Dark Fantasy Normalized

62 – Pien is Holding Back

Pien had never bothered managing her appearance in her life.

Those who had seen the ‘Lily of Daloa’, the talk of Bondales lately, would absolutely not believe it, but regardless, it was an undeniable fact.

She didn’t do it when she was kicked out of the orphanage and wandering the streets because she had no resources to manage her appearance.

She didn’t do it after awakening her identity as a True Ancestor because she had no reason to manage her appearance.

Her body, possessing such an elevated status, was always in its optimal condition.

Even without bathing, her pure white hair was smooth as silk.

Her jade-white skin only grew more elastic with the passage of time.

Even time itself seemed to proclaim its allegiance, praising her existence.

“…”

Recently, a new hobby had emerged for Pien.

Spending time in front of a mirror. That is, grooming herself.

Other women do it too, right?

There’s no real reason.

That was Pien’s claim, but in reality, it was different.

“Do I look that childish…?”

Pien acted like she didn’t care about Rishir treating her like a child, but in truth, she was massively bothered.

To enslave anyone, regardless of age or gender, yet be treated like a kid by the one man she actually cared about – the heart of a girl was a complicated thing indeed.

“First off, it’s definitely not about my looks…”

Pien was convinced, without really knowing if it was true.

How could she know? That the guy was actually aware of his past life as a modern human, that his standards for an ‘ideal woman’ were far more rigid than the world’s common standards.

That while her looks were of a ‘proper lady’ by ordinary standards, to Rishir, she was more like, ‘Ugh, hey, lemme see some ID-’?

“…Still, that guy’s eyes are like pinholes, so-“

Regardless, Pien was willing to concede a bit.

After all, it wasn’t *her* who had the problem, it was him.

Pien felt a sort of calling, that only she could fix his warped view of romance(?).

So Pien turned her interest to the art of makeup, in an attempt to understand the ‘color of adulthood’.

The result was failure.

-I don’t get it, I just don’t get it!!!

-Where do we even start with that face? How do we even touch it?!

The female staff of the Adventurer’s Guild, whom Pien asked to teach her makeup, cried out like ordinary artists faced with a masterpiece.

-…Maybe I need a little more training.

Even the maestro of makeup, the silver-ranked adventurer ‘Two-Faces,’ who had delivered endless despair to the men she spent the night with, suffered a setback that made her break her brush in frustration.

So, Pien turned her interest to a different area.

Namely, attire.

To put it plainly, that, too, was a failure.

-You, miss, look amazing in anything you wear! W-why not just go around naked!? There are no clothes in this world as beautiful as your body!

-Don’t go! Please, please wear my clothes!!!

These were the reactions of artisans from famous clothing stores in Bondales, those confident enough to put their names on their work.

Artisans with a pride bordering on arrogance: ‘I decide who wears my clothes, not the customer!’

They were overwhelmed by the very fact that Pien showed an interest in their clothing, almost to the point of having a seizure.

What was she supposed to learn from people who gave nothing but ‘’ level praise no matter what clothes she wore?

So Pien moved her interest to yet another area.

Namely, behavior.

Pien went to find a courtesan in Bondales.

-‘The Lily of Dalloa’s’ business…what is it for me?

To learn the ‘adult color’ from them, those high-class prostitutes who cater only to the nobility.

-My lady, you are so beautiful…

-If it was this lady, I could give up this life and build a family together…

-My lady!!! Please! I, I have so much money! For you, I can sleep with any man!!! All of my money is yours!!!

-There’s a whole carriage of nobles who’d buy you a mansion if you’d share a night with them!!! It’s all yours!!!

She had them hooked.

Far from teaching her what ‘adult color’ was, those women who held nobles as slaves to their desire were, in fact, captivated by Pien, willingly becoming her slaves.

It was a situation that arose from her perfect looks, amplified by the seductive power of her mere existence.

It’s funny, when you think about it.

A being who is, in a way, the embodiment of seduction, trying to learn ‘adult color’ from ordinary humans.

It was like a predator going to learn hunting techniques from its prey.

Pien was newly aware of the critical problem with the situation she faced.

The only man in this world who could see her as ‘just a kid’ was Rishir.

