The Archipelago (2)
In the past, the me on the other side of the monitor had posted plenty of strategy guides to the community. It wasn't out of any desire to help people — I mostly thought of it as proof that I'd worked this hard at the game, nothing more.
So when Arthur asked me to teach him how to clear the dungeon, I didn't think much of it either. I figured I could just tell him the same way I'd written it up for the community back in the day.
But as I put words to paper, I realized that wouldn't do. Arthur wasn't someone on the other side of a screen; he was someone who had to walk into the dungeon himself and fight the monsters inside it.
A method tailored for players was simply impossible for him to understand.
So I erased everything I'd written and started over. Remembering the first time I'd ever cleared Soul Academy, recalling the foundation I'd built in dungeon strategy while grinding through every mod the game had to offer.
The book that emerged from that process became an astonishing thing — on the premise that its contents were thoroughly mastered, it would let a person clear any dungeon that existed in this world.
Of course, with so much packed inside, it turned into a monstrous tome that ordinary people wouldn't even dare to open — but I didn't bother revising it.
Because the person who'd be reading the book I gave him was Arthur. A guy whose base INT stat broke 100 could handle this much standing on his head.
His base intelligence was twice what I'd managed to grind out over a full year of effort, so there was no way he couldn't do it! I manage fine with an INT of 58 — are you telling me he can't? That doesn't even make sense!
So when I handed Arthur the dungeon run today, I actually had expectations. Right up until we entered the dungeon, he'd been brimming with confidence.
At the time I even wondered if I was giving him too generous a time limit, you know? But as the run went on, I came to realize I'd overestimated Arthur.
For one thing, his pathfinding was clumsy. I told him dungeon forks follow a pattern, so all he had to do was check for it and he'd be fine — but he couldn't spot it and got lost who knows how many times. I told him wasting time on every trash mob was inefficient and to skip them whenever possible — he fought every single one anyway. And at the boss, he was so wrapped up in his own movements that he never even bothered watching the mechanics.
Ugh, honestly, you have no idea how much I suffered holding back the urge to coach him mid-run. I genuinely thought my teeth were going to shatter.
Anyway, watching him awkwardly imitate me while internalizing not one word of what I'd written in that book, I could see exactly how the bet was going to end.
And just as I predicted, Arthur failed to clear the dungeon within four hours.
It took you six hours.
"Oh my? Are my eyes playing tricks on me? Why does it look like six whole hours have gone by? There's no way that ever-so-confident Pitiful Prince of mine could have failed, right?"
Arthur only bit his lip at my needling and offered no answer. Probably replaying his own mistakes in his head. So at the very least, he knew what he'd done wrong.
"Um, Lady Aln?"
I was just thinking it was a relief he at least recognized his own faults when Joy came to Arthur's defense.
"Please don't be too hard on His Highness the Third Prince. We bear some of the blame for the run taking as long as it did."
Counterarguments to her words were a dime a dozen.
Given the specs our party actually possessed, four hours had been generous to the point of excess.
If he hadn't led us down the wrong path mid-run, time would never have been an issue at all.
And frankly speaking, failing to properly manage one's own party members was itself a failure of command.
But I didn't bother saying any of it out loud. What was the point of dragging up mistakes Arthur had surely already guessed at himself? Instead, I took the three of them straight to the next dungeon.
Watch closely, Your Highness.
"Well then, Pitiful Prince. Watch carefully, won't you? I'm about to make you feel, deep in your bones, just how pathetic your command really was."
First, I figured I'd show him the ideal he was supposed to be chasing.
When they set foot in the next dungeon, Arthur expected Lucy to demonstrate her signature style of dungeon clearing.
A method that seemed to grasp every single thing inside the dungeon at once — like reading countless futures and selecting the best path among them.
But this time, Lucy used no such approach. Rather than a prophet, she led them as a seasoned mercenary would.
"Losers up ahead. Trash like that doesn't even warrant magic. Scatterbrain, just have your spell circle prepped and ready."
"They bothered to set up a trap for something like this? Boring."
"Ignore the trash mobs trailing behind us and run. Paying attention to things like that is a waste."
"This loser here is such a freak pervert that he can't look away from cute little me? That'll hold his attention, so bombard him from behind. Scatterbrain's magic is pathetic, but this pervert is even more pathetic."
Because she'd chosen the orthodox approach rather than her usual madness, the pace was slower than normal — but that was only when measured against the standard of Lucy Aln.
How astounded the guard at the dungeon entrance had been to hear she'd finished the entire clear in just one hour made it plain enough: even when Lucy Aln held herself back, she could leave others in awe.
Having cleared two dungeons in a single day, they returned to their lodgings, and Arthur shut himself in his room to review everything that had happened.
I thought I'd understood most of the theory in the book. But the moment we entered actual combat, I realized how arrogant I'd been.
The mistakes piled up — that much was only natural — and in my fixation on what I myself should be doing, I failed even to properly command the others.
Even though the dungeon's difficulty was low for our level, losing the bet was entirely my fault.
The one mercy was that Lucy Aln had shown me, firsthand, how my problems ought to be fixed.
Lucy could have used the prophet's method as much as she pleased if she'd wanted to. Instead, she had deliberately run the dungeon in the manner of a knight. The intent was obvious to anyone. She was showing Arthur the road forward.
Because he understood this, Arthur followed at Lucy's heels, carving the sight of her advancing through the dungeon into his eyes piece by piece. And as he did, he realized something: Lucy Aln was executing everything she had written in that book as naturally as breathing.
