1

Grelden, of the principality of Luctretz. Population: eight thousand.

The town's orderly spaced houses were built of tough, gray bricks, with high, sharply slanted roofs and upwards arching little windows. Paved and tidy, the streets were most wide enough for two carriage lanes, and enough space left over for the pedestrians. Grelden's layout had a militaristic sort of straightforwardness to it, which Yuliana attributed to the town's history as an army encampment.

There were no border patrols, fences, or checkpoints to keep the pair of women crossing over from one kingdom to the next.

The mountains themselves formed a natural borderline, the princess explained, and the limits weren't that strictly drawn or controlled, seeing as Langoria and Luctretz had always been on friendly terms with one another. As a matter of fact, they had been one not too long ago in the past. The split had occurred more out of practical reasons than due to any political or personal feuds. Effectively ruling over such vast lands was unfeasible for a single, distant government, and so a local ruler was appointed to reign over the autonomous Luctretz, with the title of Prince. Even after Luctretz started to consider itself a sovereign state instead of a mere vassal, no reason was ever deemed for restricting the passage of travelers between the nations.

That's so laid back compared to how things are back home, Izumi thought.

From their conversations on the way, she had learned this world really was every bit a medieval fantasy land. No electricity. No phones. Not even telegraphs. People might use birds to send confidential messages, at times magical gadgets, or couriers.

Izumi shuddered to think of the time when having no more access to modern technological appliances would hit her. She didn't even have her phone to amaze the locals with. No, it was better not to think about such things, forget they ever existed. Deliberately reminding herself that she would never have online access again was only asking for a mental breakdown.

The town guards at the western gate eyed the pair a bit suspiciously—mostly Izumi because of the attention-grabbing sword she carried—but let them through after a few basic questions that Yuliana convincingly answered.

Could they tell who she was?

The face of Langoria's knight princess was not unknown to the people of the neighboring land, of course. Yuliana had made several visits to Luctretz in the past, to Grelden too. Although those occasions had usually proceeded in the safety of royal carriages and knight escorts, and she hadn't associated with the common people much.

Even had the guards recognized her, they clearly didn't know she was wanted yet.

As royalty, Yuliana did expect to enjoy a level of diplomatic immunity. It was unlikely anyone would directly raise arms against her in Luctretz, but if a formal request for her extradition was made, the local authorities were likely to comply without question.

However, the word had to first travel from the two knight survivors back to the nearest garrison, from there to the capital of Langoria, and from there again to the prince of Luctretz, before the formal authorization for her arrest could be sent to Grelden.

By the time the orders reached the local guard, Yuliana would be long gone.

Maybe I can rest easy, at least for tonight.

“By the way, Yule,” Izumi suddenly said, as they walked down a street, looking for a place to spend the night, “do you happen to know where the adventurers' guild is?”

“Ah, excuse me? Where is what?” Yuliana absentmindedly returned.

“The adventurers' guild,” the woman repeated. “There's got to be one in here, right? You know, the place where you go register and receive quests and rewards and upgrade your rank, and so on. I've been looking around, but can't see a place that looks like one...”

“I-I'm sorry, but there is no such a guild, to my knowledge...” Yuliana forced a polite smile.

“T-there isn't…?” Izumi stopped, shocked by the news. In Yuliana's opinion, the reaction was heavily exaggerated. “W-what should I do then? Where am I now going to get my adventurer's license? What about all those ranks and plates? Copper, iron, silver, obsidian, mythril—you know, that thing I can flash around, which makes all the bystanders go, 'oh, she must've hit the level cap by now, to have that!' How am I going to build my legend, if I have nothing to show for it? Isn't this bad!?”

“Ahaha...” the princess's smile became further strained.

There she goes again, with her foreigner talk.

“I don't know about ranks or plates,” she said, “but if you are looking for work as a free lance, you could start with the town's notice board. That's where the citizens usually put up any urgent messages regarding whatever they need help with. Not that everyone bothers with that. The vast majority of job openings don't get listed anywhere, you have to simply ask around and—”

“Ooh, let's check it out right away!” Izumi's excitement returned.

“What? W-what about the inn? Weren't you hungry!?”

“I'll bear with it! Let's go!”

Yuliana didn't know where the notice board of Grelden was, but since they were generally positioned near town squares or market places where a lot of people gathered each day, that was her first choice.

Her guess wasn't mistaken either.

In the southeast corner of the central square, near the middle of the town—empty of sales booths at this time of the night—stood a wide wooden board on two legs, with numerous little paper notes nailed on its worn-out surface. Since there was a little roof, the posters were mostly spared from the awful weather. At least those nailed closer to the top.

Izumi looked closer at them.

“Ooh, this is just the thing! Let's see, let's see—Aah, I can't read any of this!”

“Oh, right. I didn't think of that,” Yuliana next to her remarked. “Since we can understand each other's speech, I naturally assumed you could read as well. Isn't that troubling? I suppose you're going to have to learn to read first, if you plan to stay.”

“You say, plan to stay,” the woman lamented, “but there's no way for me to go back home even if I wanted to, is there? I mean, there never is. That's just the way it goes with these stories.”

“I wonder about that,” the princess replied. “If people can be brought this way, why couldn't there be a way reverse the process? Want to give it a try? I can call my Lord again the first thing in the morning.”

“So you can have the sword back and resume your silly gender-bender quest? No thank you, I only asked for future reference. I don't have any plans of going back for the time being.”

“So you're going to have to hit the books then.”

Izumi wasn't listening.

“You don't suppose there's a mysterious elixir, or a magic spell, that would let one learn languages in an instant, like 'ba-baam'!”

“As if something so convenient would exist!” Yuliana retorted. “There'd be no need for schools then, would there?”

“It's not fair! I'm already too old to study! It's boring! It's a pain! Why is it that this Divine spirit or whatnot can kidnap people from other worlds, yet can't even share the essentials? Heeey, Ai-chan? You're in there, right? You're listening, aren't you? Teach me how to read, pleaaase!”

“Stop wailing in my ear!” Yuliana pushed the woman away from her. “And I told you, my Lord is powerless when it's in the middle of the night!”

