PT 2

"Sniff…Yes. I was in the back of a carriage, no idea where we were…when

suddenly a deafening roar came from outside. The carriage was attacked by

monsters…!"

Now she's got me on the edge of my seat.

"He ran away from the horde of ogres, abandoning me in my state of

panic…"

"…Eh?"

"…A band of marauders rescued me at the last moment. Once they

discovered my virginity, they decided to sell me, here, to Orario."

"—"

I'm stunned.

The full impact of what she says doesn't hit me at first, but no words will

form in my mouth.

She was sold…to Orario…?!

"What do you mean by 'sold to Orario'…?"

"In layman's terms…a homeless, friendless girl like me is brought to the

Pleasure Quarter to be sold as merchandise."

I watch her lips form those words in the moonlight, each of the dots

connecting in the way that I had been praying they wouldn't.

The marauders protected her from the monsters but then treated her like

everything else they stole from the carriage. She was still very young, so they

didn't touch her. But they knew that she, her unsoiled body, would be worth a lot

of money to the right people one day. And so they brought her to Orario.

"For a city with as many adventurers as Orario, locations such as the Pleasure

Quarter are irreplaceable necessities to keep the peace."

Apparently, strong adventurers have similarly strong urges…

Those venturing out with their lives always on the line deal with enormous

amounts of stress. Constantly spending time in the Dungeon, battling against

death itself takes its toll. The need to vent stress and frustration can take violent

forms, but it can also be relieved legally and peacefully in places like this.

That's why the Guild turns a blind eye to this place. Its existence reduces the

amount of bar fights and property damage caused by adventurers. The Pleasure

Quarter is a necessary evil.

Sure, her explanation makes sense. But the thought that the Guild is looking

away from the truth—that human beings are being bought and sold—is

absolutely horrible. I try to avoid making eye contact with Haruhime, but it's no

use.

My eyes follow her long golden locks to the gorgeous green orbs in the

center of her face.

Renarts are a special race within animal people because they are the only

ones who are natural-born magic users.

When it comes to magic, most people think of elves right away. However, a

renart's magic is a bit different. Each of their spells is quite unique. I've heard

that they're referred to as sorcerers in the Far East.

Therefore, her "saviors" saw her value—in terms of potential strength and

economic gain—when they brought her here to the center of the world, Orario,

and sold her into this business.

She would have been brought here ostensibly under the guise of wanting to

come on her own, but really she came through the gates as merchandise.

This is terrible…

Then she was sold off to the highest bidder. It just so happened that Lady

Ishtar was in the area and took notice. The goddess purchased Haruhime to make

her part of the familia…

Unable to follow her dreams, she experienced one tragedy after another.

She had no choice but to come to Orario. And now…?

I thought that all the working women here were like Aisha. But how many of

them have stories similar to Haruhime's?

It's the truth I wish I'd never known.

And I realize something at the same time.

I was completely clueless. But now, after listening to Haruhime, I can never

go back.

"Umm…I had always wanted to come to the continent, being from an island

nation. So my wish was fulfilled…from a certain point of view."

She must've seen the gears turning in my head and desperately tries to

console me.

But now all I see is pain in that beautiful smile. "It may not be the best of

circumstances, but my newfound sisters take very good care of me." Another

attempt to convince me she's okay.

My lips refuse to open. I can barely even look at her.

What the hell am I supposed to say? I'm an adventurer; I'm part of the reason

she's in this mess.

I want to say, "Let's run away together, right now," but I'm a fugitive deep

within Ishtar Familia's territory. The Amazons are still after me. I'm in no

position to help her.

But Haruhime's eyes haven't changed at all. Another awkward silence falls,

and this time she's the one to speak up.

"There's also the fact that…many stories of this city have reached the Far

East. Orario has always been appealing to me."

Her eyes soften. That must have triggered my voice to wake up, because it

bursts out of my mouth:

"Are you talking about Dungeon Oratoria?"

"The same!"

That's a collection of Dungeon stories I received from my grandfather when I

was a child. It was my bible growing up, Dungeon Oratoria.

It documents in great detail the journeys and deeds of many heroes in Orario.

I've heard there aren't many copies of the original book, but I guess the stories

have spread around the world.

Haruhime nods energetically in my direction.

"Dungeon Oratoria is fascinating…But the story I remember most was about

a group of valiant knights from different countries joining forces in search of the

Holy Grail."

"Isn't that 'The Adventures of Garland'? Where the queen was sick and only

water purified by the Grail could cure her?"

