The Villainess Is An SS+ Rank Adventurer

We couldn’t find a chapel.

Luckily, there were ways to exorcise a cursed sack of gold other than donating a significant amount to the same sister tasked with cleansing it. And that was to head in the opposite direction. 

To find a scene of such impropriety and sin that even the most malignant of curses could do nothing but meekly scurry away, cowed by the whip of a greater corruption.

This … was not a guild hall.

But it was the next best thing. 

The Fledgling Hen.

Yes … a common roadside inn!

Windows blotted with grease! Walls cracked with innumerable fractures! A chimney as haggard as the expressions of those who stayed here! 

Catering exclusively to wayfarers, highwaymen and the merchants they rob, here was a place where standards never arrived to die in the first place!

I clapped my hands in delight–even as my expression remained appalled.

“Ohohoho … behold, Coppelia! Here is where we shall exorcise the obviously cursed sack of gold!”

Beside me, an enthusiastic smile lit up the evening despite the sack partially covering it.

“Really? That’s amazing. I didn’t know the shady inns of your kingdom offered de-cursing services.”

“Then you underestimate my shady inns. It’s not just a service. It’s also entirely complementary.”

“Do you mean to say there are sisters inside your shady inns just de-cursing everybody who walks in because they know they’ll probably hit someone who needs it at least once a day?”

“Of course not. That’s far too charitable. The type of people who reside in these suspicious establishments are hardly the type to do more than rob any sisters for their aid.”

“Great! Do they know how to de-curse things?”

“Yes. With their vulgarity … and also their prying fingers.”

I raised a hand to my lips, barely covering my smile.

“Ohohoho … we are but innocent maidens travelling in the night, of which our belongings consist of a sack spilling with gold. Why, if the gold is cursed to turn whoever touches it into a toad, I expect it won’t be long before an errant pair of hands attempts to find out for themselves!”

“Wooo~ I hope we get robbed!”

I nodded.

Satisfied she understood the intricacies of a plan I hadn’t created in the past five seconds, I ensured my nose was sufficiently pinched and made my way to the door.

The moment I opened it, a scene of drunken revelry rushed to welcome me. 

The warmth of a busy common room. The sound of unabashed merriment. And a sight to put even the drunkards of the Adventurer’s Guild to shame. 

For these were assuredly worse. 

Scoundrels who did not even pretend to adhere to a greater good as they died moronically while looting my family’s tombs. 

Dressed in rags, stolen tunics and unmatching strips of armour, it was a crowd consisting of all the brigands of my kingdom. With weapons at their sides and sneering grins sketched upon their faces, they hollered, danced and jumped. 

Trails of alcohol flung amongst them as easily as fists and insults. Only when the door closed behind its two cleanest arrivals did their dark eyes turn towards us. And when they did, it was as if a shadow fell upon us, longer than any cast by the hearthfire dancing away in the corner.

Within this fraternity of ill-intent, a vein of understanding spilled throughout the room. Muscles tensed as eyes filled with roguish experience went to the ruby pommel by my side. 

They should have been looking at Coppelia as she began rotating her arm. 

A moment later–

They all returned to their drinking, punching and laughing.

“Drink! Drink! Drink! Drink!”

“Bwahahahaha!”

“Hit me harder, you scum, I wanna see the sunlight when I wake up!”

My mouth widened.

What … What just happened?!

For a moment, I could only blink in bewilderment at the sight … for while the common room was assuredly filled with the worst that brigands could foster, not a single eye was turned towards me! 

I … I was appalled.

Here I was, a beautiful, fragile princess accompanied only by my disappointed handmaiden, a sack of cursed gold in our keeping begging to be taken!

… And they chose not to rob me?!

T-The absolute state of banditry in my kingdom! 

Why, it was no wonder they were so poor! If they couldn’t rob a princess strolling into their midst, how did they intend to rob anyone?! 

At this rate, they’d need to actually engage in gainful employment to survive! That meant less unpaid labourers for the soap mines!

This disregard … why, it was scandalous! 

“Welcome to The Fledgling Hen,” called out a man from behind a counter. He lifted his chin in hope of counting more than two of us. “How may I help you lasses this fine evening?”

I slowly turned from the bedlam of revelry and made my way towards the counter. All the while, I sent hopeful glances to the side, expecting to see the glint of a knife approaching.

It never came.

“S-Salutations … would you be the innkeeper of this highly bizarre establishment?”

The man laughed.

“Aye, despite my best efforts. Still, some nights are better than others. This one especially.”

“Indeed, I note it appears to be quite busy … these are real drunkards, yes? Not illusions?”

