Chapter 9: Human Hypocrisy
[ Absorbing 1 human corpse. ]
[ Calculating amount of mana harvested... ]
[ The Dungeon Heart has absorbed 24 mana points. ]
"24 points? He really was a cut above the rest, that fallen knight."
Aria replied at once.
"A rank equivalent to B+, at most. He was still a small fish."
Not many people can afford to call a B+ rank a "small fish," Aria...
Not keen to get into that sort of discussion, Freya kept the thought to herself and turned instead to what still needed doing.
"Right. We’d do well to go set up the camp that’ll serve as cover for our dungeon, while the Mycofoxes find us a new vein." She paused. "By the way, don’t forget to warn me if your familiars spot any movement at the village."
"Actually, the two sisters were already heading this way before I came to see you. I didn’t think it worth having them followed."
Freya raised an eyebrow. So Naïa and her little sister were coming to them. Curious. What could they possibly want?
"Very well. But you never know. Someone could see through your illusion magic one day. Have anyone who sets foot in this forest followed, no exceptions."
"Yes, mistress."
And with that, they made their way toward the exit, leaving the dungeon in the care of the Mycofoxes.
While Aria raised the camp with bursts of magic, in her usual diligent manner, Freya had settled off to the side to catch her breath. Boredom set in fast, so she opened the chat, curious to see what was brewing there, and above all, whether her little gift had borne fruit.
[ Dungeon Lord Chat ]
[ SkyStrategist ]: Anyone been able to verify what Maid said? — +123
[ BlackFlame ]: after reshaping my dungeon all the way up to the surface, I caught a little monster, some kind of hen with green and blue feathers. Gave me mana. — +30... +128... +298
Reading BlackFlame’s message, an idea sprouted in Freya’s mind. She turned to Aria, still busy putting up the camp.
"Tell me, do you know of a monster resembling a hen with green and bluish feathers?"
"Of course. Those are Terachicka. Harmless-looking creatures, whose eggs are remarkably rich in protein." She paused. "That said, on full-moon nights, they transform into beasts nearly ten meters tall."
Aaaah... Good luck to you, dear BlackFlame.
"And would you know which region they come from?"
"Yes. From the Western continent, more precisely its southeastern part."
"And where exactly are we?"
"On the Southern continent, at its very southern tip."
So not exactly nearby. Still, she’d just placed another Dungeon Lord on the world map, from a single scrap of information. Aria was earning her SSS rank more and more, in Freya’s eyes.
She returned to the discussion, which had gone on without her.
[ LustDemonKing ]: Dude that’s insane! Thanks to Maid and you for showing us the way. — +92
[ FlowerGoddess ]: makes sense though. The dungeons we know often feed on the corpses of their invaders. — +210
[ BlackFlame ]: Except here it’s like the system’s flat-out pushing us to go out and invade the world to rack up as much mana as possible. — +129
Not wrong. Freya had had the same thought, once or twice.
[ SkyStrategist ]: The system, and whoever controls it, must have a purpose behind summoning us into this world. — +312
[ LucasBraveheart ]: Don’t forget to stay cautious, though. Getting spotted too early could be your death sentence. We don’t yet know the strength of these so-called heroes. — +297
Damn Lucas. Honestly, I can’t stand him anymore. Always has to open his mouth... tch.
[ FreakyBoy14 ]: You’re not just saying that to get a head start on us, are you? — +87
Freya burst out laughing, genuinely, at the sight of that insufferable FreakyBoy14’s message. Eighty-seven people had liked it. It was glorious.
Her plan to draw the Dungeon Lords out into the world’s light would likely have flopped without his precious little assists. And to drive the point home, Freya added a message of her own.
[ Maid ]: Our dear Lucas has a skill tied to time acceleration within his dungeon. He grows faster than any of us. Naturally, it suits him if no one finds another way to earn mana. — +1... +13... +125... +213
Freya could feel it: LucasBraveheart was, and would remain, a thorn in her side. So she’d tear down the trust the others placed in him, by any means necessary.
And besides, she had to admit it, she hated him. That way of being, naive and generous with the whole world, repulsed her to the core.
Her mother had been like that. The kind of person who reached out to everyone, who gave without ever expecting anything back, who didn’t know how to say no. She helped, again and again, without stopping, until the day she had nothing left to give at all. Until it ended up taking her.
Freya had grown up in the wake of that kindness. A childhood harsher than it should have been, picking up the pieces, paying the price for a gentleness others took advantage of without shame. She knew exactly where that sort of nature led. She’d seen it with her own eyes.
Ever since, she’d harbored a stubborn hatred for people like that. Those who gave themselves body and soul to the whole world thinking they were doing good, and reaped nothing but misery in return. Lucas was one of them, she’d have bet on it.
So she’d do everything to crush him. Because it was in her interest, yes. But above all because she wanted to.
She returned to the discussion.
[ ShoeSize? ]: Our beloved queen Maid, would you do us the honor of revealing your shoe size? — +12... +27... +63
Eeeeww... Why on earth does that get so many likes?!
But before she could puzzle any further over why the feet of the chat’s beloved queen fascinated so many, a snap of branches rang out, right near the camp.
Freya spun around, on her guard. But it was only two slight figures that emerged from between the trees, hesitant.
