Chapter 3

A Compulsive Cringe: Suppose a Daughter Found Her Father Making Merry in a Dive Bar

The audience chamber in the Azami castle’s interior.

Some of the damage sustained during Marie’s magic duel with demon lord Abaddon had been repaired.

This chamber had once been used to receive visiting dignitaries or as a place of judgment, but those traditions had died out. Diplomatic meetings took place in reception rooms designated for that purpose, while a new government branch had been established to handle the judiciary process. These days, it was used exclusively for celebrations and ceremonies.

Normally a solemn place, today it was overflowing with people. Choline looked over the faces with evident delight. The number of grim countenances before her topped even the entrance tests for the academy.

“Better turnout than I expected! The lure of a top-level dungeon, plus a quest by royal decree—and if the reward’s good enough, the adventurers come running.”

This chamber was to be the site of a briefing given personally by the king himself. Despite the silliness of the ad, quite a crowd had gathered. High-level dungeons were just that tempting.

“But some of these people are borderline criminals,” Chrome growled. “This is the castle, Choline. Don’t let your guard down.”

Chrome was on duty as a guard, keeping an eye out for any suspicious activity.

The occupation of adventurer had no real minimum requirements and was open to all manner of people, no matter their personal histories. It was a dream job that gave anyone a chance to strike gold.

As a result, they were at the bottom tier of society, and if a child ever expressed a desire to become one, their parents would vehemently reject the idea.

A handful had obtained significant status, becoming world-famous. The desire to be like those few successes kept the occupation’s ranks filled. Basically, like modern-day You—ubers.

Choline was as glib as Chrome was grim.

“Most of our students are one step shy of criminals! See?”

She pointed at Lloyd and the other cadets, who were also working security.

“…I could stay standing the rest of my life if I was by your side, Sir Lloyd!”

His stalker, Selen, looked at him with eyes glazed over from ecstasy…which wasn’t exactly making her an effective guard.

“Geez, I’d rather be joining those guys. A new dungeon? Government rewards? And with Lloyd in tow, we’d clean it up.”

Riho was a former mercenary with a record, though in actuality, she’d only been framed for those crimes.

“…Lots of powerful warriors here… Would love to go a few rounds with them.”

Possessed of an endless thirst for strength, Phyllo was as taciturn as she was tenacious—with a tendency to damage property.

“Wow…so many adventurers…”

Innocent but immeasurable, the boy from the legendary village of Kunlun—Lloyd.

Undoubtedly, it was a lineup that could give real criminals a run for their money. Chrome’s scowl deepened.

“…Keep an eye on them, too.”

“Ya know how to work a girl… Oh, here comes the big guy.”

Even as Choline joked, every other guard grew extra tense. Picking up on this, the adventurers straightened up. The king had entered, flanked by his guards.

The king of Azami. He’d backed off on the idea, but everyone knew he’d been calling for war with the Jiou Empire, and he was widely feared for it.

However, that was when he’d been under the possession of Abaddon, the demon lord; the man himself was one of mercy and diligence. He was the kind of person so dedicated to arriving ten minutes early that he arrived ten minutes earlier than that, for a total of twenty minutes early. Since they couldn’t exactly tell anyone about the whole demon lord thing, his bad reputation was unlikely to be restored anytime soon.

“…Hmm.”

The king took a seat on the throne, examining the crowd with great dignity. His weakened condition had resulted in a significant loss of weight, and he once again resembled the vanity statue in the square. This had also increased his gravitas.

The adventurers gulped.

And the king spoke.

“Whoo-hoo! I would like to give you all a royal welcome!”

“““…”””

He was way too enthusiastic. Given his fearsome reputation, nobody had any clue what to make of this.

It was clearly an unprecedented blunder, but that was, in itself, horrifying.

Chrome rushed over to the king at speeds that belied his bulk. They began whispering furiously.

“What are you doing, Your Majesty?!”

“I read that a little humor is the best approach when everyone’s on edge.”

“Humor? That was a joke? Please don’t do that.”

“Hmm, I’d hoped to dispel the fears the demon lord created, but…I guess I wasn’t meant to be a comedian.”

Clearly saddened by the populace’s groundless fears, the king had been attempting countermeasures.

“A joke or two isn’t gonna change your rep overnight. Even if it did, it wouldn’t be for the better!”

“Bumbling is better than scary!”

Chrome was already getting a headache.

Meanwhile…

“““………………”””

The assembled adventurers still looked terrified. Unable to determine the king’s intentions, they simply assumed something sinister lurked behind the man’s facade.

The members of Lloyd’s group, on the other hand, were shaking their heads.

“He tried to get the party started, huh?”

“Yeah, Lloyd, there’s no way that approach would work,” Riho replied. “Everyone is cringing. Even m’lady would know better.”

“Ah! Sir Lloyd! Riho’s being mean!”

“…Hands off him. You’re on duty…and the king clearly has brain damage.”

Fortunately, the king heard none of this.

“I see… A misstep, then.”

He stepped forward once more.

The crowd—adventurers and guards alike—gulped, afraid of what he’d attempt next.

“Sorry, everyone. It seems my attempt at humor fell flat.”

The king just apologized for his misfire. Something no celebrity would ever do. This alone was awkward enough, but…

“It appears the wordplay was a little too obscure! You see, I thought that, being royalty myself, offering a royal welcome would warrant a huge laugh!”

