Credits
Chapter 1: The Prince of Saillune
Originally published in the October
1989 issue of Monthly Dragon Magazine.
“Miss, might you be a sorceress by
any chance?”
In a small village, a handsome man
called out to me, just as I was ordering my second serving of the innkeeper’s
recommended set. This is the only inn in the village, by the way.
I looked at him and silently nodded.
While that might make me seem
mysterious, I wasn’t trying to impress him. I just had food in my mouth.
Couldn’t talk.
My outfit, a black cloak and robes, a
bandana, a necklace, a jeweled amulet gleaming at my chest, and a dagger at my
waist, could make me look like either a wandering entertainer or a weirdo. If I
weren’t a sorceress, that is.
The man’s lips curled into a broad
smile. Dressed like a priest, he looked young enough to still be called a young
man, though in a few years he’d no doubt become a handsome middle-aged man
instead.
“Thank goodness… I was right after
all. In a village this small, there’s no one else I could use as firepower…”
“Firepower?” I repeated after
swallowing my food, hoping he wouldn’t notice I was just parroting his words.
At least it didn’t seem like he was
hitting on me.
“If you’re willing, I’d like to ask
for your assistance in a certain matter.”
“Let’s hear it.” I tried to keep my
tone serious. I’d learned the hard way that responding in a more casual, girly
manner sometimes made people cancel their request on the spot.
Some folks just don’t like that for
some reason.
“Well, you see, at the table in the
back—”
“Hold that thought,” I interrupted,
raising a hand before calling out, “Ma’am! Another extra-large meal at the
table in the back, please!”
For some reason, the priestly man
stared at me with a blank expression.
“…So?” I prompted, keeping my voice
calm. For some reason, he kept staring.
At the table in question sat a burly
man in his forties, with a rugged build and a massive buster sword strapped to
his back. If he were a bit shorter, he could’ve passed for an oversized dwarf.
Either way, he had all the makings of a bandit leader.
Not exactly reassuring.
No matter how skilled I am with
magic, a beautiful girl like me shouldn’t have to be dealing with bandits in a
place like this…
“We’ve been looking for you,” the
priestly man said politely.
“Hmm,” the older man grunted,
nodding in a way that could barely qualify as a greeting.
How rude. He didn’t even bother
standing up in front of a lady. Yep, definitely a bandit.
I really shouldn’t be wasting my
time listening to these kinds of people.
“Please, have a seat,” the priestly
man gestured toward the chair across from the burly man.
I sat down, keeping my guard up.
Obviously.
“Before we begin, I’d like you to
introduce yourself,” the hairy man said, fixing me with an intense stare.
Not introducing himself first? Rude.
Suddenly, a short sword was placed
in front of me, not blade-first, but hilt-first. A familiar crest was carved
into it. It had a flashy, gaudy decoration.
Where have I seen this before…?
“That’s right!” The priestly man
puffed out his chest for some reason. “This man is none other than Prince
Philionel El Di Saillune, first heir to the throne of the Holy Kingdom of
Saillune!”
I slowly slid off my chair.
Somewhere in the process, my cloak got caught and ripped.
For a moment, my mind went
completely blank.
Ask anyone to describe what a prince
looks like, and nine out of ten would probably say, someone on a gallant white
horse. Many would describe him as noble, elegant, and, of course, handsome.
I’d say the same.
I heard that Prince Philionel of
Saillune is traveling incognito. Honestly, I imagined what it would be like to
meet him. He’d be captivated by my charm and magical prowess, we’d fall in love
at first sight, he’d propose on the spot, and I’d happily marry into an
absurdly wealthy family.
But one look at this guy, and my
grand plan fell apart. Completely.
And he’s most likely the real deal.
No one would be stupid enough to try
deceiving a sorceress by pretending to be royalty. Besides, impersonating a
member of the royal family is a grave crime, one punishable by death.
Yeah…
And anyway, as long as the king is
still on the throne, a prince is a prince regardless of his age. He could be
twenty. He could be forty. Doesn’t matter.
