With the battle finished in record time, what's going to happen to Airi and co?
Enjoy!
Chapter 7: Ymir’s Lovey-Dovey Strike Strategy: Mission Impossible (Part 2)
[No title]
The moment Elina entered the Iron Mountain, there was one thing she noticed: a carriage with the Earl’s coat of arms on display. The only people who were allowed to show it that ostentatiously were the very Earl or his family. In other words, her stepsister the General Claudette, or their father, the Earl himself.
Which meant, she needed to figure out who among them was it who had come. If it was the former, there would be no cause for concern; if it was the latter, she had to try to think of a way to get out of that place as soon as she could—after all, the Earl would bring her back with him the second he found her.
[I can’t let my journey end like this, especially not while I still don’t have any solid clue about Leina’s whereabouts.
How can I persuade him?]
As she pondered over it, a dazzling shine suddenly extended towards the ceiling.
“A Queen’s Blade?”
[Airi can’t possibly be involved, can she?]
Elina had a bad feeling about that. As far as Beautiful Fighters went, Airi was certainly strong, plus it’d spell bad news for the opponent if they didn’t know that she was actually an undead.
The same went for Melona; perhaps the common denominator of the fighters summoned by the Swamp Witch was their overwhelming superiority over others, even if their weak point was stamina.
Elina quitted investigating about the Earl, and turned towards where the battle was being held.
“Oh my?”
It seemed it had been settled quickly, on an unexpected note. Someone had lost easily.
“Just what is she doing...?”
Airi was following Ymir with a stunned Michel in tow; watching from afar, Elina could only take her hand to her forehead and sigh.
[I just took my eyes off them for a second, too...
Still, I’m the one who moved on my own, it’s unbecoming to blame Airi now.
One of the ruler’s duties is to forgive their subordinates.]
The Vance girl switched gears, and followed them, trying not to be noticed.
***
The bottom layer of the cave was wrapped in hot air, giving it the feeling like it was the breath coming from the earth. Three people were on the terrace protruding from the rock, looking at the lava lake spreading under their eyes.
“How’d you like this magnificent scenery!”
The dwarven princess smiled, the red hot lake as her backdrop. With the red illumination from below, her cheeks appeared a bit flushed as well.
“This lava contains numerous materials. We also extract the raw materials for Mada’antite and Mithotil from here.”
“I-Is that so?”
“Hm-hm, there’s only one volcano in the Continent spewing out plenty of minerals in molten state, and it’s this one.”
Michel cast his eyes away from the bragging dwarf; her figure was every bit as suggestive as it appeared at first sight.
“Say, Airi.”
“What is it, Sir Michel?”
“Why is this all happening, anyways?”
“I am not that sure either.”
The maid wore a confused expression even as she wiped off the sweat that appeared on his forehead. She had to be grateful for being a wraith there; otherwise, she’d be sweating bullets as well.
“For the time being, let us just wait for Lady Elina.”
Nodding at Airi’s whisper, he looked back at Ymir.
[Say what you like, but this naked apron she put on is too stimulating.]
“This is the true shape of the Iron Mountain itself.”
They were in the VIP room—where only royal family members or special guests could enter, as the princess had put it—, and Ymir had been telling the boy all about the wonders of the Iron Mountain.
“Sorry, I don’t understand what you mean.”
He didn’t understand her sudden fascination with naked aprons either.
“Hm, you don’t get it?”
“No.”
The princess sank her head deep, arms folded, then went briskly to a corner of the room, seemingly having come up with something. Her bare back and buttocks became exposed, which made Michel rush to look up towards the ceiling.
[It’s because of things like this that I don’t know where to look.]
“Oh well, it’s alright if you don’t get it. As long as I, the wife, know it, it’s all good.”
Ymir paid no heed to his actions, and kept exposing her body—a young one, if seen by human standards.
“Wife...?”
“Yes, you will become my husband.”
She answered as she looked for something, making some rustling sounds.
“S-Still, isn’t that look... embarrassing?”
“Hm, you mean this?”
The boy decided to go ahead and ask what he had been meaning to all along. In response, Ymir picked up the hem of her apron:
“This is... certainly embarrassing, but I did hear from Stemir that a wife must appear like this in front of her husband.”
Airi shook her head upon hearing that; apparently the princess had been deceived by a perverted old man. She might very well be as innocent as she looked.
“Never mind that, look at this!”
She stuck out a shiny rock at him.
“What’s that?”
“This is a stone of Mithotil ore.”
Airi involuntarily frowned at the rock. That ore, also called “God Iron”, was imbued with magical powers, and had a tremendous effect on dwellers from the spirit world which couldn’t be hurt with normal weapons... like wraiths such as herself, for one.
“You can buy a land along its corresponding nobility title with the mithotil that can be created with an ore about this size.”
“T-Then, you’re rich, right, Miss Ymir?”
“I’m the princess of the Iron Mountain. That much should tell you all you need to know.”
The diminutive princess smiled brightly. If she was able to get Michel to accept being her husband, she’d no longer have to deal with fussy chamberlains. Besides, even if the kid looked just like a helpless little boy, she felt something unfathomable when she looked into his eyes.
“Ah, yeah, one more thing. I keep throwing around the word ‘husband’, but it’s not like you need to do anything.”
“I don’t need to do anything?”
“You can just leave the trades and technology to me and my family. You only need to spend your time leisurely here, with three meals and a nap each day, and a beautiful girl as your wife.”
“T-That would be a problem.”
Trying his best not to look at the approaching dwarf, his eyes went to the maid in search of help.
“Lady Ymir, Sir Michel is on a journey.”
“Is that so? Well then, you don’t need to continue it anymore.”
“I cannot allow that. I might have agreed to bring Sir Michel here as per my defeat in our Queen’s Blade, but the interruption of his journey was included nowhere in your wish.”
The redhead flatly refused to leave the boy in that mountain as the other’s husband.
“And what’s more, Sir Michel is under the supervision of Elina, her guardian. No one can decide on such things without her permission.”
“What, are both of you slaves of that so-called Lady Elina?”
“I might be a slave, but Sir Michel’s case is different.”
Airi placed her hand on the collar, feeling proud. She was no longer a servant of the Swamp Witch; she was now Elina’s slave.
“In other words, I hafta get permission from this so-called Lady Elina.”
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