He was now explaining the failed joke. Perhaps his innate diligence led to this error. The truth of it is, nobody has ever laughed at exposition.

Once he was done thoroughly beating the concept to death, he said, “I do apologize for the tangent. Let’s get down to the quest. Choline, if you please.”

“Er…I gotta go up there now?”

Having cooled off the crowd to an unprecedented degree of cringe, the king proceeded to quickly toss the whole mess to Choline, forcing her to start the briefing in the worst possible way.

“S-so let’s all pretend that didn’t happen and start with the monsters on the upper floors…”

She managed to run through her briefing, occasionally throwing in a few royally mandated buzzwords.

“But based on that, we think there may be even nastier monsters waiting farther below, so look out,” she concluded.

A stir ran through the crowd. Choline scratched her head.

“Uh, did that not make sense?”

“Choline, you didn’t mention the reward,” Chrome urged.

“Oh, right! I thought I was forgetting something! Did I overlook it?”

Everyone in the gathered audience was waiting to hear what the reward for completing the quest was.

Choline hastily looked back over her notes, wondering how she’d missed it…but then shook her head.

“Crap. There’s nothing here. That’s weird…”

At this point, the king coughed pointedly.

Once he was sure everyone in the curious crowd was looking at him, he rose to his feet dramatically, planting a hand on Choline’s shoulder.

“Sorry, Colonel Choline. I thought it would be best if it was a surprise—coming directly from me.”

“A…a surprise?”

That sounded ominous. The soldiers around them all looked nervous. What did the king have up his sleeve this time? Nobody trusted him.

“Seeing as this quest has gathered adventurers of considerable skill, no ordinary prize will suffice!”

The king glanced around the room. The adventurers were staring up at him expectantly. Well, maybe 80 percent anxiously.

“Steady… Steady…,” Chrome whispered, like a monk in prayer. His expression was definitely 100 percent anxious.

Oblivious to this, the king spoke passionately, with great confidence, like a politician on the eve of an election.

“Azami has prepared a rewards program designed to meet the demands of people of all races and creeds!”

There was definitely a bit of spittle flying. The king pulled out a booklet, holding it up.

“You may choose the reward of your liking from this catalog!”

Like a wedding registry?

It seemed terribly ordinary after all that buildup. A few people were grumbling loudly, but Chrome and the other soldiers all looked relieved.

“So that’s what the printing fees were for,” Choline said.

“Yeah, when he said surprise, I got scared, but this is entirely reasonable,” her colleague agreed, flipping through the catalog.

A pretty impressive cash payment, Azami citizenship and a house… Really impressive stuff for a monster hunt. The adventurers’ grumbling soon gave way to hoots of admiration. They were so easily swayed—almost as fickle as baseball fans or politicians.

“Yeah, thank goodness there was nothing like the throne itself!”

“Don’t even… Ugh, my stomach… I’m dying. But this will be tough enough. We’ll have to find a house and land…”

He could see Lloyd’s group poring over the catalog, foreheads pressed together, gaping at the pages.

“That’s so much money! Wow! A year’s worth of meat?! That would help the household budget.”

Lloyd’s mind was in full wife mode.

“A house! A love nest just for the two of us!”

Selen’s stalker brain had gotten ahead of reality again.

“I’m gonna quit the army and become an adventurer.”

The rewards had taken control of Riho’s mind.

“…Mm.”

What Phyllo was thinking, no one could tell. Basically, everyone in Lloyd’s group stayed true to their character.

“These rewards may be a bit too good, but…within the realm of allowable, right, Choline?” Chrome asked.

“Eaughh!”

“C-Choline? What is it?”

Her moan did not sound like agreement. It was more a shriek of horror.

All eyes fell to her.

“C-Chrome… Is this a good idea?!”

Finger shaking, Choline pointed at one of the offered prizes. It read…

“Marry whoever you like!”

“Eaughhhhhhhhh!” Chrome let out the exact same shriek.

He went dashing up to the king, catalog in hand.

“What the hell is this?!”

It was hardly the proper voice to take with royalty.

The king looked at the reward, frowned, and then winced.

“Oof, that’s a misprint… We’ll certainly offer support arranging a marriage, but…it was the end of the catalog, and I guess we neglected the fine print.”

It seemed the king had only intended to offer matchmaking services or to foot the bill for a ceremony.

Chrome’s grip on the catalog tightened so much that it made creases in the paper.

“This is way beyond a misprint!” he accused. “This is clearly abusing governmental authority to force a marriage without consent! You’ve gotta correct it!”

“Crap… If they read it that way… I’ll announce the misprint at once!”

It was already too late, however. Chrome’s desperate pleas—particularly the word marriage—had echoed through the chamber…and found their way to the worst people.

“Mm? Marry who you—”

“—Like?”

“…Mm.”

Three sleeping tigers awoke.

Lloyd flipped to the relevant page, looking surprised, too.

“Ah-ha-ha, that must be a joke. The king sure does have a sense of humor!”

“Great sense.”

“Lovely!”

“…Mm.”

All three were clearly raring to go.

“Eaughhh!” Chrome’s stomach passed to the great beyond. Rest in peace.

Other adventurers were getting excited, too—mostly men with the kind of face that made marriage a distant proposition. The women around Lloyd maintained a solid lead on the passion front, though.

