Tactical Embarrassment

The scream tore through the morning forest like a knife through silence. I was on my feet before my brain had fully processed what I'd heard, already sprinting toward the sound with the reckless abandon of someone who hadn't quite realised he was about to run headfirst into danger.

"Of course," I panted as I leaped over a fallen log, my divinely-granted rope bouncing against my hip. "Less than one day in a fantasy world and I'm already chasing mysterious screams through enchanted forests. Next I'll be finding a legendary sword or adopting a slime as a pet."

My mind raced through the ridiculous collection of skills the deities had dumped on me. Bubble Creation? Temperature Assessment? Perfect Kiss? What exactly did they expect me to do with this hodgepodge of abilities? Fight monsters with perfectly folded laundry?

"I mean, seriously," I wheezed to myself as I ducked under a low-hanging branch, "who gives someone Tantric Energy but not, I don't know, Fireball or something actually useful in combat?"

Dappled sunlight filtered through the forest canopy, creating shifting patterns on the underbrush as I charged forward. My Roommate Awareness ability pulsed at the edge of its range, confirming someone was definitely nearby. For a skill I'd never have wasted 5 points on, it was surprisingly handy outside its intended purpose.

The vibrant colours of this alien forest blurred around me—flowers in impossible hues of blue and purple, trees with bark that seemed to shimmer when caught in direct sunlight, and strange mushrooms that emitted tiny puffs of glittering spores as I rushed past.

Another scream rang out, closer this time, followed by angry, guttural words in a language I didn't recognise. The voice was unmistakably female, fierce and defiant despite the obvious distress.

I burst through a final tangle of undergrowth into a small clearing bathed in golden morning light and skidded to a halt at the scene before me.

In the centre of the clearing stood a woman—though "woman" seemed an insufficient term for the being before me. She was clearly not human, with skin a striking blue-grey hue that caught the sunlight in a way that made it seem almost metallic in places. Her long, pointed ears extended horizontally rather than vertically, their tips twitching slightly as she tracked the movements around her. Most remarkably, faint bioluminescent patterns pulsed beneath her skin, creating subtle, shifting designs that seemed to respond to her emotional state.

But there was no time to admire her exotic appearance, because she was surrounded by six squat, grotesque creatures that could only be goblins. They circled her like predators, wielding crude weapons and chittering in high-pitched voices that sounded like a mix between laughter and snarls.

The woman held a jagged branch like a spear, jabbing it threateningly at any goblin that ventured too close. Her face was a mask of fierce determination, though I could see the exhaustion in the slight tremor of her arms and the heaving of her chest. Her striking silver hair—styled in two practical ponytails that hung down her back—caught the sunlight, revealing occasional platinum highlights that shimmered with her movements. The effect was mesmerising even in this dire situation.

"Narthi vel'drath, ukil shovak!" she spat at the nearest goblin as it prodded at her with its weapon. "Xar'karesh Luxuriveth nah'sovalin!"

My Heightened Dust Perception ability suddenly activated, drawing my attention to the faintest shimmer of magical residue floating in the air around her. Whatever she was, she'd been casting magic—recently and powerfully.

The goblin cackled in response, clearly enjoying tormenting her rather than just attacking outright. They were playing with her, I realised—wearing her down methodically.

Her tunic, clearly once elegant, was now torn in several places, revealing glimpses of what was unmistakably an intricate black lace bra underneath. The garment strained to contain what my stunned brain automatically categorized as an I-cup by Japanese standards—a detail I was mortified to notice even in this life-threatening situation. It also featured silver threading that formed complex symbols or script against the darker material, creating a striking contrast against her blue-grey skin where it was visible through the torn fabric.

Wait—lace lingerie? Again?

"Why?" I silently lamented to whatever deity might be listening. "Why does everyone in this world wear lace lingerie, even when travelling through monster-infested forests? Is this some cosmic dress code I missed in the orientation?"

A horrible thought struck me: what if this was Naomi-san? What if the interdimensional journey had completely transformed her appearance? What if, by some narrative convenience, the first person I encountered was the sisters' mother?

"No," I muttered, shaking my head. "That would be too convenient, right? Even isekai plots aren't that lazily constructed... are they?"

