The dazzling moonlight emanating from my sword burned against the smoke dancing against the night.
Immediately, and with pace that belied his heavy armour, Grim leapt backwards, his mace crossed in a guard against his chest. The residents of the merchant's quarter gasped in alarm, then grabbed their cups, their valuables, their belongings and then finally fled.
“Juliette?!” cried Lady Renise, her mouth open in horror. “Didn't you say it's unseemly to fight in public?!”
“This man profaned the kingdom before my eyes! It is because of people like him that I wake up to find scraps of food and drink in my hibiscus shrubs, as though the garden I fought so hard to cultivate is a mere hole to discard unwanted leftovers ... I cannot forgive this transgression!”
“He broke several tiles with his mace! Isn't that also profaning the kingdom?”
“That can't be avoided! The construction standards in the royal capital are severely lacking! … No, I can let his destruction of unsafe property pass. But not his wanton littering. There must be justice.”
“Juliette, I can pick up the cup … !”
I shook my head, stopping Lady Renise as she bent down to pick up someone else's litter. A point, a stand needed to be made.
There were many travesties occurring in this kingdom. And yet if I were to name the worst, then it would assuredly be a princess turning her eyes away as rubbish was strewn across the fair fields, streets and orchards to give rise to colonies of rodents and perennial weeds.
I refused to let that happen!
And so—
I steeled myself for the challenge ahead.
Redeeming a public litterer through strong-arm diplomacy!
“Nice sword,” said Grim, eyeing me studiously as I held Starlight Grace aloft. “Gift from someone special?”
“Several, in fact. This is an ancestral sword handed down through generations of my family.”
“Yeah, figured you for the noble type. You all have that same way of talking. Also means I know how to deal with you lot.”
I smiled in answer.
Now that it had come to this point, I had no choice but to execute my ultimate ability. My foolproof method of cowering even the mountains themselves.
Lying through my teeth … again!
“Ohohoho.” I raised my hand to my cheek and scoffed. “Do you believe that your life is worth more than Tirea's littering laws? You would do well to bend on the matter. Only a fool would meet my sword over a spilled cup.”
A pair of dark eyes narrowed before me. But not only me. He constantly scanned his surroundings, as though in search of the attack that would strike at his back.
“I've been called a fool many times before,” he said. “Turns out I'm a poor fool who's lucky.”
“You've not a morsel of luck. For all your actions have led you to stand before me. Do you truly believe that I would draw my sword if I could not sweep you aside as easily as a hand bats away a fly?”
“Sounds interesting. Got a cute little sword trick your father taught you, huh? Or maybe a washed up old-timer drinking himself hoarse at the guild? What's your rank, adventurer?”
I winced.
“O … Ohohoho!! You … You do not know how to deal with me! No more than you know how to deal with the ocean wave that cleaves a ship asunder! Your armour is as feeble to me as the mightiest ant is to the sole of my shoes!”
“An impressive resume. And yet I've heard of no adventurer in the city limits who boasts such strength of shoes. Your rank is … ?”
“R-Rank is merely a letter defined by men and women with more grey hairs than adventuring years. The bureaucracy of the adventurer's guild cannot label me.”
“Hahah. I'm inclined to agree. But still, it's a useful, if inaccurate benchmark. Come now, reveal your standing. I wish to know my foe.”
“Oh … ohoho … ohoho!! Try at your own peril, but you will live no longer than your predecessors. More foes have been smashed before my bladework than rain upon the plains.”
The man looked me up and down, his posture relaxing noticeably.
“You're F-rank,” he declared simply.
“You're F-rank?!” cried Lady Renise, her mouth agape.
“She's F-rank,” said Coppelia, nodding enthusiastically, and not helping in any way, shape of form. She lounged on the bench, drinking a smoothie as she watched the spectacle.
I flicked my hair over my shoulders and smiled away the painfully judgemental stares being hurled my way. They did not hurt me. Not at all. That my rank was so abysmal wasn't an indication of my ability.
Why, it was just ...
“A mere technicality,” I said. “As a recent induction into the Adventurer's Guild, I haven't been afforded the time to rescue the number of cats necessary to climb the hierarchy.”
“I see. Forgive me for saying so, but you don't strike me as a swordswoman. Rather, it feels like I'm facing someone who's never once picked up a sword, let alone used it to … what was it? Smash more foes than rain upon the plains?”
