Dresses of Promise and a Shadow's Call
"Damn it! How much longer do we have to hold the line?!"
"Hahk! Hahh…!"
While the special unit pushed into the cemetery, those left outside were locked in a desperate fight of their own.
Intelligent beings could resist for a time, but plants and animals that underwent even a single Unity were instantly reborn as thralls of the Unity God. That was why the battlefield seethed with abominations—beasts fused into single writhing masses—and why the surrounding trees stretched their limbs like spears, lashing out at anything that moved.
"Kuaaaaah!"
A tank that had spent its last shell charged forward, trying to crush the monsters under its treads. Twisted limbs and extra heads clung to the beasts; they heaved the vehicle over with raw strength and came barreling straight at the mercenaries.
Papapapapang!
Riflemen behind the line punched holes through the first wave, yet more creatures of the same bulk came pouring in.
"I… I can't… hold any longer…!"
Mercenaries and regular soldiers alike had burned every last scrap of stamina. Half the mercenary company had already been absorbed into the monsters; despair hung thick in the air. The word surrender was forming on every tongue when—
Paaaaaah—
The stifling air turned suddenly pure and cool. The fused animals began to melt where they stood.
"Kiiiek!"
"Keong!"
The laws of the native gods, unable to tolerate even a trace of an Outer God, reasserted dominion over the land and erased every existence that had slipped beyond their reach. The trees that had been trying to merge likewise froze mid-motion and rotted at terrifying speed. The rotting wood would become fertilizer for a new forest; once the kingdom hired a nature-aligned cleric or a druid, the hunting grounds could be restored in short order.
"Th-this is…"
"We won! We actually won!"
"We're alive!"
"Fuck yes—we're aliiive!"
The survivors collapsed where they stood and roared their triumph.
"Khuh! Jon, you bastard!"
"Not even a body left to bury…!"
Those who had been forcibly absorbed shared the same fate; nothing remained of them. Friends of the victims could only choke on helpless rage. Still, victory was victory, and the cheers rose louder than the grief.
One day later.
Civil war, undead outbreaks, and finally cultists who served Outer Gods—Halrot Kingdom had weathered disaster after disaster and emerged intact. The royal family therefore decided to hold a victory banquet inside the palace. The undead problem was not yet fully solved, but the true audience was not the common folk; it was the nobles who ruled them. The court needed to prove it still stood strong.
Naturally the heroes of the special unit and the holy knights of the benevolent gods were meant to be the stars of the evening. The mercenaries who had taken the commission, along with the holy knights of the malevolent gods, had already received generous pay and either left or seized the nearest tavern to drink themselves senseless.
Yet four irregulars received formal invitations: Lillian, Priscilla, Kaisent, and Noriyoshi.
Noriyoshi had drawn the founding king's sword, so the court had every reason to court him. The other three, however, were mere mercenaries—an odd choice at first glance. Dig only a little deeper and the logic became obvious. The civil war had killed or crippled most of the old powerhouses; Halrot desperately needed new strength. Lillian and Priscilla, both already at the Master rank, were prizes the kingdom could not ignore. Kaisent, a mage who had also fought as a magic archer and saved the allied lines more than once, had been personally recommended by the Knight Captain as someone who must be recruited.
"…That's what they said. What do we do?"
"Nngh…"
Lillian had planned to collect her reward and leave for another country. The royal invitation left her groaning in pure distress. Accepting meant removing her helmet; removing her helmet meant her carefully hidden identity would be exposed.
"Should we just run?"
"You're joking, right?"
Priscilla stared at her as if she had lost her mind. The royal house itself had issued the invitation and even enclosed a free voucher for a high-end dress shop. Refusing and fleeing would be treated as lese-majesty; pursuit would be inevitable.
"Wait—does that mean I have to wear a dress too?!"
Priscilla realized a beat late that she would be expected to appear in a ball gown and let out a strangled scream.
"…Should we just run?"
In the end she could only parrot the very line she had scolded Lillian for.
"If I warp my face with magic… no. Men's clothes would still show my figure."
"I have to put on a women's dress…? What am I supposed to do…?"