“As expected of the no-good knock-off god.”

“Really, what is it!? What do you have against my Lord!? I told you to stop that!”

Izumi returned to face the notice board.

“So, Yule, will you tell me what all these say?”

“Forget it,” the princess turned to leave. “There are dozens of them and I'm famished myself. Let's find an inn and call it a day. Come on. We can come back in the morning.”

“As expected of the no-good vessel of the no-good knock-off god...”

“You sure carry a grudge! Has anybody ever said you have a hideous personality?”

After a lot of further arguing in the rainy night, the pair finally found their way to a tavern along the town square, a short distance away from the notice board.

By the looks of it, it was above average in quality, which was bound to be reflected in the pricing. They probably could have found a cheaper place from a more secluded part of the town, but were too tired to keep looking.

Yuliana could have raised more funds from the royal accounts at the nearest bank...in theory. But the idea of leeching off of the wealth of the family she had betrayed violated her honor. She preferred to get by with only the contents of her own purse, if possible.

Having never traveled on her own, Yuliana had no idea how much a night at an inn cost on the average. In this regard, she was no different from the woman from the other world. She had fifty pieces of silver, no more had fit in her purse and she had been in a hurry. It was likely that any inn would let her stay on credit if only she told them who she really was, but that would have been no different from holding a parade in town. The word would have spread everywhere before daybreak.

I'm a fugitive now. An outcast, not a princess. Better start living like one.

“While we're here,” she told Izumi at the doorstep, “I'd like you to keep calling me by the name you have so far.”

“Eh? Yule's name is not Yule?” the woman responded.

“Don't tell me you forgot already...? Aah, I was a fool to expect any different from you. You have no respect for the Divines, why would you show any for royalty?”

“Don't say that. I do respect those I think are worth it.”

“So I have not yet earned your respect, is that it?” Yuliana smiled wryly.

It was true that in the eyes of this mysterious person, her strength was too feeble to be acknowledged. Her conduct so far had felt childish even to herself.

“Um, that's not really what I meant,” Izumi unexpectedly denied. “Royalty or not, Yule’s a friend and you don’t need to act so stiff with friends. I didn't think there was anything disrespectful about that. Rather, isn't a pet name nicer than any cold, long-winded title?”

“A friend…?” Yuliana repeated, surprised.

That word was so foreign to her, the girl had to spend a moment to recall its meaning. She had had servants and subordinates, companions, comrades, superiors, teachers, masters, lords, squires, caretakers, and whatnot, even a fiance—but never anyone to call a friend. This was the first time anyone had used that word in her presence, for her, no less. Realizing that, Yuliana was momentarily overtaken by emotion. Surely because of the fatigue, no?

“I dragged you into this, and yet you would—”

“Yeeeeeah, let's not go that way,” Izumi cut her off, waving her hand dismissively. “Friendship isn't that big of a deal, you know. It doesn't mean I'm going to marry you, so why don't you stop it with the puppy eyes and we go in?”

“Oh. Ahem, right...” Yuliana cleared her throat and tightened her lips.

As I thought, this person is crude to the bone.

2

They—or Yuliana, mostly—successfully rented a room at the tavern.

The Tales, it was called. Though it was her first time doing so, the business went smoother than expected. A room for the two of them had only cost four silver marks, including supper, breakfast, and hot water. The manager behind the front counter, a jovial, large and balding man in his mid-fifties, didn't seem to mind their strange attires or the huge sword carried by a woman who looked like an innkeeper herself. They had wrapped the Amygla in Izumi's apron, but the cloth was nowhere near large enough to fully conceal the blade. Yuliana had worn a cloak over her royal armor when she had set off on her journey, but had ended up discarding it along the way in a fruitless effort to distract her pursuers. She knew wearing something so flashy had been a mistake, if the point was to travel incognito. But regardless of the looks, the orichalcum armor was no doubt a necessity for challenging the Trophaeum, due to its superior-to-steel protection.

Fortunately, taverns saw all kinds of colorful travelers and their even more colorful gear, and their host wasn't that easily disturbed. It wasn't that uncommon for mercenaries and adventurers to wander around with their weapons bare, in case they were too large to be sheathed.

Still, we had better shop for some less conspicuous clothing tomorrow, Yuliana noted to herself.

It wouldn't take a very keen eye to connect her looks and the armor's engravings to the royal house of Langoria, and questions would be asked, why a princess was sneaking around without a retinue. The possibility of her father dispatching another unit to take her back outside the official channels couldn't be disregarded either, and leaving a clear trail of rumors for the pursuers to follow was unwise.

Going through these endless paranoid thoughts, Yuliana tiredly bit her lip.

There were too many things to consider, too many mistakes to watch out for.

And the undeniable truth was that having to deal with Izumi on top of everything else was slowing her down a great deal.

“Why did you only rent one room?” the so-called champion from another world asked, having finished her supper. They ate in the dining area on the tavern's spacious ground floor, and unlike Yuliana, Izumi had regained her good humor as soon as her stomach was filled. “Stingy. Stingy princess.”

“As if I can let you out of my sight for one moment and have you disappear Divines know where with my sword!” the knight princess angrily retorted. “You know virtually nothing about life here and it's only a matter of time before you get yourself into trouble. Until you return my sword, we're sticking together, day and night, you hear me? And I thought I told you not to call me a princess here...!”

Luckily, it was late and there weren't too many other travelers spending time at the tavern on a weekday night.

Those few who sat further away were too occupied with their private business to pay attention to the pair of women. Or, so they acted. Having grown up in the middle of the gossip and treachery of the royal court, Yuliana knew better than well that walls themselves had ears.

“It couldn't be, you're into older women?” Izumi asked with a pretentiously dramatic gasp. “You said you wanted to be a guy, does that mean you swing the other way too? I'm sorry, even if we share the same room, even if we share the bed, no steamy events are going to happen. No way. Absolutely not. Please accept it.”

“Why you…!” Prideful as she was, Yuliana was about to give in to her anger again. Minding the situation, she managed to calm herself with sheer willpower. Even her mood had been lifted somewhat by the meal.

