The Villainess Is An SS+ Rank Adventurer

I was no stranger to the horrors of the world.

So long as there was night, there were the creatures that lived within it. And so long as I lived in a tower with an uninterrupted panoramic view, there were also the drunken ruffians wandering from the nearby village all the way to our gates. 

Despite the valiant attempts of my guards to shield my innocent eyes, no princess was truly safe. Neither pleading nor threats of imprisonment stopped the grim nature of their vandalism as they slept and vomited from field to field, forgetting that what they grew was what they ate. 

It certainly wasn’t going to our kitchens. I’d made sure of that.

Yet despite the many frightening things I'd seen while either gasping from my balcony or staring at an inn ceiling, none of it quite compared to this.

A man with as little shame as he had clothing, returning through the very same hole I'd punted him through.

Neither old nor young, with a crop of dark hair and a face already forgotten, he could have blissfully existed as the most mundane commoner I’d ever ignored.

If I wasn’t a princess, that is.

A glamour.

Ugh. The torture. If there was one joy to being away from my father’s court, it was to escape from the faces covered in more dead things and bottled magic than a witch at a birthday party. 

And now I had someone who wasn’t covered in enough.

Stripped to his last layer of dignity, he had the gall to look moderately aghast as he threaded himself through the perfectly shaped silhouette, all the while the glitter of magic played at his feet.

An utterly appalling display. 

Point 1 … He failed to wear clothing. 

Point 2 … He failed to drop to his doom. 

Point 3 … He failed to wear an expression of remorse for failing points 1 and 2. 

He’d not said a word and already made more mistakes than a new servant pouring their first cup of tea. And now he was about to make another.

“Well, I never!” said the man, his finger wagging furiously for someone else to pay attention to. “I should have expected no other introduction! Straight to the rampant destruction as always! You blasted me through my wall! … My wall!”

He gestured towards the hole. 

Naturally, I was filled with remorse. Had I seen his collection of marble busts, I would have punted them instead. I’m certain the holes they made were bigger.

“I advise you to pretend to be more repentant,” I said, doing my best to look to the side of the naked mage clawing at my eyes. “I’m a fair maiden. And you greet me as bare as the day you were born. The inappropriateness is frankly staggering.”

The man motioned to an invisible crowd. 

He should be glad they weren’t present. The vibrations from the booing would have toppled this tower whole.

“Inappropriateness?! You’ve just kicked down my door!”

I gasped.

“An unfounded allegation. Coppelia kicked down your door. There’s a difference. One that will be noted in all official records.”

Beside me, Coppelia wore a rare look of indignation.

“Hey! That’s super unfair! … If I knew this would be noted down, I would’ve tried harder! I can kick way better than that!”

The man raised his arms in exasperation. Already the wrong response. 

Coppelia said it herself. She could have destroyed far more than just whatever mantlepiece was saved from my judgement. That was a gift for us all.

“And why, dare I ask, did you need to kick down my door at all?! It wasn’t even locked! Why didn’t you simply walk inside? … Did you even check?”

A moment of silence.

And then–

“Y-Your days of scheming are over!” I said, raising my sword. “I will see your crimes of miscreancy brought to an end!”

The man’s mouth widened.

“You both barged into my chamber! In what world am I expected to be dressed for violent intruders? … This is highly unfair!”

“Incorrect–it is extremely unfair.”

“What?”

“Fairness is a scale weighted entirely towards me. And that means I expect every hoodlum, drunkard and conniving mage to be dressed ready to receive me … why, anything less is a scandal!”

The man motioned to the heap of garments scattered before his wardrobe.

“This is a scandal! Not only was I not informed of your exact time of intrusion, but I was also in the exact midst of robing myself! If you wanted to see me dressed so badly, you merely had to wait an extra 2 … perhaps 3 hours!”

I was aghast.

“3 hours? What are you? A court lady’s attendant?”

The man stood up straighter, as though somehow proud of the comment.

“I am a mage. The most prodigious in the kingdom. But there is no magic better than good taste for knowing which robe is best. I’ve an important meeting, you see, and I’m afraid that the sensibilities of intruders do not factor into my dress plans.”

“There is no meeting you have more important than the one you experience now. And my first impressions are of a plucked bird who’s not spending nearly enough time fleeing to the horizon.”   

Suddenly, the man clicked his fingers. 

I raised my sword, but no fireball came.

Only a sudden smile as all the grief was suddenly washed away like an afterthought.

