The Archipelago (1)
“Do stop by our estate again sometime!”
After Isabelle departed, making a show of reluctance and insisting she had unavoidable business to attend to, Joy stared blankly after her yearning figure, then sighed and dragged a hand down her face.
“What on earth happened between you and Lady Aln, that Count Artea—the man they call the Iron-Blooded Merchant—would grovel like that?”
I couldn't bring myself to answer. I didn't trust myself to make her believe that the head of House Artea was simply a man who lived and breathed for anything touched by divinity, so I just started walking.
Sensing I had no intention of replying, Joy pressed no further and cast her eyes around our surroundings instead.
“There seem to be a lot of... rough-looking people here.”
“Well, this is the Adventurers' Isle. Of course the atmosphere's different from any other territory.”
Arthur's explanation was on the mark. The Archipelago—a region ringed with reefs where the unwary couldn't even find the approach—had a ruler in name only and nobody actually administering it.
Bluntly put, there was nothing to be gained here, so no one had ever bothered to lay a hand on it.
Farming was next to impossible, no rare resources ever surfaced, and while each island hosted its own small-to-medium dungeon, the materials those dungeons yielded could be found in plenty of others besides.
Everyone had judged that the cost of managing fourteen islands and fourteen dungeons far outweighed the returns, and so while the islands technically fell within the kingdom's borders, not a single noble of the realm actually governed them.
So who looked after the islands where people lived? The Adventurers' Guild, of course.
The fourteen dungeons, each with its own flavor and a comfortable difficulty range, made a decent training ground for adventurers honing their skills—and the Guild, charmed by the setup, had offered to administer these islands the kingdom treated as white elephants and pay taxes on them out of its own pocket.
The kingdom, already at its wits' end over finding anyone willing to take the place, happily accepted. And that was how the islands became the Adventurers' Isle.
“Which is why it's famous as a place any adventurer worth their salt ought to visit at least once.”
Even after walking us through the basics of the islands, Arthur kept up his lecture—covering the local ecology, the distinguishing traits of each island's dungeon, and more. Some of it was a touch inaccurate, but I held my tongue; I didn't want to sour his enthusiasm.
Maybe he'd always had an interest in the Archipelago, or maybe my announcement of a test had lit a fire under him and he'd researched it for dear life. Either way, I found it endearing. Ambition really does make a student worth teaching.
“Hey, Third Prince. Why's everyone here so pathetically weak?”
Frey, who'd been quietly listening to Arthur's rundown, lobbed out that loaded question in a voice of pure, guileless innocence—not a shred of malice in it. Perhaps her voice carried a little too well; the adventurers around us visibly flinched.
“Haah. Frey. You really are something else.”
“What? It's true, isn't it? This place is stuffed full of idiots who don't even know proper swordsmanship.”
And true it was—the average adventurer on the Archipelago wasn't much to write home about.
Like I said, the living was harsh here but the rewards were meager. The only ones who stuck around were the self-styled adventurers, all shoulders and swagger, a ragtag crowd of drifters and layabouts.
People with real skill preferred to conquer the continent's mega-dungeons or sign on with mercenary companies and make a name for themselves.
Still, we'd be staying here more than a week—no sense picking fights with the locals before we'd even started. Watching the adventurers cast wary glances at the knights guarding us, itching to glare but lacking the nerve to actually complain, I jabbed Frey in the ribs as she wound up to expound on just how pathetic these adventurers were.
“Big talk from a scrub swordsman who loses to me every single time?♡”
“...Not a scrub. A dumb swordsman.”
“Sure, sure. Scrub swordsman♡”
“I said I'm not a scrub!?”
“Aren't you, though? Dumb swordsman?♡”
“That's why I'm not dumb! I'm a scrub... wait. Huh?”
Entangling herself in her own contradiction, Frey floundered as I steered her along toward the inn. We meant to head straight for the dungeon as soon as we'd dropped off our luggage.
“As I understand it, there are certain formalities to complete before one may enter a dungeon?”
Took care of all that ages ago.
“I naturally prepared everything in advance. Do kindly refrain from assuming I'm as hopelessly ignorant as a certain Pitiful Prince who spent his days buried in the palace. I find it off-putting.”
All the tedious paperwork was already handled. Picture the four of us barging into the Adventurers' Guild together—an organization composed almost entirely of commoners, its nobility limited to honorary titles and the occasional baron. It would have been an absolute circus.
So I'd asked Karia in advance to quietly see the formalities through for us. That way we could devote ourselves entirely to clearing dungeons, and nothing else.
“Um... Lady Aln? So we're heading straight to the dungeon, then?”
Yes. You got plenty of rest on the ship, after all.
“You slept the entire voyage and you're already thinking of resting again? You airhead. Keep that up and you'll turn into an airhead pig.”
“That is never going to happen!”
Stepping out of the lodgings Newman had arranged for us, I noticed our escort of knights had gained one more member.
A man with a taciturn bearing, who'd been trading words with the knights, spotted us and snapped to a crisp salute.
“Greetings, honored nobles. I am Benber of Rias, assigned to guide you through these islands. Please, feel free to simply call me Benber.”
Anyone would have taken him for a gentleman of some noble house—but I alone knew exactly who was hiding beneath that disguise.
The man introducing himself as Benber was Karia, in full masquerade.
Voice, appearance, manner of speech, habitual gestures—nothing matched her at all. But the fading aura of the Evil God's curse still dissipating within her marked her beyond any doubt.
She'd said she'd find us an extra pair of hands, and then she'd come herself. No wonder Benedict had approved the trip to the Archipelago so readily—he'd figured that with Karia tagging along, nothing could go badly wrong.
