The Gloomy Black-Haired Busty Girl (6)
Idwild flinched as her ass took the slap, then murmured, "Hah... hit me one more time..."
"I'm too scared I'll piss myself from fear on your shoulder, so no can do."
I shut her down flat and bounded up the stairs. I tossed her onto the bed in one of the single rooms on this floor and said, "You can heat water with magic, right?"
"Y-yeah..."
"I'll fetch some water, so wait here."
I scooped water from the massive oak barrel behind the inn and poured it into the room's bathtub. As expected, Idwild gave a casual wave of her hand, and steam soon rose invitingly from the tub.
Watching that miraculous sight, I felt a powerful urge to actually hire a mage for the inn. But not Idwild. Black magic pollutes everything around it. I was just feeling sorry enough to let her crash here for one night.
"Wash up and get some sleep."
"Thanks..."
Once Bertrand left, Idwild shed her robe. The thin linen shirt underneath was soaked with sweat, making her breasts transparently visible. She peeled off the clinging fabric with effort. Her massive chest always made removing her top a struggle.
As for her bottoms... nothing. She'd stripped off her panties back at the workshop when she nearly pissed herself. If she'd known it'd come to this, she would've grabbed a spare outfit...
Standing naked before the mirror, Idwild examined her body closely. Short stature, huge chest that made her look chubby, plump hips and thighs... Her hair hung limp and unkempt, framing a gloomy face. Idwild recalled the bubbly woman she'd met earlier. Hildeva, was it? She was tall and fair-skinned, unlike Idwild. Her brown hair was elegantly pinned up, her bespectacled eyes sparkled with kindness, and her full lips glowed with healthy color like ripe cherries.
Compared to her, I... Idwild turned away from her reflection in disgust and hurried into the tub.
"Haaah... so good..."
As she sank into the warm water, an involuntary moan escaped. Embarrassing, but how long had it been since her last bath? She washed thoroughly, lifting her heavy underboobs to scrub the sweat-prone areas and shampooing her hair. Sniffing the soap, she caught the same scent as the one wafting from that administrator earlier.
As she lathered her shoulders, Idwild remembered the Holy Sword that had pinned her there. No physical wounds, but the black magic boiling inside her had caused excruciating pain. The Holy Sword embodied ultimate holy power, the polar opposite of black magic. When opposites clashed, that was the reaction.
That was why the goddess-blessed Holy Sword was merciless to monsters. No monster in the world could defeat its wielder. Even the mightiest beasts were creations of the goddess's world, and the sword channeled the creator's might.
So why did Bertrand still bear the goddess's blessing? He'd said he retired after slaying the Demon King, so he shouldn't be a hero anymore...
When Beldra's Curse Rope had bound Bertrand, Idwild had harbored a flicker of hope. A twisted hope that, with her profane black magic, she could finally nestle into arms she could never reach otherwise. But that hope shattered, just as it always had her whole life.
The goddess's light that warmed the world was nothing but frustration and despair for her.
"Bertrand..."
She remembered the first time he'd visited her workshop, seeking black magic knowledge. His impassive gaze scanning the place, his shaggy black hair from the rough journey. Bertrand had traveled with her, a black mage, without hesitation. Just a few weeks, but for Idwild, it was the longest she'd ever spent with anyone—the most conversation she'd ever had.
Born under a cursed fate, she'd driven her parents to death at a young age and lived alone ever since. Even if Bertrand had only stuck with her out of necessity, it was precious to Idwild. His attention, his words, his warmth, his gaze—they'd seared into her mind like a branding iron.
"Bertrand..."
Idwild whispered his name gloomily, laced with affection. One hand slid to her breast, the other between her legs. Her arm began a steady rhythm, rippling the bathwater. Soap suds ebbed with the waves, and as they did, her cheeks flushed deeper.
After a long while, her body shuddered violently.
"Hngh...!"
Water sloshed over the tub's edge. She convulsed several more times before slumping, utterly spent. With a sigh-like whisper, she murmured, "I... want to live here too..."
By early dawn, Hildeva arrived for work. Della rose as the sun peeked, prepping for business. Even after the Pallring merchants came down for breakfast, Idwild hadn't emerged.
After serving the merchants, I headed upstairs, worried the gloomy black mage might've bolted overnight.