“I’d hope so. Otherwise I’d never recover, what with the amount this lot has downed. Rowdy is the word. Almost thought I’d never see it again, what with the darkness and all. I’m glad to see it gone. Shame the sun only appeared so briefly. But we’re gifted with a fine moonlight for the wait.”

“Yes, well, you’re welcome.”

A confused smile went my way. It should have been directed towards the louts as they raced between drinking and pummelling themselves to death. 

Thus, I helpfully pointed instead.

“Excuse me, but is there something wrong with your hoodlums?”

“My what?”

“Your clientele. Why do they aim their poor decisions towards each other and not the two maidens in their midst? Is there a code of chivalry in place stating they can only rob innocents at a designated time or place? If so, please inform me so I can plan how to use them as test subjects appropriately.”

The innkeeper blinked. 

Then, he gave a laugh hearty enough to drown out the mirth from his quarrelling guests. 

“Aye, I suppose I wouldn’t put it past some of these good-for-nothings to help themselves to a maiden’s belongings, even under my roof. But that was yesterday. Today, even the worst of the rabble in The Fledgling Hen now call themselves saints. Drunken saints, aye. But still saints.”

Against my baffled expression, he pointed to the portrait I was purposefully doing my best not to scar my memories with. 

Beside the counter hung the most hideous painting of a tortured woman I’d ever seen. And no wonder. The ruffians were so odorous that even a painting could do nothing but wince. 

I queried him with a raise of my hands.

“Is this a forest hag that’s particularly popular or … ?”

The innkeeper almost looked offended.

“This is Lady Lumielle. The Goddess of Light.” 

I gasped.

“This … This is the Goddess of Light?”

“Sure is. First time I’ve heard her described as a forest hag.”

I was horrified.

Why, I’d just accidentally insulted forest hags everywhere! 

“It’s not the best painting, to be sure,” said the innkeeper with a knowing chuckle. “But it was done with an earnest hand. And also a lot of ale. The first work by these former good-for-nothings. They’ve taken Lady Lumielle into their hearts, you see.”

“Why? … Did she forgive them for swearing abstinence from soap?”

The innkeeper only looked bemused. I didn’t see why. That was a kindness not even I could offer.

“She did more than that. Did you miss it? There was that big ol’ holy light. Lit up the whole darn sky and the back of my head as well. Now even the worst of us have taken to the holy scriptures. That includes not robbing maidens. After all, it had to be Lady Lumielle herself who came to our aid. May we praise her light and be blessed in return.”

I covered my mouth in horror.

“Sir  … that is blasphemy.”

The innkeeper blinked.

“Eh?”

“Why, that bolt of sundering light threatening permanent eye damage was not caused by Lady Lumielle … but by the auspices of Princess Clarise Contzen!”

Silence.

As my voice cut across the common room, the crowd suddenly went quiet. 

All eyes turned towards me. A few chairs scraped to the side. And this time, the look of ill-meaning was far more severe.

I nodded. Better.

At least until the innkeeper slapped his hand down upon his counter in joy.

“Oh, aye, I agree with you there! It is through nothing other than the faith and worship of even the princesses of this kingdom that Lady Lumielle’s light was allowed to shine!”

To my horror, cheers, clinking cups and fists instantly erased the momentary pause as all returned to their jumping, dancing and hollering.

I placed my hands over my face.

To … To think I’d underestimated the ability of the heavens to act like vultures! 

It wasn’t enough that they fed off the prayers of my people like caterpillars to my begonias! Now they sucked up my family’s acclaim! The indignity was scarcely measurable … and yet this painting was so ghastly it was a grievous slap to any goddess!

I … I was torn on what to do! 

“... Now, lass, what can I get for you, if Lady Lumielle’s portrait ain’t quite to your liking?”

Thus … I took a deep breath instead.

Yes, any misappropriated prayers were an issue. I would need to seek compensation from the Goddess of Light eventually. But I had a far more pressing problem right now.

How to survive another ceiling.

“I require lodgings and dining options,” I said, eyeing a creaking beam. “Specifically, a room which is not load bearing and a menu where nothing is brown.”

“Uh, I’m sorry, but I’m not quite sure what you mean by–”

I poked Coppelia’s sack. It jingled merrily.

“... That’ll be 5 silver crowns apiece,” said the innkeeper, his back straightening smartly. “An extra piece is for the tailored accommodation.”

I accepted by looking pointedly at Coppelia. She hugged her sack and pouted in the knowledge that in all spheres of life, the one with the sack of gold paid for everything.

“Do you take cursed money?” she asked the innkeeper.

“Excuse me?”

“We found this in the woods. It replaced a woman with racy underwear.”

