The Villainess Is An SS+ Rank Adventurer

There were few corners of my kingdom I’d never slept through. 

After all, there were few corners of my kingdom where the roads were not fit enough to host my carriages padded with enough pillows that even were it to topple over, I’d merely find myself resting on a cooler part of the fabric. But here?

Here was one of them.

Beneath the Royal Institute of Mages, the road was pockmarked with so many fireball sized holes that pirates digging for treasure would salute in respect. And why not? When it came to scavenging artifacts and leaving behind no official trace or paperwork, the pirates were mere students. 

Indeed, if there was one thing I could rely upon mages for, it was their ability to hide their misdeeds while simultaneously boasting of them. The holes desecrating my kingdom being one example. 

I narrowed my eyes as I rode past the latest wooden sign to be plonked beside a crater. 

 

Beware of rabbit burrows.

 

I clenched my fists around Apple’s reins. 

Oh yes. It was time for some badly needed spring cleaning. And that would begin by offering the mages a reminder of the joys of magic–by having them learn to use a shovel.

But first things first.

Ensuring I didn’t disturb the busy work of the knights tasked with defending the road.

A heartwarming sight met me as I approached the tower. A barricade of hastily erected wooden palisades. Here was a reminder that even if nobility, mages and maids who repaired the clock in my bedroom after I purposefully sabotaged it often forgot their duties, the knights of my realm did not. 

Although few in number, their banners were plenty. 

Fluttering amidst torches and braziers, they were as bright as the smiles of my knights as they stood to attention before their portable wardrobes and mirrors, choosing which cloak to don this day. 

They patrolled ceaselessly, pacing to and fro as they practised their dancing steps to woo a serving girl at a soirée they were never invited to. 

They butted heads in deep conversation, their words of tactics loud in the air regarding how to comb their hair in a way which looked natural and not at all like they used a comb.

Skipping beside me, Coppelia blinked in curiosity as she studied my gallant defenders.

“You know … there’s something I’ve always been meaning to ask.”

“Y-Yes? What is it?”

“It’s about your knights.”

I pursed my lips slightly as Apple approached a makeshift gate. I tugged on his reins to hurry him and this conversation along faster. I failed on both accounts.

“That’s … well, that’s only natural … you’re a maiden, after all,” I said, counting each moment. “But I must inform you that the answer is no … I expressly forbid you from approaching them. As affable as my knights appear, you must not allow their charms to win over you.” 

“Ahahaha~”

Coppelia merely laughed. 

That was fair. I made less subtle attempts at time wasting when I excused myself to use the bathroom in the middle of a lesson, in the middle of an answer, in the middle of a word.

“V-Very well … and what is your query, Coppelia?” 

“Weeell … it’s just, you know, what do your knights actually … do?”

“They are the stalwart defenders of the kingdom,” I said, instantly parroting the official line. “They are both the first and the last line of defence. Martial warriors raised to knighthood, typically from wealthy households who can afford their arms and armour, and proven with acts of valour and chivalry. Where danger is thickest, they can be found with lance and shield in hand, ready to fell whichever monsters or foes dare await them.”

A nearby knight gave a wince of pain as he plucked at his eyebrows.

Coppelia nodded.

“They must be very brave.”

“Yes. Yes they are.”

I said no more as a small break in the wooden palisade provided the only visible access to the tower proper. Here, both the knights and the calm was replaced by a clear skittishness in the air. 

A sizable group of soldiers from the nearest garrison were banded around the gap. But although they didn’t busy themselves with their personal grooming techniques, neither did they offer their challenges, nor more importantly, their gratitude to Coppelia and I as we approached.

The answer was soon clear why.

The guards were not concerned with who was arriving.

Only with who was leaving.

Bwoomph!

Beyond the wooden palisade and the watching eyes, a pair of heavy oaken doors smashed open. 

It was the entrance to the Royal Institute of Magic. Overlooking a set of white marble steps lit with flaming braziers, it was the base of a grand tower gleaming with history and streaks of magic. But all that I saw instead were the things now revealed beneath its doorway.

Ghhwaaururrhhghh.

Emerging from the tower, creatures which haunted the nightmares of demons came lumbering forth. 

Abominations with forms so grotesque they would turn even knights to terror … which was probably why none of them were present. They were a horrid mishmash of flesh and limbs, a sickly mosaic of many things once living crudely sewn together, wielding hooks and cleavers as they waddled with forms barely resembling any monster known to reside beneath the sunlight.

They shambled forth, girthy bellies before them and bubbling acid trailing behind.

I gasped, my legs quivering even as I sat upon Apple’s steady back. Horror filled every morsel of my soul … for before these poor, innocent creatures … was a row of monsters.

“[Fireball].”

“[Severing Light].”

“[Crackling Lightning].”

