I'm the Only One with a Proper Familiar
"Phew, it's so comfy not wrapping these bandages for once, but it feels kinda weird."
I kneaded my chest, which was soft and jiggly like pudding, massaging it over my clothes. Binding them up tight every day cut off circulation and was seriously stuffy. While rubbing and shaking them every which way to get the blood flowing, ignoring all the stares...
"The stares around us are getting too piercing—stop kneading already."
"Ahh, but this feels so refreshing! You wouldn't get it, Grand Duke, 'cause you don't have these."
"At least it's certain your classmates' sexual preferences are getting twisted.>"
Right after sparring practice ended, what awaited us was a mock dungeon exploration. Zard had crashed headfirst into my chest during the fight and got hurt bad enough to knock out teeth. But once the duel wrapped up, he came back like nothing happened, teeth fully restored.
I figured they had safeguards in place—without them, accidents could turn disastrous. Though I hadn't imagined some magical light swirling around, erasing bloodstains and scrapes like an eraser. Seeing that made the academy feel even more impressive.
'I won this time somehow, but can I keep winning?'
Knowing even reckless fights get healed, I thought maybe next time I could grab a light sword and go all out. But when I came down and heard the professor say familiars are banned but weapons are okay, I panicked hard. The call to fight had me hopping up barehanded on instinct.
Zard saw that, tossed his weapon, and came up barehanded too. He said no matter how important grades are, an orc's pride won't let him fight an unarmed girl with a weapon. Felt bad, so I gifted him cafe dessert coupons.
Anyway—enough backstory.
Now I wasn't in uniform. Herbology class had soaked my clothes, making my skin visible through the fabric. Spare uniform? Shredded to bits by that greatsword maniac's heroics, so no dice. Settled for a plain black long-sleeve instead.
Explained the situation, and the professor okayed it—no uniform means risk of injury, just don't overdo it. Didn't seem worried about me... more like convinced. Like, "Even if dungeon monsters beat her down, she'd come out unscratched."
Changed clothes, unwrapped the soggy bandages—back to no-bra life after so long.
"Ha... They're heavy, sure, but tuck the shirt under like this—ta-da! Way comfier!"
"Your navel must be freezing.>"
"It's warm enough. Past the age where baring my belly gives me a cold, right?"
[Change] said nothing more to Wiyu's words. He glanced at her slim waist and wide hips, her glossy bronze skin, and the boys staring at her navel like their souls were getting sucked out.
To hormonal teens, this was beyond stimulating—straight-up injecting drugs into their veins. And her breasts swaying mercilessly side to side with every step? Beatus and Kali kept their distance, not wanting to get tangled up.
Thus, the mad witch strolled into the artificial dungeon for [Field Class (Dungeon Exploration)]—no uniform, navel out, no bra.
The other class's first-years and repeat-year second-years gawked in awe at her bold strut. Some froze stiff, curling up and screaming as monsters hit them.
"Gaaah!! Witchcraft curse!! Don't look back!!"
"Whoa, damn."
"That's just a first-year...? Terrifying...! Never seen ones that huge!"
They were surely talking about the sheer overwhelming power Wiyu packed. Change decided that was it and tuned out the world with hazy eyes.
"Well, that was just a temp Witchcraft experience, but field classes change dungeon layouts each time. Inside, artificially placed bosses lurk, and you rack up points by hunting the monsters that spawn. Extra points for how skillfully and quickly you handle them—and soloing the boss gives individual bonuses."
Class time's fixed, but nail the boss first and you can head home early, the professor said. Students cheered.
But our class was second in after herbology—some other class already inside, and the boss still up? Not easy. Plus competing with other classes? Brutal.
"And dungeon lectures are mandatory too...?"
"It's field class, not dungeon. Nobles gotta fight if monsters pop up in their territory..."
"Ugh."
Beatus's quip made me sigh—my peaceful rural village had few monsters anyway. The few around were ones I could handle... or maybe Mom kept them away, or handled them herself.
"Everyone!! I'll handle this one solo!! Sorry!!"
"Nah, no need to apologize. Being with a no-bra perv witch is awkward for us too—go alone."
"It was 'cause of sweat!!"
"Normal girls don't strip over sweat. You mocking me for not having any? I got 'em too!! Wanna see!? Think they're band-aids!!"
"No, that's not what I—sorry..."
Calmed fuming Beatus. Familiars allowed this time, so I'd lead with [Void Mask], my one proper contracted familiar, to conquer this dungeon solo. Can't split points with friends, I'd hog 'em all—but honestly, that's barely scraping by!!
"Void Mask!!"
I called loud. It waddled out silently from behind, striking a ta-da~! pose.
Told it to stay in the dorm usually... Seeing this huge thing huddled in the corner gave me guilt pangs. So I let it hang at the cafe during school hours, but it showed up quick... Was it tailing me in secret?
