The Dimensional Warehouse
Kaisent explained everything he could about Lilith to the startled Lillian and Priscilla.
In the process he learned that Lilith had been the very archer who had loosed mana arrows up to the second floor while fighting on the cultists’ side.
Fortunately, the fact that she had later fought alongside the Unity God was known only to those who had reached the third stratum. So they agreed to tell the rank-and-file mercenaries that they had simply hired a chance-met half-elf on the roadside.
He also showed them how vastly the dimensional warehouse had expanded. At this size, he decided, they could put it to whatever use they wished.
“It’s huge!”
“A space this wide…!”
Lillian and Priscilla stepped inside themselves and felt the sheer scale with their own bodies.
—A pleasure to meet you. I am Skynet, an existence created to assist the young master in every possible way.—
Until now they had only known such a being existed; this was their first actual conversation. They greeted her properly.
“May we simply call you Skynet?”
—Of course. As the young master’s wives, you may speak as freely as you like.—
“Ah… wives…♡”
“That title is still a little…♥”
When Skynet—who had watched over Kaisent since childhood—formally acknowledged their relationship, Lillian and Priscilla squirmed with shy embarrassment.
“Are you embarrassed that you married me…?”
Seeing his wives blush, Kaisent’s face crumpled as though he might burst into tears at any second.
“N-no!”
“We’re not embarrassed!”
“Yes! It’s just… hearing it from a third party instead of among ourselves still feels unfamiliar!”
Their frantic excuses seemed to work; Kaisent’s expression brightened a little.
“Then kiss me.”
“Hm?”
“Eh?”
“We’re going to reveal our relationship to everyone eventually anyway. So kiss me.”
The silent pressure that he would sulk properly if they refused in front of Skynet made both women drop to their knees so their heights matched his.
“Th-then me first…♡”
“No. Both of you at once. Stick out your tongues.”
“Ehh—♥”
Kaisent adjusted their faces so that three tongues met in one place, then swallowed both adult women’s tongues at the same time.
Slurp— smooch— churrrp— schlick—
“Mmngh♥ mm♥ uuuungh♥”
“Haaah♡ haum♡”
‘He really is just like a child at times like this♡’
‘Wanting to kiss both of us at once… what a greedy boy♥’
They had been bashful at first, yet once the kiss began the three tongues tangled together until the sight resembled the mating of snakes.
Only when Kaisent finally pulled away did the kiss end, leaving long, sticky threads of clear saliva stretching between all three tongues.
“Haa♥ haah♥”
“Huff♡ huff♡”
That snake-like, lewd kiss had left Lillian and Priscilla—already hypersensitive to Kaisent’s touch—flushed and panting hard.
“I’ll take care of the rest later.”
“Yeees♥”
“I’ll be waiting, darling♡”
One kiss had transformed them from women into wives. They ignored Skynet’s gaze entirely, already eager to learn how he would make them cry out next.
‘As expected of the young master who inherited the master’s blood so strongly. To conquer women who look larger and stronger than himself…’
Skynet watched with her own eyes the thick inheritance of his father’s blood and smiled in satisfaction.
—Heh. This is the hottest moment of all.—
“Ah…♡”
“Nn…♥”
—Please continue to take good care of the young master.—
Kissing in front of a being who thought and acted like a person somehow erased any remaining sense of rejection, even though she was not human.
—In any case, once you have the young master’s permission, all of you may freely use this warehouse. I cannot yet manage the entire space, but given sufficient resources I can handle everything from storage to weapon factories.—
“That is… remarkable. Lillian, if we borrow the power of this place, reclaiming the kingdom may not be impossible.”
Seeing the warehouse’s potential with her own eyes filled Priscilla with real hope of restoring the kingdom.
Until now their goal had been pure revenge, because even if they destroyed the Saryeong Kingdom they would still lack the strength to seize the throne.
But here they could forge weapons and grow food. Moreover, time inside could be accelerated or slowed by a factor of ten. If they brought in soil and turned the space into farmland, simple arithmetic said they could harvest ten times the crops of the outside world.
“If we bring soil from outside and make fields, can you manage them?”
—Yes.—
“Can you mass-produce weapons?”
