When Aiz glanced back up, Loki had a huge smile on her face, and she reached forward to tousle the swordswoman’s golden hair as though awarding her a gold star. Aiz scrunched one of her eyes shut, not even bothering to push the goddess away despite how much it tickled.
“I feel the same, Aizuu. But considerin’ how stubborn Tiona and the others are actin’, there’s no one else I can go to to help fix this but you. Finn’s got my hands tied, after all.”
“…”
“If yer still feelin’ a little anxious, though, you can always go to Lefiya for help. Whaddaya say, huh? Can I count on you?”
“…Yes, I’ll…do it.”
The short answer brought another smile to Loki’s face, and the goddess patted her on the shoulder. As the rest of her colleagues filed their way out of the room, Aiz threw her gaze toward the window and the sunlight filtering in.
“A magic item with a weird symbol thingy carved into it…?”
Back in the Pleasure Quarter and the high-class brothel Lena had been using as her secret spot beneath the shadow of the city’s eastern wall…
Having moved to the courtesans’ old living quarters on the first floor, Lena was currently stuffing her face with bread from her stash, gazing down at a piece of parchment in her hand. On it was a rough sketch of the item in question—Bete’s handiwork, with just enough detail to be discernible.
“You’re looking for this thing? By the way…you sure you don’t want anything to eat?”
“You think I wanna be even more in debt, you hag? I’ve got enough on my plate as it is!”
“It wouldn’t be like that at all, and you know it! I even made this myself!”
“All the more reason not to…” Bete grumbled to himself as though he hadn’t heard.
Indeed, sandwiching Lena and the table was a whole smorgasbord of simple Amazonian dishes—cut it up, toss it on the fire, and serve. Throwing a glance at the sliced dried meats and bread, the cheeses and honey, Bete looked back up, returning to the topic at hand.
“Your damn goddess mighta had somethin’ like this. Ain’t it familiar at all?”
“Hmm…” Lena murmured as she took a swig of magic-stone-refrigerated milk. Staring long and hard at the D symbol carved into the surface of the ball in the sketch, she raised her gaze to search Bete’s face. “…Though I can’t say for absolute sure…I feel like I’ve definitely seen something like this before…maybe?”
“Really?!” Bete demanded, hand on the table as he leaned toward the girl. Lena nodded boastfully. “Then hurry up and tell me, would ya?!”
“For free?!”
“Huh?”
“That was some embarrassment you put me through last night…I may need a little something to get my mouth working again,” she continued, eyes closing as her lips curled upward with salacious intent.
Bete’s cheek twitched. “You askin’ for a beating, you damn witch?”
“Such violence! This is the negotiation table, don’t you know? The whole point is not to offend the opposing party…Even an Amazon like me knows that!”
“Oh, quit your whining! If that mouth of yours won’t listen, I’ll make sure your body does!”
“Then you’ll question my body? Oh my, Bete Loga! I see you’re quite bold even in broad daylight!”
“Stop hearing only what you wanna hear!”
The fight from the night prior continued, but no matter how much he yelled, it had no effect on Lena, who was sitting prettily with her hands clasped against her cheeks for the moment.
She was possibly the most vexing human being Bete had ever come across. If she had been a normal adventurer, he’d have grabbed her collar right then and there and beat the daylights out of her. But considering the girl in front of him now would probably enjoy that, this made her particularly difficult to deal with. If not nauseating to deal with.
Never in his life had he imagined that someone being attracted to him could be worse than someone who hated or feared him.
Though perhaps it was a little late to say it, he was finally starting to empathize with Finn, given how Tione was usually glued to him. He almost wanted to apologize to the prum captain.
“If you’re not gonna tell me, I’ll just ask another one of you damn Amazons!”
“But maybe I’m the only one who knows about this little ball, hmm? Plus, do you really expect Aisha and the others to bare everything to the one who took them to town last night? It’s just like back in Meren, hmm?”
“Guh…?!”
