Is It Wrong to Try to Pick Up Girls in a Dungeon? On the Side: Sword Oratoria, Vol. 4

by Fujino Omori, Kiyotaka Haimura

  “What with the expedition tomorrow, why don’t we head back early?”

  At Aiz’s suggestion that they vacate their Dungeon training room, however, Lefiya’s head rose, and she interjected with another suggestion.

  “Actually, I…I would still like to do a bit of fine-tuning on my own.”

  “Sure…It’s fine. Just don’t push yourself too hard, okay?” Aiz responded, not pressing her further.

  She excused herself from the room, almost as though sensing something in the elf’s demeanor, and left Lefiya alone among the phosphorescent walls and ceiling.

  She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath.

  At length, she began to perform once more, staff gripped between her hands and the songs of her people on her lips.

  Periodically double-checking her movements, periodically releasing a beam of light at an oncoming monster, she trained.

  As long as time permitted, she reviewed and practiced again and again and again.

  “…I should head back,” Lefiya muttered some hours later as she drew a pocket watch from her clothing and checked the time.

  Her silver elven pocket watch, crafted to resemble a tree and leaves, indicated it was already well into the evening hours.

  Shutting the lid with a snap, Lefiya took off for the exit, stopping just in front of the door for a last look at the room where she’d spent so many hours training during the past few days.

  I learned so much here, she thought with a faint smile. This would be the last time she’d leave.

  “Perhaps I stayed a bit too long…” Lefiya mused before leaving that western room on the Dungeon’s fifth floor and dashing toward the surface.

  Thinking back to how enthusiastically she’d taken Aiz’s words to heart, she returned to the floor’s main route, currently flooded with other people. She progressed to the upper levels, taking out the odd monster or two and passing a good number of her fellow adventurers along the way.

  Maneuvering through Onset Road, as the large passageway on the first floor was called, she proceeded up the spiral staircase to the large hole that led to the surface and emerged on the ground floor of Babel Tower.

  She was just about to make her way through the gate and into the sprawling Central Park when she ran into a familiar face.

  “Ah!”

  “Ah!”

  Their short cries of surprise overlaid each other as their gazes met.

  She saw those unforgettable rubellite eyes and hair as white as virgin snow.

  He hefted a giant backpack on his shoulders and stood beside a young werewolf girl with long grayish-brown hair. One of his adventurer companions?

  On his way back from the Dungeon, no doubt, he appeared completely spent, but after crossing paths with Lefiya, the two of them stopped short.

  The werewolf girl eyed the two of them curiously as other adventurers bustled around them.

  Lefiya was the first to move.

  Eyebrows rising, she raised a slender finger and pointed it with an almost audible SNAP at the bemused boy.

  “I won’t lose!”

  The boy simply stood there, bewildered, with his eyes as round as saucers. Lefiya ran.

  Out through the gate, into the park as the eyes of the baffled werewolf girl and her fellow adventurers seared into her back.

  The conviction she was saving for tomorrow’s expedition and the resolution she’d made to that boy.

  Holding those two feelings close, she bolted through the square that was all awash in reds. In and out, in and out, she weaved through the crowd.

  She ran toward the fiery crimson of the setting sun and didn’t look back.

  “If you would, please, Lokiiiiiii!”

  “Fer cryin’ out loud! Just how many of you guys are out there?!”

  Night had fallen.

  A mighty roar bellowed from Twilight Manor, home of Loki Familia.

  The cry originated in Loki’s bedroom atop the centermost spire in the outcropping of towers. A line of the goddess’s precious little followers had formed outside her door at the peak of its winding staircase.

  “This is ridiculous! How could this many of ya need yer Statuses checked?! The night before the expedition, even—good grief!”

  It was true—every single one of them was waiting for a turn to update their Statuses. Men and women alike had flocked to Loki’s tower in hopes of applying their excelia before tomorrow’s expedition.