“““Long live the king!”””

Shouts erupted from all around the room. Instant monarchists.

This left the king feeling like he’d done a good deed, especially after his failures earlier… Having the whole crowd cheering for him definitely went to his head.

“Th-that’s right! We’re trying to solve the declining birth rate! Two birds with one stone!”

“A stone? Try a meteorite about to land on human rights! Fix this now!” Chrome insisted.

“The kingdom supports a citizen’s right to love! Procreate and pop ’em out! We’ve got your back!”

He was talking like a tour guide for a bridal suite, but he was the king, right?

Just enough adventurers were on board that their roars of approval drowned out all else.

Unable to walk it back, Chrome, Choline, and the other soldiers were forced to let their lord carry on.

“We can’t let him go anywhere… He’ll just take a big swing and miss and wind up in the next country.”

“Argh, Selen and Phyllo are both into it, too… This is bad. This will end in bloodshed.”

Chrome clutched his head, certain the girls would be tripping each other up the whole way through the dungeon, turning the expedition into a living hell.

We’re doomed! Nothing makes the king happier than when the citizens are happy! How can we go against the masses here?

“Um, excuse me.”

A question arose from the crowd, as if in answer to Chrome’s hopes.

Oh! I dunno who you are, but please put an end to this! This has to come from the mouth of a citizen!

Filled with hope, he searched the crowd for the speaker and located them…

“Um, Your Majesty! I have a question about this reward!”

Both her voice and hand were raised. It was Cadet Micona, in uniform and on duty as a guard.

“Why is a guard asking about the reward?!”

Micona was so confident that no one besides Chrome thought to question her actions.

“Yes, what is it?” the king asked, pointing at the raised hand like a schoolteacher.

F-fine! I don’t care who does it. Just make the king acknowledge the ethical concern!

By way of the king’s generosity, Micona was allowed her question.

“It says we can marry whomever we like…”

Go on! Tell him that makes no sense! Chrome urged in his mind.

“Does that include people of the same gender?”

“That’s beside the poiiiiiint!”

Chrome had not seen that one coming.

“Hmm, we hadn’t considered it, but sure, why not?”

The king was not about to let an impromptu comment get in his way.

“““Ohhhhhh!”””

The people roared with approval…well, a certain segment did anyway.

“Praise the day! Azami officially backs my marriage to that beautiful boy!”

“This is the best day of my life!”

“Rowr!”

Some very excited adventurers out there. Respect.

“If it makes the citizens happy, we want nothing more!”

“Doesn’t really affect the birth rate, though…”

Chrome hung his head, resigning himself to backing the romantic aspirations of anyone who asked, whether they were a baboon-faced adventurer or a dungeon-crawling drag queen.

He gulped, feeling like a few of that latter group were definitely looking his way.

There sure are a lot of people here who don’t exactly have marriageable faces… Fixing them up will be a total nightmare… Hngg!

From somewhere in the crowd, Chrome sensed murderous intent. An assassin? He kind of wanted to kill the king himself right now, but…he wasn’t about to do that. Chrome braced himself, searching for the killer…

“……”

He saw Marie glaring at him from below the brim of her pointy hat.

Why are you here, Princess Maria?!

She was here as an adventurer, searching for answers on Lloyd. Uninterested in the quest from the start, now she was forced to witness her father digging his own grave and basically offering to force two people to marry regardless of ethical considerations—as a reward. She looked like a girl handed a bill for damages caused during a drunken cabaret catastrophe.

The difference was that Marie had seen the entire string of failures live and in person. The glare directed at Chrome was clearly blaming him for not stopping this.

A chill ran down his spine, and he tried to clue the king in.

“Your Majesty, uh…”

Before he could tell the king that his daughter was here, His Majesty leaped to his feet, waving both hands at the crowd.

“Adventurers! Leave it to me! We’ll guarantee the first two years of any marriage! Or divorce! If you decide to switch partners, we’ll be there for you!”

With tears in his eyes, the king spoke with all the passion of a cell phone sales rep explaining how easy it was to add new lines to a plan.

“I don’t think anyone’s afraid of me now! Azami has a bright future.”

Only the ugly ones were happy. The rest of the adventurers were starting to look downright alarmed.

“…………”

The look of cold fury in the eyes of the king’s daughter, Princess Maria, couldn’t have seemed more dauntless. Most actual assassins looked less dangerous. Modern bodyguards would have pounced on her the moment she moved a hand near a pocket.

However, the king remained blissfully unaware, thoroughly enjoying himself…and he wasn’t even done.

“And to wrap things up, I’d like to arrange a little meet and greet!”

“What are you thinking?!” Chrome yelped. No one had mentioned this to him.

“You should have read the docket. It was right there at the end! ‘We may have time for handshakes.’”

“What’s a docket?” Chrome was plain baffled.

“Chrome,” Choline offered. “The thing summarizing the key points. I gave you a copy!”

“Oh, that docket… That’s why I hate these fancy words.”

Using weird names disrupted the whole flow of their response chain. It caused nothing but trouble.

Chrome glared down at the page, and there definitely was a mention of the king shaking people’s hands buried in the fine print.

His knees crumpled.

I’ve gotta stop this by any means necessary! Even if it means punching His Majesty!

“Such a tiny font!” Choline chortled. “Even if you had read it, you wouldn’t have taken it seriously.”

