For the noblemen of the continent, dungeon conquest skill is a matter of pride.
Who conquered more dungeons? Who cleared the most challenging dungeons? Who obtained the most remarkable items from these dungeons?
Originally, it started as a noble’s duty, but this competition soon evolved into a way for nobles to showcase their greatness. However, there was one fundamental issue with this rivalry.
It was rare for the dungeons they conquered to be the same.
While dungeons across the continent shared some common features, their details often varied. This made it hard to settle any argument over who had achieved more.
“I conquered a wider dungeon.” “The monsters in mine were more dangerous.” “Mine had more levels.” “The boss was ridiculous.”
These endless debates often resulted in the person with higher status claiming victory.
Powerful nobles would feel a lingering suspicion that the other person had conceded to them out of obligation, while the lower-ranking nobles harbored bitterness over their unjust loss.
Then, one noble came up with an intriguing idea.
Why not create artificial dungeons for fair competition?
Thus, the system for artificial dungeons still used today was developed, and nobles took turns creating dungeons, showcasing their superiority by conquering each other's creations.
This form of competition has evolved over the years, with the latest trend among dungeon-obsessed nobles being the Dungeon Studies Journal.
This journal, published by scholars of Dungeon Studies, featured a selection of dungeons worth attempting each week. The quality of these dungeons was so high that nobles stopped taking turns creating them and instead focused on clearing the dungeons featured in the journal, boasting of their achievements afterward.
As a result, when noblemen gathered, the question of whether one had cleared that week’s dungeon inevitably came up.
Anyone who frequently met other nobles had to clear the journal’s dungeon every week.
“Hmm.”
Even the first prince of the Soladine Kingdom, René Soladine, clutched a copy of the Dungeon Studies Journal for this very reason.
René had established impressive records in countless artificial dungeons, not to mention his successful track record in real battles. However, his position required him to do more than simply prove his skills.
As the kingdom’s first prince and a strong contender for the throne, René constantly faced scrutiny, so he needed to clear the journal’s dungeon each week to show he was improving.
However, René didn’t particularly enjoy these journal dungeons.
No matter how much effort went into them, dungeons created by people inevitably shared some similarities.
Wouldn’t anyone tire of clearing dozens or even hundreds of dungeons that all seemed alike?
“Interesting.”
But today was different.
As René examined this week’s dungeon in the journal, his eyes gleamed with genuine interest.
The dungeon’s gimmicks were cleverly crafted.
One wrong move, and the challenger would be caught in their own trap.
But was it just sadistic?
Not at all. The dungeon designer was incredibly considerate.
If you looked around instead of fixating on what was in front of you, you’d find countless hints.
A dungeon that welcomed those who deciphered its tricks but punished those who rushed forward blindly.
It’s been a while since I’ve encountered a dungeon I truly liked.
If dungeons like this were published in the journal every time, René would open each issue with an eager heart.
After clearing the dungeon, René checked the designer’s name.
If this person created another dungeon, he wanted to be sure to tackle it as well.
“...Lucy Allen?”
Surprised by the name he found, René’s eyes widened slightly before he let out a short laugh.
“Well, it’s not surprising that she’d create something like this.”
Thinking back on her antics during the recent Partran festival, it made sense.
To pull off such crazy moves during a dungeon conquest would require an extensive understanding of dungeons. It wasn’t strange at all that she had crafted such a fascinating dungeon.
Nodding to himself, René flipped to the solution section at the back.
He was curious to see how someone as eccentric as Lucy Allen would explain this dungeon.
Surprisingly, the solution in the journal was perfectly normal.
There’s no way that cheeky person would write something this ordinary.
Ah, I see. The Soul Academy must have reviewed and edited it.
Makes sense. The academy’s graduate students must’ve had a rough time.
And...
Hmm.
According to the last line, if he visited before Soul Academy’s term-end, he’d be able to challenge the dungeon himself.
René pondered this as he sipped his tea.
He had a reasonable excuse.
With Arthur and Cecil enrolled at the academy, he could justify checking in on Soul Academy, the kingdom’s representative institution.
And perhaps, in passing, he could meet with that Lucy Allen.
“René, what are you up to?”
A woman’s voice from behind prompted René to stand immediately.
“Your Majesty.”
The first queen of the Soladine Kingdom and the real power in the royal palace, as the king was currently ill.
She was René Soladine’s mother.
Kavati Soladine chuckled as she watched her son’s stiffly formal greeting.
“René, I’ve told you before—there’s no need to be so formal when no one’s watching.”
“No, Your Majesty. This is how I feel most comfortable.”
“Fine. Very well, sit down.”
“Thank you for your kindness.”
“You were reading the Dungeon Studies Journal. Was this week’s dungeon any good?”
“Yes. It’s the best one I’ve seen this year.”
“Oh, my! If you say so, I’m curious to see it myself.”