"You know of it? Then what about the story of a spirit trapped in a lamp and

the young mage—?"

"If I remember right…'The Wizard Aladdin'?"

"Yes!"

That's the first time she's sounded excited.

Her eyes sparkle every time I correctly guess the title of the story she

describes.

"Don't tell me—you like legends and fairy tales?"

"I absolutely adore them! They were the only way I could learn of the outside

world when I still lived in the manor…!"

A common interest. She's so happy she's found another person with this kind

of childish hobby that—FLICK! Haruhime's ears perk right up.

The stories come flowing out of her, and I'm right there, sharing ideas along

the way.

"Durandal the Lost." "Our Song of Enou." "The Legend of Saint

Giorgio."...More and more. She knows quite a few unusual stories. Wait a

second, I have no room to judge.

I doubt that any of the other prostitutes here know about any of these. This

might be the first time she's been able to talk about it in years.

Not to mention that most people "outgrow" fairy tales at a certain age.

I still don't know how to talk about the Pleasure Quarter with her. I'm so

lucky that Haruhime brought this up. Now we can both honestly smile and laugh

with each other.

Some part of me realizes I'm only hiding from the truth, but it's not every

day I can completely escape into a beautiful world with a companion like her.

"I truly admire the knight who sang of love to his queen, despite both of them

knowing their dreams could never come true!"

"I think that the jousting scenes from 'Sir Laslow' are much more

impressive…"

"Master Cranell, are you familiar with the story of Snow White?"

"I don't know much other than the heroes'stories…"

She leans closer to me and I readjust on my pillow.

I can hold my ground when it comes to heroic tales, but Haruhime knows so

much more than I do, it's almost intimidating.

For the first time in a while, she falls silent. Her thick tail is swishing back

and forth a bit slower now.

"So then, Haruhime, what's your favorite kind of story?"

"It's hard to choose…but the one that has left a lasting impression on me was

about a princess who was saved from a demon by a young, nameless warrior…It

is one of the oldest stories in the Far East."

That would mean that she likes stories where the hero saves a damsel in

distress…The moment where a strong hand reaches out to rescue a princess from

danger.

It could be because she's been cooped up in a box most of her life. Hang on,

my cheeks are blushing.

That look on her face, it's like she's just revealed the location of an

irreplaceable treasure…She closes her eyes.

"There was a time when I, too, wanted my own hero to take me somewhere

far away, just like in the pages of the book…"

I was about to say something, but the soft smile in her eyes makes me stop.

Was she talking about back in the Far East, where she never set foot outside

her family's manor?

Or sometime much more recent?

"…But that was the foolish dream of the girl lost in fairy tales. No hero

would ever come for someone as lowly as myself."

"Of—of course he would!"

Startled by the resignation in her voice, I rise to my knees and try to deny her

claim.

"No hero would leave behind someone like you! Don't give up hope!

"Some pitiful, naive guy like me might not be able to do anything

meaningful.

"But the heroes I look up to, the ones Gramps told me about, would never do

such a thing.

"If any one of those brave souls were here, he would rescue you from this

place on sight."

I deliver an impassioned speech. She just watches me with those beautiful

green eyes…and smiles.

"I am quite sure that the heroes you speak of had the same kindhearted soul

as you do, Master Cranell…However, I am neither a beautiful queen nor a fair

maiden in imminent danger."

She slowly blinks and says:

"I am a prostitute."

"!!"

My eyes fly open. Her words were soft and gentle, but they sliced through

my heart with the sting of a thousand knives.

"While still inexperienced, I have given my body to many men."

" "

That's when it hit me like a ton of bricks.

My brain had been purposely avoiding the word prostitute this entire time. It

felt like a slap in the face to hear it directly from Haruhime.

"It was not my destiny to wait as a pure flower for true love. In my story,

money took priority."

Pure flower…I've heard those words before, but now I know their true

meaning.

And now it's her job to provide customers with a night of their dreams,

locked in an embrace of physical passion.

Prostitutes are not pure flowers. Quite the opposite.

This beautiful girl, with such an untainted aura, has been with many men…

The truth I had been trying to escape overtakes me. I can feel its grip,

strangling my lungs from within.

Emotions, images, heat—a whirlwind rages in my head. I feel like I could

puke at any second. I grab my chest and support myself with my free arm,

struggling for breath.

"Why would heroes want to save…someone as soiled as myself?"

That innocent smile has never left her lips. It's haunting in the blue

moonlight.