She had a point. The “repulsive werewolf” was more likely to get spit on than get any sort of information out of the other Amazons. Which meant the only negotiation partner he had left was Lena.
As Bete struggled to find his voice, Lena shot him a wink, drawing a miniature circle in the air with her finger. “Besides, isn’t that the rule of you adventurers? To always pay for your information?”
Bete clenched his canines together as hard as he could.
He already knew the incorrigible girl in front of him wasn’t going to ask for money or any other “normal” payment for the information he sought.
“…What do you want, then?”
“For you to give me a baby! —Kidding, kidding, just kiddiiiiing!” She quickly backpedaled as Bete raised his fist up in a sincerely murderous move. Sweat soaking her forehead as she racked her brain, she finally popped her head up with a smile.
“Go on a date with me, Bete Loga!”
Later that day, when the morning sun had just crested over the city’s walls and the thrum of daily life had returned to its streets…
Northwest Main Street, nicknamed Adventurers Way, was as busy as always, filled to the brim with demi-humans on their way to explore the Dungeon. The nearby Dian Cecht Familia facility, as well—the solid-white field hospital—boasted its own fair share of visitors.
It was here, in the hospital’s pharmacy, that the high elf Riveria stood.
Across from her at the counter was the silver-haired human girl Amid Teasanare.
“Were you able to discern anything from the dagger in question?”
“Indeed, we’ve completed our inspection. However, I really must say…There is something undeniably queer about that weapon,” Amid replied, her voice hard as she dropped her eyes to the obsidian dagger lying atop the counter.
It was a cursed weapon—endowed with an Unhealable Curse.
It was also the same weapon that had been used to slay Leene and the others down in Knossos, retrieved by Aiz herself.
“It boasted quite a curse…I still remember when you brought Captain Finn in with it. None of the items currently in circulation had any effect. It was only by my magic that we were able to make any headway, and it required an extraordinary amount of Mind…” Amid’s tiny hands clenched visibly as she relived the memory in her head. “I even tested it on my own body later. Not even protective accessories or magic items had any success in resisting the curse,” she finished, voice grave.
“No way to defend against it and nigh un-liftable save for the magic of Dea Saint. A powerful curse, indeed…”
Existing equipment and items were entirely ineffective, both in protection and as restoratives. Though perhaps what worried Riveria even more was the thought that there were more of these weapons out there.
The sword the creature Levis had used against Aiz and Finn, the abandoned dagger before them now that had been used against Leene and the others, and even the weapons Tione’s assassin opponents had used against her had all been capable of inflicting this dreadful curse with merely a single graze.
Which meant the enemy had at least one person crafting these vexing weapons for them.
“For a hexer to be able to craft cursed weapons such as these…their power must be incalculable—far beyond our wildest imagination. Either that…or they’re being guided by some kind of crazed delusion…” Amid mused, the outline of some faceless yet assuredly unbalanced hexer beginning to take shape in her mind.
&n
bsp; Riveria couldn’t have agreed more.
There was a chance these Evils’ Remnants had all the cursed weapons they could possibly want, which meant going in without a plan would only force them to make more sacrifices. If they were going to return to Knossos, they not only needed to get their hands on one of its keys but also do something about these weapons.
“Then the anti-curse I ordered. Do you think you’ll be able to craft it?”
“…It will be difficult, to be frank,” Amid confessed, the fatigue plaguing her features evidence enough as to the countless times she’d already attempted to craft the curse-repelling medicine in question. And thanks to her near-translucently pale skin, the fatigue looked almost painful. “But…I will do my best. I can’t allow such a weapon to exist,” she finished, dauntless will coloring her voice. It was a rare sight to see the delicate doll of a girl express such strong emotion. After throwing a bitter glance down at the dagger on the counter, she returned her gaze to Riveria. “I will defeat this curse.”
“…We’re counting on you,” Riveria pleaded, almost as though entreating a saint.
The blade of the scimitar bisected the monster’s chin in one clean swipe.
