Turning the Desert Princess into a Defeat-Addicted Maso♥ (1)
Heading straight south from the Holy See, we were drawing closer to the heart of the cursed lands with each passing day. In proportion to the shrinking distance to the Demon King's Castle, the monsters we encountered grew exponentially stronger.
"Annoying pest!"
Elahe's fist strike flew toward the monster but failed to connect. Or rather, it connected, but didn't produce any real effect. The moment the impact hit, the monster dissolved into smoke like mist, only to reform its physical body within seconds and lunge at her ferociously.
"Die!"
I swung my sword at the creature pursuing her to help, but it felt like slicing through pudding—no damage registered at all. Even stranger, the blade's speed slowed as it cut through it, as if my energy was being siphoned away. The monster pierced by my sword glowed red for a moment, then attacked us even faster than before.
"Ho, that thing... isn't it a monster from the history books?"
The blue-haired tower lord, who usually cast support spells with her perpetually sleepy eyes, perked up as if she'd spotted something intriguing for the first time in ages.
"That form where it only takes physical shape when it wants, absorbing most physical attacks to grow stronger... Definitely. It's the Grave of Swordsmen. Nice catch."
"What are you explaining?! Hurry up and... do something about this...!"
Elahe's sturdy body seemed to lack neither defense nor offense, holding firm even against the tentacles' assaults. Still, unable to deal damage, she was fully occupied fending off the incoming barrage.
I was protected by the flames Bella had wrapped around me, but Elahe was fighting barehanded against a monster with a terrible matchup.
"Consider this one favor owed, Your Highness."
Emphasizing "Highness" just a touch, the tower lord mounted her broom and floated up. A slender finger slipped from her blue robes, firing off a spell.
"Pop!"
With a playful onomatopoeia, a sticky jade-green liquid shot toward the monster. It arced inescapably from above, splattering and adhering to its body.
"Grrruuuk?"
Unable to disperse into mist, the monster let out a bewildered cry.
"Hit the spot where the liquid stuck."
Elahe followed the tower lord's advice.
"Hah!"
Ignoring defense, she focused and unleashed a single punch that landed squarely. Until now, the monster had been like a clump of sugar powder—able to shatter and disperse impact at will. The jade liquid was like pouring boiling water on that pile. Drenched, it failed to scatter as before. Solidified, it took the princess's strike full-on, its body beginning to sparkle. Unable to vent the impact anywhere, it soon bubbled into sticky green blood and melted away.
The monster's death brought me glad tidings.
Level increased!
As a level-up reward, a trait awakens.
Searching for a trait suited to your playstyle...
Emotion Sharing LV.1 acquired!
Trait [Emotion Sharing] is enhanced by the influence of Word Spirit!
Mind-to-Mind Transmission (以心傳心) acquired!
Through Word Spirit, you can force a target to [empathize] with another person's emotions.
In stark contrast to my joy at the new trait, she was grinding her teeth in unresolved fury.
"...I'll remember this favor."
Baring her pearly whites, she shot sharp anger my way. Seemingly humiliated just by feeling threatened by such a lowly monster, she vented her rage on the corpse without hiding her ire.
Even as she merely abused the body, her stunning beauty and flowing desert traditional garb made it look like a mesmerizing dance. That intense disdain for defeat... I'd found her corruption vector. I wanted this warrior woman, who couldn't tolerate losing at all, to become a masochistic pervert addicted to the pleasure of defeat.
"About that spar I mentioned before... up for it today?"
As if she'd been waiting for those words, she confidently invited me to the training grounds at the inn.
"We'll spar freely until one admits defeat."
She stretched her body this way and that, preparing for the match ahead.
That confident, leisurely expression... I wanted to twist it into humiliated defeat.
"Hmm, just fighting would be boring... How about we make a wager?"
"A wager? Ha! Aren't you underestimating me too much? You know what I'd want!"
Not even considering defeat, she was already excited at the prospect of sparring a "worthy opponent."
"No, not underestimating you. On the contrary, beating Your Highness is so tough that I need fitting stakes to get motivated."
