Volume 6 Chapter 109 Drone Wars
Edited by: Kanaa-senpai
In my castle’s audiovisual room, there’s a large LCD monitor and a video projector. The wives set it up. Without me noticing, they’ve become surprisingly adept with AV equipment—even El, who once lived untouched by civilization. She’s sharp, that one.
”Even though Ms. Shirakaba was guiding them,” I muttered, watching Nina flip through a digital manual, “I’m still amazed that people who didn’t even know what electricity was until recently are now this tech-savvy.”
Nina can even recite Ohm’s Law. It’s not like you need that to use a microwave, but she insists on understanding how things work. She’s been studying hard with e-books.
”Is it that people from another world are just smart,” I mused aloud, “or is Nina simply too much of a genius?”
”She claims there’s a trick to picking up languages,” I added, leaning back, “but really, she’s probably just a genius.”
Thanks to the wives doing whatever they pleased, the audiovisual room has become a paradise for the idle and indulgent.
A long-haired acrylic carpet sprawls across the floor, and fluffy cushions are scattered everywhere. There’s even a giant dolphin-shaped body pillow for some reason. The sofas are buried under more cushions. An air conditioner hums on the wall. The fridge is crammed with cola, and a basket overflows with chip bags.
The fridge is a godsend. Since the dwarves are starting to craft them as magic tools, this tech might catch on among the nobility. Commoners, though, probably can’t afford it—dwarves insist on mithril for everything, which sends prices soaring. A fridge that lasts a thousand years? Bit much, don’t you think?
For our own use, it’s far cheaper to import regular appliances from Japan. A decent one goes for just a single gold coin. With solar panels and a portable power supply, we’re set. No electricity troubles here.
Sure, solar panels have issues—fires, disposal—but the castle is stone-built, and this region doesn’t get earthquakes or typhoons. When they’re spent, can’t we just pickle them in a magic bag? Or toss them into the dimensional void? Half of it disappears anyway—makes for perfect waste disposal.
On the corkboard by the door, someone had pinned up pop-style posters reading “Save electricity regularly” and “TV for one hour a day.” Probably Shea-Shea’s doing.
The one-hour rule came after a discussion among the wives. The personal devices they’d been given were rounded up and sent to Uno’s nest. Right now, the intermediate spirits on babysitting duty are likely binging anime.
People were losing sleep and skipping meals over anime and games, and the wives seemed to realize they’d rot away if it continued. I actually respect them for reining themselves in.
* * *
Though the audiovisual room is now mostly the wives’ hangout, today it’s serving its original purpose.
The large monitor displays footage captured by a drone last night. Yakou had been piloting it, with her goggles receiving a live feed. It’s an FPV [T/N: First-Person View] drone—remotely controlled from her perspective.
Plug in the memory card and the goggles auto-record. It makes for solid reconnaissance gear. This wasn’t just Yakou playing with a toy.
Near the cathedral where we held our wedding, there was a suspicious entrance leading underground.
It’s an area that blocks Radar Scan. Clearly, something significant is hidden there.
A spirit-warding barrier had been erected, enough to keep even Yakou out. Sending in human operatives would be pointless.
”Intelligence work always comes with risk,” I said, pacing. “But we’re nowhere near skilled enough to pull this off. I’m not sending anyone to their death for nothing.”
The commander’s burden is brutal. One misstep means someone dies. And there’s no such thing as a right answer.
”How valuable is the intel in the inner sanctum?” I asked aloud, staring at the footage. “Right now, I honestly don’t know.”
Rumor places the inner sanctum deep in some sacred mountain. Sounds legit—but nine times out of ten, it’s probably a lie.
Historically, Demon Kings always targeted the Holy Capital. I assumed they were after the Grand Temple—but what if their real goal was to destroy the inner sanctum?
”If we could get our hands on whoever’s running the sanctum and offer them up to the Demon King,” I said, tapping my chin, “could we negotiate with the Demon King’s army?”
But then again, we don’t even know if the sanctum folks are good or evil. If they’re on the dark side, I’ve got no interest in shielding them.
Using humanity as a meat shield disgusts me.
So, we went with drone reconnaissance.