The two sisters.
Naïa held her little sister by the hand, and both froze at the sight of Freya, as if caught red-handed. The younger one half hid behind the elder.
"Sorry!" Naïa blurted, her voice rushed. "Sorry, we... we know we’re not allowed to come here. You told the chief. But I..."
She trailed off, searching for words, then, out of courage, she suddenly bent her knees and knelt right there on the earth, pulling her sister down with her.
"Please! Take us with you!" Her forehead nearly touched the ground. "We can work, we’ll do anything you want, cooking, cleaning, anything! We don’t want to stay at the village anymore. We can’t. Not after... not since Mama."
Her voice broke on the last word. Beside her, the little one kept her eyes lowered, her fingers clenched on her sister’s sleeve.
Ah. Freya considered them a moment in silence. So that’s what they wanted.
She understood, in a way. Staying in that village, among the charred houses and the exact spot where their mother had bled out, crossing paths each day with the faces that had watched it all without moving. It took a certain nerve, or a certain desperation, to come knocking at the door of the woman who commanded a monster.
"Get up, both of you," she said at last. "I don’t like being spoken to with foreheads in the dust."
They obeyed, trembling. Freya was already thinking. Two extra pairs of hands wouldn’t go amiss, and she could make them a credible cover for the camp, human staff for a "noble estate." The only question was whether—
"Are you working on that cave, my lady?"
Freya froze.
It was the little one who’d spoken, her finger outstretched. Pointed straight at the dungeon entrance. The very one an illusion spell was supposed to conceal entirely, to make indistinguishable from the surrounding rock and brush.
A silence.
It was Naïa who reacted first, sharply pulling her sister against her, her voice low and hurried.
"What are you talking about... There’s nothing over there. Just trees and rocks."
But the little one frowned, disoriented, and her finger didn’t budge an inch.
And there, Freya’s mind raced.
She sees through the illusion. She sees the entrance. This kid knows the exact location of my dungeon. Her blood ran cold. If she talks, even to a single person in the village, it’s all over. They’ll know where to strike, they’ll know something’s hidden here.
The options scrolled past, cold, mechanical, at a frightening speed.
I silence them. Here, now. It’s the safest option. But at once, the flaw. No. They told the whole village they were coming here. If they vanish, people will look for them, they’ll suspect something. Then I’d have to silence the entire village. Fifty people.
She weighed it. She truly weighed it, a heartbeat too long, and the very ease with which her brain lined up the corpses turned her stomach.
It was Aria who pulled her out of it.
The demon had followed the whole progression on her mistress’s face, that rare hesitation, that silent struggle. So she spoke, in a light, almost casual tone.
"A child so young, able to perceive through my magic, even faintly... that’s a rare thing, mistress." She let the sentence hang. "Such a gift could become a true asset, provided someone takes charge of training her. Starting now."
Freya lifted her eyes to her.
And she understood. It wasn’t a mere observation. Aria was offering her a way out. Keep them, take them under her wing, make the little one an asset rather than a threat to be eliminated. A door that didn’t lead through blood.
An enormous weight left her shoulders. A relief so sharp it surprised even her.
Because that was the truth she didn’t like to look in the face.
Yes, she despised people like Lucas. Like her mother. Those who gave themselves to the whole world until they lost themselves in it. But what she hated above all else wasn’t them.
It was herself.
Because for all that she wrapped herself in her cold rationality, calculating, cutting, filing human lives into columns of mana, she’d inherited something else, too. Her mother’s heart. That very weakness she spent her life denying.
And in that precise instant, despite herself, she no longer saw two strangers kneeling in the mud. She saw herself. Herself and her older sister, years earlier, two little girls who’d just lost their mother and no longer knew who to turn to.
She exhaled slowly.
"... What’s your name?" she asked the little one.
The girl blinked, surprised to be addressed.
"Laïa..."
Laïa. And the elder, Naïa. An inward sigh escaped her. Their parents didn’t exactly break a sweat on that one.
"Get up," Freya said. "You’ve got a new job."
Naïa lifted her head, incredulous, as if the words took a moment to reach her.
"You... you mean..." Her voice quavered. "You’re accepting? Really?"
"I just said so, didn’t I?"
Naïa’s face crumpled with relief, and the tears she’d been holding back from the start spilled over all at once. She hugged her little sister to her, a nervous laugh mixed with the sobs.
"Thank you... thank you, my lady, you won’t regret it, I promise! We’ll work hard, we’ll do whatever you ask, we—"
"But know this." Freya’s voice settled, calm, and her gaze turned graver. "As of this day, you are dead."
The two sisters flinched. Naïa’s smile froze, and she drew Laïa a little closer to her.
"P-pardon?" she breathed.
"Your life no longer belongs to you." Freya didn’t take her eyes off them. "From now on, it’s mine."
Naïa pressed her lips together, searching for meaning in those words. Beside her, Laïa had started trembling again, and the two of them stepped back, that terror from the night before resurfacing in their eyes. They were surely remembering what they’d seen, in that square, a few hours earlier.
"Because you see," Freya went on, unruffled, "I am neither a noble, nor someone good. Nor even human, truth be told."
With each word, the sisters’ faces crumpled a little further.
"I am a being come from another world. And I fully intend to conquer this one. At any price."
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