The Showdown with Arthur (5)
"The little ones sure do like you, don't they."
There was quite a crowd gathered near the entrance to the dungeon. A few of them were there to enter it themselves, but most seemed to have come to watch my duel with Arthur.
I mean, come on. No way kids planning to enter a dungeon would just stand around empty-handed and spectate.
'I wonder how many of them are hoping I win.'
"As if there'd be any."
'Grandpa.'
This is exactly the kind of moment when you're supposed to say something hopeful, you know. A holy knight and legendary hero shouldn't be spouting such pessimistic nonsense.
Then again, I also figured there'd be nobody... but you never know, right?
"Ah. Oh, there will be. Gamblers always have a few chasing the long shot instead of the odds."
So that's how it is. Is the spirit riding on my shoulder actually a congregation of long-shot degenerates?
Understood. In honor of your hopes, I'll put on a lovely show today of the favorites' money going up in flames.
Really is a shame there's no big river near Soul Academy. If there were a decent spot, I'd have turned it into a waterpark by tonight.
I headed for the dungeon entrance with Carl in tow and spotted the Sidekick Young Lady hovering nervously, glancing around at everyone, and Frey strolling up yawning her head off, carrying nothing but a single sword.
Well, that's everyone ready to enter the dungeon. All that's left is to wait for Arthur to show up.
"Lucy Aln."
Right on cue. How punctual of him.
'Hello there.'
"Good to see you, Pitiable Prince."
I deliberately didn't call him by name, and yet the title "Pitiable Prince" slipped out anyway. Why do you have to be so uselessly diligent, Mesugaki Skill?
Apparently Arthur had grown used to being called Pitiable Prince, because he only narrowed his eyes slightly and showed no further reaction.
"Confident you can win?"
'Can't say for sure, but I've prepared to the best of my ability.'
"I've prepared enough to beat the Pitiable Prince without even breaking a sweat."
By mesugaki skill standards, I'd say that was downright humble — but judging by Arthur's expressionless face, apparently not.
Ugh, fine. What was I thinking, being humble. If I'm going to explode in a burst of karma the moment I lose anyway, might as well pile that karma up to the heavens.
"Let's see just how far that arrogance of yours takes you."
'No one will be able to bring the Prince down, of course.'
"How very bold of you to say, when you lack the skill to crush arrogance. Wouldn't the arrogant one here be you, Pitiable Prince?"
"Tch."
Arthur clicked his tongue as if for the crowd's benefit, then changed the subject.
"Let's confirm the rules. We enter the dungeon at exactly 10 a.m. We come out at 8 p.m. Mid-course surrender is permitted, but it counts as a loss. The party clearing the dungeon is limited to three first-years; any upperclassmen or professors accompanying us will not interfere in any way. Victory goes to whichever side climbs higher within the time limit. Any objections?"
'No, none at all.'
"None."
"Then the match begins the moment it strikes the hour."
With that, he turned and walked off to join his party members.
Let's see. The lineup is just as I'd heard. Arthur. Jackal. Matthew.
Arthur and Matthew were solid, bread-and-butter characters in Soul Academy, and while Jackal got overshadowed by other top-tier picks, his stats were perfectly decent.
With a composition like that, they'd probably clear dungeons better than someone on their second playthrough, never mind a fresh newbie.
But then — who's the fourth person they're bringing along?
You need at least one upperclassman or professor to accompany a dungeon run. As I stood there tilting my head in puzzlement, a figure emerged from the crowd.
"Not too late, am I?"
Professor Luka of Combat Tactics. The madman who shoves his own students toward death, all in the name of completing his masterpiece.
Why is he here? No way.
Watched him move with a creeping sense of dread, and sure enough — Luka walked right up to Arthur.
Of all people, they chose him to lead the party?!
I thought it was insane, but everyone else reacted differently. People were nodding along, praising Arthur for choosing someone so capable.
Are these people in their right minds? How is dragging along a certified lunatic like Luka considered good judgment?
But then it hit me — none of them knew anything about Luka's true nature. People simply didn't yet realize how unhinged the man was. To the world, everything on the surface painted him as a talented young professor with a string of successful students to his name.
What do I do? Is there any way to chase him off right now?
Or else...
"Lucy. What's got you so worked up?"
Grandpa's voice pulled me back to reality.
Phew. Calm down.
Yes, the man is a lunatic — but he's a discerning lunatic. He wouldn't pull anything with this many eyes on him.
And even if he tried something, Arthur's party members are more than capable of handling him. No need to worry about them.
Right. Since when was I in any position to worry about them anyway? These days I can barely manage my own affairs.
'Frey...'
"Hey, scrub swordsman. Remember what I told you yesterday?"
"I'm not an idiot."
Frey puffed out her shoulders as she answered, but it was not the least bit convincing.
You'll follow my orders for the sake of the duel too, right? I'm counting on you?
My other party member, the Sidekick Young Lady, was so wound up with nerves that she couldn't stop fidgeting with her hands.
'Sidekick Young Lady...'
"Hey, Sidekick. What was your name again?"
"...You didn't even know?! It's Vishy. Vishy Bell."
Vishy, huh. Easy name to remember, I thought, nodding along — and Vishy was looking up at me with eyes full of expectation.
Don't tell me she wants me to call her by name?
Sorry. Believe me, I'd love to.
