The Bet's Reward
The reward for the bet.
What they had agreed on back then was clearly Erinn's own virginity — something she had once meant to give to Allen, only for his indecision to leave the offer unclaimed.
And yet, even knowing the man in front of her was not Allen…
"Do you even understand what you're saying right now?"
"I understand."
Erinn spoke as if it were nothing.
"I'm saying I'll give you my virginity."
The Erinn saying this was not in her right mind. She sounded like someone who had simply given up on everything.
The man standing before her was no longer Allen.
Soul-swapping magic could only be used once on any given person, and there was no way to reverse it.
Or perhaps Allen had already died that day.
Yes.
Erinn's childhood friend Allen had become someone she could never meet again — because of her own choice.
Looking back on it now, she might have been far too hasty. What had she been thinking, trusting a stranger's words and moving the way she had?
But at the time, she had judged it the only way to help Allen and the only way to protect her precious companions.
And this was the result. Allen was no longer Allen, and she had dragged a complete stranger into a dangerous battlefield.
Erinn thought that even learning the truth now was already far too late. She should have doubted from the start.
When he had volunteered to take command of the Lizard Dungeon — something Allen would never have done…
I thought he'd changed.
She hadn't been suspicious. She had been glad. Allen had finally changed.
She had assumed he was Allen from a future timeline, trying to live differently based on everything he had already experienced.
But that wasn't it.
Allen hadn't changed. He had simply become someone who was not Allen. That was the only reason he seemed different.
It only meant she could never meet the real Allen again.
And so the person she had meant to give her heart to had simply vanished.
"It's not a bad deal for you either, is it?"
In that case, she might as well give her body to the man who still wore Allen's flesh. That wouldn't be so terrible either.
That was the resigned thought behind her words.
"I may have treated you pretty roughly, but my face and body are… well, any man would want them, right?"
She spoke to this man — this unidentified stranger who called himself Albrecht — half out of guilt, half out of sheer surrender.
"If you want, I'll apologize for everything I did. Ah… though an apology would need a proper compensation of its own, wouldn't it?"
"…"
"Then how about this? If you tell me to obey, I'll obey. You can do whatever you want with me."
Erinn looked at Allen — no, at Albrecht — through half-lidded eyes.
"Taking the virginity of a Hero who submits only to you… that sounds like it could be pretty fun. Isn't that enough compensation for an apology?"
"……You."
"I wasn't trying to be sarcastic. Any man would… have those kinds of dirty thoughts once or twice. Of course they would. I was asking if it wasn't a good offer for you too."
That was what "men" had always been, in Erinn's experience. The village men back when she wasn't yet a Hero. The nobles, the generals, the soldiers she met after becoming one. Not a single one of them had looked at her without that kind of gaze.
She wasn't blaming them for it. Instinct was instinct. When a beautiful woman was present, men wanted her; when a handsome man was present, women wanted him.
Feeling a primal desire for an outstanding member of the opposite sex — that was simply a desire any human creature was bound to have.
So of course the man in front of her would have that desire too.
"Don't talk nonsense."
And yet, for some reason, Albrecht only sounded irritated.
"You think sleeping with you is worth that much?"
"……It isn't?"
"It isn't, you idiot."
Albrecht still looked thoroughly annoyed, his face twisted in a scowl.
"A physical relationship with no feelings attached — I don't want that. You think something like that has value? No. There's nothing of the sort."
"…"
"It's just unpleasant."
He glared at Erinn, still frowning.
"Right now… you're looking at me as 'Allen' and offering me your virginity, aren't you?"
She couldn't deny it in good conscience. That hadn't been her only reason for saying it, but part of it had been exactly that.
"I don't take that kind of thing. There might be people out there who enjoy being used as someone's substitute, but I'm not one of them."
"…"
"And I'm not sorry about it either. Dragging me into this body wasn't my will — it was yours. I'm the victim here."
Having said that, Albrecht let out a long breath.
"…Haa. I'll forget this. Let's pretend I never heard it."
He still seemed irritated, scratching roughly at his head.
Why?
Erinn couldn't make sense of his behavior. She asked, genuinely puzzled.
"…Why?"
"What?"
"Why are you being considerate like that? By your own words… you're the victim, and I'm the perpetrator. You have no reason to treat a perpetrator this way."
