81. Princesses & Queens (I)

That man.

How dare he?!

The moment he grabbed her, she should've kicked him between the legs! What had come over her? Just… the way he growled at her, deep and raspy, the way he looked at her… it was like all her thoughts went out the window.

"Arrgh!" She took her anger out on a flock of passing Frost Seraphs. Blasted them to dust with a flick of her staff.

The worst part was, she owed him now. He must be feeling proud of himself, swooping in like that. She reckoned he was used to girls swooning in those muscley arms of his. The thought made her want to puke.

She buried her face in her hands and groaned.

"I can't believe I'm losing my mind over some—some run-of-the-mill himbo," she mumbled. "Get yourself together, Nessa."

She tried to keep things in perspective. She was Vanessa Volkova, World Rank 28, heiress to the House of Volkova, one of the most storied noble families in Europe—she had queens of England and Russia in her line. And now she was the princess of the North Star Faction. Perhaps the most powerful Faction in the world, what with her mother's World Ranking. She had some of the most eligible men in the world on their knees for her—Top-20 World Rankers, even—and she didn't spare them a second glance!

Meanwhile, who was he? A nobody! Everything about him screamed simpleton. Six months prior he was probably a farm boy or something equally ridiculous. He wouldn't have been fit to be her servant.

That did make her feel better.

She let out a tight breath.

…Who was he anyway?

How do you really kill that Marquis? He didn't seem like he was boasting. And he seemed strong too…

She looked up at her mini-map. And saw the dot not ten feet from her. And she felt a stab of pure horror.

She turned slowly around, praying to God it wasn't who she thought it was.

There he stood at the mouth of the tunnel, blinking at her.

She cried out, reddening further. Had he heard all that?

"I wasn't—I wasn't talking about you!" She spluttered. "Who'd fancy you, you ugly brute?!"

"… what?" Rumbled the man, blinking. "I was just wondering if you knew where the boss was."

God. He looked so stupid! Just look at him blinking and scratching his head like a moron. Sure—so maybe he was a little handsome. But he was thick as a brick! What could she possibly have been thinking?

"If I'd seen the boss, I wouldn't be wandering around here like a headless chicken, would I?" She scoffed. "Idiot. And didn't I tell you not to follow me?"

An awkward look crossed his face. "But… there's only one boss left…"

"Tch!"

Just then a swarm of red dots flitted out from the tunnel ahead. More Frost Seraphs. Snarling she swept out her staff, and a Blizzard Gale crushed them into the cavern walls with incredible force. One tried to get out of it, shrieking and flailing but she sucked it back in and ground it to little glittering shards.

The big oaf just stared at her, his mouth a little open. That's right, she thought proudly.

"You do know, by the way," she said crossing her arms. "If he didn't wait for me to tire out, I would've beaten him myself. I didn't need your help!"

"… What?"

"My fight! Against the Marquis!"

"Oh." The big guy scratched his head again. "I believe you."

"Hmph."

Then they were just staring each other. She wasn't sure what to say. She panicked.

"I'm going left," she said, gesturing at the tunnel's head trying to sound self-assured. Like she was the one in charge here. That's right—she was taking charge. "You go right! If I catch you stalking me…"

She gestured at the wall, where she'd smashed the Frost Seraphs. "Am. I. Understood?"

She stared him down, feeling powerful.

And she was pleased to see he was the one who folded.

"Alright," he said, raising his hands, looking a little exasperated.

She marched off through the tunnel she chose, feeling proud of herself.

***

…What?

Zane blinked.

Well. He supposed he was going right.

He found a few Golems trudging about. This time he started loading his Axes before they even came up, so he could one-shot the darn things, giving their little bird groupies nothing to work with.

That mean girl's powers would have come in useful. But man. She really hated him. He went. And he wasn't even sure what he'd done wrong.

Anyway.

He kept on going. Eventually the thin line of the tunnel on his mini-map opened up. There was a room up ahead—A room glittering with yellow dots. A new treasure area?

A door greeted him up ahead, this heavy, thick slab of dense ice, and on it was one of those giant steering wheel thingies you saw on bank vaults.

𝕍𝕒𝕦𝕝𝕥 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝔽𝕣𝕠𝕤𝕥 𝕂𝕚𝕟𝕘 (ℂ+)

𝕁𝕠𝕥𝕦𝕟𝕟, 𝕃𝕖𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕣 𝕀𝕔𝕖 𝔾𝕚𝕒𝕟𝕥, 𝕤𝕥𝕠𝕣𝕖𝕤 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕗𝕣𝕦𝕚𝕥𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕔𝕠𝕟𝕢𝕦𝕖𝕤𝕥 𝕚𝕟 𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕀𝕞𝕡𝕖𝕣𝕚𝕒𝕝 𝕍𝕒𝕦𝕝𝕥. 𝕋𝕠 𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕣, 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕞𝕦𝕤𝕥 𝕤𝕠𝕝𝕧𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕋𝕙𝕠𝕦𝕤𝕒𝕟𝕕-𝕐𝕖𝕒𝕣 ℝ𝕚𝕕𝕕𝕝𝕖 𝕠𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕕𝕠𝕠𝕣. ℍ𝕚𝕟𝕥: 𝕎𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕚𝕤 𝕠𝕟𝕝𝕪 𝕗𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕕 𝕚𝕟 𝕨𝕚𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕣?

