The Villainess Is An SS+ Rank Adventurer

Miriam was a busy vampire.

She had to be. From the very moment she’d arrived at the Royal Villa, introduction letter waving from a stick like a white flag as every knight, guard and cook who could wield a silver dessert spoon as a weapon rushed to surround her, she’d had no time to rest on her laurels. 

There was much to prove, not least her patron’s written affirmation of her.

That’s why–

Fwip.

She flipped a page. 

Her brows furrowed in concentration, she put every inch of concentration to work as she sped through to reach a suitable bookmark point in A Summer Knight’s Tale, Vol. 3. 

It was unlike her to do anything but take her time when it came to reading. 

After all, she was more than an avid consumer. She was The Pink Raven. That meant she critically assessed each work she read, studiously making notes in the event that the writer’s next work was a double sided letter asking her for industry advice. 

But for the first time in 500 years, time was not something Miriam had.

Thus, she found a suitable pause and closed her book, placing it neatly atop random pile #17 before surveying the library around her.

One she was now tasked with renovating.

Miriam was a vampire. But she was also a librarian. 

In accordance with the wishes of the princess who had offered her salvation from those who would use her ashes to scribble a triumph on their record, she worked to ensure the stately library of the Royal Villa was a place worthy of the name. 

A difficult task. 

By all accounts, Princess Juliette spent little time in it. And Miriam could see why. 

It was a trove of ancient texts, yes … but the vast majority of them were unfit for the yearnings of a growing girl below the age of 1,000 years old. 

Heavy tomes on mathematics, history and geography littered the shelves, each spared dust only by the arduous efforts of the servants. Even so, Miriam knew that should she pull any tome from the shelves, insects dryer than the content they’d tried to nibble on would fall from between the pages.

A problem.

But not as much as the one she faced while rising from her dedicated corner of cushions.

“My, your hair is so beautiful … I can’t believe you don’t even need to brush it!”

“Your skin is so smooth. I’m so envious! I spend half my salary just on bath creams!”

“Countess Miriam, my sister is an aspiring tailor. Although she’s inexperienced, she shows wonderful talent. If you have time, would you consider trying on one of her dresses? In fact, if you could sport it for even a single day, that would allow her to be apprenticed in Reitzlake …”

Yes.

This was a significant problem.

Miriam blinked, feeling herself being jostled from side to side as a gaggle of the Royal Villa’s maids surrounded her. As she tried to rise, one of them ‘accidentally’ palmed her back down, the strength of the fervour somehow surpassing her vampiric strength.

Although much had changed in the 500 years since Miriam wore the trappings of nobility, how she was treated was not. 

Her title, she’d learned, was antiquated. But that did not mean it no longer held sway. Many of the maids serving under the Contzen family were themselves nobility, being the first daughters of minor houses or the middling daughters of major ones. 

As a newcomer, Miriam was an unknown quantity. And as a vampire, she held in her the power of the night. It was not unusual that members of the aristocracy would attempt to curry favour with her.

And yet …

“Goodness, the way she sits like a doll is simply the most adorable thing, is it not?”

“Indeed, those pink pyjamas look so fetching on her! Why, I rather want to take her home with me …”

Miriam felt this was not the reason she was being mobbed constantly. 

Thus, escaping from the maids was how she began her day.

The next was to offer her courtesies to those around the Royal Villa. As she had no need to dine, Miriam was shorn of opportunities to present herself to the guests and dignitaries who visited the estate. 

It was not a task she did to reintroduce herself to politics, but rather a direct request from the queen. 

Miriam was uncertain why.

After all–

“Ah … ah … ahhhhhhhhhhh!!”

Despite her attempts at initiating pleasantries, it was clear that those who met her were terrified witless … and yet this did not seem to displease the queen. Far from it, she wore a smile that more than once made Miriam wonder if she was the only vampire in the estate.

Miriam didn’t understand.

But she did as requested, nonetheless.

Her second task was to fulfil her vow to fill the library to be worthy of Princess Juliette’s attention. And to this, she was far better equipped. 

Using her vast literary network, she was able to order in quantity her own curated selection of bestsellers, classics and even advance copies of soon-to-be-in-demand books. Using both her assigned budget and personal funds, she ensured that a bookshop’s worth of novels arrived on a near daily basis. 

With one repossessed library wing already 78% complete, the transactions were smooth and uneventful.

Usually.

Because sometimes, couriers came who were not from any vendor she had ordered from.

On the contrary, they appeared to be those commissioned by Princess Juliette herself.

