Chapter 119

Chapter 119

Ishmir, the Desert Giant

The woman, frowning at the blowing sandy wind, stared steadily at the “lump of scrap metal.”

That “machine,” shaped like a beast, leaking oil while making a droning sound, was glaring not at her nearby, but at the carriage procession passing far behind her.

The woman leisurely took a drag from the cigarette in her mouth, and soon thick smoke poured from her lips.

“Whew... beast-type, is it.”

The lump of scrap metal before her eyes, the otherworld species, came in various kinds.

Otherworld species were broadly classified into two types: beast-type and humanoid.

Although beast-types had many different forms, a skilled warrior could handle one alone.

On the other hand, humanoids were difficult enough that several such warriors had to work together to deal with one.

Either way, to this woman, who was smoking in front of a terrifying otherworld species with oil dripping from its mouth, it might not matter much.

Ishmir.

Once called Ishmir of Greed, she had once belonged to a famous mercenary corps on the continent.

But now that nearly ten years had passed since Ishmir settled in Delgrad, her homeland, she had gained another epithet.

The Desert Giant.

She possessed an ordinary physique, one difficult to call giant, but there was a reason for this.

Ishmir flicked away the cigarette, now burned short, and gripped the huge greatsword on her back.

Just then, the otherworld species kicked off the ground and began running.

Ishmir’s body vanished for an instant.

Paying no attention to this, the otherworld species charged straight toward the carriage, and a shadow formed over its head.

—Boom!!!

With a thunderous roar, Ishmir’s greatsword drove down into the otherworld species’ head.

The blade of the greatsword was so dull it was nearly blunt, and should not have been able to split the otherworld species’ hard outer shell.

It certainly should have been so.

—Graaaash!!!!!

Due to Ishmir’s monstrous strength that surpassed common sense, the otherworld species’ head was smashed into the sand and ground away in a single instant.

Ishmir was not currently reinforcing her body with mana. To begin with, she did not even know how to reinforce her body with mana.

When she was young, still part of the mercenary corps, those skilled at handling mana had once given up on teaching her.

After trying several times and failing even to move mana, Ishmir grew irritated, beat up the mercenary who had been teaching her, and ran away.

Ishmir was quite ignorant.

Caught by the scruff of her neck by the captain immediately afterward, Ishmir snorted that she could beat them all without learning that crap. That night, Ishmir arm-wrestled the entire mercenary corps.

The result was 42 matches, 42 victories.

Even though all 42 members of the mercenary corps were people of continental renown, they could not overcome the arm strength of a fresh teenage girl named Ishmir.

Even though they had reinforced their bodies with mana, no less.

Called the Desert Giant because she possessed the strength of a giant.

Ishmir could truly be described as a human being who was strong in and of herself.

However, close friends with deep ties to her did not call her by such a splendid epithet.

[ Still an ignorant bitch, I see... ]

Sierra, watching Ishmir’s battle from the carriage, clicked her tongue and murmured softly.

The epithet her friends liked to call her by was Ishmir “All Strength.”

For reference, it was also a nickname only those who could call her that and survive were allowed to use.

Soon, Ishmir, having stabbed her greatsword deep into the ground, examined the horribly crushed head of the otherworld species, now so mangled it was hard to recognize its form, and felt doubt.

“It ignored me and headed toward the carriage...”

It was strange.

Beast-type otherworld species were rough and violent, without a shred of composure. Their simple behavior pattern was to chase and bite the person before their eyes, the person closest to them.

Yet the otherworld species just now had felt as if it had completely ignored Ishmir.

“Hm...”

Ishmir crouched, touched her chin, and pondered. Before long, she reached a “certainty” and rose.

“...I must have been too fast.”

After scratching her eyepatch and ending her brief thought, she grinned. Then she turned her head and looked at the carriage procession crossing the desert.

Earlier, when she stepped on the carriage and passed over it, Ishmir had heard Lucia’s voice.

She had deep ties to the Windless family.

Lucia’s mother and the lord of Delgrad, Sicily Windless, could even be considered Ishmir’s employer.

With a pleased smile at the thought of meeting Lucia after so long, Ishmir began running toward the carriage.

Her terrifying strength did not apply only to her arms. The power of her legs was also beyond human standards.

Without any equipment, sprinting with her bare body, Ishmir caught up to the carriage’s speed, grabbed onto it, climbed aboard, and opened the door.

—Clack.

Immediately, she stuck her head inside the carriage, smiled brightly, and opened her mouth.

“Lucia~!”

“...Who are you?”

At the voice of an unknown student filled with doubt, Ishmir opened her eyes and looked carefully inside the carriage.

Lucia’s bluish hair was nowhere to be seen.

“...This is not the carriage.”

Soon, she said, “Sorry~,” brazenly, then leapt down from the carriage, which had been running at high speed.

Ishmir landed without issue, ran to the next carriage, and checked the inside of the carriage again.

However, this time, instead of opening the door, she looked inside through the window.

This time, it seemed she had found the right one, because bluish hair could be seen inside the carriage.

Soon, Lucia discovered Ishmir’s sinister smile reflected suddenly in the window, opened her eyes wide, and grew frightened preemptively.

