Anime, starting from Re:Zero (Zero - Starting Life)

Note 1: Gawain only said this much, so Lokisi had no idea of ​​his specific strength, let alone the affairs of the Vitrum Empire. In her opinion, being born a Demon King was incredibly powerful.

Therefore, Luo Qixi would only estimate it to be Saint-King level.

"Could it be possible that I can become an emperor-level warrior when I grow up?"

That's probably the reaction.

Note 2: In my setting, the Migrud people who are connected by telepathy should be a race with very high internal altruism. It is not through education and morality, but it becomes like this naturally.

As we all know, words and texts will be distorted and misunderstood the moment they leave the person involved, but the Migrud people's telepathy does not transmit language, but pure thoughts. In other words, it is very likely that misunderstandings will not occur, and they are able to understand each other naturally.

It is natural to break the wall of the heart.

I even find it hard to imagine that the Migrud people, who have telepathy and grew up in a village, would choose to marry someone other than their own. The inclusion of this race in a story that is essentially about how people understand each other is simply unfair.

Chapter 49: Menarche (1)

October 19, 416 Jialong calendar year

An ordinary morning.

As usual, Sylphy woke up slowly when the sky was already bright.

First, she smiled and glanced at the traces left by her brother when he got up, then she used her hands to support herself and climbed up lazily, then...

No more.

Sylphy's expression first became one of embarrassment and shame, and she muttered something like "How is it possible? It's been years since I last did that...", and tentatively reached her little hand into the quilt, touching it before withdrawing her hand, accompanied by an increasingly strong sweet and fishy smell.

She looked at her fingertips.

is blood.

Something Sylphy definitely didn't want to see.

Especially in this situation, on one's own body.

Tears welled up in her eyes. Sylphy couldn't believe it and desperately wiped her bloody fingertips with her other hand, rubbing the scarlet wet marks dry and then rubbing them into dark red mud. She vented her anger and brushed them away, making them disappear from her sight.

But it didn't disappear.

The wet feeling in her lower body, the smell of rust in the air, and the increasingly obvious and unignorable cramps in her lower abdomen all made Sylphy's heart sink.

The transformation has come.

The change that Sylphy didn't want to see came suddenly.

This is Sylphiet Vitrudia's first period.

From today on, she is no longer a little girl.

The sound of the door being pushed open a little later than usual, and the footsteps being larger and more erratic, all made Gawain frown slightly as he was preparing breakfast. He walked out of the semi-open kitchen and looked at Sylphy, who had just woken up, and said with concern:

"Sylphy, why don't you rest at home today? I'll ask for leave for you later."

Sylphy, with a pale face, or to be more precise, a faint, unhealthy blue tint on her already pale face, leaned against the wall and confessed to her brother in a slightly lowered but firm voice:

"Brother, I'm having my period."

Gawain nodded. He had known this for several hours.

"What kind of jam are you putting on today? I've already warmed up your breakfast milk, but I think you can't drink it too cold, right?"

Sylphy didn't go to wash up. The temperature at home was kept around 20 degrees Celsius year-round. She wore only a thin, pure white nightgown, trying not to notice the red plum blossoms dotting the hem. She walked to the kitchen door and looked at her brother's busy back. A slight soreness in the corners of her eyes, she continued emphatically:

"Brother, I'm having my first period."

Her brother simply turned around and gave her a gentle smile. Every time he smiled, Sylphy was reminded of a time when he was expressionless. But even then, he was always gentler with her, so Sylphy didn't find his expressions of discontent or anger as frightening as Rudy did. Because her brother was a gentle person, the slightly drooping corners of his eyes and the slightly closed eyelids when he chuckled were just right, never giving her a cold feeling. Even his pupils, which were increasingly close to an icy blue, were warm, not to mention the evenly spaced, slightly curved corners of his mouth, and even his thin lips, which were always pale, were perfect.

Brother said:

"I know. I'll stay at home with you today and help you prepare everything you need."

Sylphy pulled up a lock of her hair, remembering her stern-faced little brother once twisting a strand and telling her, "It's a lovely color, grow it out." She brushed her hair down, and at the end of the emerald green, she saw a hint of red, which was drying and turning dark. "It's grown this long already, huh?" Brother.

I wanted to show off to my brother that I had grown up well, and I wanted to praise him for raising me well, but was growing up really something worth being happy about? Sylphy originally wanted to ask this in a lighthearted and joking tone, but she couldn't help but reveal a feeling of grievance:

"Is this all you want to say, brother?"

My brother apologized:

"I'm sorry, Sylphy probably won't be able to grow to 1.7 meters."

