The Villainess Is An SS+ Rank Adventurer
Chapter 407: Waking Dream

“–this for a while now. Are you sure she’s well?”

“Mmh~! This happens all the time.”

“All the time?”

“Yup! There’s even a process afterwards. I poke her cheeks to make sure she’s alive. I figure if she isn’t, her vengeful spirit would complain.” 

“Miss, I’m a barkeeper, but nothing I hear from the tales of my customers comes close to the thought of being dragged away by the fae.”

“Oh, that bit’s just an every now and again thing. I’m talking about the way all life suddenly expires from her eyes. It’s something that happens whenever she tries the tasty brown sludge you humans eat. I call this Emergency Coma Mode. There are 5 levels of shutdown. The brown sludge is a level 5. This is only a level 3.”  

“That … doesn’t sound particularly healthy.”

“Ahaha~ what are you saying? Just look at these cheeks! They’re so soft and pudgy! Do these look like the cheeks of someone suffering because they always enter spontaneous self-induced unconsciousness?”

“... By the looks of it? Yes. They seem to be losing colour.”

“Oh, you’re right! It looks like all the life is draining from her.”

“Wait here. I’ll call for a sister.”

“Great idea! Ask them to bring consecrated silver and holy artifacts! We might need them.”

Hmm.

What an unusual quandary.

On one hand, to be offered a tribute of silver and artifacts simply for blinking was only appropriate … yet on the other, my finely tuned princess senses were telling me that Coppelia was on the cusp of a needless misunderstanding.

After all, there was nothing the Holy Church possessed which could ward away my vengeful spirit. 

That assumed I’d be doing anything other than eternally lounging in my bed.

My eyes opened to the sight of my loyal handmaiden’s smile. And also her poking my cheeks. 

I poked her cheeks back.

“Mmh~ I think she’s alive!” said the graduate of the Coppelia School of Physicians, excitedly turning with a puff of her cheeks. “... But you can still call the sister! If they see this frown, they’ll definitely throw a freebie at us!” 

“Please don’t call a sister,” I replied, ensuring my frown was already in place. “... At least not if they’re going to throw anything below a minimum value. I refuse to accept anything that’s not curated.”

Coppelia giggled.

With her smile proclaiming me healthy, she hopped away to allow confusion to assail me. 

And also the salt air.

Curiously, where I now stood was different to where I last was. Or at least where I was before I was illegally kidnapped to the Summer Court.

As far as I could recall, I was standing amidst a ruined herb garden while an entire town clamoured to take me away to somewhere nicer.

To my surprise, they’d just about succeeded.

The sight of Wirtzhaven’s docks spread out before me. 

Trading cogs, fishermen’s boats and ferry barges all threatened to bump against each other as the nightly currents pushed them against their mooring. Even when furled, the sails shook in the breeze, their bright colours inviting any strolling merchants to look upon them.

Beyond them, the waves glistened beneath the moonlight, twinkling occasionally as they reflected a starry horizon and a lighthouse towering nearby. 

A calming scene … except for the commotion. 

The gulls may be asleep, but the sailors were not. 

The endless bars overlooking the docks were alight with life, debauchery and the whiff of alcohol mixing with the salt air. A concoction worse than anything an alchemist could conjure.

“Uuggghhh …”

Indeed, it was so bad that the nearest one could only groan.

Stirring uncomfortably against a wooden bench, she was being attended to by her mother, who was now diligently making up for lost time.

“Heheheh … still ticklish here, I see. There’s no escape from me~”

I nodded in approval.

Whatever Coppelia could do with her pokes, it was clear that a mother uninhibited by thoughts of restraint could do worse. I noted the exact weak spot at the dip of Marinara’s waist, then stretched as I took in the refreshing air of my kingdom. The refreshing, salty, briny, fishy air.

“Ahem.”

A barkeeper’s cough soon asked for my attention.

Unlike the rest of his family, he was standing to the side as though ready to be called to arms.

He was as I remembered him. Tall without needing to stand straight. Approachable even without a smiling expression. Aged despite the youth of his eyes. And youthful despite the age of his regrets.

Although he had the beginnings of an unkempt beard, his appearance wasn’t necessarily sloppy. He had the stature as my knights. Even through storm, mud and escaping the pitchforks of angry fathers, they still maintained an air of pride.

This man was the same.

Thus, I offered a polite smile. 

My opinion of him hadn’t changed. As the man who had helpfully given me directions, a small loan and Apple for my initial departure, he was still a prospective member of my retinue.

“Sir Barkeeper,” I said, nodding as I delved into my bottomless pouch. “Please give me a moment.”

The man blinked at me.

He waited as I reached past the collection of souvenirs I’d legally obtained from the Fae Realm, then retrieved a handful of crowns. I duly held them out and waited.

“... What’s this?” asked the barkeeper blankly.

“Reimbursement.”

“Reimbursement?” 

