Chapter 97: what the ffff

Upper Earth Month, 1st Day, 600 AGG

"Do you really have the time to take care of a pet?" Yuriko looked up from the Bunnia she was petting. "Finding a caretaker is an option, although from what I've heard, isn't the appeal of these to look after them yourself? I suppose I could ask Chief Steward Yves as overwhelmed as he is…"

"I'll bring him with me when I'm working!" Her beloved stubbornly continued lavishing their affections on the snowy rabbit-squirrel. "Right, Tarou?"

'Tarou…' Draudillon exasperatingly dragged a hand down her mouth. Gods, they'd already named him. "You'll have to remember to clean up after him. Actually, this would be your first time owning a pet, wouldn't it?"

"Ryx is my first one," her chest ached at the defensiveness of the statement. There was something painful about the idea of her beloved's first pet being a summon. Not that Draudillon herself ever bothered owning one, even in childhood, considering how pressed for time she was in past and present—but she saw no need to mention that. "A-And I can take care of him! I can!"

She was no Bunnia aficionado, but judging by the trader's stand and the guards he had with him, and 'Tarou' himself… these weren't going to come cheaply. Furthermore, the angel was going to need to offload much of the actual caretaking to somebody else. "Yuriko, how about we—"

Draudillon bit her tongue while her beloved lightly cooed to the Bunnia. Was she really going to act picky now? The kingdom was in a much better state; she and her people owed Yuriko magnitudes more than this mere trifle.

Also, this was the first time in a while they had expressed a yearning for something without her prodding them. That… it tugged upwards on the corners of her lips.

"How much does that one cost?" The disguised dragon queen rose to her feet and approached the animal breeder clad in robes that spoke of understated wealth. A trader from Re-Estize, if she considered the style of clothing he wore. Draudillon was a little surprised merchants from that far were already deciding to chase opportunities that must still be rumors for them. 'Yuriko hasn't made any western appearances, and the rumors regarding her ought to sound like embellished nonsense to them.'

Knowing that was a massive advantage; the man probably couldn't afford to hold onto his current stock for much longer before the Bunnias fully matured into adulthood and lost their 'appeal' to the wealthy. Then there were the transportation fees involved, tolls levied by Slane or Baharuth, and a whole host of other logistical issues that demanded this merchant sell as many goods in the Draconic Kingdom as possible: a place undergoing developments he was woefully unaware of.

'It's rare I enjoy this many advantages in a negotiation.'

"For flowers as beautiful as you two? One gold and three silver," she rolled her eyes at the man's reply. What kind of damn breed costed that much? "Another five silver and I'll add a carrying cage, a week's worth of high-quality hay, and some specialty-made toys at a discount. Oh, and I suggest purchasing another one to accompany Tarou for his—"

"No, one is just fine," classic merchant ploy, conjuring reasons from thin air to persuade customers to spend more money. The cage and hay made sense, but Yuriko was already going to have trouble taking care of one, much less a pair. "A tad excessive for so small a creature, hm?"

For a second, she seriously considered applying pressure through her skill to drive down the price, but the thought made her feel a bit like a violent thug. Haggling was an option though, and she'd plenty of experience doing that in her tenure as queen.

"It pains me to contradict my Lady, but I must correct the assumption: value can't be correlated to size," he calmly rebutted. "Many items of great worth can sit comfortably within the palm of my hand after all."

"Sir makes an excellent point," her whole-hearted agreement caused the man to arch an eyebrow. "Then perhaps I should ask what makes a Bunnia the equal of these items Sir is referring to."

"To compare a living being to a lifeless item is unfair of my Lady, would you not agree?" He addressed the last part to Yuriko, the angel jolting at being dragged into the conversation. "One wouldn't expect a child to fulfill the role of an ancient relic, yet society places great value on them."

"U-Um, I…" Her beloved withdrew her hand from the laconic rabbit-squirrel. "… I dunno."

Draudillon shifted to the side, blocking the man's view of Yuriko. "Comparing a child to a Bunnia is ridiculous; besides, what sets yours apart from one that can be caught in the wild?"

"Indeed, a Bunnia is far easier to raise than a child, and the breeds I sell are even more so. Better trained, a robust body, a mild temperament… then there's the costs I undertook to ensure each has a clean bill of health, my Lady."

"Seven silver," going lower was possible, but that would entail checking the prices at other breeders, returning to continue the process—and all that was assuming the merchant wouldn't get annoyed enough to kick them out. "Bunnias naturally possess gentle natures, my partner wishes to train it herself, and were I to request an adventurer party to capture a wild one in good health, it would both be cheaper and sturdier than those that have lived soft lives within a softer cage."

"I would normally be inclined to share the same sentiment, but my products haven't garnered the price they did by merely being the equals of whatever vagrant adventurers are in the business of selling. A gold and a silver since your companion seems like she'll make for a good owner."

"With Her Majesty's policy changes targeting the Guild, I imagine said adventurers would be quite eager for work," Draudillon smugly—inwardly of course—countered. Who knew her decisions would result in such a boon? "We both know the price difference is much larger than what Sir implies, and speaking of which, you've been holding onto your inventory for a while, yes? The Draconic Kingdom isn't the nearest neighbor to Re-Estize, and hardly the cheapest to trade with, considering the tolls Slane and Baharuth have implemented. I'm offering to take some of that inventory off your hands before your target demographic finds them too elderly for their tastes. Seven silver."

"My Lady has a tongue of silver," the man murmured, narrowing his eyes, but not unpleasantly so. "It speaks ill of a man who isn't willing to recognize his shortcomings. Nine silver, for I have loyal men and a family who rely upon me."

"That is that, and this is this," she evenly replied. "A word of advice from me: even the nobles of the Draconic Kingdom aren't eager to take on the responsibility of worrying after yet another living being. Not after what the beastmen wrought upon us."

"… Eight silver."

"Deal," Draudillon's mouth curved into a winsome smile that brought the smallest hints of a blush to the man's face. She silently commended him for demonstrating more self-mastery than most visitors she'd met in the past few days. "I'm glad we could come to a concord."

"Likewise, it was a pleasure, my Lady," the man politely lowered his head before calling out to the assistants busying themselves behind him. "Please prepare the Lady's purchases."

"I'll hold these myself," she preempted one of the employees before they could ask if there was a servant or address they could deliver Tarou and his accessories to. "Thank you for your time."