Heedless of Chrome’s concerns, the king barked orders to the people organizing the handshake event.

“Don’t be so shocked! This is a standard business practice! Raise everyone up with fancy jargon, then come back down to their level with a display of friendliness. Really helps with team synergy! I’m sure this surprise meet-and-greet event will work out just fine!”

“Please throw that book away.”

“I will become the world’s friendliest king, available to any and all! We’ll show how peaceful Azami is!”

“Abandon that idea.”

Might as well invite assassins in the door. Security as flimsy as your average JRPG king? Chrome felt dead already.

“Too much dedication is a problem in itself.”

“I think this issue is way beyond that…”

The king had his handshake event up and going—initiating phase one of his Approachable King Project in action.

This basically just involved shaking the hand of every adventurer on the way out while expressing his appreciation for their efforts. It was more like a celebrity’s fundraising event than the more hardcore handshake events that idols held.

This sudden, manufactured opportunity inexplicably impressed Lloyd.

“…I bet the king is trying to get a sense of everyone’s individual strength! He can tell how good they are just by shaking their hands! Very impressive.”

“Uh, sure, let’s go with that,” Riho said, shooting Chrome a look of pity.

The instructor was on his knees, unmoving, as if his heart was broken. Was he even breathing?

“Chrome, quit sulking! You’re my bodyguard, right?” the king demanded.

He raised a face stained with sweat and tears. “I would never have let this happen if I’d had the slightest clue…,” he rasped.

“You’re a grown-ass man! Quit your grumbling. You need to be more flexible!”

Grown-ass kings shouldn’t be hosting meet and greets without running it by their bodyguards first…but Chrome swallowed those words, taking his place at the king’s side.

“If any alarming fans appear, it’ll be your job to peel them aside. As the situation warrants! Flexibly!”

Can I peel you away from here?

It was far too late to stop things now, however.

Most adventurers appeared rather nonplussed, awkwardly shaking the king’s hand as they left.

Totally normal reaction.

One after another, they stepped up and offered a handshake. Every now and then, a particularly ugly adventurer would profess their profound gratitude, or an overly eager adventurer would try to shake Chrome’s hand instead of the king’s…but either way, the event seemed to be capturing the hearts of the people, whether that be with fear, gratitude, or sexual excitement.

“You sure are popular, Chrome!” Choline said. “You have my deepest sympathies.”

“Your face says otherwise,” he grumbled.

Indeed, her grin only got broader with every pass that came his way.

By this point, they’d worked their way through half the line.

“……”

An adventurer in a witch’s outfit, pointy hat and all, appeared before the king, offering her dainty hand.

“Oh, a bona fide witch! I expect great things from you!” the king boomed, and he shook her hand.

An instant later…

There was the sound of grating cartilage.

“Uhhhh, miss? You might be gripping me a bit too tight there! I appreciate the enthusiasm, but if you could tone it down just a bit…”

As he stammered, the brim of the hat rose, and Marie’s eyes gleamed beneath it.

“Oh, sorryyyy, I’ve just been such a big fan of yours, ever since I was a child.”

“O-ohhh?! Why are you—?!”

Between the surprise appearance of his daughter and the stabbing pains in his hand, the king’s voice had turned into a yelp of fear.

“You start things off with a bad pun,” Marie growled. “Then you offer up nonconsensual marriage as a reward and get so carried away you host a meet and greet? This is beyond mortal comprehension. I am. Truly. Impressed.”

Each of those last lines was accompanied by the sound of crunching bone. Clearly, it was the sound of the king’s cartilage giving way and his muscles ripping.

Paralyzed with fear, he looked to Choline and Chrome for help.

“G-guards… A little help here? Colonel Choline!”

She appeared momentarily distracted by her bangs, pretending not to notice.

“Oof, I’ve got some split ends! I gotta go in for treatment.”

“I bet you’ve never had treatment in your life!” the king roared.

“Your Majesty, I believe this situation calls for flexibility,” Chrome assured.

“She’s certainly testing the limits of my hand’s flexibility! Stop her, pleaaaase!”

His hand was definitely crumpling there. Any compound fractures would take at least six months to heal!

Meanwhile, Riho just cooed, “Ohhh, she’s pissed. Can’t blame her.”

“Any daughter would be furious if her father attempted this kind of event.”

“…There was no excuse for that ‘Whoo-hoo!’”

Once Marie was done thoroughly mangling her father’s hand, Chrome finally pulled her away.

“Ahem. Apologies to everyone here, but due to the king’s sudden illness…”

“Oh, let him keep shaking hands! You don’t want anyone thinking he’s ungrateful.”

“I do hate to appear ungrateful! I’d be happy to shake all your hands some other time.”

“If there’s a next time, it’ll be your spine!”

Marie made a strangling gesture with her hands, then stalked away. The king collapsed to the ground, looking quite unwell. This outcome had met projections. He’d earned his dues.

“Wow, Marie!” Lloyd said. “The king must have been very impressed with her strength. I knew she was the secret hero of the realm!”

“Uh, yeah, totally what happened,” Riho muttered, clearly way past caring.

Even as Marie strode away, however, she was still frowning to herself. “Forget the king… Why was Lloyd acting so distant from me earlier? It doesn’t make sense.”

