The Villainess Is An SS+ Rank Adventurer

Dragons.

There was little which needed to be said. Even those who had never known the terror of a badger nibbling upon a purple azalea knew the tale of dragons. 

Where liches and receptionists fought to climb higher upon the ladder of children’s nightmares, they did so only as paupers elbowing each other over rungs which dragons had long soared over. They were kings of earth and sky, residing not upon the world, but over it.

And here was one so regal it could only be woken by a princess’s gentle presence.

Like a mountain of emeralds given life, the dragon slowly shifted. A waterfall of coins cascaded down its enormous form, the odd few becoming stuck between its scales. 

Golden eyes, half-lidded and drowsy, gazed without focus at the modest hoard serving as a bed. 

Its response was the same as mine. A wrinkling of the nose. Except this one came with a cloud of smoke. As its nostrils flared, twin plumes able to warm the temperature of the cavern rushed out, darkening what little sky could be gleaned from the fissure high above.

A moment later–it turned its head.

Cheeks as hard as bedrock and horns more pointed than any lance came to rest against the bed of gold. Yet any hope this was a pillow to help it return to slumber was lost. 

Even as its head rested, its eyes did not.

The haze lessened. The slit of its pupils narrowing as the starch began to fade. And a gaze filled with a familiar greed began to count each and every coin. 

Indeed … I knew this look well. 

After all, there was only one thing which could surpass even a dragon’s greed. And that was the hubris of every dignitary to have laid eyes upon my father’s throne. 

I preferred none of them.

Thus, I turned to Coppelia and nodded.

“Very well. We have a dragon.”

“We sure do~! Look, isn’t he nice and cuddly? And by nice and cuddly, I mean huge and spiky.”

“He’ll certainly require one of the larger tea tables, yes.”

“You can probably give him any. I think he’s in a good mood. Normally, he’d have yelled at us and demanded pancakes for waking him up already. Isn’t this wonderful?”

A fresh plume of smoke billowed from the corners of the dragon’s maw. A telltale sign of someone so averse to being woken that no words of complaint could suffice.

I sympathised. But even that went only so far. 

“What is wonderful would be a greeting,” I said with a rueful shake of my head. “For a dragon to be so mesmerised by gold that neither thought nor gift is spared to a visitor harks to the days they rained terror and destruction upon the continent, sending all life fleeing before them.”

Coppelia nodded.

After a moment, she remembered to turn off her smile as well.

“And that is bad.” Coppelia paused, waiting in case I had to correct her. “Very, very bad.”

“Indeed, it would be terrible. The hedgehogs would have free reign to multiply with abandon.”

“That’s exactly what I meant. If all human towns and the smells they constantly make were erased, the rest of us would be overwhelmed with the scent of fresh flowers and happiness.”

“Happiness is already prevalent throughout my kingdom. It is mandatory while my subjects are shielded by the warmth of my family. We do not require competition from a dragon’s flame.”

Coppelia leaned down and poked at her fallen colleague. 

One whose final test was failed by the lack of any gloating. 

Instead, she was taking the place of the previously sleeping dragon, her idle smile galling but insufficient as she closed her eyes to the world’s dissatisfaction. Only the key on her back moved, the individual clicks now discernible as the turns slowed.

“You’ll need to ask Fleur once she exits emergency napping mode. Which you should hope is soon. I’m actually not too sure what the big guy will do now, since she was the one with the reins and all.”

“If she had the means to goad this dragon into doing whatever she wished, then surely you do as well?” 

“Eeehh … I dunno, she was always his favourite. Maybe because she did small things like all the finances, the scheduling, the management and the pancake restocking. I don’t think I’m getting through. Not with this goldlust. That’s a pretty serious thing.”

“I see … is it a disease, then?”

“Nope. A disease can be cured. This is worse. You know how peasants like drowning themselves in alcohol to distract themselves from their worthless and miserable existences? Goldlust is like that. Except they collect treasure instead of alcohol, they’re a lot less picky about which places they embarrass themselves in and after they pass out, they’re out for two centuries.”

I nodded at the grim sight.

Indeed, I saw it far too easily. 

A dragon sated, asleep, and thoroughly clogging up room within the Royal Villa’s vault. 