“Indeed, I did promise that I’d return what was owed once the royal treasury was in a more burgeoning state. I’m pleased to say this is now the case. Or it should be–otherwise I’m going to petition for taxes to rise to 200%. I’m certainly not leaving my bedroom again.”

The barkeeper continued staring.

Only after a long pause did he give the world’s smallest nod of understanding.

“Oh. Right. You took my earnings.”

“Your day’s earnings. There’s a difference. If I took everything, it’d look terrible. People would think I requisitioned everything I wanted without a moment’s thought.”

“That wasn’t actually my day’s earnings. It was several–”

“R-Regardless!” I said as I discreetly added several coins to my palm. “I intend to keep my promises! … To repay what is owed is the least of expectations! It matters not if I’m a princess expertly incognito!”

The man briefly closed his eyes.

Understandable. To be given repayment including interest was a very rare thing. But I didn’t do anything half-heartedly. Including open bribery.

After a moment, the barkeeper accepted. The coins tinkled into his palm, then into a pouch by his side, helped by Coppelia who was already peeking inside it.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. 

“Apologies for all the informality. I doubt I offered the right greetings earlier, either. The matter of my daughter being on fire was a large distraction.”

“Please. You do her work too little credit. Her being on fire is the smallest distraction she’s ever done.”

The barkeeper gave a chuckle.

It was hoarse and unnatural, as though this was the first time he’d displayed any mirth in weeks or months. I could practically see the dust shaking away from his cracking voice. 

Even so, the tenseness of his shoulders soon returned.

Questions formed upon his lips. 

He looked at Marina. He looked at his wife. He looked at the copper ring disgracing my finger. He looked at the stars hanging overhead, the clouds silhouetting against the night, and also the stumbling drunkards who were somehow just avoiding falling off the docks.

A hundred questions deserving of a thousand answers.

But in the end, he could only ask one.

“So, how was your … adventure into the Fae Realm?”

“It wasn’t an adventure. It was a kidnapping.”

“I see. And how was your kidnapping, then?”

I offered an innocent smile.

“Productive.”

The barkeeper nodded.

For a moment, he seemed like he was considering asking for details.

He simply gave another cough instead.

I was impressed. Wisdom and helpfulness. This barkeeper was most promising.

“I’m glad to hear that,” he said diplomatically. “Truth be told, I feel a little out of my element. I’ve had the unusual privilege of landing my feet in the strangest of places. But to find myself here, in Wirtzhaven, with two I’d thought lost for different reasons is the strangest of all.”

A much more natural note of laughter tinkled in the air.

“This isn’t even in your top 5 strangest moments,” said the witch, looking up with a bright smile. “I’m going to have to fight to turn this into a regular bar time story. Otherwise, you’ll forget that any of this actually happened.” 

A sudden haggardness came over the barkeeper. Like a spell had been cast, any semblance of youth disappeared as the lines of his face aged several decades. 

The look of a man regretting all his life’s choices. 

I framed it in my mind. This is what marriage did.

“Forgetting is a luxury you now have,” I said, smiling as I placed my hand to my chest. “... So long as my contribution is remembered, of course. I’m delighted to say that I’ve fixed everything. Again.”

The contrasting masks of fatigue and merriment both fell away at once. 

“May I ask what you mean?” said the witch, her large eyes blinking.

“The flames of calamity will never again threaten the innocent orchards of this kingdom. The curse which festers in your clan’s bloodline has been sealed. The Summer Queen will personally oversee the matter.”

A moment of stunned silence met me.

“... Really?” asked the barkeeper in disbelief.  “You … You convinced the Summer Queen to do this? I … may I ask how … ?”

I raised a hand to my lips, barely covering my smile.

“Ohohoho … why, I simply offered her summer.”

“You offered summer to the Summer Queen?” 

“Indeed, I did. And I’m certain she’ll enjoy it, frills and all. With that said, there’s another cost involved. I’m told that any budding Witch of Calamity will have their magic curtailed. As a result, your daughter is unlikely to cast anything more than the occasional spark for the foreseeable future.”

The barkeeper and the witch looked at each other.

Silent words conveyed solely through their highly expressive features passed between them. 

Apprehension, scepticism, incredulity and doubt all blended together. 

But most of all–

Relief. 

“… Is that it?” asked the witch frankly.

“For Marinara? Yes. But not for those you represent. The witches are still in arrears. This was true previously, but even more so after summoning a child for entertainment who wasn’t even any good. Reparations are in order.”

I paused.

“She was also a devil. Which is bad.”

The witch nodded.

She gently prodded Marina into a stable position against the bench, rose to her feet, then clasped her hands together and bowed.

“I hold no formal position to apologise, but I shall do so nevertheless. On behalf of the Hexenkreis Clan, I offer my sincerest remorse for the harm that was caused … however, I also want you to know that although the Hexenkreis Clan are nuts, what we lack in common sense, we make up for in centuries of experience concerning how to not blow ourselves up. That includes summoning devils. Although I can’t say for certain, I think a celebration spell for summoning a dancing orchestra was commandeered. Please believe me when I say the hellish child wasn’t intended. I think.”