—Yes. Provided the resources are sufficient.—
Gathering people to form an army was surprisingly easy. The truly difficult part was sustaining them.
Everyone knew an army was a pure consumer, not a producer.
Yet with Kaisent alone, the basic conditions for maintaining an army could be met.
Without him, even if weapons could be bought, food would still require self-sufficiency—meaning they would have to seize land and farm it by force. Society had already agreed to call such people “rebels” or “outlaws.”
‘If any of my people still live under the Saryeong Kingdom… if we produce weapons and food in this dimensional warehouse…!’
As the last royal of Luciarkenel she could reclaim the kingdom and gain the strength to withstand foreign pressure.
The moment that thought formed, Lillian’s racing mind ground to a halt with a screech of realization.
‘But… what if the people no longer recognize me…?’
Ten years had passed since they fled the Saryeong Kingdom. What if, in those ten years, the people had cursed and abandoned the royal family?
The bright hope that had just kindled began to darken and twist.
“Lillian. We’re still not in a position to use this space properly. For now let’s focus on what’s right in front of us.”
“Ah… y-yes.”
Priscilla, who had spent so long at her side, sensed something wrong and cut the spiral of thoughts at exactly the right moment. A little later and that anguish would have taken root in her chest and tormented her endlessly.
“We can’t make use of this space yet. Once we have more resources we’ll return.”
—Understood. The dimensional warehouse can be used whenever you wish. Please do not let yourselves grow impatient.—
The party exchanged final greetings with Skynet and stepped back out of the warehouse.
The most luxurious room of the inn spread before them. Lillian sat on the edge of the bed and let out a long breath.
“Lillian. Are you all right?”
“I’m fine.”
She stroked the head of Kaisent, who had come scampering over in worry. The silky, pleasantly fluffy feel of his hair, and the way he smiled under her touch, chased the dark worries away.
‘That’s right. Until I met this child, revenge was my only option. Now that another path has appeared, am I already fretting? When was I ever allowed such luxury?’
All her anguish vanished thanks to Kaisent. She smiled and pulled him into a tight hug.
“Ah? Lillian?”
“Thank you. I’m so glad you’re here.”
“W-wait a second. If you suddenly do that…”
“Heh. After making us cry so hard, now you’re the one getting shy.”
Priscilla had been robbed of her role as Lillian’s sole support, yet because her lover now served the same man she felt no jealousy at all.
While Kaisent was being smothered in the affection of two beautiful women, a mercenary knocked on the door from outside.
“Captain! You in there?”
“!?”
“Helmet! Helmet!”
Everyone jumped at the sudden interruption and scrambled to jam the helmet onto Lillian’s head.
“What is it?”
“Someone from the Halot royal family is here! Says they want an important talk with the captain!”
“Understood! Tell them to wait a moment—no, tell them I’m coming out right now!”
Even if the same amount of time was spent, the difference between a mere mercenary telling a royal messenger “please wait” and “I’m coming at once” was enormous.
“What now? I already told them I know noble etiquette.”
Lillian hurriedly donned her armor with everyone’s help, tilting her head in puzzlement.
Right after receiving the party invitation, a tutor had arrived from the royal family to teach etiquette. Unwilling to waste her happy days with Kaisent on such things, she had simply claimed she already knew noble manners and sent the tutor away.
Yet another royal messenger had come?
‘They must have something important to convey.’
Once fully armored, Lillian returned as “Wolf” and received the royal messenger.
The messenger requested a private audience in a quiet place.
And so Lillian found herself standing at the greatest turning point of her life.
The twin suns were sinking beyond the horizon, dyeing the world orange.
Along the main avenues used by carriages, guards maintained strict order while lavishly decorated coaches streamed toward the palace.
In the open plaza large enough to hold countless carriages, nobles who had just alighted were busy blooming with conversation.
“Ah, Viscount Dilzer. It’s been too long.”
“Count Trilow. I trust you have been well.”
“My, that necklace?”
“Hoho, the merchant guild recommended something fine this time.”
Outside, all sorts of troubles were raging, yet here the place was so packed with nobles in extravagant jewelry and dress that one might wonder whether any of those troubles truly existed.
