The Villainess Is An SS+ Rank Adventurer

Barely seconds after signing Coppelia’s name on a waiver, the world skipped by in a haze of colour. 

The fact that I could see any colour was novel to me. In all my times being kidnapped by the fae, the process had been as swift as a click of a finger. Not this. 

As the walls of the Royal Institute blended and parted before me, it was all too similar to the sensation of being wildly prodded awake by my mother’s maids, who did so despite the fact that me smiling beautifully in my sleep meant I was technically working, and that they were therefore disturbing me while I was busy.

This was worse.

Snap.

Suddenly, a crack like a whip resounded in the air. 

A frightful noise which I only heard from those who commanded their steeds through brutishness, as opposed to the gentle touch and endless bribery of carrots I diverted to the royal stables. 

But I had little time to be alarmed by that. 

No … I was far more concerned with the wall approaching my face. 

Despite my training to remain as poised as any needle, my entire body lurched forwards, nausea practically gripping my knees as they buckled … and yet my hands could only reach for my mouth. 

After all, as uncomfortable as the effects of a teleportation spell breaching through several layers of magical defences and dumping me without being caught inside a brick was, that had only been terribly unpleasant. The same could be said for waking up beneath the ceiling of an inn.

Instead … what was truly wounding to my sense of equilibrium was my surroundings.   

I was no stranger to the eccentricity of mages. I expected their interior design choices to proudly lack any semblance of modern upkeep. But what I saw went well beyond the rainbow coloured chandeliers and paintings of my grandmother I imagined ruining the resale value of this tower.

Why … the décor … it was vile!

Proving once again that minimum standards were there to be failed, I saw not a hint of wildly clashing colours or bits of gaudy furniture summoned from a demon’s forgotten cellar.

Darkened stone made up the walls, scarcely lit by braziers emitting a pale flame sputtering like a candle dying in the wind. The furnishings were even bleaker. A granite slab hewn from a boulder and never chiselled down somehow forming a bed. 

Chains fell from the ceilings, their bindings rusted with decay and blood. A bucket lay upside down, the only sign of a welcoming committee as it lifted on its own accord to reveal a pair of scarlet eyes peeking up, before vanishing once more into its wooden hermit shell. 

All around me, the stench of stuffiness unvisited by any breeze or natural lighting suffocated my senses just as much as the iron bars which stood nearby.   

Why, if I didn’t know any better, I’d even say this was a … was a …

“Why are we in a dungeon … ?!”

As I felt my knees finally give way, Coppelia reached out with a hand to steady me. 

Yes … even as she used the other to fail at hiding the amusement from her lips.

“Hmmmmm? Are we in a dungeon? How sure are you about that?”

I glanced around myself in hope, then let out a tiny groan as even that brief flash was doused by a dribble of water from the ceiling.

Indeed … there could be no mistake!

An unwelcoming darkness made up of dampness, scratches in the walls and carefully crafted despair. A fitting home for the mages who failed to earn their keep in my kingdom … none of whom were here to share my disbelief at the accommodations!

“This … This is awful, Coppelia! How do we find ourselves in not only a dungeon, but a cell?!”

I could feel my princess points draining by the moment!

There was only one time it was appropriate for a princess to be in a dungeon cell–and that was moments before being dragged away by a peasant mob after losing a corruption trial! My next sight of daylight would be as I walked to the guillotine, hurling curses as I went!

Once again, my knees buckled, all my body giving way as I dramatically collapsed. 

Coppelia needed to use both hands this time. Particularly as her boundless amusement only helped to anchor down on me. 

“Don’t worry, us landing in a dungeon cell is a good thing!”

“H-How is that a good thing?!”

“It means we get to see we’re in a dungeon cell and not, say, inside the wall of said dungeon cell. Compared to the thousands of worst possible alternatives, this one is great!”

“This is the worst possible alternative. Perhaps not now, but certainly later. Had we been deposited at least into the hallway, we could waltz our way through while unfairly judging the decrepitness. To be held in a cell instead is an omen I’m not prepared to endure. Why, I can already taste the dust!”

“Eeeh, it’s not that bad. Look, you get your own bed! A whole bed. Some places just have bits of straw and whatever stuff the last guys left behind. This place is positively tidy!”

I pointed at the stone slab and shuddered.

“This is not a bed. It is an etiquette device used to correct bad posture.”

“Wait, you have tangible things for that?”

“When it comes to etiquette correction, anything exists. None are more severe in their roles than my tutors. After all, they must judge their own image.”

A shiver ran through me as the unwelcome memories flashed through my mind. My back straightened and shoulders loosened on perpetually trained instinct.

