The Boss
The man named Stanashila Aljen whom Rebecca had encountered in her hallucination had been, precisely as the rumors claimed, a demon wearing human skin—thoroughly and shockingly depraved.
A violent drunk, a delinquent, a debauchee, a criminal, a blot upon his family name, the disgrace of the ducal house... In that illusion, every vile moniker clung to him, and he had lived down to every single one of them. No, he had been far worse than his reputation.
Such a beast would hardly leave a beauty untouched once she fell into his grasp.
Threats, coaxing, outright violation... He had used every available method to claim a woman's body, only to discard her without a second thought the moment he grew bored. That subhuman wretch was the Stanashila Aljen of the hallucination.
Rebecca had suffered the same fate; by the time her wits returned, she had already been reduced to his personal plaything. If there was any difference between her and the other women, it was only that she had never been cast aside.
Perhaps that was simply because she was the centerpiece of the illusion... but as a result, she had been subjected to far deeper, far more relentless torment.
"Nnngh..."
Just remembering it made her shudder with shame and humiliation, yet now that she knew it had all been false, she felt an embarrassing, prickling sense of... curiosity.
It was like a virgin feeling sexual stimulation for the first time. No, she had seen and heard enough over the years to know far more than one might expect, yet because she remained an untouched maiden, her curiosity burned all the hotter.
Was the real-world Aljen just as sadistic in bed as the one in the illusion?
Did the real Aljen actually possess that enormous shaft she had seen, felt, and taken inside herself?
In that dream, she had been overwhelmed with pleasure and had come with agonizing ease; could her real body truly respond like that?
Thoughts tumbled one after another, an unruly cascade.
Her entire consciousness drifted helplessly toward that forbidden realm, like an adolescent boy suddenly waking to raw lust. Rebecca knew it was scandalous, but she could hardly help herself. After all, she had lived well into her mid-twenties thinking of nothing but combat and her younger sister. In a life far closer to warhorses and steel than flowers and pastries, there had never been any room for romance or courtship.
Seven out of ten adventurers and mercenaries were men, so opportunities to rub shoulders with the opposite sex had been plentiful enough. Yet what little remained of her maiden heart yearned not for mere brushes of shoulders, but for a true, genuine connection. How could she ever feel that toward coarse ruffians who spat vulgar jokes, reeked of cheap liquor, and threw around slimy, swaggering catcalls?
And so, she had quietly abandoned all hope of romance. Then, completely out of nowhere, an advanced, unsparing crash course had been forcibly injected straight into her mind.
Horrifying though the memories were, they served as shock therapy that jolted her dying maidenhood wide awake. It was nothing short of a volcanic eruption of instincts and desires she had spent years tamping down until they hardened into stone.
Even now, a storm of wild delusions born from that pseudo-experience wreaked havoc inside her head. Calling what she endured in the illusion an "experience" was an overstatement, but to be completely honest, Rebecca suspected that if they tumbled into bed this very second, reality wouldn't feel all that different.
Damn those specters...! Why did they have to make the illusion so vivid?!
Part of it was the sheer caliber of the mental attacks wielded by the fiends of the Bottom of Rancor, but more than that, it was because those creatures were thoroughly driven by lingering attachments and carnal desire. Having died and lost their physical forms, their souls worn thin and decayed, all they had left were beast-like instinctual cravings and a handful of bitter regrets. Because of that, the carnal portions of the hallucination were unnervingly specific and visceral, etching themselves into her mind far deeper than any abstract memory or emotion.
Worse still, the illusions the monsters wove were seasoned with fragments of their own past experiences, making every sensation feel utterly authentic. The proof was the heat still lingering in her veins: every single spasm of pleasure, every wave of ecstasy, every shuddering climax she had experienced over and over.
"...!"
She stole a sidelong glance at Aljen, who was stumbling along ahead of them, and a violent flush swept across her entire body.
"Hah, hah..."
Fabricated memories played across the screen of her mind like a panoramic theater. Her maidenhood, surrendered under duress; serving as his relief vessel anywhere, anytime; the distinct sensations of being humiliated in every conceivable posture; the searing, foreign fullness of that massive thing piercing her to her core; the sticky, obsessive conditioning that systematically mapped out every erotic zone of her flesh; and the body that had grown so helplessly sensitive beneath his hands...
"Ngh...!"
It was supposed to be shameful and degrading. As an untouched maiden, she was supposed to recoil from it in horror. Yet strangely enough, her body ached for it. Like an addict craving a hit.