It's the same one she wore when I first saw her in the lineup, stunning yet

distant.

Despite how close we're sitting right now, there is a great distance between

us.

"Prostitutes are the ruin of heroes. Surely you know this already." Those

words sting.

She starts summarizing, like the conclusion of a debate that she's already

won.

"I have had no right to indulge in the world of fairy tales and heroes since the

day I learned what had become of me. Dreams and desires have no meaning. I'm

not allowed to have them."

"…"

"I am just a prostitute."

What was that look of longing I saw on her face as she stared out from the

back of that chamber earlier tonight?

She's trapped in the cage of prostitution, but she's just accepted it? Accepted

everything?

The black collar around her neck flashes in the moonlight, looking more and

more like a shackle every moment.

"…It appears the time has come."

Feeling pathetic and absolutely useless, I watch Haruhime turn to the window

and gaze outside once more.

I take a look as well. The red-light district has almost come to a standstill.

More than half the magic-stone lamps are off and all the lanterns are snuffed out.

The ruckus from before feels like a distant memory.

Haruhime gracefully rises to her feet.

"I very much enjoyed our time together this evening…Thank you."

She's thanking me? Why is she thanking me? What do I say?

She takes something out of a closet in the back corner—a thick, hooded cloak

—and hands it to me. I absentmindedly take it from her outstretched hands and

obediently follow her out of the room after putting it over my head. She leads me

out of the brothel so quickly I don't realize we're outside until the cool air hits

my face.

There isn't a soul in this back alley. We leave the red-light district with the

same obscurity as childhood memories disappearing from an adult mind.

Haruhime is guiding me with a smaller paper lantern hanging on the end of a

stick.

"This passage is connected to Daedalus Street. If you avoid the main

passageway, it is highly unlikely your presence will be discovered by Aisha or

the other Amazons."

She stops and turns to face me. Many soft lights illuminate the complex

twists and turns that make up Daedalus Street.

Over two months ago now, during Monsterphilia, the goddess and I got lost

in there trying to escape from a monster. To think the Pleasure Quarter's red￾light district is directly linked to that place…

"Can you read the Ariadne signposts?"

"Y-yes…"

"Follow them closely, and you will cut through the maze in very little time."

Then she hands me the lantern.

I tilt my head, a little confused. "Quickly now, hurry." She sends me through

the archway.

I walk in a little ways before realizing she didn't come with me. I stop and

look over my shoulder.

There she is, still standing in that same spot. She smiles before giving me a

deep bow.

That archway feels like a gate between two different worlds, and she can't

take a step into this one.

"…"

I feel her gaze on my back as I make my way out of the Pleasure Quarter,

alone.

The moon was visible from the highest floor of the palace.

Beautiful tapestries decorated the walls and a rug resembling a large wheel

added color and texture to the floor. A table stood in the middle of the room,

with two covered sofas on either side. Even though this area functioned as a

meeting room, a wide bed equipped with a canopy took up most of one corner. A

profound musk hung in the air.

The magic-stone lamps mounted on the ceiling lit up the figure of a goddess

sitting on the sofa facing the doorway. A thin pyre of purple smoke rose from the

long pipe in her right hand.

"Hey, Ishtar. I'm here."

CLACK! The door opened to reveal a handsome god with a dandy smile:

Hermes.

Led to the room by the goddess's assistant, Hermes gave a quick wave. The

goddess—Ishtar—curled her lips upward the moment she saw his face.

"You've kept me waiting."

"There was quite the show going on outside. Got a bit caught up in watching,

completely forgot the time. Sorry 'bout that."

Hermes's shoulders drooped down as he apologized and cautiously took a

few steps into the room.

With that, Ishtar let the transgression slide without losing her grin.

The evening guest took a seat on the closest sofa and set down a small pouch

on the table. Ishtar's assistant kept a close eye on it from his post just inside the

doorway.

A secret meeting between deities had begun in one of Ishtar's many private

quarters.

"Any chance you're in the mood to enjoy more small talk?"

"I told you, you've kept me waiting. Get to it."

"Scaaary…Anyway—as requested, your parcel has arrived."

Hermes reached into the pouch and took out a small wooden box covered in

black lacquer.

Ishtar's grin grew even wider, satisfaction written all over her face.

"Just to be clear, news of our meeting doesn't leave this room."

"But of course. That's my duty to my client. I won't damage my own name."

Hermes had been contracted by Ishtar to do a "delivery" for her.