“‘Tis 250 gold crowns,” said the grinning man, palm already out as Miriam met him at the gates. “You won’t know the trouble I went through to get this one. Dodged bandits, plagued treants and even a demon hellhound just to get here. Don’t matter if the princess ain’t in. She’ll want it when she’s back. I promise.”

Miriam narrowed her eyes at the book in the courier’s hand, despite the fact she could see perfectly well.

A Rogue’s Redemption, Vol. 4.

Cost: 5 gold crowns.

Availability: everywhere.

In response, she lifted the coin pouch she had ready.

The man’s eyes glittered with the reflection of the crowns before they even appeared. Miriam started counting the exact amount. And for the man’s effort at passing the bandits, plagued treants and demon hellhounds between here and the nearest town bookstore, she even offered a charming smile. 

Fangs and all.

She thought it was very nice of him to leave the book when he fled. 

Miriam’s next task was to ensure there was space for it. And this meant overseeing the expansion of the library proper. Once the current wing had finished filling up, it wasn’t enough to simply reorganise books. More space was needed. And desperately.

Because amongst all the heavy tomes, the weightest were the poetry compendiums.

There were, frankly, far too many.

Each was a collection of works written by Princess Juliette. And while Miriam was not studied enough in the arts to judge them, the king had. 

He had stipulated that none of these treasured artifacts of culture were to be damaged or accidentally lost, with an unusual amendment that this still counted even if Princess Juliette herself requested it so. 

“... Countess Miriam, my apologies for disturbing you. I have the results of the feasibility survey you requested about the proposed arts wings.”

Miriam had scarcely needed to make herself known before the first of the architects approached her. 

Grizzled and professional as they all seemed to be in the Royal Villa, they expertly managed her instructions to the construction team. 

She was as impressed by their work rate as their flexibility. Miriam didn’t need sleep, but those tasked with building and designing the four new wings she’d deemed the minimum necessary did. Their work ethic came from the constant management of the estate. The many buildings, auxiliary allotments and walls made maintaining the Royal Villa a task which never ended. 

Excellent for job stability. Except when it came to the observatory. That was the job which made them offer their resignations instead.

Miriam didn’t see why. She thought the trapped tiles were quite obvious. 

Which was perhaps the reason for her next task of the day. 

A royal summons.

“My apologies for the disturbance,” said a bright and cheerful maid, as she also leaned in to fix the collar of her pyjamas. “But Princess Clarise has kindly requested your presence in her observatory at the earliest opportunity.”

For the nearby staff members not used to it, they blinked in confusion at how Miriam’s personal maid had appeared as though out of thin air.

After all, that’s exactly what she had done.

Once a banshee, she’d apparently been exorcised by the same hand that had rescued her from her holy prison in Stermondt. To this day, she wasn’t quite sure how a princess with no magic at her disposal could have done that. And so long as she didn’t ask, she would happily continue not to know.

Miriam nodded, already setting aside her work on the library.

“Of course. Did Princess Clarise state the reason why? I could arrive swiftly if the matter is urgent.”

“Princess Clarise did not give a reason. However, I believe it is related to the fire.”

“Fire? What fire?”

The maid dipped her head politely, then swept over to a library window. They’d all been equipped with yellow curtains to prevent accidental disintegration. Sweeping it aside, it revealed the sight of the observatory engulfed in flames, smoke rising to paint even the darkened sky.   

“Oh … so it is urgent, then?”

“I cannot say. Her observatory is regularly on fire. However, as this one appears more severe, there is a possibility of being summoned to assist in quenching the flames.”

Miriam nodded.

Then, without wasting another moment, she kneeled and curled up where she stood. 

A swirling ball of scarlet and night engulfed her at once. It quivered for only a moment before shattering as a flock of bats. And then off she went.

Were she a regular vampire, she would be able to achieve the same feat with just the wings on her back. But since she was the equivalent of permanently malnourished, she had to make do with her vampiric spells instead, wasteful as they were to use. 

Miriam flew past the window. 

She saw the flames being emitted from the second princess’s observatory at once. All the more so due to the perpetual darkness framing it. In the distance, that magical sphere of darkness still dominated the horizon. A terrible thing for the kingdom. But for Miriam, she couldn’t deny it was also exceptionally useful for her quality of life. 

Without the sun to threaten her, she could now read books wherever she wanted. Such as the corner of the library, the corner of her bedroom or the corner of a cellar. 