“I know,” she sighed. “I know what you're trying to do. And you're not getting rid of me so easily.”

“But, but,” the woman bemoaned without denying the suspicion, “you're going to try to steal this thing back the first chance you get, right? I don't wanna sleep all night with one eye open! I'm going to get wrinkles, more wrinkles, and ugly bags under my eyes. Don't wanna! Gosh!”

“So you admit you stole it! Still, your worries are completely ungrounded. I'm not going to do anything as underhanded as that.”

“But you already stole it once yourself,” Izumi retorted. “From your dad's treasury to boot. Was that not underhanded, or what?”

“Shhh! Keep your voice down, you idiot! Don't talk about that here!”

Yuliana was certain their talk carried everywhere in the room, but nobody even spared them a glance. A suspicious observation on its own.

“I finally got into another world and then have to party with a stingy trans-princess and a no-good Divine? There's no end to my bad luck, is there…?” Izumi continued to complain, as though the other customers were no different from tables and chairs to her. “Where are those pretty-boy sword heroes, charming, reliable princes, and wise, battle-hardened mercenaries? This party can't even be called a party with just the two of us.”

“That's my line!” Yuliana sighed again. “I was given a literal once-in-a-thousand-years miracle, and all I got was you? Who are you to talk about bad luck? It's so terrible I want to cry.”

“Who are you calling terrible! If you don't like this co-op mode, then give me my own room and you won't have to see me again.”

“So you did plan to sneak away before daybreak...Why don't you cough up the coin to rent a room for yourself then, o' champion? Ah, yes, you can't even read the menu.”

“Can you promise me you will keep your hands to your side of the bed?”

“I shall sleep on the floor if that's what matters!”

“Are you guilt-tripping me now? Just so you know, I'm immune to that. I'm perfectly shameless.”

“Don't say that about yourself! Though you look the way you do on the outside, could it be that you're actually only eight years old? Maybe your people age faster than we do? Or their minds mature slower?”

“Please leave my age out of this. Hits under the belt aren't very princess-y.”

“I wasn't knighted just for show, you know. I had to deal with crude idiots on a daily basis, so you're not going to banter your way past me. How am I your 'friend', anyway? Is this how you treat all your friends? I thought there was more respect and equality to true friendship than what you are giving me.”

“No, I don't sleep with my friends. If anything, we're already at the second base, aren't we? Kyaa~! I'm so gonna tweet about this—oh yeah, I don't have my phone...”

“No, really, were you a sailor or a farmhand in your past life...?”

——“Excuse me.”

At that moment, the pair's odd exchange was interrupted by the voice of a third person.

Yuliana hadn't noticed when, but a girl around her age had suddenly appeared beside her and was addressing the two of them. Judging by the simple brown, many times patched dress, and the filthy gray rag tied around the waist as an apron, the girl was a worker at the tavern. The owner's daughter, perhaps?

Although her presence received a quick and natural explanation this way, there was something about the maid that made Yuliana instinctively put up her guard.

Coal-black, curly hair reached the servant's shoulders, loosely tied back to keep from getting in the way. A pair of large, dark-brown eyes respectfully evaded contact but looked a tad too intelligent for a simple small town maid. Her skin was distinctly tanned, speaking of weeks if not years spent outdoors rather than mopping floors. Perhaps she was a recent, temporary hire, after all? A traveler or a refugee, who had run out of coin while on the road?

“Was the supper to your liking?” the maid asked.

“Ah, yes. It was delicious, thank you,” Yuliana politely responded, in line with her deep-ingrained manners.

“It was so-so,” Izumi commented without reservation. “There was too much salt, the potatoes were overcooked, the meat tasteless, and there were too many onions, onions upset my stomach and—”

“She enjoyed it. See, the plate's empty,” the princess finished for her.

“I'm glad then,” the maid said with a smile that failed to reach her eyes. “If you're ready, I will take you to your rooms now.”

Following the servant, they went upstairs, to the second floor, where their room was along a long hallway pointing westward.

It was a standard room. Stripped and plain by Yuliana's royal standards, extravagant by Izumi's, who had lived in a simple single-room apartment. There was no need to argue over the bed, seeing as it was meant for two and wide enough for even a more bashful pairing, with a brown-red blanket for cover. There was also a little window in the back, with a view down to a narrow alley between the tavern and the neighboring building.

Although there was no fireplace, the room was warm. Feeling the floor beneath her feet, Izumi concluded the tavern had to have had some sort of a central heating system. The town had sewering as well, as shown by the manholes on the streets, and basic but functional water closets. Though they had no electricity or running water, the people of this land were still moderately developed. Somewhere between the seventeenth and eighteenth century Europeans, perhaps.

“A bath has been reserved for you downstairs and is ready for use, whenever you wish for it,” the maid said. “Just let me know when and I will take you—”

“—Yes, yes! I'll go!” Izumi immediately chirped. “Right away! Please lead the way, um...What's your name again, sweetie?”

“I—I'm Riswelze,” the girl answered, surprised by the woman's excessive familiarity. She clearly hadn't expected the question and appeared to regret how impulsively she had answered.

Of course, Yuliana thought wryly. Nobody else here would care about the name of a simple maid.

“Ri...Ri...Ri...” Izumi repeated with a frown, as if her brain had trouble comprehending what her ears had just heard, until a wide smile suddenly brightened up her face. “Rise, it is!”

“Excuse me?” the maid named Riswelze raised her brows, her confusion deepening.

“Pay her no mind, please,” Yuliana shrugged and advised. “My companion is a bit of an oddball, but means no harm by it.”

“Right,” the girl slowly nodded. “And milady…?”

“Ah, I shall take my turn later, if that is all right. I still need to take off and clean my armor.”

“If that's all, I can have someone assist you with it—”

“Thank you, but I require no aid,” the princess sharply interrupted.

Royalty or not, it was each knight's responsibility to maintain their own equipment. After all, how could one be expected to protect a country, if such simple and basic everyday tasks were beyond her? Realizing how odd it was to still cling to her old instructor's words after becoming a traitor to her land, Yuliana turned away with a bitter smile.