Drones aren’t spirits, so they pass through the barrier. They can soar over walls and moats with ease. If one gets shot down, no one dies. Low risk, high reward.
The drones my uncle sends from Earth are top-tier—and cheap. Stuff that used to be high-tech spy gear is now kid-friendly. What a time to be alive.
Japan’s got strict drone laws, but here? Nothing.
Just flying overhead and making a map could reveal a country’s military secrets. It’s practically cheating.
I figured anti-air magic—specifically, the Curse of the Sky—would shoot them down instantly. But turns out lightweight drones mostly get a pass.
The Curse doesn’t bother insects or small birds much. Against something the size of a brown quail, it’s a mild nuisance. The crash limit seems to be around ten kilograms.
This time, we’re sending the drone into an underground tunnel. That means signal issues.
Thankfully, my uncle included a few relay devices. Designed for mountainous areas with poor reception, they’re specialty gear—and cost more than the drones themselves.
With a faint buzz like an insect’s wings, the drone zipped down the tunnel. It had a mic along with the camera.
”At this noise level,” I said, watching the screen, “any lookout would definitely notice.”
”But there’s no one here,” Yakou replied, peering through her goggles.
Infrared lights pierced the darkness. They should be invisible to regular human eyes—but with skill users around, we can’t be too sure.
Yakou and I have watched this footage three times now. Everything had gone smoothly up to this point.
The drone spirals down a long staircase. Navigating narrow corridors on a diagonal isn’t easy, but Yakou’s gotten good.
Then we enter a vast chamber. The occasional screen flickers are signal interference. I’ll need to install another relay node.
The space resembles a domed stadium. Since we still have connection, it’s not a pocket dimension.
The facility is astounding—nothing I’ve seen, not even in Cold War-era American nuclear shelters, compares.
It’s even more massive than that underground temple in Saitama.
”Who built this—aliens?” I muttered.
At the center stands a massive, menacing pyramid—sharper than Giza’s, glowing faintly near the apex.
Suddenly, the screen goes white. Transmission ends.
”Ahhh!! My drone!” Yakou cried, gripping her goggles.
It’s the third time she’s screamed like that. She tries to stay composed, but her emotions leak out fast.
”Hmm… looks like it was shot down,” I said, frowning. “But both relay stations came back intact. Hm?”
”Hey, Yakou, did anyone tail you when you went to retrieve the relays?” I asked.
”Eh? Ahhh!” she yelped, smacking her forehead.
Too careless.
Honestly, it might’ve been safer to self-destruct the drone midair. Costly, but worth it for security.
”I put a curse on them,” Yakou mumbled. “They should melt on impact. So… probably not in enemy hands. Still, what a waste…!”
”Don’t worry,” I said, patting her shoulder. “I’ll buy you new ones.”
”Really?! For true-degozaru?” she beamed.
I seriously doubt any real kunoichi [T/N: female ninja] ever said gozaru.
Anyway, anime and period dramas made that stuff up.
* * *
”It’s TV time! Hey, what’s this? Yakou gets something bought for her? That’s not fair!” Uno shouted, bursting into the room.
Uno and my other wives filed in noisily. Lately, everyone’s been looking forward to TV time. The Demon King’s army might be stalled, but technically, we’re still in a state of emergency.
Uno and the spirits have been commuting daily to the Valley of Trials and back, but they always make it back in time for the evening broadcast. It’s actually helpful for gathering and sharing intel.
”The spirits guarding the valley need more TVs too,” Uno added, frowning. “Hard disks and batteries don’t last more than ten years, and the TV sets keep breaking.”
A dragon worrying about hard disks—what a world. Times really have changed.
”Lady Uno, ten years is impressive for such machinery. That’s the average lifespan of these devices,” Ms. Shirakaba said calmly.
Apparently, that’s standard for household electronics. I never really gave it much thought, but maybe using them in Uno’s nest is tougher than I imagined. They didn’t have anything like this before, so once you get used to it, it’s hard to go without.
As for the batteries, well, this world’s electric pots can be used, but the adjustments are too much of a hassle. It’s easier just to order Japanese-made ones.
”By the way, how long do computers last in this world?” Uno asked, poking a half-broken monitor.