“Exactly, young lady. First impressions. Very important. Which is why you can help.”

“Excuse me?”

“Here, which of the robes draw your eye? The white or the blue? A subtle understatement pointing to how I rise above the proletariat, or a veritable speech as powerful as my intentions? There’s also the dark horse. Maroon. Unorthodox and not the obvious choice, but that in itself conveys a potent message.”

I could barely believe the impertinence.

T-The nerve of this man! 

It was one thing to conjure a ball of darkness over my kingdom, but to ask me for fashion advice without a suitable exchange of every item stored in the tower’s vaults was the starkest thing yet!

Moreover, I simply wasn’t able to assist.

“My apologies, but I’m unable to distinguish between different shades of vomit.”

The man’s cheeks flushed as a look of indignation far greater than when he’d crawled through the hole met me.

“Vomit, you say! … These were all handpicked!”

“And I’m certain the shopkeepers you handpicked them from were all too glad to see their hearths saved. But even the most relieved would surely prefer the smoke than to see their worst stock judged upon the floor.”

I wagged my sword tellingly towards the strewn mess. 

A message more meaningful than any words. One that even a man wearing a look of open indignation understood. And so after a moment of rebellion, he gave a heaving sigh before finally scooping up a robe.

“... Yes?” he said, holding up his garment like a sickly curtain. “Will you be observing me as I robe? Or is privacy a concept which exists only to be kicked away?”

My loyal handmaiden blinked at me.

“Is that a … ?”

“No, it’s not an actual question.”

“Okie~”

Coppelia politely swivelled around. I chose to tap my foot instead.

“Excuse me?” said the man in disbelief. “Are you seriously going to watch?”

“Please. The appalled tone is mine. After all, it’s my eyes which need to suffer. But better that than the fireball towards my back instead.”

The man looked aghast.

“My unholy gods, I’m not going to send a fireball towards your back.” 

“A different spell consisting of fire, then?”

“Why would I need to do that? Do you have any idea how immensely powerful I am? I want to get dressed with a hint of dignity! Bad enough that I no longer have a door to shield me while robing myself, but to do so while under such a forthright glare is an embarrassment no man deserves! My word, spare me at least a crumb of grace!”

I rolled my eyes.

A moment later, I duly turned to offer this man his moment of privacy … and then continued to turn, all the way until I was presented with the flaming fingertip pointing towards me.

“[Fiery-”

“[Spring Breeze]!”

Poomph.

Once again, Coppelia leaned forwards, hand to her brows as she judged the distance.

A few moments later, a man now shorn of both clothing and any remnants of shame squeezed himself through the second hole in the wall. 

Without a word, he picked up the nearest robe from the floor, flung it on, then proceeded to the nearby desk. 

Seating himself on a newly righted chair, he brushed away a film of dust from the cover of a sizable tome. His posture straightened with a show of needless professionalism.

“... I welcome you to my office,” he said in a calm tone, as neither of us made any note of his failed assassination of chivalry. “I am Headmaster Alberic Terschel. Would you like tea? I’ve a collection gifted to me over the years.”

He gestured towards a cabinet. 

I spared the tea a glance. What I saw was more devastating than any magic he could cast. Clumps of leaves drying in open bowls like eyeballs destined for a cauldron. 

I wondered if his senses were amongst them.

“Tea by a lich,” I mused. “How novel. And yet I must decline. It’d be unseemly for me to drink while my host can only watch it slither past his bones.” 

The lich in the guise of a man gave a faint chuckle.

“In my case, it’s not so morbid. My glamour is more than an illusion. I even have pinchable cheeks. Bones are all well and good, but I’ve a soft spot for my dimples.”

“Then perhaps you should have opted to remain as flesh and blood. If you had, you could have saved your wits from seeping between your bones before your new cheeks were applied.”

“I assure you, young lady, my wits are in good order. Far more than intruders who willingly approach knowing what I am. And how swiftly too! I suppose word gets around once the cat’s out of the magic bag. But know that you don’t have the advantage of me–for I know exactly who you are.”

“Oh?” 

I smiled in unexpected delight. 

Well now, wasn’t this a pleasant surprise? Why, if he knew who I was, then I could pretend that removing him was even simpler than it already was!

Naturally, it was only understandable he’d know my identity. My family had built this tower. My great-great-grandfather hung upon the walls. And while I didn’t share his stiff cheeks, I possessed his altruism, and that was a family trait recognisable to all.