  Loki had specifically warned them not to wait until the last moment to update their Statuses in order to avoid this, but her advice had fallen on deaf ears. Consumed by the need to train, they’d beaten themselves up, polished their skills, and collected every last bit of excelia they could until the last second possible. Though the feeling was understandable, so was Loki’s lament.

  “Damn training craze, damn Aizuu…” Loki cursed the golden-haired airhead under her breath as she diligently went to work updating Statuses for that girl’s brethren. She wasn’t about to turn them away, given even the tiniest boost could mean the difference between life and death on the rigorous expedition ahead.

  “Gods-dammit! Not even enough time to cop a few feels!”

  “Thank yoooooou!”

  Loki could practically feel tears of blood running down her face as she remorsefully watched a beastwoman exit the room with her tunic removed, taking that smooth curve of her back and those beautiful breasts with her.

  It was a veritable frenzy, and she barely had room to breathe. No matter how many of her followers’ Statuses she updated, the line outside her door refused to shorten. That was the problem with having a big familia—it was a lot of work, too.

  The short hand of the clock made first one circle, then two as it neared midnight.

  “I’m…I’m done!”

  As the last gentleman took his leave with a word of thanks, Loki gazed out at the complete lack of people in front of her door.

  Pushing it closed, she heaved a sigh that was equal parts delight and relief.

  Not more than a second later, the door burst back open, almost as though it’d been planned.

  “Yo, Loki! Update my Status, will ya?”

  “Guh…Beeeeeeeete…” Loki collapsed onto her bed upon the young werewolf’s entrance. “Can’t ya see I’m dyin’ here?”

  “How the hell was I supposed to know, huh?” Bete responded, indifferent to the silent tears Loki cried into her bedsheets. He pulled a chair over next to her and sat himself down.

  “If only I coulda ended with someone like Aiz…Least then I coulda gotten a little thrill as a reward. But no…It had to be Bete…” Loki grumbled to herself.

  “Screw you.” Bete pulled off his battle jacket. “It takes you, like, one second, so just do it already!”

  “Yeah, yeah.”

  Bete turned his bare back to Loki, surrendering himself to the goddess’s touch.

  Unlocking and quickly raising the crimson hieroglyphs on Bete’s back, Loki proceeded to update his Status.

  “Comin’ here after everyone else has already left…You wouldn’t happen to be trainin’ by yerself all secret-like, are ya?”

  “How the hell did you know?!”

  Loki just snickered. “My little secret.”

  The goddess out of sight behind him, Bete didn’t even try to keep the exasperation from his face.

  She grinned to herself before running her finger, wet with ichor, over his back.

  “I bet some of those kids who’re scared of ya now would come right up to you if they knew ’bout your secret training sessions. So out of character, y’know? Some people go fer that. That’s a comfortin’ thought, ain’t it?”

  Bete let out a sharp laugh. “What do I care about making friends with weaklings?” The werewolf so feared by everyone beside the familia elites simply scoffed, briefly muttering, “Stupid,” as Loki’s finger continued to flow across his back without pause.

  His amber eyes stared angrily at the far wall.

  “It’s us strong folks’
duty to look down on the small fries from on high. Our right.”

  “…”

  “If we don’t laugh and spit on ’em, who will? We’ll just end up with a buncha idiots who don’t know their place,” Bete continued, voice dripping with irritation. “They should be lookin’ up to us so much they break their necks. Those namby-pambies…They’re so weak, it’s disgusting.”

  Though he didn’t say it explicitly, it was clear his words were aimed at the throng of familia members desperately struggling to catch up after Aiz leveled up.

  Loki was silent as she listened, staring at Bete’s finely chiseled back and the faint scars that covered his skin. She closed her eyes before letting out an abrupt puff of laughter.

  Finishing his Status update, she translated the results into Koine.

  “Yer abilities have really shot up, Bete.”

  “How much?”

  “’Bout three levels.”

  “Shot up, my ass!” Bete snatched the translated update results from her hands with a howl.

