The Villainess Is An SS+ Rank Adventurer

The greatsword cleaved through the air.

Caught in the pale light of the braziers, its gleaming edge and length as it came down was akin to a guillotine rushing to take me. A dark and grim sight. But no more than the scythe which met it.

Clang!

Appearing amidst a flash of darkness, Coppelia’s weapon was still a haze of forming shadows as it blocked the oncoming cleave. A clamour to shame any falling piano echoed as two impractically sized weapons collided. Like a hammer striking an anvil, sparks lit up the darkness. And what I witnessed was the picture of my loyal handmaiden as she sought to defend my life and dignity.

I gasped and covered my mouth.

I … I was so touched!

Indeed, seeing the blade coming for my head without even a crowd baying for blood was abhorrent! This depressing dungeon was no placeto see a princess murdered! That was reserved for the town square outside filled with all the peasants I was given one last chance to hurl curses at!

Coppelia knew the wrongness of such impropriety. She cared for nothing but my honour!

Yes … even if the smile she wore was highly concerning!

“Alright buddy, it’s your lucky day! Since the last thing to kill you didn’t work properly, I’ll make sure mine does the job! Nobody compares me to a sword and unlives to tell the tale!”

The death knight made no response.

His head did, though. 

A polite chuckle echoed amidst the corridor as a pair of eyes burning within its visor watched from the ground, the helmet having rolled on its side.

“I relish the opportunity for a second valuation. Do I take that as a request to formally duel me?”

“I mean, I was more thinking along the lines of brawling with a side of wild stabbing.”

“The definitions are the same. Only the terminology is different.”

“In that case, sure! Let’s duel!”

The flames brightened. If eyes could smile, then there it was.

“Very well. Then I accept your challenge. But since I see that first blood is difficult in our case, I suggest the winning criteria to be more appropriate–”

Suddenly, the greatsword pulled away from Coppelia’s scythe with astonishing speed.

“–such as the first to fell the other.”

Belying its size, it swung around, ignoring the narrow width of the corridor to simply cleave through the wall like a letter opener accidentally tearing through envelopes marked as marriage correspondence.

The greatsword rushed to meet Coppelia. 

An agile strike filled with strength and accuracy. But it would take something swifter than a swinging blade to catch her … even if it was joined by a sweeping kick, the sole of those heavy greaves following the direction of his strike with enough force to topple a cave bear.

As Coppelia twirled her scythe to stop the oncoming blade, she also did a dainty hop as a black toed boot swept underneath, somehow pushing forwards even as she was momentarily in the air. 

The death knight immediately corrected his footing, trained instincts sending him to the side as the scythe came down, seeking to allow his arm to join the head on the floor. 

It caught the air instead as the warrior completely relinquished his weapon.

Allowing the scythe to pass harmlessly between them, he caught the greatsword before it even had the chance to drop. He then turned his guard to hook the returning swing with his hilt. With both weapons momentarily locked in place, he reached out with his gauntlet to swipe at Coppelia’s head.

Her eyes opened fractionally wider as she watched it brush against her ear. And then a tiny bit more as the greatsword then detached from her scythe, the pommel rushing to slam into her chin.

It collided with the waiting shaft of Coppelia’s scythe instead, before meeting the rest of it as she rapidly twirled. 

Trails of sparks rhythmically lit up the corridor as it spun against the guarding blade, before the clockwork doll swiped with enough strength to snip the tower in two. Deep, parallel gashes appeared on either side of the corridor, yet as agile as his strikes, the death knight ignored his heavy armour to withdraw like a dancing fencer. 

It didn’t stop Coppelia. 

Her scythe extended forwards to pickaxe the ground where he stood, dust and broken tiles meeting her blow. The death knight instantly planted a boot upon it, seeking to keep it in place as he first swung with his greatsword … and then with where his helmet would have been had his head not been on the floor. 

Coppelia waved in the empty space above his neck.

“Oooh~ you’ve been around, huh? … Most knights at least try to use the stabbing end more.”

The death knight retreated in an instant, his greatsword almost as wide as any shield as he carefully watched Coppelia spinning her scythe for show.

He should have been watching her smile instead. That was her most dangerous instrument.

“Most knights are not even worth the flowers they’re buried with,” came the reply, the sword now raising outwards almost like a spear. “I do not play at jousting, but war.”

