Maid Meets Girl - 4
Noir hid behind the door of the underground vault where Dandelion was kept, watching the intruders.
Three masked figures were advancing on Dandelion: a heavily muscled man, a woman with a mature figure, and a child roughly Noir’s own size. Aside from the white masks covering their faces, they had nothing in common. It was a bizarre combination.
Inside an enormous glass case, Dandelion pulsed and hummed, pouring out waves of golden light. Alone in that vast empty chamber, the greatsword shone with a majesty that called myths to mind.
And the muscled man was walking straight toward that sacred heirloom—the very symbol of House Leonhart.
"Ghk…!"
Noir almost bolted toward him, then forced her half-risen knee back down. A surprise attack was out of the question. If these people were comrades of that terrorist, they would never fall for an amateur ambush from someone as green as her. Even if, by some miracle, she took one of them down, she would still be left two-to-one. Either way, her defeat was certain.
"Hah… hah…"
What on earth was I thinking, coming here alone?
At first she had simply decided it was something she had to do, and she had rushed in. But with the enemy right in front of her, fear locked her mind in place. In the deep shadow she leaned against the door and clutched her chest.
Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.
Stop. Please stop.
Her thoughts refused to move, yet her heart, thrashing with tension and terror, would not quiet. No, no. Calm down. I have to calm down. She tried to soothe it, but her heart ignored every command and hammered even harder.
Afraid they might hear it, she carefully peeked out to check on them—
"Ah…!"
—and locked eyes with the smallest of the three, walking at the rear. The white mask hid the face, but that figure was unmistakably looking straight toward her.
I’ve been spotted.
What do I do? Run? Should I run right now? Can I even get away? And if I do, what happens to Dandelion?
"Hah, hah, hah…"
Fear fed on itself and swelled. The same paralysis that had frozen her thoughts began to choke her breathing; the focus of her vision blurred. She tried to force her legs to move, but they only trembled and gave out, nearly toppling her.
I’m going to die. I might die.
Noir, who had never once stood on the edge of death, finally understood how desperate the situation truly was.
I can’t go on like this.
Yet that extreme fear of dying became the very foundation of her resolve. It was already far too late to flee. Then there was only one thing left to do.
Noir carefully planted the tip of her greatsword against the ground and pushed herself to her feet.
"Well then, M! It’s your turn!"
V flung both arms wide and shouted, looking for all the world like a third-rate villain out of an anime.
That line was supposed to be mine. I’m the one who was supposed to say it, knock out the two from Yoro, and then fall to Noir’s hand…! Why—why are you stealing my role? I don’t even want to be Nine. Just do it yourself!
Whether V knew my tangled feelings or not, the woman approached me with deliberately exaggerated gestures.
Click. Click. Click.
Her footsteps echoed through the cavern, and then—
"Khh!"
—a colossal storm of mana centered on V shook the entire chamber.
"Have you lost your mind?"
"Lost my mind? Me? You’re the one who’s mad. Dragging a little rat all the way here wasn’t enough—you even hid her for me."
Whoosh—!
The instant V stomped hard, countless stone spikes erupted from the floor. I threw myself backward just in time, but her magic was nowhere near finished.
BOOM—!
Having already read my movement, V conjured a giant’s arm of solid rock. The moment my feet touched the ground, she swung it. The enormous stone hand closed in before I could even set my stance; its sheer size alone radiated crushing pressure.
Too late to dodge.
"Bokja!"
I called Bokja in a panic and dove into its body. The shadow that had swallowed me skittered across the floor at high speed and hauled me out of V’s range.
"I knew it. That little rat was stuck to you."
"Ah…"
I had escaped V’s ambush, but Noir’s silhouette—hidden until now in the shadows—was fully exposed. Perhaps because the darkness that had concealed her had suddenly vanished, she looked back and forth between V and me with dazed eyes. This was no moment for a gentle explanation.
Swish—
Smiling as she looked at Noir, V formed a massive stone spear and hurled it at her.
Fwoosh—!
Noir scrambled into a ready stance and unleashed a great wall of white flame. The fire was hot enough to melt the stone floor itself, yet it was nowhere near enough to stop V’s strike. The rock spear punched through the wall of white fire and drove straight at Noir.
An instant before it could pierce her, I seized her by the scruff of the neck and yanked her clear. The spear punched clean through the corridor wall where she had been standing, and a shockwave rattled the entire underground arena.
I tried to use the dust and smoke from the shattered wall as cover, but V’s spike magic refused to allow it. I forged daggers from shadow and batted away as many of the stone thorns as I could, yet there was no blocking a storm of hundreds. Fragments scored my body and buried themselves in my flesh, etching a lattice of small wounds across my skin.
"I know that little rat’s face. The young miss of House Leonhart, wasn’t she? You let her follow us, hid her with your shadows, and now you’re even protecting her. Are you planning to betray Yoro?"
I had no answer. From the start I had intended to leave Yoro, and the moment I chose to conceal Noir, anything I said would have been nothing more than an excuse.
Thud!
Taking my silence as confirmation, V actually looked pleased and swung the giant’s arm once more. I grabbed Noir again and put distance between us and the attack.
"Why, after realizing I had betrayed you, did you kill B without telling him? The two of you could have ganged up on me."
"What a foolish question. I have no reason to explain myself to an enemy!"
She was right. This world I had been reborn into was the world of a game, but that did not mean my life had become a game. The year I had spent as a nameless nobody had been reality, not play, and in reality no kindly opponent ever helpfully narrated every one of their own actions.