My brother turned sideways again and moved his hand to the other corner of the table. It was no longer the same hand as a girl's hand when he was a child, but a large male hand that could easily cover his fist. The fingers were slender and the joints were distinct. It looked delicate from a distance, but the strength in it could be clearly felt from a close distance. If you hold it, it will become gentle again and give you a sense of security. In addition to the healthy white color, the skin is also very delicate to the touch, and people will not want to let go once they grab it.

Sylphy put her hands behind her back and couldn't help laughing:

"Silly brother, but Sylphy is 1.48 meters tall now, you know? If she works hard, she should be able to grow another ten centimeters after her period, right? Just over 1.6 meters would be considered a passing score, right?"

Brother's attitude is still so doting, as if he has no bottom line towards Sylphy, so he taught her bad things, stupid brother!

"Then Sylphy can only work harder. I think Sylphy is beautiful and cute no matter how tall she is."

My brother turned completely around. This morning, he was still wearing his revealing training clothes, revealing his collarbone and a hint of his upper chest. His muscles were clearly toned, yet not cumbersome. The curve of his neck was more perfect than many girls', his Adam's apple tingling with every roll. The curve of his deltoids was also beautiful. The clear, polished collarbone and the shadows on his upper ribs made me, a girl, a little jealous. He wore a pure white apron over his linen-white training clothes. The ropes created a corset-like effect, framing his waist even through the loose short sleeves.

Sylphy wanted to sit down and chat.

After all, I don’t have to go to school today, right? My brother will stay with me.

Then there is no need to stick to the original pace of life, right?

But she didn't dare sit down, and even hoped that her brother would turn his head away and not let his blood-stained eyes into her sight. She felt that her sins and filth were crawling down along the base of her thighs, as cold as a poisonous snake.

When she thought of this, when she felt this, the support she had drawn from her brother's body was about to collapse and dissipate. Sylphy couldn't take her eyes off her brother's body. This was a body completely different from hers, stronger, more perfect, more charming, and more immortal.

I have nothing in common with my skinny, emaciated, broken, and rotten self.

The sweet and fishy stench still lingered at Sylphy's nose.

My brother’s growth is the ladder to ascend to the throne of God.

So what is my growth?

Sylphy couldn't help but grab the dried blood, hiding it in her palm, pressing it hard against her torn belly, her skirt wrinkled and her fingertips about to pierce into her stomach.

Don't want to admit it.

I really don't want to admit it.

My growth means aging, means defects, means the end, means that I have to start becoming alienated, and means the complete death of my innocent childhood.

I became filthy.

------

Note 1: It wasn't until the end of this chapter that I, as the author, realized that Sylphy's scrutiny of Gawain was tinged with Oedipus. Previously, I'd felt more that Sylphy was awakening her maternal instincts towards Gawain, especially as she became increasingly aware of Gawain's fragility.

But it does make sense. On the other hand, except in the field of emotion, Gawain is perfect, powerful and impeccable (something like invincible), and Gawain's emotional fragility mainly depends on Sylphy herself. It is normal for her to regard Gawain as a perfect father with divinity.

Note 2: This doesn't refer to menstruation being dirty. Rather, Sylphy, who already possesses universal values, feels that after reaching sexual maturity, she can no longer be as intimate with her brother as she once was, and so, as a perfect sister, she has become incomplete and dirty.

Note 3: Writing about women’s gaze on men is too tiring.

Chapter 50: Menarche (2)

Sylphy forced a smile:

"Sylphy doesn't want to be much shorter than her brother!"

Gawain couldn't help but take two steps forward, but unlike usual, he seemed to be hesitating about something and didn't get too close. He just stopped in front of the dining table and pressed his fingers on the tabletop, causing the table to tremble slightly.

He asked worriedly:

"Does it hurt? Healing magic... No, I can't use that stuff. Sylphy, I have some painkillers prepared, do you need any?"

In fact, Gawain didn't quite understand it either. After noticing this a few hours ago, he even thought that Sylphy was injured. Fortunately, he immediately recalled some of Roxy's previous performances, and then he determined the correct answer and searched for it in the database immediately.

Unfortunately, the Vitrum people did not have such a setting. Gawain could only get up early and use his own methods to search for information and collect things that might be useful. Of course, he planned to leave the too private items for Sylphy to buy herself or the two of them to solve together.

Sylphy subconsciously moved her toes back, tapping the ground lightly, wanting to escape, but she was worried that such an action would make her brother sad, so she declined:

"It's okay actually, I'm just not used to it."

Sylphy pretended to be calm and asked:

"Speaking of which, brother, do you know what menstruation means to the races in the human world?"