Attending the meeting had done little to clear up that mystery. Marie concluded that her only option was to ask him directly.

Meanwhile, the seeds of trouble were beginning to sprout.

Micona was staring at the marriage reward, breathing heavily.

“This is perfect! I’ll gather all the upperclassmen, hit that dungeon up again, slay that monster, and rub it in their faces! Come on, everyone! No more guard duty! We got a dungeon to crawl! Ignore those dragons and go straight for that snake! Then Marie and I—”

But before she could finish, her minions interrupted her.

“Sorry, Micona… We can’t help you this time.”

The line of second-years behind her were all looking put out.

“Wh-what do you mean?” Micona asked. This sudden betrayal came as a shock to her. “We’re a year ahead of them! That should be all it takes—”

A particularly displeased student spoke for the group.

“Lloyd proved his strength to all of us last time. And not just that—he proved he’s a better man. He saved nearly all of us from those dragons… How can we hold a grudge against him after that?”

“That’s just another one of his tricks!”

“And you’re acting pretty weird, Micona. This is personal for you—and we want no part of it.”

“What? But we’re friends! Hey! Wait!”

Her followers were following her no longer. They turned their backs, returning to their posts.

Micona was left grinding her teeth, glaring furiously in Lloyd’s direction.

“Lloyd…Belladonnaaaa…”

Lloyd remained oblivious to the hostility aimed his way. He was flipping through the catalog, thinking to himself.

“…I’ve gotta do this… I will do it,” he muttered.

What was he so determined to do? And why was he pushing Marie away?

Meanwhile, the girls were observing him closely.

“Marriage… I’ve long thought we might require outside influence. This is the opportunity I’ve been waiting for.”

“Y-yeah, when you think about it, top-tier dungeons should have plenty of treasure, and I’d love to take a stab at one, and it might be worth killing that monster while we’re at it.”

“…Our time has come. That’s all.”

No one needed to point out that this could only lead to dire consequences.

Their minds were made up.

So was Lloyd’s.

Micona Zol…was still reeling from her setback.

Any of these sparks could’ve led to fires.

And…there was another force at work here.

One with deep ties to Kunlun…

After the briefing, Micona’s feet had carried her to Marie’s shop on the East Side again. She looked shell-shocked.

The events in the dungeon the day before—whether trickery was involved or not—had resulted in a humiliating defeat, and he’d even saved her life…and those of her minions. Lloyd had left her in a real bind.

She was alone now.

Her sigh drifted up toward the sky above.

This empty feeling had been with her ever since she’d been forced once more to face the fact that Lloyd had stolen the heart of her one true love.

“I’ve lost,” she whispered, unaware she spoke the words aloud.

Marie was probably inside her shop.

Micona’s muscles were still throbbing with pain from the buffs she’d stacked on herself the other day.

Not long ago, she’d have used that as an excuse to see her love…and that fact just made her sigh again.

If she saw Marie and Lloyd together now, it would break her heart. Perhaps it already was broken…

“I want to see her, but…”

Micona turned to go. She had no idea what to do next. Everything felt hopeless.

Drops of rain began to fall. Heedless of them, Micona paced forward blindly. The crowds around her scattered, trying to stay dry, but Micona couldn’t bring herself to care if she got drenched.

“What can I do…?”

The rain caught her whisper, carrying it to the ground at her feet. Mingled with the flowing water, it was swept far, far away. I wish my feelings and I could be swept out to sea, she thought, giving in to the despair.

“Is something troubling you?”

A pleasant voice. One that stepped right in and made itself at home.

Micona looked up to find a man standing in front of her.

He was getting on in years and had tried to shelter himself from the rain. It looked like something out of a movie.

Despite being clad in a red trench coat, the man reminded Micona of a clergyman or priest. She’d never been inside a confessional, but this was the type of person she imagined sitting across the wall.

“…Yes?” she said, brushing the wet hair out of her eyes.

He beckoned to her. She felt like she belonged next to him, under those eaves.

She joined him there without hesitation.

“You seemed troubled,” he observed, in the exact tone a doctor uses to inquire about your health. “Old men do love to fuss over other people’s problems.”

He stroked his chin as he said Old men. His hairline was receding a bit, and his eyes seemed calm—he was maybe in his early fifties. Had he not called himself old, Micona might’ve assumed he was in his forties, perhaps even taken him for a thirtysomething in disguise.

“What do I look like to you?” he asked quietly.

“A priest?” she said. Answering a question with a question was hardly polite, but she had to ask. She’d just been thinking she could open up to one.

He scratched his cheek, nodding slowly.

“Mm…I thought as much.”

“Um… Am I wrong?”

“Not quite right, not quite wrong. I’m something very similar.”

Then he crossed himself, looking the part.

He glanced up at the sky, at the clouds thickening above, at the rain dripping from the eaves.

“Doesn’t seem likely this will let up soon,” he noted, stepping right inside Micona’s heart. “So it doesn’t matter how long your story is. And if you don’t want anyone else to hear, I promise the drumming of rain will take care of that.”

Micona listened to the sound of the rain for a moment, and then she began to speak.

“The love of my life…was taken from me.”

She told the man her story. Her feelings and passion for Marie were evident in every word and gesture. It was clear how much this woman meant to her and how much her minions’ betrayal had hurt.

Once it was all out there in the open, Micona sighed, bubbles forming at her lips.