Draudillon walked away with a spring in her stride, hay-filled carrying cage in hand, and Yuriko a step behind with their newly acquired Bunnia. The merchant got his money; she and her beloved left with, if not the best deal, one that left them with a smile. All things considered, the interaction had even been fun

"—sorry."

"What was that, dear?" She came to a stop, guiding Yuriko further from traffic and closer to the buildings that lined the street. "Forgive me, I was a little preoccupied."

"I'm sorry," Tarou squeaked as the angel tightened their hold. "I was being selfish."

Sel—huh? "I… could you elaborate?"

" 'Cause you were arguing about the price, and…" Yuriko swallowed, shoulders rounded and lips wavering. "It was really troublesome, wasn't it?"

Were those words to come from a noble or merchant, she would've immediately arrived at the conclusion that they were trying to guilt-trip her into further concessions or absolving them of some debt. Such behavior was common in the Court of the Draconic Kingdom and the surrounding nations.

But Yuriko was genuinely worried that they had angered her with their request. They were genuinely distraught with themselves because of the possibility that asking for a Bunnia was too 'selfish.'

"Yuriko, that's not—it's not like that," she started, stopped, sighed, and continued. "If you want a pet and can provide appropriate accommodations without putting your surroundings in danger, then you shouldn't concern yourselves over what others say. I just… I just want you to understand that this animal will rely on you for everything. It's a world apart from the people you've helped—and don't misunderstand, we're grateful for that. I'm grateful for that, for you simply being by my side, but our exclusive well-being isn't your sole responsibility unlike Tarou's."

Her beloved raised their head and used Tarou to wipe the wetness from brown eyes flickering gold.

"I love you, okay? Always," Draudillon fondly stroked Yuriko's nape. "Even when I'm upset, I'll still love you just as much. And this outing has been relaxing thus far, so you don't have to wonder whether I'm enjoying my time with you or not."

"… me too," Yuriko held out Tarou, closing the small distance between them as they did. "Do you wanna hold him, Drau?"

"My hands are full," she shook the cage. "Maybe later."

"I could hold the cage for you," they reached out for the steel container. "Then you can hold Tarou."

'How unrelenting,' Draudillon wordlessly passed the cage to Yuriko and accepted the Bunnia. He was incredibly soft and calm too given that he'd just gone from a comparatively peaceful home to the arms of two strangers wandering a street filled with people much larger than him. 'Are they bred for stupidity? Docility? Something the beastmen were in the process of doing until Yuriko's abrupt interruption. He's cute though, I suppose.'

"He takes after his owner," Draudillon only said the last bit out loud. Calling the angel's pet stupid didn't sound uplifting at the present moment. "Should we deliver him back home?"

"Eh… wouldn't sending an angel really stick out?"

"We'll place everything somewhere inconspicuous and have one of them pick it up," she nodded towards a stall selling roasted skewers. "Honestly, dropping these anywhere works too. Pretend we left our belongings behind, and the rest is simple."

"Leaving Tarou by himself seems kinda bad," Yuriko frowned, drumming a beat on the World-Item-containing-satchel at their side. "Can we carry him with us and just leave the cage and stuff for the summons?"

"If that puts you at ease," they drew nearer to the skewer stall, the scent of grilled meats, vegetables, and fruits growing stronger with each step. "Do you want anything in particular, dear?"

"Chicken with onions, peppers, uh—two of them—then another but with beef and pork too?" Yuriko looked from the stall owner to her. Draudillon tilted her head and smiled at the angel while the owner did his best to not stare at her chest. "Those too."

The owner stared at Yuriko like they were some exotic beast; a description which wasn't too far from the truth, to be fair. "A-Are you sure, ma'am?"

"Yeap," her beloved lowered the cage onto the ground and counted out four copper coins that came out of nowhere. "Thank you." Draudillon looked askance at them as they held one to her mouth. "Since you're holding Tarou, Drau."

'In public…' Whatever, she was past shame at this point, so why not dive all the way in? The dragon queen extended her neck, biting and slipping off a chunk of chicken from the stick while handily ignoring the stall owner's confused gawking. Seasoning was a bit excessive for her appetite at the moment, but—it was good. Street food tended to be that way, she guessed. "We'll have to remember to come here again, hm?"

"Mmgh," Yuriko agreed through a closed mouthful of pork and various peppers before gulping the mass down. "I'd really like that."

They did spend most of their meals with her, after all. Draudillon felt slightly guilty, though the feeling was quickly replaced by a fuzzy warmth that had nothing to do with the Bunnia in her arms.

"Uh, excuse me! You two left something… h…" The owner's voice joined the bustling of the street, too far away for her to hear; although, Yuriko probably could. 'I should test the full limits of her standard physical capabilities someday.'

Stamina was a strange one for them, Draudillon absently pondered while an Archangel Flame flew overhead to moderate acclaim. Mana exhaustion barely affected Yuriko, but other… activities had them fighting for air. 'Stress and excitement play a part, perhaps?'

"It's got the cage," Yuriko conversationally informed her. "Should I make it take a detour or drop it off away from the castle…?"

"Straight to the castle," it was strange—her beloved's lifeforce wasn't predicated on banal necessities like breathing, yet they still did. Habit formed from over two decades as a human? She imagined choosing not to breathe despite not needing to would be discomfiting. "Most people won't notice it's headed there from here, and those that do are free to follow us if they want."

"Sounds dangerous," there was a sudden urge to make the angel's heart race, feel the organ pound beneath her touch, the heat of their flushed skin, and a multitude of other exquisite reactions—later, later. "I mean, usually you wouldn't want spies and stalkers hanging around, y'know?"

"They'll learn to bribe you with chicken skewers," Draudillon warned with every ounce of severity she could muster. "Then the kingdom will be in dire straits while our neighbors take advantage of this knowledge."

"That's not funny, Drau…" The quirking of their lips said otherwise. "Maybe you're just more used to it than me."

"Not just maybe; I am. True privacy is a rarity in this sort of position," and foreign agents were an annoyance all nations had to suffer. So long as they didn't cross any lines, or at least weren't caught crossing any lines, spies were grudgingly tolerated because the amount of work required to completely root them out simply wasn't worthwhile. "Your angels can catch them in places they aren't supposed to be, but there's many who may as well be ordinary citizens, you see? We currently lack the manpower to observe each and every mildly suspicious person."