She craved that towering pleasure she had tasted in the illusion, that dizzying, suffocating ecstasy... She craved Stanashila Aljen.
"Rebecca? What's the matter? Are you hurt?"
"Hyah?! L-Lady Vivian?! N-No, not at all! I'm fine! Nothing's wrong!"
Startled by Vivian's innocent, wide-eyed inquiry, Rebecca frantically yanked back the hand that had been drifting down between her own thighs and plastered on an awkward, desperate smile.
Ugh...!
She had no idea how she was ever going to look Aljen in the eye again.
The dungeon we were currently clearing, the Bottom of Rancor, had a unique gimmick: its scale and depth shifted according to the mental resistance of those who stepped inside. I didn't know the exact formulas, but with the Holy Guardian Fortress shielding us, our party would likely need to push through only two or three environmental transitions before reaching the boss room.
"Finally here."
"Lord Aljen. What is this place...?"
"The mid-boss spawn point."
Trudging through the sweltering, claustrophobic forest had been thoroughly unpleasant and suffocating, so the sudden appearance of a vast, crystalline lake stretching out before us was immensely refreshing.
"Uninvited guests who bear no summons... For what purpose do you trample and desecrate our sanctuary?"
Right on cue, an unrealistically beautiful woman rose from the center of the lake. Her translucent silhouette cast a soft, ethereal radiance across the water, looking benevolent, gorgeous, and deeply mystical as her feet drifted over the surface.
"Alright. Big Sis. Give her a nice, crisp roast."
"Just blast that thing? Fine."
Kzzzzzz-crack!
"Screeeaaagh?!"
I was cold enough, but Weller, unleashing an oversized offensive spell without a single microsecond of hesitation, truly lived up to her reputation.
"...U-Um, Lord Aljen. Shouldn't we at least hear what she has to say before fighting...?"
"Brother. Isn't that a little too cruel...?"
"Whoa... What is wrong with these people...?"
Letting the murmured protests from Rebecca, Vivian, and Cacciola slide right past my ears, I checked on the mid-boss, the Banshee.
"U-Urrgh... What is the meaning of this unprovoked..."
"Hmm. Guess taking it out in one hit was too much to ask."
"What? Are you looking down on me right now? Just you wait. I'll turn it to ash this instant!"
Vwooom—!
Magic circles stitched themselves across the empty air around Weller as she began mumbling an incantation under her breath.
"Y-You wretched worms! I will slaughter every last one of you! Skreeeeaaaargh!"
A hideous, soul-rending shriek carried physical concussive force as it tore toward us, but our vanguard line was sturdy to an almost ridiculous degree.
"Hmph!"
"Haaaah!"
"A mere phantom dares?!"
Muriel erected a shimmering sword veil, Rebecca unleashed a sharp burst of aura, and Lira activated an artifact.
"...Lira. You had artifacts on you?"
"Pardon? Ah, yes. I carry a few defensive artifacts intended for emergencies."
"Why bring that up only now...? No, never mind."
I caught myself wondering if this party composition was even sane. When the ducal house itself was a complete dysfunctional mess, was it only natural that the knights dispatched from it were just as unhinged?
"Inferno Wave."
While we traded words, Weller completed her formula and swept her hand forward. The massive magic circle flared with blinding intensity, unleashing a torrential wave of azure flames.
"Oh. Perfect choice of spell."
"Aaaaagh!!"
"Skreeeeeeek!!"
"Kuwaaaargh!!"
The instant the superheated inferno surged forward to sweep across the entire lake, a chorus of countless agonizing screams erupted from the depths.
"Lord Aljen, what is that?!"
"Ah. That lake isn't actual water. It's ectoplasm formed from countless fused souls. When the Banshee gets pushed into a corner, she absorbs them to power herself up."
In other words, Phase Two.
Except right now, Weller's spell was vaporizing the entire lake in one go, which meant Phase Two had just been cleanly skipped.
"Aaaaargh!"
Since the Banshee was essentially tethered to the ectoplasm lake, dodging the blast had been impossible, and she was swallowed whole by the roaring azure tide.
"I-Is it dead?!"
As if answering Vivian's shout, a head poked up through the shimmering heat haze where the flames were dying down. Unlike before, the creature's skin and muscle had melted away to expose raw bone, and thick tears of blood streamed from its hollow eye sockets.
"Heeek?!"