He shifted the position of his mace. He no longer held it in a guard, but openly over his shoulders, as though ready to charge with little concern for retaliation.
“Nice rhyme. I'm going to borrow it. After I deal with you. Can't have competing usage, after all.”
With his mace resting against his shoulder, Grim began walking towards me.
There was not a hint of the speed he'd demonstrated while gaining distance between us. Rather, it was as if he was purposefully taunting me.
I could only be impressed.
My, what a wonderfully villainous pose! He'd seen through my masterful ruse, and now sought to drive home the futileness of my boasts!
Indeed, this man was no mere knave. No more than he was some ponderous and slow brute. Why, it took noteworthy cunning and intelligence to glean through the web of half-truths and subtle lies that I weaved to form my persona as an extremely experienced swordswoman!
I had underestimated my opponent.
… In which case, I would reward him with my ultimate ability.
No, not lying through my teeth. The other ultimate ability. The one which couldn't just flatten mountains, but the ground beneath the mountains, too.
I turned to the side.
“Coppelia! I summon you!”
Indeed, Grim was a fine opponent!
And as his reward, I would give him not only a foe worth fighting, but one who also had more free time than I!
“I'd like to order another coconut smoothie please. I've decided that one's my favourite. Could you make it less pulpy, though?”
Significantly more free time.
I looked aghast at my future handmaiden as she paid less heed towards her princess than she did the stall owner blending another fruit beverage for her.
Once this was done, I would need to have a stern conversation with her about my expectations of bodily sacrifice for my benefit.
“Looks like you're all alone, Miss F-rank. Want the first strike? I'm feeling generous.”
I turned back to my opponent, horrified at the moniker he'd struck me with. The sword in my hand bristled with the strength of my indignation.
“How … How dare you! My name is Juliette! Not Miss F-rank!”
“Good.” The man's eyes glinted with satisfaction. “That's the attitude I want to see. Well, Juliette, you face Grim. C-rank vanguard of the Smugglers Guild. Last time I checked, anyway. Know that I've since touched the precipice of greatness. You will not be included amongst the list of names I've crushed for profit and power, but I'll endeavour to think of you as I clean your remains from my mace.”
Grim stepped forwards, his shadow somehow lunging towards me before his figure did. I tensed, even a novice like myself sensing the impending strike.
Very well … if it's come to this, then there was only one thing I could do.
It was time to begin refining my [Spring Breeze]!
Indeed, why stop with blowing away emaciated peasants? If I was able, then I should also endeavour to use it to disperse all my foes!
Naturally, I would have preferred a more controlled environment to begin development of the Mark II Prototype [Spring Breeze] … but no matter! If a willing test subject presented themself to me, then it was my duty as a genius at the forefront of horticultural techniques to oblige!
Raising Starlight Grace over my head, I took in a deep breath—
Then watched as the black force known as Grim instantly collapsed, his mace falling to a resounding clang against the cobblestone.
His fist punched the ground, quivering to support his weight as he immediately attempted to raise himself.
Instead, he trembled, his body collapsing entirely once again.
I peered at my sword, then at the man struggling to reconcile his new status as an armoured slug on the ground.
O … hohoho?
“You … what did you ...”
Grim looked up, his words stilted and slow.
There was no longer the glint of amusement in his eyes, nor the self-assurance of a man who was going to easily earn his next bag of crowns.
Instead, his eyes told the shock of a man struck from behind the moment he'd ceased caring to look.
“What is this … I can't … I can't move … the agony … it's like a fire sweeping through my stomach ...”
He looked at the emptied cup laying on the ground.
“This … This pain … what did you do?!”
I blinked, then sent my gaze towards the clockwork doll casually lounging on her side across the bench. She was sipping a coconut smoothie. Her third of the night.
She beamed, then pointed to Grim's cup.
“I asked the stall owner to use a few of my berries for that one.”
“Berries?” I asked, once again not knowing if it was her words or my hearing that was the problem. “What berries?”
“The really, really sour ones from the bushes.”
Recognition struck me at once.
I could scarcely believe it. She'd actually collected those dangerous red berries.
“Coppelia … did you poison this man with a fruit smoothie?”
“Poison is such a strong word.” She sipped at her coconut drink. “But yes, I did.”