“Gwwwwuuuuoooogggh!”
“Yah!”
Continuing through, it sent the head of the bull-headed minotaur flying. Her long black hair tied up in a ponytail, the girl sliced through the dim gloom of the grotto in a flash. The monster dealt with handily, she continued forward and toward the large swarm now gathered in front of her, aiming a sweeping kick.
“Bete Loga! C’mon, let’s go! We’re on a date! We’re on a date!”
“I never imagined the dating scene would be so brutal…” Bete grumbled, a bit stupefied at the antics of the smiling, waving, slaughtering girl. His hands shoved in his pockets, he delivered a kick to an incoming hellhound that shattered its cranium.
They were in the Dungeon’s middle levels, the “Cave Labyrinth.”
More specifically, on the seventeenth floor—the stronghold of the third-tier adventurers.
It turned out what Lena really wanted was a “Dungeon date,” quite possibly the least romantic idea for a date ever. Certainly, fighting and killing together as a method of increasing one’s affinity with another made perfect sense when it came to the brute-force social skills of the Amazons, though Bete wasn’t sure if this truly applied to all Amazons or just the one in front of him in particular.
If they weren’t fighting on the streets, they were fighting between the sheets.
That was all Amazons knew. Though for Bete, this was more of a godsend than a flaw, as the idea of a normal “date” about made him want to puke.
“Look, look, look! Isn’t this al-miraj the most adorable thing you’ve ever seen?!” Lena cried out as she sent the lovable rabbit monster sailing with a mighty SPROING!
“Gyaaaaaaaah!”
“You say as you beat the living shit out of it.”
The brutish spectacle was so far removed from an ordinary date that had Lefiya and the others been there, they’d have fainted on the spot. As the girl annihilated everything in her path in her excited, happy flailing, her slashes cut deep despite her feminine antics.
“Just knowing that Bete Loga is here beside me is enough to shoot me to the moon!” she announced, scimitar in her right hand and gold-lined arm protector on her left. She used the thick metal to ward off her enemies’ attacks as she set her blade awhirl in a dance allegro. It was an altogether unique battle style; the rapid movements made her look more like a spinning top than anything else. She held nothing back as her slender curved limbs executed her every power-packed move and her bare feet slammed into the teeth of the nearby liger fangs with such force they rendered their faces unidentifiable. Every attack sent her undersize loincloth dancing, revealing again and again the white undergarments and copper thighs beneath. Even the arm protector on her left hand became a weapon when she smashed it straight into the monsters’ flesh and shattered the bones inside.
A Level 2, huh? And about to level up again, by the looks of it…Seems she’s got no problem against monsters up to the twenty-fourth floor or so, Bete mused, eyes narrowed as he watched the girl throttle swarm after swarm of monsters with no need of help from him.
She was undeniably beautiful—radiant, almost, with the way the sweat was flying off her. And suddenly Bete realized her plan: After all, what man would be able to resist seeing her now? Well, sans the terrifying howls and spattering blood, perhaps.
“Outta my way,” Bete growled, aiming a kick at a nearby minotaur that Lena had let escape and debilitating it with a single strike.
“Gwuuuaaaagh?!”
“Oh, I knew it! You really are strong!”
And with that, the battle was over. The Amazonian girl seemed satisfied, taking deep, heavy breaths. She then proceeded to run around from pile of ash to pile of ash, collecting the fallen magic stones and drop items in place of the completely unhelpful bump on a log, Bete.
She didn’t seem the least bit concerned that her perpetual high was starting to grate on Bete’s nerves. Just thinking about what they must look like to any other adventurers passing by made Bete want to melt, and he twisted his face into what must have been the thousandth grimace already since the night before.
“This is so much fun! On a Dungeon date with Bete Loga!”
“Yeah. ‘Fun.’”
“My heart feels like it’s about to burst out of my chest! But since I can’t see your face that well, I wanna hide it by throwing myself into battle after frenzied battle!”