“Wow, I sort of thought you’d grown up super pampered, but I guess even you had rough days, huh … relatively speaking …. to other princesses  …”

I nodded gravely.

Then, I looked past the bars daring to keep us in. The dim braziers did little but reveal a narrow corridor to match the cells, shorn of even a cursory blood stain on the wall.

“The roughest days remain ahead, if this is what we must endure. Bleak and uniform. Even now, I can sense the efforts of those who designed this dungeon, claiming that since nobody important would ever visit, why bother putting in the effort? Well, here is the reason why–a modest 2/10.”

“Hey, you might be surprised! We haven’t even explored it.”

“There’s little to explore. In fact, this is the same dampness we experienced in Aquina Castle … it may even be the same design! A standard corridor made to offer no winding paths or corners to hide around, and with only a smattering of highly unnecessary vulnerabilities built in for spice.”

“Eh? What’s wrong with the classics?”

“Classics is merely a word for failure to keep up with modern trends. Sadly, this glorified school has a long way to go … and so do we, for that matter. This is an unacceptable distance from the upper floors we were promised!”

Indeed, I was appalled to have my faith answered by this!

I expected to be deposited to my destination with no qualms and possibly a basket of refreshments at the ready! But if this was the dungeon, then it suggested that far from being near the top, we may even be beneath the ground!

“I mean, I don’t think we were promised anything. Did you read the waiver?”

“No.”

“Well, there were a lot of important health warnings and legal stuff. Such as in the event of magical defences or unexpected contingencies occurring and an unreasonable risk of lifelong injury or death awaits as a result, we would instead be sent to the closest safe location.”

I raised a brow.

Frankly, I wasn’t certain that was achieved … at least not with the way the very tower threatened to come crumbling down the moment Coppelia finished stretching her legs.

“... You’re looking forward to this, aren’t you?”

“A prison break!” she said, beaming with joy. “I never thought I’d get to do this without being caught for a crime I neither officially acknowledge or admit to!”

I nodded. I had nothing to say. Especially if Coppelia didn’t.

“[Coppelia Kick]!”

Claaaang.

She spoke with a sweep of her leg instead.

Leaving the actual door to our cell untouched, a ringing cacophony instantly filled the dungeon as multiple bars came crashing to the floor. It echoed into the distance, the clamour made all the louder by the answering silence.

“Woooo!” Coppelia’s arms went to the air. “What a great start! Almost being teleported into a wall is terrifying but sort of thrilling! And breaking out of prison was definitely somewhere on my bucket list!”

I flicked my wrist as dust peppered the corridor.

Admittedly, beginning with property damage was a somewhat ominous sign … but that’s fine!

For one thing, this was my own property!

For another, so long as Coppelia was satisfied, then that was a worthy enough reason to commit to anything! The happiness would help reduce my weight and ease her burden as she carried me!

Now I just needed a moment to convince her and–

“Nope~”

“E-Excuse me! I didn’t even begin clearing my throat!”

“I can feel it. You’re gonna ask me how I feel about lugging you up a bunch of stairs.”

“Please, I would never be so crass,” I said, wondering which part of my opportunistic expression gave it away as I diverted to Plan Looking-Around-Myself. “Indeed, there’s no need! For where are we but the abode of mages? I see little reason to use the stairs when I’m certain the inhabitants must possess a magical shortcut.”

“Hmm … but wouldn’t the receptionist lady have mentioned something like that?”

“The herald of doom isn’t privy to the needs of those who reside at the top of towers. I am. Granted, it’s not something I use regularly … or ever, but should great need and circumstance require it, even I have a method to swiftly reach and exit my bedroom.”

“... Does it involve a catapult?” 

I pursed my lips.

“That depends on your definition of a catapult.” 

Coppelia giggled. That was good. She didn’t know that when the time came I needed to use Clarise’s Emergency Protocol Princess Propeller Device™, I’d need her waiting to catch me. And the impact would be significantly greater than any force she’d experienced thus far.

Clink. Clink. Clink.

Providing, of course, that we made it back to the Royal Villa.

Something which required the things which had awoken from our arrival to allow us to pass.

I peeked my head past the gap where the bars had been and squinted at the depths of the corridor. For a moment, all I saw was darkness.

And then I saw the same darkness move.

It revealed itself as armour more black than the hole in my sky, each heavy piece scraping and clawing at each other as they went. But it was not the rigid black steel which caught my attention.

It was the greatsword being drawn, its grim blade stifling any semblance of light which remained.

I expected nothing less.

After all–

Every dungeon needed a jailer. 

And ours was a knight in very unshining armour.