They’re basically the same as Earth’s computers, except they run on magic crystals. Specs are low, though—primitive by modern standards.
”If you swap out the magic crystal, there’s no real lifespan, right?” Shirakaba mused. “I wonder where they make those? If it’s not the dwarves, then definitely the Inner Sanctum?”
”The Inner Sanctum here too?” I asked. “I wonder if it’s just a group of engineers?”
After that, everyone went back to watching the drone footage. Uno and the others were glued to the screen, visibly intrigued. I’d expected complaints about missing anime, but surprisingly, they were all in.
”I’ve seen that beam that flies in at the end,” Uno said, pointing. “Um, it’s that thing, the one that’s not magic.”
A beam? I paused the video on Uno’s cue. One frame did show something—barely visible, but there. Good eye.
”Um, it might be similar to my beam,” Ms. Nina murmured.
Ms. Nina’s beam? What is she talking about?
”Oh, the one from your armor, right?” Shirakaba asked. “It does look similar. Didn’t you also have a barrier that comes from your hand?”
Barrier? That sounds like a special skill. What does Ms. Shirakaba know that I don’t?
”From the crystal ball in my right arm, I can generate a shield of light,” Ms. Nina explained, raising her hand. “And from the one in my left chest, I can fire a destructive beam. It takes a lot of magic power, so I only use it as a last resort.”
Right now, Ms. Nina’s body is practically human—she has an MP bar and everything. If it runs on magic, then it is magic, right?
”Nina’s armor came from the puppeteer’s dungeon, didn’t it?” Uno asked. “That place is probably an alien spaceship. Oh! Maybe the mastermind behind the Inner Sanctum is an alien too. I mean, it’s a pyramid, right? And when you think pyramids, you think aliens.”
Right, Uno always loved those mystery specials. Especially the ones about aliens—he even collected figures of little greys and UFOs.
”Are there aliens in this world too?” Shirakaba asked, her tone bright with curiosity.
”There are,” Uno said confidently. “Didn’t I tell you, Shirakaba? I even got a spaceship once.”
”Wait, that spaceship? The wreckage that was lying around in your nest?!” she gasped.
”That was because Lady Uno messed with it too much…” a spirit muttered under its breath.
”Shut up!” Uno snapped. “It’s not my fault. Tools that break easily are to blame!”
Maybe it’s just the arrogance of being part of the strongest race. Still, when it comes to dragons, picking up, receiving, and plundering are basically the same thing—just a shift in nuance.
Uno’s technically a good dragon, but honestly, she’s not that different from a brat in an orange T-shirt. If this is the good one, I don’t even want to imagine the bad ones.
Come to think of it, I always suspected the puppeteer’s dungeon was part of a spaceship too. The armor I got there—Ms. Nina’s—has this sleek, sci-fi design. It even had lens-like decorations. I never imagined it could actually fire beams, though.
”Um, has Lady Uno ever met an alien?” Shirakaba asked, her eyes sparkling.
”I met one a long time ago,” Uno said, puffing up. “It looked like a little grey. So they really were aliens.”
They’re really spouting some nonsense now. This all sounds like made-up junk. I mean, I shouldn’t even know what an alien is if not for that video from Earth.
Still, from this world’s perspective, I’m an alien too—a Summoned Hero. And what Uno means by “aliens” are the classic ones: little gray guys in UFOs.
What if the Inner Sanctum really is run by aliens like that? Sounds like a wild conspiracy theory, but…
I’ve been thinking: what if the Demon King’s army has been targeting the Inner Sanctum all along? What if that’s their real objective?
If I tie that theory together—could the Demon King actually be the hero? Fighting for justice, trying to protect this world from alien invaders?
”Hey, lend me a drone too!” Uno demanded, apparently bored of the conversation.
Figures. Typical spoiled dragon behavior.
I pulled a toy drone from my magic bag. It’s too small for real recon—battery life is short—but it has a built-in camera and works great for indoor play.
”This is fun!! Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Uno cried, gleefully flying it around.
Well, I did show you once before. You just weren’t interested at the time.
”Wow, it doesn’t fall, even with the Curse of the Sky,” someone observed.