“Coppelia! There are better underhanded ways to kill someone!”
She waved my indignation aside. Clearly, she wasn't aware that nobility refrained from using poison for the simple reason that it was too easy. One cup of poisoned wine meant one cup of poisoned wine back, and then suddenly, absolutely everyone was dead and all the good wine was spoiled.
“It's fine, it's fine,” she claimed without a shred of evidence. “It's not, you know, poison poison. It'll just give him agonising stomach pains and indigestion. He'll get over it.”
“Uhhhhh … it hurts … it hurts so much … oh no, I think I'm seeing a bright light ...”
Stepping beside me, Lady Renise stared at the figure twitching on the ground.
Despite betrayal at the man's hands, she still wore a hint of regret beyond the obvious loathing on her face.
“Grim ...”
The man looked up, the colour in his eyes fading as he spied out Lady Renise.
“I … let my guard down ...”
“Yes, you did.”
“Heh … all those … years … in the underworld … and I fall to such a … cheap ploy ...”
He coughed.
“Well … done ...”
“Grim, I—”
“Leave … go … go find … your parents … do what … I should have … now leave ...”
Lady Renise's expression wavered. But only for a moment. Her shoulders stiffened as she sucked in a deep breath. The fire of vengeance still burned in her eyes.
“Grim. This is only the first stage of your atonement. After I have recovered the estate, I will expect you to return to me. Your judgement has not yet come to pass.”
The man on the floor desperately waved his hand.
“Yes, yes … I get it … but really … leave … I'm begging you … I think I'm about to—”
And then he threw up.
In his helmet.
Tubes of vomit consisting of a poisoned smoothie and whatever this man had for lunch exploded out through the air holes in his helmet, splattering onto the cobblestone beneath him.
He threw up without end, his gurgled cries of suffering rapidly echoing with diminishing frequency, as though unable to expel the puke faster than the tiny holes in his helmet would allow.
Lady Renise and I held our hands to our mouths, repulsed by the sight.
Coppelia finally made her appearance, peeking between us to closely eye the result of her handiwork. She then pointed further into the merchant's quarter, all the while wearing an ecstatic expression.
“You guys go on ahead! I'm going to pick more berries~”
The dazzling moonlight emanating from my sword burned against the smoke dancing against the night.
Immediately, and with pace that belied his heavy armour, Grim leapt backwards, his mace crossed in a guard against his chest. The residents of the merchant's quarter gasped in alarm, then grabbed their cups, their valuables, their belongings and then finally fled.
“Juliette?!” cried Lady Renise, her mouth open in horror. “Didn't you say it's unseemly to fight in public?!”
“This man profaned the kingdom before my eyes! It is because of people like him that I wake up to find scraps of food and drink in my hibiscus shrubs, as though the garden I fought so hard to cultivate is a mere hole to discard unwanted leftovers ... I cannot forgive this transgression!”
“He broke several tiles with his mace! Isn't that also profaning the kingdom?”
“That can't be avoided! The construction standards in the royal capital are severely lacking! … No, I can let his destruction of unsafe property pass. But not his wanton littering. There must be justice.”
“Juliette, I can pick up the cup … !”
I shook my head, stopping Lady Renise as she bent down to pick up someone else's litter. A point, a stand needed to be made.
There were many travesties occurring in this kingdom. And yet if I were to name the worst, then it would assuredly be a princess turning her eyes away as rubbish was strewn across the fair fields, streets and orchards to give rise to colonies of rodents and perennial weeds.
I refused to let that happen!
And so—
I steeled myself for the challenge ahead.
Redeeming a public litterer through strong-arm diplomacy!
“Nice sword,” said Grim, eyeing me studiously as I held Starlight Grace aloft. “Gift from someone special?”
“Several, in fact. This is an ancestral sword handed down through generations of my family.”
“Yeah, figured you for the noble type. You all have that same way of talking. Also means I know how to deal with you lot.”
I smiled in answer.
Now that it had come to this point, I had no choice but to execute my ultimate ability. My foolproof method of cowering even the mountains themselves.
Lying through my teeth … again!
“Ohohoho.” I raised my hand to my cheek and scoffed. “Do you believe that your life is worth more than Tirea's littering laws? You would do well to bend on the matter. Only a fool would meet my sword over a spilled cup.”