“[Sabre Shards].”

One by one, the creatures were pummeled with enough spellwork to douse the air with colour once again. 

They stood as little chance against the barrage as a leaf against a storm. 

As their corpses littered the steps before the oaken doors, a further barrage of spells engulfed them, until nothing remained but ash … ash that was then swept aside with a flick of a wrist, before the doors were closed with a fist of arcane energy.

Destroyed, erased, and then neatly swept aside. 

Few would take such care when erasing monsters from this world. 

Certainly not adventurers. Not even guards.

No … this was the work of killers trained to a different standard. Professionals who did not only perform their work, but did it to such a surgical, unfeeling degree that one had to wonder what terrifying things they would be employed to do if they weren’t contracted to their current occupations.

Adventurer’s Guild receptionists.

I covered my mouth at the sight of them … yes, them, in the plural.

Not one. Not two. Not three. 

But four smiling young women, each impeccably dressed in uniforms without a single crinkle, matching their postures as they stood as straight and unbending as the tower before them. 

I was aghast.

So … So many receptionists!

But why?!

I’d never seen them in such … such concentration! Not even in Reitzlake’s capital were so many congregated in one spot! Why, it simply wasn’t required–for the same reason a large gathering of assassins wasn’t! 

One was enough. Two at a stretch. But this many? They could conjure enough documents to bring down a troll!

Suddenly, one of them clapped their hands together as she turned to her colleagues.

“–So I was thinking, why not line up our holidays this year?”

“Oh? Should we all go somewhere together?”

“I think it’d be fun! Summer isn’t far away now.”

“That’s a good idea! What about Lissoine? My brother always talks about how nice the Jardin Botanique de Lissoine is in the summer. And we could visit the beach as well.”

“Lissoine? Hmm, it’s nice, but if all of us go together, shouldn’t it be somewhere further away?”

“What about Ouzelia?” suggested Coppelia, naturally sliding into the group conversation. “It’s not only exotic, but also surprisingly homely! Whether you want to explore forests filled with carnivorous trees or hike mountains filled with carnivorous rocks, we have it all!”

The group of receptionists blinked towards the new addition, then towards each other.

“Ouzelia! My, that sounds lovely!” 

“I have a friend who works for the Bewitching Postal Service. We might be able to lodge!”

Their smiles bloomed like that of newly trained maids in the darkness. The scene of smouldering death was as lost from their thoughts as they were before their eyes.

These receptionists.

They … They were not quite right. 

None of them were.

I wasn’t sure how. I wasn’t sure why. But I knew that if a receptionist murdered someone in a forest, then no one would be left alive to hear it. They suffered no witnesses, allowed no corpses and offered no evidence. The spotless steps before the tower door was proof enough of that. 

Indeed, if I could be grateful for the Adventurer’s Guild for one thing, it was somehow convincing them that a life of customer service was better than a life as hired assassins.

“... Greetings! You currently seem as though you’re lost. May I provide assistance?”

Especially as they had the footsteps of them.

I swished Apple around, then duly recoiled from the smile coming from … yes, receptionist #5!

I was horrified.

There were officially enough receptionists to form a musical quintet! By any metric, that was too much!

“T-Thank you, but I’m not lost,” I said, peeling away slightly. “There is, however, a circus populated by magical clowns nearby who are. If possible, I’d appreciate it if you could direct them to their destination where they can do some work–here.”

“If you’re referring to the nearby group of mages affiliated with the Royal Institute, I believe they’re apprentices. As a result, they’re beholden to the rules which require they undertake their current fund raising activities.”

“What they’re beholden to is fixing what they’ve collectively broken. Or at the very least, unnecessarily getting in the way of your capable defence against the horrors clearly hoping to escape this tower. Excuse me, but why are there so many of … you here?”

Yes.

This was now my most pressing question.

Black hole in the sky? Monsters rolling out of the tower? Coppelia selling tickets to tourist attractions she almost certainly had no right to represent? 

… None of these now mattered!

Instead, I offered my finest look of bewilderment at a receptionist who didn’t bat an eyelash as she smiled. A smile which surely had as much place outside this tower as the untaxed crowns now entering Coppelia’s pouch.

“Ah, if you’re referring to the presence of my colleagues and I, it’s because the Adventurer’s Guild has a permanent stall located here. You likely may have missed it. It’s currently being used by a group of knights requiring shelter for their hair products.”

I nodded.

“I don’t understand.”

The receptionist hummed.

“Well, I believe the wax-based products they primarily use contain oils, which makes them water soluble and therefore vulnerable to the rain.”

“No, not that,” I said, flicking the image of my knights away. “For what reason could the Adventurer’s Guild require a stall here? Are mages not capable of finding their own cats? Or do they use this tax funded tower only to specialise in the study of how to cause calamities?”