Frapatica was now launching attacks at Uno’s drone. Reckless as always.
”Hahaha! Such attacks won’t work on me!!” Uno declared, dodging with flair.
”It twitches every time the magic hits, though,” Shirakaba said, watching closely. “Is it automatically correcting its posture? Like with gyros?”
Ms. Shirakaba sure knows her tech. The drone does have a stabilization mechanism that rights it instantly—even if it tilts mid-air. Hitting it with the Curse of the Sky [T/N: a magical anti-air spell] once barely affects it.
A few little wind spirits fluttered over and started playing on the drone. Spirits don’t usually have weight, but when they materialize, they can adjust it a bit.
”Hey, don’t get in the way!” Uno yelled. “Ah, it’s falling! You’re too heavy!”
The spirits scolded by Uno vanished in a flash, sending the drone rocketing upward—where it promptly slammed into the ceiling. It dropped with a sad clunk and rolled across the floor.
”Saburou, it’s broken—” Uno said, crouching beside the wreckage.
Is this really a kid? And yet, somehow one of the oldest beings in this world.
”It’s okay, the propeller just snapped,” Saburou muttered, inspecting the damage.
Well, no choice, then. I’ll try remaking the propeller using raw mithril. It’s tough enough that I can make it razor-thin. A super-lightweight, hyper-durable custom propeller—complete.
”I’m glad it’s fixed,” Uno said, eyes sparkling. “What should I name this little one?”
Looks like I’ve gotten attached.
The other wives wanted drones too. Before I knew it, the audiovisual room had become a makeshift drone arena.
There were plenty of toy drones, but syncing them all to fly at once for every wife? A logistical nightmare.
Only Shea-chan sat by herself, piloting on the drone simulator. Seems she prefers virtual thrills to the real thing.
Also, those mithril propellers turned out to be too dangerous. One sliced clean through the LCD monitor on impact.
With the right modifications, they could double as weapons.
* * *
I’d shelved the matter of the inner sanctum for a while—until now.
”Huh? A summons from the inner sanctum?” I asked, staring at the sealed parchment.
”Do you have any idea why?” Uno asked, her voice low.
Sending the Cardinal as a messenger means the inner sanctum isn’t just ceremonial—they’ve got real power.
Even if I think it over… could they have traced the drone incident? I cleaned up the evidence, didn’t I? Maybe they followed the relay device that returned… or picked up the signal.
”Just ignore the summons. Ignore it. If I go there, who knows what they’ll do to me?” I muttered, pacing.
”Ignoring it is not an option, Lady Uno!” the Cardinal cried, bowing deeply. “I guarantee Your Majesty’s safety!”
”Oh? Well said,” Uno replied, eyes narrowing. “Then swear it—to the contract god. If anything happens to my husband, you’re done for.”
When she switches to her no ja mode, Uno’s terrifying. She calls it the dignity of the strong, but it feels more like a high-level intimidation skill.
”Yes, yes, a contract with the god, understood,” the Cardinal stammered.
Shea-chan handed over a parchment stamped with a golden seal. Nice assist.
Ah—there! The Cardinal’s poker face twitched.
What followed was a protest worthy of a stage play. He desperately refused to sign, almost pathetically. Then he grew combative.
Yep, this is a trap.
”Trying to trap us, huh? At least have the guts to risk your own life,” Uno snapped.
He’s always ordering subordinates to risk theirs, but won’t lift a finger himself.
Still… I guess that’s just human nature.
”You must enter the Great Temple by noon tomorrow! That’s final!” the Cardinal barked.
He left like he was escaping—almost crawling. Poor guy got dragged into something nasty. I don’t pity him, but I get it.
If he’s secretly on our side, great… but is the inner sanctum really that terrifying?
* * *
Knowing it’s a trap made me want to ignore it altogether.
But Uno was fired up. She called it a chance to seize the inner sanctum by the tail.
Curiosity might just kill the dragon.
”We’re allowed one attendant, right? I’ll go with you,” Uno offered.
”That won’t fly, Ms. Uno. You’re a dragon—the strongest race. They’ll have solid countermeasures in place,” Ms. Shirakaba said.