She looked at him with an expression that said she simply did not understand.
"This is your chance to do whatever you want with the person who wronged you. You could take revenge on the one who dragged you here against your will. You could even satisfy the kind of desire any person would have! And you're just throwing that away?"
Erinn pressed him.
"Why on earth? Don't tell me you're still trying to play the part of 'Allen'?"
"What? Why would I do that?"
"Then why…"
Albrecht clicked his tongue and shot her a sidelong look. Then he glanced at her — wearing nothing but thin underclothes — sighed, pulled off the cloak wrapped around his own shoulders, and held it out to her.
"Put this on first. We can talk after you're dressed."
"…"
"Or put those pieces of armor you dropped on the ground back on."
In other words: put your armor back on. He was dressing it up, but the meaning was clear — he was refusing the reward, the compensation, she had offered.
Erinn glanced down at her own body, then back up at him.
"…Are you gay, by any chance?"
"…Don't say weird things."
Albrecht looked like he very much wanted to thump her on the head, then let out a short, weary sigh.
"…Why am I being considerate?"
"…Yeah."
"Because the memories I have with you all weren't entirely bad ones."
At Albrecht's words, Erinn's eyes went round.
"…What do you mean?"
"What do I mean… You usually go around saying I have the intelligence of a monkey. You can't figure this out?"
Albrecht went on.
"You asked me if I didn't want to go back to an ordinary life, but I actually like adventuring more than you'd think. So the memories of being with you all aren't that bad."
"……Huh?"
"Like you said, I can't stay in this party. But I'll probably end up adventuring on my own. Originally I wouldn't have had the strength for anything but sitting still in everyday life, but…"
He stirred a faint thread of mana, showing it off for her to see. By Erinn's standards it was pitifully meager, but still—
"Now I have power. It's nothing special, but it's real power all the same."
"…"
Erinn was shaken on several levels at once. These were words Allen would never have spoken.
And so she understood all over again. Her scrambled thoughts locked onto him with painful clarity. It was a truth she did not want to accept, but there was no helping it.
Even if this body was Allen's, the person inside it was now someone completely different.
"So I'll keep moving too. Things turned out this way, so I won't be able to keep the promise I made with you — but if I work hard enough on my own, I should at least end up somewhere I can hear news of you all."
Erinn stared at him with wide eyes.
He was different from Allen.
Same face, same voice — and yet everything he said was the kind of thing Allen could never have said.
Unlike the man she had loved and resented in equal measure — the man who never thought of the future and could never be satisfied with the present —
This man, Albrecht, was drawing a future for himself.
And he was talking about doing it alone, without borrowing her strength.
"…"
He clearly knew a great deal. He knew things even Erinn didn't. He would try to accomplish something with that knowledge.
But would it really work out? Even Erinn, who wasn't the one walking that path, couldn't help but wonder.
And yet, somehow—
"…How can you be so confident?"
"What? Are you raining on my parade right now?"
"That's not what I mean."
Erinn asked,
"You just seem… so certain."
"…Certain? What are you talking about?"
But Albrecht answered,
"Who can be certain about their own future? I'm not a prophet."
"…Then how can you talk like that? That you can get stronger on your own, without help from me or the party?"
"Why are you so sure I can't?"
"Well…"
For a moment Erinn swallowed the words back down.
Because Allen never could.
That was what had nearly come out. She knew he was different, and yet every time she looked at that face she still thought of him as Allen.
Catching herself, she said something else instead.
"…Because it's hard."
"…It will be hard. Hard, sure, but—"
Albrecht gave a small, unexpected snort of laughter. Then he asked her,
"Was it easy for you?"
"……!"
"It's hard for everyone. At the beginning."
He scratched lightly at his head. The remark pricked his conscience a little.
Strictly speaking, this world wasn't entirely new to him. Even if some things were different, this was still Dungeon in Evil — the game world he had played through more times than he could count.
Even so, he needed to say this clearly to Erinn now, so that the parting waiting for them after the Obelisk raid wouldn't feel quite so bitter.
"So it'll be hard for me too. I can't be certain. But you still try, don't you?"
Albrecht looked at her.