The headmaster leaned slightly forwards, his smile hardening. 

“Indeed, I do. Do not mistake me for the blind apprentices below. For I see that beside the copper ring on your hand, you wear an even finer one.”

I blinked.

“Excuse me?”

“You possess a powerful artifact … and a curious story. Loathe are the fae to part with their toys and trinkets. Clearly, you’re an adventurer of some success. But I also note your state of dress and mannerisms, absurdly rude as they are. You are highborn, explaining your acquaintance with the fae. Thus, in keeping with tradition, I shall show my respects by referring to both your titles–Lady Adventurer.”

I took a step back, my knees quivering as Starlight Grace shook in my grip.

Who … Who was that?!

Being called a lady … and an adventurer … such a multifaceted insult!

This man … why, he was far more capable than I could have anticipated!

“I … I have never been so insulted! You shall take back that vile accusation at once!” 

The headmaster did no such thing. 

He merely looked confused.

“... How dare you!” said Coppelia, a rare scowl wrinkling her expression as she thrust her arm sidewards to defend me. “The noble soul you see before you did not strive through mud, farms, forests and nightly amnesia regarding the things she eats to suffer being called Lady Adventurer!” 

I gasped.

C-Coppelia! She was so reliable! 

Why, even the headmaster was forced to sit up straighter, physically moved as he was by my loyal handmaiden’s fervour.

“My apologies, I didn’t mean to cause offence. What form of address should I use?” 

“You will refer to her by her full title. Lady B-rank Adventurer.”

“Coppelia?!”

As I winced from a jab harder than her elbow in the night, the headmaster nodded with misplaced seriousness. 

“... B-rank. I see. I apologise, then.”

“W-Wait … you need not apologise for that! In fact, you can disregard every word spoken by my semi-loyal handmaiden!”

“Nonsense. I might be soulless, but I’m not boorish. To reach B-rank in any field is a rare and impressive feat. Just as it is with mages, a person of average talent might strive their whole life to one day be lauded as C-rank. Any higher than that means you are a true expert of your chosen field. Yours is a fine achievement for one so young, Lady B-rank Adventurer.” 

A weird noise exited my lips.

One that will never be repeated. 

Because any notion of this title leaving this chamber was shortly about to perish along with the nonchalant smile of the man before me.

“You should have kept your soul,” I said as I bravely recovered from the successive mental attacks. “The remorse I’ll be ignoring is less meaningful when there’s no feeling behind it.”

The headmaster chuckled, his hand reaching out to casually drum against the book on his desk.

“I’m afraid I’ve never been one for grovelling, even before I gave myself to undeath. A lifetime of academic excellence precludes that.”

“There’s always time to learn, Headmaster.”

“Indeed, there is. Would you like to begin now? I can offer an excerpt from my writing. I believe it’ll be most educational.”

“Thank you. But I do not camp in the wilderness and thus have no need to learn how to light a fire using the pages.”

“My book is not kindling, young lady. It is my life’s endeavour. Observations Of The Grave. Part theory, part review and part biography, it encapsulates all the most modern research notes regarding necromancy.”

I raised my arms in disbelief. Coppelia ducked as my sword swished in the air.

“Are you telling me that you wrote a book about necromancy? And nobody thought to question your motives?”

“No, I’m saying that I wrote a book about necromancy 13 times and nobody thought to do more than offer extremely demeaning reviews born of academic envy and small mindedness.”

“... Excuse me? How many times?

“13 times. 13 editions.” The headmaster smiled fondly upon his work. “Marvellous, no? I won’t say it’s entirely unintended. After all, I’d hoped to release the complete edition before my 3rd editor perished to old age. But better late than never.”

“Your book needed 13 separately published editions?”

“Not one less. Not one more. It is complete. A text that will withstand the ages, its words unfading even when all else has broken. The undisputed reference on modern necromancy. It is a key as much as a book. Any who reads it may open whatever door they desire. And I am the one who wrote it.”

The headmaster wore a look of unmitigated satisfaction.

I had nothing to offer but my horror. 

An expression which didn’t go missed. Fingers ceased drumming as the headmaster basked for a moment in my horror as I finally understood the measure of this man.

Indeed, I’d sorely underestimated him.

Anyone who republished the same book until someone other than their own mother read it was capable of anything! 

To republish the same book 13 times was anathema!

He … He must be stopped! 