“You may go.”

“...Very well. Then this way, if you please, madam.”

The servant exited the room, Izumi in her wake, and for the first time in several hours, Yuliana was left in peace and quiet. Exhaling in relief, she began to unstrap her gauntlets.

“I can't see it. I can't see it at all...” she mumbled, looking at the rain-patterned window. She had been through so much trouble over the past days, made so many bold resolutions, yet her goal stood unbearably far away. “How did it get like this...?”

Not even I could have predicted such an outcome, the voice within her responded.

“How and in what manner of a world is that person a 'champion', anyway? She's violent and rude and arrogant, has no manners, no honor, no respect whatsoever. Takes nothing seriously. She's completely ignorant about everything, about other people's feelings, yet won't even bother to try and understand. I've never met anyone as irresponsible and reckless in my life!”

And yet, you already rather like her, don't you? Aiwesh's voice sounded amused.

Yuliana grimaced.

“And what ever gave you such an absurd impression, my Lord? As nothing could be further from the truth.”

Your warmth did.

“Eh...?”

Being within you, I can tell well enough. For a long, long time, you have distanced yourself from the others. You have filled your thoughts with the greater good of your people, half because that is how you have been raised, and half in order to escape the how cold you feel inside. But in only a few hours, your heart has turned this warm. Perhaps this was a necessary event, after all. True strength does not come from wanting to strive for others' sake because it is right and proper. It comes from knowing that you want to, because of who they are. Unless you take that lesson to heart, you will never reach the Tower, much less conquer it.

Yuliana removed her chestplate, set it upright against the wall, removed her boots and then laid on her back on the bed. She spared no thought to its lulling softness. Her mind was elsewhere.

“True strength…? Is that the difference between her and I?”

What made Izumi so powerful?

Why did she show no fear, even before death?

What did she fight for? For Yuliana, it was a mystery.

The princess could see clearly enough that her own heart was filled with anxiety. Worry over her country's future. Worry over the well-being of her parents. Worry over the success of her mission. Worry over the fate of the world. And sheer dread over the possibility that she would end up a disappointment, a disgrace, a failure, and die a miserable death in some foreign land, unable to achieve anything.

So much depended on her, yet she was so hopelessly weak.

The woman had it worse. Yet, she only played around like a child.

It should have been the other way round.

Izumi should have been the one depending on Yuliana for protection, scared out of her wits. Yet, from the moment of their first meeting, she had appeared to the princess as someone utterly untouchable, indomitable, and beyond reach.

Raising her palm towards the ceiling, as if in an effort to touch the vision on her mind, Yuliana clenched her fist and closed her eyes.

“Who are you and where did you come from, Itaka Izumi...?”

3

In the basement of the tavern, stairs down from behind the counter, were a handful of more private rooms, along a narrow underground corridor. Those rooms had baths where the guests could wash away the dust and sweat from their travels. There was no hot water available in the upper floors and delivering it by hand would've made things unnecessarily laborious and time-consuming, so the architect solved the problem in this fashion.

At this time of the night, the baths rarely saw use, but one of them had now been readied again for the sudden guests' use. Although they were baths in name, what awaited Izumi was quite unlike the bath houses she was accustomed to in her land of origin.

Before her eyes stood a simple room with dark stone floor, walls coated with red tiles and thick, bare metal pipes. Light steam hung in the air. There was no furniture beside a few basic, wooden stools and benches. In the middle of the room, bolted on the floor, stood a large bath tub, skillfully forged from brass, filled with steaming hot water. Some scented soap had also been added, giving off a sweet fragrance that spread in the room. And...petals of roses?

What kind of a tavern had they signed into?

According to Yuliana, the fee for the night had been absurdly cheap, but that didn't match the level of service...Perhaps Izumi's innate grasp of the value of things, based on the standards of her old world, didn't serve too well here.

She decided not to think too deeply on it.

Izumi wanted nothing more but to get rid of her wet, heavy clothes and jump right into the tub, but there was a slight problem…

—“Is something the matter, madam?”

The maid girl, Riswelze, remained standing behind the woman, a towel in hand, seemingly with no intention of leaving.

You are the problem!

“No, it's just...Rise dear, are you going to stay there...?” Izumi asked.

“Yes, madam, rest assured,” the girl answered, completely missing the point. “I have a robe for you to change into, while I’ll hang your clothes to dry. It was raining, wasn't it? What a terrible night to be outside. You had better undress quickly before you catch a cold. It could be deadly at your age.”

That stings. It really does.

“I'm fine by myself, though,” Izumi muttered. “So there's really no need for you to wait around...”

“You mean, I should...leave?” The girl looked a little taken aback. As if she had been told she was something filthy, an eyesore. Was being attended even during a bath really the usual custom here?

“I-it's not that I hate you being there personally, or anything,” Izumi hurried to say, “but, well, how should I put this? Could you face away for a minute, at least? Since it's...just a bit embarrassing...”

Riswelze's expression softened a little and she quickly responded with a smile,

“Please pay it no mind. I'm only doing my job, so be as if I'm not even here.”

That's impossible!

“This tavern's sure got some grandiose service, doesn't it!” Izumi laughed, trying to hide her nervousness.

“This much would be perfectly normal, I think,” the maid responded. “After you are done with the bath, I can give you a massage as well. It's included in the fee.”

“A m-m-m-m-massage? There really is no need to go that far, I think...!”

Again, it seemed Izumi had picked her words poorly. Riswelze's expression immediately clouded again, and, as if offended, she hurried to argue,

“Why not? Is it because I look young and inexperienced? I think I can give pretty good massages, madam. No one has complained so far. It feels good, doesn't it? Please give me a chance and I will show you. You will definitely not regret it.”

“T-that's...”

The situation wasn't developing in a good way at all.

Naturally, the maid had no way of knowing what really went on in the strange guest's head.

The truth was that Itaka Izumi, a dateless old maid from the modern, sterile, distant society, was—to put it nicely—“unattuned” to the proximity of other people.