A pair of dark eyes narrowed before me. But not only me. He constantly scanned his surroundings, as though in search of the attack that would strike at his back.
“I've been called a fool many times before,” he said. “Turns out I'm a poor fool who's lucky.”
“You've not a morsel of luck. For all your actions have led you to stand before me. Do you truly believe that I would draw my sword if I could not sweep you aside as easily as a hand bats away a fly?”
“Sounds interesting. Got a cute little sword trick your father taught you, huh? Or maybe a washed up old-timer drinking himself hoarse at the guild? What's your rank, adventurer?”
I winced.
“O … Ohohoho!! You … You do not know how to deal with me! No more than you know how to deal with the ocean wave that cleaves a ship asunder! Your armour is as feeble to me as the mightiest ant is to the sole of my shoes!”
“An impressive resume. And yet I've heard of no adventurer in the city limits who boasts such strength of shoes. Your rank is … ?”
“R-Rank is merely a letter defined by men and women with more grey hairs than adventuring years. The bureaucracy of the adventurer's guild cannot label me.”
“Hahah. I'm inclined to agree. But still, it's a useful, if inaccurate benchmark. Come now, reveal your standing. I wish to know my foe.”
“Oh … ohoho … ohoho!! Try at your own peril, but you will live no longer than your predecessors. More foes have been smashed before my bladework than rain upon the plains.”
The man looked me up and down, his posture relaxing noticeably.
“You're F-rank,” he declared simply.
“You're F-rank?!” cried Lady Renise, her mouth agape.
“She's F-rank,” said Coppelia, nodding enthusiastically, and not helping in any way, shape of form. She lounged on the bench, drinking a smoothie as she watched the spectacle.
I flicked my hair over my shoulders and smiled away the painfully judgemental stares being hurled my way. They did not hurt me. Not at all. That my rank was so abysmal wasn't an indication of my ability.
Why, it was just ...
“A mere technicality,” I said. “As a recent induction into the Adventurer's Guild, I haven't been afforded the time to rescue the number of cats necessary to climb the hierarchy.”
“I see. Forgive me for saying so, but you don't strike me as a swordswoman. Rather, it feels like I'm facing someone who's never once picked up a sword, let alone used it to … what was it? Smash more foes than rain upon the plains?”
He shifted the position of his mace. He no longer held it in a guard, but openly over his shoulders, as though ready to charge with little concern for retaliation.
“Nice rhyme. I'm going to borrow it. After I deal with you. Can't have competing usage, after all.”
With his mace resting against his shoulder, Grim began walking towards me.
There was not a hint of the speed he'd demonstrated while gaining distance between us. Rather, it was as if he was purposefully taunting me.
I could only be impressed.
My, what a wonderfully villainous pose! He'd seen through my masterful ruse, and now sought to drive home the futileness of my boasts!
Indeed, this man was no mere knave. No more than he was some ponderous and slow brute. Why, it took noteworthy cunning and intelligence to glean through the web of half-truths and subtle lies that I weaved to form my persona as an extremely experienced swordswoman!
I had underestimated my opponent.
… In which case, I would reward him with my ultimate ability.
No, not lying through my teeth. The other ultimate ability. The one which couldn't just flatten mountains, but the ground beneath the mountains, too.
I turned to the side.
“Coppelia! I summon you!”
Indeed, Grim was a fine opponent!
And as his reward, I would give him not only a foe worth fighting, but one who also had more free time than I!
“I'd like to order another coconut smoothie please. I've decided that one's my favourite. Could you make it less pulpy, though?”
Significantly more free time.
I looked aghast at my future handmaiden as she paid less heed towards her princess than she did the stall owner blending another fruit beverage for her.
Once this was done, I would need to have a stern conversation with her about my expectations of bodily sacrifice for my benefit.
“Looks like you're all alone, Miss F-rank. Want the first strike? I'm feeling generous.”
I turned back to my opponent, horrified at the moniker he'd struck me with. The sword in my hand bristled with the strength of my indignation.
“How … How dare you! My name is Juliette! Not Miss F-rank!”
“Good.” The man's eyes glinted with satisfaction. “That's the attitude I want to see. Well, Juliette, you face Grim. C-rank vanguard of the Smugglers Guild. Last time I checked, anyway. Know that I've since touched the precipice of greatness. You will not be included amongst the list of names I've crushed for profit and power, but I'll endeavour to think of you as I clean your remains from my mace.”