Taking the journal from René, Kavati’s eyes lit up with a crescent smile as she examined the dungeon details.
Even as the first queen, it would take her time to figure out that dungeon, so René decided to make tea while she was occupied.
When she finally spoke again, the aroma of tea filled the room.
“René.”
“Yes, Your Majesty?”
“When is the Soul Academy’s term-end party?”
Why is she asking that?
René was puzzled but answered promptly.
“December 1st.”
“That’s soon. I’ll have to keep busy until then.”
“...Are you planning to attend?”
“Yes. Even though we’re not related by blood, Cecil and Arthur are still my sons.”
I should see what kind of lives they’re leading, shouldn’t I?
She smiled warmly, but René didn’t believe her one bit.
The first queen he knew was not the type to show such affection.
“Well, I’ll be on my way. Make sure to clear your schedule for that day, René.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
After Kavati left, René sat alone, staring at his now-cold tea, and let out a sigh.
“I refuse, Lucy Allen.”
Arthur looked at me, barely concealing his contempt.
“It’s not a minor difference, but a crushing defeat I suffered. How would others view me if I represented the first years?”
“Well...”
“Why? You’re already widely known as the ‘Pitiful Prince.’ Will being looked down on a bit more really matter?”
“...Do you honestly not understand, or are you just asking? Tsk. You’re really insufferable. I can’t believe I’m starting to sympathize with that rascal, Jackal.”
His mocking tone almost made me want to snap back, but I bit my lip, remembering that I was asking for a favor.
“Think about it, Lucy Allen. I was born with many rumors shadowing me. Imagine how people would gossip if I accepted such humiliation.”
Well... When he puts it like that, I’m at a loss for words.
“Even if I ignore the rumors, I still have my pride. Do you know how painful it is to receive pity from the victor?”
Arthur’s argument about why he declined the speech at the entrance ceremony was unassailable.
It was so reasonable that anything I said would just sound like an excuse.
Ugh.
I should’ve intentionally missed a few questions on the finals.
Could’ve lowered my score a bit!
Why did I forget about this event?
Is Joy’s airheadedness contagious?! Have I become an airheaded Mesugaki?!
As I wallowed in my own stupidity, Arthur propped his chin on his hand and spoke.
“Why are you so reluctant to give the speech? Looking down on others is your specialty.”
“...”
“Just speak like you did in the Dungeon Studies test demonstration. What’s the issue? Your reputation can’t get any worse, anyway.”
Listening to him dryly list these facts, my patience finally ran out, and I stood up.
“Huh? What... What’s this about, Lucy Allen?”
“Follow me, Pitiful Prince. Let me show you what your sharp tongue can bring upon you.”
“What are you saying—no, never mind. I apologize. I was being insensitive. Now, please, put away that mace—gah!”
Even after being turned down by Arthur, I didn’t give up.
“No way! I want to see Lady Allen on stage wearing the outfit I picked for her!”
“...I’m sorry. I just can’t bring myself to stand on stage in place of other noblemen.”
“Uh... um, I’m sorry! Please, forgive me!”
But all my attempts only led to refusals in the end.
They were all too overwhelmed by the idea of standing on stage over Arthur or Joy.
Argh!
If Jackal were here, I could just force him into it!
Why does he have to re-enroll as a first-year next year?!
<Give it up, girl. If there’s no solution, why waste your time?>
“But...!”
<Instead, why don’t you focus on delivering the best speech possible? I’ll help you with it, so let’s think it through.>
“...Alright.”
Realizing there was no escape, I began planning with Grandpa to get through the speech as smoothly as possible.
But this really felt impossible.
Even if I said something, it’d get mistranslated by my Mesugaki Skill, turning into something completely different.
I was even half-tempted to just wing it and run away afterward.
“You know, I have an idea.”
While I was wracking my brain, Lovesick Fox spoke up.
“What is it?”
“What?”
Updat𝓮d fr𝙤m ƒгeeweɓn૦vel.com.
“Wear a bunny girl costume with accessories and stun everyone to the point where they can’t hear what you’re saying!”
Watching the lovesick fox drool made it clear how pathetic he was.
You just want to see me dressed as a bunny girl, don’t you?
Ugh. It was foolish of me to expect any decent ideas from this pervert.
None of my friends are as hopeless as the lovesick fox or perverted apostle, so...
Actually...
This could work, couldn’t it?
At least enough to keep people entranced until I finished and left the stage.
Realizing the potential, I turned swiftly toward the lovesick fox.
“...Uh? What’s with that look?”
Before he could escape, I grabbed him around the waist and pulled him close.
“Eek?! W-Wait. Why are you suddenly—eh?!”
Lovesick Fox!
You’re actually useful sometimes!
This must be the wisdom of the forest’s guardian!
Alright! Time to test this idea on my friends!