They racked their brains for any way out, yet the universal etiquette of royal banquets was absolute: women wore women's gowns, men wore men's formalwear. A slender frame might have been disguised, but their long, full curves—especially their chests—left no room for deception.
"The important thing is that Lillian's identity must not be discovered, correct?"
"Yes. Ten years have passed, but most of the nobility will be there. Someone who knows my face is bound to appear."
"Then I think I can handle that part."
"Really?"
"Show me your face for a moment."
Kaisent faced Lillian, poured holy power into her features, and began reshaping them with fierce will. "My family possesses a technique called Reverse Appearance Art that can alter one's looks. I never learned it, but with sacred power…"
Jawline, facial structure, eyes, nose, mouth—everything shifted. The pure, elegant beauty Lillian had possessed softened into something cute and round-cheeked. It was still recognizably her, yet the change from cool beauty to adorable beauty was more than enough.
"Wow… it is different, but isn't it too cute?"
"That gives us an excuse. 'She's a woman with such a cute face that she couldn't project a captain's dignity, so she cross-dressed and hid her features.'"
"Mmm… couldn't you just make my whole body look male?"
"My sacred power isn't strong enough for that. If I could store it up and release it later it might be possible, but holy power doesn't work that way."
"Ugh…"
Even though her identity could now be concealed, Lillian still looked faintly dissatisfied.
"Don't worry."
Sensing the subtle anxiety beneath her expression, Kaisent took her hand. "Even if your identity is exposed, I'll do whatever it takes to make sure the thing you fear never happens."
"…Thank you."
He's grown strong enough to say he'll protect me and actually sound reliable…
Once he had forced the words out with desperate courage; now he spoke them with quiet composure. He was still a small, slender boy whose androgynous looks held not a single trace of rugged strength, yet standing before him felt like being sheltered by a mountain.
"The banquet is a week away, but let's go buy the clothes right now."
"Hm?"
"Eh?"
Having solved Lillian's problem, Kaisent seized both women's hands and began tugging them toward the dress shop with uncharacteristic eagerness. Until now he had never shown greed for material things; Lillian found the sudden insistence strange.
"We still have time, don't we?"
"That's exactly why. My mother once told me she wore a dress for her wedding."
"……. Ah……♡"
"……. Nngh……♥"
The two women tilted their heads in confusion, then flushed scarlet as the meaning sank in. Kaisent was proposing that, while they were buying dresses, they hold a private wedding of their own.
"Hurry~ Let's go already~"
"W-wait a second♡"
"S-stop……"
They tried to resist, yet two Masters could not overpower one small boy. Their bodies, already conquered by him, simply refused to fight back.
"All right! All right already! Just let me put the helmet back on first!"
"Yay!"
Kaisent cheered at Lillian's surrender.
"Ah—I'll return your face to normal for now."
"Why?"
"Because I want the dress that suits Lillian's real face best. I'll change it again right before we leave for the palace. Priscilla, that's fine with you too, right?"
Priscilla understood that if she let herself be dragged along she would become Kaisent's wife. The moment the image of herself in a wedding dress standing beside him flashed through her mind—
Throb!
—her womb clenched with a happiness she had never known.
I… become this child's wife… No. If I accept any more of this, the man I once was will be gone forever.
Yet the thought of living as Kaisent's wives together with Lillian no longer seemed bad. At least they would never have to fight each other as rivals for him.
Hah?! Did I just think that without even realizing…?
She felt not the slightest rejection at the idea of sharing one man with Lillian. On the contrary, merely imagining it filled her with warmth.
"Priscilla."
"Hm? Hahp—!"
Chuuuup— chup— churup—
While she was still lost in thought, Kaisent seized the nape of her neck, pulled her down, and kissed her hard.
"Let's go buy dresses."
"Y-yes… yeshhh……♥"
He thoroughly toyed with her tongue while speaking; the pleasure melted her brain, and she answered in polite, submissive speech without thinking.
Having secured their "consent," Kaisent told the other mercenaries they were going to buy formalwear for the banquet and led the two women outside. Following the map enclosed with the invitation, they arrived at an elegant clothing shop guarded by sentries—whether because of the recent turmoil or simply because the establishment was always so exclusive.