"You needn’t tell me. I can guess the reason."
V had almost certainly killed B first because B was a warrior with an exceptional physique. Even though he had died to a single surprise strike, if he had stayed alert and met V head-on, the situation would look very different right now. He would probably be smashing every rock barrage she threw and pressing her hard. I didn’t know what B’s ability had been, but anyone who had risen high enough to become a Number was bound to be a formidable fighter. Even if One thought highly of me, V must have judged that an assassin like me would be easier to face head-on than a warrior like B.
And, irritatingly enough, that judgment was correct.
Assassins usually hold the advantage against mages—but only when they can close the distance. From the start V had been wary of me, and as an earth-attribute mage who weaponized the terrain itself, she forced a fight that heavily favored her. On top of that, the golden waves radiating from Dandelion created the absolute worst battlefield for an assassin who needed darkness to hide in.
Ugh, this is driving me insane. I never knew the villains in the game could think this well. Or am I just the idiot for landing in this situation?
"…"
No… even so, that can’t be it. The idea that I—who must become the most perfect maid in the world—might be stupid is a joke in the worst possible taste.
"Hup!"
"Tch!"
While I was lost in thought, V seized the opening and flung another stone spear. I managed to twist its trajectory with shadow, but the spear still grazed my face and shattered the mask I was wearing.
Noir could not make sense of the situation. Suddenly the intruders had turned on one another, and one of them was protecting her. How was she supposed to take that? Should she ask why? Or simply offer thanks?
She stared at the back of the girl who stood between her and danger. Looking at the wounds the girl had taken while shielding her only made Noir angrier at her own helplessness.
What is this person thinking?
From the exchange a moment ago, it was clear the girl had betrayed her own organization. Did that make her an ally? Noir didn’t fully understand—but one fact, at least, was certain: right now this person had saved her. The least she could do was not get in the way.
Noir tightened both hands around her sword and tried to set her stance properly. But a body ruled by fear refused to obey. Her grip trembled violently; even her breathing would not settle.
Thud!
The same rock spear that had been fired at her earlier came screaming toward them again. Before the terrified Noir could even react, a shadow burst up beneath the spear and wrenched its path aside. The stone shaft whistled past the two of them—yet it had not been completely stopped. The girl’s mask cracked and fell away.
"Ah…"
Through the broken mask, silver hair spilled free and drew a wave through the air. Flawless, unblemished skin. Two eyes burning red amid the smoke. Even in the middle of all this, Noir could not help thinking the girl was beautiful.
"Wait—are you the one from yesterday?"
How many people could possibly look like that? Watching the silver hair scatter so beautifully, Noir was certain this was the same girl she had seen the day before.
"For now, focus on the fight."
The girl did not answer directly, but neither did she deny it. That was as good as confirmation.
Slap!
Having confirmed the masked figure’s identity, Noir struck her own cheek hard and pulled herself together. She had already received help more than once; she could not afford to become dead weight as well. If she did, she would be no better than those cancerous characters who only dragged the protagonist down in the adventure novels she read. Like most readers, Noir had always felt a deep, visceral frustration whenever such a character appeared. She refused to become the very thing she had always cursed.
"Can you fight?"
"Yes."
This was Noir’s first life-or-death battle, and it terrified her. She was afraid of the hands of the woman who had killed her own comrade. She was afraid of the giant’s arm soaring behind that woman. She was afraid of the stone spears that kept flying at her. Yet when she looked at the silver-haired girl—someone who seemed roughly her own age, yet showed not a single trace of fear while protecting her—courage she hadn’t known she possessed began to bloom in her chest.
It was no mere illusion. People turned into cowards when they stood alone, but found bravery when someone they could rely on stood beside them.
"Hah…"
Noir found it almost laughable that she only discovered courage when someone was next to her. Feeling this inexplicable sense of safety from a girl whose name she didn’t even know was equally absurd. What kind of sight was this? Noble or not, this was simply pathetic.
And yet, because of it, she felt as though a ray of light had finally appeared, cutting a path across the wide, aimless plain where she had been wandering.
What is a noble? What does it mean to be a noble worthy of the name?
What a foolish question that had been. She hadn’t understood that if she was going to ask such a thing, she first had to become someone capable of asking the question and finding the answer herself. How could a young horse that only leaned on others ever find its own road? There was nothing more foolish than seeking an answer without any intention or effort to find the path.
Not wandering without thought, simply running down a road someone else had laid out. Finding the road yourself. Carving it yourself. And it is still yourself who gives meaning to the road you have made.
Yes. Not a noble worthy of the name. Becoming the person I want to become—and then painting the meaning of “noble” on top of that.
So who do I want to become?
Whatever the answer, it is certainly not this ridiculous version of myself standing here now.
"Then… will you lend me your strength?"
Her stalled thoughts began to turn again. Her racing heart quieted. Her blurred vision steadily cleared.
I want to become someone who carves her own path like the protagonists in novels—not the weak, laughable girl who only wanders lost. Someone as strong and unshaken as the girl in front of me. I want to know who this girl is. What her name is. What her true identity is.
And to do that, the obstacle standing in the way had to be removed first.
"Yes—as much as you need!"
From this moment on she would no longer be the cancerous character who only clung to the protagonist’s ankles. She would be the one who overcame adversity and opened the road—the protagonist of the story.