The Villainess Is An SS+ Rank Adventurer

Much could be said about the fae. And while none of it was the least bit positive, the strength of their nosiness couldn’t be denied. 

To brazenly skip into my kingdom was one thing, but to do so in the heart of the Ivywood was quite another. As the oldest and proudest forest in my kingdom, the Ivywood boasted more than ancient oaks, dipping ferns and poisonous honeysuckle berries which I was ignoring Coppelia happily collecting. 

Foul things lurked within the shadows. 

Monsters with as many eyes as claws. Nightmares blacker than the corners they inhabited. Commoners lost on the way from the nearest bar.  

And also witches.

Which was why–

“[Spring Breeze]!”

Poomph.

I watched as the most dangerous of them all flew into the orange horizon, off to terrorise the discarded apple cores and watermelon rinds of a different part of the world.

A common fruit slime.

“Oooh~ not bad!” Coppelia went to her tip-toes, hands to her brows. “The distance is … the sunset!”

I smiled in satisfaction.

Beneath the warm hue of a fading evening, the sound of Wirtzhaven’s gulls had been replaced with the song of robins as they serenaded the end of the day … and also our arrival through a fae portal.

Because as important as punting practice was, there was only one reason why we’d be in the depths of the Ivywood. 

That was to ensure that once I returned home, the sound of a woman cackling in the distance wouldn’t distract the servants from the much closer and far more beautiful laughter coming from their princess.

Even so … that should hardly take away from my latest record!

“Ohohoho!” I raised a hand to my lips, not at all bothering to hide my smile. “Why, this must be what Clarise experiences when she’s close to preventing whatever she’s making from exploding! Soon, the Mark IV Prototype [Spring Breeze] will be ready for field testing!”

Coppelia broke into light applause.

“Uwah~ that’s great! … Except I don’t think a field is appropriate for testing. You should use something more varied. Like a human village.”

“Please, Coppelia. That’s a terrible idea. Caterpillars are unlikely to inhabit villages. They’re nothing but mud with few things green enough to nibble on.”

“I feel like you should use more than caterpillars too. And probably also fruit slimes.” 

“Well, I certainly agree with that. But while etiquette demands that monsters be queueing up to offer themselves, it seems they’re tardy. An unacceptable state of affairs. My monsters are slacking in their duties.”

“You know, I can’t actually tell if that’s an actual duty or just a princess expectation.”

“There are no such things as princess expectations. Just lawful obligations written clearly in my mind.” 

Coppelia giggled.

I hardly saw why. Just because nobody else could see the ink didn’t mean the words didn’t apply. 

“The Ivywood is the finest of our forests,” I continued with a nod. “But such grandeur doesn’t come freely. It’s maintained by the funds of those seeking ever greater thrills. Although we passed through the narrowest neck on the way to Trierport from Aquina, the heart of the forest stretches far to the north. Here is where the darkness dwells. And that means it’s a popular tourism destination for the bored 2nd sons of nobility.”

“Wow! I didn't know you guys commercialised darkness. I thought that’s something only we did in Ouzelia.”

“Then it’s something you likely do better. The process isn’t streamlined here. For one thing, the nobility rarely actually realise they’re offering a donation. It’s just a natural result of them fleeing from the first thing which slightly hisses at them.”

“You see, monsters are friends! … Speaking of which, what kind do you have here? They must be good if you’re making money off them.”

“Indeed, they’re quite horrific. Creatures the likes of which your nightmares have never conjured, engulfed in a shroud of blood so thick it casts its own shadow.” 

“I bet that’s just what it says on the pamphlets. You need to be more specific.”

I thought for a moment.

“Well, I’m … I’m not actually too sure? … But rest assured, once they arrive to help me refine the Mark IV Prototype [Spring Breeze], you’ll doubtless see them chasing the backs of shrieking sons while the maidens they brought to impress roundly tut. Just make certain you pluck any pouches of coin you see stuck between their teeth.”

Copelia hummed at my sensible request.

Then, she looked around herself like an owl searching for dinner.

“I only see fruit slimes. And also a racoon.”

“A dire premonition, then. When one rodent appears, the others will soon gather.”

“Sure, but the tiny mice I’m pretending not to see don’t have enough teeth.” Coppelia feigned a gasp. “... Ah, could it be that this forest is actually sort of nice and pleasant? I bet if I walked into any forest in Granholtz, I’d already have a cockatrice and a basilisk fighting over who gets to be punched by me.”

I was appalled. At every word. 

But most of all at the insinuation the Grand Duchess possessed a single thing better than my kingdom which wasn’t cobwebs.

“Coppelia! Even in jest, that is unacceptable! … Why, the monsters here are far more exotic and dangerous than what Granholtz has! Indeed, unlike basilisks and cockatrices you intend to brawl with, ours come only when the light has fallen. When they do, you need only imagine the worst. Something wreathed in so much darkness that it repulses light. A creature without mercy or compassion, whose every step echoes with disdain for all the living.” 