But there was no mistaking this woman for Naomi-san—her features, colouration, and the unmistakable bioluminescent patterns visible beneath her skin marked her as something entirely different. She looked like some kind of elf from the fantasy games I'd played, though I'd never seen one quite this striking.

Meanwhile, the standoff in the clearing was reaching a critical point. The woman was visibly tiring, her defensive jabs becoming slower, less coordinated. One goblin, bolder than the others, darted in and slashed at her with a rusty dagger, forcing her to leap awkwardly aside. She stumbled slightly, and I saw the goblins tense, sensing weakness.

I needed to act. Now.

But what could I do? My divine selections were primarily focused on mundane conveniences and... questionable romantic enhancements. Perfect for impressing dinner guests or a potential partner, useless for battling fantasy monsters.

Then I remembered: the Wooden Puppet Skill. Not something I would have chosen if I'd been required to spend precious selection points on it, but now that I had it for free...

Looking around frantically, I spotted several fallen branches at the edge of the clearing. I concentrated, focusing on the mental trigger that had activated when the deities granted me the selection.

To my surprise, the branches twitched. Then, responding to my mental direction, they rose unsteadily into the air, hovering about a foot off the ground.

Now what? I had no idea how to make them do anything useful like, say, spear goblins. In my panic, I settled for the first thing that came to mind: dance.

The branches began a clumsy, jerky routine that resembled nothing so much as a kindergartner's first attempt at puppet theatre. They twirled awkwardly, bobbed up and down, and occasionally collided with each other in what might generously be called choreography.

The absurdity worked better than any coordinated attack could have. The goblins froze mid-action, turning to stare at the unexpected spectacle. Their beady yellow eyes widened in confusion—then, to my complete surprise, several broke into high-pitched giggles.

The blue-skinned woman looked equally bewildered, her fierce expression momentarily replaced by complete bafflement as she glanced between the dancing sticks and me, standing at the edge of the clearing with my hands outstretched in concentration. The bioluminescent patterns beneath her skin pulsed with what might have been surprise.

With the goblins distracted, I needed to press my advantage. I spotted a fallen log near the edge of the clearing and decided it might make a decent elevated position from which to launch... well, whatever attack I could manage with my limited arsenal.

I crept toward the log, trying to be as silent as possible. My Never Gets Lost (Indoors) ability was predictably useless here in this very outdoor situation. My Pheromone Control was equally worthless—unless goblins found the scent of nervous human sweat particularly appetising.

The log wobbled slightly when I tested it with my foot—perfect! Just the sort of scenario where my Perfect Balance selection might actually prove useful. I leapt onto it with unexpected grace, landing squarely on the uneven surface without a hint of instability.

"Hey, uglies!" I called, immediately regretting my uncreative taunt as all six goblin heads swivelled toward me.

Their momentary confusion gave the woman a chance to catch her breath. She straightened; violet eyes narrowed as she assessed this new variable in her survival calculation.

One of the goblins, apparently the boldest of the bunch, charged toward my perch with a crude spear raised. Panic seized me—I had no plan for what came after "stand on log and yell." Acting purely on instinct, I attempted to leap backward, forgetting I was balanced on a narrow log.

My Perfect Balance selection activated automatically as I shifted my weight, causing my foot to shoot out reflexively to maintain equilibrium—directly into the face of a second goblin that had circled around behind me.

There was a satisfying crunch followed by a high-pitched wail as the goblin went tumbling backward, clutching its now-flattened nose. Green blood leaked between its fingers as it writhed on the ground. My Stain Resistance ability immediately kicked in, preventing any goblin blood from marring my shoes.

The first goblin hesitated, clearly reconsidering its charge as it watched its companion suffer. The dancing branches continued their bizarre performance, still holding the attention of two more goblins who seemed utterly mesmerised by their clumsy movements.

"Okay," I muttered. "Not exactly going according to plan, but at least—"

My internal pep talk was cut short as one of the remaining goblins made a sudden dash toward the woman. With surprising speed, it darted past her defences and grabbed her arm, causing her to drop her makeshift spear with a cry of pain.