"So you're gonna catch them in the future?"

"It depends. For the most part, the information they send is harmless since the two most valuable records—your notes and my Wild Magic—are respectively kept in your Item Box and unrecorded," Draudillon readjusted Tarou's position in her arms. "Even if we did have the effort to spare, there's more efficient ways of spending it. Of course, catching saboteurs remains a priority, but we haven't had to deal with serious cases of that in… a while."

The beastmen never bothered, though she had an inkling they might've started to if the war went on for longer, and the neighboring human nations at least weren't so foolish as to sabotage their primary bulwark against the demihuman republic.

"So it's sorta like, 'can't be helped?' Unless we keep track of everybody all the time, but that sounds," Yuriko twisted their mouth to one side. "Bad. I don't think people should lose their privacy just because a few guys wanted to snoop around."

"To a degree. Some loss of privacy is inevitable if we want to develop and maintain an accurate understanding of the kingdom's status," Slane had something similar through their diligently kept census, which was understandable considering the Player lineages she was almost certain they possessed. Unless the Six Great Gods were all akin to Yuriko in terms of preferences, though that still left their old equipment. "Focusing on the protection of sensitive information would serve us better in the long-run."

"Makes sense," her beloved nodded. "Would've been nice if I'd taken more stuff with me from Yggdrasil… mercenary books, equipment, potions… blah."

"You couldn't have known."

"I know, I get that, but it's like winning a gamble and then feeling bad you didn't bet more," Draudillon thought the comparison was a tad faulty; a gamble wasn't much of one when you weren't aware you'd been participating. "Not that I'm not happy! What I have now, it's…"

She watched them vaguely gesture at the surroundings. "It's good. And well, I—sometimes I wonder what it'll be like if I had to go back, and I don't think I can.

"It feels selfish, kinda," Yuriko self-deprecatingly smiled. "Because if I'd known life could have all these amazing things, I would've wished for a lot more. I wouldn't have let myself accept the shit back in my old world, y'know? Heh, who am I kidding? I couldn't have done anything—"

"Whether or not you were in a position to change the state of your life then, you're here now," the dragon queen firmly interjected before they could continue that spiraling thought. "I don't mean to imply those experiences are meaningless, because they're absolutely not, but these amazing things you cherish now… Most of those are here. Here, in a place where you've become a person who can dictate what is permitted to exist and what isn't."

Draudillon breathed in.

"I'll say this again: it's okay to be more selfish. It's okay to desire more. After everything you've given to others, after putting the needs of complete strangers before your own despite the life you endured, isn't it fine to at least freely express what you want? Tarou, for example. Sure, I was—am—concerned about his welfare, but I'm happy you wanted and asked for him."

The angel hugged her from behind, forcing the both of them into an awkward gait. "I wanna spend more time with you, Drau. More meals together, talking together, uh, d-doing stuff together—"

"Stuff, you say?"

"…" Yuriko buried their face in her back. "Drau's a meanie."

"I can be meaner. Cruel even," she returned with a lighthearted snark, hearing hints of a streetside musician. "Come this way; there's a bard performing. You haven't properly heard one yet, have you?" Draudillon shushed them before they could argue the point. "No, the Frost Giants don't count."

They released their hold, catching up to her side as the dulcet tones of singing and strumming grew clearer. Unsurprisingly, it was a song regaling military triumphs with all the embellishments and exaggerations that entailed. She appreciated the martyrs of the kingdom, she truly did, but even an adamantite adventurer couldn't single-handedly rout the old Rajan of Clan Kroh'or—to say less of the ordinary man.

Yuriko seemed to be entertained though, even dropping a few silver coins into the red lute-case after the song was finished. The dragon queen made a mental reminder to strongly impress the relative value of the Draconic Kingdom's currency upon them.

"I thank you for the generosity, my Lady!" The bard, clad in a bright-colored cloak and topped with a stylish hat, beamed. "Is there perhaps some trifle this humble traveler can grant you in return?"

"Could you… mm. Can you sing a poem about her?" Yuriko leaned into her side, hand tightly clenching the back of her blouse. They—she hadn't expected this. Payback for the mild teasing from earlier? Draudillon resolved herself to not grant even the tiniest mote of 'mercy' to her beloved afterwards. "Something, y'know… s-something cute, I guess."

'Shouldn't I be the one who's embarrassed?'

"Oh? A close friend of yours, my Lady?" The bard grinned, deft fingers softly plucking a scale from the instrument's strings. "It's heartening to see such a bond transcend the word 'distance' in all its meanings."

He was probably referring to Yuriko's southern appearance; although, it was amusing to think the kind of distance he had in mind fell unbelievably short of reality.

"W-Well, we are friends," the angel shot a quick glance at her. "But we're more, um, it's—we're more than that."

"She's courting me," Draudillon bluntly laid it out. This was a good chance to see where the kingdom stood on the issue from a ground-level, and she wasn't keen on being vague about the details of their relationship even while disguised. "So yes, very close."

And if she found her beloved's spluttering endearing, then that was no one's concern but her own.

"Much bolder than she appears, eh?" The dragon queen throttled the urge to throttle him as he tossed a suggestive wink towards Yuriko. Bards would be bards, she reminded herself. On the other hand, he deserved some credit for not changing his tune like most of the small crowd had— "To court a lady as charming as yourself would be daunting for anybody."

"Our first meeting was her intruding into my residence uninvited," Draudillon mused, pushing unwelcome thoughts aside. "Bold is a fitting descriptor."

"Uh—" His playing faltered, eyes blinking while he tried to reconcile the dissonance between the woman she was describing and the tomato-faced one hiding a half-step behind her. "She must have been quite enamored to err, pursue you so ardently."

"I thought it would've been more awkward to go through the gates!" Yuriko pitifully whined. "Like, I was new to everything, y'know?"

"You mean breaking into strangers' houses uninvited was normal for you?" She muttered under her breath such that only the angel could hear.

"N-No!"

"In any case," their byplay was cut short by a cough from the bard. "I do believe I have just the piece to satisfy the lady!"

The twanging from his lute swelled, his playing seamlessly—or close enough to seamlessly—transitioning to a calm rhythm that flowed, subtly pulling and pushing in ways that soothed yet demanded attention. 'Can't form a conclusive judgment from just this, but he has the expertise to belong in a noble's retinue. Well, I suppose I don't care enough to look too deeply into his circumstances.' Didn't mean she wouldn't look at all.