“Let's move quickly. If we intend to clear two dungeons a day, we can't afford to waste a minute.”
Following Karia's lead, we arrived at the first dungeon. Situated along the coast, it was known for dropping better loot than its counterparts, and so the footsteps of adventurers never ceased around it.
Unlike the mega-dungeons, medium dungeons limited how many people could enter at once, which meant waiting your turn at the dungeon's mouth. We didn't have to. Karia had already claimed our slot before we arrived.
“Straight into dungeon clearing with barely a moment to breatheee.”
“This is fun. I wish we always did it like this...”
“Only you think that, Frey Kent.”
Herding the three of them as they grumbled at each other, I stepped through the dungeon entrance—and my friends' eyes snapped straight to me. Same as always, they were expecting me to take point and command.
And of course, I was more than capable of granting that wish. Given my current specs, a dungeon of this caliber would fall in well under an hour.
But instead of laying out the plan, I simply turned a long look on Arthur.
“Pitiful Prince. Surely you've committed the flawless guide I wrote for you to memory?♡ You were so terribly confident back then—you haven't failed to finish it, have you?♡”
“Why do you ask?”
“You didn't?♡ And here you were puffing yourself up about how much you'd show us. All bluster, was it?♡ Pfft♡ How very like you, Pitiful Prince♡”
“Nonsense. I memorized every word. I merely wonder what prompts you to bring it up the moment we set foot inside a dungeon.”
“What do you think?♡ A Pitiful Prince—useless and weak, but sharp as a tack when it counts—should be able to figure it out♡”
“...You cannot mean to have me command the dungeon clear?”
Watching Arthur blink rapidly, I curled my lips upward.
“If you can't clear it within the time limit, a truly mag~nificent punishment awaits, so give it your best♡ Of course, if you'd rather be punished, feel free to slack off♡”
I lavished him with provocations to stoke his fighting spirit, and in an instant Arthur's face went scarlet.
“Very well. I shall do it. I will clear this dungeon within your time limit. But when I succeed, you will offer up that forehead of yours.”
“You're that desperate to leave your mark on my pristine forehead?♡ What utterly perverted tastes you have♡ It's disgusting♡”
“...Tch.”
I answered his clicking tongue with a giggle, drew out my mace and shield, and took the vanguard.
Hehe. Time to step off the player's seat and spectate Arthur's command as an NPC, shall we?
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
Joy knew Arthur's abilities well. She'd followed his command through dungeon clears more times than she could count.
His light was simply dimmed by the presence at his side of an existence named Lucy—a creature beyond all known categories. Arthur, too, possessed a composure and battle-craft far beyond his years.
“Lucy. Don't fight them head-on. Just hold the line.”
“Sending such an adorable, delicate young girl to the front lines? What a beast you are, my lord.”
“...Frey. You take the two coming up from the rear.”
“On it.”
“And come back when you're done. Don't go rampaging off on your own.”
“...Tch.”
But what Arthur was demonstrating now went well beyond being merely above his peers.
His command ability had grown so dramatically since the final exams that it called to mind a seasoned knight.
Finding the correct route through a dungeon he was entering for the first time. Handling the monsters that lunged from the dark. Answering trap after trap. Even taking down the mid-floor boss. Every single facet of it had improved by leaps and bounds, incomparable to before.
She remembered him asking to learn dungeon-clearing methods from Lady Aln. But that had been barely a month or two ago—and he hadn't even had the leisure to study properly in the meantime. Could anyone really grow this fast?
Was the Third Prince's talent truly that extraordinary? Or was it the book Lady Aln had given him?
“Joy. Quit daydreaming and prepare your magic.”
“Already done.”
Joy snapped out of her thoughts and brought her nine pre-formed magic circles into reality. Ice arrows sprang from each circle in turn, boring into the joints between the monsters' carapaces.
Moments later came the crackle of frost spreading beneath the shells, and the monsters shattered like porcelain and sprawled across the stone floor.
It was magic used with ruthless, pragmatic efficiency. Arthur, who hadn't expected the fight to end in a single stroke, broke out in a sweat at the sight—but Joy herself stood there perfectly unbothered, as if nothing of note had happened.
“The Airhead Lady's magic has gotten fierce, hasn't it? I take it losing to me so many times left an impression?”
“Nothing of the sort. It's simply that after so many sparring matches, I came to feel flashy magic was rather pointless, so I made a few adjustments.”
Arthur looked at Joy as she puffed up her shoulders with an expression halfway between admiration and exasperation. However much she carried the blood of House Partran, the girl's magical talent had blown clean past every known bound.
It occurred to him that perhaps the one to inherit Partran might not be Jeff Partran after all, but Joy—
“...Kyaaah?!”
The thought died the instant he watched her step onto her own ice and skid headlong.
“Pfft. PWAHAHAHA. The airhead really is an airhead!”
“Stop laughing and help me up! Quickly, please!”
Retraction withdrawn. If that girl ever inherited Partran, some calamity was bound to follow.
Sighing at Joy's beet-red face, Arthur turned—and blinked at the sight of Frey, already back at his side.
There had been quite a lot of movement from the rear. She'd finished all of it in that span of time?
“They were all weak. Boring.”
“...I see. How... unfortunate for you.”
...At this level, it might actually be possible. I might just win the bet I accepted in a moment of madness.
Face to face with talents that bordered on monstrous, Arthur clenched his fists and set his mind racing without pause.
All to escape the punishment Lucy Aln would surely deal out.