To be more accurate, she had grown exceedingly sensitive to it.

It was mysterious how the human mind worked, Izumi thought.

When she had practiced the art of self-defense in her youth, her body had collided with other practitioners countless times, and she had thought nothing of it. Those weren't social occasions. You wouldn't feel weird hugging a punching bag. Similarly to using the shower room at a public pool, or wearing bikini to the beach in the summer, no one cared about being exposed to strangers when the context was not intimate enough.

But here, forced to strip under the gaze of a cute younger girl in this steamy, rose-scented room, where no one else could see or hear—if this wasn't “intimate”, then what was? It felt like some kind of a perverted play, a sadomasochistic punishment game.

Moreover, during the years Izumi had spent as a shut-in in her later years, her mindset had undergone a subtle, gradual, but nevertheless profound change. Arguments like, “we're both women” had lost meaning along the way. No matter who it was, being touched, being looked at, felt absolutely unbearable, even fully clothed.

Yet, it didn't seem like Izumi could get the maid to leave without insulting her…Only imagining those pretty, brown features distorting in anger and humiliation brought cold sweat to Izumi's brow.

It was a complete stalemate.

In the end, she chose what she perceived as the lesser evil.

“...I'll be taking off my clothes then...”

Swallowing her pride, Izumi turned around, set down the greatsword and began to unbutton her shirt.

Inhale. Exhale. Clear your mind. Pure, flowing water. Kuwabara, kuwabara…

Peeling off her sticky, damp shirt, Izumi dropped it on the stool beside the bathtub.

It was no good. She couldn't help but be overly self-conscious. It was like her every movement had become somehow erotically charged and was sending all kinds of unintended, subliminal signals around.

What's the matter, really? Rise is a veteran at customer service. It's not like she'll see any “signals” and assault me! In her eyes, I might as well be a potato! La, la, la...Wonder what Yule's doing right now…?

Trying in vain to distract herself, Izumi moved on to her skirt.

Closed only by a little hook, it was easy to take off. In theory. In practice, the wet cloth clung to her round hips, as if it had shrank, and demanded considerable effort to pull off, little by little. How obnoxiously thick and lewd her body now seemed! Izumi hadn't worried about her appearance for a long time, but now she suddenly became painfully conscious of every little bit of it that was off.

The skirt brushed her legs as it finally fell down, sending shivers up her thighs. Her knees reflexively quivered. Did the maid notice? Just an illusion, didn't happen.

She was down to her underwear. Next, the bra...

Gosh, it's not like I'm a lesbian myself, it doesn't matter even if she's looking. Why am I being so fidgety? Massages are perfectly normal, nothing erotic about them. Being touched and caressed by another girl, a maid all over does nothing for me, haha…

It was a lie.

The word “maid” alone was enough to fill her mind with forbidden thoughts. After so long, wasn't every cell of her being practically begging to be touched, pleased, by anyone? Gender had stopped being a limiting characteristic long ago. Izumi just wanted to stop being so cold and alone.

Then, dropping the bra, letting her large chest loose, Izumi's mind suddenly cooled down. As if hit by a magic spell, she reached a new level of self-awareness, looking at her veiny hands and the bony fingers.

You've got some guts, still calling yourself a “girl” at your age, Itaka Izumi. As if anyone would want to touch a wrinkled, saggy old bag like you. A cute kid like Rise the least of all. Maybe when I was Yule's age. But that time's not coming back anymore, is it? It's only going to be steeper downhill from here...Gross. I'm so gross. My wish finally came true, but I'm so far past my heyday no one's going to confuse me for a hero anymore. I won't even qualify as the constantly kidnapped sidekick at this point. Rather, I'm the stepmother everybody's dying to get rid of!

The onslaught of depression broke her tension.

Feeling her age heavier than ever before, Izumi unceremoniously took off her underwear and dropped the pair of black panties on the stool, on top of her other clothes. All her underwear were always black. Not because she wanted to look sexy, but because you couldn't tell so easily when they were dirty and so didn't need to be washed as often. The will to be appealing simply played no role in her everyday decisions, hadn't for many years.

And it was crushingly sad.

Now fully naked, Izumi happened to glance briefly behind, at the maid.

As she did, Riswelze quickly averted her eyes.

What? Was it her imagination, or was the servant's face a bit flushed? It was the steam playing tricks on her vision, right? Right?

That shy look was too much stimulation for Izumi.

At once, her Buddha-like tranquility and resignation from a minute back were gone again.

In a panic, she quickly escaped by jumping into the bath tub.

“Wah...!”

The water was hotter than she had expected. Way too hot.

But that was only because her body had gotten so cold. As she slowly grew used to the water, her tense limbs relaxed. Even had she boiled alive, there was no way she would've had the courage to get out and stand before Riswelze's eyes again.

“How's the water?” the maid's voice asked. “If it's too hot, I can adjust it for you.”

“No, it's fine...”

“Then...would you like me to wash your hair for you?”

“Um, if that's alright...” the woman muttered.

It was embarrassing, but Izumi wanted to hide her weird behavior by acting against her nature. Not to mention washing her hair was a hassle to do by herself. It had grown too long. She hadn't been to a salon since she turned twenty, yet every time she had tried to cut it herself, her courage had faltered.

Izumi leaned back in the tub, which was shaped to allow one to comfortably do so while resting arms on the rounded edges. She didn't relax to that degree, however, seeing that her chest floated in the water. In shame, she folded her arms to cover herself. Fortunately, the water was foamy enough to hide the rest of her disgraceful form.

“Please lean back a bit more.”

Without a word, the servant wet Izumi's hair in a separate bowl that could be attached on the tub's rim, mixed something oily in her hands and got to work.

For a while, neither said anything.

This really is happening, huh, Izumi thought.

She really was in another world now, in a parallel reality completely different from where she had come, filled with magic, unknown races, and mysterious creatures. Her dream had come true so suddenly she still had trouble believing it was real. Sure, lots of boys from her class had harbored similar fantasies in the past, yet she was the one who had had her way. Who would’ve thought?