”Then I’ll wear my invincible armor. It even shoots beams!”
”No way. Ms. Nina’s armor is probably reverse-engineered from enemy tech,” Ms. Shirakaba said, frowning. “This mission needs someone like me.”
But Ms. Shirakaba’s out too. She’s the only female among the Summoned Heroes. They’d treat her like a lab rat.
It’d be like laying out a feast… then tossing her into the fire.
That leaves someone from the advanced spirits. Maybe Water’s Exceneca or Dark’s Mubiel?
”In terms of not having countermeasures, I’m the best choice,” said a calm voice.
Light’s Emera stepped forward. That was unexpected.
”For a bodyguard, you’re a perfect fit,” Uno said, giving her a thumbs-up. “Even I’d find dealing with you annoying.”
So Emera is that strong?
”There are spirit-repelling barriers and all. You’ll be okay with that?” I asked.
”That level? I can handle it,” she said, chin held high.
Emera’s the honor-student type—confident, composed. She’d never admit it, but she’s got a clumsy streak.
And maybe a hint of tsundere [T/N: aloof character who becomes affectionate over time]? Not overly prickly, not overly sweet—just the right touch.
She’s not as destructive as Fire’s Frapatica, but we’re not going to war.
A jack-of-all-trades with sky-high magic output? That’s probably ideal.
Advanced spirits are monsters in terms of raw power—Emera could crush an army solo if she felt like it.
I’ve made up my mind.
I set the save point at Uno’s nest. If things go south, I can come back.
Resurrection’s more likely to succeed than teleporting to Earth, after all.
This world is riddled with fatal surprises. Even a casual tasting contest with the Demon King could spiral into a lethal encounter.
”If they try anything shady, Emera—give the signal. If it comes to that, we’ll storm the place and flatten it,” Uno said, her voice hard.
She really might blow up the inner sanctum. Honestly, it probably deserves it.
”Am I bait?” I asked, sighing.
”There’s no substitute for you,” Uno replied sweetly. “Don’t worry—we’ll launch a surprise attack through the Elemental Plane. The trick is hitting just before the final boss.”
We might actually win this.
”Fine. I’ll leave the fighting to you guys,” I said, letting it go.
”What if the final boss turns out to be surprisingly reasonable?” Emera asked.
”With these situations, you’ve just gotta go for it,” Frapatica said, flexing. “The ones who hesitate always make things worse.”
”Exactly. Land the first hit to gain the upper hand. Talk later,” Uno added.
Their meathead logic sounds uncomfortably convincing. In a medieval world, it’s basically common sense.
”How about Lady Shirakaba and I sneak in through your magic bag?” Shea-chan suggested.
That’s actually a good idea. A magic bag big enough for people is basically a cheat code.
If we pack an airborne unit inside, we might blitz the final boss in one move.
The tricky part is the trust factor. You can’t just stuff someone in by force—unless you knock them out first.
”No… I want Tizzy and the others to stay here and guard the castle,” I said.
”Then I’ll go,” Ms. Nina offered quietly.
…Really? I wasn’t expecting much from her in combat, but still, it made me weirdly happy.
”Hmm, I might prefer that too,” Uno said, nodding. “Traveling through the Elemental Plane is rough on my skin.”
Even dragon scales get damaged? The Elemental Plane [T/N: a spirit-dwelling subdimension] just keeps getting weirder.
It’s meant for spirits. A living human making it through seems impossible.
* * *
I put on a brave face in front of my wives, but that night, I couldn’t sleep. My mind spun endlessly.
Too much time to think is a curse. Honestly, I’d rather go train at Uno’s nest for a few years and toughen up.
Come to think of it, why didn’t I honeymoon at Uno’s nest with my wives? It’s beautiful. Mystical.
I should’ve spent years there, curled up with them until I got bored.
I did plan it. I waited for Princess Auroora to return to her country first. The next time she came back, I was going to act.
If I’d known things would turn out like this, I would’ve done it already.
I remember hearing that the Goddess of Luck only has bangs—no time to grab her by the ponytail.
When something crosses your mind, act. In this world, the next chance might not come.
Morning arrived while I lay awake. I dressed in formal wear and climbed into the carriage.