The man heard her out. Seeing the surge of emotions had waned, he asked, “So what do you want?”

“Hmm?”

“Sometimes, it’s not enough to state the facts and your feelings about them. Sometimes, you must not hide a thing. You should put your desire into words.”

“My…desire?” Micona looked up at him, eyes wide.

“Yes. What is your—?”

“I want to kill him,” Micona said without a second’s pause.

Her eyes had narrowed instantly.

The man must have sensed that Micona’s feelings were more convoluted than such a statement implied. His smile was a little bit sardonic.

“If I can escape Alka’s clutches…she’d be an asset. Hmm…”

While the man considered the matter, Micona let herself rage, heedless to his reaction.

“Kill him! Refute his very being! Show my classmates! Slaughter that filthy talking snake in that stupid dungeon! And marry my one true love!”

“A talking snake?” Emotion entered the man’s voice for the first time.

He’d maintained such calm, measured tones that this caught Micona off guard.

“Er…yeah.”

“Describe it. How did it speak?”

“Um…it was sort of arrogant? Tall enough to reach the dungeon ceiling. A weird scar on its back…”

“No doubt about it! I may be on the run, but…to find the thing I seek… This must be the hand of fate.”

With that, he turned and headed into the depths of the East Side.

“…? Where are you going? It’s still raining.”

Wasn’t he taking shelter?

“Come with me,” he said without looking back. “I will grant your desire… A small thanks for telling me about the snake and revealing my destiny.”

He didn’t seem to care about getting soaked.

“Come with you? Where are we going?” Micona asked again.

The man looked up at the sky.

“…Hmm, well, if I’m a priest… Perhaps a church?”

It was like he’d just thought of the idea.

Micona frowned, but if her desire was to be granted…she could only trail after him.

By the time they reached the church, the rain had turned into a downpour.

The sun had set, and it was too dark to see the church interior. The scent of mold suggested this place had been abandoned for some time.

“There are several buildings like this on the East Side. Location matters, whether you’re a church or a restaurant. Perhaps it’s blasphemous to speak of congregations like they’re mere customers…”

Speaking in level tones, the man in the red trench coat proceeded to light some candles. Clearly, they were remainders from when the church was in use. They flickered fitfully.

Micona glanced around. It looked like someone had been squatting here. There were very unchurch-like empty cans and beer bottles, as well as some old newspapers that had clearly been used as blankets…

Why would a priest bring me here? she wondered.

“Find a place to sit,” the man urged. “Someone will be joining us soon.”

Micona found herself accepting this. Something about his voice banished the doubt from her mind, and she followed his lead.

The groan of the decaying wood mingled with the patter of the rain.

These sounds made her uneasy.

As if excising that unease, someone flung the church doors open—marking a boisterous, flashy entrance.

“’Sup! Sorry I’m late! Why call me to the church out of nowhere? You suddenly start believing in god? After all that time swearing you could only rely on your own two hands? Very passionate!”

It was a young man with a deep tan who was dressed like a mountain climber. He entered with a rapid-fire burst of words that made it very clear he rarely listened to anyone.

The silence of a moment ago was now a distant memory, and Micona had all new reasons to be nervous.

“Don’t bring up the past the moment you arrive, Shouma.”

“Nah, I mean… Oh, who’s this girl?”

Noticing Micona, the young man went right over to her, looking her over from every angle.

“What?” she asked, frowning, not at all pleased to be treated like this.

“You have a sudden compulsion to pray? You come across a ruined church and just dash right in to meet the saints? Love your passion!”

“Of course not!” Micona snapped, jumping to her feet. This raised a cloud of dust.

The newcomer appeared delighted by this response. He glanced toward the older man.

“The love of her life was stolen by another, and she aims to get them back, even if she has to get rough. Think you can help?”

Shouma nodded violently, as if this all made perfect sense.

“Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes! So that’s why you looked like a priest? Full of passion, eh!”

“Looked? And why do you keep saying passion? This is serious!”

Most of what Shouma was saying bothered Micona, but he just seemed tickled pink by it all.

“Oof, I like it! Keep that drive going, girl! Don’t give up—no matter what you want, no matter what you have to do! I love it! The last person I helped was this gloomy introverted secretary, so this is even better! What did he think you were again?”

“A merchant, I believe. An affluent one, the kind who deals directly with governments. Never came across anyone so nakedly desperate to suck up to money before, but he did quite well for us.”

“I suppose you could pass as a merchant,” Micona offered. “But…no, you still look like a priest to me. What do you mean? Your appearance tells you something—?”

Shouma started reminiscing about the secretary, as if cutting that thought off before Micona could finish it.

“His frustration with his own powerlessness was just the best! I dug it. I helped him out a bunch, and that only endeared him to me! You know how parents love the problem children most of all?”

Micona had no idea who this secretary was, but the more Shouma talked, the more she wanted to punch him. When she took a step forward to land her attack, the older man spoke up.

“I hate to interrupt your fascinating story, but do you have anything for her?”

Shouma thought about this a moment. He started rummaging around in his pockets, muttering to himself.

“Hmm, stealing someone from a lover? Something to improve your appearance or charm them…”

Micona cut him off immediately.

“My appearance doesn’t matter. What I want is to end this thief’s life!”

Shouma smiled like a teacher handling an energetic student, shooting her a thumbs-up.