“E-eek...! Miss Ishmir...?!”

The others inside the carriage were just as startled. Among them, Sierra discovered the eyepatch covering Ishmir’s left eye and felt great doubt.

[ Wh-where did this bitch lose one of her eyeballs...? ]

It was understandable, because the Ishmir Sierra had met while alive had been a cheeky brat with both eyes intact.

What could have happened over several decades for her to lose one eye?

Soon, Ishmir flung the door open and entered the carriage. Her gaze fixed on Lucia, she began striding toward her.

Wearing a wicked smile, Ishmir opened her mouth.

“Lucia, long time no see.”

“Hrr... hrrr...”

Ishmir had not yet done anything, but perhaps Lucia had already sensed what would happen, because she curled up in the corner of the carriage and grew tearful.

Perhaps pleased by Lucia’s reaction, Ishmir’s lips rose even higher, and she spread both hands in the air as she spoke.

“I wonder how much our Lucia has grown since I last saw you. Let me touch your tits.”

***

Inside the carriage crossing the desert, a strange current was flowing.

It was entirely because of one woman with brown hair, sun-browned skin, and a black eyepatch over her left eye.

“I am Ishmir. I will help you with life in the desert... yes, think of me as something like a teacher.”

Ishmir said this while sitting in one corner of the carriage and flicking her finger. At Ishmir’s words, everyone inside the carriage quietly nodded.

The seat she occupied had originally been Lucia’s.

How spacious could a carriage be, after all?

There was not enough space for Ishmir to enter as well.

Amon’s large build was also one reason the carriage felt cramped.

Then where had Lucia gone?

Lucia, her face crimson, was sitting obediently on Ishmir’s lap with her head lowered deeply.

At Ishmir’s sudden outrageous statement after entering the carriage, saying she would touch Lucia’s breasts, Amon had no choice but to turn his head.

...Zeto also tried to turn his head, but fearing it might look strange, he could not, and tried not to take it into his sight as much as possible.

The moan Lucia let out without resistance afterward reddened everyone’s ears.

Sierra shook her head, saying that did not change no matter how old that woman got.

She remembered being subjected to it often too.

Ishmir liked women’s breasts, especially large ones.

This also tied into why she used a greatsword.

It was entirely because of Ishmir’s taste for anything “big and heavy.”

Feeling that Lucia’s breasts were still lacking and had no hand-feel, Ishmir glanced at Zeto.

He was an exceedingly handsome man distinguished by the snow-white bandages around his eyes.

“Ah, he is that...”

There was apparently a blind man at the academy who was skilled with a sword.

She remembered hearing about it when she spoke with Sicily, who had attended open class.

The man had ink-colored hair.

“Did he come from the East?”

Ishmir thought of one woman from the East whom she knew.

Her breasts had been very satisfying to touch, so it was truly unfortunate that she could no longer touch them.

Watching this, Sierra mistakenly thought Ishmir’s “sticky gaze” was directed toward Zeto and grew wary of her.

[ Disciple, I know that woman well, but... she is close to a madwoman, so it seems best not to get involved with her as much as possible. ]

Zeto accepted this in stride.

Sierra’s words were not exactly wrong either.

Ishmir, the Desert Giant.

Zeto thought her self-indulgent personality, which he had seen in the game, seemed unchanged. He remembered that she had been on par with Edward in that regard.

However, Zeto was wondering why they had already encountered Ishmir before even arriving in the city.

While such questions passed through Zeto’s head, Eisel and Yuri were furtively glancing at Ishmir’s voluptuous breasts.

Because of Ishmir’s breasts, which displayed an overwhelming majesty, the two of them had to swallow a strangely bitter sense of defeat.

Meanwhile, Amon, sitting beside Ishmir, was also glancing at her.

However, his gaze was not directed at her chest, but at the muscles plainly visible due to Ishmir’s revealing clothes.

“What kind of exercise would make...”

Though Amon was a mage, he resembled his father, Maxim Caligus, in that he had great interest in a strong body.

“Heh heh...”

While Ishmir was lewdly laughing and toying with Lucia’s bouncing breasts, Amon decided to ask her a question.

Amon gulped and carefully spoke.

“Excuse me, Ishmir... I was wondering what it would be best to call you...”

“Mm? Call me teacher, comfortably.”

Ishmir turned her head and looked at Amon as she said that.

“Teacher Ishmir, I would like to know what training you usually do...”

At Amon’s question, Ishmir frowned.

“Training? Why would I do something like that?”

“Pardon...?! Then those muscles...”

“They have been like this since I was little.”

“Ah...”

Having failed to obtain any meaningful answer, Amon scratched his head as if he could not believe it.

Ishmir did not do body maintenance or anything of the sort.

Despite repeating a dissipated routine of drinking heavily and smoking constantly, her muscles only grew firmer by the day, and even her skin maintained its bounce.

Zeto, who knew this well, thought she might truly have a body granted by the gods.

As each of them thought about Ishmir, who had appeared so suddenly...

Lucia, who had been covering her mouth and looking out the window in longing, suddenly rose from her seat.

In her mind, this was the most natural timing to escape Ishmir.

Soon, pointing out the window, Lucia shouted brightly.

“I can see Delgrad...!”