THE HERO'S SON IS A MONSTER-Chapter 45: First personality

As Eresheb’s grip became increasingly dangerous, the baby coughed more precisely, as if clearing its throat to test its vocal cords. Eresheb, who had until then been analyzing the child’s personality, was pulled out of her trance, realizing the mistake she had almost made.

But before she could say anything, she was caught off guard by an event that surprised her. The child’s eyes, which had been empty until then, now vibrated with a dark blue hue a gaze still vacant, yet chaotic.

A voice, fitting for a baby but disturbingly monotone, reached Eresheb’s ears.

"Ariane..."

"Stop, it hurts!" The expression on the baby’s face did not change, as if a golem incapable of feeling pain had suddenly declared it was in pain. It was that kind of situation.

"Ah... sorry." Eresheb felt unwell, not just from guilt over having let her thoughts dictate her actions for a brief moment.

Silence settled. The child remained calm, still observing Eresheb with an empty stare. To her, it felt as if she were placed in a room with everyone watching her, leaving her feeling ashamed and exposed.

Now that she had confirmed the child could speak, despite its appearance, she thought she needed to have a conversation with it.

As expected from Lady Ariane, she had a knack for doing surprising things.

But one thing puzzled her even more. Even if she had lost control, she had not gone as far as to actually harm the child. So how had it felt pain?

"Do you still hurt?"

The empty gaze! The child suddenly began hysterically repeating that it was in pain. It was hard to believe it was truly suffering.

It was as if it had always been in pain, and now, it had finally found a way to externalize it—to show the world its suffering, Eresheb thought.

"Calm down, little brother!"

"I hurt, hurt, hurt, hurt, hurt, hurt..." It repeated the words like a broken record, as if pain was the only thing it knew. Eresheb was so shocked that she began to wonder what kind of experiments Ariane had conducted on this child.

Eresheb forced herself to stay calm. She knew panicking would do no good, and it wasn’t in her nature at least, not when it came to Ariane. Yet, hearing those words repeated again and again, this mechanical litany, this monotonous refrain, deeply unsettled her.

The child continued, endlessly:

"I hurt, hurt, hurt, hurt, hurt..."

Its small body showed no signs of physical pain, but something intangible seemed to be eating away at it from the inside. Its vacant gaze pulsed with a strange, almost unbearable energy.

Eresheb took a deep breath. She had to stop this spiral before it escalated further.

"Little brother." Her voice softened, steadied. "Look at me."

The baby did not even blink. It did not cry. It did not seem to be truly suffering... so why was it saying this so insistently? Was it merely echoing past pain? Or perhaps...

Eresheb was close to the answer. But her understanding was incomplete.

"Who taught you that word?" she asked, still holding him, but this time with a tenderness she rarely allowed herself, as if trying to make up for her earlier actions.

The child stopped speaking. For a moment, silence weighed heavily in the room. Then, its mouth opened slowly. It began doing what it had done when Ariane and the Ruler of Pandemonium were present repeating a long sequence of names over and over.

A shiver ran down Eresheb’s spine.

"Did Lady Ariane teach you these names?" she asked, watching the child closely. The list was long, and she wasn’t even sure if the child understood what it was saying or if it was merely following some strange protocol Ariane had implanted in it.

The child did not answer immediately. It did not seem to be thinking, as if the question itself was too complex for its forming mind, and as if the answers it gave were already predetermined. Finally, in the same monotonous voice, it responded:

"I learned pain! They taught me!"

Eresheb felt as if the world tilted around her. The walls of the wandering castle seemed to close in, shadows stretching in a sickening dance. Her heart pounded faster. It wasn’t that she had never faced unbearable situations before ones that could make a person lose their composure but everything about this child disturbed her in an inexplicable way, and this only intensified those feelings.

She wanted to believe the child was rambling, that perhaps these words were nothing more than fragmented memories, remnants of an incomplete programming. With Ariane, that was always a possibility.

But deep down, she knew that wasn’t the case. Something was very wrong.

"What do you mean... learned?" She felt her throat tighten. "Did Lady Ariane hurt you? Did those people hurt you?"

The child stared at her with those unreadable eyes. It blinked slowly and then, without warning, a smile spread across its lips.

"World, hero, save, earth, goddess, reincarnation, regression, summoning, apocalypse, destruction, death, Covid-19, Kannazuki, Chreois, Beatrice, demons, demon king, dragons, night, day, Gedrick..."

This time, it was no longer just a list of names repeated on a loop, but a mix of terms, names, and events leaving Eresheb utterly bewildered.

She felt her breath hitch.

Silence returned, heavy and oppressive.

Eresheb could have screamed, shaken the child, demanded answers. But she did nothing. Because now, she understood nothing.

This was not a complaint. Not a cry of pain.

This was its nature. Its very essence.

The child was not just born in pain. It was pain itself.

Eresheb tightened her grip around it. Her mission, her role... what was she supposed to do now? She had to talk to Ariane. She had to understand. And she had to find out whether Lady Ariane knew about this. Her report had long since become a secondary concern.

Eresheb lowered her gaze to the child, her expression softening slightly as she took in the clothes she had made for him.

He wore a tunic of pristine white linen, simple yet elegant, tailored to fit his small frame. The round collar was edged with delicate silver embroidery a subtle detail she had added without really knowing why, perhaps to give him a touch of refinement despite his young age.

His trousers, a deep shade of blue reminiscent of the night sky, were made of a soft yet durable fabric, allowing him to move freely. They were secured at the waist with a finely braided belt, tied carefully so it was neither too tight nor too loose.

On his feet were light sandals crafted from supple leather, shaped by her own hands sturdy enough to offer protection, yet comfortable enough not to hinder his steps.

These clothes, though simple, carried the care and precision Eresheb had put into making them. They were neither luxurious nor overly adorned, but they were made for him, meant to ensure his comfort, to give him something that was truly his.

And yet, even dressed like this, the child seemed strangely detached from the world, as if nothing could truly anchor him to reality.

"I think I need to speak to Lady Ariane as soon as possible."