His eyes were squeezed shut in concentration, fingers ceaselessly picking away at the lute, and finally sang:

A hundred years, spring and winter grow faint,

I don't dare tempt the dragons,

The beasts of the forests and plains,

Or those without breath.

But how else shall we reacquaint?

How else can my heart gladden,

For it to endure this pain,

These sighs that so enwreathe?

I dream of your tresses, like shuttled brocade,

Flashes of light not unlike gilded jade.

Your pearlescent touch like the wake of dawn,

Which rallies forth the adoring host.

To see you is to rouse spring,

To embrace you is to defy winter.

A hundred years pass in a day,

A breath, a sigh, an embrace.

With the last line complete, he dramatically sighed and shook his head to the polite clapping of the gathered audience. Some of the people did so grudgingly, but Draudillon figured she'd reflect upon that later.

"That was good!" Yuriko energetically applauded as if the mortification of a few minutes prior had been a lie. The angel caught her gaze, looking to her for confirmation. "Even I understood it, Drau."

'His playing is decent, but the poetry could use some work… that being noted, it wasn't unpleasant,' the composition in verse was a rough mixture of a couple other semi-notable poems, but for her to expect a masterful improvisation on the spot, even if the street performer in question was this skilled, would be a little excessive. On the other hand, one could also attribute it to the bard 'understanding' their audience and choosing to avoid obscure works with abstruse phrasing. "I'm glad you enjoyed it, dear."

"Thank you, thank you," he tipped his wide-brimmed cap, half-smiling while glancing her way. "Though I wonder what your ladylove thought of it."

"Drau! What do you think?" Draudillon cursed the bard in her head. There was absolutely no need for him to play matchmaker when the match had already been made. Hypothetically, even if she hated the piece—which she didn't!—it wasn't as if she could say 'actually, I thought your singing and playing were awful.' Maybe matchmaking was the wrong term; this was more like forcing somebody to give a glowing endorsement— "Drau?"

"It was a wonderful performance," she mirrored Yuriko's praise back to the bard. "Do you think you could perhaps write it down? If it isn't too much trouble, of course."

"I'm afraid I hadn't the foresight to carry parchment with me, my Lady," the bard scratched his neck and apologized. "Though I could recall the lines if some were to be provided, the tune was still an improvisation, you see…"

"That's a shame," not particularly; if Yuriko loved poetry so much, she'd write her a whole book but better and not aped from some trite anthology. As for the transcription of the melody and harmony, that could be left to somebody with proper training. "Again, I did find the whole experience rather delightful." She directed to the angel more so than the bard. "Let's go."

Draudillon calmly walked off, arms growing numb from carrying Tarou. He wasn't heavy; it was just that having her arms locked in position for an extended period didn't do the limbs any favors. 'We've been walking around for a while now; where to next…?'

Surprisingly, she felt less tired than she would've expected from wandering about for this long. Not by much, but it was noticeable. "Can you hold him again for a while?"

"Tarou~ Come here~" Yuriko happily cradled the creature against their chest. "I'm glad we saw the parade before getting him."

'She's cheered up again,' the dragon queen warmly watched the two interact. "Indeed. On that note, we might need to find a separate room for you."

Yuriko faltered. "W-Wait, why do we need to do that?"

"I'm not suggesting this because I want us to spend time apart," Draudillon nipped the misunderstanding in the bud. "You've been acquiring quite the collection as of late, and I thought you'd like to have the option of organizing your possessions however you wish."

"Oh," her beloved fell quiet for a moment. "Your room is really big though, Drau. Bigger than my old apartment kinda big. It doesn't feel super crammed to me, but if my clutter is bothering you, I'm cool with shuffling some stuff."

"You're still going to be sharing my bed."

"Eh?! Spoiled…!"

A puff of air escaped past her lips. "Unless you'd rather not."

"Not spoiled…"

"Mmmhm."

They continued threading the streets of Oriculo, chatting about a variety of topics: meaningless things that filled her up nonetheless. And that was perfectly fine, she thought, because to exchange words solely for the sake of exchanging affection had never made it onto her list of priorities, and now that she had countless chances, it became a balm she couldn't live without.

"I'm not much of a drinker; always got water or juice at the company parties—"

"—I swear I gotta go chat her up!"

Draudillon ignored the passerby's leering remark and poked Yuriko's shoulder, dragging their attention away from a person who just narrowly avoided certain calamity. "As you were saying?"

"… I think I need to use the restroom," Yuriko shoved Tarou back into her arms. "I'll be back in a bit."

"You—" The dragon queen sighed, the angel already running off chasing after somebody. She caught a flash of blond hair styled in a sickeningly familiar fashion, and immediately felt a wave of exhaustion wash over her. "You can't use it even if you wanted to…"

Conveniently, there was a fountain close by: one replicated from beastmen 'donations' by the Magician's Guild and the burgeoning Royal Institution of Magic. Somewhere off in the direction where Yuriko ran, she and those nearby heard scuffling—shit, should she have gone with them?

Shouting arose, and the impact of a body slamming into and through a building brought a momentary lull to the hubbub of the festivities.

'Oh, come on.'

A crowd began to gather, loudly eager to see the cause of commotion, before a flight of Archangel Flames descended and dispersed the onlookers. Draudillon didn't see the prime angel themselves though. "Godsdammit."

This was why she didn't want those two encountering each other without her present, but in the end, it seemed that an altercation was unavoidable. Gods forbid, she was the farthest thing from protective of that pig, but her personal feelings did little to change the reality of his reputation both within the Draconic Kingdom and abroad.

'I need to go find her.'

Well.

She couldn't see Yuriko in the midst of this gathering. A summon then—to lead her to their master.

Hah…

She just hoped this day wouldn't conclude with the 'Goddess' snuffing out the 'Fierce Flash.'


"What are we still doing here?" Cerabrate was half-listening to Amrel's complaints as he chewed on a piece of flatbread topped with ground meat and cheese. It was kind of hard, trying to eat while waving and grinning to the admirers that beheld the team. Even adamantite-ranked adventurers had a reputation to maintain; although truthfully speaking, he didn't really care whatever the hell anybody else thought of him save for Her Majesty. "Just finished rolling out functional Docucopier, onboarding new sign-ups for the Institution, writing funding proposals, and now I have to chaperone you…"

"Nothing's wrong with attending a festival, Ams," the swordsman exasperatingly threw his free arm up into the air. "Angels," gods, thinking about the angels upset him. "Aren't bothering us. We haven't been smited out of nowhere or some shit—plus, you didn't have to come with me either."

