Arc-7 Ch-17

The ruins stood apart from the entertainment district lined with lodging facilities, as well as from the village nestled within a valley surrounded by trees.

Their appearance could most accurately be described as a gigantic box constructed of stone and metal, abandoned deep within the forest.

The faintly exposed surfaces were covered in ivy, moss, or even trees. Some sections were rusted or corroded, while many others still gleamed with a polished luster.

Near the entrance, which appeared to be a hole forcibly opened from the outside, several adventurers had gathered and were making their preparations.

These ruins were clearly not a product of nature. What kind of relics might be slumbering within them?

Even after witnessing the world’s rare thinking sphere that speaks language, and furthermore the giant lost-item airship that serves as its main body, standing before this dungeon still caused my body temperature to rise steadily, and I could not suppress my excitement.

This is a habit common among the nobles of the Holfort Kingdom. Our ancestors yearned for the vast azure sky and stepped boldly into unknown worlds.

Ah, my heart dances.

Indeed, at this very moment, I was fully savoring the sensation of being alive. Even if the destination was a dungeon already widely known, that fact did not change. There was still some time remaining until the promised hour.

The person I was waiting for was my beloved husband, Leon Fou Bartfort. The excitement of adventure combined with the surge of affection created a scorching thrill, and alongside it, a deep sense of satisfaction.

I had scolded the obsessive Leon as a pervert countless times, yet in this state, I could not criticize him too harshly either.

“He's sooooo late! Just how long is he going to make us wait!?”

From right beside me, Ariel’s voice rang out, making no effort to conceal her displeasure. The nearby adventurers, startled, turned their gazes toward us.

I had taught her many times that raising one’s voice in public was unbecoming behavior for a noble young lady, yet her volume was enough to blow away such upbringing entirely.

She is undoubtedly my own daughter, whom I gave birth to in pain, yet why does she lack awareness as a noble young lady and behave so coarsely?

It is difficult to believe she is a twin born in the same year, the same month, and on the same day as Lionel, who was quietly sketching the surroundings of the ruins.

I have given the same level of ladylike education to our second daughter Roxanne and our third daughter Melanie, and now they can conduct themselves in a manner unworthy of shame for daughters of a Earl’s family.

For some reason, only our eldest daughter Ariel possesses physical abilities far beyond girls of her age and is overflowing with vigor. On the other hand, her aptitude as a noble young lady barely reaches a passing mark.

If the Bartfort family were lower nobility or commoners, I might overlook such behavior. However, since she was born into the household of a high-ranking Earl, she is expected to display education and conduct befitting that status.

The reputation of a lord and their family is directly tied to the reputation of their territory. Especially for newly risen nobles, it is natural that scrutiny from other noble families becomes even more severe.

Is Ariel’s personality inherited from Leon?

No, Leon only began receiving a full-fledged noble education after our engagement.

For a second son of lower nobility, raised almost like a commoner, to be acknowledged within high society, achievements and a political marriage alone would not suffice.

It was undoubtedly necessary for Leon to possess his own talent and to exert tremendous effort. And yet, why is my daughter so utterly lacking in chastity and grace?

“Ariel, calm yourself. If the daughter of a Earl’s family behaves like that, it will lead to the reputation that the Bartfort family lacks dignity.”

“But Mother, don’t you get annoyed at Father for not showing up even though we’ve been waiting forever!?”

“Refrain from such language. Besides, there is still time remaining until the meeting hour.”

“You always say we should avoid making others wait, don’t you?”

“That depends on the time and the situation. How one conducts oneself while waiting for a gentleman is what tests a lady’s grace.”

“But you yourself are fidgeting quite restlessly, Mother.”

“That is merely your imagination. Refrain from making uncertain statements.”

“No, but…”

“It is your imagination.”

“…Yes, I understand.”

I directly denied Ariel’s words. I rarely become angry during meetings with Leon. I am simply stimulating his conscience in proportion to the length of time he makes me wait, and afterward proposing conditions advantageous to me.