"You started the same way, didn't you? A country girl who suddenly became a Hero. If anything, it was harder for you than for me."
At his words, Erinn gave a small nod.
Yes.
"…I think it was."
It was a memory from quite a long time ago, but it felt like that had been the case.
"Of course it might not work out. But there's no need to decide in advance that it can't."
Erinn nodded again. He was right.
Allen might have been able to do the same, if only he had had the will.
"…Is that why you had that look on your face?"
"What look?"
"You looked full of conviction."
"That?"
Albrecht stared at her as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing.
"I learned that from you."
"…What?"
"You seriously don't know?"
Albrecht said,
"It's confidence."
"……!"
Erinn stared blankly at him.
Confidence.
Had she ever had something like that? The thought was so absurd she almost laughed out loud.
Apparently, all those times she had deliberately put on a mischievous grin and thrown herself into battle — thinking he was Allen — had looked to him like overflowing confidence.
"……No."
"Hm?"
"I don't have anything like that."
"What are you talking about? Who's more full of confidence than you…"
Erinn didn't bother answering. She lowered her head a little and said,
"I'm sorry. For saying something so strange. After putting you in this situation, the least I could do is cheer you on for the road ahead, and instead…"
"…Hearing you say you're sorry over and over for a while now is starting to feel weird."
"…And thank you. Honestly… the reward was something I offered out of pure resignation. You're right."
Albrecht let out a short, incredulous laugh, then answered flatly.
"I figured as much."
"…I'm sorry for making it unpleasant, too."
"It's fine."
Albrecht tossed another piece of firewood onto the flames as he spoke.
"We still have to stick together until the Obelisk is cleared. Let's not keep apologizing and make things even more awkward."
"…You're surprisingly considerate."
"Surprisingly? That's rich. If I weren't considerate, I'd have flicked you on the forehead every time you acted up."
"You? Flicking me?"
At Erinn's question, Albrecht had no choice but to clamp his mouth shut. Whether he could actually have flicked her forehead even if he wanted to was already an open question.
"I'm joking."
"…Ah. Right."
With that, Albrecht fell quiet again. Much like Erinn had earlier, he grew still and simply stared into the campfire.
Erinn turned over everything he had said a moment ago.
…He's different from Allen.
Different wasn't even the word. Only the outward appearance was the same. What he carried inside was so opposite to Allen that you could almost call them complete inverses of each other.
And because of that, a completely different kind of trust was taking root — the kind Allen had never inspired. It came from the things he had just said and done.
Of course, if it had only been talk, Erinn wouldn't have trusted him. But he had already shown results.
Just as he had promised her, he was steadily finding his own usefulness.
"Ah."
Then Albrecht looked at her as if something had just occurred to him.
"Erinn."
"…What?"
"You said you knew everything about the Murder Clown problem except the last part."
"……I didn't put it quite like that."
"You said you didn't know the final problem. Which means you knew the rest."
Erinn flinched slightly. Allen would have missed that and moved on… and yet this man somehow caught everything.
"What does that mean? How do you know that? Humanity still doesn't have a detailed grasp of the Demon King's army's structure."
"You realize that question applies to you too, right?"
"…Ah. So you're saying you have no intention of telling me either?"
Albrecht sighed — eugh — and said,
"Fine. Don't tell me."
He gave up on things like this easily, too. When someone clearly didn't want to talk, he didn't dig in and hound them — he just let it go.
It wasn't that he wanted to give up. This, too, was probably consideration on his part.
Being on the receiving end of nothing but consideration was starting to sit poorly with Erinn. She didn't think it was right for the perpetrator to keep being treated kindly by the victim.
So, just a little—
"……Do you want to know?"
Toward this reliable person who was so different from Allen, she felt the urge to talk.
Erinn asked,
"Why I know these things?"
"…Honestly, yeah. I'm curious."
"Then tell me something too."
"What?"
Erinn said,
"How you know the things you know. Tell me that, and I'll tell you."
"You wouldn't believe me even if I did."
"I'll be the judge of that."
Albrecht gave a small nod of agreement.
Erinn looked at him for a moment, then slowly opened her mouth.
"It's a bit of a long story. So before I start, I'll summarize it in one line."
"A summary?"
"I—"
Erinn said,
"This isn't my first life."