Emera, dressed properly, looked every bit a real princess.
Though according to Princess Auroora, true royalty should be a little more understated.
They say clothes make the man. But upbringing trumps blood.
In the end, it all comes down to education.
Shea-chan, trained thoroughly by Miss Floria, can now pass for a noble princess when dressed up.
Manners matter. As king, I can’t treat this like someone else’s problem.
”I hate etiquette, but I’ll do my best,” I muttered.
* * *
At the Great Temple, a Cardinal surrounded by warrior monks stood waiting.
Had Uno scared him that badly yesterday? Is this revenge?
But even the warrior monks are trembling. Whispers are spreading.
Even reckless brutes don’t want to be turned into pillars of salt.
”Please be sure not to make any blunders in front of the priestesses. They are the revered ones who protect the world,” one monk warned solemnly.
Priestesses? I tilted my head. So they’re women—and plural?
Emera shot me a glare.
”It’s fine, I won’t cheat,” I said quickly. “Would I crave instant ramen while eating a full-course French meal? I’ve got my beloved wives. Even if tempted, I wouldn’t so much as look away, you know?”
Still, just because they’re called priestesses doesn’t mean they have to be young women.
It’d be rude to look disappointed if they turned out to be old hags.
”I should mentally prepare myself for all possibilities,” I muttered.
➖➖
The muscle-bound escorts only accompanied us to the barrier’s entrance.
Waiting just ahead was a small, robed figure.
From here, he would be our guide—or so I assumed.
The instant we crossed the barrier, the atmosphere shifted.
That kind of sensation’s fairly common in magical places.
Emera followed behind without issue.
I stole a glance at the robed figure.
Could it be magic that clouds recognition?
Or… science?
If Uno’s theories are right, this might be alien tech—optical camouflage, hypnotic waves, that sort of thing. [T/N: Common sci-fi tropes involving advanced tech.]
I couldn’t see the face under the hood, but the build matched the appearance: light frame, small stature.
A kid? A goblin?
Their steps were soft, almost soundless.
Slender build, little muscle—probably a magic-user.
If it’s an assassin, though, that’s a problem.
The corridor stretched on, long and silent. Even a drone would’ve found it a hike.
Still, I’d take this over running into monsters.
Eventually, we arrived at a vast underground chamber.
Before us stood a pyramid, its presence almost majestic.
I searched for the beam’s launch point, but found nothing.
There must be a hidden hatch or some mechanism.
Which meant it couldn’t be fired immediately.
”I could call Uno and the others now and still beat the clock,” I murmured.
The entrance sat at the pyramid’s base.
”Huh. Is this really it?” I said aloud.
I’d pictured something more dramatic—like entering from the middle.
Then again, we’re underground. No need to worry about rain getting in.
The corridor’s floor and walls had the same aura as the Puppeteer’s dungeon.
The materials, the design, even the atmosphere—it all had that familiar scent of civilization. [T/N: A poetic term implying cultural sophistication.]
No teleportation circles, but the doors opened automatically.
A step behind the Puppeteer’s dungeon, perhaps?
Then again, civilizations regress.
Skills vanish when no successors remain.
Lose a few key components, and even advanced societies can collapse.
If the ones in the inner sanctum are aliens, their downfall likely began the moment they lost contact with their homeworld.
”What are they doing here?” I wondered. “Trying to rule the world from the shadows?”
Sounds like a manga plot—but also entirely possible.
And what would an alien god even be like?
Earth’s gods don’t exist in this world, but similar ones do.
Still, what is a god?
Even Stone Age humans had them.
But primates don’t.
So when did gods first appear?
Homo habilis? Homo erectus? The ape-men?
I’d love to ask a god directly—but even if they answered, could I believe it?
Maybe aliens don’t know what gods are, either.
Still, they seem to act like priestesses or something.
* * *
A large door, carved with elaborate reliefs, stood before us.
Its style clashed with the surrounding architecture—like it had been bolted on as an afterthought.
”Looks like we’ve arrived,” I said, stepping closer.
It wasn’t automatic, so I pushed it open.
No lock, just old-fashioned hinges.
An audience chamber?