I am absolutely not doing anything akin to testing Leon’s affection. It is a subtle nuance of an ideal marital relationship, and yet the day has come when my own child views me as akin to a shameless couple unconcerned with the eyes of others.

“…By the way, Lionel, what are you doing?”

“I’m drawing a diagram of the dungeon to attach to my assignment report.”

“You could simply take a photo instead.”

“A clumsy drawing produced by the student themselves receives a better evaluation from the instructor than a photo easily taken with a tool.”

“You’re already enrolled in the advanced class without going to such lengths.”

“If I want to create even a little distance between myself and my classmates, I cannot afford to skimp on effort.”

With that, Lionel once again continued sketching the scenery surrounding the dungeon onto his drawing paper with a pencil. When I secretly peeked from behind, the drawing was quite beautiful, yet it also felt a little too realistic.

Our eldest daughter Ariel is a problem child, but our eldest son Lionel is overly serious and lacks mental leeway. As his mother, I cannot take my eyes off him either.

Their personalities and aptitudes are so completely opposite that the burden placed upon me is essentially doubled. Lionel has been a son who required little attention since early childhood.

Even at an age when he should have been most eager to play, I have no recollection of him ever complaining about the education imposed upon him as the heir.

For newly elevated nobles or great merchants, the talent of the first generation is crucial, but the aptitude of the second generation who succeeds them is equally important.

If the first generation is required to possess the talent to blaze a new path, then the second generation must possess the talent to maintain and stabilize that path. What is demanded of each is fundamentally different.

No matter how great the achievements one amasses to make a name, countless examples exist of those who fell into ruin in an instant due to failure in educating their successors.

Considering this point, from the perspective of the wife of the current head of the household, Lionel’s aptitude as the next head of the Bartfort count’s family can be said to be entirely sufficient.

However, that is ultimately a political judgment. As a mother, it is parental love that inevitably gives rise to worry.

By imposing upon my son the position of heir to the Bartfort count’s family, and watching him continue to strive without ever voicing dissatisfaction, doubts inevitably arise.

If he is too obedient to his parents and his own will grows feeble, the purpose is reversed. If he places the mission imposed by his parents or his family above all else, remaining unaware of his own emotions and happiness, then he is not a vessel fit to govern people.

I myself was once raised amid the expectations of those around me to become the next queen consort, so I understand this all too well.

From that perspective, Lionel is overly mature, not only compared to myself but even when measured against Leon’s childhood.

His tendency to make judgments through rational thinking can be said to be ideal for a ruler, yet I faintly sense aspects in which he fails to consider the subtle movements of others’ hearts. Humans are profoundly irrational beings, not machines or tools.

There are countless phenomena in which passion becomes a detonator that produces results beyond one’s own capacity, or in which one pours out affection only to be disliked in return, overturning all predictions.

The more one attempts to handle humans rationally through reason and mathematics, the more distortions arise. Through my involvement in territorial management, I have come to understand that theoretical values are nothing more than numbers calculated upon paper.

Lionel likely holds within himself an ideal image of what a lord should be, and his ability to strive toward that ideal is an excellent quality. However, from an outside perspective, he lacks far too much leeway.

“Lionel, does your heart not dance at the prospect of your first dungeon exploration?”

“Not particularly. I’ve been looking around since earlier for anything that might earn bonus points for the report.”

“That’s not what I mean. I’m asking about your curiosity toward unknown places, or your enthusiasm for this adventure.”

“It’s a dungeon where surveys have already progressed, more like an amusement facility. Besides, with the whole family staying at a nearby luxury inn, I’m not childish enough to get excited over something like this.”

“…………”

It was a response utterly devoid of charm.

Leon himself is a man with little interest in adventure, but our son Lionel responded even more coldly. The sight of him calmly writing in his notebook without even properly looking at my face was truly infuriating, even though he is my own child.

He likely treated his cousin and fiancée, Theresia, in the same manner. I can understand Dorothea’s feelings when she complained about Lionel’s curt attitude.

Had our son always been this cold-hearted?

At the very least, only a few months ago, I remember him as an honest and pure-hearted son who possessed his own thoughts regarding his role as heir.