“Oh no, they’re quite capable of finding their own cats,” said the receptionist … providing exactly half an answer. “This isn’t a stall for commissions. It’s a recruiting station.”

My mouth widened as it all became clear.

“A recruiting station? ... Do you mean to say that the guild squats outside this tower, plucking whatever mages smile at the correct eerily straight angle?”

“Indeed, that would be accurate!”

Why, the shamelessness of the Adventurer’s Guild … and also the only good thing they do! 

This was precisely how they picked out the very receptionists I saw around me! By selecting the most horrifying of the bunch like roses at the peak of their thorns, they ensured that they monopolised the most dangerous to themselves!

“I see … very well, I cannot fault the guild for their opportunism. But why exactly are receptionists now being required to hold back literal monsters sewn from the abyss? I’m only aware of this black hole in the sky. Nobody told me about any creatures it was somehow spawning as well.”

“My colleagues and I are defending against the hordes of terror as a courtesy,” said the receptionist, as though this was just another document she needed to be signed. “However, whether or not the monsters seeking to escape the tower are related to the above phenomenon is unclear at present. Their appearance is a recent event.”

“Excellent. All that says is that whatever’s happening, it’s somehow becoming worse. I almost dare not ask this, but are there no safeguards in place? Magical defences? What of those mages inside?”

“It’s possible that both the resident mages and the tower defences have either been overwhelmed or disabled. As a result, direct entry through the main entrance is unadvised owing to the lack of actionable information. I say this as I note the ring you wear. It is a joy to see an adventurer in these uncertain times! Did you wish to enter the tower?”

No, I wished to forget its existence. 

But until I had access to a falling plant pot, I had to make do with manually bashing my head against whatever inane reason I was certain to be given for this calamity.

“My only desire is to close my eyes and wake to see the sunlight bearing down upon me. And that can be done the moment you inform me that someone not me is already seeing to this debacle.”

“Yes. The Mage’s Guild immediately dispatched a team of senior mages to assess the situation.” 

I clapped my hands in delight. At last, expendable goons fulfilling their function. A sliver of good news.

“Wonderful! And what news of their progress?”

“They assessed the situation was dire and returned in order to convene a convocation. Beyond that, I’m afraid I’ve no knowledge regarding their current progress.”

There wasn’t even room for disappointment. 

No, on the contrary, this was the grief of hearing that a new servant had stepped on one of Clarise’s clearly invisible and unmarked trapped tiles and spilled fire and pudding everywhere again. Incompetence and ineptitude. This was just normal.

“0% is their progress,” I said, wrinkling my nose. “If the Mage’s Guild are still in the drafting stages of a plan, then I can be sure to rely upon them as much as a foie gras to start quacking again. I don’t suppose they left a note explaining what this black hole in the sky actually is before they fled to gather their belongings and travel documents?”

“They did not. However, my colleagues and I have been deliberating on the matter in preparation for an official commission being formalised.”

“Fine. I certainly trust your information gathering over anything the local clowns can decipher. What is this unwelcome thing endangering my petunias, exactly?”

“We have a working theory. But we’re hoping to confirm it with an expert opinion. We’ve a colleague on the way whose dissertation regarding advanced concepts in metaphysics earned the highest recorded marks. She’ll gladly help. In truth, it’ll likely be hard for us to book a holiday for so long as this is occurring.”

I let out the tiniest sigh.

Very well, then. Anything to delay needing to traipse up a thousand staircases like some moronic adventurer in search of stronger calves.

“I see … and when will this expert arrive?”

The receptionist twirled her finger. A pocket watch appeared. I glanced over it with mild interest. Gold framed with luminous jade hands. My, a receptionist’s salary was no paltry thing, it seemed.

“12 seconds,” she said simply.

I duly waited, tapping against Apple’s reins. 

And then–

Snap.

Appearing to the sound of a whip, yet another receptionist blinked into existence, wisps of magic dissipating from her form like fireflies fleeing into the night.

But this was not receptionist #6.

Oh no … not at all.

Because this one didn’t just join the choir. 

She led them. 

Although there was nothing to separate her professional smile, straight posture and unwrinkled uniform from those around her, no amount of darkness could hide the face I now recognised as much as the carrots which haunted my dreams.

It was her.

The harbinger of doom. The crier of the night. The omen of despair.

“Welcome back, Mirabelle! Thank you for coming at short notice!”

The receptionist of the Reitzlake branch.

“Greetings!” said the familiar young woman, not even blinking as she took in the sight of my wide mouth and horrified expression. Apple leaned forward in search of another fire, acid and water-proof scroll to nibble on. “Goodness, what a delight it is to see–”

“Come, Coppelia! We shall proceed through the front door at once!”

“Yay~!”