"Void creature thing, probably.>"
"Grand Duke, know anything about voids?"
"Knowing hurts.>"
Dangerous stuff. He muttered like it was a forbidden crab-patty burger recipe.
Whatever—raise affinity and I'll learn naturally. Checked the dungeon mobs: [Living Armors Possessed by Specters]. Lowest devil as boss, but Grand Duke said contractors are fine. Devils taking dungeon jobs these days? Times are tough.
"Alright! Void Mask! You're up!! Attack!!"
No clue how it fights or its skills, but that sturdy bulk barreling in should work. Gave the order.
Void Mask shoved a hand into its head-body joint. What was in there!? Out came twin flails—clear murder weapons.
"?"
Boom-crash-smash—!!!
Unthinkable combat style!! It swung the flails wildly, pulverizing Living Armor helmets!! Empty other arms grabbed fallen legs, wielding the Armors like flails to shatter formations.
Students' foes—sword-only Living Armors—swung at it, but it dodged paper-thin with nimble shakes, blind. Then flails smashed into the openings, crumpling steel bodies.
Abyooo!!—like a battle cry echoing in my head.
Whirr-whirr—high-speed spins exploded Living Armors!! Martial arts master...!! Over 30 trashed to scrap in seconds, flails stowed.
Magic fourth-dimensional pocket? Out popped a foldable green cart.
Clunk. Set it down, hopped on, kicked off—rampaging forward.
Shocked by its full-speed charge, I chased, hands suppressing my bouncing chest. Straight to boss room?!
Blockers flew like cats hit by cows.
"Wh-what!?"
Deep in, other class students appeared. Seeing a cart-riding doll mask and bucket-headed freak chasing—monster?!—they screamed.
"Uwaaah!!"
"Run!!!"
"Dodge!! To the corner!!"
Void Mask ignored students ahead, max speed shortest path. They dove flat to evade.
How far? Boss room loomed. A first-year fighting Armor horde turned at the noise.
"—What?! Hold up!! This is my turf!! Go around!!"
"Ahh, Yamucha!! Dodge!!"
"Huh? Wiyu? Why the bucket?"
Glanced at my head-bucket, then down—face flushed, "stunned." Yamucha shut his eyes in resignation.
"Yaaaamuchaaaaaaa—!!!!!"
20+ spins at insane speed, splat on the ground, limp.
Armors panicked—alive?—checked breathing, pupils. Called prof meticulously. My shock popped the bucket off.
"Yamucha! You okay? Sorry! First time using a familiar...!!"
Grand Duke's there, but I give orders—awkward. Checked his face by his side, apologized. Nosebleed, so propped his head on my lap to keep blood from his brain.
"Ugh... Well... can't be helped..."
First-time familiar handling accidents happen... he tried saying it was fine. But lap pillow hid his face, so I leaned in.
Squish.
"S-sorry, can't hear. What?"
Squiiiish.
"Oh, squishing with my chest... So uselessly huge..."
"...Wiyu..."
"Yeah?"
"Bra...?"
"Not wearing one..?"
I see... Yamucha, the gentleman, asked no more and turned his head aside. No idea why not, but prying on sensitive stuff is rude. Nice scent... No regrets as a man...
"This okay, right...?"
Armors said yes, brought portable stretcher, carted him off. Can't even lap-pillow properly 'cause of huge chest...! Hope not suffocated unconscious. Worried.
But owner's duty: check familiar didn't cause more chaos. Apologized to Armors, entered. Void Mask danced excitedly before boss room.
"Ugh... Void Mask... Don't hurt classmates. My friend got badly hurt."
It scratched head, nodded. Pointed at boss room—okay to fight? Nodded, it kicked door open.
"Hoh!! A first-year reaching the boss room already!! Broke through my daily-wage Living Armors, eh!! I'll handle you—Red Horn, lowest contract devil!!>"
Real devil...!! But with Grand Duke, I gauged its level. Underwhelming... One Grand Duke would suffice.
"Alright, go! Void Mask, take it down!"
Nod! Hand into head-body again—pulled handle, shiiiing long blade.
Pam-papa-bam~ ♬ Toy sword's voice blared. Gripped two-handed—Ching! Kaija Sword! Kinda cool.
"But... toy sword win...?"
No sooner thought—head still, body spun.
"Ah."
Blender—no, shredder—no, mini-tornado launched.
Who raised enemy top Garen?! The devil wailed as Void Mask's storm-peeler swordplay shredded it. One hit sparked endless combos, pinning to wall. Ground to dust—brutal murder tech.
Thus, I set the dungeon's fastest clear record, snagging top score.
"No matter how I think... that was overkill..."
Grades matter, but watching the boss beg for mercy... felt a bit much.