Leon and I have six children in total, with the eldest being Lionel and Ariel.

Among high-ranking nobles, most parents do not raise their children personally. However, we have made it a principle to take the lead in educating our own children.

Even if we employ wet nurses or specialized educators, the Bartfort Earl’s family, being newly elevated nobles, lacks established norms for successor training. Moreover, bringing in instructors from my parental home, the Redgrave ducal family, would create discrepancies.

Nobles are obliged to receive an education appropriate to their rank and the lands they govern; if they are not taught the knowledge and conduct befitting their position, they will mature into youths who fail to understand their standing and invite resentment, or into mediocre fools who overestimate themselves and leave exploitable weaknesses.

In this sense, as generations accumulate, educational systems aligned with a family’s status and regional character will naturally take shape. At present, however, all we can do is raise our own children to serve as exemplars.

"Is life at the Royal Academy fulfilling?"

"Why ask that so suddenly?"

"It is merely idle conversation while we wait for your father. As your mother, is it truly so strange that I would wish to understand your current circumstances?"

"…I cannot exactly say that it is enjoyable."

"Is there no one around you to whom you can truly open your heart?"

"All of my classmates are exceptional, and every one of them is a rival in competition. If I reveal any weakness, I will be placed at a disadvantage."

"I see…"

"In any case, gatherings of nobles are nothing more than enemies deceiving one another. Trusting them would be unnatural."

That judgment is entirely reasonable as a form of self-protection.

High society may present itself as a brilliant spectacle, yet in truth it is a nest of demons, where individuals ceaselessly undermine one another in a brutal struggle for rank and precedence.

When I attended the Royal Academy, the advanced classes were composed exclusively of nobles; regardless of how crude their character might be, as long as noble blood ran in their veins, any misconduct was excused, an utterly distorted environment.

It would not be an exaggeration to describe it as a miniature garden symbolizing the corruption of the Holfort Kingdom. For that institution to change, two wars were required.

At the present Royal Academy, students are evaluated according to talent and conduct, irrespective of social standing.

Even commoners are permitted to enter the advanced classes if they demonstrate excellence, while those who lack ability are barred from enrollment no matter how illustrious their lineage may be.

This marks the decline of bloodline supremacy and the ascent of meritocracy; without question, the overall caliber of students has improved compared to my own days there.

As a consequence, the standards demanded have risen accordingly. For a noble, to be raised amid privilege yet fall short of commoners is nothing less than humiliating.

I suspect that the reason Lionel lacks the composure he once possessed lies in the immense pressure exerted by those around him.

As his mother, I feel compelled to say something to him, yet even as I reflect on it, the right words fail to present themselves.

It may sound arrogant, but I remember myself as having been a remarkably accomplished young lady, both as a duke’s daughter and as a prince’s fiancée.

As for Leon, although he received insufficient education in childhood and was raised almost as a commoner, after earning a peerage through military merit, and through my guidance alongside his own efforts, he has come to be widely acknowledged as a respectable individual.

There is no possibility that Lionel is unaware of our reputation; empty words of comfort would surely be seen through by a son as perceptive as he is.

Even so, it remains necessary to speak. Unless feelings are put into words, they cannot be understood by another.

More than fifteen years have passed since I first met Leon. Through marrying into the Bartfort family, I have come to hold as a firm conviction that believing emotions can be conveyed without words is an act of selfishness.

"KYAAAAAAAAA!!?"

Just as I was about to speak to Lionel, a shrill female scream resounded in all directions.

After a brief moment of hesitation, I quickly covered my mouth; the scream had erupted so suddenly that I could not immediately determine whether it had been my own voice.

After confirming that it had not come from me, I looked around. The owner of the scream was neither Lionel nor Ariel. A confused murmur spread among the adventurers waiting at the dungeon entrance.

Ariel, who had grown bored of waiting alongside Lionel and listening to our conversation, had at some point moved right beside me.

It was most unfortunate that Leon, who is accustomed to dealing with perilous situations, happened to be absent at such a moment.