“To hell with good looks, right? Say no more! Oof, the passion! I’ve got just the thing for you!”

He produced a bottle and some pills from his pocket.

“Medicine?”

“That mess with the treants means they’re new and improved! We adjusted the blends so you don’t get so dang big. The other one’s from Abaddon—no special powers, but it lets you fly and boosts your physical abilities.”

Micona had never heard of treants or Abaddon, but she pounced on that last phrase.

Even with her Godspeed raising her abilities as high as possible, she’d been no match for Lloyd.

He could easily defeat her before she landed a single hit…

“Those sound highly sketchy…but also worth a shot.”

“Nice, nice! You found a good one! Here! Go on. Take whichever you like. I’ll grab some water…”

In the instant he looked away…

“If I’m gonna bring him down, I can’t beat around the bush!”

Micona washed the pills down with the liquid in the bottle, like she was taking her cold medicine with an energy drink.

“Ah,” the old man said.

Shouma realized she’d taken both. “Er, wait…uh…you took both of them? That sure is…passionate! Very passionate, but…yeesh…”

He blinked at her.

“What? Was that bad?”

“No one’s ever tried…”

Micona started coughing violently, like her body was forcing all the air out of her lungs. Her entire abdomen started convulsing.

Ba-dump. Ba-dump. It felt like her heartbeat was rocking her entire body.

“Will she survive?” the elderly man asked, entirely unperturbed.

“Only one thing I can say for sure.”

“Oh?”

“If she pulls through…that’ll be hella passionate!”

“…Oh.”

Micona was knocking over pews and candlesticks, unable to get herself under control.

“Pretty sure she’s got growing pains all over. The treant roots are acting like new muscles.”

“I wouldn’t know—I’ve never actually grown.”

The older man stroked his wrinkles. At his age—but he’d never grown? This would normally beg several questions, but Shouma seemed to understand what the other man had meant.

Micona’s back was swelling. Like a butterfly emerging from a cocoon, thin, colorful wings unfurled in a spray of blood.

“That would be Abaddon’s doing. After the wings grow, they usually get coated in a shell…but no telling what this mix will do.”

Shouma was scribbling in a notebook, watching Micona’s changes like a scientific child taking observations of morning glories.

The older man stood perfectly still, beholding it all.

Micona heard drops of water falling. It sounded like the rain had stopped. She saw a fallen candlestick and a broken candle… She must have knocked that over. The moonlight made it easy to see.

Strange noises came from all over her. Her bones creaked like she’d been asleep for far too long, but there was more to it than that.

She opened her eyes and stared at her hand. Alongside blood vessels, Micona could see something that resembled long, thin plant roots that were woven through every inch of her.

She sat up and felt an odd sensation coming from her back—as if there were two lightweight cloths attached to her.

When she stretched her spine, there was a rustle—a dry rasp from whatever it was. It did not take her long to realize these were wings.

“She’s awake,” noted a terribly calm voice.

Micona looked in the direction of the sound and found the elderly man looking back at her.

“What happened to me?”

She knew she’d changed, but a proper explanation felt necessary.

Shouma was suddenly right in front of her. He showed no concern for her well-being, launching right into an excited volley of words.

“Niiice! Very cool! Very passionate! You’ve done the impossible!”

Annoyed, Micona reached out a hand to silence him. She tried to grab his shirt.

“Stop saying passion! Tell me specifically what has ch—!”

In the instant she tried to grab him, roots stretched out from her hand, yanking on Shouma’s shirt for her. This felt entirely normal, as if the roots were her own hand and had always been there.

Shouma appeared delighted by this.

“Yes! You can do that now! Specifics? Well, you can stretch these roots out, and you’ve got wings, so I bet you can fly? Your legs are probably really powered-up, too. Your muscle fiber ought to have gone full locust.”

Micona forced herself to stay calm and examined her body again. There was a distinct sense that something had been threaded throughout her entire form. It felt light, and she could control both the roots and wings at will.

She saw herself in the shattered window glass.

“Is that…me?”

“You have been reborn,” the elder declared, as if he’d anticipated her reaction and prepared a speech. “Change is good. If your appearance is altered, that is no cause for dismay. Accept it as the blessing it is.”

“Yep, yep! Once you get used to it, it’s a blast! Abaddon’s power lets you fly, and the treant’s power lets you drain life energy from anyone and makes you super strong—what could be better?”

“Drain…energy? Super strong? A blessing…? I can kill that man…and Marie’s heart will be mine…”

Micona staggered to her feet, reeling the roots back into her hand. The motion had come on instinct.

“I’ll kill him… I’ll murder him…in that dungeon… I’ll take everything from him…”

Without so much as a glance at the old man or Shouma, Micona spread her wings and flew up into the sky.

Shouma watched her go, sounding deeply touched. “Man, you sure know how to pick ’em. Love powers all! Too passionate!”

“Previous transformations didn’t work out this way?”

“No way. No one’s been this into it! We’re talking the king and a soldier, right? It was all we could do to control them with Abaddon’s power. And the secretary never thought about anything except money… Wait, did we do anything to the Rokujou headmaster?”

“She had such gaping openings in her heart, a little brainwashing was all it took. That reminds me: We will need the Holy Sword eventually…but first, that snake monster.”