Was it a genuine other reality?

Or an elaborate computer simulation?

Or a particularly strange dream?

Izumi recalled all those books she had read where the protagonist was thrown into a strange world, and the wild twists the authors would add in to spice up their vision. What if she had only dreamed her life on Earth and was only born a few hours ago, created from nothing by the Divine's spell? All the memories of her past life were false, conjured...What a silly theory.

Did it even matter?

During her school days, Izumi had written a long list of things she had wanted to do and try in a fantasy world such as this.

Defeat the Demon Lord, join forces with various amazing heroes, challenge the hardest dungeons sporting the strongest monsters, maybe create a guild of her own, become a living legend...All those innocent, energetic wishes only seemed bothersome and ridiculous to her adult self now.

Did this world even have a Demon Lord? Defeating one would've made for a noteworthy achievement, perhaps, but it also seemed like a huge hassle for no benefit. Had the evil beings here even done anything to warrant being destroyed?

No. At this point, Izumi was content with simply having made it here.

Anything was better than the place she had come from.

It had been her first day as an intern at a little florist's shop. The job had been forced on her. Her boss and employees treated her like she was somehow impaired, an idiot, because she hadn't had a stable job before. That was the kind of people they usually had, as part of whatever social rehabilitation campaign sponsored by the government. They didn't take her because they wanted her, but because they got compensated for it, and could build reputation as a company that did their part in the society.

Unlike her. She was dead weight and people left no confusion about that.

All Izumi could do was obediently endure it with a smile.

Yes, endure.

Endure.

Endure.

Endure. Endure. Endure.

Endure. Endure. Endure. Endure. Endure. Endure.

Endure. Endure. Endure. Endure. Endure. Endure. Endure. Endure. Endure. Endure. Endure. Endure. Endure. Endure. Endure. Endure. Endure. Endure. Endure. Endure. Endure. Endure. Endure. Endure. Endure. Endure. Endure. Endure. Endure. Endure. Endure. Endure. Endure. Endure. Endure. Endure. Endure. Endure. Endure. Endure. Endure. Endure. Endure. Endure. Endure. Endure. Endure. Endure. Endure. Endure. Endure. Endure. Endure. Endure. Endure. Endure. Endure. Endure. Endure. Endure.

Such had been her whole life on Earth, every last day of it. Enduring the pain of trying to appear normal, while clinging onto an impossible escape route.

And now she was here.

Divine salvation had happened.

The moment she had gripped the Amygla in her hands, Itaka Izumi had felt so completely liberated that life and death themselves had lost all meaning for her.

Even as the strange knights had charged at her with the intent to kill, Izumi had been barely able to contain her joy. She had reached the climax of her existence. She could have died any moment now, with not a single regret left. Everything that came after this point was only bonus.

But this didn't mean Izumi was completely free of fear.

Yes, even at this moment, a fear kept nagging at her ecstatic heart.

Not the fear of death or starvation, pain or humiliation.

But the fear that she should wake up in her dark, depressing apartment again tomorrow morning, at the ring of the alarm clock, only to find that this happiness had indeed been but a mirage, meaningless and shallow, blown out like a candle without leaving one memory behind.

Until it happened, she desperately wanted to savor every last second of her experience to the fullest.

“This is the best...” Izumi sighed.

“Pardon me?” the maid asked. “Did you say something, madam?”

“No, nothing at all.”

“Is that so?”

Rise's fingers felt good on her scalp. Strong, yet gentle. Perhaps she should rethink that massage?

“You have such gorgeous hair, madam,” the girl said. “I see you've taken good care of it.”

“A woman's hair is her life, after all,” Izumi absentmindedly replied. “Take care of yours.”

“I try to.”

From their brief conversation, Izumi's thoughts returned to Yuliana.

What should she do with the girl? She did consider giving back the sword, for a moment. A moment only. Letting the princess go die by herself on such a reckless quest seemed only like a waste. Neither did Izumi have any interest in helping her either.

I wonder if I have any main character status to protect me here? Wouldn’t be a good idea to count on it, huh. If I go play with godly powers, I’ll probably only either die or worse—get sent back home. And I haven't seen nearly enough of this place yet to rush forward with the story quest. Do I even get to save?

Though she reasoned the matter to herself in rather surreal terms, she also recognized that neither she nor the princess could go on like this, dragging each other down. It seemed there was no choice. If the princess could agree to buy her a decent new weapon for questing tomorrow, then they could peacefully part ways.

There's no way to make her give up on going to that place and come with me instead, is there...?

—“Your companion, she's really pretty,” Riswelze suddenly spoke, as if she had seen through Izumi's thoughts. “Is she your daughter?”

“Eh? Yule, you mean?”

I look that old, huh...

No matter how and how many times her age was brought up, it never failed to make for a critical hit. For a second, Izumi considered playing along with the guess, but they looked and dressed nothing alike. Claiming they were related was going to be too suspicious.

“No, um, she's my....bodyguard!” she quickly lied. “Yes. I happen to be a noble, you see? Not a princess, no, but real buddy-buddy with the court, through a cousin or two and I have a nice mansion and stuff behind the mountains. Don't tell anybody, but I'm actually on a top secret mission to deliver a super important message to the prince and Yule serves as my noble escort. Yes.”

Izumi's imagination got the better of her and the lie somehow blew out of proportion as it was being told.

“Wow, that sounds real amazing,” the maid said. There was something strange about her tone. It was almost painfully cynical. “But if she's your guard, then how come you're the only one of you two to carry a weapon?”

Messed up, huh...

“T-that's because...it's a magic sword!” Izumi answered. “It can only unleash its true potential in Yule's hands, but she's still too young and inexperienced to fully control its might. Which is why she can only wield it with my special permit. You know, when it's a life-or-death situation with absolutely no other way out. Otherwise, who knows, she might end up blowing up the whole town by accident. Yep.”

“I see. It's a mighty weapon you have then. But isn't it a little careless of you to take a bath without your bodyguard, or leave her without any means to defend herself?”

It was an excellent question, but perhaps a bit weird coming from a simple servant.