…Now that I think about it, I’ve
never heard how old the Prince of Saillune is.
Man…
“Are you all right, miss?”
“No. I am not.” I managed to climb
back onto the chair, glaring at the man who was looking at me with absolutely
no concern.
“I know it must have been a shock. I
am incognito, after all.”
That wasn’t the problem.
“Oh, and I’m the prince’s loyal
attendant, Priest Randy. If you wouldn’t mind, could you tell us your name as
well?”
“…Lina. Lina Inverse.”
As soon as I introduced myself—
“Oh!” The old man (I just can’t call
him a prince) and Randy both exclaimed in unison.
See, despite my youthful appearance,
I am pretty well-known.
“Then you must be the Lina Inverse,
the famous sorcerer!”
“Lina
Inverse… the Robbers’ Killer!”
I fell off my chair again. This
time, my cloak tore completely.
What did they just call me!?
“We’ve heard plenty of rumors about
you!”
“I heard you once wiped out an
entire bandit gang a thousand strong and took all their loot!”
LIES! SLANDER!
There were only dozens!
Look, Randy’s technically not wrong.
But know that I only target bandits. It’s not like I have the bad taste to go
around harming ordinary people.
…Most of the time.
Ahem.
And, well, like anybody else, I need
money to live. If you think I’m being unreasonable, why don’t you try living
near Saillune without a job? Go ahead, walk into a magic shop and try asking
for some Blaudia nuts without a single coin in your pocket. See what happens.
You’ll get laughed right out of the
store.
That reminds me, back in my
hometown, I once bought a bottle of Bammun’s Elixir for an obscene amount of
money, enough to hire an army or buy a small castle. Then, a stray cat my sister
was taking care of knocked it over and spilled the whole thing.
I was so mad I ended up wiping out
five nearby bandit gangs.
Ah, memories.
Anyway, that nickname is ridiculous!
“…Where exactly did you hear this
Robbers’ Killer nonsense?”
Randy looked puzzled. “I heard you
go around calling yourself that.”
“I HAVE NEVER CALLED MYSELF THAT!”
“You don’t like the name?” the old
man interrupted.
Of course I don’t!
“You may call me Phil. I’m in hiding
now, and Philionel is a bit of a mouthful.” He smiled broadly.
I’m glad he said that—at least I
won’t have to call him “prince.”
“Anyway, Randy… let’s talk money.”
“Of course.” The priest began
explaining the job.
It was nothing extraordinary.
A bunch of monsters had taken up
residence in a cave nearby, raiding fields, stealing livestock, and, most
importantly, swiping a gem needed by the village’s only magical doctor. A
tragedy, really. It nearly brought a tear to my eye.
When Phil heard about this on his
little secret trip, he was so indignant he shouted, “I can’t let my precious
subjects suffer like this!” and decided he had to do something about it.
“But having only Randy at my side
would be reckless. And this village is so small it doesn’t even have a
permanent guard. Recruiting volunteers would be difficult, so just when it
seemed all was lost… we found you.”
“Hold on. So you don’t intend to
fight?” I asked after they finished the explanation.
“Of course not,” Randy nodded.
Oh. I get it now.
I nearly forgot Phil is the heir to
the throne. (Not calling him “prince,” though.) But in that case, what’s with
the massive buster sword?
“I have the duty of carrying this
country’s future on my shoulders. I’d gladly take the lead in battle for my
subjects if necessary, but…” Phil hesitated.
At least he’s not completely
selfish. That’s rare for a noble.
“I may not look like it, but I’m a
pacifist…”
“No way!” I shouted at the top of my
lungs.
“…Anyway,” he continued, brushing
off my outburst, “I won’t just stand around and watch. I’ll accompany you all
the way. At the very least, we must retrieve the gem from the magical doctor.
Many people have fallen ill recently. And of course, since I’m the client, the
reward will be worth your time.”
Well, it wasn’t a bad idea, and it’s
not like I had anything better to do.