'Got it, Vishy.'
"Noted, Sidekick Young Lady. I'll commit it to memory."
The Mesugaki Skill simply refuses to call people by their names when it can help it.
Had being called Sidekick Young Lady yet again dashed her hopes? Vishy's shoulders sagged.
Sorry about that. But hey, at least it relaxed you, didn't it?
"It is the hour, my lady."
As Carl announced the top of the hour, all chatter died away.
'Understood, everyone. Let's go.'
"Got it. Alright, scrubs. Let's move."
Well then — time to show off what a certified veteran can do, for the first time in ages.
The moment we crossed the dungeon's threshold, the scenery shifted. A cavern with glowing stones set into the walls here and there.
How many months had it been since I last saw this? Back when I played it as a game, I saw this view practically every day.
Seeing the lumistones embedded like that told me exactly which starting point this was. Good — the map was already drawing itself in my head.
'Like I told you all yesterday...'
"Scrubs. I said this yesterday, but I'll say it once more. Aside from breaking through the boss room, we are not fighting. At all."
Because this is a speedrun duel, obviously?
The golden rule of speedrunning: dodge every single event you possibly can.
When Vishy first heard Lucy Aln's strategy, her honest thought was: has this girl lost her mind?
Clear a dungeon by avoiding every single battle? There was simply no way that could work.
Clearing a dungeon meant fighting the monsters that spawned at random along the way, pushing past traps, and feeling your way forward one step at a time. It wasn't a place where you could just opt out of fighting because you didn't feel like it.
The reason Vishy, harboring such doubts, ended up convinced anyway came down to the example Lucy Aln had rattled off.
'Enter the first floor, turn the first corner, and two scrub goblins come jumping out...'
Lucy Aln explained, with unnerving calm, exactly how the dungeon would unfold — like a man surveying every piece on a chessboard. First floor. Second. Third. All the way up to the tenth.
She laid out precisely how they could climb the whole way without a single battle. Her words were as detailed as a script written by a playwright; even Vishy, who had never once set foot in the Academy's dungeon, could picture it all perfectly in her mind.
'Do you really believe everything you just said will happen?'
After the full explanation, Vishy had asked her that — and Lucy Aln had answered with a laugh of pure disdain.
'Obviously. Unlike a scrub like you, I happen to be beloved by God.'
It was the kind of grin that would have irritated her on any normal day, and yet somehow, it looked dependable.
If some random nobody had delivered that speech, Vishy would have written it off as delusion. But this was the girl who had taken first place outright in the Academy entrance exams.
What if Lucy's perfect score on the dungeon exam hadn't been the Academy bending over backward for her — but simply the product of something she herself possessed?
The moment that thought took root, Vishy resolved to trust her.
And so, today. The stage where Lucy's plan would prove itself true or false.
Astoundingly, the dungeon was unfolding exactly as Lucy Aln had described.
"Two scrub goblins around the corner..."
Two goblins appeared. Lucy Aln charged in shield-first, bowled them over, bypassed the fight entirely, and bolted onward.
"There's a trap some idiot set up if we go right..."
There really was a trap there. Lucy Aln used it to wipe out the goblin pack blocking the path and pressed forward.
"Keep going and there'll be one smelly pig up ahead — don't chicken out like a scrub..."
Sure enough, a single orc stood blocking the way. But its movements were sluggish, and it failed to lay a hand on the group sprinting headlong past.
Everything. Every single thing happening inside the dungeon was playing out precisely as Lucy Aln had said it would.
The paths of the dungeon. The monsters it spawned. The traps. Not one of those variables escaped her control.
"Scrubs. You tired already?"
The time it had taken to clear the first floor of the Academy dungeon: a mere ten minutes.
And that was without even sprinting full-out — they'd jogged along at a leisurely clip hauling Vishy around like baggage.
Vishy panted for breath and lifted her head to look at the stairs leading up to the next floor.
The forced march Lucy Aln had planned was, frankly, a bit cruel for a necromancer like her.
And we have to keep this up until 8 p.m.? Can I... actually survive this?
"Hmm. This won't do after all."
Lucy Aln eyed Vishy with visible displeasure, then stepped around to stand in front of her.
"Sidekick."
"Yes?"
"Scrub stamina, scrub legs. How on earth did you pass the Academy entrance exam? You look dumb, but are you secretly smart or something?"
Vishy bowed her head under Lucy's scolding.
Fine, it was true — I was dead weight the whole first floor. If those two had kept their natural pace, we'd have gotten here far faster.
But you're the one who dragged me in because you were short a person! I never signed up for this in the first place!
Vishy grumbled internally, though on the outside all she did was tremble. When the relationship between two people had a clear top and bottom, there was nothing to be done about it.
Well. So be it. I'll run until my lungs burst.
"Hop on."
Vishy's head snapped up, flustered by the completely unexpected words. Lucy regarded her with an expression of profound pity, then repeated herself.
"Sidekick. Are your ears scrubs too? Hop on."
"Huh? But—"
"Haaah."
Letting out a long sigh, Lucy strode up to Vishy, gripped her by the waist, and hoisted her onto her back like a pack of luggage.
"We're going like this. Got a problem with that, Sidekick?"
"...No. No, my lady."
Rather than risk provoking another round of venom by adding so much as one more word, Vishy simply nodded and held on tight.