“Oh, Yule can look after herself,” Izumi kept up with her story. “She's actually a tenth degree black belt in Brasilian jiu-jitsu—her body itself is a weapon! If she carried a sword too, any human opponent would be completely obliterated…! And that would bring too much attention to our, uh, secret mission. Yes.”

“Right. Good thinking,” Riswelze said. “But you want my opinion?”

The girl suddenly leaned over and brought her lips close to Izumi's ear.

“I believe you're not giving me the whole story here, auntie.”

“...”

Without pulling back, the girl continued to whisper in a lowered, venomously sweet tone that was like another person’s entirely,

“See, I heard this really delicious rumor just a while ago. That the famous heiress to Langoria’s throne has run away from her castle, outwitting a whole platoon of royal guards, and is on her way to Luctretz as we speak. It's been a few days since her sudden 'departure', who knows, maybe she's already here? Yes, here, in this very town, maybe renting a room at this very tavern, and we wouldn't know it. Seeing as Grelden happens to sit so close to the border, along the only route out of Langoria by north. That would be pretty bad, if true. Because there are lots of shady people out there who don't like royalty too much, you know? It so happens somebody has already put a huuuge bounty on the princess's head. 'Dead or alive', it says, even. If there also happened to be somebody in dire need of quick coin in the neighborhood, somebody who always keeps her eyes and ears open, you could be dead certain she would take a shot at this princess the first chance she gets. What do you think about that...your highness?”

“Highness…?”

“Yes. You are not just any average noble, are you? Princess Yuliana Da Via Brannan. It was pretty clever to have your guard wear the royal armor while dressing like a lowly cur yourself, but you don't really think people are that stupid, do you? No, you probably do. Having lived your whole life behind the walls of your stupidly huge castle, how could you have any idea what life is like on the streets? Well, guess what, auntie? Even if you didn't go blabber about it like a moron to whoever asks, it's obvious to anyone by a glance which one of you has the squishy, soft body of a sheltered, pampered royal wretch, and which has worked herself to the bone in the service of the people. You aren't used to being stared at by filthy street rats, are you? Gets you all hot and bothered, doesn't it? Oh, and for your information, as you clearly have no idea how this currency thing works—paying four full silver without question for a room that's hardly worth sixty coppers is going to make you look pretty damn desperate to anybody.”

Having said that, the servant, Riswelze, straightened her back, pulled a weapon resembling an ice pick from under her apron and raised it to strike.

“Nothing personal, your highness. But they don’t pay maids like they used to.”

“On a second thought, this place really has terrible service,” Izumi said.

Riswelze stabbed down her dagger, aiming at the woman's exposed neck.

Functionally, a bath such as this was an ideal place for assassinating a person.

Down here, no one would interrupt them. The thick walls would muffle all sound. The blood could be thrown away with the bathwater, the body disposed of the same way. And not even the victim’s clothes would be damaged.

It wasn't Riswelze's first kill, nor was it likely to be the last.

A business transaction, nothing more.

A part of her did feel slight, passing reluctance in the act. She was still too young to have rid herself of the weight of conscience entirely. Even though she assured herself that ridding the land of corrupt nobles and politicians was a righteous act, in principle, that didn't mean she took special pleasure in the act itself.

But the bounty more than made up for where the will was lacking.

Those soft of character had no place in this world. When the opportunity presented itself, it had to be seized. Or someone else would.

Still, regardless of means and motivations—there were times when jobs simply went bad.

Tonight's turned out to be one.

Suddenly, there was water everywhere.

An explosion of water. As if the walls themselves had abruptly liquefied.

Before she realized, Riswelze found herself lying on her back in the bathtub, following a fit of dizziness.

As she was trying to comprehend what kind of bizarre magic had hit her, she realized she had become completely immobilized. Powerful legs wrapped around her thighs, and snake-like arms wrung the spike from her grip. She struggled to free herself and get up, but the strength binding her was absurd. The more she resisted, the deeper she was pulled into the hot water, sapped of stamina bit by bit. As if she had been caught by a humanoid octopus and now faced a slow, painful death by drowning—powerless to do anything about it—a primitive terror took away the girl's breath.

“Mistake number one,” a dreadfully gentle voice whispered in her ear, in a bewildering swap of roles. “When stabbing someone beneath you, bend your legs, not your back, or else you might lose your balance.”

“Gh...a...”

“Mistake number two. If you really need to give a cool one-liner when murdering somebody, please do it only after you've actually stabbed them. Not before, and certainly not at the same time, or it will mess up your pacing.”

Frightening pain intensified on the assassin's arms, as her shoulders were being twisted slowly backward, at the same time as her chest was pushed forward, pressure gathering on her neck and back. Riswelze looked in vain for a way to escape—and saw her own distressed image reflected on the polished bath tub's inner surface. Shocked, she realized the tub had acted as mirror, reflecting her every move to her victim.

“By the way,” Izumi cheerfully continued, relishing the type of close contact she was most familiar with, “I'm third dan in Brasilian jiu-jitsu. Now, Rise dear, could please tell me in detail what this bounty business is about?”

4

Yuliana had fallen briefly asleep and was startled awake by the sound of someone at the door. Realizing her grave mishap, she quickly sat up on the bed, a hint of embarrassed red taking over her upper cheeks.

As expected, in stepped only her companion from the other world, dressed in a gray bathrobe the maid had apparently given her, drying her lengthy hair with a fluffy towel. On the woman's refreshed face was a wide, cheerful smile.

The transformation was uncanny.

This was the first time Yuliana saw Izumi in good lighting, clean and dried, and she looked like a different person entirely. Her hair was fluffier, she looked larger and taller. Sparkling. The robe was left loose on the front, apparently because it was too tight around the chest to be fully closed.

Catching herself staring at that opening, Yuliana turned her face away.

“Sure took your time,” the princess said. Though she made her tone reprimanding, she was only relieved the woman hadn't sneaked away with the Amygla while she slept. Or ran into any trouble. The possibility that it could've happened, she convinced herself, was the true source to her restless pulse now.

