds or attack you with air slashes.
No, the real problem is the special poison laced in the scales they scatter. If you breathe those in… that’s when the trouble starts.
The effect? Delayed memory loss.
The severity depends on how much you inhale, but those hit by their scales will lose chunks of their memory seconds or even minutes later. It could be just a few minutes’ worth… or several hours.
It might not sound like much, but… surprisingly, this can be fatal for humans.
“They said it was friendly fire.”
“Turns out Evil Fly scales got on their clothes. Newbie party, too… just bad luck for them.”
That day, after finishing up some small-fry extermination, I spent the time waiting for my completion certificate at the butcher’s shop shooting the breeze with the old man in charge.
That’s when they arrived—a young man and woman, both badly injured, and a panicked guy trailing behind them. Following them was an escort of veteran adventurers.
“…An Evil Fly, huh. Guess the spring small-game hunts are wrapping up.”
Butterfly monsters don’t have much in the way of harvestable parts. The only proof of extermination is their soft compound eyes.
To a dismantler like me, they’re just another monster to inspect for distinctive features. But the infamy of the Evil Fly is well-known throughout the city.
“Hold them steady. The bleeding’s bad. Stay focused.”
“They won’t die, don’t worry. Lucky for them… though whether that arm will ever move again is another story…”
The Evil Fly’s scales erase memories with a delay.
For example, inhaling them might make you lose “the last hour of your memory” a minute later.
At first glance, it doesn’t sound that scary.
Just a little memory loss. That’s all, right?
The Evil Fly itself has no real combat ability, and the memory loss is just a stalling tactic to buy time for it to escape. The scales themselves aren’t lethal.
Which means the ones who kill those exposed to the scales aren’t the monsters.
It’s the malice hidden within the people around them.
“N-No way! I didn’t do it! Something that horrible…!”
“…No use. You’re involved too. We’re detaining you for now. …Not sure if you’re lucky or not.”
“Believe me! I don’t remember anything! It must’ve been a monster nearby!”
“…We’ll figure that out during the investigation.”
The victims were two men and one woman. What was their party name again… “Bonds of”—no, can’t remember.
“Patients over here. You—wait in the holding cell.”
“Please, I swear it wasn’t me…!”
The rookies were each taken to separate locations.
…Just another typical scene after an Evil Fly incident. At least they were lucky—no deaths this time.
“The Malicious Butterfly, Evil Fly. …Every time I see comrades turning on each other, it’s ugly as hell. Pitiful, really.”
For a dismantler who isn’t a party, I suppose that’s how it seems. Hard to relate. But that’s just how it is—even the victims themselves don’t have clear memories.
The Evil Fly is a butterfly that drags out the malice in people’s hearts.
Its notoriety is such that every guild member knows about it.
And that’s precisely why, when encountering this butterfly, people awaken the malice buried deep within themselves.
I want to get rid of that annoying guy in the party.
I want to steal his lover.
I want to assault the woman in the party.
I want his weapon.
I want money.
The reasons vary. The Evil Fly is a monster that pardons such malice.
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The memories disappear after a set time. That means any injuries, any murders—all of it is forgotten. And so, some take advantage of this to kill whichever party member they “never liked.”
As a solo, I don’t get it. But… cases like this are depressingly common.
For most parties, I guess that’s just how it is.
For those with latent wickedness, it’s the perfect opportunity to eliminate nuisances. That’s what the season of the Evil Fly’s flight truly brings.
“Alright, then.”
“What’s up, Mongrel? Leaving?”
“Nah, heading back to Baroa Forest.”
“…Evil Fly?”
“Yeah. Gonna exterminate them. Mind being my witness that I left at the fifth bell? The guild’ll send a team sooner or later. I’ll go ahead and clean up any survivors. No risk for me—I’m alone anyway.”
“Sure, no problem, but…”
“Report to the guild for me. Pass the message along to that party too.”
I left the butcher’s shop and immediately exited through the city gates.
The Evil Fly is the worst kind of monster. All it does is amplify the petty malice lurking in everyone’s hearts and push them toward atrocity.
No amount of experience as a guild member makes you immune to its power. Even veteran parties have crumbled over minor discord.
The only thing tested is the true bonds within the party. And those bonds? They’re damn hard to prove.
The solution is simple. Kill every last Evil Fly. That’s all there is to it.
“Just a damn bug getting too full of itself. Thought I wiped them out thoroughly last year, but guess they weren’t extinct yet.”
I pulled out a thin sheet of parchment from my pocket and scribbled down a note in ink:
“Left East Gate at the fifth bell to go slaughter those damn Evil Flies.”
If you’re unlucky enough to inhale the scales, memory loss is inevitable. The best countermeasure? Take notes. Record your actions in detail. That way, even if you lose your memory, you won’t be left confused.
“Killing butterflies is my specialty.”
When it comes to physical enhancement, I’m the strongest in this city.
And even if I do get hit by the scales, I’m confident I won’t kill anyone—and that no one will kill me.
Alright then, time to exterminate them at full power—as long as no one’s watching.
Let’s chop-chop those little Evil Flies into confetti.
“Huh!?”
The next thing I knew, I was standing at the forest’s edge. The sky was dusk. My body… had leaves and seeds stuck to it, and my sleeves were dusted with silver scales.
Seems like everything was already over when I came to.
Well, that’s just how it always is with Evil Flies… Nothing to be done. Inhale the scales, lose your memory. I’m no exception. Cloth masks don’t work either, so what can you do…
That said, while there’s no sense of accomplishment, there’s not much exhaustion either. Call it a draw.
“Probably killed a decent number, but who knows? Guess I’ll check the results…”
I pulled out the parchment note from my pocket to see what past-me had accomplished before the memory wipe.
“Evil Flies exterminated: 17”
“Gift used once. Efficiency was good, my bad.”
“…Oh, come on—wait, that’s me. But still, using a Gift in a place like this?! Score’s insane though… damn…”
Seventeen kills? That’s nuts. Were there really that many?
And “efficiency was good”? …Don’t tell me they were all clustered together. Just imagining it is disgusting…
Ah, but that makes sense. In a situation like that, if you don’t wipe them out fast, you’ll just keep inhaling scales until you’re screwed. So past-me must’ve decided to go all-in with a Gift and skills to end it in one go…
…You good? No leftover Conflict? All equipment accounted for?
…Hmm, no lost gear. Then we’re good!
“Stay safe!”
Clutching the single pair of butterfly compound eyes in my pocket, I began making my way back to Legol.
No idea how much time I lost, but damn, I’m hungry.
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