The Protagonist's Party is Too Diligent-Chapter 300

Honestly, I was feeling pretty optimistic about this.

I had never raised a pet before.

Naturally, I didn’t have any certifications or training related to animal care. My only experience with raising anything was back in elementary school when my teacher made us take care of a potted plant. I had just gone to a local flower shop, bought a random plant, and looked after it for a while.

Even now, the people actually taking care of the gryphon were others, not me. Strictly speaking, I wasn’t raising it.

Actually, was it even something that could be raised?

It clearly understood human speech. The reason it stayed in the imperial palace was because it wanted to be there, not because anyone had deliberately brought it in to be domesticated.

It wasn’t just recognizing certain words or reacting to human emotions—it fully understood and responded to what people said. There was no need to tame or train it.

That was why I had been optimistic.

And for that exact reason, I soon realized how difficult this was going to be.

*

Hmph.

Written like that, it almost seemed cute. It was the kind of sound more commonly associated with adorable or feminine characters rather than burly men, so it carried a soft, playful connotation.

But in reality, that sound was meant to express a small, cute creature snorting. And when a much larger creature made that noise... it didn’t sound anything like hmph.

The gryphon’s snort certainly wasn’t that. Its oral structure was different from ours. Humans had lips, while gryphons had beaks. Though it did have nostrils, they weren’t shaped like a human’s, and when it exhaled, the resulting breath sounded more like air being forced through a massive pump.

More than anything, it had a ridiculous lung capacity—fitting for a massive creature capable of flight. Even though its nostrils were far above me, the gust it released sent dust swirling around my feet and made the hem of my dress flutter.

Still, if I had to describe the gryphon’s reaction to my words in a single syllable, there was really only one choice.

Hmph.

"...What’s your problem?"

After confirming that no one was around, I muttered in a small voice.

"I give you food when you’re hungry, I make sure your surroundings are warm and comfortable. You’re here because you wanted to be here, aren’t you? So if you’re living in comfort, you could at least do me one favor."

Another deep breath rumbled from the gryphon’s nostrils, sending another gust around my feet.

"Wait, weren’t you the one who acknowledged me and came here in the first place...?"

That was something I couldn’t say in front of others, but I could say it here. No matter how /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ intelligent the gryphon was, its beak made it physically impossible for it to speak human words.

Judging by the way it was watching me slump my shoulders, it definitely understood what I was asking.

Hmm...

I looked up at the gryphon again, rubbing my chin in thought.

There was a concept called non-human personhood.

It referred to animals with intelligence on par with humans. Some claimed that crows and parrots had intelligence comparable to human children, while others said elephants and dolphins had their own form of culture.

Of course, there was debate about whether that perspective was too human-centric, but at the very least, it was an interesting thought. It seemed a bit absurd to believe that, out of all the creatures on Earth, only humans were capable of intelligence.

Regardless of whether it was scientifically valid or just sentimental thinking, if that category did exist, the gryphon would certainly fall into it.

Because if this oversized beast, sitting loaf-like with its head held high, turned out to have just the intelligence of a regular animal... I’d be very surprised.

"Alright, then."

I looked up at the gryphon and spoke.

"Tell me what you want. If it’s something I can do, I’ll do it. But in return, you have to do something for me. Fair enough?"

Even after hearing that, the gryphon continued staring down at me in silence.

It wasn’t that it didn’t understand... was it?

Just as I was beginning to seriously wonder, the gryphon finally moved.

It wasn’t anything dramatic—it simply stood up.

Then, as if stretching, it extended its folded wings high into the air.

It wasn’t an extraordinary action, but the sheer presence it exuded was overwhelming. The gryphon was already massive, and when it fully spread its wings, the wingtips reached far above its own head. It made sense—those wings had to be enormous to lift such a colossal body into the air.

Even though I’d seen the gryphon plenty of times before, I found myself momentarily mesmerized by the sight.

A gryphon—head and upper body of a white eagle, lower body of a lion.

From the front, with its wings spread, it looked exactly like a massive eagle standing upright.

My heart pounded slightly as I watched, wondering if it was about to do something grand.

But no—it really was just stretching. The gryphon soon folded its wings back down.

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

Then, lowering its head, it suddenly bowed deeply.

It was a polite, almost formal gesture.

For a moment, I had no idea what it was trying to do.

But recalling how I had greeted it once before, I grabbed the hem of my dress and returned the bow.

Follow current novels on freewebnσvel.cѳm.

A brief silence passed before we both raised our heads again.

"...Was that it?"

I asked, tilting my head.

The gryphon cocked its head as well.

Then, with another deep breath, it let out a soft hmph.

"What—?"

As I frowned up at it, the gryphon lowered its head toward me once more.

This time, it bent its knees slightly as well.

"...Huh?"

What the hell? Is it calling me a dead person or something?

That thought crossed my mind for a brief moment.

But then again, this was a Western-inspired setting from a Japanese game company. The whole "bowing twice is only for the dead" Confucian rule wouldn’t apply here... or at least, it shouldn’t. No, actually, since it was a Japanese game company, there might be some Confucian influence, but surely they wouldn’t force it into a Western setting this blatantly.

Either way, not returning the greeting in this situation would just make things awkward. Besides, even though I’d grown used to seeing the gryphon often, it was still a creature that could slice me up like pudding if it wanted to. There was no need to provoke it unnecessarily.

So, I once again bowed politely before straightening up.

"Do you have something you want to say?"

The gryphon tilted its head slightly at my words—then, just as seriously, it bowed again.

And so, I bowed back.

...And then we repeated the process three more times.

That was when a faint thought passed through my mind.

The very first time I spoke to the gryphon, I had addressed it with formal speech. Back then, I used polite speech with everyone around me.

Of course, I still did that now.

But I was aware that I had broken that rule a few times.

Like when I turned back time with Claire.

Maybe from that point onward, I had subconsciously loosened my own standards.

No—actually, let’s be honest here.

Talking formally to an animal when you’re alone with it is just weird.

Wouldn't it be kind of strange to speak to a pet dog in formal speech?

Of course, I wasn’t exactly raising this gryphon.

Strictly speaking, I wasn’t even sure if anyone was raising it.

"......"

But regardless, the situation was pretty clear.

Since the gryphon couldn’t speak human language due to its beak, it was trying to communicate with me through body language.

And every time I responded in informal speech after bowing, it became even more cautious and polite in its response.

If that gesture wasn’t a way of saying I’ll do it, so you should too, then what else could it mean?

...Although, for a creature that seemed to care so much about formality, it had thrown me into the air by my collar multiple times.

I decided to let that slide for now.

"So what you're saying is, we should show mutual respect?"

The moment I spoke in polite speech again, the gryphon gave a small, satisfied nod.

What a hassle...

"Alright then. If I ask politely like this, will you consider doing me a favor as well?"

"......"

At my question, the gryphon simply sat back down.

Back into that same loaf-like position.

It almost looked like it was incubating an egg.

...

Wait, now that I think about it—was this gryphon male or female?

Would it get angry if I tried to check?

Setting that completely irrelevant thought aside, it seemed like mutual respect was merely the basis for communication.

Whether or not it would actually grant my request was an entirely separate matter.

What a hassle...

And so, I thought the exact same thing again.