Bete truly didn’t understand how the girl could be having so much fun.
Bouncing over, she shot him a grin, her tiny tongue poking out from between her lips.
This girl, Lena Tully, was an entirely different kind of “simple” than Tiona. Bete’s one consolation was that she was at least smarter than the other Amazon, but she still couldn’t “read the room,” so to speak, for the life of her. Perhaps this was thanks to the fact that her naivete was more lovesick-induced than hereditary.
“…Do you Amazonian witches flaunt your gravy at any old macho thug who walks by?”
“Huh? Oh, no! Not at all! Not. At. All! That’d mean Aisha and the others would be all over you right now, hmm? Since you beat them and all?” Lena protested, fighting back against the common misconception about Amazons.
She did have a point.
“All of us have our types and such, you know? For me, well, mine’s more like an alarm going off. Beep-beep-beep! He’s the one! And then I just know! Like I said yesterday—it’s made me believe in fate!”
“…”
“Which is why!…I just knew I had to have your children!”
It was an admission of love so direct, an elf might frown in disapproval.
Indeed, the Amazons made no effort to hide their procreation-inclined intentions.
With a blush warming her cheeks and a hint of shame coloring her features, Lena shot Bete another smile, almost as though plucking up her courage. “If we keep going much farther, we’ll end up having to stay here overnight. You probably don’t want that, hmm? Do you, Bete Loga? What should we do, then? Maybe…maybe if we could meet again, we could…go all the way down to the lower levels sometime?”
But despite all her efforts, the werewolf’s heart remained as cold as ice.
His amber eyes stared indifferently at the still-smiling girl.
Affection. Pah.
Adventurers didn’t need it. And even more certainly, the strong didn’t need it.
It was nothing more than white noise.
And for Bete right now, a werewolf detested not only by others but by himself as well, it just made him want to gag.
“—Are you really that stupid?”
“Huh?”
And so he pushed her away.
The rotten werewolf, selfish beyond measure, violent to a fault, and capable of nothing but hurting those around him, raised his head.
H
e was going to make this confused girl understand whether she wanted to or not.
To turn her affection into revulsion.
“You sure talk big for someone who doesn’t even know her place.”
“Th…! That’s…I—I know I’m not as tall as Aisha or the others and…and that maybe I’m not so strong yet. And maybe I even got pushed around by that frog lady a lot, but…From now on, all that’s gonna change! One day, I…I’ll even become as strong as Bete Loga!”
Bete smirked. “You’re a chump. And you’ll always be a chump!”
This made the girl’s orange-pearl-colored eyes widen with a start.
“Doesn’t matter how much you keep yappin’ about ‘someday, someday’—fish bait like you’ll never amount to more than just that: fish bait! So quit your whining! Ain’t gonna do you any good!”
“I…But I…I have to try…”
“Yeah, you and everyone else! You’re all alike! Goin’ on and on about your big dreams, then you don’t regret it till you’re halfway down a monster’s throat. You’re disgustingly weak. Nothin’ but stupid, flimsy dreams and a whole bunch of baloney!” Bete continued, scenes from his past playing out before his eyes one after another. He wasn’t even looking at the stupefied girl anymore, but through her and toward the blood-strewn field of his memories beyond.
And from the middle of that scene came the sound of his own laughter.
“You’re nothing. And you always will be. Ignorantly spewing lofty goals that you’ll never come close to reaching. And I hate it. More than anything else in the world, I hate it.”
“I—I…”
“You don’t even have the guts to tell me I’m wrong, do you? Heh…Well, you can’t polish a turd,” Bete finished, still sneering at the stock-still girl in front of him.
“Weak and strong just don’t mix.”
It was a statement forged of pride, of utter arrogance.
And with it came the contemptuous echoes of his laughter in the dark, quiet grotto where neither human nor monster dared approach.
Is It Wrong to Try to Pick Up Girls in a Dungeon? On the Side: Sword Oratoria, Vol. 8 Page 6