"Damn, well I'm really fucking sorry that I'm trying to keep your ass alive," Crystal Tear's resident wizard angrily mumbled. Must be that time of the month on top of the extra work she was doing in that institution Her Majesty was establishing. There was also her cousin to take into account: the Prime Minister if the holy knight recalled correctly. "Asshole."

"Look, I appreciate you looking out for the group—for me—and being careful is great since we're, you know, adventurers, but does it make sense for us of all people to be banned from the Draconic Kingdom's capital?" He tried to walk Amrel through his logic. For all the spellcaster's intelligence, there were numerous times where they missed the obvious. "Crystal Tear held the frontline against the beastmen for years, and then we get kicked out of Oriculo? Does that make sense to you?"

"This isn't about that, and you know it," she hissed under her breath. "Don't conflate the two."

"I'm not abandoning Queen Oriculus," Cerabrate held tight to his determination. Devotion, real devotion, wasn't extinguished by an inconvenience as minor as a false god holding his love hostage. "If I was going to do that now, I would've done it a long time ago."

"You're…" Amrel's face twisted, switching through a variety of warped expressions. "Argh, why didn't I just go with Cas and Alvarin?"

Because it'd been some time since the team last had the chance to relax at a celebration this large, all four agreed to split up and enjoy the day however they saw fit. At first, Cerabrate was surprised the spellcaster wanted to hang around him, considering the dislike she harbored, and then he sadly found out it was to 'keep him out of trouble.'

'When was the last time I broke the law?' He indignantly thought. 'Almost getting kicked out of a tavern a couple months ago? Property damage in a fucking warzone? Oh, I guess I did heal some folks without permission from the temples.'

Besides that, the holy knight sincerely believed pinning any kind of legitimate wrongdoing on him would require stretching the truth to a laughable extent. "You can go find them if you want; nobody's stopping you, Ams."

"In this crowd?" She boggled at him. "What, you want me to scry them or something? Leave you alone and let you get into trouble?"

"I won't, I won't."

"Really? Tell me then: say we run into Queen Oriculus with Lady Yuriko. What are you going to do?"

"Make sure Her Majesty is okay, obviously," creases formed on Cerabrate's forehead. "I'm not looking for a fight—just an opportunity to talk with her alone, see if she's in trouble or being forced, you get me?"

Amrel squatted down, closed her eyes, and pressed her palms together before taking a heavy breath.

"What the fuck. I—" his scowl deepened. Was he the only person who cared? Did the rest of this team forget the kindness Queen Oriculus had shown them on so many occasions? "No. Just no. Don't do that; I'm serious. Cerabrate, leader, I know you're dead set on this, and I wouldn't really care about you having an audience with the Queen if the circumstances were different," gee, thanks Ams. "Still, that doesn't mean I want to see you die, you damn idiot."

'I guess I can understand that feeling,' how many times had he himself put his life on the line for his comrades? How many more times had they done the same? With that in mind, the holy knight calmed the storm raging within. "I'll be chill about it. No starting fights or anything with the lady who turned the beastmen into roast brisket. I'm not that stupid."

Cerabrate wasn't planning on fighting, but neither could he let the woman he loved fall prey to another predator: one possibly more sinister than even the Beastman Country. Abandoning Her Majesty to such a fate made his stomach turn.

In an fathomless sea of slaughter, her innocence had saved him. It was Queen Oriculus, in all her child-like earnesty, who gave purpose to the power bestowed upon him by the gods. It was the Dragon Queen who lifted him up from the depraved lifestyle so many of his colleagues sought and into the hero he was recognized as today.

For Her Majesty's sake, he would challenge the world itself, struggle against the harshest odds, traverse heaven and hell. For her sake, he needed no wealth, prestige, comfort, or even fame, but just that divine smile the 'Goddess' wished they could imitate.

A word of praise was akin to the holiest of sacraments; the slightest graze, ecstasy that transcended base pleasure to become a virtue unto itself. Perhaps one day, albeit a distant day surely, they might even…

He heaved a sigh, ignoring Amrel's glowering. Fantasizing about sharing a bed with the wondrously petite Queen could wait until after he ensured her well-being.

'Shit, now my mood's ruined again…'

As he ruminated over how he was going to discreetly meet with Queen Oriculus, his gaze caught a pair of women immersed in conversation: the taller, curvy blonde serenely listening to the energetic chattering of her shorter, black-haired friend—a southerner by the looks of it despite her paleness—holding a… Bunnia? He didn't think the thick of a hectic festival was the healthiest environment for the creature.

The holy knight entertained the idea of approaching the two and giving some friendly advice. It was always irksome to see new pet owners make mistakes, but he understood most didn't mean anything malicious by it.

Just as Cerabrate was about to take the first step towards them, a gratingly familiar group passed the women, one among the mercenaries' ranks wolf-whistling as they did.

"You see that, Optics?" The bulky man responsible, Sergin Volnikel, elbowed that fucking guy. "She's got them deep dish lady bits, y'hear? I'm talkin' get lost in them big. Gods-damn, I swear I gotta go chat her up!"

"Save it for the brothels," Virima, a sun-kissed elven ranger from the Charsis Steppes, tiredly murmured. "No, wait. Didn't you already pay them a visit last night?"

"Ain't the same, and you know it! Gyahahaha!"

Optics, one of the greatest human swordsmen in this corner of the world and leader of Blazing Crimson, tutted. "Could you cut that out? We've been hired to re-evaluate the situation in the Draconic Kingdom, not end up in prison because you were being disruptive. Gethell and Monicil already ran into trouble with the local authorities; we don't need you to add to our problems."

'Hired to reevaluate?' Hot anger burned inside Cerabrate at his contemporary's callous statement. Expecting integrity from a Worker was like expecting a beastman to not eat children. People died because they put money above the good of others. Queen Oriculus suffered because of that same selfishness, and now the bastard was saying he returned only because some third party had paid him to.

Hell if he was going to let that go unanswered.

"Oi. Optics. Didn't think you'd have the balls to show your damn face around here."