"Hey!" I shouted, leaping from the log with more courage than sense. As I landed (perfectly balanced, of course), I fumbled for my smartphone. If dancing sticks could distract them, maybe technology could do even better.

I activated the flashlight function just as I reached the goblin grappling with the woman. The sudden beam of intense light hit the creature directly in its oversized eyes, eliciting a shriek of pain and surprise. It released the woman immediately, backpedalling while pawing at its eyes.

"Get back!" I yelled to the woman, who was looking at my light-emitting device with almost as much shock as she'd shown toward the dancing branches.

The other goblins were regrouping, clearly reassessing the threat level of this strange human with light-producing objects and animated sticks. I needed something more dramatic to scatter them completely.

That's when I remembered another app on my phone—one I'd downloaded for a prank months ago and forgotten about. With trembling fingers, I pulled it up and pressed the button.

An electronic airhorn blasted through the clearing, magnified by the phone's supernaturally enhanced divine connection. The sound echoed off the trees, creating a cacophony that sent birds screeching into the sky and small creatures darting for cover. My Magic Dampening ability inadvertently reduced the volume slightly in my immediate vicinity—a small mercy for my own eardrums.

The effect on the goblins was immediate and spectacular. They shrieked in terror, colliding with each other in their haste to escape the unholy noise. Five of the six creatures scattered into the underbrush, leaving only one—the largest and ugliest—standing its ground, though its ears were flattened against its head in obvious pain.

"It's just you and me now, green-face," I said, trying to sound more confident than I felt. My Deep Voice of Desire activated automatically, making my challenge sound unexpectedly sultry. Not exactly the intimidating tone I'd been going for.

The goblin snarled, revealing rows of yellowed, pointed teeth. It had apparently decided that whatever I was, I needed to die before it would feel safe again. With a guttural roar, it charged—not at me, but at the woman, who was still recovering her balance after being grabbed.

"Look out!" I shouted, but there was no way I could reach her in time.

Desperate, I spotted a muddy puddle near my feet—probably left from some recent rainfall. Without thinking, I dove into it face-first, disappearing beneath the murky surface.

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The goblin hesitated, confused by my apparent suicide. That confusion was exactly what I needed. Activating my Extended Breath Holding selection, I remained submerged, counting on the mud to conceal me completely.

I could hear muffled sounds of the goblin grunting above me. It must have approached the puddle to investigate, exactly as I'd hoped. With my lungs comfortably holding three times the normal amount of air, I waited until I sensed the creature directly above me.

Then I exploded from the puddle like a mud monster from a swamp, spraying filthy water in all directions. The surprise alone might have been enough, but I'd timed it perfectly so that a substantial amount of mud and water went directly into the goblin's open mouth and eyes.

The creature reeled backward, spitting and clawing at its face. This final indignity was apparently too much for its goblin pride. With a strangled sound somewhere between a curse and a sob, it turned and fled after its companions, leaving behind only trampled grass and a few crude weapons.

I stood there, dripping mud and breathing hard, feeling equal parts ridiculous and triumphant. Thanks to my Stain Resistance, the mud was already sliding off me like water off a duck's back, leaving my clothes remarkably clean considering I'd just taken a mud bath.

The woman was staring at me with an expression I couldn't quite read—somewhere between astonishment, relief, and suspicion. Her bioluminescent patterns had intensified, creating swirling designs across her visible skin.

"Are you okay?" I asked, wiping the last specks of mud from my face. My Temperature Assessment ability registered her body heat was slightly elevated—likely from exertion and stress.

Instead of answering, she stared at my smartphone, which was miraculously clean and dry despite my mud bath, thanks to my Stain Resistance selection applying to everything I carried.

"Um," I said, awkwardly pocketing the device. "I should probably explain—"

But there was no time for explanations. My Roommate Awareness selection suddenly pinged—someone or something was at the edge of its range.

Wait, Roommate Awareness? That was supposed to tell me if someone was in the same room as me. But I was in a forest clearing—there weren't any rooms. Did that mean the goblins might be regrouping nearby? Or was the selection just malfunctioning?

Surely it couldn't mean I was going to end up living with goblins... could it? No, that would be absurd even by the standards of this ridiculous situation. More likely it was picking up the woman, or maybe some other creature lurking nearby.