Therefore, if there was anyone who could point out and correct her shortcomings, it would also be Rishir.

“Annoying.”

Even so, Pien did not give up.

She did her makeup in front of the mirror, practiced her vocalization and gestures, and tried on various accessories and clothes.

With the sole aim of making that man her slave.

That’s right.

This was all to repay the humiliation she suffered from him, not in any way to win his favor.

Pien convinced herself of that, and spared no effort in many areas.

…This too, could be said to be part of that effort.

Pien absolutely avoided the power of mental interference.

The same went for blood-sucking.

Because she had promised not to harm him and humans.

***

“Pien. I need you to make some time today~ Or else I’m really going to join another guild?”

“Excuse me, is it not possible to hire Pien? She is, after all, an official member of this Adventurer’s Guild. If you continue like this, I too, might have to reconsider my investment.”

I must absolutely not go to the Dalroa counter.

Since Pien’s existence had begun to spread throughout Bondales as ‘The Lily of Dalroa,’ all sorts of vermin had started swarming around the Dalroa Guild where she worked.

Adventurers and clients, their requests for a meeting veiled as barely-veiled threats.

Pien felt a nauseating discomfort when she first encountered them.

But she would later learn they were nothing.

“Hey Pien, how about you make some time for me today, huh?”

“…I told you not to come back.”

“Don’t talk such dumb shit. If you come to me, I won’t come here, right? Don’t play so hard to get. You, subtly holding back, trying to act like a ‘secret noble.’ Think I don’t know? You’re just a commoner. Huh? I’ve already done my background check. You’re in this for the money too, aren’t you? So, come to me and change your fate, huh? Is it that hard to understand?”

As darkness fell and Pien began her walk home, there was always a man waiting for her.

Tord.

Publicly presenting himself as the master of the Foarton mercenary guild, he was actually a high-ranking member of a massive criminal organization that controlled the north of Bondales.

When he courted Pien, he emphasized how important he was, and when Pien refused him, he emphasized how dangerous he was.

“…”

From what Pien had learned through high-class prostitutes,

Tord’s words were not bluster.

The influence his criminal organization wielded in the city was immense. There were even rumors that they were connected to the city council, so not even the city’s nobles dared treat him carelessly.

How much more so for a foreign adventurer, a counter girl in the guild without any real backing?

“Isn’t this enough? The push and pull. I enjoy a headstrong woman, so I enjoyed it. But. Any more than this – if you want to keep living in Bondales, you better start understanding your place. While I’m still being a gentleman.”

Tord pressed her, as if he knew the facts all too well.

‘Pathetic.’

However, the counter girl had already confirmed that he couldn’t resist her mental interference.

The one whose life would be ruined the instant they decided to, wasn’t the counter girl, but the executive of a criminal organization.

That fact was a comfort to Pien.

At the same time, it frustrated her even more.

Because she had promised him she wouldn’t use the power of mental interference on humans.

Pien was more afraid of being scorned by him than of being ignored by this pathetic insect.

“Let’s talk on better terms tomorrow.”

The power of allure was still working.

The vile criminal, even while consumed by lust, didn’t cross the final line.

And so, the True Ancestor sent the pathetic insect away as he was.

To soothe her frustrated mood, Pien headed to the magic tower.

Just looking at Leshir, lying there so peacefully, seemed to alleviate her frustration a little.

But the bug came back the next day too.

The next day.

The next day.

And the next.

And with it, his absence, growing longer.

Then, one day.

There was a turning point, a moment when Fienne definitively realized the severity of her state.

The first turning point.

“When the hell are you going to wake up? Get up already and spout some of your usual nonsense… Hah! What am I even saying.”

She found herself missing Lysir’s nonsense.

And the second turning point.

“You son of a b*tch—”

“Hey, you fucker! Who the hell are you to say that! Are you anything to Fienne!?”

A brawl broke out between adventurers at the guild.

And so, after a long while, she saw red blood.

Thump! Thump!

The stress that had been building up was triggering the desires she had been suppressing.

It was fortunate, one might say.

Looking at the blood before her, Fienne felt nothing, at first.

It was merely the trigger.

A trigger that made her think of one man’s face.