Chapter 343
Translator: crow
Chapter Title: Dark Fantasy Normalization
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"Huff...! Huff...! Huff...!"
A woman gasped for breath repeatedly.
It was her behavior after she had rushed into a building as if fleeing through the streets.
"Hey, miss. What's wrong?"
Then a voice that was boyish yet gravelly inquired after her well-being.
The kind of voice that came out when you got boys thoroughly drunk on liquor?
The woman—
The Crawling Library Elloran immediately realized it was a dwarf's voice.
"Sorry— huff...! There was—... huff! Some weird thing in the streets, and I ended up running blindly and wound up here—... huff! Here somehow."
"Whoa, what on earth happened?"
"Yeah, what could be so awful in this city?"
"Ah, did you maybe see a dragon flying over the city?"
"Ah! Could be!"
"...Pardon?"
Elloran pushed up her thick red horn-rimmed glasses with her fingertip amid the dwarves' hearty laughter.
'A dragon out of nowhere?'
She figured it was just the dwarves' mischievous joking and didn't put much stock in their words.
"Hoo..."
After calming down a bit, Elloran belatedly looked around.
Her eyes widened in surprise.
The space was filled with top-tier workshop equipment that was rare even in major cities.
Probably only something on the level of the Granite Iron Guild's forge could compare—
"...Ah! The Granite Iron Guild!"
"Huh? Didn't you just say you wandered in by mistake?"
"If you're talking about the Granite Iron Guild, then you came to the right place."
"No, what I mean is—"
'The Granite Iron Guild really did establish a massive branch in Bondalles that rivals their headquarters!'
Elloran's eyes widened as she confirmed the rumor she'd heard was true.
'Word was, they followed that hero of the advance party and settled here! Along with the demon swords!'
It was the moment her curiosity as the Crawling Library ignited.
"Excuse me, everyone. Do you have some time right now?"
"Hm?"
"If it's okay with you all, there's a bunch I want to ask— Ah! Of course, I wouldn't dream of wasting the precious time of Granite Iron Guild artisans for nothing!"
"What's this all of a sudden? Who the heck are you?"
"Didn't you say you wandered in by accident?"
"Come on~ Can't we forget that minor detail for now? Let's focus on this fateful encounter we've stumbled into! First off, pardon me. I should've introduced myself sooner. As for me—"
Elloran pulled a thin book from her bosom, opened it, and took out a bookmark to hand to them.
It was a business card. Quite striking at first glance—
The kind required for her profession to leave a strong first impression?
"What's this, a business card?"
"Let's see... One-Woman Information Guild, Crawling Library— Ah, the Crawling Library!?"
"No, it's not Crawling—"
"The info broker who knows everything, and she's such a pretty young lady!?"
"...Ahem, sharp eyes, I like it. The easiest way to get people talking is apparently a beautiful face, so I do pay extra attention to that."
"So, Crawling Library. What business do you have with us?"
"Like I said, I want to hear all sorts of stories from you all. About this city— Bondalles' recent situation, and everything that happened with the advance party!"
Whoa there!
The dwarves stepped back.
Elloran had thrust her face at them like a striking snake.
Her glasses lenses gleaming!
"What is it? What brought about such massive changes? Who's at the center of it all!? Depending on your answers, we might all end up very happy together."
"Sure, you get your info and you're happy, but how do we get happy?"
"Hehe, tell me. Who am I?"
"Craw—"
"Right, the Walking Library Elloran. The one and only top info broker!"
"But we don't really need any urgent info."
"That's because you only just met me now—"
That was when Elloran was in the midst of her hawking(?) pitch.
Ding-a-ling.
The bell at the forge's main entrance jingled, announcing a visitor.
The dwarves leaned over to peer past Elloran.
"Oh! Speak of the devil, it's you? The one he said he'd send—"
"Huh?"
Elloran turned to follow the dwarves' gaze.
"Kyaaah!!!"
There stood Swordmaster Oegum.
"R-R-R-Rodan— did you follow me here...!?"
Her imagination, scarred by the nightmare akin to a natural disaster from getting caught up in Oegum's rascal antics in the past, veered straight to the worst.
"Huh?"
Oegum glanced at her briefly with his signature one eye.
"Ah, the Crawling Library. What brings you here?"
"...?"
Elloran's wariness, born of fear as she stared at Oegum, slowly faded.
She realized it.
The rascal Swordmaster's aura had changed somehow.
'What is it? Why does he seem... calm?'
