Chapter 34. The Road to Dominating the Great Mage (1)
Chapter 34. The Road to Dominating the Great Mage (1)
-Zzzzt!
A sharp ringing began to resonate in her ears from that moment.
At the same time, Ymir felt her consciousness blur; sensing imminent danger, she reflexively gathered her mana.
"What are you... that power..."
A familiar power.
It was unmistakably something she herself had handled not long before. Yes, because it possessed the same nature as what had been contained in the 'witch's blood' he had brought to her.
But even among the demonic races, that power should vary between individuals — so why did this power feel exactly identical?
'Dave... a witch...?'
No, that couldn't be right.
Even now, with that power spreading through her, when she considered everything he had shown her up to this point — the man who had stirred something as genuine as trust within her, of all people, could not possibly be a descendant of a witch's bloodline, a lineage thought extinct within human territory.
'But then, why...'
The moment that trust gave birth to a brief hesitation, the force suppressing her consciousness only grew stronger, and the physical backlash of the mana she had begun to direct toward him gradually subsided.
She had no way of knowing that every single thing he had shown her until now had been designed to buy a handful of seconds — the time she could have used to turn him into minced meat the instant she recognized his power.
"...So, did the hypnosis take hold properly?"
How much time had passed after that?
Even though his power had fully activated, Dave approached Ymir as though he still couldn't quite feel at ease.
His words and actions no longer carried any trace of the consideration or kindness he had shown before, but even as Ymir faced him, she failed to register that fact.
"Call me Master."
Even when he made an unreasonable demand of her, she no longer displayed the disgust she would have before.
"...Yes."
What finally left her lips were words.
"Yes, Master. Please, tell me what you desire."
Words revealing deference toward another person — words she would have sworn would never come out of her own mouth.
They might only be words spoken in a state of shattered reason, a mere formality, but for Dave, that seemed to be more than enough as a deep smile spread across his lips.
***
After I had thoroughly conquered the guild receptionist, Martina, I used the moment of our liaison as leverage and gained the opportunity to access information available only to Adventurer's Guild employees.
On the surface, it was understood that we'd loosened our tongues and gotten drunk together, which led to what happened — but even if it was a mistake or an accident, from her perspective, what had occurred that night was something she'd want to forget.
"...With this, whatever was between us ends."
"Yes, I understand. I've been feeling genuinely sorry about what happened yesterday myself. I'm fully aware that I behaved in a manner unbefitting toward you, Martina..."
"You're an adventurer too, so you'll stop by the guild a few times — we won't be able to avoid seeing each other entirely. But that will be purely as encounters between a clerk and an adventurer. If you try to dig in any deeper than that, I won't stay quiet about it either, so understand that clearly."
That was the end of my contact with her.
But having gotten what I wanted, I had no intention of pestering her any further either.
"...Lucky me. A dungeon related to witches just happened to become active."
What I had demanded of Martina was exceedingly simple: whether the guild's collected data contained any information about witches, and whether any adventurers were currently investigating or undertaking quests related to such matters.
In response, Martina informed me that a dungeon bearing Walpurgis insignia had recently been discovered, and that under current guild rules, the discoverers had been granted priority rights of conquest over the dungeon in question.
Considering the significant rewards that could be obtained from a dungeon, that was an exceptional benefit — granting a single party what was effectively a temporary monopoly.
Of course, if they didn't offer that much, no one would put any enthusiasm into dungeon excavation, so it made sense. In any case, if this was to be the first conquest of that dungeon, that actually worked out well from my perspective.
Being the first to clear a place no one else had occupied before carried a special significance all on its own.
In other words, for someone like me who only needed 'the pretense of investigating a witch-related site,' it would make controlling the situation far easier.
"So you're the porter the guild recommended?"
The leader of the party I'd temporarily joined for the sake of that pretense was a woman whose flashy attire and striking red twintails left an impression not at all typical of an adventurer.
Judging by the staff and the ornaments in her hair, she seemed to be a mage... Well, nothing strange about that.
Sure, mages are high-grade personnel, but it wasn't as if there were none at all among adventurers, and on top of that, if this party had the competence and the resources to excavate a dungeon, their overall level had to be at least upper-middle tier.
"Haah, looking at your work history, your only formal experience amounts to poking your head into artificial dungeons a few times."
And high rank naturally meant correspondingly high pride.
Since they wouldn't deign to handle menial tasks themselves, it was common for them to hire laborers like porters, but the way this female mage looked at me — the one who'd actually joined the party as that porter — was far from friendly.
"Well, still, isn't he fine? The documents the guild sent over say that among the parties this greenhorn belonged to, there was even an S-rank adventurer."
"S-rank or whatever, he's just a porter. I thought they'd send someone decent since we heard the S-rank name, but he turns out to be nothing but a laborer — Neris is totally disappointed!"
...Wow.
The world's full of all kinds of people, but this is the first time I've seen a grown-ass woman refer to herself by her own name like some little kid.
"W-well, still, having at least one porter will make things easier, won't it?"
The pig with glasses and a face full of acne, trying to persuade her while looking flustered by the woman's attitude.
The man — who seemed to be the vanguard judging by his armor — stammered his words, and then the archer beside him, skinny as a dried anchovy, chimed in to back him up.