“Oh, so you’ll help us?” Overwhelmed
by Phil’s presence, the rather pale Randy let out a cry of joy. “Then let’s
prepare to leave immediately—”
“Hold on. Phil just said there are
sick people around. Randy, as a priest, don’t you know any spells that cure
illnesses?”
“Well, you see…” He awkwardly
scratched his cheek. “I may be a priest, but I only know a few basic spells
like Heal…”
“What about you, Phil?”
He looked puzzled. “Heal can’t cure
illnesses?”
I screamed internally. Is this guy
really the crown prince of Saillune, the city of white magic!?
Saillune is known for its high
concentration of white magic facilities. But I guess the rulers aren’t
necessarily experts in the field. Another misconception shattered.
Every living thing has an innate
ability to heal wounds. Healing spells temporarily boost that ability, making
wounds mend faster. But illnesses are different. They’re caused by tiny things
called “viruses” that enter the body. Using Heal on someone sick could end up
strengthening the virus instead, making things worse.
I learned this the hard way. When I
first started traveling, I’d just picked up Heal and was dying to try it. My
sister caught a mild summer cold, so I figured, why not?
Long story short, that harmless cold
turned into pneumonia.
And I got beaten pretty badly.
But no need to explain all that to
them. Prejudice or not, I don’t think they’d understand.
“That’s how it is,” I summarized.
“I see.” For some reason, Phil
looked convinced.
The cave wasn’t far from the
village, so we arrived in no time.
“Here it is,” said Randy, clad in
tattered robes.
“Scumbags,” muttered Phil, clad in
equally tattered leather armor.
As for why they were like that…
well.
On the way here, we passed by a big
waterfall. Since I hate being sticky with sweat, I threw a tantrum and insisted
on taking a bath. But I also hate cold water, so I heated it up with a
Fireball.
So far, so good.
Unfortunately, the explosion
startled my two companions, and they rushed over in a panic.
Embarrassed, I may have reflexively
hit them with another Fireball.
“A maiden’s shyness is cute,” I
tried explaining, but they wouldn’t agree.
It was such a minor incident, it
hardly even counted as one. And besides, I healed them! It’s fine!
Anyway, the three of us now stood at
the mouth of the cave, or rather, the ruins. From the outside, it looked like an
old tomb.
“Let’s go!”
“Yeah!” I shouted as we charged in.
Randy, the resident coward, just
nodded silently.
Tight space. Bad news.
That meant I wouldn’t be able to use
my best spells, Fireball, Mega Brand, or Dragon Slave, all of which are
wide-range, indiscriminate slaughter spells.
Don’t judge me, but I love those.
Now I had no choice but to stick to
smaller, pinpointed spells.
Taking the lead, I enchanted my
short sword with Light, turning it into a makeshift torch. The air was thick
with the smell of mold.
“I really don’t like this place!”
Phil complained. “It’s dark and damp! How could anyone choose to live here!?”
Shut up!
Since he was a full two heads taller
than me, having him yelling right behind me was extra annoying.
“Be quiet!” I snapped, stopping dead
in my tracks. Not because I was annoyed, okay, maybe a little, but because I saw
something move in the darkness ahead.
“There’s something over there!”
“Oh!” Phil sounded amused for some
reason.
The insignificant Randy at the back
didn’t even make a sound.
Chanting a quick spell, I threw a
ball of light to the ceiling. The cave walls lit up, revealing a dozen or so
orcs.
“Heh, how cute.” I stepped forward. “I
can take them out with a simple Flame Arrow. Leave it to me.”
Flame Arrow does exactly what it
sounds like. Once you get used to it, you can fire multiple arrows at once.
When I’m in top form, it’s more like a Flame Shower. And I’m not exaggerating.
Ten or twenty orcs? No problem.
“Wait!” Phil cut in. “I’ll persuade
them. No need for pointless killings!”
I nearly tripped over my own feet.