But more importantly, she could now freely traverse the sky, hurrying every wing as she flew through a gap in the observatory beside where a telescope was peeking through a hatch.

She arrived to find the chamber almost entirely on fire.  

Despite the maids diligently flinging buckets of water while dancing around the trapped tiles, it was a scene of carnage reminiscent of those that would make her peers break out into villainous laughter. 

Her eyes fell on the second princess. Already fragile, little of her slim frame could be seen other than her back as she lay hunched over the ground in the centre of the chamber.

Miriam reappeared in her true form, palms spread outward.

“[Flash Freeze].”

At once, the chamber turned from an oven and into a cavern of icicles.

The flames remained as they were, now turned to ice as fine as crystalline shards. The final plume of smoke rose, before being swept out of the window with a wave of Miriam’s hand.

Then, she leaned over the fallen princess. 

Concern swept through her at once. 

As a vampire, she had dozens of ways to harm the living and not a single one to heal them. At least not without turning them into a thrall, and she doubted if that would sit well with her stomach. Although not a priority, Miriam didn’t know if the second princess had much blood to spare. Between the two of them, she was more likely to be mistaken as a vampire.

A moment later–

Her concerns proved unfounded.

The fallen princess hadn’t actually fallen.

Rather … she was simply working.

“... Quantity unconfirmed. Quality sufficient. Results pending. Further tests required. Equipment damage minor. Higher concentration of flame resistant alloys required without compromising joinage …”

Scribbling at the rate of a child going wild with their first paintbrush, the second princess was putting words to parchment faster than it seemed she was capable of writing.

“Excuse me,” said Miriam, waving ever so slightly. “I believe I was requested, Your Highness.”

Princess Clarise looked up, her eyes blinking as she realised who’d materialised in front of her. Of the crystallised ice, she seemed yet to notice.

“Oh, welcome to my workshop. My apologies, I was rather distracted in my work. Thank you for coming at short notice. I hope I didn’t disturb you in the library renovations.”

“Not at all. The schedule is proceeding as planned. Truthfully, there’s little for me to do over than oversee the particulars. Those tasked with the construction are remarkably competent.”

“I’d imagine so. Theirs is a work unending. The Royal Villa may lack a castle, but that does not mean its staff have any less to do. The stonework is as old as the kingdom, and it often feels that so are those who care for them. I am grateful for your studiousness.”

“It is my pleasure to assist as I can. Including fire fighting. May I ask if that is why I was called?”

Princess Clarise slowly turned her head around her. She reached out and poked the tip of an ice shard.

Then, she immediately scribbled something down on her endless roll of parchment.

“Oh, goodness no, I wouldn’t disturb you for such a small thing,” she said, sounding genuinely embarrassed at the thought. “No, I just wanted to ask if you might assist with my work.”

Miriam tilted her head slightly.

If she’d learned one thing from all the characters she’d read, it was that those who had an affinity for things were the type she managed to empathise least with.

“I am no inventor,” she said honestly. “I’m uncertain if I’ll be able to help.”

“Oh, don’t worry. It’s your magic I need to borrow.” 

“My magic?” 

Princess Clarise pointed at her telescope. 

An enormous thing, its shell one of polished gold. It was beautiful. And so were the stars it showed. Miriam had only peered through it once before. On the first day she had introduced herself to everyone while surrounded by guards wielding silver forks, shiny mirrors and hymn books. 

That’d been a long day.

… And judging by the fact the chamber had already been on fire before her assistance was requested, she suspected today would be longer.

“I’ve modified my telescope,” explained Princess Clarise, pointing towards a crate filled with a ludicrous amount of arcana crystals and a mazework of connected pipes. “It’s a work-in-progress. But in brief, I’ve repurposed the primary optical chamber, magical lens and focusing crystal to be able to discharge a volatile burst of pure light broadly equivalent to the concentrated power of the sun.”

Miriam nodded … all the while stepping back.

“Oh, I see. That’s very impressive. Is this for the magical anomaly in the sky?”

“It is, yes. Unfortunately, while the telescope is still in an initial prototyping stage, I believe I lack the necessary time to refine it. The magical darkness has become visually unstable. Furthermore, I believe that Juliette is in danger.”

Miriam blinked.

She was not surprised to hear that the princess masquerading as an adventurer was present somewhere at the scene. She was surprised, however, to hear she was in danger and not the danger herself.

“Is Princess Juliette near the source of the spell?”

Princess Clarise nodded as she rose from her scribbled notes. 