Coppelia paused, halfway towards reaching out for a poisoned … thing.

She blinked at me instead.

“Huh, you’re right. I can sort of imagine it just sort of strolling about.”

I smiled and nodded.

As my personal handmaiden, even her quips came as official statements. It was important she knew to take due care with her words. 

Besides, if the Ivywood’s litany of bloodsoaked monsters were mysteriously absent, then it was only due to the witches and whatever their cauldrons boiled which managed to scare them away.

Plus also the most alarming thing present.

A wooden sign.

WITCHLY VILLAGE

Home of the Hexenkreis Clan

Please keep our home tidy.

Coppelia and I came to a stop.

Having walked far more than a fae blessed with wings suggested would be needed, the forest had now opened up to a modest clearing. The oak trees dispersed to allow a meadow where the wildflowers could compete without being smothered by the gnarled roots which constantly sought to claim my ankles. 

However, while a wooden sign was always the omen towards a sigh, it wasn’t the strangest thing here. 

That would be the door just a few paces behind it.

A door … but not one attached to any wall.

It was simply standing on its own.

Unvarnished and unremarkable. A door which could lead to anything as long as it was a shed that no princess had a right to enter. Yet unlike every other door, it was seemingly held in place by an invisible hand. Or perhaps a barrier invisible to the eyes. 

Coppelia turned to me with a bright smile.

“You know what, I think the fae missed something.”

I nodded.

Indeed … she’d missed the most obvious attempt at a trap. 

A door quite literally in the middle of nowhere was many things. But subtle was none of them. 

“5.5/10,” I declared after a moment’s thought. “A shameless gambit. But the originality I acknowledge. The sheer audaciousness to correctly assume that even the most cautious would approach just to examine the mysterious standing door is to be admired.” 

Coppelia nodded at once.

“10/10!”

“C-Coppelia?!” I was aghast. “We do not give perfect scores! Ever!”

“But it’s amazing!”

“Amazing is irrelevant! To offer an impeccable grade is to ensure whoever thought to place this door here never works a day again! After all, there can be nothing but disappointment from now on!” 

It was no use.

She was already preparing to kick down the door, despite the fact it should rightfully be falling over to the strength of my grief.

However, while doing away with this obstacle without any witnesses to bribe was preferable to whatever explosion would occur were it to open normally, I still gestured for her to stop. At least for now.

To my puzzlement, a hint of recognition came to me as I stared at the door. 

Almost all of it from the dull glint of a brass plaque. 

I knew what the words etched upon it were even before I tip-toed closer.

The Royal Entrance.

My mouth widened in shock.

It … It was here!

“Ohohohohoho!” I turned to Coppelia with a smile even brighter than her own. “My, what do we have here? … It appears we’ve found an acquaintance!”  

Indeed, there could be no mistake!

The woodwork without any embellishment, so plain that a farmer was clearly missing a barn door! 

Here was something last seen serving as a hidden entrance into an elven ruin. A rectangular test which only permitted those of royal lineage to pass. A door possessed by a demon matriarch, her sultry smile only visible as black ants dancing upon a muddy brown canvas. 

“Huh, I wasn’t expecting to see her again,” said Coppelia, still stretching her leg … presumably for the next door. “I figured she’d either have been banished back to lava land or released to cause a bunch of fun once her door was crushed by a falling wyvern.”

I nodded.

“Then it appears she’s changed employers.”

Indeed, just as the wooden sign suggested, this was clearly where a magical barrier was currently obscuring the village.

How she ended up here was an utter mystery. But I expected few answers.

And that was fine.

After all, I already knew the one that mattered.

“... Very well, then!” I clapped my hands in delight. “Come, Coppelia! It’s time you open this door for me again. Or perhaps we should allow the demon matriarch stuck inside to offer another riddle first?”

The door made no response.

Unlike previously, the unpolished façade didn’t light up with a drawing of a suspicious smile.

Creaaaaaaak.

Instead … it simply opened on its own.

The hinges groaned as the door swung outwards, dispensing with any need for either a riddle or the assistance of a handmaiden.

Yet far from rejoicing at this act of consideration, I could only stay perfectly still. 

Because rather than allowing me to peer through a doorway into a world of witches, what I saw instead was a slender figure stepping forth to personally welcome me. 

A lady whose lips were shaped into a mature smile. 

They were as scarlet as her dress. A thing which sucked in the sunlight, wreathing her in an impressive glow. A side parting revealed much of her leg, down to the shoes as formal as the masquerade mask around her eyes and the elegant bun of her raven dark hair. 

Her comeliness was obvious even with the mask. Enough to distract from the curled horns of an ewe, if not quite the eyes which smouldered with a sinister meaning.

“Here is your riddle,” said the demon matriarch, still with that same alluring voice, now no longer in door form. “... Who is a princess who has made a terrible decision in attempting to enter the highly suspicious door?”

I blinked.

And then I looked up in thought.

“My dear, that was a rhetorical–”

“Wait, I’m thinking.”