There were practical applications to possessing a sleeping dragon, of course–stewards accidentally leading our nobility down several wrong hallways while also accidentally locking all the doors behind them being one of them. But not at the cost of our wealth being used as a mattress. 

Why, that’d simply be awful. What would my troll do? It’d be a professional insult to make him guard what a dragon already was.

“No worries, though~” said Coppelia, uttering the only words to make me worry. “I can fix this!”

Thus … she lifted up her scythe.

I was horrified.

“Excuse me! You surely cannot mean to murder your employer? That is not a precedent I wish to set!”

“Eh? I’m not going to murder him! I’m just going to hit him really hard!”

“... That isn’t trying to murder him?!”

“Ahaha~ don’t worry. There’s no way that’s anything more than a tickle. And for the big guy, it’ll be aimed right above his brows. One scratch there and it’s back to snoozing!”

“Coppelia, this is a dragon, not a cat.”

“... Would you prefer it if this was a cat?” 

I thought for a moment.

“No,” I admitted.

Coppelia gave an unabashed giggle.

Then, she raised her arms and stretched, before promptly bounding away with graceful ease.

Paying as little care to mortal danger as she did bakery signs not to touch the products, she leapt fearlessly like a moth to a flame. 

Higher and higher she went, her lithe form going unseen against the commanding presence of the dragon as it exited the realm of dreams. And then with an unnecessary twist in the air, she came down with her scythe held high above her in a tickle which looked remarkably like a normal attack.

“Dusk falls anew, the last light amidst paling faith. Luna Form, 6th Stance ... [Moonlit Divider].”

So normal, in fact, that only a falling piano offered a harsher entry back into the world of slumber.

Her scythe cleaved the air, leaving behind a trail of light to defy the same shadows which wreathed it. A sight usually guaranteeing that something which existed now wouldn’t in a few moments.

Instead–

Plink.

An unscathed dragon was the result.

Her scythe struck with all the force of a toothpick against a boulder, comically bouncing off the scales at the crown of its head. However, that didn’t mean there was no effect. 

The golden eyes blinked. 

Once, twice, three times … until finally the lids began to close once again.

I was stunned. As was Coppelia. 

“Huh,” she said while idly hanging off the tip of a horn. “I wasn’t expecting that to happen.”

“... Does that mean it actually worked?”

“Maybe. And that’s a problem.”

“Why is that a problem?” 

“Because these things never work.”

A sudden inhalation of breath from the dragon confirmed her well-founded fears.

All at once, a wave of gold crowns rushed towards its snout. The eyes which had begun to close remained half-lidded. And cheeks which had no means to form expressions nevertheless grew taut, the wrinkles becoming apparent even through the scales.

And then … an altogether different crease appeared upon its face.

One I’d seen often. Most keenly by the Holy Church’s highest representative as he was led through the Royal Villa’s expansive gardens, all of us having forgotten about his debilitating pollen allergy. Again.

This … This dragon.

Why, it was about to do something unfathomable!

… And the direction it faced was where a princess stood and a fallen librarian now lay!

Horrified at what was to come, I turned at once towards the helpless figure beside me. 

Without thought, I moved at once. 

My limbs obeyed naught but instinct as I hurriedly leaned down, reached out towards the defenceless girl, and with no regard to my own safety, bravely grabbed Dawning Summer and scampered away.

“Hm … hmmmpph!”

The flame which was unleashed was like the heart of a volcano bursting asunder. 

A sudden belt of molten lava erupted from the dragon’s maw, joined by a plume of smoke blacker than tar as it charred the very air. But this was no mage’s replica. It was a force unrestrained, able to melt the coldest steel along with the anvil which forged it. 

And now it was billowing towards me like a streaking comet. 

The temperature rose as though an open kiln had been dropped into a cupboard. Yet for all the light which now filled the cavern, all I saw was the blackness of death. A premonition written in every tale to involve a dragon’s flame. 

To be struck by dragonfire was to enjoy a brief cremation without ceremony. 

That was poor enough. But this was somehow worse.

This … This was a sneeze!

Not even a stream of flame sent out in anger … but an allergic reaction to Coppelia! 

To die to a dragon in righteous combat was at least inoffensive. But to die to a dragon due to it being tickled behind the ears? Why, that was so humiliating my ghost would never find rest amidst all the laughter!