This particular item had traveled a great distance, passing through many

cities before finally arriving in Orario. Hermes Familia was known for their

"light footwork" and efficiency as couriers. They were often contracted to do

jobs like this.

The fact that Hermes delivered this particular package himself spoke volumes

as to the level of secrecy Ishtar required for the job.

Since the presence of guards would stick out like a sore thumb, Hermes

mingled with the customers of the Pleasure Quarter to elude prying eyes by

hiding in plain sight.

"But I can't say I feel too good about it."

Hermes leaned back onto the sofa and jerked his thumb in the direction of the

box.

Ishtar's assistant shuffled his way around the room until he stood directly

behind his goddess, eyes locked on the dandy deity as he moved.

"That's a Killing Stone, isn't it?"

The content of the box was revealed by the god himself.

The human man's eyes narrowed. Ishtar's lip twitched before she took in a

deep breath of smoke from her pipe.

"So you saw it. So much for keeping your good name as a delivery boy,

Hermes."

"Wasn't on purpose."

The deity avoided her sharp gaze and responded as if discussing the day's

news over dinner.

Suddenly, his long, thin eyes opened into a more serious expression.

"You got something in the works?"

Ishtar laughed defiantly from her seat on the other sofa.

"I'll show you something very interesting before too long."

A fire burned brightly from inside her amethyst eyes.

"A stuck-up bitch calling herself queen being knocked off her pedestal."

Hermes's shoulders quivered as Ishtar had visions of a certain Goddess of

Beauty falling into the flames.

A woman's jealousy was truly frightening.

"Hermes, do you have any information that would brighten my day? A

weakness that…woman has, perhaps?"

Ishtar's feelings of hostility toward the goddess Freya had become a raging

inferno. So she asked Hermes to provide her with a direction for the flames to

spread.

Her desire to see the one everyone called the "most beautiful" fall into the

deepest pits of despair was now an obsession.

She could see it now, Freya's pitiful face, Ishtar laughing at her from the top

of her new throne.

Hermes was always in the know and might have the information that would

allow her to make these visions a reality.

"Well, I'm a terrible liar when talking to a Goddess of Beauty; can't seem to

focus. Couldn't help it if a few things slip once in a while."

Hermes's eyes caressed the goddess's fully exposed body line, spending a

great deal of time outlining the curves of her breasts. His cheeks turned red

before he hid his eyes beneath the brim of his feathered hat.

Seeing the god like this returned the smile to her lips, her eyes flaring.

Hermes looked up, his eyes thin again with a hint of sparkle—like he was

trying to make a joke while being as vague as possible. However, what he saw

was the goddess rising from her sofa and removing her coverings.

"…What are you…?"

The crown, necklaces, bracelets, anklets, and finally the piece of cloth

holding her breasts in place all hit the floor at her feet.

Hermes's eyes shrank to the size of pinpoints as a dark shadow fell over him.

The full power of the Goddess of Beauty's tanned body had been brought to

bear.

"Rejoice. I'll squeeze every bit of useful information out of you—for free."

Hermes sat there, absolutely petrified. His joking demeanor from just a

moment ago was nowhere to be found.

She leaned down over him, puckering her luscious lips right in front of his

face.

"H-hold it, Ishtar, I-I didn't mean…!"

The dark shadow completely enveloped Hermes as the human assistant

quietly went about his business, picking up Ishtar's discarded accessories.

"AaaaAAAHHahHHAaaaaaa!" echoed throughout the room.

"Unn…Ahhh…"

A shirtless, powerless Hermes lay sprawled out on top of the canopied bed.

Tiny tears fell from the corners of his eyes.

Ishtar was back on the sofa, still naked and smoking her pipe. She exhaled a

long stream of smoke, enjoying the flavor.

"The most recent child to catch Freya's attention, yes…"

The sweat covering her body glistened in the soft light as she dramatically

crossed her legs. Her seductive aura at its peak, she smiled and whispered under

her breath.

"Bell Cranell…"

In the end, Hermes had indeed given her a way to inflict pain on her sworn

enemy. He tried to hold out, but her allure had overwhelmed him into

submission.

She had more than just Bell's name. Hermes had revealed enough details for

her to realize she had seen the boy that night. She took another hit from the pipe,

images of their brief encounter filling her mind.

"Head over heels for a pip-squeak like that…What poor taste."

More purple smoke drifted from her mouth as a smirk overtook her face.

Then, a sudden shift—to the ravenous grin of a beast.

"Fine, then. I'll make that kid mine."