  “Nah, come on! Fer a Level Five to get these kinda results on their own, it’s really somethin’!” Loki assured him with a laugh.

  The werewolf just huffed and puffed, his eyes burning holes through the form. “This ain’t shit…”

  Glancing around at the wine bottles and other knickknacks proliferating Loki’s room, he lit the candle on her desk before burning the update form.

  “…Yeah, yeah, we get it. You’re a tough guy.”

  As Bete pulled his jacket over his shoulders and headed for the door, Loki called out from her place on the bed.

  “Tough enough to protect everyone down there. You’ll do that fer me, yeah?”

  Who knew how many dangers awaited them on their upcoming expedition? As the goddess’s words reached his ears, the werewolf stopped in the doorway and glanced back over his shoulder.

  “…Ha. You didn’t choose a buncha asses, ya old hag.”

  Now it was Loki’s turn to look surprised, rarely as it happened. Bete just grinned.

  “They may be chumps, but they ain’t cowards. They can take care of themselves.”

  Loki looked long and hard at her ever-disobedient child.

  Then she smiled.

  She woke up on her own.

  It was morning. The day of the expedition.

  Aiz slowly cracked her eyes open at the sun filtering in from the crack between the curtains.

  Pushing herself up from her bed in her room at the manor, she threw a glance first at Desperate leaning against the wall, then out the window, her eyes narrowing.

  There was nothing but clear blue sky as far as the eye could see.

  “Leeeeet’s do this!”

  “Do you have to be so loud? Just shut up and get ready…”

  Tiona and Tione emerged boisterously from their beds in their two-person room.

  It was time to get their things ready. The expedition they’d been waiting for had finally arrived. As the older of the two wrapped her battle clothes around her ample chest and slender legs, her younger sister—already changed—opened up their chest’s shelves and began tossing items out left and right, stuffing anything they might need into her pack.

  As Tione grumbled and complained, the floor quickly became buried in Tiona’s possessions.

  Her pareu swishing back and forth, Tiona turned finally to collect her large double-edged sword from its spot against the shelf.

  “This expedition is our chance to catch up with Aiz!”

  She gripped the oversize weapon by the handle, its blades glinting with a brilliant luster.

  “Lefiya, I’m heading out!”

  “Ah! All right! I will be there shortly!”

  Lefiya hurriedly returned to her preparations as her roommate stepped out the door.

  Turning to the mirror, she set to work on her long golden hair, holding the silver barrette accessory between her teeth to free her hands until she could tie it back in her usual ponytail.

  Once everything was secured, she took a last look in the mirror and nodded with a little “Okay!”

  “…”

  She rose from her chair with her staff, Forest’s Teardrop, already at her side and glanced down at the palms of her hands.

  As though checking the magic strength her brethren—no, her friends—had bestowed upon her, she squeezed her hands into tight little fists.

  Then, head popping back up, she slung the cylindrical supporter’s backpack over her shoulder and took off out the door.

  “Ah! Bete!”

  They were out in the garden of the manor, carting some of the large-scale cargo and other materials.

  The lower-ranking members of the familia were at work gathering everything from tents and spare armor to the thirty-plus weapons (magic sword included) they’d be taking on the expedition, inspecting and organizing everything accordingly.

  Everyone, willing or not, was nervous and excited about the big day, and in the midst of all the chatter, Raul, in charge of instructing his fellow familia members, spotted Bete emerge from the tower’s entryway.

  His gauntlets and silvery metal boots shone brightly in the sun.

  “G-good morning!” Raul took the initiative and greeted the werewolf, easily the most restless of all the other first-tiers.

  “Well, aren’t you all takin’ yer sweet time?!” Bete spit his response at both Raul and their surrounding colleagues.

  They visibly shrank back, since Bete himself was already greatly feared among the lower-ranked members, and Raul could feel the sweat forming on his temple as he forced a laugh.

  “Ah-ha-ha-ha…”

  In spite of everything, the fact that Bete was no different from normal even before the big expedition was almost strangely calming.