“Wow, what do you know, massages really are something~!” Izumi beamed as she stepped in and kicked the door shut behind her, one hand taken by the towel and the other by the sword and her belongings. “Though, as I always thought, I do prefer to be on the giving rather than the receiving end.”

“Massages?” the knight princess frowned. “What folly are you talking about, at a time like this...?”

“Don't call it folly, it's good for you! Hurry up and get going,” Izumi urged her, like a mother her daughter, “The bath's not open all night. The road's been cleared, if I may say so.”

“Hm? Did something happen?”

“No, not at all! Hurry, hurry. I'm going to sleep now. Don't you peep. And don't wake me up before ten, okay?”

“Ten?”

What kind of an expression of time is that?

Yuliana would have preferred to go back to sleep as she was, but her civilized upbringing compelled her to stand and go wash up. But as she stepped towards the door, her glance drifted to the sword Izumi had set leaning on the wall next to the bed.

“Would you consider letting me take the Amygla?” she asked. “It may only be downstairs, but I don't feel safe going unarmed. Leaving myself defenseless at such a vulnerable moment would be inviting problems.”

“You're not any more vulnerable naked than you are clothed, you know?” the woman nonchalantly answered her. “It's all in your head.”

“You still think I'm going to steal off with it?”

“There's this saying in my world. 'Opportunity makes a thief',” Izumi said, raising her finger to imitate a teacher. “I'm only protecting you from the temptation.”

“What a coincidence, there is a saying like that in our land too,” Yuliana responded. “But I don't want to get told that by a thief. In my opinion, it's not thievery, if I'm only taking back what is rightfully mine.”

“Which you obtained by stealing.”

“How many times must I tell you, I did not 'steal' it! Technically. I walked right into the vault where it was stored under the castle, openly announced my intentions to Lord Aiwesh, pulled the sword out of the stone with her approval, and then walked out. I was neither hiding nor lying about it. No mischief. That vault and everything in it is my family's property. So I'd like to think calling it a 'retrieval' would be more appropriate.”

“A sword in stone, huh,” Izumi listlessly repeated. “Never heard that one before...”

“Are you listening to me?”

“Nope. Not at all. Are you still here? The water's going to go cold~”

The woman's carefree attitude was getting on Yuliana's nerves big time.

Standing in the middle of the room, doing her best to maintain her composure, the princess quietly weighed her options. Shortly, she came up with what she felt was a good compromise.

“Then, how about this,” she faced Izumi and said. “I swear an oath. On my honor as a knight, I swear I recognize the sword as yours for the time being and will never attempt to take it from you against your will. If, in turn, you are willing to lend it to me at times when I need it, for my own safety. That good enough for you? In our land, oaths hold exceptional power. I will not be able to break it without consequences.”

“It's a no,” Izumi rejected the humble offer without even considering it. “If it's only for peace of mind, why don't you go get a cooking knife from the kitchen? That would be a lot more useful in a bath. And I told you there's no danger (anymore).”

“...You really don't trust people, do you?” Yuliana sighed.

“Of course not,” the woman immediately responded. “Not one bit.”

“Whatever happened to make you that way?” The princess asked in a snide tone, trying to provoke the woman. “Was it perhaps some bitter betrayal you suffered in your youth?”

“I wonder, what could it have been?” Izumi chirped, unaffected.

Useless, is it?

Frustrated, Yuliana grit her teeth and moved her gaze between the woman drying her hair, seated on the bed, and the sword. It was clearly outside Izumi's reach. She wasn't even paying attention. With just one long step, Yuliana could grab it and walk out. Izumi probably wouldn't chase after her, in only a bathrobe.

It was an underhanded thing to do, but when words failed it was time for actions. Perhaps Izumi would begin to trust her a bit more after she would return and show that there was nothing to worry about.

No, did Izumi really even care? The stranger's every action so far only spoke of complete indifference towards whatever happened around her. She was probably resisting so much only out of stubborn, selfish childishness.

“I don't know about your past,” Yuliana said, stepping casually forward. “And I can see there is probably no way for me to convince you with my good will. And for that reason—”

She made her move and darted forward. The princess was certain she would make it. But she had underestimated her opponent. There was no need for Izumi to reach the sword, so long as she could reach the girl. Before Yuliana’s fingers could touch the Amygla's hilt, Izumi's iron grip had already caught her wrist like a flash of lightning and pulled her away.

“Ah!” A sharp pain flickered along Yuliana's arm, making her wince. That arm still hurt from the fall before. Distracted by it, the girl tripped on her weary feet and stumbled blindly forward.

Although, there was only one direction she could fall, the way her arm was pulled.

When Yuliana dared to open her eyes again, she realized that the consequences of her prank, as harmless as it had been intended, were far graver than she had imagined.

The princess was half lying over the woman, whom she had unwittingly pushed down onto the bed. She had tried to avoid falling on Izumi by taking support with her free right hand, but that hand had unluckily missed the bed in the heat of the moment, instead landing on Izumi's voluminous chest, through the open robe front.

In terms of feminine assets, Yuliana herself had hardly any need for shame, despite the arduous lifestyle of a knight. The food at the castle was always rich in fat and delicious in taste and she'd had a hearty appetite, further augmented by the long days of outdoor training, riding, or overseeing the many activities of her kingdom. As a matter of fact, the princess had often received more or less open ridicule over her bustline, from her fellow students, knights, servants, and relatives. From the court tailor in particular, for having to fix up her dresses ever so often, to keep up with the maturing of her figure.

But at this moment, she tasted overwhelming defeat.

As expected, grown women were in a league of their own.

The knight princess's hand, sculpted rough by the military way of life, was utterly incapable of grasping the full shape of what it held. The limits of its form escaped her like the curvature of the worldly horizon, as seen from the mast of a voyaging frigate, hiding unknown worlds beyond.

Stunned, absorbed by the gravity of that chest, she completely forgot about herself and her purpose—until the voice of the person beneath her brought her back to her senses.

“Your highness,” Izumi icily said. “Guess who’s going to sleep on the floor tonight.”