My Grudge Sense began tingling faintly—apparently at least one of those goblins was holding a grudge against me. Considering I'd basically humiliated their entire hunting party; I couldn't exactly blame them.

"We need to go," I said urgently, grabbing her hand. "Something's nearby. They might be coming back."

She seemed to understand my meaning, if not my words, because she nodded sharply. Still holding her hand, I began pulling her away from the clearing, back toward the direction I'd come from. The pool clearing had seemed safe enough, and I could at least wash this mud off—though my Stain Resistance was doing a remarkable job of that already.

We hadn't gone more than a dozen steps when my foot caught on an exposed root—the same kind I'd been so carefully avoiding on my way in. My Perfect Balance selection, apparently deciding it had done enough work for one day, failed to activate. I went down hard, still clutching the woman's hand, pulling her with me.

We tumbled together in a chaotic tangle of limbs. By some cosmic twist of fate that could only happen in the most contrived fiction, our momentum caused us to roll slightly, resulting in me landing squarely on top of her in what could only be described as a compromising position.

And then, because the universe apparently hadn't embarrassed me enough, our lips met in an accidental but undeniable kiss.

My Perfect Kiss ability activated instantly without my conscious command, transforming what should have been an awkward collision of faces into something... unexpectedly pleasant. My Perfect Touch selection followed suit, automatically adjusting the pressure of my body against hers to avoid crushing her while maintaining a bizarrely appropriate level of contact.

Time seemed to freeze as my brain caught up with what was happening. I was lying atop an otherworldly beautiful woman with blue-grey skin, kissing her after having rescued her from goblins using dancing sticks, a flashlight app, and a mud puddle.

This close, I could appreciate the full magnificence of her exotic beauty. Her skin wasn't simply blue-grey but featured subtle variations in tone that created a stunning marble-like effect. The bioluminescent patterns I'd glimpsed earlier were even more intricate up close—delicate whorls and elegant lines that pulsed faintly with her quickened heartbeat.

Her eyes, wide with surprise, were mesmerising—dark sclera setting off irises of such intense violet they seemed to contain tiny galaxies, shifting subtly with emotion. Long silver lashes framed these remarkable eyes, currently widened in shock at our sudden proximity.

Her silver hair, still secured in two practical ponytails despite our tumble, splayed partly beneath her. Where the sunlight filtering through the trees touched it, platinum highlights gleamed like metallic threads woven among sterling silver. The effect created an ethereal frame around her face, enhancing her already striking features. My Untangleable ability seemed to recognise a kindred spirit—here was hair that would never know the indignity of knots, even when styled for utility rather than show.

And the torn tunic had shifted during our fall to reveal even more of that impossibly intricate silver-threaded black lace bra. Up close, I could see that the silver threading formed what appeared to be magical runes or script—not just decorative patterns but what might be actual language or spells woven into the fabric itself. The craftsmanship was extraordinary, the material simultaneously delicate and resilient.

Most surprisingly, I noticed that where her skin was exposed, the bioluminescent patterns seemed to intensify slightly around the edges of the lace, as if responding to its touch against her skin. The effect created an almost hypnotic visual harmony between her natural markings and the magical garment.

Her figure, pressed against mine in our awkward tumble, was generously curved yet athletic—the combination creating a physical presence that somehow managed to suggest both strength and sensuality. Her impressive chest, which had already made quite the first impression on me, was even more noticeable at this proximity, yet carried with a natural poise that suggested she was accustomed to the attention it garnered.

I jerked backward, breaking the kiss and scrambling off her with as much dignity as I could manage—which is to say none whatsoever, despite my Selective Flexibility helping me disentangle myself from our awkward position.

"I am so sorry!" I gasped, my face burning hot enough to evaporate any remaining mud on my cheeks. "That was completely accidental! I tripped, and then we fell, and then... oh gods, I'm making it worse, aren't I?"

My Physical Enhancement ability chose this extremely inappropriate moment to activate, presumably responding to the stimulation of the accidental kiss. I quickly shifted my position to hide any visible evidence of this unwelcome physical response.