  “Aiz and the others aren’t here yet?”

  “Th-they aren’t, sir! I’ve received word that Miss Tiona and her sister are currently eating breakfast in the mess hall, but it seems Miss Aiz is still in her room,” Raul continued, pushing forward despite the surrounding atrophy.

  Bete came to a stop. “Really? She’s not gonna eat anything? That goddamn woman…” he muttered, cursing under his breath as he turned around and headed back the way he’d come.

  Raul didn’t know if the werewolf was on his way to eat or headed up to Aiz’s room, but either way, as he watched Bete walk away, he found himself thinking the strangest thought.

  What a nice guy…

  “…”

  Finn was down on one knee, hand to his chest in his room, located in the manor’s northernmost tower.

  He was silent, eyes closed, a grand tapestry covering the wall in front of him and a statue of a goddess occupying a spot atop the nearby shelf.

  Both the tapestry, woven in gold and silver, and the plaster statue, a spear in its hand, portrayed the same woman—the fictitious though greatly worshipped goddess of the prums, Phiana.

  “You up, Finn?…Oops, sorry. Didn’t mean to intrude.”

  “No, it’s fine. I’m finished.”

  Gareth and Riveria made to leave as soon as they saw Finn kneeling in front of Phiana, but Finn stopped them before they could retreat, opening his eyes and pushing himself to his feet.

  Concluding his prayer, he turned away from his beloved goddess to face his two closest friends.

  “Prep work’s finished. Everything’s packed ’n’ good to go.”

  “Understood. Thank you, Gareth.”

  “We were hoping to have a final meeting before heading out. We need to organize everyone into the two parties we’ll maintain until the eighteenth floor,” said Riveria.

  Finn walked over, and they formed a circle. The three heads of Loki Familia quickly busied themselves making their final check before the expedition.

  “How is everyone doing, Riveria?” Finn inquired, wrapping up their meeting.

  “I worry about their constitution, considering how much they’ve been training lately…but I don’t see it becoming a problem. They’re all in t
op physical condition.”

  “We got ourselves a bunch of young hot shots, that’s why. Morale is high.”

  As voices began drifting in from the direction of the garden, Gareth crossed his arms in front of his chest, eyes narrowing.

  “Aiz and the rest of the young’uns have finally grown up…Just us three fogies still around to remember what it was like back then,” he mused, thinking back to when their familia had first formed.

  “We’re not retired yet, Gareth,” Riveria replied, closing her eyes with a smile.

  As Finn looked up at the two of them, he felt his expression slowly change.

  “The day has finally come. Today, we’ll take on the unexplored depths left to us by Zeus and Hera…If we prove successful, our names will be known across the world once more.”

  There was a glimmer of steadfast resolve in the prum’s green eyes, the strong ambition to restore his race’s renown in the back of his mind.

  “You haven’t had enough yet? There isn’t a prum around that doesn’t know your name, Finn,” Riveria commented.

  Finn, however, just closed his eyes and shook his head.

  “As far as famous prums in Orario, I know only Bringar of Freya Familia…But as for my brothers who live outside the city, I have very little renown.”

  The number of prums with any sort of reputation in not only Orario but the whole world was few enough to be counted on one hand. As Finn relayed this, his eyes dropped to his fist.

  “Prums need a chance to shine, an opportunity to wave their banner of courage.”

  They had to have the kind of hope personified in Phiana, who had supported them since the Ancient Times.

  And we’ll spare nothing, no matter the sacrifice, as long as it’s for the sake of that hope—his heart added.

  “It doesn’t end here. No matter what awaits, I shall press forward.” Finn raised his head, resolve coursing through his petite figure.

  Gareth looked down at the tiny adventurer and stroked his beard with a laugh.

  “Good gracious…You really haven’t changed a bit, Finn. More ambition in those pint-size bones of yours than some men got in their whole bodies. And never givin’ a damn what others think about it, either!”