A figure that appeared to be an adventurer crawled out from the dungeon entrance.

His expression could not be discerned, not because his face was concealed, but because it was drenched in a vivid crimson liquid, like an overripe fruit that had burst open.

"…gh… ga…"

After expelling something from his mouth that could not be identified as either speech or a sigh, the man collapsed face down onto the ground.

Like a writhing caterpillar, his body continued to convulse. The full extent of his injuries was unclear, but if left unattended, he would undoubtedly perish from severe blood loss.

None of the surrounding adventurers moved to assist him; everyone stood frozen, unable to comprehend what was unfolding.

Ignoring the immobilized crowd around me, I approached the man, casting aside any concern about staining my adventuring attire.

"Cloth!"

"Eh?"

"Someone bring me clean cloth and water to wipe away the blood!"

"Y-yes!"

I issued sharp commands to the dazed onlookers. For adventurers, clean cloth is indispensable, serving not only to wipe away blood but also as bandages or even as makeshift rope.

I dampened the cloth with water and carefully wiped the blood from his face; each time, the wounded adventurer let out a low groan.

Unless the wound could be identified, even attempting to stop the bleeding would be futile. The skin of the head is thin and dense with blood vessels, so even minor injuries can result in heavy bleeding.

Proceeding with caution, I eventually succeeded in revealing the wound. A nauseating stench of blood spread through the area, but as women are frequently exposed to blood through menstruation and childbirth, it remained within what I could endure.

Fortunately, the injury had narrowly avoided vital sensory organs such as the eyes and nose. Nevertheless, the cut was deep, and the amount of blood lost was substantial.

The exposed cross section of the wound was extremely irregular; at the very least, it was clear that it had not been inflicted by a bladed weapon.

Upon examining the rest of his body, I noticed that not only his face but multiple areas of his clothing were torn and damaged. Several wounds near his back suggested that he had been attacked by something.

"…u…"

"Can you hear my voice!?"

"Wa… water…"

"Giving you a large amount of water could worsen the bleeding. I am sorry, but please endure it a little longer."

Administering excessive water to an injured person can often cause a sudden deterioration in condition. Moreover, I possess only basic first aid knowledge and am no physician.

While a certain degree of hemostasis may be possible, even an amateur like myself could tell that without prompt professional treatment, the man’s life was in grave danger.

The adventurers who merely gathered at a distance without offering assistance were infuriating. This was an emergency. Did none of them intend to act?

"Lionel! Ariel!"

"…Eh?"

"What are you doing! Come here at once!"

"Y-yes, understood!"

Unable to conceal my irritation, I raised my voice at the children. Thinking back, although I had scolded them loudly on occasion before, this was the first time I had shouted while genuinely overwhelmed by emotion.

To the twins who hurried over, I instructed them to press cloth firmly against the man’s wounds to stem the bleeding, then turned my attention back toward the dungeon.

What in the world was happening inside those ruins?

When I strained my ears, I could tell that the sounds from within were steadily growing louder. Something was approaching the entrance.

I drew the pistol I carried, steadied my breathing, disengaged the safety, and assumed a firing stance. My finger rested on the trigger, my shoulders tensed, prepared to fire at any moment.

My target was the unknown entity about to emerge. Since it might attack without warning, I could not allow my guard to drop.

"Please! Wait!"

"Don’t shoot! We are humans!"

The figures who emerged were a man and a woman. Judging from their attire, they were clearly adventurers.

The man appeared injured and was leaning heavily on the woman’s shoulder for support. With each step, he dragged one foot and groaned in pain.

As they exited the dungeon, more adventurers followed in succession. Some bore only minor injuries, while others were visibly gravely wounded, and the area around the entrance descended into instant chaos.

"What happened inside!?"

I called out to the adventurers who had returned from the dungeon, yet everyone was so agitated by excitement and the pain of their injuries that I was unable to obtain a clear answer from any of them. 

"It's monsters. Monsters appeared inside the dungeon."

"What?"

"They attacked us without warning. There were several monsters we had never seen before, and everyone panicked and fled."

