episode_0002

“I shouldn’t have read it….”

Looking back, it was a painfully regrettable thing. Could it be that I’ve been possessed by the debauchery of the novel just because I’m an avid reader of decadent novels? Does this even make sense?

If I had known this would happen, I would have been reading dragon possession novels instead of debauchery novels. At least that way, I wouldn’t have to endure as much suffering.

“Hmm? What did you say?”

John, who seemed a bit crestfallen at my refusal of his kindness, grinned and spoke again. Unnecessarily bright ears.

“No, it was just mumbling to myself. Don’t worry about it, go and rest.”

I replied somewhat coldly, then covered my face with the chin curtain and began wiping the blood off the sword blade with a piece of cloth.

It was an unspoken command that I had no intention of mixing words further.

“Oh… I see.”

Even a clueless country boy like him could understand this much, John didn’t press further, though he clicked his tongue slightly.

It was fortunate for both him and me.

Quietly, John returned to the other party members and sat down to chat with them, while I silently continued to wipe the sword blade.

It was a tedious but necessary task. If it were a magic-inscribed sword, it might be different, but if you neglect the maintenance of an ordinary iron sword, it won’t cut enemies but will get stuck and clatter.

When a sword stops in the middle of a fight like that, most people are likely to be shocked and scream their heads off.

The lifespan of fools who don’t know the state of their equipment is inevitably short.

◆◆

About ten minutes passed like that.

“Ahem, since everyone seems to have rested enough, let’s start getting up.”

Hans, who had been chatting with the other two party members for a while, cleared his throat and got up from his seat.

“Hey, didn’t I tell you to heal? You must have rested enough too, right? Let’s get going. We might end up falling behind at this rate.”

When did he start using informal language?

He calls himself an experienced adventurer, but is he just campaigning for votes? It’s not a pretty sight to see him barking out orders as if he’s the only skilled one among us.

“Yes. That’s right,” I nodded vaguely and got up.

There was no point in telling him not to use informal speech; it would only lead to unnecessary conflict. I didn’t want to waste time on such matters after completing the request.

Clang. Clunk.

The metal plates of my breastplate and pauldrons made a clinking sound.

Unlike the other adventurers who barely wore armor that was merely for show like shields or chest protectors, mine were well-crafted plate armors made of fine steel, bought with the money from selling the armor I wore when possessed. It was essential as my lifeline.

While the performance itself was several times better than the previous armor, selling it was a loss… but it couldn’t be helped. Wearing that armor in front of others was no different from announcing my true identity to everyone.

That’s why it was troublesome.

If my identity as an adventurer under the alias “Hilde” were revealed, it would bring threats far beyond goblins.

The threat that made me abandon everything without hesitation and flee the moment my true identity in this world was discovered—the threat of the fate of a fugitive heroine.

◆◆

As we retraced our steps through the dungeon passage for about an hour, I walked at the forefront alongside Hans, holding a shield, dressed like a heavy-armored swordsman. Jamie, the archer, leisurely whistled behind us, while John followed, guarding the rear in case of any potential ambush.

It was Hans’ suggestion to have rear guards protecting long-range attackers. Perhaps due to our age and experience in conquering dungeons, our formation was flawless.

A common mistake made by novice adventurers is to place all warriors in the front, leading to complete annihilation in a surprise attack. To prevent such a situation, it was necessary to have a lightly armored warrior like us positioned at the back of the group.

When enemies attacked head-on, I swiftly joined the front line to fight, and conversely, when they ambushed from the rear, I turned directly to protect priests, wizards, archers, and so on.

In other words, the current formation was indeed the most efficient arrangement for dungeon conquest.

Thunk!

…It was also very effective to turn former party members into “spoils.”

“Ha, damn it.”

Cursing involuntarily, I swung my left arm back, hurling my greatsword towards the approaching enemy as if throwing it.

Kaaahh!

The clash of metal reverberated through the dungeon walls.

A heavy impact struck my left gauntlet, and the greatsword, which had deflected a sword aimed at my leg, vibrated lightly at my fingertips.

“You think you blocked it?!”

“Darn it, did they notice?!”

Astonishment and curses brushed past my ears. I grimaced, quickly scanning the state of the thugs who had suddenly launched an attack behind my visor.

“No shield, but with what forearm…?!”

Jamie pulled out a new arrow and urgently backed away, startled by the sight of arrows being deflected without even looking, his dilated pupils trembling.

“You should have shot the legs, not the arms!”