"Well, of course it will. Having someone to handle the grunt work means more time for us to devote ourselves to serving Lady Neris! This is our first time conquering a new dungeon too, right? The more margin we have, the better, so to speak..."
"Besides, the only issue is his low rank — the job-seeking documents this fellow submitted explicitly state his purpose is nothing more than dungeon observation."
"Th-that's right, buhehehe! Meaning there's no real need to pay him wages just to use him as a porter. We can work him to the bone without spending a single coin!"
"...Hmph, if you put it that way, I suppose I have no choice."
The female mage was finally persuaded by her somehow dim-witted party members.
It seemed what had especially earned their trust was the fact I hadn't demanded any particular compensation, and she began to approach me without much visible suspicion.
"You there, blondie."
"Ah, yes. My name is Dave."
"Hohoh, you expect a noble being such as myself to bother remembering the name of some nobody? What an impertinent little wretch."
...Anyone listening would think she was some kind of aristocrat.
Damn it, why was it that every party I infiltrated turned out to be nothing but a magnet for weirdos?
"I don't know what intentions you harbored before joining this party, or what kind of things you've been through. But if you plan to latch onto our party and suck at the honeyjar, you'll at least need to follow the party's rules. So from now on, you'll obey my every word with absolute submission, same as these simpletons here. Do you understand what I'm telling you?"
"Y-yes. Understood."
I played along more or less, but she was not someone I could view favorably even with empty flattery.
In terms of sheer rudeness, she might even outclass Ymir...
Yeah, at least Ymir didn't arbitrarily pick fights with people who had nothing to do with her.
"Hoo, hoo. How fortunate that a porter fellow volunteered at just the right time."
But it wasn't as if I had no idea whatsoever why this female mage had developed such a disposition.
Just looking at the guys currently in the party said enough: an acne-ridden pig, an anchovy, and guys with necks bent forward like turtles...
Except for the party leader, every last one of them looked like they'd never done the bare minimum of self-care.
"This means more chances to score points with Lady Neris."
"Buhehehe! Wh-what should I ask her to order first... I'd kill for the chance to massage her shoulders..."
It was a familiar human archetype — one I'd often seen back when I had played the role of a dungeon guide.
A group commonly referred to as a 'Reject Party.' These were collectives formed by members who, for some reason or another, had been cast off by other adventurers and gathered together.
In reality, a party is a group where communication between its members is absolutely critical. No matter how individually skilled someone is, if their teamwork is lacking, they'll inevitably end up on an unspoken blacklist.
Those cast off from their respective parties would, out of necessity — or by bonding over their shared status as outcasts — end up forming a fixed party together. And there were, from time to time, women who voluntarily showed up to join these 'Reject Parties' composed of such discards.
The psychology of it: better to be a snake's head than a dragon's tail...
"If I score points this time, I might even end up dating Lady Neris... Uhihihi!"
And it goes without saying that the guys in a Reject Party are, without exception, predominantly men who've never managed to so much as properly hold a woman's hand.
For them, having a woman join the party is considered an enormous blessing in and of itself.
"H-hey, don't get ahead of yourself. Lady Neris is everyone's princess!"
"But there's always that one-in-a-million chance, right? Maybe, just maybe..."
Ah, right. So it wasn't that they were entirely content being treated like slaves.
Because deep down, hidden beneath the surface, lay the desperate hope that — maybe, just maybe — they could end up with her...
"That aside, hmm..."
As I was taking rough stock of the party's state of affairs, Neris, who had been studying me intently, began to draw a greasy smile across her lips.
"...What's this? For someone working as a porter, you're pretty good-looking, aren't you?"
"Thank you for the compliment."
"You'd better be thankful. It's none other than I who's giving it, after all."
Hah, a reject mage who doesn't even have the guts to set foot into the domain of real mages — and her arrogance pierces the heavens.
From the standpoint of someone like me, who was literally risking his life in an operation targeting a woman truly worthy of being called a dragon, this creature was nothing short of loathsome.
"Still, it'd be best to teach you a thorough lesson about your proper place before we start the real conquest, wouldn't it? I'll condition you before the dungeon expedition tomorrow, so come to my room."
"At night... to your room, you mean?"
"It won't be a bad deal for you either. An opportunity to receive the affection of an exalted existence like myself will never come again in your miserable life."
Ah, I see. She figured she'd give me a rough working-over and a bit of stimulation, and I'd start feeling grateful all on my own — something like that, then?
And judging by the reactions of the guys fuming with jealousy over there, it was probably closer to one-sided verbal abuse than any kind of intimate conversation.
"Th-that bastard. How dare he try to monopolize the princess's reward...!"
"An impertinent brat who just joined!"
"Ha ha! He's nothing but a disposable sandbag. Don't worry, we're the ones in the superior position here."
...Even something like that would be a reward those woman-starved bastards would kill for, I'm sure.
In any case, since I had joined this party, even temporarily, I'd need to play along with the rhythm for now.
"Aaaahng~♥ S-so, gooooood~!!! M-make me feel even betterrrrr~~~♥"
Well.
The one who's going to end up being conditioned isn't me — it's going to be her.