There were a bunch of ice runes carved on there, glowing pale blue, and underneath there were a few lines of text. It translated neatly as Zane read:

𝕀 𝕝𝕚𝕧𝕖 𝕨𝕙𝕖𝕟 𝕒𝕝𝕝 𝕖𝕝𝕤𝕖 𝕕𝕚𝕖𝕤 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕕𝕚𝕖 𝕨𝕙𝕖𝕟 𝕒𝕝𝕝 𝕖𝕝𝕤𝕖 𝕝𝕚𝕧𝕖𝕤. 𝕐𝕠𝕦 𝕞𝕒𝕪 𝕗𝕚𝕟𝕕 𝕞𝕖 𝕚𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕕𝕖𝕡𝕥𝕙𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕗𝕚𝕖𝕣𝕔𝕖𝕤𝕥 𝔹𝕝𝕚𝕫𝕫𝕒𝕣𝕕 𝕪𝕖𝕥 𝕟𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕣 𝕚𝕟 𝕔𝕝𝕚𝕞𝕖𝕤 𝕨𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕖—

Okay, this wasn't happening.

Zane got out his Axes and gave it a slash. It did less than he'd hoped. But it did leave a mark. So you could damage these things.

In Zane's experience, anything you could solve with your brain was better solved by brute strength.

So he did. He just stood there and loaded his Axes with so much storm fire they were melting little craters into the ice they sat on. Then he slashed a brilliant cross on the vault door.

There was a blinding explosion.

And it was smoking and melting a little, and pretty darn scarred. But still standing.

… This thing was really tough.

Oh well. He could just do it again, couldn't he?

So he did. Again and again until it cracked the thing open all the way. Then he gave it a hearty kick, and the slabs gave out.

He was admitted into a glittering chamber. Mounds of glistening gemstones, red and green and blue, lay everywhere. And nestled atop them as though they were plush cushions—huge golden totems. Giant horned crowns. Random statues—like one of a gargoyle with sapphires for eyes.

Then there were the pillars of ice scattered throughout the room. Thick chests were frozen in the middle of them.

He freed one with Stormfire and looked inside. He found a wealth of mid-grade essence stones. Another had clumps of 'essence sapphire.' A third had diamonds as big as his head. Just lots of rich-looking stuff. Reina could probably make good use of this stuff. He imagined it would trade for a lot with the Essence Beacon.

He got farther into the Vault and started seeing human stuff. Dented breastplates, broken gauntlets scattered around, crooked smashed helms. Also, Bags of Holding filled with all kinds of adventurer's goodies. Mostly healing vials, essence vials. Some changes of armor. One D-grade Escape Portal. It was lucky you could store Bags of Holding in Bags of Holding. He'd need a lot of them to haul all this stuff home.

At the very end of the Vault lay the thickest ice pillar of all. Just one thing was frozen inside. A Bag of Holding like none he'd ever seen. It was woven through with gold thread—not fake gold either. He wasn't sure how he could tell, but it just looked expensive.

He burned it out of the ice and grabbed hold of it. Sure enough—

𝔹𝕒𝕘 𝕠𝕗 ℍ𝕠𝕝𝕕𝕚𝕟𝕘 (𝔹)

𝕊𝕥𝕠𝕣𝕖𝕤 𝕒 𝕡𝕠𝕔𝕜𝕖𝕥 𝕕𝕚𝕞𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕚𝕠𝕟 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟, 𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕠𝕨𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕚𝕥𝕤 𝕠𝕨𝕟𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕠 𝕔𝕒𝕣𝕣𝕪 𝕒𝕟 𝕚𝕟𝕧𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕠𝕣𝕪 𝕠𝕗 𝕠𝕓𝕛𝕖𝕔𝕥𝕤 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕦𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕓𝕦𝕣𝕕𝕖𝕟 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕚𝕣 𝕤𝕡𝕒𝕔𝕖 𝕠𝕣 𝕨𝕖𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥. 𝔸𝕥 𝔹-𝕘𝕣𝕒𝕕𝕖, 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕥𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕤𝕦𝕣𝕖 𝕔𝕒𝕟 𝕤𝕥𝕠𝕣𝕖 𝕒𝕡𝕡𝕣𝕠𝕩𝕚𝕞𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕝𝕪 𝟙 𝕞𝕚𝕝𝕖 𝕓𝕪 𝟙 𝕞𝕚𝕝𝕖 𝕓𝕪 𝟙 𝕞𝕚𝕝𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕤𝕡𝕒𝕔𝕖.