If you stripped away the rascality from a rascal Swordmaster, what was left?
Elloran fell deep into thought.
Oegum shrugged and casually passed by her.
He spoke to the dwarf artisans.
"Heard the story?"
"Ah, yeah. That thing where the scabbard's almost done, so he'll send the last demon sword?"
"W-Wait a sec...! Did you just say— demon sword, demon sword!?"
Elloran jumped in shock at the specific word.
Her gaze locked onto Oegum's hand— and the single sword he held.
A jet-black form.
Unmistakably ominous, clearly a demon sword.
The one the advance party had supposedly acquired during their expedition!
"Wh-Why are you carrying something that dangerous!?"
Oegum with a demon sword.
Elloran couldn't imagine anything more dangerous or horrific.
As she was overcome with extreme terror—
"Huh...?"
Unlike its sinister appearance, the voice held a mystical power that uplifted the listener.
Elloran was entranced by the scene unfolding before her eyes and spoke.
And so the confrontation of the three demon swords began.
Was it her imagination?
In Elloran's eyes, the figure of a woman appeared.
A woman with overflowing black hair draped around her body like a dress shyly began to speak.
The two demon swords' mouths gaped open.
Swords or not, it was a perfectly natural reaction.
On the other hand—
"Ah, I see."
"Hm, that tracks."
Oegum and the dwarves reacted with utter nonchalance.
As if that bombshell statement was everyday chit-chat.
"N-No— w-wait, what did you just—"
Three demon swords meet, one shyly confesses.
That she'd become a holy sword, apparently.
And the people just nod.
Elloran had no clue where to even begin correcting this insane situation.
"Huh? Ah."
The dwarves saw her reaction and grinned mischievously.
"Come to think of it, you said something just now, right?"
"...Huh? Yes?"
"About who's at the center of these changes."
The dwarves' expressions were already brimming with delight as they broached the topic.
Moreover, there was a solid undercurrent of goodwill and trust.
"Come sit down. It's gonna be a long story."
Rishir, finally calming the room's atmosphere, opened his mouth.
"First, let me introduce these people. This lady here is—"
Kartria eh Sahila.
Rishir exchanged a glance with the Dark Elf princess.
To confirm her stance, since she'd once posed as a maid.
Judging by her ornate attire, the maid play seemed over.
"I know, Lady Kartria of the Sahila family."
"The one with the storied past of serving as your maid."
"Pardon?"
Fienne and Rona cut in on Rishir's words.
"Did I ever mention that...?"
"Oh come on~ As if you'd tell us something that important~? The reason I know her is obviously because she came to see me before about something involving you, right?"
"F-Fienne...?"
Rishir unwittingly stepped back.
Her mood was so sour he could practically see horns sprouting from her head.
"Anyway, she seems interested in your engagement?"
"R-Really...?"
"What on earth happened while she was your maid to make her care?"
"Wh-What do you mean what happened— nothing happened...? Just the usual—"
The usual.
At that phrase, every woman in the room nodded knowingly.
Ah.
The usual nonstop woman-charming routine!
Like he did in front of me—
And in front of the other ladies—
"""..."""
They began sidelong glances, gauging each other with awkward but blatant wariness.
In that moment.
They realized they all shared the same thoughts and stance.
"Rishir!"
"Ah! And this is Miss Ratsil. As a guardian of Ilrattain, she helped me out in various ways while I was there."
"Ah! Thanks for the kind words. Truth be told, it's a bit embarrassing for me to say it myself. As you know, Rishir, I helped you in Ilrattain, but you helped me and the citizens of Ilrattain far more. The world tree alone is proof enough. Ah! And when Rishir first met me, he treated me so kindly—"
Chatter chatter.
Blab blab.
"""Ughhh..."""
Ratsil's surprise chit-chat ambush at the most unexpected moment plunged everyone into confusion.
"...Ah! This isn't the time for this."
A moment later.
Ratsil, mercifully freeing them, snapped her head toward Rishir.
"Rishir! You still haven't answered my question!"
"Your question being—"
"I heard a nasty rumor that Rishir has a fiancée now—...!"
"..."
At this point, Rishir was in awe.
How did news about this guy spread so fast— and so far?
Rishir pondered how to unravel the complicated story around his engagement.
Misinterpreting his reaction, Ratsil wailed with a pout.
"This is unfair!"
"Unfair how—"
"If I'd known, I'd have been more aggressive too!"
Oho.