"Cerabrate…" Amrel gritted the warning through clenched teeth. Naturally, he paid no heed to her. Some insults couldn't be brooked. "Here's not the best place for this…"

"Fierce Flash," the dark-skinned sword master granted the title 'Crimson' stopped, turning to pierce the holy knight with razor-sharp hazel eyes. Blazing Crimson as a whole came to a halt too, each member curiously staring at the adventurer who'd called out to them. "It's an honor to meet you, the hero of the Draconic Kingdom, during this time of celebration. Lady Asturias as well."

In spite of, or maybe thanks to Optics' calm diplomacy, Cerabrate felt his anger intensify. How dare they have the nerve to strut the streets of Oriculo so shamelessly when they abandoned the kingdom the moment the beastmen unleashed their full offensive? How dare he pretend to a facade of honor now?

"Yeah? You enjoying Queen Oriculus's hospitality? Having fun harassing civilians?" Cerabrate's voice adopted a jeering tone. "Mercenary trash like Blazing Crimson wouldn't be allowed to raise your heads high anywhere else but in this kingdom thanks to Her Majesty's kindness, and it's wasted on you bunch."

"That's… very nice and all," Optics arched an eyebrow, off-put by the sudden aggression. "I'd argue it's a result of the Guild's branches in the Draconic Kingdom being subsumed by the kindly Queen you speak of—alongside sheer pragmatism, of course."

The ebony sword master scratched his beard. "Though I guess you're not really interested in hearing me speak on that topic. Ah, and to answer your question, yes, we are indeed enjoying the Dragon Queen's hospitality—"

Optics narrowly dodged the fist rushing towards him, sighing while he did so. "Is this necessary? If it's about what Sergin said to that woman, I'll ensure there won't be a repeat incident."

During the past few months, Cerabrate had suffered the depravations of the wilderness, struggled and bled under the claws of savage demihumans, witnessed the arrival of the heavenly hosts and their mysterious agenda—not to mention every minor burden, responsibility, irritation piling up in between.

So no, it wasn't necessary, but he needed to release this stress somehow. Optics and his coterie of punks had graciously volunteered when the sword master mocked Her Majesty, and who was he to turn them down?

"You don't know shit about 'necessary,' " Cerabrate grabbed Optics by their shirt and threw them through the air, crashing through a flimsy door, to the screams and shouts of spectators. "While people were busy being eaten, what the hell were you doing?"

"For one, I wasn't risking my team's lives just to suck the toes of a little girl," Optics accepted Sergin and Virima's hands and pulled himself up. "Since you're this eager to receive a few pointers, I'll correct that aberrant lust of yours."

"Try me, bastard," 'Fierce Flash' gritted his teeth as 'Crimson' lashed out with their feet, landing a sharp kick to the holy knight's gut. Unfortunately for the sword master, a foot wasn't a sword, and Cerabrate's constitution was exceptional even among adamantite adventurers.

Behind him, Amrel was yelling again. He paid her no heed as he grabbed Optics leg, yanking the dark-skinned man forward into a brutal headbutt.

The holy knight didn't stop there; he heaved the groaning Worker overhead and slammed them into a table that snapped under the force of the impact. "Who's correcting who now, huh?!"

His head exploded with pain, vision filled with spots, before Cerabrate groggily noticed Optics was standing again with a piece of broken furniture in hand.

"Fuuu…" The sword master wasn't looking at him. Cerabrate took the opportunity to lay a hand over his breast, channeling the gentle light from the wellspring of his soul throughout the minor wounds he'd sustained. "Fucking hell. Angels are here."

Indeed, Archangel Flames had cordoned off the area and were drawing near to the brawlers. The civilians gave the summons a wide berth; everyone was carefully keeping an eye on the shards of pure flame the angels wielded.

"What was that about 'adding problems,' boss?" Sergin's entire bulk shook with laughter. "Wanna make a run for it?"

"If you want to be chased down like a crippled kaama, go for it," the elf pulled up a chair and slumped against it to the tense stares of the restaurant's patrons. "We should've left the moment Sir Pedobate tried to talk shit."

Amrel snorted, much to his annoyance. 'Stupid fucking joke.'

He couldn't help it if Her Majesty in all her delicate flatness was alluring in a way no other woman could match.

"I apologize for the disruption," Amrel lowered her head to the proprietor of the restaurant who had rushed down the stairs during the fight's onset. "Crystal Tear will cover any and all expenses incurred."

She wetted her lips and turned to the Workers of Blazing Crimson next—but not before shooting him a vicious glare. "Forgive us for Sir Cerabrate's outburst. Recent months have been trying what with the beastmen and their depravities… we'll take responsibility for everything that happened here, so please feel free to leave the investigatory procedures to us."

"Why are we apologizing?" He grumbled under his breath. Apparently that had been the wrong thing to say because Amrel's gaze was positively murderous now. 'We're the heroes. Calling assholes out on their shit; when did that become wrong? Sure, there's a lil damage, but we would've paid for it.'

"Thank you, Lady Asturias," Optics bowed lowly, leaving the chunk of table on the debris-ridden ground. "I'm heartened to see reasonable minds prevail."

"Fuck this shit," Cerabrate couldn't take anymore of this farce. "I'm out."

"Where do you think you're—forget it," Amrel bitterly chuckled to herself. "I'll handle this myself. You'd just screw things up anyway, ass."

He stormed out the restaurant, picking off a few strands of noodles sticking to the front of his shirt. The angels let him through, barely paying him any notice even while he was certain the 'Goddess' would take this as another opportunity to cement her position.

'Damn Workers,' the holy knight didn't know where he was going, feet taking him elsewhere without a specific destination in mind. Oriculo was a city he knew like the back of his hand, yet he felt thoroughly lost. 'Amrel's changed ever since Almersia too. Bet the 'Goddess' got their claws in her.'

His heart welled up with guilt. The spellcaster didn't deserve such harshness, and who knew how they were being manipulated by the angel? The sweet fruits of temptation offered freely had everyone eating out the palm of the 'Goddess's' hand—resurrections, free healing… it was a ruse to enthrall the entire kingdom. Separate them from other figures of authority who she would replace, leaving her as the sole beacon humanity would place their trust in.

Cerabrate's nails bit deeply into his palms as he agonized over the character of the being who'd enraptured the Draconic Kingdom. Countless believed her to sit among the highest ranks of the gods' emissaries, some thought her a fellow deity of the Four or Six, but would a principled god impoverish the temples and servants of her peers?