Hans, who had drawn his sword to strike, had a frozen grip and a contorted face. Already ugly enough, he looked like no one else but a hillbilly involved in human trafficking and loan sharking.

Bastards.

“Seeing how well-matched their hands and feet are, it seems they’ve done this kind of thing more than once. No wonder they look like a bunch of thieves from the start.”

There was no longer any reason to be polite. Whether it was Hans or Jamie, they were just troublemakers based on their appearance alone.

Taking advantage of the fact that the staff at the request office didn’t care about the lives of lower-level adventurers, these scoundrels reported killing and then looted their party members in the blind dungeons.

They were the kind of human scum one would frequently encounter when pretending to be a lower-level adventurer in a woman’s body.

Of course, since the staff at the request office were not scum, they suspected and monitored adventurers with an unusually high mortality rate as potential raiders…

It seemed to me that they didn’t take it as seriously as they should have.

Unless deaths occurred every time, they tended to overlook party members dying about once every ten times. Consequently, such individuals were abundant among lower-level adventurers.

“Did I look that easy?”

I, in particular, encountered these types quite frequently, almost every three days.

Was it because I wore excessively formidable armor compared to my rank? Or perhaps due to the lascivious body language that could be inferred even when wearing a helmet, befitting a protagonist of an original work?

…Perhaps it could be both. From the looters’ perspective, it might feel like a two-for-one deal, don’t you think?

Regardless, now that the ambush had failed, all that remained was the battle.

“Tsk, now that it’s come to this…!”

“Do your best.”

I gripped the drawn longsword with both hands and, filled with animosity, swung it towards Hans who was pushing his dented shield forward.

Clang!

Wood chips flew out like sparks. A silvery flash scratched roughly against his shield.

In retaliation, I deflected the flying shortsword with the gauntlet on my arm and swiftly sidestepped, dodging two arrows.

Thud!

The missed arrow collided with the dungeon wall, leaving a mark as it ricocheted away.

“Sneaky little rat…!”

“Well, where should I be quick next?”

The skirmish continued. Perhaps due to the torchlight, a dim glow of the sword flashed through the air, and the clear sound of metal clashing mixed with curses echoed confusingly.

◆◆

“Argh…!”

Before long, Hans staggered back, letting out a rough scream, blood streaming from a hole pierced through his left arm, tightly clenched by his opposite hand.

“Not much. Even when the two of you gang up, is this how it ends?”

A clear disadvantage. It was practically a decided injury.

Pressing the edge of the shield under him, the thrust longsword pierced through his crude chainmail like a needle through cloth, piercing through muscles and bones inside without mercy.

If Jamie’s arrow hadn’t flown at that moment, I could have completely severed his arm… Well, this was enough.

His arm had been severed, so it was impossible for him to wield a shield with that arm now.

“Well, I guess he was either an adventurer or a bandit. How did he manage to cut through the iron armor? Did he scavenge a corpse or something?”

Was the mocking of his weakness a jab at his pride?

“Damn…! Jon! What are you doing, you idiot! Stop dawdling and help!”

Hans, glaring at me, suddenly turned around and barked fiercely in a strained voice.

“Oh, y-yes!”

The axe-wielder, who had been standing dumbfounded by the sudden attack, abruptly nodded and rushed towards me.

“Hmph.”

That country bumpkin was also involved.

No, considering how he had been standing there blankly until now, he must have been involved from the start.

In that case, were they discussing ambushing and robbing me during the recent break time?

Yeah, that seems likely.

Just like the three brothers who shared a drink using peaches as appetizers, they probably conspired to divide and conquer my body, making me their victim.

In other words, I was guilty.

I merely accepted the offered water and didn’t retaliate, yet they attempted to rob and kill me. Isn’t that an excessive retaliation for such a minor offense?

“Uwaaaah!”

John, who had suddenly rushed up to me, swung his axe like a lumberjack, shouting wildly.

“Now’s the time! Charge!”

Hans and Jamie also seemed to think it was their chance, brandishing their swords and shooting arrows.

It was a scene reminiscent of the old saying about three against one.

“Pitiful.”

I let out a shallow sigh and pulled my sheathed sword behind my shoulder.

There was no tension.

Three against one is what it is. Three half-men against one full warrior. Even if you combine the two, it still falls short of a complete warrior.

They were still not three, but just two.

And…

The number 2 is a sign of defeat. The man who had suffered three of the same technique had personally proven to me the truth of the world.

The certainty that there was no reason to lose.

A downpour of swordlight poured forth.