"Hmmm, true... that makes sense..."
She closed her eyes thoughtfully. Her long lashes accentuated her elegant, aristocratic haughtiness.
"Fine. Winner gets one wish—anything."
She grinned mischievously like a prankster. I'd guided her thoughts somewhat, but it worked on the first try.
So straightforward.
"Perfect. I'll have to give it my all, then."
"Hehe, you should. To beat me, you'll need every trick in the book."
Amid the desert night, violent mana rippled around her like a thunderstorm as she addressed me.
"Come at me, Leon Sodus. I'll let you glimpse the power of the Contreso Holy Kingdom."
She had every right to be confident. She was a powerhouse. Just bad matchup. To gift her the worst defeat, I poured in my absolute best effort.
Her loss had to be utterly humiliating, an unforgettable shame. One she couldn't endure without demanding a rematch.
A fistfighter losing to a swordsman in close quarters—that would be the ultimate disgrace for her.
Tough, but... I pulled it off.
It felt like hunting an elephant. Her body was robust; up close, dodging those powerful fists was impossible.
Good thing I could predict her attack paths.
Even reading her thoughts and emotions to foresee attacks, she was a nightmare opponent. Her body moved on perfect instinct, faster than thought. Still, predicting directions was a huge edge. I dodged all her dangerously potent strikes—not the feints, but the real killers.
One solid hit, and I'd have lost for sure. But I evaded by a hair each time.
Using Word Spirit and Magic Tattoo, I'd pre-enchanted my gauntlets with spells. A curse that weakened physical prowess on contact. Small but piercing resistances reliably.
Each touch temporarily sapped that ironclad body. At first, she pressed aggressively, fresh and dry, not a drop of sweat. But as the fight dragged, she slowed. She shifted from flicking away my swordplay with fingers to more efficient blocks infused with fist technique, eventually leaking pained grunts.
The stacking micro-curses gnawed at her relentlessly. Like an elephant trampling traps, each sword graze piled on curses until breathing hurt.
"Not yet... not yet...!"
Now her body was just a bit tougher than an average woman's. Trembling with defeat's terror, her mind stubbornly denied it.
Finally closing in, I lightly deflected her incoming fist.
Frail fit perfectly now—her weakened punch felt like petulant flailing. No matter the finesse, raw power was laughable.
I grabbed her shoulder, flipped her, and locked her neck with one arm in a vise.
"Kek, hngh... st-stop...!"
Height difference hoisted her like a hanging. Her drained body thrashed, craving air. Heel raised to ease the choke, barely averting blackout. Toes strained to lift her weakened frame, just touching the arena floor.
"Khuh, do you... admit defeat?"
"Hek, grr... I lost... lost, so... ha... release me..."
At her surrender, I released. She collapsed messily onto the arena floor, pale. All curses lifted simultaneously.
"Leon... Sodus...! What did you do to my body...? Eh?"
Sudden vitality returning, she looked baffled.
"Whew, that was a razor-close win, Elahe."
Now came the crucial part. This had to feel fair and thrilling enough for her to accept—humiliating yet legitimate. Only then could I crush her repeatedly.
"Your sacred body is incredible. My little tricks barely held up."
"...Tricks?"
"Yeah, minor stacking debuffs. Wasn't sure they'd work... lucky break."
"...Urk."
Calling it cowardly here would make her someone who couldn't block even tricks. Plus, she said use every trick.
"Why choke my neck...?"
"Ah, debuffs were about to wear off, locking my loss... couldn't resist. Touching your royal form... my apologies."
"Nngh..."
Griping over in-fight tactics wasn't warrior-like—amplifying her own beliefs. Solidifying that she'd do the same in my shoes. Downplaying the rudeness of touching royalty as trivial.
Her aimless humiliation, frustration, and rage converged on one thought.
"Revel in this win, Leon Sodus. Next and the one after, you'll see my true power."
"Next match?"
"Obviously. My spars are best-of-three by default."
She said it brazenly, but fiddled her fingers, a bit embarrassed.