I could only stare.

Yes.

This was, indeed, the full extent of any explanation I could ever hope for regarding anything witches did.

“Well, intended or not, I’m still going to need compensation. You may begin with an enormous heap of crowns. How much does the witchly village have in its vault?”

The witch straightened her back and hummed.

“Zilch,” she said, after diligently counting the sum in her head. “We don’t have a vault. It’s quite a small village, after all.”

“I see … and so what do you have?”

“Very little, although I suppose our broomsticks are worth something.”

“Are they enchanted?”

“No, but they’re very good at sweeping.”

I briefly closed my eyes, sighing into my palms.

“You cannot possibly have no material wealth for me to extort.”

“There are few pockets of witches outside Ouzelia. Those remaining are small and only becoming smaller. The Hexenkreis Clan is no different. There are, I believe, only 37 witches who still permanently reside in the village–and they’re happy to make do with what they have. Those who wish for more leave to start normal lives and rarely return. I only did so because of an emergency.”

“Did you sense the intrusion by the humourless child?” 

“Oh no. It was because Auntie Cicille kicked the bucket. She was the clan elder.”

“... By any chance, was the celebration spell to conjure the dancing orchestra because of that?” 

“Yes.”

The witch before me beamed.

Frankly, I didn’t know why I asked.

“Understood,” I said with a nod. “In that case, alternative compensation will be arranged. Who is the leader of the witches now?” 

“Well, nobody is.” 

“Fine. You’re in charge.”

“I … I’m not quite sure that’s–” 

I leaned forward with my sweetest smile. 

“Oh,” said the witch after a pause. “I suppose I’m in charge now.” 

“Wonderful! In that case, please allow me to make a generous offer. All repayment for historical missed taxes, calamities and my time can be paid in lieu of crowns with loyal service … and it just so happens that I have employment available on an island where your skills can be put to excellent use.”

“An … island?”

“Yes. Soap Island. It’s a place of joy, splendour and very little that’s flammable. You may relocate the witchly village there and spill your cauldrons in peace–so long as it results in a magnificent botanical garden where only barren rocks currently exist. The most fragrant flowers can be used in the crafting of soap, while the most pungent can be used to ensure the soap miners are discouraged from napping. And if you do manage to set anything on fire, well, there’s an ocean to help put everything out again.”

I waited for the witch to ask me for a quill to sign with.

Instead, she simply broke into gentle laughter.

“An offer to relocate the witchly village? Onto an island of soap? … Something like that sounds just silly enough that most will agree. But I’m afraid it’s not for me. My only intention now is to make up for lost time with my family.”

“Well, Sir Barkeeper and Marinara are hardly excluded from this offer. Your daughter especially.”

The gentle laughter turned into a giggle. 

I hardly saw why. This was quite serious.

“Oh? Whatever do you mean?”

“She’s been quite troublesome,” I said kindly. “And while being cursed with the raging flames of calamity can excuse one or two cackling speeches, there’s only so much leniency I can offer. She’ll need to assist in the soap crafting efforts–at least until I’ve determined the Summer Queen has proven true.”

A sigh came from the barkeeper.

He at least knew of his daughter’s infamy. And also the need to see just how much her enjoyment for setting things alight was due to an ancient curse or just her natural personality.

Perhaps that’s why he looked like he was already considering what to pack for the journey.

“You know … I never figured a faraway island would sound quite as enticing as it does now,” he said with a tired voice.

I clapped my hands in delight.

Why, that was just the note of resignation I wanted! 

Soap Island was always open to entrepreneurs, after all! … Granted, a former pirate port hardly required another bar, but if I could guarantee at least one of them wasn’t utterly disreputable, then that was the smallest triumph I was willing to accept!

“Unngh … where … ?”

Stirred at last by talks of soap, our sleepy alchemist slowly opened her eyes.

Her vision clearly a haze, she made a bold attempt to sit up on the bench. She started leaning precariously to the side instead. 

Her mother was there to help prop her up.

She kneeled down slightly, holding Marina’s arm to keep her balanced.

“Sweetpea?” she said brightly. “... Ah, did we wake you up?”

Several hazy blinks answered her.

After a moment, Marina squinted at the gentle, smiling face before her.

And then–

She slowly poked her mother’s cheek.

“Oh … it wasn’t a dream.”

“It was a dream. But you’ve woken up now. And your father and I are here again. Would you like to spend lots of time together?”

Marina’s eyes took in the face of her father as he joined in, kneeling slightly just before her.

His usual stoic expression was no more. Now he wore a smile.

Marina gave a tiny nod. 

Then, she raised an arm against her eyes.

“Yes … I think I’d like that.”