I found myself scooting to the edge of my chair to listen closely to momma’s story.
“When the five Lords of Darkness first came to this world, they each did something to leave their mark, just like the Gods had an age earlier. War Lord Irmethes wanted to grow his power by spreading bloodshed and chaos across the land, but he couldn't move himself or the Gods would retaliate. It was for that reason that he created the Lord Spirit.”
“The Lord Spirit was created by the Lords of Darkness?” Could that be where my Demonic affinity came from?
“Yes, but it was a different sort of thing back then. The Lord Spirit was supposed to seek out individuals who were already alive and in positions of power; individuals who were in a position to cause a massive outbreak of war. ”
So there’s no way an unborn baby like me should have received it. “So what happened?”
“The first person that the Lord Spirit latched onto was an Orc named Goliath. He possessed a unique inborn skill, like you do, which let him learn skills from the things he ate. Since the Lord Spirit would allow all of those skills to be embedded and made use of, it thought it would be a perfect match to that ability. Consequently, it would allow a being which was a natural enemy to at least five races with major military strengths to grow greatly in power.”
“So did that Orc actually start a war with his power?”
“No, he didn't start it. The descendants were the ones who attacked first. They were terrified to see a monster gather so much strength and influence. Goliath lead the Orcs to take over the whole of the west forest, you know? There were Arachne, trolls, and lizardmen here before that we had to share it with. Now they're forced to carve small homes for themselves in the cracks.”
Isn't taking over the West forest a war campaign? But I've really never seen a single one of those monsters. Ah, will future generations think that about Fomors?
“To make a long story short, the descendants eventually defeated Goliath--”
“Was the hero who slayed him named David?” I asked with a smirk.
Momma tilted her head and drew her eyebrows together. “No? The person who killed him was a Dwarf woman. I don't know what her name was. Besides that, there were others fighting as well, but I was told the Dwarf struck the killing blow.”
I lowered my head, “I see. Sorry for interrupting.”
“Mm. Anyway, before the final battle, Goliath went to great lengths to acquire the ruler class skill
“What?!” My body trembled at the information which was extremely relevant to me.
“What baby’s thinking is right,” momma nodded. “If you hadn't inherited the Lord Spirit, you most likely would have been born a Human.”
Damn, seriously?! It feels a bit like I was robbed.
“Then what sort of criteria is the Lord Spirit using to choose who to fuse with?”
“It looks at things like inborn skills and personality, since those things carry over from one life to another. Personality usually takes precedence though. For example, if there’s someone with the concept “war should be avoided” as part of in their personality, they won't be picked even if they have strong skills.”
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
“But none of that explains why I feel so much more reckless and aggressive than I was in my past life.” That’s the thing I really wanted to know about! “Is that some function of the Lord Spirit or what?”
“Mm.” Momma narrowed her eyes, “Is the question you're asking: “Why did my personality change when my Race changed?” But did it really change?”
“Hah?” Leaning forward, I started talking with my hands more, as if that would make it clearer that I was being serious. “Of course it did! The kinds of things I've been doing since I was born here, I never would have done them in my old life! I’m especially worried because recently I've been impulsive enough to get myself killed again! I'm being serious here!”
“So am I,” momma nodded calmly. “So, in your previous life, you weren't the type to get violent when you were angry?”
“Of course,” but my voice faltered as a few old memories rushed by, “not.”
Momma pressed, “You weren't the type to get angry when people disrespected you or your possessions? You wouldn't think of uprooting your life and moving elsewhere if the old place was troublesome? You wouldn't rush more recklessly into battle the stronger you were compared to your surroundings?”
“O-only in video games,” I muttered in defense.
Momma looked at the me who had drawn my limbs inward to appear smaller, and was staring at the floor while avoiding eye contact. She folded her arms.
“Like I said before, the personality carries over with the Soul. Your basic personality traits now are the same as they were in your last life. The only difference is that now they're being filtered through an Orc’s Body, Mind, and Heart. It’s obvious that the result would differ a little compared to when you were Human. Changes like those are also considered by the Lord Spirit when it’s choosing a host, since that host will become an Orc by force when they fuse.”
Fine. All the problems are my fault and I there isn't some status debuff I can treat to fix my personality. Tch, how irritating. “I get it already, you can stop.”
“And there’s one other thing for you to keep in mind.” Momma ignored me and kept talking, “Ultimately, the Lord Spirit is only a tool, and it can be used to help achieve whatever the host desires. The true source of the bloodshed and chaos Irmethes intended to cause is the person the Lord Spirit fuses with.”
...What was that?
“Unnn,” I groaned and started weaving and unweaving my fingers. “I'm feeling pretty attacked right now.”
Momma tilted her head and commented first on the English I’d used, “That’s an interesting phrase. But, if I've interpreted it right, one wouldn't usually blush when they're “feeling attacked”.”
I’m blushing?
“Well, yeah. It’s rude to keep lecturing somebody after they admit defeat, you know? And I honestly hate it when people draw attention to my mistakes.” I couldn't seem to stop weaving and unweaving my fingers. “But that last part made me a little happy. I've never been called a “source of bloodshed and chaos” before.”
Flames absently flickered atop momma’s head as she struggled to process something.
“Did you, perhaps,” she tipped her head, “take it as a compliment? Not that I didn't mean it that way, but I was more trying to give advice,” she trailed off.
On reflex, I responded, “No, how could being called a “source of bloodshed and chaos” be taken as a compliment?”
“Um?” Momma made a sound like a hiccup and more flames flickered to life. She tried her hand at speaking again a moment later, “Could it be, baby enjoys being insulted?”
“No!” I'm not a masochist! I moved quickly to deny it.
Momma wore a terribly puzzled face and decided to simply ask, “If you didn't take it as a compliment, and you don't enjoy insults, why did you enjoy being called that way?”
I pinched my nose, not wanting to answer at all, but feeling like things would only get worse if I left it up to momma’s imagination.
“I just like to collect concepts and phrases like that: traumas, things that are able to break a person. I need ideas if I want to insult people properly, you know? Where did you think I--no, you’ve never actually been around when I tore into somebody, have you? Anyway, it’s nothing all that strange, see?”
Momma tilted her head in the other direction. “Is baby a sadist?” Somehow something else strange was said.
“Where did you get that from?!”
“Because you were blushing while thinking of traumatizing ways to insult someone,” she said normally. In fact, the point A and point B were so clear that I had to hesitate.
… Am I a sadist?!
“... That’s, ah, hmm,” I cleared my throat. “More importantly, does the Lord Spirit bestow a Demonic affinity on the people it fuses with, since it was made by one of the Lords of Darkness? I'm not really sure where I got it from.”
“Most of the Orc Lords had an affinity for the Demonic attribute, but there were others who didn't. It isn't an effect of the Lord Spirit itself. Since you have it, it means your soul was comfortable for Demonic Spirits to stay in.”
… I chose a poor change of topic.
I abruptly stood up and started to walk out. “I'd better get some rest for tomorrow. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight!” momma called back pleasantly, and I shut her door.