"Kyaah?!"
While Cacciola and Vivian shrieked in disgust, Muriel, Rebecca, and Lira instantly dropped into combat stances.
"Lord Aljen. Is it safe to step into the lake bed?"
"Huh? Well... we have the Holy Guardian Fortress, so it's probably fine. Still, hold on a second. It'll be a lot simpler if we wait."
None of them seemed to understand my reasoning, but seeing them quietly fix their gazes on the Banshee without questioning me was rather endearing.
"Kuuuugh...! I'll kill you! I will tear every single one of you apart! The hatred! The resentment burnsss! Skreeeeaaaargh!!"
Once more, the Banshee's wail ripped through the air. But unlike her earlier attack, this shriek carried no offensive intent; it was a summon meant to drag in souls.
"Ah, ahhh...!"
"It calls... It calls to me...!"
"I must go... I must..."
What little remained of the scorched ectoplasm clung sloppily to the Banshee's frame, while scores of specters burst from the surrounding tree line, plunging directly into her body to be absorbed.
"Straight to Phase Three, huh...? No need to let her finish her transformation, then. Muriel, Rebecca. Go put it down."
"Understood."
"Alright! Finally, something worth swinging a sword at!"
While Muriel gave a curt reply and glided forward with silent, fluid steps, Rebecca let out a spirited battle cry, stomping the earth hard as she propelled herself like an arrow.
...Was it just my imagination, or was she being way more boisterous than usual?
Either way, the two women crossed the dried, exposed lake bed in a flash, their blades wrapped in sharp aura as they mercilessly carved into the Banshee's form.
Slash!
"Kiiieeeaaagh?!"
Though it was not flesh and blood in the truest sense, the physical manifestation split and tore apart all the same, drawing a deafening, agonized screech from the monster.
"N-No... For me... for me to end like this, so pointlesslyyy...!"
Having suffered catastrophic damage that skipped an entire phase, and cut down before she could finish absorbing the remaining ectoplasm and specters, the Banshee crumbled into nothingness with laughable ease.
"Phew..."
"Tch. Wasn't much after all. At least the cut felt decent, though..."
"If you find it so dull, why not ask Lord Aljen for another demonstration?"
"...Not on your life. Once was more than enough."
By the game's lore, that Banshee was supposed to be quite the formidable mid-boss, so listening to Muriel and Rebecca casually banter after obliterating it without an ounce of respect brought a smirk to my face. Well, ignorance really was bliss, as they said.
Gurgle, rumble!
Barely a moment after the Banshee dissipated, the world began to warp once more.
"...Oh."
The scenery shifted into a dark, foreboding graveyard. And not just any cemetery—it was a sprawling, subterranean imperial mausoleum of a scale fit for an ancient king.
"Who dares... disturb this sovereign's eternal rest... with muddy boots...?"
Waiting to receive us was a skeletal, translucent figure crowned in rusted gold: a Lich.
In typical fantasy tales, they were hyped up as sovereign lords of the undead or rulers of eternity... but to a veteran gamer like me, it was just another common high-tier mob.
"A Lich...?!"
"To think a creature of myth was slumbering in a place like this!"
"Heh, hehehe... Well, this is a surprise. I never expected to see a genuine Lich in the flesh...!"
"A Lich...?! Can we even defeat the King of the Undead?!"
Watching everyone freak out over the creature's title was genuinely entertaining.
"Relax and just charge the thing. It relies mostly on mental interference, just like the rest of the garbage in this dungeon."
"...Understood."
Oh? Muriel's response was slightly delayed for once. Even she felt the weight of the name 'Lich,' apparently.
"W-We just need to hit it, right?! Lord Aljen! I'm trusting you on this!"
Rebecca raised her voice, clearly trying to shout down her own lingering unease.
"I told you, it's fine. Ah, Big Sis, can you cast any spells right now?"
"...Nothing on the scale of the last one."
"What tier was that back there?"
"Fifth."
"What can you manage right now?"
"Around the seventh tier. If I push myself, maybe sixth."
"More than enough. Lira. Stick close and guard Big Sis, Vivian, and me."
"Yes, my lord."
"Well? What are you two waiting for? Go hit it already."
I waved my hand lazily at Muriel and Rebecca. The pair threw me deeply skeptical looks for a heartbeat, then relented with an air of resignation and dashed forward.
...Though, was it just my imagination, or had Rebecca's glance at me been a little strange just now?