Grim stepped forwards, his shadow somehow lunging towards me before his figure did. I tensed, even a novice like myself sensing the impending strike.
Very well … if it's come to this, then there was only one thing I could do.
It was time to begin refining my [Spring Breeze]!
Indeed, why stop with blowing away emaciated peasants? If I was able, then I should also endeavour to use it to disperse all my foes!
Naturally, I would have preferred a more controlled environment to begin development of the Mark II Prototype [Spring Breeze] … but no matter! If a willing test subject presented themself to me, then it was my duty as a genius at the forefront of horticultural techniques to oblige!
Raising Starlight Grace over my head, I took in a deep breath—
Then watched as the black force known as Grim instantly collapsed, his mace falling to a resounding clang against the cobblestone.
His fist punched the ground, quivering to support his weight as he immediately attempted to raise himself.
Instead, he trembled, his body collapsing entirely once again.
I peered at my sword, then at the man struggling to reconcile his new status as an armoured slug on the ground.
O … hohoho?
“You … what did you ...”
Grim looked up, his words stilted and slow.
There was no longer the glint of amusement in his eyes, nor the self-assurance of a man who was going to easily earn his next bag of crowns.
Instead, his eyes told the shock of a man struck from behind the moment he'd ceased caring to look.
“What is this … I can't … I can't move … the agony … it's like a fire sweeping through my stomach ...”
He looked at the emptied cup laying on the ground.
“This … This pain … what did you do?!”
I blinked, then sent my gaze towards the clockwork doll casually lounging on her side across the bench. She was sipping a coconut smoothie. Her third of the night.
She beamed, then pointed to Grim's cup.
“I asked the stall owner to use a few of my berries for that one.”
“Berries?” I asked, once again not knowing if it was her words or my hearing that was the problem. “What berries?”
“The really, really sour ones from the bushes.”
Recognition struck me at once.
I could scarcely believe it. She'd actually collected those dangerous red berries.
“Coppelia … did you poison this man with a fruit smoothie?”
“Poison is such a strong word.” She sipped at her coconut drink. “But yes, I did.”
“Coppelia! There are better underhanded ways to kill someone!”
She waved my indignation aside. Clearly, she wasn't aware that nobility refrained from using poison for the simple reason that it was too easy. One cup of poisoned wine meant one cup of poisoned wine back, and then suddenly, absolutely everyone was dead and all the good wine was spoiled.
“It's fine, it's fine,” she claimed without a shred of evidence. “It's not, you know, poison poison. It'll just give him agonising stomach pains and indigestion. He'll get over it.”
“Uhhhhh … it hurts … it hurts so much … oh no, I think I'm seeing a bright light ...”
Stepping beside me, Lady Renise stared at the figure twitching on the ground.
Despite betrayal at the man's hands, she still wore a hint of regret beyond the obvious loathing on her face.
“Grim ...”
The man looked up, the colour in his eyes fading as he spied out Lady Renise.
“I … let my guard down ...”
“Yes, you did.”
“Heh … all those … years … in the underworld … and I fall to such a … cheap ploy ...”
He coughed.
“Well … done ...”
“Grim, I—”
“Leave … go … go find … your parents … do what … I should have … now leave ...”
Lady Renise's expression wavered. But only for a moment. Her shoulders stiffened as she sucked in a deep breath. The fire of vengeance still burned in her eyes.
“Grim. This is only the first stage of your atonement. After I have recovered the estate, I will expect you to return to me. Your judgement has not yet come to pass.”
The man on the floor desperately waved his hand.
“Yes, yes … I get it … but really … leave … I'm begging you … I think I'm about to—”
And then he threw up.
In his helmet.
Tubes of vomit consisting of a poisoned smoothie and whatever this man had for lunch exploded out through the air holes in his helmet, splattering onto the cobblestone beneath him.
He threw up without end, his gurgled cries of suffering rapidly echoing with diminishing frequency, as though unable to expel the puke faster than the tiny holes in his helmet would allow.
Lady Renise and I held our hands to our mouths, repulsed by the sight.
Coppelia finally made her appearance, peeking between us to closely eye the result of her handiwork. She then pointed further into the merchant's quarter, all the while wearing an ecstatic expression.
“You guys go on ahead! I'm going to pick more berries~”