The innkeeper eyed the sack in her arms with a familiar disposition. The fact that guests brought in sacks filled with coins was apparently not new in this house of wayfarers.

He scratched his chin.

“I suppose that depends … how cursed is it?”

“Well, I think it’s fine. But I’m being told it’s not.”

“Coppelia, if a sack of gold is dropped at our feet and doesn’t come with a pleading explanation and children weeping in the background, then there is no scenario in which it is fine.”

She smiled.

“Eeeh … but I can think of one scenario.”

Coppelia jiggled the sack as if to weigh it. She gave a hum and a nod.

And then … she stuck her hand in. 

Yes. 

Just like that.

“Coppelia?!”

“Oooh, something tickles~”

Showing as much blasé towards cursed sacks as she did towards poisoned teacups and the snacks frequently offered by passing farmers, she simply dipped her hand further in …

And in … and in … and in …

As it vanished into the burlap abyss, I waited in mild grief for a cloud of black smoke in the shape of a skull to begin seeping out. What I saw instead was her lifting up a fistful of coins … and then an entire mace, etched with glowing runes and lined with silver and gold embellishment.

My mouth widened to a size matched only by an innkeeper’s eyes.

“Coppelia, is … is that a weapon?” 

“Ooooh, I could use this as a paper weight!”

She stuffed it back in. And then pulled out a compass which wasn’t moving. A pocket watch missing a hand. An hourglass without any sand. And a single sock with a hole. 

One by one, she pulled out a different item as worthless or impractical as the next. An emporium of broken trinkets, doodads and loose bits of clothing interrupted only by the occasional item of either violence or mundanity.

I was stunned.

“W-What is this?! Why are you pulling so many items from it?! Can … Can you pull anything from it?! What about a satin lined pillow?!” 

Coppelia giggled, clearly already used to pulling oddities from the unknown.

“No pillow yet, but I thiiiiink there’s something else … aha!”

Out came a slip of parchment. 

I duly leaned in to read it.

 

To the Curator of the Hidden Library.

Please accept with all due apologies the items and monetary sum enclosed within this Sack Of Curios as settlement of late fees incurred by Miss Marina Lainsfont. A 1st edition copy of Wandering The Stars by Archmage Tibius Malzaront is also gifted within as an additional apology.

B. D.

 

No signature. No household stamp.

Just a short note written by an elegant hand. And a burlap sack filled to the brim with all the reasons for Coppelia to spin the sack in her arms, smacking a waiting hoodlum in the face and sending him tumbling back into a brawl. 

“Woooooo! I did my job! No more bonking!”

I blinked towards the sack.

“This … This is payment for Miss Lainsfont’s debts?”

“Eh, minus one coin. But who’s counting?”

Coppelia plucked a single gold crown, then offered it out to the innkeeper now more still than any statue of a lich. He didn’t see it, his eyes locked only on the infinite treasure or junk sack instead.

Slowly, she put the coin back inside.

I gave it a moment’s consideration before nodding.

“Hmm … very well, then.” I offered a smile, hand to my generous heart. “I suppose if this sack of … things was left in your care, it’d be obtuse, if still perfectly legal, for me to requisition it. I shall allow your library to lay claim to it.”

“I mean, I won rock, paper, scissors.”

“I-In any case, I’m concerned these friends of hers are also in my kingdom. Their charity to one another is unlikely to spread to my kingdom’s treasury. Do you know who they are?”

“Nope. Not my department. I only retrieve books.”

“I see … then, would it not be possible to ask those who do know?”

“Ahahaha~”

Hmm.

How curious. She simply laughed as an answer. And I had utterly no wish to inquire further. 

With such talent, perhaps there was hope for her handmaiden’s laughter yet.

“Alrighty!” Coppelia kneeled down, propping the sack up against the counter. “Since the big guy is definitely watching now, I’ll just quickly punt this thing away and let him praise me later.”

My mouth widened in horror of what was to come.

“Really now, you’re not going to do your … thing here, are you?”

“I mean, I could’ve done it anytime. But sometimes it’s nice to hug a bag of stuff. And also slack.”

Ugh.

I let out a tiny groan.

On one hand, I really didn’t wish for her to suffer any bonks. And yet on the other, there were only so many parts of her head I could shield.

Clap.

And so, just as I’d seen her do with everything from mysterious books to circus prizes to food she was trying to hide from Apple, she brought her hands together and stretched out a black window from the abyss. 

Just wide enough to swallow a sack, it was the closest impression to discreetness she could display.

There was just one thing different from before.

Because the moment that void formed like thick cobwebs between her palms …

“RIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE–” 

… An ear-shattering scream like the end of the world blared out from within.