"Monsters that attack people? What did they look like?"

"They were like beasts. Four-legged creatures with fangs and claws."

"No, they were standing upright like people."

"That's wrong! Didn't they have countless legs like insects!?"

The testimonies of the adventurers who escaped were inconsistent. Although the dungeon was reportedly well lit, even the most fundamental details, such as the monsters' shapes, varied depending on who spoke.

The sole point they all shared was that the monsters had attacked humans with unmistakable hostile intent.

Is this the reason the capital requested Leon?

If that is the case, then they are using him far too conveniently. My husband is absolutely not a disposable tool for solving the Holfort Kingdom’s inconvenient problems.

"Are there still people left behind inside the dungeon?"

"I don't know. Everyone panicked and ran."

"This dungeon was supposed to be safe, wasn't it!? Weapons are restricted, and we were never informed about monsters appearing!"

"Hey, someone! Has anyone seen my companion!?"

Some were confused, some were enraged, and some collapsed into tears.

The reactions of those who had escaped differed, but it was immediately apparent that everyone was deeply shaken.

The reason the damage had spread so extensively was likely due to the restrictions on weapons allowed within the elf village.

If deaths occur at a tourist destination, its reputation suffers and visitors cease to come. That is why airports strictly regulate which airships may dock and restrict the carrying of armor and weapons.

The same principle applied to this dungeon exploration. The ruins within the elf village were advertised as a tourist dungeon where no magical beasts appeared.

Anyone could enter as long as they paid the fee, but only weapons with low lethality were permitted.

If monsters attacked under such conditions, helpless victims would inevitably be created, unable to mount any meaningful resistance.

"Lionel, Ariel. You two stay here, care for the injured, and wait for your father to arrive."

"Please wait, Mother. Where do you intend to go?"

"I am going to confirm whether there are injured people still inside the dungeon."

"That's far too reckless!"

"There is still the possibility that monsters remain inside. Would it not be wiser to wait for the village authorities or Father to arrive?"

It was only natural for the children to try to stop me. Entering alone a dungeon where monsters had appeared was tantamount to courting death.

Even so, the reason I moved toward the dungeon was because I am a noble, a wife, and a mother.

"I am fully aware of that. However, abandoning the injured is a serious transgression for a noble. Moreover, I cannot dismiss the possibility that the monsters may advance toward the village if the damage spreads further."

"So that is why you insist on going!?"

"That is the duty of one born into nobility. If one cannot uphold it, one has no right to stand above others."

Had it been only myself, I likely would have chosen to evacuate.

However, not only my children but numerous adventurers were present. In such circumstances, if we nobles abandoned the injured and fled, there was no telling what sort of reputation we would earn.

Those who stand above commoners are required to possess qualities and conduct befitting that position. The fact that many nobles panicked, fled, and even collaborated with the enemy during the war with the former Fanoss Duchy remains an indelible disgrace upon the kingdom’s nobility.

"I will merely confirm the presence of injured individuals and assess the situation. If anything unusual occurs, I will withdraw immediately."

"Wait, Mother! I will go with you!"

"What are you saying, Ariel!?"

Lionel stared in shock at Ariel’s request to accompany me. Although I did not voice it, I shared his astonishment.

I had ordered them to remain behind precisely to keep them away from danger. If they followed me, the order would lose all meaning.

I had known her to be spirited, but I had never imagined she would go this far.

"I'm worried about you going alone, Mother! I won’t be a burden!"

"Stop it, Ariel. Don’t trouble Mother."

"Lionel, stay out of this! Aren’t you worried about Mother!?"

"Don’t you understand that Mother is deliberately trying not to involve us!?"

"Then you can stay here and watch over things! Don’t act superior when you’re such a coward!"

"What did you just say!?"

"Stay here like a good little boy until Father arrives! I wonder what Father will think when he sees you left behind while Mother and I go!"

"Don’t mock me! I am the heir to a earl’s house as well! I’m going too!"

Why did it come to this?

Their sharp exchange only worsened the situation. For Lionel, being looked down upon by Leon or myself was an unbearable humiliation.