I was inclined to agree. 

Whatever knight he was in life, it was clearly not any of those who begged for my attention even as I held a sign expertly drawn with a different face up against mine. Those could sense who I was through the thickest of deceptions, such was their training in the art of incessant flattery.

No … this was someone who spent utterly no time with the important side of things. 

Despite the cordiality of his words, he fought like a brawler in a bar. I’d seen enough knights sparring to know the difference between those that performed the role and those that had fought in battles. This knight had claimed the battlefield long before he became what he was now.

Thus, I did what any princess fearing for her retainer would do.

I raised my sword, Starlight Grace gleaming as it dispelled the shadows. 

… And now with sufficient lighting, I offered my encouragement while ensuring I didn’t disturb this fight between two henchmen!

“Remember what we just discussed, Coppelia! We do not show chivalry!”

“Okie~!”

With a somewhat lazy smile, Coppelia proceeded to do what only someone who didn’t have a weapon gifted by her grandmother could.

“[Coppelia Throw]!”

She launched her scythe.

It skimmed across the ground and towards the undefended greaves of the death knight faster than he could lower his sword to halt it. Yet even if his arms failed, his legs did not. 

Stepping over it like a boy skipping rope, he gracefully avoided having his legs hacked away. 

A moment later, his body stiffened with sudden horror. 

As did the head … which the scythe was now flying towards.

“[Eldritch Grasp]!”

Twisting behind, the death knight released a hand from the greatsword. A violet hue imbued his palm and head was promptly called, snapping into his grip as a scythe shaved off a smattering of brows. 

The eyes blinked from the sudden movement, refocusing just in time to see Coppelia’s rosy pink shoes.

“[Coppelia Kick]!”

Bwam. 

A clang louder than even their weapons colliding filled the corridor as Coppelia’s roundhouse kick landed squarely upon the death knight’s torso. He was sent backwards at once, armour clattering as he rolled across the floor with as much noise as a bucket tumbling down a well.

Even so, he still gripped onto his greatsword with one hand.

With admirable grace, he plunged the blade into the ground to anchor himself, drawing a fissure into the stone tiles. When he eventually came to a still, it was to the sight of a crumpled dent in his chestpiece. He held out his head with his other hand to examine the sight, before crudely stuffing it back onto his neck.

It wasn’t quite straight.

“Interesting,” he said, as he calmly rose from his knees. “I rarely meet foes who further attempt to decapitate me. Once is normally enough.”

Coppelia offered a sweet smile in response.

“You can never be too sure, huh? Especially for someone who knows more than just how to punch things. Keeping the good ol’ death knight eldritch magic in reserve, eh? That’s cheeky.” 

“It is little more than you deserve, I feel. That was a low blow.”

“I disagree,” said Coppelia matter-of-factly. “A low blow isn’t called as such just because it's physically a low blow. It’s also something you didn’t expect. You were definitely prepared.”

“Then perhaps you shouldn’t discuss striking below the belt openly before a battle.”

Coppelia giggled.

Even without a weapon in her hands, the death knight didn’t seek to rush her. Caution well warranted.

But still not enough.

“Mmh~ but that’s just part of the whole ‘something you didn’t expect’ thing.”

To the death knight’s credit, he attempted to turn around.

He failed.

Shhuunnnkk.

Suddenly, half of Coppelia’s scythe erupted from the death knight’s chest.

The other half was protruding from his back as her weapon sought to return with enough force to sunder the runed armour of any obstacle in its way.  

The death knight offered no cry of pain as he dropped to one knee, holding himself with his blade dug into the ground. Yet nor was there any malice in the flames of his eyes. Any outpouring of animosity. 

Only a simple, curious respect.

“You’ve some curious tricks of your own, it seems.”

He gazed down at the scythe exiting his torso. 

Leaving the greatsword lodged before him, he reached up and attempted to push the weapon back through his own wounded chest. The scythe failed to move. Only a dribble of darkness met his attempt at freeing himself, leaking from whatever blood and flesh once remained.

“A unique weapon,” he said with almost casual indifference. “More powerful than I expected. While I was made in the realm of death, I see your scythe was forged somewhere even lower. But this is not enough to destroy me. My armour is only the weakest part of me.” 

Then, the death knight hoisted his greatsword, even upon his knee.

Clink.