If he had only a vague understanding last night, Gawain was now a true master of obstetrics and gynecology. He even understood the orcish reproductive mechanism. For example, the estrus period was actually based on the maturation of the orcish female's follicles...

In short, Gawain nodded and answered briefly:

"Maturity of reproductive capacity."

Even Sylphy could tell from the details that her brother must have just made the special effort to learn about this. She couldn't help but smile. Her crimson eyes reflected her brother's icy blue eyes, and their long, slightly curly black hair matched perfectly. They'd both started growing their hair long, but his hair seemed much shorter than hers, barely reaching his shoulders. Was it because he was growing taller? Or did boys' hair simply grow slower than girls'? Next time, she'd compare hair lengths with her brother's. That way, she could collect his hair openly, no longer in secret. As she thought about this, the nausea that lingered in Sylphy's nose lessened considerably. She could smell the familiar, herbaceous scent of her brother's long hair, enveloping her every night, leaving even her pillow with an indelible mark.

Sylphy couldn't help but ask:

"Brother, don't you have any thoughts on this?"

The topic of usurpation.

Gawain seemed to realize that Sylphy wasn't resisting his approach too much, so he continued walking until he gently took Sylphy's free hand and placed it in his larger palm.

"it's not a big deal."

He emphasized again:

"it's not a big deal."

Finally, he pursed his lips and asked seriously:

"Sylphy, do you want to have your own room? I mean, during this inconvenient time."

In no mood.

Sylphy knew that the answer her brother wanted was:

"Do not want to."

She also began to act out a fake act that seemed perfect to others, just like her brother now, but could be easily seen through by the person in front of her:

"Stupid brother, shouldn't we sleep separately when Sylphy is not feeling well? Or do you think it's too much trouble to take care of Sylphy every month?"

Her brother was stroking her hand out of habit, just as she would always instinctively hold her brother's hand and play with it, but this time there was something different. She could clearly feel the intense throbbing that she was trying to suppress when her brother touched her skin. After all, she was also trying to suppress such feelings, and she had started earlier than her brother.

Her brother was worried that his power would hurt her, and she was also worried that her power would hurt her brother, so she wouldn't go any further, couldn't go any further.

Sylphy interlocked her brother's fingers with one hand. Although this was not enough to cause discomfort to her brother, it gave her a slight sharp pain, making her more awake.

Gawain did not answer Sylphy's question right away. He was attracted by Sylphy's little movements and childishly started a finger fight with his childish sister. He moved his eyes away from Sylphy's nightgown which became messy due to the movement of his other hand, and did not look at the corner of his sister's snow-white flesh that was inadvertently exposed, and the beautiful bulge below.

Gao Wen had no choice but to accept:

"Then don't make any changes. Sylphy, if you change your mind, remember to tell me."

Gawain knew that he was a little slow most of the time, but he didn't care. However, when it came to Sylphy's affairs, he couldn't help but care.

Sylphy took her brother's hand, placed her slightly cold cheek against the back of his hand, and whispered:

"Okay."

Ten years old, brother, wait until I am ten years old.

Although I have decided to be the calcium necessary for my brother to stand up for the first time, and to be the first embellishment of his eternal life, but ah!

Let me indulge in this feeling for a while.

The traces of blood flow did not dry up, but continued to be moistened, and finally gathered into a pomegranate seed with enough weight, which crushed the obstacles, rolled down, flew over the high slope of the knee bone, and fell on the side of the calf, sliding down and crawling left and right, licking and skimming over the ankle, and greedily stopped on the white arch of the foot with light blue veins.

My brother noticed it, and he knelt on one knee, extending his other hand as if it was normal to do so. It was too late to stop him, or was it because I was looking forward to what he would do? As expected, my brother's palm covered the soft and warm calf, dyeing the snow-white skin cherry pink, wiping over the traces of dirty blood, dispelling the sweet and fishy smell of decay, and leaving a numbing smell of grass on the ankles and feet.

I felt my body become warm and light, no longer feeling as if it was being squeezed and spasmed, whether it was inside the uterus or inside the heart.

Sylphy gradually calmed down.

My brother's actions were pure and without any ulterior motives, just like in the past. Everything that had just happened seemed to have turned into a terrible hallucination brought about by some nascent toxin.

She was finally able to smile as usual, and spoke in the same lively tone as before:

"Thank you, brother! I'll clean it up right away! Go cook, brother. Remember to wash your hands first, okay?"

My brother stood up and nodded, then turned around normally and calmly. It must have been an illusion. My brother didn't have the kind of throbbing feeling that only appeared in me.

Sylphy felt so relieved.