Even if I attempted to persuade them to stay behind, precious time would likely be wasted.

If someone still inside the dungeon was gravely injured, their chances of survival diminished with every passing moment.

I had very few choices left.

"Very well. I permit you both to accompany me."

"Yes!"

"Understood!"

"However! You will follow my instructions without argument! If you cannot promise that, I will leave you here!"

After confirming that both children nodded, I turned back toward the dungeon entrance, drew in a deep breath, steeled my resolve, and stepped forward.

The interior of the dungeon was a tangled fusion of metal and vegetation, resembling a piece of avant-garde art.

The ceiling, floor, and walls were entirely metallic, yet dense trees grew within, and in some areas vines and weeds covered the ground so thoroughly that it was barely visible.

Even civilizations that surpass our own technology are eventually swept away and left to decay by the passage of time and the power of nature.

A deep sense of transience welled up within my heart. Under ordinary circumstances, I would have been tempted to search for treasure, but that was entirely impossible now.

As we advanced deeper, abandoned luggage lay scattered across the floor.

Fresh bloodstains soaked into the floors and walls at various points. This was likely where the adventurers had been attacked.

The reddish-black smears, as though paint had been flung violently, combined with the lingering stench of blood, vividly recalled the misery that had unfolded here.

"Look at that!!"

In the direction Ariel indicated, a black object lay on the ground. It twitched faintly, and though difficult to discern, a voice calling for help could be heard.

"Wait, Ariel!!"

I stopped her with my voice as she attempted to rush forward. While my daughter looked at me in confusion, I sensed unmistakable signs of life from elsewhere.

Faster than conscious thought, an overwhelming emotion seized my heart.

A blazing passion that scorched my body and seared my soul surged forth, taking form, warping space, and manifesting before me.

A fireball the size of a fist floated in midair, radiating far brighter than the dungeon’s illumination and exposing the figures that had been lurking.

They were grotesque monsters. Perhaps they could be described as an amalgamation of human, serpent, beast, and bird, transformed into insect-like forms.

They resembled grotesque animals forcibly assembled from a child’s clumsy clay sculptures.

Arms and wings sprouted from impossible locations, some utterly useless, scraping along the ground and incapable of fulfilling their original purposes.

They could scarcely stand, yet they moved their limbs deftly to propel themselves, at times slithering like snakes and at others climbing walls like insects.

Now I understood clearly why the adventurers who had been attacked were unable to describe them accurately.

At least to my knowledge, I had never once seen such creatures, neither in illustrated books nor in scholarly texts.

And now, monsters that slaughter humans were about to set their sights on my daughter?

Unforgivable. Absolutely unforgivable, you wretches.

As my heart surged with fierce exhilaration, my mind entered the opposite state, becoming icy cold and razor sharp.

Having finally found targets upon whom I could unleash all the resentment and irritation I had accumulated over the past several days, I became utterly merciless.

Indeed, perhaps I truly am a wicked woman.

The one delighting in the presence of prey was not the monsters, but myself. As if mirroring my exalted emotions, the fireball flickered ever more intensely.

"Step back, Ariel, Lionel."

At that moment, I was dangerously excited. I was so enraged that a single lapse could endanger the children. Do you understand, nameless monsters?

The most fearsome moment for a female beast is when she defends her young. And the Bartfort family never forgives any existence that dares harm its own.

I shall carve my name into your very souls.

The name of Angelica Fou Bartfort.

┳⁠━━━━⁠━⁠⁠━⁠━⁠━━━⁠┳

Authors Note

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Dungeon entry and monster appearance.

The monster designs were referenced from the comic adaptation.

The twins are still immature in many respects, but please look forward to their future growth.

Additional note: At the requester’s request, illustrations were drawn by yamu-sama and Hyaku Nichi Yume-sama. My deepest thanks to both.

yamu-sama  Pixiv(adult content warning)

Hyaku Nichi Yume-sama Pixiv (adult content warning)

I would greatly appreciate any opinions or impressions, as they will serve as encouragement for me moving forward.