Yet rather than flail wildly towards Coppelia, he instead tossed it at her feet, allowing it to clatter as the sharp sound of surrender upon the hard stone.

“But that was not the terms of this duel,” he said simply. “I find myself felled, and so accept my defeat. I offer my humble apologies for the insult against your worth.”

Coppelia looked down at the kneeling knight with a fluttering of her eyelashes.

Then, she leaned forwards with a hum.

“Are you doing that thing where you pretend you’ve lost, but then suddenly reach up and grab me?”

“I am not,” said the death knight, his eyes glowing indignantly.

“Are you sure? … Because that’s what I’d do.”

“I am a knight. One wreathed in blood and darkness, yes, but a knight nonetheless. Victory and defeat is more hallowed to me than the magic which binds my soul. Hence why I also offer my sword. A lesser reward than my apology, yet I offer it as honourable spoils nonetheless. Take all that I offer or none, and proceed to where the path next takes you. But be warned, for what lies ahead is a shadow worse than anything you or I can wield.” 

My loyal and also easily amused handmaiden leaned closer towards the fallen knight.

“Soooo … does that mean I’m worth way more than any fancy sword?”

“Indeed, you most certainly are.”

Coppelia turned to me with a bright smile.

“Look! Did you hear that? I’m–”

Swoosh.

No sooner than she turned did the death knight rise. 

Disregarding the scythe piercing his body, he moved with extraordinary speed. 

Like a circus panther ready to pounce on a jester, he lunged towards Coppelia’s exposed back … only to find cold air, hard stone and utter failure as Coppela hopped to the side. 

“Yoink.”

As the death knight tumbled, she casually plucked the head from his torso, helmet and all. 

There was no resistance, nor word of complaint. The fallen body made no movement. And why not? Shame and embarrassment was a heavier weight than any boulder we could have placed on him.

“Hi there,” said Coppelia, beaming as she tossed the head on her palms.

The death knight bore the disgrace for a moment, just as awkwardness commanded. 

Then, he coughed.

“My apologies, my nature as an undead death knight sworn to evil means I occasionally feel compelled to use deceit against my foes. It is a habit I’m working on. I have a wellness coach.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I totally get it. I’ve known lots of undead in my time!”

I closed my eyes, tapping my temple until I forgot the last words Coppelia said.

“I see. I should have assumed so from your cadence. In that case, may I politely request you lower me to ground level? Anywhere will do. I suffer from vertigo when carried by anyone other than myself.”

“No problem.”

Saying that, Coppelia scooted over to the prison cell where we’d been dumped. 

There she lowered the head to the middle of the floor, before picking up the nearby bucket and plonking it over the head. The bucket shifted slightly. Not from the head. But from whatever plagued rodent was still inside.

“Done~!” she said cheerily.

“Ma’am, this is highly unflattering,” came a voice now doubly hollowed from a helmet and a bucket. “I … I believe there is something in here. And it is already nibbling on me.”

Suddenly, a noise from the side took my attention. 

The death knight’s body had risen. 

However, far from retrieving its head, it merely stumbled to and fro as it bumped against the various walls, unable to even maintain its balance. It lunged through a set of bars into a different cell. As it rose again, it was with the searching arms of a new servant desperately seeking the exit from my wardrobe and fearing for lack of food.

Coppelia skipped beside me and nodded at the sight.

“... Should we give it a hint?”

I shook my head and turned away. If the bumbling of knights were ever a source of entertainment, I’d never need to leave my courtyard.

“No, at this rate it’ll find its way into the arms of the receptionists before long.”

“In that case, I’ll just scribble my name on it! I want the loot.”

I nodded at her enthusiasm to pay her share of the bakery provisions and premium apples. 

Fortunately for her, there was ample opportunity ahead to ensure we’d never have to touch the slightly soggy ones even Apple didn’t wish to eat.

But first–

There was just one other thing to consider.

Pwam. Pwam. Pwam.

An altogether different commotion, not caused by a death knight bumping into the walls.

How curious. It seems we were not the only souls to be down here.

… And judging by the rather aggressive nature of the banging, we certainly weren’t the angriest.

Frankly, I already couldn’t wait to leave. As I ignored the wriggling of a helmet and the gradually increasing coughs sounding from it, I could only wonder at what manner of horrors the mages sought to keep imprisoned here.

They must have been truly terrifying.