“Nearer than near. She’s directly beneath it. It’s what prompted me to finalise preparations. I’m uncertain why, but Juliette is at the Royal Institute of Mages. And she appears to be in the company of only a poorly summoned skeleton, a comatose woman and the clockwork doll I’ve heard about. Meanwhile, the upper section of the tower has been destroyed. Given its wards, this is a feat not even an archmage could easily accomplish. There is a powerful foe nearby. Countess Miriam, we must disrupt the spell at once.” 

Miriam nodded.

Frankly, she doubted her ability to render meaningful assistance. The spell overhead was far beyond her ability to comprehend, let alone destroy.

But she would do what she could.

… Even if that meant assisting in the creation of what seemed to be a holy doomsday device.

“I understand. What would you like me to do?”

Princess Clarise scooted to the front of the telescope. 

She banged it with her fist. 

An ominous cranking noise later, she nodded towards the crate of arcana crystals. Just like all things mined with a pickaxe, these prized reagents differed significantly in quality. Not these. Even the naked eye could see they were pristine. The magical energy swirled within like fish in a pond. These were not mere reagents. They were destined for use in the creation of powerful potions and armour.

Or stuffed into a box and readied to be discharged into the sky.

“The arcana crystals become increasingly volatile as they are used. Some violently combust before their contents are drained. I believe it’s due to the heat radiated as a result of such a large concentration. The result is critical failure just prior to the telescope’s firing activation. I was wondering if it would be possible for you to use your magic to regulate the heat of the arcana crystals?”

Miriam considered it for a moment.

“I think so,” she said, even as she doubted herself. “But it’s not something I’ve attempted before. How will I know if the arcana crystals are at threat of combusting?”

“Oh, that’s easy. They glow very brightly and you feel a sense of deep regret.”

Miriam didn’t know how to tell her she was already experiencing the latter.

“I … I see … so I should attempt to keep the colouration like how it currently is?”

“Yes, as dull as possible without any icicles forming. Either extreme would result in the same effect. But as long as they don’t look like they’re about to violently explode, everything should be fine.”

Princess Clarise searched around herself for a moment. She pulled open a nearby drawer and retrieved two pairs of mechanical goggles.

“Safety first,” she said brightly, handing over a pair.

Miriam parted her lips, ready to inform her that as a vampire, she had several abilities designed purely to offer her enough moments of invulnerability that she could escape any danger.

Then, she took the offered goggles and put them on.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Shall we begin?”

With a nod, Miriam raised her hands over the crate of arcana crystals. 

Princess Clarise duly put on her goggles, then pulled upon a brass lever to the side of the telescope. A shockingly loud whirring filled the air at once, joined by the noise of cogs clanking together. The pipes connecting the crystals shone as though suddenly filled with flames. As did the crystals themselves.

“[Winter’s Chill].”

Using as little magic as she could, an icy vapour immediately poured forth from Miriam’s hands.

After a moment, she peeked beside her to see the princess smiling in satisfaction.

She then watched as the smile became distinctly more curious.

“Hmm.”

“... Is something the matter, Your Highness?”

“No, at least, I don’t think so. Your magic is working splendidly.”

“Oh, wonderful.”

“It’s just that the telescope should have fired already.”

Miriam glanced between the princess, the makeshift cannon and the crate of arcana crystals.

“Should I stop?”

“No … actually, I think you should continue. I believe your magic is not only regulating the arcana crystals, but also furthering the amount of magic they have available. Your spell is being absorbed.”

“I wasn’t aware that arcana crystals could be refilled.”

“They can’t. Arcana crystals cannot permanently store magical energy once ruptured. They leak. But as inefficient as it is, that doesn’t mean they cannot store excess magic temporarily. This is most excellent. The output should be even greater.”

Up ahead, Miriam saw the darkness begin to shudder ominously, twisting like a pained silhouette. 

It did not remotely concern her as much as the continuous cranking from the giant telescope. Smoke began to rise just as the telescope began to tremble, its bolts becoming undone.

“... Are we safe?”

“Of course. We’re wearing goggles.”

Miriam nodded. 

And then–

She watched as a flash of light brighter than the midday sun was expelled into the sky, melting the very telescope it had come from. 

What happened next, she would learn from her maid.

After all, it would be several hours until her eyes functioned again.

But that was fine.

It could be worse. Especially for those who earned the ire of not one, but two princesses … to say nothing of a busy vampire who now had a place to call home.

This was how Miriam spent her day as a librarian at the Royal Villa.

She expected tomorrow would be much the same.