Roera, still resting her chin on Rishir's head as his little sister figure, let out an impressed sigh.
Charging in so boldly here?
"If you'd known—... you say?"
"Yes! If I'd known Rishir was the type to readily get engaged, meaning he had normal interest in the opposite sex!"
"..."
Rishir's head throbbed for a moment.
It was like with Klana—
Why did everyone think he had no interest in romance?
When he voiced the doubt, Ratsil's eyes widened.
"Your surroundings are overflowing with charming ladies like me, but Rishir doesn't give them a single glance! Every day it's training, study, training, then solve some incident for achievements, then back to training, study, training! I figured you'd live like that forever, and when the time came, maybe split into two or use magic to make heirs or something!"
"Good lord, am I really that bad?"
Rishir looked around in surprise.
The answers came from all directions.
The other women were vigorously nodding, inspired by Ratsil's speech(?).
It was a topic they'd held back on due to pride as women and other reasons.
Rishir.
His surroundings overflowed with attractive women (herself being prime example), yet not even a hint of pink sparks.
The women attributed it to Rishir's personality for various reasons.
A driven man constantly achieving and learning, too busy for romance—
Such things were utterly beneath his notice.
"Y-You said it perfectly!"
The woman who'd suffered longest in silence over this issue stood up.
It was Fienne.
"Rishir!!!"
"Yes!?"
Fienne was already tense and excited, breathing heavily.
Her face flushed, eyes misty.
"We need to settle this now! Don't think you can just brush it off!"
Fienne strode forward and stood before Rishir.
Looking up at him from point-blank range, she said,
"What do you think of me!?"
"Fienne—"
Then.
Rona whispered to Fienne from the side.
"You need to say it more strongly."
"M-More strongly!?"
Fidget fidget.
Fienne's eyes darted about.
The more so, the redder her pale face got.
Just as her face was about to explode—
"I-I want to have sex with—"
"Admit it. My fault."
Rona hurriedly clamped Fienne's mouth shut.
Of course, it didn't end there.
"Rishir!"
Fienne shook off Rona's hand and shouted.
"Make time soon— no, tomorrow... no! Right now! I want to spend time with you. Got it!?"
Fienne's uprising.
And—
"F-Fienne...!?"
Rishir's utterly ordinary reaction, unlike when facing swords or magic.
"""...!!!"
That sparked it all.
Eyes lighting up one by one.
Gazes utterly different from before turned toward the one man.
Step.
The sound of their relationships changing.
The sound of the physical distance closing.
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"..."
But.
Duran was a book.
Pamon currently didn't even have the leisure for such a simple retort.
"Our Rishir... did what?"
Wandering Star Remier.
Frozen Breath Palrag.
Master Meltas.
The stories of their disciple they'd heard from the three mages were so shocking.
"Judging by Lady Pamon's state, we were too hasty, Duke Palrag."
"Hm. Mild 'Rishir.' We were careless. Who'd have thought the gap between the Rishir Lady Pamon knows and the current Rishir would be this wide."
"Ah— actually, when I first met that guy— he was just reaching 3rd circle then."
"Ah! Then this reaction makes sense. In that case, a bit more—"
"Yes. We should be a bit more 'Rishir'-like, act more 'Rishir.'"
"What are you lot doing?"
Remier looked pityingly at the two elders conversing in their own system.
"We were saying our way of conveying the story was too radical, Remier."
"We committed the fallacy of assuming Lady Pamon, as Rishir's master, would understand everything."
"Ah... I see."
"Thus, here we need a more gradual process of coming to understand 'Rishir'—"
Master Meltas cleared his throat awkwardly.
"I believe it's fitting for me, who has known Rishir the longest, to take that role. Tower Master, does this challenge your authority by any chance?"
"Why would it."
The reaction was the polar opposite of Palrag's boiling frustration.
Leaving Remier, who leaned back coolly against his chair, Meltas excitedly began telling Pamon the tale.
Of Rishir.
The story of his path so far.
The tale of the assassin guild master posing as a high-rank adventurer and the spiritist posing as a shaman.
"...Yes, the spiritist—"
The tale of the parasite clinging to the Magic Tower's master and the half-demon stripped of her identity.
"...Yes, the black mage—"
The tale of the half-spirit who hated all purity and the elf who loved him.
"...Yes, the half-spirit—"
Pamon listened intently to it all.
How could she not?
It was about her beloved disciple.
However, separately from that, Pamon's mind seemed elsewhere.
World tree.