The air carried a faintly fishy scent—not blood, but something more… intimate.
One I’d come to recognize during certain moments.
Dim light filled the room.
At its center, a massive canopied bed—king-sized, maybe bigger.
Big enough for El to sprawl out on.
Soft giggles echoed through the space.
They knew we were here—but didn’t care.
Behind a veil as fine as silk, pale bodies twisted together.
How many were there?
More limbs than a threesome.
Counting the heads, I got four.
”A foursome, huh,” I muttered.
”Ah… ahh…”
Emera’s face flushed crimson. She flailed, clearly flustered.
Was that their plan?
Nobles often staged such scenes to throw guests off and seize the psychological upper hand.
”I’m not losing to this,” I whispered to myself. “Four people? Big deal.”
Emera and I had done bigger group sessions.
No need to get shaken.
Still… doing it right in front of others? That took guts.
Was it boldness? Or did they see it as divine?
S*x in front of gods—that feels wildly inappropriate.
But that’s probably just modern Japanese sensibility talking.
In this world, gods don’t draw lines like that.
Cooking, poetry, theater, sculpture, martial arts matches, public executions, and even wars—
—all are valid offerings.
Monotheistic traditions would call it demonic.
But here, evil gods and vengeful gods are gods just the same.
There’s variety. Diversity.
➖➖
I watched the scene as if through a god’s eyes.
It reminded me of beetles mating—distant, impersonal.
If you don’t empathize, there’s no thrill.
To be blunt, they were bad at it.
The three women just lay there.
The man looked like he’d been coerced.
There wasn’t even curiosity—much less love.
Then I caught the man’s face.
Wasn’t that the Conqueror King?
People had whispered he might be a woman, his beauty was so ethereal.
But no—he was just a pretty man, and kind of scrawny at that.
Honestly, he should’ve kept his clothes on.
Wait—what’s he doing here?
I had a guess.
And it made my stomach twist.
Notes:
• El – She is a giant woman, appeared as Saburou’s captor, living alone in a large tent, skilled in hunting and cooking, proposes marriage to Saburou.
• Shirakaba – A paladin who seems to be a skilled fighter. He’s introduced as someone with a strong defense and healing abilities.
• Nina – Doll Princess (Auroora 217), renamed by the protagonist. Beautiful blonde, ~168 cm, slim waist. Wears adventurer attire. Made from artificial parts and wooden limbs, resembling a princess. Knowledgeable, can read, write, and use basic healing magic. Reliable partner, often saves the protagonist with her skills.
• Shea-Shea – Mauro’s daughter. Hurt by Alexander. Became an eager fiancée after advice from protagonist.
• Yakou – A newly created kunoichi spirit with high specs from Mubiel. She pledges loyalty to the Narrator as her ‘Lord Shogun’ and seeks to punish villains.
• Ms. Nina – Doll Princess (Auroora 217), renamed by the protagonist. Beautiful blonde, ~168 cm, slim waist. Wears adventurer attire. Made from artificial parts and wooden limbs, resembling a princess. Knowledgeable, can read, write, and use basic healing magic. Reliable partner, often saves the protagonist with her skills.
• Frapatica – Advanced Fire Spirit, brown skin, fiery red hair, striking red leather bikini armor, youthful beneath a mature appearance, Edo-girl speaking style, kind, offers her name as a sign of trust
• Exceneca – Lady Uno’s butler girl
• Mubiel – Dark spirit; visually identified by “bell-bottoms,” competitive attitude, claims 108 bedroom techniques, but is a virgin and surprisingly innocent
• Emera – Light spirit, small chest, sharp-tongued but earnest; possibly tsundere.
• Tizzy – Claims to be Duke’s daughter, a noble with advanced magic skills. MC and Ms. Shirakaba lover.
• Miss Floria – Elegant, silver-haired noblewoman in her 40s, referred to as an ‘older sister’. Judge of the Supreme Court and Baroness. Former tutor of Princess Auroora. Initially stern but warms up, showing a playful side. Close with Ms. Nina (Princess Auroora’s doll copy), treating her like a sister. Trustworthy and explains legal matters clearly.
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Edited by Kanaa-senpai.
Thanks for reading.
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