“Orcs! Listen carefully!” He stepped
forward, radiating confidence. “Our group is only here for the gem! That’s all
we need! If you return it peacefully, there won’t be any trouble! I’m a
pacifist, I won’t harm you! However! This violent sorceress behind me will not
stay silent if you refuse!”
Who’s the violent sorceress!?
The orcs, who obviously didn’t
understand a word, still shrank back, intimidated by Phil’s sheer presence.
I took another step forward.
They bolted.
“See that?” Phil grinned. “Even if
we don’t share a language, sincerity and honesty can resolve anything through
discussion! Amazing, right? That’s the power of pacifism!”
…Yeah, that wasn’t it.
Phil’s presence is just terrifying.
Of course, Phil’s persuasion tactics
didn’t work on the massive ogre we encountered later.
“Now it’s my turn!” I handed Phil my
short sword and began chanting. “Balus Rod!”
A twisting band of light shot from
my palm, its path shifting with the flick of my wrist.
“Call me Queen!” I shouted, making
some incomprehensible joke as I crushed the ogre in a single blow.
You may applaud.
“A troll this time?”
Trolls are a pain. Their wounds heal
almost instantly. Swords are useless.
“Dam Brass!”
But their heads don’t grow back.
“A minotaur?”
“Dig Volt!”
“A salamander over there!”
“Lybrim!”
“A vampi—!”
“Assher Dist!”
“…Things have gotten rather quiet,
haven’t they?” Phil said, sounding almost bored.
“Yeah,” I agreed, scanning our
surroundings.
No sign of the gem. Must be deeper
inside.
“Let’s keep going.”
We continued down a long, sloping
passage. By now, we had to be pretty far underground.
“Argh, this is so annoying!” I
groaned, shaking off thick spider webs and all these thin ropes?
Hold on. Ropes?
Ugh. A heavy thud echoed from far
behind us, followed by the unmistakable sound of something rolling.
Timidly, I turned around.
Yup. As expected.
A giant boulder was barreling toward
us. One of those classic dungeon traps, so old and overused that even folk
songs mention them.
But this was not the time for
trivia.
“Daaaaaaaaaah!” Phil and I sprinted
for our lives. But the downhill slope seemed endless, and the boulder was only
picking up speed.
This was bad.
“Can’t you do something with your
magic!?” Phil shouted.
I could, but blasting the boulder
with enough force to break it might bring the whole tunnel down with it.
Getting crushed by a rock was one thing, being buried alive was another.
“This is bad!” I was about to
say, until inspiration struck.
“Leave it to me!” I winked, barely
managing to cast while running.
I turned and fired off a spell.
Flare Lance! A stronger version of Flare Arrow, concentrated into a single
attack. At its peak, it can burn hot enough to melt iron.
…But instead of melting, the boulder
just turned into a flaming rolling boulder.
“You idiot!” Phil roared as the air
around us grew hotter. “’Leave it to me?’ You just made it worse!”
Little did he know, I was already
prepping my next move.
“Now to finish this!” I spun around
and fired again. “Icicle Lance!”
“YOU’RE NOT HELPING—!”
A loud crack interrupted him. The
boulder fractured, splintering into countless pieces before finally crumbling.
“And that’s that,” I said, grinning
triumphantly.
Phil, still catching his breath,
eyed the debris. “What… what did you do?”
“To put it simply? Thermal expansion
due to sudden temperature change.”
“…?”
His blank stare told me I had to
spell it out.
“—So basically, it’s like pouring
cold water into a hot clay pot. It shatters.”
“Ohhh, I see now!” Phil finally
understood.
…Wait.
Finally able to think clearly, I
looked around.
“Wait, where’s Randy?”
“Huh. Now that you mention it…”
Ah.
Well, judging by the lack of
screaming, he must’ve been flattened right away.
Rest in peace.
“…Oh well.” Phil shrugged. “I can
find my way home on my own.”
“Guess so,” I replied.
And with that, we pressed on toward
the climax.
In a hidden chamber deep within the
ruins, a lone figure stood waiting for us.
“I’ve been expecting you, Prince
Philionel.”