No. I refused to contemplate it. 

Dragon or not, my end would come at a time and place of my choosing. And my schedule was currently so filled I didn’t need to look at it. Every action I took ticked something off.

All except death because a dragon didn’t use a handkerchief.

Thus, raising Starlight Grace, I … 

Fwooooooooooooosh.

… looked to the side as Dawning Summer promptly caught fire in my other hand.

“Wha–?!”

To my utter shock, what was a summer’s glow now became a living brand. 

One which drew all the molten snot towards it like rain towards a gutter. 

Alight with the fury of a hearthfire doused with kindling and lamp oil, the sword bloomed as the dragonfire was absorbed … no, devoured. 

Ribbons lashed the air as though cast forth from a whip, while embers dripped from the tip like a thousand fireflies.

A sight so beautiful and mesmerising, I could do nothing but immediately toss Grandmother’s sword to the ground, before promptly kicking dirt over it in order to smother the sudden flames.

It … It was terrifying!

“S-Stop! Stop at once!” I told the sword, increasing the pace of my shovelling. “Stop! You are only to burst into flames on demand! And only at a level which doesn’t overshadow my own brightness!”

Far from obeying its new owner, the sword only continued to merrily burn. A flame so wildly impractical even the hilt was now entirely wreathed. 

That, as it turned out, was the least of my problems.

“Hrrhmmmmmmm.”

Smoke and flames exited the dragon’s snout once more. Except this time, it wasn’t to signal another sneeze.

Our dragon was now very much awake.

Bwoomph. Bwooomph.

The sound of drums filled the cavern.

One by one, clawed legs wide enough to turn a hill giant into its own artisanal purée lifted from its bed, then slammed back into the gold. 

Like a princess sampling a new bath mat, the dragon’s great legs languidly tested the fine texture and the cooling metal.

Coppelia finally swung away as the dragon rose.

Higher and higher it went. A visage of regal power wrapped in the displeasure of one who was clearly not an early riser. As the dragon presented itself upon its hind legs, not a single missing scale was there to be exploited. And yet for all its majesty, it was still besmirched by a great blemish.

Those eyes doused in the foreign colour of gold, clashing with the green of its birth.

“GWWAAAAAAAAAARRRRRR.”

It roared.

A bellow so visceral, so primal it shook through the arms covering my ears. 

The ground itself quaked along with my limbs as the world threatened to end. Dust and bits of stone came falling down. And also Coppelia as she landed beside me, enthusiastic smile at the ready.

“Safe~” She turned to me and nodded. “... Okay! You get to decide! How do you want to be carried?”

I gingerly released my ears, still hearing the bellowing.

“Excuse me?”

“Over my shoulder or under my arm? You get to pick how you want to escape the giant fireball by the big grumpy dragon when he notices us in about five seconds.”

My mouth widened.

“C-Coppelia! … There are more appropriate ways to carry me than either as a rug or as a sack!”

“... Like as a fruit slime? Because that’s less carrying and more throwing and catching you as I go.”

An appalling suggestion … and not because experiencing that at least once sounded the slightest bit intriguing.

“There will be no need to carry me,” I declared, turning my frown towards the dragon as its tail scooped up a line of glittering coins. “We are not escaping.”

“Now that’s just pessimistic. We’re really good at escaping explosions.”

“Yes … Yes we are. But that’s beside the point. I do not mean to escape from this dragon. Not if it means seeing him again along with my mother asking why I seem to know him. I intend to put this entire Ouzelia debacle behind me. Not punt it down the road.”

“GWWWAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRR.”

A second bellow filled the cavern.

No … not just a bellow, but a yawn. 

Accompanied by a stretching of wings, they swept outwards like a pair of windmills. The shadows were even greater. An endless mural of darkness painted upon the cavern wall behind by the light of two swords. 

One of which I was still trying to put out.

For a moment, even my loyal handmaiden could only blink at me. 

However, any doubts she harboured were given no leave to fester. Nothing could break the strength of my noble intentions. And even less my wish to avoid association with this land of oddballs at all costs.

Thus, she nodded … then offered all her assistance by sitting atop her fallen colleague.

