The Protagonist's Party is Too Diligent

When I opened my eyes, I was a griffon.

No, that’s not a metaphor or some kind of literary flourish. I really was a griffon.

A griffon—or at least, I thought so? I seemed a bit small for one. I could only estimate based on the size of the stones in this cell-like place, but when I stood up, my head barely reached an adult human’s chest. That was significantly smaller than how griffons were usually portrayed in media.

Hind legs of a lion, front talons of an eagle. Strangely enough, I could even feel the wings on my back. I twisted my head to look and, sure enough, there they were. Still covered in soft, downy feathers—it looked like they hadn’t fully grown in.

At first, I was shocked, of course. But I calmed down faster than expected.

Why wouldn’t I? Even before the recent trend of getting isekai’d into books for badmouthing authors, there were older, more classic isekai tropes. Like falling asleep mid-game and waking up as your game character. Or a random high school student getting sucked into another world for no reason and somehow becoming a hero.

And if you trace that genre back far enough, there were always stories where people reincarnated into bizarre things. I went down the list of all the weird ones I’d seen in light novels and nodded to myself.

Yeah, if I had to rank it... being a griffon is pretty high tier.

...As far as creatures go, anyway.

But as I slowly came to grips with the situation, a few critical problems became apparent.

First of all—I was a baby griffon.

“Cheep?”

That’s right. In this kind of story, where the protagonist reincarnates as a non-human, there’s usually an unspoken rule that they eventually gain the ability to speak. Otherwise, the story can’t move forward. Sure, some top-tier writers might pull it off, but most hit a wall pretty quickly.

And from a reader’s perspective, it’s just frustrating.

Light novels are expected to have cute heroine characters. Especially non-human reincarnation stories—since they’re mostly aimed at male readers, there’s pressure to include attractive female leads.

But if the protagonist is a beast... or a monster... or an object... can they even end up with the heroine?

Well... I guess if it’s a beast, maybe. There are genres for that.

But even in those stories, the protagonist still ends up able to talk to the heroine.

Of course they do.

Let’s be real. If a girl starts getting feelings for the puppy she’s been raising, that’s not normal. Some people might be into that, sure—but if you're putting it on bookstore shelves? That’s a problem. You can’t have readers going “Wait, what?” halfway through.

...I don’t know for sure if this is a novel world, but still.

I’ve gone off track a bit. Whether or not I’ll be able to speak later is one thing—but right now, I couldn’t even produce human words.

I was a griffon. A bird-brained griffon. And eagles don’t mimic human speech.

“Cheep.”

...Not that I could even make proper eagle sounds. I was just a baby griffon.

Could I write to communicate? Nope. Odds are, whatever language I used wouldn’t be recognized in this world.

The first major problem: I had no way to communicate with people.

The second problem—

Clink.

When I lifted my eagle-like front leg—my hand, really—I heard the clinking of chains.

Chains. Heavy iron ones, looped around my front legs.

Not just the front legs, either. My lion hindlegs, my neck, even my wings were chained.

I couldn’t move. At all.

Why so many restraints? Was it because I was a griffon? I couldn’t figure out why anyone would go this far to shackle a chick still covered in gray fuzz.

I didn’t know how I’d gotten here. Why this griffon was here.

But one thing was clear: this was not a good situation.

What kind of person locks up a griffon like this? A merchant planning to sell me? A military group trying to weaponize me?

“....”

Footsteps echoed in the distance.

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

My hearing was sharper than it had been as a human. Sounds from far away hit me like they were right next to me.

Metal boots clinking. Real, heavy steel boots.

A knight in full plate armor stepped in front of me.

Great.

Whatever orders he gives, I’ll follow.

He’s way bigger than me, and it’ll hurt if he hits me.

I just need to listen for now and figure things out—

But that thought was interrupted.

Crack. My head whipped to the side.

“Cheep?”

That’s the sound that came out of my mouth.

Apparently, he didn’t like it—because he struck the other side of my face right away.

“Cheeeep!”

The squeaky, pitiful sound didn’t match the situation at all.

I collapsed sideways, then barely managed to lift my eyes. The knight was looking down at me.

I couldn’t see his face. But the shadow under his visor... it looked like hate.

“Because of you... my comrades died trying to capture just you.”

Metal clanked as he stepped closer. I tried to lift myself up, but the chains were too short. I couldn’t get my feet under me.

“Trying to attack me now?”

“Cheep!”

No! I was going to cooperate!

But I had no way to explain.

It felt like my whole body was on fire.

My legs, my wings, my head, my body—everything ached from the beating.

A griffon’s body is probably tougher than a human’s. That’s probably why they went this far restraining even a chick. They must’ve feared me that much.

“Enough.”

A second voice—this one calm, older. Male.

The sound of regular shoes clicking against stone echoed into the room.

“If the griffon dies, then your comrades’ deaths will have been in vain. Do you want their sacrifice to be meaningless?”

“...Forgive me, Cardinal.”

The knight stepped back instantly, all fury gone, standing stiffly at attention.

Or maybe he just looked calm. Who knows what face he was making under that helmet?

I curled up, trembling.

I didn’t want to be hit anymore.

But the chains were so tight, I couldn’t even back away.

“Don’t be afraid.”

The old man—“Cardinal,” apparently—spoke gently to me.

“As long as you obey, you won’t be hurt again.”

“Cheep. Cheep.”

I’ll obey. I swear.

I repeated it over and over. But no human words came out.

Whatever he heard in my chirps, the Cardinal nodded thoughtfully.

“We’ll be conducting a test soon. We need to see if it’s fit to face our enemy.”

“My comrades already—”

“I said our enemy. Not swords and spears. You know this. The Empire is preparing to transcend that era. We need to know if it can survive guns and cannons.”

Guns? Cannons?

Wait, what?

“...Understood.”

The knight’s voice was filled with twisted joy.

Probably because he thought this would be his chance for revenge.

“....”

All I could do was tremble in the corner, terrified of that joy.

*

“Hi—hiiik!”

The one making that sound was the human holding a rifle.

We were inside a circular arena, the kind you'd only see in movies or comics—its walls covered in thick steel mesh.

It was like a colosseum, and I was in there with just one human.

The human had a gun. I, of course, was unarmed. Not that I could hold a weapon anyway.

And—I understood what this situation was.

The human facing me did too.

We were supposed to kill each other.

No—more precisely—

I was supposed to kill him.

The test to see if I could withstand guns and cannons, and still kill a person.

That’s what the Cardinal had mentioned.

“D-Don’t come any closer...!”

...I wasn’t planning to.

As the human pointed his rifle at me, I ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) backed into a corner of the arena.

...This is terrifying.

The gun. The frightened human.

And the fact that I was expected to attack him with my claws or beak.

It all just scared me.