“Stop!” I yelled. “Don’t call this
guy Prince!”
I still hadn’t fully recovered from
that revelation. Seriously, calling this old man “Prince” hurt more than taking
a Fireball to the face.
“…Huh?” The cloaked figure faltered,
clearly thrown off. “Anyway, this is the end of your journey. Prepare yourself.”
Hah! The end? For the great Lina
Inverse?
“Damn you, why would you do this to
a kind, gentle soul like me?” Phil lamented.
Uh… who’s he talking about?
“Because I wanted to,” the man
declared, dramatically removing his cloak.
“Randy!?” Phil gasped. “Why!?”
Yup. It was Randy.
I crossed my arms, nodding sagely. “So
you were the mastermind all along.”
“S-Since when did you know!?” he
stammered.
Oh, I was totally bluffing. It never
even crossed my mind. I just wanted to say that.
“Anyway… As the third in line for
the throne, I’ve been always overlooked because of him!” Randy pointed at Phil,
voice trembling with resentment.
Wait, hold on—
“The third in line to the throne!?”
I turned to Phil, then back to Randy. They look nothing alike. “Seriously?”
Phil nodded.
Huh. So this was just a family feud?
“You don’t fit the image of the King
of Saillune!” Randy spat.
…I kind of agreed with him. But I
wasn’t convinced Randy would be much better.
“So that’s how it is…” Phil
muttered. “Six months ago, assassins started coming after me. I thought it was
strange, but… it must’ve been your doing…”
Wow. He really just put that
together now?
“It was worth staying close to you
and setting up this trap,” Randy sneered.
“So everything was—”
“That’s right! It was my plan all
along!”
“Let me guess,” I sighed. “You’re
planning to frame me, right? Kill Phil and make me the culprit?”
“You’re sharp.”
No, he’s just really dumb.
“And after you become king?” I
asked.
“…Uh.” Randy blinked. “…Haven’t
thought that far ahead.”
Yep. Total idiot.
Phil’s expression hardened. “I will
never forgive you!”
Randy spread his arms wide. “Prepare
yourself! Come forth, my Brass Demon, Garndir!”
A summoning circle flared to life
beneath him, its glow revealing the hulking silhouette of a Brass Demon.
“You’re pathetic,” I said.
“Shut up!” Randy snapped.
Brass Demons aren’t very well-known,
but they’re definitely stronger than Lesser Demons. Weak magic doesn’t work on
them.
As I considered my options, the brass
demon approached, grinning menacingly.
“I CAN’T TAKE IT ANYMORE!”
Phil’s roar shook the chamber. “You’ve
harmed so many innocents just to assassinate me! And you even resorted to
summoning this! No matter how much of a pacifist I am, THIS CANNOT BE FORGIVEN!
I MUST PUNISH YOU!”
“Hey, old man—” I started, but it
was too late.
“PACIFIST CLAAAAAAAAASH!”
Phil launched himself at the brass demon,
landing a full-force punch to its ribs. A sickening crack rang out.
Holy—!
The massive Brass Demon flew across
the room like a ragdoll, crashing straight into the wall, and taking Randy with
it.
I froze.
“BEHOLD THE POWER OF PEACE!”
My brain shut down.
This guy… is completely
unpredictable.
“I’m happy everything worked out.”
Back in town, Phil handed me a bag
of coins, more than what we originally agreed upon.
“I caused you a lot of trouble.”
He definitely did.
“I hope we meet again someday.”
I really hope not.
“Well then.”
Without another word, he turned and
left.
I stood there, still too stunned to
move.
That man is terrifying.
As I watched his retreating figure, one
thought lingered in my mind:
This country has a bleak future…
Contents
Chapter 1: The Prince of Saillune
Chapter 2: Revenge!
Chapter 3: The Robbers’ Killer
Chapter 4: Naga's Challenge
Chapter 5: Elsia's Castle
Chapter 6: Slayers Excellent — Villain Fight!
Afterword, Color ilustrations and Download Links
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