The Fearsome Heroine (1)
――She had a nightmare again.
It was a scene she'd witnessed countless times now, too many to count. The horrific, gruesome sight from that day haunted her dreams, leaving her in a foul mood from the moment she woke.
"……Tch…."
She shoved aside the rumpled blankets with a rustle and slid out of bed. No longer the child from her dreams, but the adult heroine, Emilia Edenberts.
After a thorough wash in the bathroom, Emilia emerged stark naked as was her habit and headed into the living room. She'd dried every drop of water from her fresh, glowing skin, taking extra care with her long, lustrous golden hair that sparkled like spun sunlight. Her father had always praised it, saying it took after her mother's beauty.
Emilia wasn't one to fuss much over her looks, but she wanted to preserve every feature that proved she was her mother's daughter. From her perspective, it might not be the wisest choice… but with no proper graves for her parents, no photos, and scarcely any mementos left behind, her own reflection—growing ever more like her mother—was one of the few ways she could keep their memory alive.
She studied that reflection closely: the mirror showed a body that, day by day, mirrored her mother's grace. Blue eyes inherited from her father. Golden hair and delicate features from her mother. A perfectly balanced figure she found quite alluring herself. Though compared to her memories of her mother, her feminine curves were just a touch understated.
"…My boobs feel a bit… bigger…."
Draping the towel over her neck, she cupped and lifted her chest, now heavy with a weight all its own. They overflowed even her single grasp, yet retained their firm, resilient shape without a hint of sag. Already cumbersome during activity, if she kept developing like her mother, they'd grow even larger still.
…No… I heard Mother's weren't that big when she was young… They grew after having me….
Some women did see their breasts enlarge with pregnancy, or so she'd heard. If Emilia stayed single forever, maybe they'd stabilize at this size.
――Marriage. The word, once sweet and peaceful, now felt impossibly distant. Emilia gave a wry smile to her mirror image.
Enough of that. Now wasn't the time.
…Still, a bit more muscle wouldn't hurt. But thanks to the Hero's Blessing and Hero's Body ingrained in her, no amount of training or exertion could sculpt her into the ripped warrior she envisioned. Mimicking her father's physique might be impossible for life. At least resembling her mother was some small comfort.
Creak! She flung open the weathered wooden door and strode inside.
At a glance, it could pass for a tavern, but this was the Adventurer Guild, hub for managing adventurers and doling out quests. It doubled as a bar, so the air carried whiffs of food and booze from every corner.
Her first visit had felt clean and lively, but even with good upkeep, years of rough adventurers had worn the place down. Still, word was they were building a bigger, better headquarters, which sparked a flicker of excitement.
"Hey, Platinum's here?"
"……."
Platinum was Emilia's moniker. Since she never shared her name or gender, the veterans just called her by her rank. To explain: it started at Bronze, climbing step by step to the pinnacle, Platinum.
Emilia nodded her hooded head in response to the recognizing adventurer, saying nothing. She'd learned the hard way that revealing she was a woman invited disdain. Hence the oversized hood cloaking her body and the stuffy mask over her face.
Adventurers often had secrets they preferred untouched, so no one pried into such heavy concealment—provided you had skill and connections, that is.
At twelve years old, her youthful look had drawn constant challenges when she first stepped into the guild; it had been utterly exhausting.
"……."
Peering through her mask at the crowded lobby, Emilia marched straight to the back. No one stopped her. Her destination was restricted to the guild master and Silver rank or higher—and as a Platinum adventurer, she had free access.
"Fruit wine! Fruit wine! The kind so cold it chills you to the bone!!"
"……Fuckin' brat…."
This exclusive lounge for Platinum adventurers boasted soundproofing and every amenity. In its center, Emilia—mask and hood discarded—slammed her boot on the iron desk, urging him on.
Her childish antics were a far cry from the stoic Platinum demeanor of moments ago. The guild master sighed and opened the freezer with a grunt.
It was a magic device. In this empire, where magical tools had surged in quality over the past decade, such gadgets kept contents cool even in midsummer heat—and money made them easy to acquire.
"Hey! I'm the guild master, not your damn servant!"
"Shut it. Terry, you know how much you owe me?"
"……Shit, fine."
At Emilia's sharp retort, the bald, tattooed man—Terry—sighed again and poured icy fruit wine into a glass. He even plated some grapes with ice, suggesting he didn't truly mind serving her.
As she beamed and praised him, he asked, "Last wyvern subjugation's reward came in. How d'you want it?"
"Huh~? Just deposit it like always."
"No need for monster parts or anything?"
"Nah, pass. Sell 'em off yourself."
"Wyvern materials could make a fine sword or armor… Ah, right. You wouldn't need it."
Terry eyed the crude scabbard at her side as she tapped it. He scratched his bald pate—half-covered in fierce tattoos that filled any empty feel—and shrugged it off.
Her sword was the Holy Sword—the chosen Hero's Sword. Even top-tier dragon bone couldn't forge a rival.
Armor might suit her, but she always refused heavy gear. If she didn't want the materials, he'd just convert them to extra cash.
He handed over two receipts: one for the reward, one for the materials. Emilia skimmed them without real scrutiny, stuffing one into her pouch and sliding the other back.
Her eyes—sparkling with childlike glee over the wine—now turned cold, sending a chill down even Terry's battle-hardened spine. Dark hatred and murder lurked in those blue depths.
"……This is for the next scouting funds. Handle it. Keep the change."
"Got it."
"And fill me in on progress. I wanna know where we stand."
Though she was twenty years his junior, her piercing aura overwhelmed him. Terry plopped down opposite her.
What followed couldn't reach outsiders' ears.
――For revenge.
――The scum who killed her parents, the ones who had to die.
Emilia's heart still burned with embers of hate. Blessed with the Hero's Blessing, the hero's title, the hero's class, destined to live as one… yet she scraped by as a rough adventurer.
All for revenge. To repay those hateful enemies from that day.
She'd cast aside the hero's blessed path, sweet dreams of marriage—everything—for the vengeful ghost raging within.
――The talk wrapped up.
Per Terry, they were closing in on the enemy's tail—but beyond confirming a noble was involved, intel remained thin.
A noble… huh.
She'd suspected as much, but hearing it outright hit different. Her father wasn't the type to earn widespread grudge, but the Edenberts hero lineage bred its share of haters.
Living incognito as an adventurer meant little noble contact, so details escaped her…
Leave the digging to Terry.All I can do now is wait.
Striding through the lobby, someone suddenly barked, "Hey, you!"
"……?"
Rudely, without permission, a hand clamped her exposed arm beneath the hood.