It wasn't mere proficiency. It was a state of being where the very method of conquering a dungeon seemed etched into her bones.
Watching her, Arthur reaffirmed just what a monster of a human being Lucy Aln was — but at the same time, he arrived at one crucial insight.
The important thing is vision. The one commanding a dungeon run must not simply look ahead — they must hold the entire surrounding landscape in their head. Only then can one command flawlessly, without a single mistake.
And to do that as naturally as breathing, one must reach a level where the dungeon's strategy moves the body without ever needing to be recalled.
...
From everything that happened today, it was certain that Lucy Aln's true nature was good. If she were genuinely a malicious person, she would never have extended consideration like this.
Was that being that manipulated the sailors on the ship distorting Lucy Aln's true heart? Blocking her from speaking her genuine feelings? Why?
He could not begin to fathom the reason. Judging by its tone, that being didn't seem to bear Lucy Aln any particular hostility either — which made it all the more incomprehensible.
Arthur glared at the strategy book Lucy had given him, groping for an answer that refused to come.
He'd been at it for who knows how long when the knock at his door jolted him back to his senses. Staring blankly at a pen whose ink had long since dried, he turned his head.
"Your Highness. Might I have a moment of your time?"
"Joy? What is— no, never mind. Come in, first."
Joy entered the room, sneaking glances at the books spread open around Arthur before bowing her head.
"I apologize for intruding at such a late hour."
"The courtesy is wasted on me. More importantly, what is this about, Joy? You were fussing on and on about being exhausted."
"Ah. Well. That is..."
"Hmm?"
"Lady Aln asked me to deliver something to you, Your Highness."
Arthur blinked at the rabbit-eared headband Joy held out to him.
"What is this?"
"A headband."
"I can see that. What I asked was... don't tell me this is the penalty Lucy Aln spoke of."
"Yes. She said you're to wear it continuously until this trip is over."
"Insane."
The curse slipped out of Arthur before he could stop it, but no amount of cursing would make the headband before him disappear.
After staring at the thing in silence for a long while, he let out a deep sigh, accepted it, and put it on.
At which point Joy frantically produced a fan and covered her mouth — but the fan only blocked his view of her face; it did nothing to stop the sound of her laughter.
"Just laugh openly instead."
"Ah... pfft. No, I couldn't possibly dare, in front of someone as dig— dig— pffhaha— hngh."
Face burning red, Arthur was about to say something to Joy when he spotted Frey standing beyond the open door.
"So you're into that, Your Highness. I mean, sure. Whatever works."
"That is NOT what this is! Frey! This is—!"
"It looks fine on you."
Frey said this with a perfectly blank face and walked down the corridor as if nothing had happened. Frozen for an instant by the unexpected response, Arthur shoved past Joy and hurried after her.
"Wait! Grant me a chance to explain! Please! Let me protect my honor!"
Having sent Joy off to deliver Arthur's penalty, I hit the night streets alongside Karia — who had shed her disguise — and Karl, who was handling my escort.
The Archipelago's evenings were tremendously rowdy. People who'd drowned their hardships in liquor until they lost all reason shrieked at random. The sound of brawls drifted in from somewhere, and the sound of someone heaving up their guts from somewhere else. It wasn't so different from the college district I'd seen back before I ever set foot in this world.
The adventurers who looked like veterans of the place shook their heads at the rabble-rousers but made no move to stop them. Probably because they knew that offering advice to drunken messes was a good way to wear themselves out for nothing.
The woman I'd come to meet was among those watching the fist-swinging men with disdain.
"Heishan. Been waiting long?"
At Karia's greeting as she dragged a chair over, the woman called Heishan gave a shrug.
"Not at all. I only just arrived myself."
"Good to hear. Now then — this is my employer. The one who wanted to meet you. Your name is... well, I suppose I don't even need to say it."
As Heishan got a proper look at me, her expression flooded with shock. Nobody had briefed her on anything, but I could guess exactly why she was making that face. She'd heard of Lucy Aln's infamous reputation, no doubt.
This sort of thing was hardly a once-in-a-while occurrence, so instead of making excuses, I folded my arms as Karl pulled out a chair for me and let out a long sigh.
I'm Lucy Aln.
"You know who I am and you still can't manage your own expressions? Ignorant and rude, just like the commoner rabble."
"Ah! I— that is— my apologies, Lady Aln. I am called Heishan. An adventurer — I reached A-rank a few months ago."
Having recovered her composure belatedly, Heishan delivered a greeting so polished it was hard to believe she was a commoner-born adventurer.
Anyone who didn't know better would have raised their eyebrows in admiration of her refinement — but not me. She couldn't have become friends with the Second Queen, back then the young lady of a ducal house, if she hadn't been.
"I was told a noble wished to meet with me, but I never imagined it would be the young lady of House Aln, whose name is on everyone's lips these days. I was so startled I momentarily lost my words."
At the sight of Heishan's awkward smile, I returned one of my own. The intent was to put her at ease, but judging by how stiff the corners of my mouth felt, it had only backfired. The smile the Mesugaki Skill forces onto my face is, admittedly, a little murderous.
"Um. If I may ask, Lady Aln — why would someone like you come to meet a completely unremarkable adventurer like me?"
Because a friend of yours has been looking for you.
"Turns out even a scrub of a commoner can be a decent person, huh? I mean, some old freak still wants to see you, apparently."
"...An old freak?"
When Heishan tilted her head in obvious confusion, Karia beside her let out a groan.
"Employer, I'll handle the details, so please just sit there and be quiet."
Yeah. Thinking it over myself, that really did seem like the better arrangement.