“I see this has gone beyond my expectations,” I said, levelling Starlight Grace until it shone uncomfortably into his eyes. “But nothing you’ve wrought cannot be unwrought. You may begin with tidying away the blot in the sky, followed shortly by yourself. I’m willing to assist in the latter.” 

The headmaster nodded, pretending to listen just as I pretended I was asking.

“A most generous proposition. Sadly, I must decline. But since I’m nothing if not an educator, I shall explain why. There is no method for you to defeat me. Not unless all the sisters of the Holy Church were simultaneously lobbing their tears at me.”

“A shame, then. Squeezing out their tears is still a work-in-progress.”

The headmaster paused.

He blinked at my copper ring. I chose not to correct myself.

“Yes, well … you have no sisters and no holy magic. But you know this already. Just as you know that a B-rank adventurer cannot defeat a lich. Which means … you’re here to make an offer, perhaps? Were you sent by the Mage’s Guild? Or one of the many semi-secret cabals which plague the bars of the continent?”

A look of malcontent blended with simple greed met me. 

It was nothing less than utterly disappointing. That he should give himself over to the dark powers was one thing, but to crave the laurels of the masses after doing so was another. Only the marble busts would miss him when he was gone.

“Not at all,” I said simply. “I came here to remove you from your post.”

“Excuse me?”

“Rest assured, if delegating this was an option, I’d be busy finding new ways to bribe my horse to trot 1% faster. Instead, I’m here where I’m officially stationary. How do you plan to make amends? Will you teleport me the distance you’ve robbed?”

The headmaster’s smile hardened, even if it didn’t fade entirely.

That could still be fixed.

“I suggest you take this more seriously, young lady. This is no laughing matter.”

“Of course it isn’t. The laughing comes later. There’s no need to worry. You won’t miss it.”

The headmaster drummed his fingers against his book again. 

This time, it was slower, the pacing less jovial and more bored.

“... Ah, to think I held out hope this was some ruse by the Cowled Magisters. Instead, this truly is what it seems. Young audaciousness. How disappointing. I rather thought the malevolence of the spell overhead was enough to discourage such banal approaches. Tell me, do you think righteousness is enough to defeat a lich?”

“No, but I think my nature as a wingless angel is more than sufficient.”

I waited for the awe that usually accompanied such statements. 

Instead, all I received was a look of bemusement. 

“I’m afraid even an angel would fail to lay me low,” he said with a smile devoid of jest. “... Very well, then. I presume this is the part where you futilely enact whatever plan you have in store before I turn you into parts of the carpet?”

“I certainly hope not. You’ve excellently tailored this chamber to maximise nausea. My sparkling remains would only ruin the effect.”

The headmaster gave a low chuckle. It even felt genuine.

“Goodness, I’m rather sad to see this conversation end. You’re my first interlopers. As such, I want you to know that I’ll forget you quickly and without a shred of remorse. Now, would you like an overview of my plans before I disintegrate you?”

“No, thank you.”

“Really? … It’s just that, well, I believe most people would want to know what my goals are. You know, in case they survive.”

I rolled my eyes.

“Please. Your reasons are as useful to me as a floppy dessert spoon. I’m here to see you gone, not replaced with a migraine as I shake a needless monologue from my memories.”

The headmaster’s shoulders sagged.

After a moment, he suitably recovered, consoling himself with thoughts of boring whoever he next hoped to meet.

“So be it. I’m afraid that one way or another, you’ll regret your lack of curiosity. Luckily, regret will be swift, if exceedingly painful. For as competently made as your sword is, your brashness is a far more terrifying threat. Enough that I can almost believe this is more than an adventurer’s ego I face. Worrying … were you a mage. But I can see with unerring clarity you cannot cast magic.”

I smiled sweetly. An answer which caused the headmaster to tense.

But not quite as much as when I raised my hand to barely cover it.

“Ohohohoho … true, but she can.”

A moment of silence passed, filled only by the blank look I received.

After all, he didn’t have my peripheral vision, well-honed senses or the subtle poke in my side by Coppelia’s elbow for betrayal like I did. 

For why destroy a lich, when you could also graze a princess as well?

“[Sacred Divine Celestial Sunflare Hexbeam]!!”

Ugh.

Even now, the names of her spells were needlessly complicated. 

If I wasn’t stood blocking vision of where a door used to be, she’d have been struck down before her second syllable. Having such long-winded names helped nobody. 

Least of all me.

Why, I still needed to drop to the floor!

Instead, an uncomfortable light filled my eyes, dousing the chamber and all within.

And then–

Everything exploded.