The woman sat up slowly, adjusting her torn tunic with a deliberate motion that somehow managed to both cover and accentuate her remarkable figure. For a tense moment, her expression remained unreadable—then, to my absolute astonishment, the corner of her mouth quirked upward in what might have been amusement. The bioluminescent patterns across her skin shifted to a warmer, gentler pulsing rhythm.

She said something in her melodious language, then seemed to realise I couldn't understand her. After studying my face for a moment, she gestured at herself.

"Rurielle," she said clearly, tapping her chest.

"Rurielle," I repeated, relieved we were moving past the accidental kiss. "I'm Andie. Andie Ryuu."

"An-die," she repeated, the name sounding exotic in her accent.

She rose to her feet with fluid grace that made my own movements seem clumsy by comparison. As she brushed herself off, I couldn't help but notice that she seemed less concerned about the revealing tears in her tunic than I was. In fact, she arranged the fabric in a way that strategically displayed just enough of the lace underneath to be noticeable without being entirely indecent.

"Well... that was unconventional," she said suddenly in perfect Japanese, her voice rich and melodious with an otherworldly cadence that sent a pleasant shiver down my spine.

I gaped at her, completely blindsided. "You... you speak my language? How is that even possible?"

Rurielle tilted her head slightly, causing one silver ponytail to fall forward over her shoulder, platinum highlights catching the light. "I speak many languages. It takes a moment to... attune to a new one." She gestured vaguely at her horizontally pointed ear. "My hearing is quite sensitive. I can analyse speech patterns quickly."

She looked me up and down, her violet eyes lingering on my now-surprisingly-clean form with undisguised curiosity. Then her gaze shifted to my movements as I attempted to compose myself, studying the economy of my motions with particular intensity.

"Your tactics against the grek'tal were... unusual. Dancing branches? Light magic from a small box? Hiding in mud?" She shook her head slightly, causing her silver ponytails to sway gently, the platinum highlights shimmering. "I have never seen such methods."

Her eyes narrowed as she examined me more carefully, noting my pale skin and the way I moved. "You are Takejin, are you not? Though you are paler than most I have encountered. And..." She glanced at my hip with a puzzled expression. "Where is your curved blade? The single-edged sword you warriors typically carry?"

"Curved blade?" I echoed, confused. My only "weapon" was the 50 metres of divinely-granted rope tied at my waist—hardly the fearsome armament of a warrior culture.

"The weapon that marks all Takejin warriors—elegant, slightly curved with a single edge, carried at the waist," she clarified, making a gesture mimicking a sword being drawn from a hip sheath. "Your movements suggest training with such a weapon, yet you carry none."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," I said honestly. "I'm not from around here."

Her eyes narrowed slightly. "Your skin is indeed unusually light for a Takejin. Perhaps from a northern family line? Or..." Her voice dropped lower, taking on a conspiratorial tone. "Perhaps you were exiled for dabbling in forbidden magics? That light-box of yours—clearly magical. The Takejin elders would not approve."

"I'm not a Takejin," I insisted. "I'm from a completely different world. I was summoned here yesterday."

Rurielle's expression shifted to polite scepticism. "Of course. And I am the Summer Queen of the Aurelveth."

My eyes widened in horror, and I immediately dropped to one knee, bowing my head. "Your Majesty! I had no idea—please forgive my disrespect! I didn't—"

I was interrupted by the sound of laughter—rich, melodious, and clearly at my expense. Looking up, I saw Rurielle doubled over, her shoulders shaking with mirth. The bioluminescent patterns across her skin pulsed with her amusement, creating an ethereal light show that danced across her blue-grey skin.

"You—" She gasped between fits of giggles. "You actually believed—" Another peal of laughter cut her off. "I am not Aurelveth! I am Luxuriveth!" She wiped a tear from her eye, still chuckling. "The Aurelveth would never allow one of my kind near their precious light-loving kingdom, let alone rule it."

I stood up, my face burning with embarrassment. My Temperature Play ability activated unbidden, cooling my flushed cheeks slightly. "How was I supposed to know? I've been in this world for less than a day!"

"Your reaction alone proves you cannot be a true Takejin," she said, finally regaining her composure. "No disciplined warrior of their order would show such... enthusiastic deference to an Aurelveth. They are too proud." She studied me with fresh interest. "Yet your movements, your balance... these resemble Takejin techniques. Perhaps you were merely trained by them? Or learned to mimic their style?"