It was the highest-grade Bag of Holding he'd ever seen. He almost couldn't imagine what you'd even do with that much space. When you looked inside, there was barely anything in it. A ton of vials of healing. Some… smoked fish? And colorful candies? A few mirrors—a pocket mirror, one full length. And perfume. Several sets of clothes, all fancy robes, the sort you'd wear to a dance.

… what? The other stuff, the armor, made sense. Who brought this stuff to a dungeon raid?

Then there was a silk-bound manual with pages soft to the touch, infused with a faint sweet fragrance. The cover had intricate gold embossings… he swore they were of two bodies intertwined.

𝕄𝕖𝕡𝕙𝕚𝕤𝕥𝕠'𝕤 ℙ𝕝𝕖𝕒𝕤𝕦𝕣𝕖 𝕊𝕦𝕥𝕣𝕒 (𝔹)

𝔸 𝔻𝕦𝕒𝕝 ℂ𝕦𝕝𝕥𝕚𝕧𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟 𝕊𝕦𝕥𝕣𝕒 𝕞𝕒𝕕𝕖 𝕓𝕪 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝔻𝕖𝕞𝕠𝕟 𝕄𝕖𝕡𝕙𝕚𝕤𝕥𝕠 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕝𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕣 𝕕𝕦𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕚𝕣 𝕙𝕠𝕟𝕖𝕪𝕞𝕠𝕠𝕟. 𝔹𝕪 𝕙𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕖𝕤𝕤𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕡𝕠𝕨𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝕡𝕝𝕖𝕒𝕤𝕦𝕣𝕖, 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕊𝕜𝕚𝕝𝕝 𝕘𝕣𝕒𝕟𝕥𝕤 𝕘𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕥 𝕖𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕟𝕔𝕖 𝕥𝕠 𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕡𝕝𝕖𝕤 𝕥𝕙𝕣𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕒𝕔𝕥 𝕠𝕗 𝕝𝕠𝕧𝕖-𝕞𝕒𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘. 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕞𝕠𝕣𝕖 𝕚𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟𝕤, 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕘𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕖𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕟𝕔𝕖—

Okay, that was quite enough. Zane didn't blush easily. But just flipping through the pages, he saw a lot of illustrations. He couldn't help but think of Reina. It got him all flustered.

He pocketed the thing, still red-faced. ...Just for safekeeping, of course.

He scooped up everything in the Vault and kept on going—but he soon found that was pretty much it for this fork. He'd hit a dead end.

Well. Time to backtrack. He guessed Vanessa had chosen the right way after all. She'd threatened to beat him up if he went that way. But he thought about it.

Why did she have dibs on the dungeon boss anyway? She just walked around like she owned the place. And she'd been nothing but rude to him, which didn't bother him particularly much, but it didn't endear her to him either.

He couldn't really find a good reason to listen to her.

Well. Too bad. He was going the other way too.

***

About an hour later…

She found it!

Yes!

There it was—a frozen arch looming before her. And beyond… a chamber with a huge red dot in it.

She'd found the Boss, and that foolish oaf was probably still bumbling around in the cold. She couldn't wait to clear it. Then rub it in his stupid face.

She stepped up to the arch.

𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘!

𝕐𝕠𝕦 𝕒𝕣𝕖 𝕒𝕓𝕠𝕦𝕥 𝕥𝕠 𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕝𝕒𝕚𝕣 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝔽𝕚𝕟𝕒𝕝 𝔹𝕠𝕤𝕤. 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝔽𝕚𝕟𝕒𝕝 𝔹𝕠𝕤𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝕒 ℂ-ℙ𝕝𝕦𝕤-𝕣𝕒𝕟𝕜𝕖𝕕 𝔻𝕦𝕟𝕘𝕖𝕠𝕟 𝕚𝕤 𝕖𝕢𝕦𝕚𝕧𝕒𝕝𝕖𝕟𝕥 𝕥𝕠 𝕒 𝔹𝕠𝕤𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝕒 𝔹-𝕣𝕒𝕟𝕜𝕖𝕕 𝔻𝕦𝕟𝕘𝕖𝕠𝕟.

She paused. For just a moment. Then she remembered him 'saving' her like she was some hapless damsel, and flushed with the humiliation of it. For the hundredth time that day.

Screw this—she'd fought B-ranked bosses before, hadn't she?

She was Vanessa Volkova! She didn't need any help. If anything, that Boss was in trouble!

She marched straight in, head held high.