“You found it?!” Shouma gaped at the other man. “You’ve been searching for decades, right? About time…!”

The elder nodded.

“Yes… Apparently there’s a quest to exterminate it. That girl is taking part.”

“Whoa. Well, she’s got blessings that rival that of any demon lord, so she might just pull it off!”

“Naturally, to ensure success, I’ll be joining this quest myself. She should prove an excellent distraction.”

“Not about to let those decades go to waste, huh? Good thing you found it before it fully recovered.”

The old man put his hand to his chin, as if he just had so much to do.

He looked like the captain on a long sea voyage. If he dressed the part, everyone would’ve definitely thought as much.

“Hey, hey,” Shouma said cheerily. “If you exterminate it, there’s a reward, right? What are you gonna ask for?”

“Alka’s life and my freedom.”

Shouma’s grin deepened.

“I thought so! Let’s hope that passionate girl does the trick.” He looked toward where Mikona had flown off. Without a change in tone, he added, “We’d better get moving. Or the chief’ll sniff us out… Whoop, there she is. Let’s book it.”

The man glared at the darkness. “I envy those who can change,” he muttered.

“Change is coming! For the world and for you. C’mon!”

With those loaded statements, they vanished, leaving only silence.

The abandoned church stood still, as if nothing had happened.

Only the remnants of Micona’s thrashing remained.

Someone flew down from the sky above.

“Tch! A second too late! Lost their trail in the rain!”

Black hair in a pair of pigtails. A white robe slightly damp from her flight through the clouds. It was Alka.

Her eyes darted around the church like a detective investigating a crime scene. She picked up a shattered piece of stained glass.

“Fresh break… I dunno what you’re plotting this time, but I will thwart your ambitions.”

She tossed the shard away and rocketed off toward the sky.

“Say your prayers, Sou!”

Elsewhere…in the guardroom at the Azami Military Academy.

It wasn’t the most comfortable location, as it was only outfitted with a simple wooden desk and chair, a pile of gear, and a bed for naps.

It was here that the exhausted second-year cadets were waiting on standby.

“First, we’re guarding the king, and now we’re on night duty… They’re even working students to the bone, and it’s all that dungeon’s fault,” a beady-eyed cadet grumbled, slamming his cup down on the table.

“We’re getting paid for it, at least,” a nice-looking student consoled, trying to calm him down. “Hey, has anyone seen Micona?”

“Who cares?”

“We were pretty mean, though.”

“So what?”

A third upperclassman joined in, leaning against the wall. “Her motives have been dubious for a while now, but this time around, it became impossible to ignore. No helping her unless she admits to it and explains. We’re all agreed on that, right?”

The nice-looking one took a bite of a bread roll, nodding.

The beady-eyed one seemed frustrated just thinking about it. He turned toward a fourth student, who was sprawled on the bed. “Are you gonna sleep all night? Time for you to take a shift.”

“…”

There was no response. The beady-eyed student clicked his tongue and stood up.

“Wake the hell up…uh…”

He’d slapped the cadet’s cheeks and found them cold to the touch.

“What’s up?”

“Crap! He’s cold—and his breathing’s shallow!”

He grabbed a dangling arm and tried to find a pulse. Things weren’t looking great on that front, either. Panic brought a cold sweat to the brow of the beady-eyed student.

“Huh? He sick?”

“He can’t be! He was fine earlier… Hmm?” The cadet leaning against the wall heard a strange noise from the rafters. “There’s something above us.”

He grabbed a nearby weapon and went outside. The other students followed.

The sky was clear, and the moon was bright.

The patrolling guards were all flat on the ground. No visible injuries—they appeared to be sound asleep.

“Yo, what happened?” The nice one ran over to a fallen comrade.

“A monster,” one of them managed to rasp…and then promptly passed out.

“What monster?” he asked—as something flew across the moon.

They all turned in the direction of the figure.

On the roof…was a monster covered in a pitch-black shell, surrounded by writhing roots. Micona.

They knew her well enough to recognize her. The uniform helped.

The cadets readied their weapons, calling out, “Micona? Is that you?”

She seemed disinclined to answer.

When she spoke, it was to herself. “I never needed companions… They just turn on me.”

Vacant eyes stared through the mask on her face.

“Whether you bear arms against me or not is irrelevant. I’ll take everything from you.”

“Micona! What’s gotten into—?”

Before one of the cadets could finish, roots shot out of her sleeve, wrapping around his neck. It was over before he could even try to resist.

“I’ll take everything from you, Lloyd Belladonna! I’m strong even without my minions!”

“L-let go!”

“You’re no longer my companions. You’re nothing but nourishment.”

The snared student went limp, unconscious. His weapon fell to the ground with a clatter.

No one knew what was happening.

“The more I drain, the more powerful I become—but it’s still not enough.”

“Y-you can’t—”

“I need no one who would oppose me.”

“H-help—!”

“I need no cowards who turn and run.”

In the silence that followed, Micona reeled the roots back in, her hideous visage surveying the scene.

“I need no followers. You’re all food to me. Only Marie will be by my side.”

Losing interest in the sight of her fallen friends, she turned her gaze to the moonlit sky.

“On the day of the monster quest, when the most powerful adventurers assemble…I’ll gather their strength and take everything from Lloyd Belladonna—and then Marie will be mine!”

Micona spread her gossamer wings and took off into the sky above.