"Hey. You up?"
No answer. I cracked the door—it wasn't locked. Idwild lay buried under the covers up to her head.
"Get up. Eat something, then sleep."
I yanked the blanket off and immediately slammed it back down in shock. What the fuck... why the hell is she sleeping buck naked?!
Glancing around, I spotted her damp shirt on the floor. No shoes and no clothes? What kind of mage is this...
"Bertrand... don't... the back's not ready yet..."
From under the covers came Idwild's highly indecent sleep-talk.
She had something to do before the Pallring folks left... After some agonizing, I peeked under the blanket and shook her bare shoulder.
"Hey. Hey. Wake up. Idi."
At the nickname, Idwild's eyes fluttered open amid her wild black hair. Her dark pupils swiveled to me, then widened as she clutched the blanket.
"N-no...! Bertrand...! That's where the shit comes out...!"
"What the hell are you babbling about?! Get up already!"
I bellowed, and she finally snapped to, rolling her eyes around under the covers.
"Ah... sorry... thought it was a dream..."
"Come down, eat, then crash. You've got shit to do too."
"Shit to do...? With clothes... on, or...?"
"Want a Holy Sword smack on the ass?"
"Sorry..."
I left her and headed to the first-floor hall. Luckily, the merchant wearing the Sansa around his neck was still eating.
Moments later, Idwild descended in her robe, clutching it over her ass and chest. No wonder—she had nothing underneath...
She skirted the merchants widely and approached me.
"What do I gotta do...?"
"See that guy? The one with the Sansa necklace."
Idwild nodded, eyeing him.
"Lift the black magic curse on that Sansa. Turn it into a harmless head trinket. Got it?"
"Y-yeah... got it..."
Idwild made some intricate gestures toward the man.
"Done..."
"You sure? Nothing changed."
She held out her hand to me. A quail-egg-sized orb of swirling black magic hovered there.
"Eww, gross. Get that away."
Idwild clenched her fist, absorbing the black magic into her palm. Dark veins bulged briefly on her hand before fading.
"Black magic's just... so... nasty..."
Anyway, that merchant wouldn't meet a gruesome end anytime soon. Stopping at this inn had been the luck of a lifetime for him. He'd carried a misfortune charm to dodge bad luck, and the charm's maker had nullified it, finally freeing him.
"You want breakfast?"
"No... money..."
"Just... take it free."
"Then... I'll eat..."
Idwild perched on a backless round bar stool, but her wide ass made it cramped, so she fidgeted constantly.
I loaded a plate with bread, chorizo sausage, fried eggs, and more, then asked, "Starting the statue today? How long?"
"About a week..."
"Why so long?"
Idwild averted her eyes, hesitating. I caught the lie.
"See that?"
She shrank at the sight of the Holy Sword on the wall behind me.
"S-sorry... done by tonight..."
I handed her the prepped coin pouch.
"Advance payment."
Idwild pulled out the gold coins and counted them slowly—even ten took forever.
"Ten... yeah..."
As she tucked them back, she burst into tears. Fat droplets plopped onto the coins.
"Why cry now? I gave you money."
"Huh? Why are you crying, miss?"
Della, seeing Idwild for the first time that morning, rushed over in alarm.
"Miss, what's so sad?"
Della soothed her gently, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.
"Boss, why'd you make her cry?"
"I didn't—she just started."
"No way."
Della shot me a disbelieving look. I held my tongue to avoid a long argument. Idwild clutching the coins and sobbing looked pitiful enough.
Why does she have to look so damn pitiable?
After stifling her tears and wolfing down breakfast, Idwild headed out and didn't return till sunset. Through the window, I saw her milling about the empty lot I'd designated as parking, doing something. I'd sternly warned everyone to stay clear, so I couldn't even bring her lunch and had to watch from afar.
As evening fell, another group arrived, keeping me busy serving them. By the time dinner wrapped and they headed upstairs, Idwild pushed open the inn door.
"It's done... come see..."
I followed her across the street to the lot. At first glance, nothing seemed amiss—probably invisible magic.
"Where's the statue?"
"There..."
Idwild pointed to the center. As the sun dipped behind the Vurn Mountains, darkness cloaked the lot, but a pristine white marble statue stood there.
I stared, utterly baffled.
"What... the fuck is that?"