He found a bench in a relatively empty spot and sat down.

"Can't really blame them…" She was honored because she accomplished what nobody else had. Ultimately, the holy knight could only blame his own weakness.

That wasn't much reassurance though.

"Hi," Cerabrate startled at the unexpected greeting from an unfamiliar voice. "Cerabrate, right? Fierce Flash or something?"

'Fuck, I'm really out of it if I didn't even notice her sneak up on me,' he relaxed upon realizing it was just some random woman, probably an admirer, and not an assassin. A true professional would've taken the chance to strike while he had still been distracted. 'Huh. Isn't she that lady I saw earlier?'

"Um, excuse me? Are you listening?"

"Yes to both questions," Cerabrate forced himself to concentrate as the black-haired girl sat next to him. "I'm afraid I never caught your name, Miss…?"

"Hanami Yuriko," weird name, but it fit what little he knew of conventions down south—wait. "Given name Yuriko, that is. Although I guess people call me a lot of different things nowadays."

"You're kidding me," their appearance couldn't be more divergent from the angel's. Plus, Cerabrate had zero illusions about his status compared to the Lady of Wings'; if she summoned him for a private meeting, the only option was obedience. There was no reason for her to go through the trouble of preparing a disguise worthy of a doppelganger's. "Lady, it's one thing to be grateful, but pretending to be the Goddess is asking for trouble. Where's that friend of yours? The one holding the Bunnia. She's probably worried about you—"

"Could you shut up?"

Buried in that casual request was a severity fiercer than the roars of lords and the thundering of an army's hooves. Faced with such authority, an authority imposed upon the most primal instinct, by one dignified and conferred many honors through their matchless strength, Cerabrate shut up.

"Great. Thank you," the woman retrieved an orb from her satchel. It was a magic item he'd never seen, but instead had heard, the likes of: as if the gods deigned to shape a portion of the night sky into physical form. "I was a little rude there, wasn't I? You're probably wondering why I'm up in your face too."

She took his clammy expression as acknowledgement of her identity and returned the sphere to the leather satchel. "There were a lot of things I wanted to say, and most of it was really angry," shit, was he going to die? "But looking at you, sitting beside you right now, pretty much all of that felt pointless, y'know? This whole mess… it's not me who has the right to be upset."

"Lady Yuriko," Cerabrate gulped, struggling to hold onto his earlier resolve that now seemed so distant. "I apologize, but may I ask what I have done to incite your ire? This humble knight wishes to make amends if he's trespassed against you."

"… You don't even know what you did wrong," disappointment had never sounded this deadly. One wrong step, and the holy knight figured his life was forfeit. "Haaah, I'll just get to the point: stay away from Drau. I'm—both of us—are grateful for your help against the beastmen, and I don't wanna take away from that, but you gotta keep your distance. She's too nice and worried about other people to say anything herself, so I'll repeat myself: stay away from her. It's really creepy."

"By 'Drau,' is Lady Yuriko referring to Queen Oriculus?" He felt blasphemous referring to his beloved Queen so casually, yet his heart ardently throbbed when he imagined a scenario where Her Majesty deemed him worthy. 'And this 'Goddess' has the audacity?'

For a second, he wondered if the Dragon Queen had fallen in love with this despicable, thuggish woman who used their strength to bully others into compliance—and felt his core twist in torment at the possibility. 'Impossible. Her Majesty was coerced, or more likely, forced to sacrifice her dignity in a foul deal to save the Draconic Kingdom.'

It, everything, was because he, Fierce Flash, an adamantite adventurer who stood among the greatest champions of humanity, was too weak. While his lacking strength struggled against the demihuman hordes, Her Majesty must have been implacable with sorrow over the fate of her subjects.

All his doubts, the goodwill he had once been willing to extend to the Lady of Wings, were vanquished; and with it, his fears were consumed by the roaring fires of righteous indignation.

"Hey," the monstrous 'Goddess' crossly raised her voice. "Are you listening—"

"No."

"Wh-What?" She was taken aback at the firm rejection.

Cerabrate bristled with holy fury, bolstered by the angel's bewilderment. If he didn't take a stand now, then when? Even if she laid him low, it would at least be a sign to the world that she was not the ideal they believed her to be. "As a knight who serves the Four Gods, Her Majesty, and the Draconic Kingdom by extension, my will is beholden to another, O' Goddess."

"She's repaid you guys already!" The Lady of Wings drew more attention with her shouting. Cerabrate silently approved; a larger audience meant more witnesses the moment she lost control and shattered this shallow farce. "And she's planning a whole awards ceremony too, so just leave her alone, alright?!"

"So you can continue to have your way with her?" His will was steadfast, unwavering before an existence that made his appear bug-like. "You may have fooled most of the kingdom, giving them hope when they were at their lowest, but one day your wicked desires will come to light—this I swear as a knight of the divine."

"The fuck are you even talking about?!"

"If you possess even the slightest shred of decency, you will release Her Majesty from your clutches this very moment," he persevered. "A woman such as her deserves better than the fate you've devised."

"Shut up," a thin hand, almost pale to the point of ghoulishness, yanked him down by the collar with a strength belying her waifish build. "What do you know? What the hell do you know?"

Gold was less gold than those burning spheres. Whatever disguise had been concealing their true form was starting to unravel.

"Actually, you know what? Forget this," she spat to the side. "From this point forward, If I ever see you within a kilometer of her, you'll regret it."

"Then you best kill me where I stand," Cerabrate stubbornly matched that furious gaze with his own rage. "For as long as she suffers in your grasp, I won't rest."

He closed his eyes, waiting for the end that was certain to come. The powerful rarely suffered such insults without repayment.

"Motherfucker—"

"Dear, could you let go of him?" Words formed from an hauntingly familiar, yet vastly different, voice interrupted the 'Goddess.' Cerabrate quietly begged that they flee lest the angel's ire was directed towards them as well. But to call them with affection… no… it couldn't be… "There's people watching."

The black-haired, golden-eyed girl whose sheer presence had easily suppressed the holy knight hurriedly released him with all the obedience of a fearful recruit. "Dra-Drau! I just, it's not what it—"

"Yuriko Hanami," the blonde woman beckoned them hither, her mouth set in a severe line. "What are you doing beside him? Come here."