Holy sword.
God of light.
Will of the void.
Such utterly unrealistic tales created a massive rift within her.
The Rishir she remembered.
The Rishir they spoke of.
Pamon wandered lost between the two.
Thus, her heart seemed to drift to a distant place beyond even her control.
"Ah! Come to think of it— this is recent, but I heard Rishir got a fiancée."
"...Yes, a fiancée—... What!?"
Pamon's hazy expression regained its usual color.
A moment later.
The Dark Elf, back to her vibrant self, covered her mouth as she giggled.
"Lady Pamon...?"
Her sudden action drew questions from Meltas and the others.
"Looks like my disciple's caught in another mess, huh?"
"...Mess?"
Remier didn't understand what Pamon meant.
Palrag and Meltas, who'd been excitedly sharing Rishir stories until moments ago, were the same.
What part of a guy like Rishir getting tangled in romance was so outlandish as to warrant such a reaction?
Just like that.
While all eyed the same thing, Pamon alone gazed at something else.
"I wonder what sort of ordeal my disciple's going through now?"
Rishir.
The disciple's true form known only to her.
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Currently.
Rishir's mind was filled with one thought.
'What the hell is this.'
Rishir.
He was running right now.
To escape the horde of women chasing him.
"Rishir!!! What do you think you're doing!? Stop right now!?"
This farce had started in the Goose mansion's reception room.
Visitors who'd heard of Rishir's engagement news.
They walked into the reception room's ongoing festival atmosphere and gladly joined in.
RI-Rishir!? My master has something to say too!
An endless barrage of invitations with no end in sight.
In the end, Rishir couldn't take it and attempted escape.
He threw himself out the window and bolted.
Bringing us back to now—
"Rishir!"
"No, Alenza! Flying is cheating— Klana!?"
To make matters worse, each one was an powerhouse in her(?) own right.
Before he knew it, Rishir found himself cornered in an alley.
"""Rishir...!"""
They advanced.
Drawing closer to Rishir, demanding his answer.
This bizarre game of tag wouldn't end until he took someone's hand.
"Ah...!"
Just as Rishir sensed his doom(?).
"...!!!"
A familiar voice from somewhere made Rishir's eyes snap open.
"Rishir~"
Up in the sky.
There, the Witch of the Forest looked down at Rishir astride her broom.
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"Master!!!"
Rishir's words stirred the room's atmosphere.
Master!?
Could he be the one—
While everyone was plunged into chaos.
"Felt like my disciple needed some help~"
Pamon descended to the ground and offered Rishir her hand.
"Ah...!!!"
The tag players panicked, but it was too late.
Rishir's fingertips touched Pamon's.
Just as their hands were about to clasp.
Kuhahaha!
White flames erupted with laughter, enveloping Rishir.
For some reason blushing as she announced her name, the white flame spirit scolded the pests(?).
Then purifying winds whipped up.
The baby spirit with furrowed brows blocked Rishir's front.
Desert prankster Ber.
Hands on hips, she scolded them sternly.
The tag players sobered up at the baby spirit's cute scolding (with massive power added).
"No!?"
Ber abruptly thrust both arms skyward in declaration.
At the same time, purifying gales whipped up, carrying Rishir's body off somewhere.
"Rishir!?! "
The pests' hands reached for the sky.
Rishir was flying far into the heavens.
...
...
...
"""Rishir!!!"
Ber's gale had kidnapped Rishir.
Rishir's body was steadily moving away from Bondalles.
"Ha...!"
Rishir let out an exasperated chuckle.
What in the world was going on.
He was too tired to even think anymore.
"Hm?"
Then.
Something entered Rishir's view.
"Ah, right— this was a thing."
He'd momentarily forgotten amid the real-world chaos—
A window.
The kind you'd see in a game.
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**
"..."
In that instant.
A certain game flashed in Rishir's mind.
Perhaps this world was that game's world—
Along with the thought.
Dark clouds of rumination billowed up, threatening to swallow his thoughts whole.
"""Rishir!!!"
"Hm?"
However.
A voice from somewhere shattered Rishir's reverie.
Rishir's gaze turned to the opposite sky.
Pamon's broom.
Alenza's wings.
All of it was in hot pursuit.
The tag players(?) were chasing Rishir in their own ways.
Rishir chuckled.
And once more, he stared at that 'window'.
"...Nah—"
He thought.
No way.
This world was far too peaceful to be that game's world.
-Dark Fantasy Normalization (完)