"You lot look like—"
"Quiet. Check this."
"…My apologies. Please enjoy your shopping."
Lillian produced the royal voucher. The moment the guards saw the Halrot royal seal they hurriedly signaled inside and bowed low. The three of them explained they had come for dresses for the upcoming banquet.
"Ooooh…!"
"Ah… uh… waaah…"
Lillian removed the Wolf helmet and revealed herself fully as a woman. Priscilla, cursed into a face designed to entrance men, stood beside her. Kaisent, with his androgynous charm, pure-white hair and eyes, radiated an almost otherworldly allure. The shop attendants, trained to shower nobles with polished compliments, could only stare with dazed eyes and let out wordless sighs of admiration. When they took measurements and confirmed the three figures, the tailors nearly wept with joy at the honor of dressing such treasures.
"Ready-made pieces that fit our sizes would be—"
"The royal banquet is only a week away. We will craft your formalwear within that time!"
"No, really, you don't have to—"
"It is perfectly fine!"
"The royal house is covering the cost, after all!"
"Please allow us to make them!"
"W-well… if you insist…"
Lillian could not withstand the tailors' fervor and agreed to custom gowns. Finally the three of them stood before a magic camera so the craftsmen could work more easily. At first Lillian worried the photographs might somehow reach the palace, then decided no royal or noble would bother hunting them down and relaxed.
"When the garments are finished we will send someone to the Wolf Mercenary Group."
"We'll need time to get used to wearing dresses, though."
"With several of us working, one or two days will be enough."
Skilled tailors and magical tools for cutting meant a custom dress no longer took long.
"Tch. I wanted to see the two of you in dresses right away."
"Hehehe. Still, custom-made gowns just for us are far better, don't you think?"
"That's true."
—Do not react even if you hear my voice.—
"!?"
Just as Kaisent was considering turning the outing into a proper date, a voice aimed precisely at him slid into his mind—a voice thick with sticky, nauseating killing intent.
—I wish to speak with you alone. Refuse, and the Wolf Mercenary Group will be slaughtered.—
"!!"
What do I do?
The sudden threat jolted him, yet he recovered his composure at once and began calculating. He still possessed one final card he had told no one about: teleportation. If he teleported straight to the inn where the company was staying—
No. I don't know how many enemies there are. My comrades aren't ready for a fight. And just from the voice alone I can tell this is no ordinary opponent!
—If you understand, blink once.—
Blink.
—Good. I like that obedient attitude. Cooperate and no one dies. I will tell you the meeting place.—
Deciding he had no choice but to play along for now, Kaisent memorized the location the voice provided.
—If you are not alone, my subordinates will deal with the Wolf Mercenary Group.—
With that final warning the sticky, repulsive killing intent vanished.
"Kaisent?"
"…Lillian. Priscilla."
The two women saw the boy who had been as carefree as a child only moments earlier now wearing a rigid expression. When he explained what had happened, they went pale with shock.
"Who the hell is it?"
"I don't know…"
"You don't have to give in to some unknown piece of trash's threats."
"But it wasn't a joke. That voice… of every voice I've ever heard, it carried the most terrible aura."
Coming from Kaisent, who had already grown used to battle, the fear in his words meant the danger was real.
"Even so. Even if my subordinates end up hating me for it—I will never send you alone."
Lillian could no longer imagine a life without Kaisent. Between the mercenary company she had built with years of shared blood and the small, beloved husband standing before her, she chose him without hesitation.
"No. Both of you return to the company first."
"I refuse. I never want to lose you."
"I never found the right moment to say it, but I've learned teleportation magic."
"!!"
"I'm not going out there on pure self-sacrifice with no plan."
"……"
They still hated the idea of letting him go alone, yet if he possessed teleportation, following him would only become a liability.
"You… have to come back safely."
"Yes. No matter what happens, I will return."
Left behind, the two women burned with sudden, helpless fury. If Kaisent received so much as a single scratch, they were ready to throw their lives away to butcher the one who had schemed against him—and everyone standing behind that person.
…Ah.
While she seethed beside Lillian, Priscilla finally understood something.
This… this is what my heart has been feeling all along…
She finally knew exactly how she felt about Kaisent.