His oppressor bowed her head and trudged to their side. "Drau, I, I didn't mean to cause trouble."

"I'm aware, and you're not in any either," the woman who the angel was addressing as the Dragon Queen lifted her partner's chin. "So straighten your spine."

All the while, Cerabrate merely stared in dumb shock. How could Her Majesty treat the living calamity in such a domineering manner? No—he couldn't be sure that it was truly Her Majesty.

Queen Oriculus had black hair befitting of a dragon's scales, not flaxen strands common to the ordinary masses. She bore herself with the pure pride of a child, not this mature, womanly figure lesser men would lust after.

While he was still trying to wrap his head around the rapidly developing situation, the maybe-Queen mumbled something to the 'Goddess.' Shortly later, angels descended en masse and turned aside the gaping bystanders.

"This has become rather vexing," she clicked her tongue and spoke to herself. "In the end, it seems I couldn't escape confronting the consequences of my actions after all."

"Forgive me for my rudeness, but are you truly Her Majesty?" Cerabrate felt ill. If so, then what was with the obvious affection she was showing? Charm magic? Mind control? But would the 'Goddess' lower themselves like this? To accept ever being subservient to the weak without donning the mantle of a 'savior?'

"The angels weren't evidence enough?" The woman distractedly petted the Bunnia nuzzling the crook of her arm. "Although, I can't in good conscience fault diligence… how about this?"

A tremendous weight engulfed him and caused his knees to tremble. How could someone, who for all intents and purposes exuded the aura of an ordinary human, wield such presence? And surely it was the blonde and not the 'Goddess,' for recognition of the origin resonated deeply within him.

"Your Majesty!" Cerabrate hurried to his knees, only daring to keep his head up in order to keep an eye on any trickery the angel might pull. "I was impudent and blind for not recognizing your magnificence!"

He thought their current form was vastly inferior to their true body—another sin the angel had thrust onto the distressed Queen.

"It would be a poor disguise indeed if I were to be identified so easily," Queen Oriculus dismissively waved her hand; the motion was full of regal grandeur dispensed with an awe-inspiring nonchalance. "What's going on here?"

"He said—"

"Yuriko."

The 'Goddess' shut her mouth.

"Your Majesty," was he mistaken? He couldn't be. He didn't want to be. Didn't want to think about what that would mean. "Are you doing well? I find it good to do good, but with the… excitement gathering around the kingdom, I worried for your health and rushed to return at the most convenient time for Your Majesty."

"The award ceremony wasn't going to be for another week, so you needn't have rushed."

"How could I dare neglect my liege?" Cerabrate resolutely declared. It was now or never. He'd already offended the angel to her face anyway. "Especially when untrustworthy fellows seek to worm into Your Majesty's good graces!"

"Is that so?" His heart soared with the Dragon Queen's arched eyebrow. "Did we have such an arrangement, dear?"

Her addressee remained impertinently silent, glaring at him for throwing a stick into her spokes.

"Your concerns have been heard," Queen Oriculus returned her attention to him. "I can't say—hm. I shouldn't drag this on."

Both he and the 'Goddess' were visibly stricken with confusion. 'Drag this on?' How was Her Majesty planning to resolve this insurmountable challenge?

"Sir Cerabrate, I—" The holy knight's pulse raced in equal parts anticipation and anxiety. Queen Oriculus pinched the bridge of her nose with a sigh while the angel simultaneously squeezed both her shoulder and his heart. "To begin with: I'm sorry. For these past several years, the Draconic Kingdom—no, I have done you and your party a great disservice. That I attempted to repay Crystal Tear after Almersia's liberation doesn't change this fact."

"Drau…"

"Everything we did in service to the kingdom was done so with clear consciences, Your Majesty," Cerabrate didn't waste a second to comfort his Queen. "Defending the people and the crown is already a princely reward!"

"Let me continue," she bitterly smiled, an image driving knives into the knight's chest. "With the magic I inherited from my predecessor, I sought to deceive you. Commentary on your… preferences aside, I used my knowledge of that and repeatedly manipulated you to put Crystal Tear in great peril."

"Your Majesty should not apologize for seeking to defend her realm!" Even as an adult, that downtrodden expression made him want to embrace her, caress her with loving hands and dispel the maledictions clouding her spirit. "And to use your body, though regrettable, is understandable considering the unparalleled charm of Your Majesty's true form!"

Queen Oriculus's mouth twisted with a flash of emotion he failed to identify before returning to normal.

The holy knight's instincts trembled, but how could that be? He merely wished to reassure her that the crimes she thought herself to have committed were ones born of necessity.

"Then I must have mistook your past glances for something else," her words were frigid and hard. "For this is my true 'form.' "

"But with black hair," the 'Goddess' unhelpfully added.

"I understand Your Majesty has her reasons for saying what she must, whether it be truth or fiction," Cerabrate ignored the angel. This was their fault to begin with: driving Queen Oriculus to resort to falsehoods, demanding she adopt an appearance foreign to her—their sins stunk to high heaven. "I also implore Her Majesty to remember there are countless loyal servants willing to lay down their lives for her."

He hoped she would catch the masked meaning and draw confidence from the knowledge that there were those who saw her plight for what it was.

"Are you fucking serious…?" The vulgarity stunned him. How could language so foul come from lips so innocent? "Allow me to be blunt then."

Queen Oriculus narrowed her eyes, first with a rage Cerabrate had never imagined he'd be the target of, then with an exhaustion that gave the holy knight further pause.

"What you want from me, I will never give to you."

With those parting words, she spun on her heels and left, her departure quickly hidden by the mass of angels. The Goddess looked back and forth between them before finally leaving in pursuit of her… her partner. Lover.

Wordlessly, Cerabrate rose to his feet—he hadn't even noticed he was still on his knees—and aimlessly plodded away. There was no destination in mind; any place but here would suffice.

The inquisitive stares of the people now undeterred by the angels didn't bother him. He felt nothing would, not anymore. His will had been completely and utterly crushed by powers beyond his understanding.

"Oi!" A person called out to him, probably with the intention to mock and jeer. "Cerabrate! Why the hell did you… you look like shit."

Amrel crossed her arms. "Alright, let me hear it. Thinking about the Queen again? I already said you'd be better off dropping it."

His heart ached.

"I'm going to bed."

Because it was nothing at all.