"I told you, I'm not from this world," I repeated.

She waved a dismissive hand. "A strange tale to hide behind. Though I suppose if you were exiled for forbidden magic, you would need a convincing story." Her eyes flicked to my smartphone, still visible in my pocket. "Where did you acquire such unusual magical artefacts? They seem unlike any enchantment I have encountered."

I opened my mouth to argue further, then closed it again. What was the point? If she'd rather believe I was some exiled warrior from a tribe I'd never heard of than accept I was from another world entirely, maybe that was better for now. At least until I figured out what was going on.

"Fine," I sighed, my Familiar Place Daydreaming briefly activating to give me a vivid flash of my apartment back home. The pang of homesickness was as surprising as it was sharp. "Now can we please get somewhere safer? Those goblins might come back."

She nodded, her expression growing more serious. "You are right. There is a secure location not far from here. I can lead you there—in exchange for information."

"Information about what?"

"About how a Takejin came to possess such unusual magical devices," she replied, her eyes glinting with curiosity. "And perhaps why you travel without your blade, so far from your people's territory."

As we began walking through the forest, heading in what I hoped was a safer direction than the goblin-infested clearing, I mentally took inventory of my situation. In less than twenty-four hours, I'd been forcibly transported to another world, granted a ridiculous collection of abilities (most of which seemed designed for bedroom activities rather than survival), participated in some kind of moonlit ritual with mysterious dancers whose names I didn't even know, and now had accidentally kissed a blue-skinned Luxuriveth woman while saving her from goblins using animated sticks and phone apps.

And to top it all off, she was convinced I was some kind of exiled warrior monk with forbidden magic, and nothing I said was likely to change her mind.

If my life were actually a light novel—which it absolutely isn't, despite all evidence to the contrary—this would be the point where the reader would accuse the author of cramming too many tropes into a single volume. What's next? A tsundere princess falling from the sky? A childhood friend showing up with amnesia and cat ears?

"So," I said as we navigated through the underbrush, my Lone Wolf skill providing an unexpected boost to my awareness of our surroundings, "do all Luxuriveth wear enchanted lace lingerie when travelling through goblin-infested forests, or is that just your personal style choice?"

Rurielle stopped dead in her tracks, fixing me with a look that combined shock, indignation, and—most surprisingly—genuine amusement. The bioluminescent patterns beneath her skin flared briefly before settling into a rhythmic pulsing that somehow suggested laughter.

"Definitely not a proper Takejin," she muttered, shaking her head, her silver ponytails swaying with the motion. "They would never speak so directly about a woman's attire." Then, louder: "My undergarments are shadow-woven protection inscribed with warding runes—standard for any Luxuriveth travelling outside protected territories. The aesthetic qualities are... secondary benefits."

I nodded, trying desperately to keep my eyes from drifting to where the torn fabric revealed her impressive enchanted undergarment. The warding runes must be particularly powerful to support that kind of engineering challenge.

"Of course," I replied seriously. "Warding runes. Obviously. How silly of me not to recognise tactical lingerie when I see it."

Her lips twitched in what might have been suppressed laughter. "You are either the strangest Takejin I have ever encountered or..."

"Or I'm telling the truth about being from another world?" I suggested hopefully.

She just shook her head and continued walking. "Come, 'warrior from another world.' Let us find shelter before the grek'tal return—or before you accidentally kiss me again with your impressive 'balance skills.'"

I groaned and followed after her, my Accoucheur ability randomly informing me she wasn't pregnant (information I neither needed nor wanted), while my Lubricating Touch thankfully remained dormant. I wondered if every day in this new world was going to be this ridiculous, or if I'd just been lucky enough to have my Weak Prescription Lenses front-row seat to the cosmic joke that was apparently my new life.

"One thing's for sure," I muttered to myself as I trudged after the silver-haired Luxuriveth, "if I ever meet those twelve deities again, I'm demanding a refund on these skills. Perfect Kiss is great and all, but I think I'd trade it for literally anything called 'Goblin Slayer' right about now."