“Wooooooooooooooo!!” Coppelia raised an arm in cheer. “It’s time! The next stage of [Ball Of Doom]!”

“E-Excuse me! Please do not spread that name unnecessarily! It is not [Ball Of Doom]! It is a delicate gardening technique! … Furthermore, I am still in the process of refining the current iterations …”

“No problem! Cheap and underhanded is also good!”

“A slanderous insinuation. I am as fair and honourable as the kingdom I represent. And so long as your apple strudels are funded directly from our personal funds, that is the official line.”

“Got it~ how do you plan on fairly beating the really big dragon, then?”

I looked up at the dragon in question.

It didn’t take a forum of sages to know that there was only one answer–I didn’t.

After all, if a princess could simply defeat a dragon, I wouldn’t count them as my natural foes.

However … that didn't mean I had no contingencies in place.

On the contrary, it was precisely because I was a princess that I was uniquely suited to the task ahead. 

Knights may have lances and heroes outrageous amounts of luck. But I had a weapon greater than both. 

Not for slaying dragons. But for surviving them.

“I’ve no means of felling this dragon. But I’ve no need to. It is time to perform Emergency Dragon Protocol #57.”

Coppelia nodded with excitement, fists tightly scrunched against her chest. 

“Ooooh~ I never knew there were contingencies for facing a dragon which wasn’t running away faster than the guy next to you!”

“There isn’t. For commoners, at least.” I raised a hand to my lips, barely covering my smile. “Ohohoho … rejoice, Coppelia. And observe. For you shall now see a sight to burn into your memories brighter than any dragon flame. Note what you shall see, but never speak of it again.”

“Okie~”

I nodded … and then took a deep breath.

Yes, it was time at last to display my true qualities as a princess.

Thus, I patted myself down, then left the cheering of my audience behind as I strolled towards the disgruntled behemoth of death. 

An action so without precedent that the dragon shook away its waking temper to at last see the fragile maiden in its midst.

Within those maddened eyes, the black slits widened with all the right of one appalled at the impertinence of an open thief.

“GWWWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRR.”

Except I was no such thing.

I was an honoured guest.

And so I ignored the bellowing, trained as I was by the echoes in the Royal Villa whenever my father stubbed his toe against a door. I ignored the embers dribbling from the jaws, accustomed to the flames regularly seen exiting Clarise’s observatory. And I ignored the gaze of unremitting death, seeing only a pale imitation of my etiquette tutor when she found me admiring the vines beneath a window.

The dragon was unimpressed.

A neck stretched out as its entire frame lowered. 

The rows of guillotine teeth were revealed, each capable of grinding a chimney until it was indistinguishable from the soot it bore. Within its maw, an endless darkness was punctuated only by the heart of a flame so ancient it could melt the Summer Fae.

And against it all, I lifted Starlight Grace … then idly sheathed it away.

I offered a polite smile instead.

“Salutations,” I said with a nod, knees slightly bent, lifting the very hem of my skirt in a perfectly angled curtsy. “I am Princess Juliette Contzen, 5th in line to the Kingdom of Tirea. It is a pleasure to meet your acquaintance.”

The dragon stilled.

The smoke exiting its orifices didn’t lessen. But the shadows behind its wings did.

A moment later … it blinked.

Once. Twice. Three times.

Except this time, it wasn’t the allure of gold it saw. 

No … it was something far rarer, beyond the worth of any trove or the beauty of any trinket. Something which shone brighter than the lustre of any coin or jewel. 

A candle in the darkness, washing away the delirium of greed.

… Me.

Ohhohohohoho!

Here it was! My ultimate ability!

[Princess Presence]!

Indeed … I did not need my healing fingertip for this! 

All I required was my own aura … a light so warm and gentle, that a fourth blink later, neither curse nor madness could hold sway!

Like the first breath after a deep plunge, the dragon shuddered, sending not the tremor of a quake, but a song as calming as a summer draft through the air. 

The shadows rescinded. The veil of avarice was lifted from its eyes.

And what remained was as smooth as the finest jade.

After all–

Gold spoke to its greed. Yet I spoke to its heart. 

A princess without equal, even in the realm of fairy tales.

Thus … the dragon promptly reached out and wrapped a claw around me.

I nodded and smiled.

Yes.

This was indeed better.