The oddity was how completely their clothing diverged from the era and civilization level of this world. Before the appearance of other races they had worn brightly colored garments; now, having absorbed many cultures, they wore party attire close to that of a modern age.
One after another the nobles presented their invitations and entered the palace.
Guided along corridors of fine marble into the party garden, they heard:
“Entering now—eldest son of Viscount Tariden Belson of Debed, and by rightful royal authority the new lord of Chelisnel, Viscount Luarn Belson!”
A servant holding a long scroll at the garden entrance announced each arrival, giving everyone fresh faces to gossip about.
“I heard he rendered great service in the recent civil war.”
“They say he’ll even rise to count after receiving the territory of Chelisnel.”
The noble who had become the center of so much talk accepted many greetings and settled into a corner of the garden decorated with beautiful lights and ornaments.
More nobles continued to appear.
The reason nobles from distant territories could arrive at such precise times was the teleportation facilities installed in each domain.
Normally such parties set long dates because travel was difficult, yet the advance of technology and magic brought by other races had shortened preparation periods until everyone could attend. The cost was high, of course, but failing to install a teleport facility and missing a party like this would make one a laughingstock—so some nobles even went into debt to build them.
“Tsk. It’s about to become a circus.”
“Hm? What do you mean?”
“Haven’t you heard? The captain and vice-captain of the Wolf Mercenary Group who recently reached Master rank, plus their attached mage, are coming.”
“I have heard, yes.”
“Yet you remain so calm. Clearly you have no idea what happens when lowly mercenaries crash a noble party.”
One noble began an interesting topic; others gradually gathered to listen.
“I don’t recall exactly how many years ago, but a dangerous monster was rampaging through my territory. The beast, of all places, headed straight for my most prized vineyard.”
“Hoh. I’ve heard your vineyard produces the finest quality.”
“So I hastily hired a mercenary company to protect it. They proved more capable than expected and the vineyard survived intact.”
“Aha. And you held a commemorative party and invited the mercenary captain as well.”
Another noble neatly summarized the story; the speaker gave a bitter smile and shook his head.
“It was… hell. I could overlook their ignorance of etiquette, but the dust-clouded work clothes, the way they shoveled food and drink into their bellies as if merely filling stomachs, the drunken staggering that knocked tables over…”
“This is a royal party. Surely they wouldn’t be that crude?”
“The palace will have given them basic etiquette lessons beforehand.”
“If the story ended there I wouldn’t have brought it up. Astonishingly, they refused the etiquette instruction sent by the royal family. Claimed they already knew noble manners.”
“Haha. So they’ve seen and learned somewhere. But etiquette isn’t something one masters in a day or two.”
The noble’s tale ended there. Yet the atmosphere quickly spread that two ignorant mercenaries who knew nothing of noble etiquette, plus a half-breed mage from a world with entirely different common sense, were bound to cause some disaster.
“En… entering now—Captain Wolf of the Wolf Mercenary Group, Vice-Captain Priscilla, and affiliated mage Jin Resili Caisent.”
The same servant who moments earlier had introduced a noble with elegant sentences and refined vocabulary now announced the Wolf party in short, plain words.
“Tsk. Stuttering.”
“Poorly trained.”
The nobles frowned at the stammering servant. At a royal party where everything must be perfect, a servant’s slip of the tongue was not well received.
Then they understood why the servant had stammered.
“Ah…”
“Hoh…”
“That… what… uh…”
Lillian wore a tight black mermaid dress that traced her smooth hips and slender waist; a shoulder cape with silver ornaments let thin fabric flutter in the breeze, revealing glimpses of skin and radiating noble dignity.
Priscilla wore a passionate red slit dress that, set against the black, looked even more fiery; one leg was bare all the way to the hip, displaying her alluring figure.
And Kaisent, dressed in a simple black-and-white suit without a single ornament, yet possessing pure white hair that sparkled in the light and skin any woman would envy, carried an androgynous charm.
Had the servant not announced them, the three would have drawn a crowd of nobles eager to discover which house’s children they were—so elegant was their beauty.
The only possible flaw was that Lillian’s face, made cute by Kaisent, clashed a little with the dress’s atmosphere. Yet the lingering dignity of a princess made even that impossible to call a true shortcoming.