Chapter 34

Chapter 34

What the Hell Is That?

“Ughhh...”

I opened my eyes with a groan as a horrific headache pounded through my skull like someone was ringing a bell inside my head.

My mouth was bone-dry, and my stomach churned as though I might vomit at any moment.

I didn't dare get up.

Even the slightest movement felt like it would make everything in my stomach come straight back out, so I spent quite a while lying in bed and groaning.

Eventually my stomach settled just enough for me to barely raise my upper body.

“Ughh... I'm seriously dying.”

The reason I was in this miserable state was simple.

I'd gotten caught by Kiara, the alcoholic Saintess of the Diana Order, and forced into drinking with her.

The problem was that I remembered starting to drink, but after a certain point, I remembered absolutely nothing.

In other words, I'd blacked out.

...I was worried about what the hell might've happened, but decided not to think too hard about it.

Trying to reconstruct the previous night's events after drinking until you black out is generally not a good idea.

Because if you pull aside the curtain and stare into the past, the only thing waiting there is cringe-inducing history you'd rather forget.

‘Still, I'm not the type to get rowdy when I drink, so there's no way I did anything stupid—’

And at that exact moment, memories that definitely existed suddenly flooded my head.

The drinking session.

At first, I'd hated the idea and desperately searched for a way to escape.

The liquor had tasted good, but it was far too strong.

After about two cups, though, the alcohol gradually hit me.

Before I knew it, I was laughing and chatting with Kiara while exchanging drinks.

Then Clarice woke up.

She said she'd finally come of age and wanted to try alcohol for the first time, so she'd asked us for a drink.

Giving someone trying alcohol for the first time the absurdly strong liquor Kiara drank would've been insane.

So I asked Kiara for something sweet and fruity for Clarice.

The three of us talked and laughed together.

(I don't remember a single thing we talked about.)

And after that...

Nothing.

Judging by the room, I was still somewhere inside Septimoa's citadel.

But I had no idea how we'd gotten here.

And this didn't look like my assigned room either.

Well, obviously it wasn't my actual room back at the Eris Order, since we were in Septimoa.

But the style looked nothing like the Western Palace, where I usually stayed during Councils.

“Ughhh...”

“Hm?”

While I was wondering where exactly I was, I heard rustling on the huge bed and a low groan beside me.

My hangover had left me so disoriented that I hadn't even noticed someone else was in the same bed.

I reflexively turned my head.

Someone was squirming beneath the blanket, covered all the way to the top of their head.

I pulled it away.

Clarice.

...Completely naked.

Not a single thread on her body.

“?!...!!?”

I nearly screamed, but somehow managed to hold it back.

I immediately wrapped Clarice up tightly in the blanket like a burrito.

She groaned uncomfortably, but I heard none of it.

You get blackout drunk, then wake up in bed next to a naked woman?

My brain went completely white.

I couldn't think.

Worse, now that I looked down...

I was completely naked too.

“...No way. Right?”

This looked exactly like the classic morning-after scene after a drunk man and woman made a terrible mistake.

Well, we were both women, not a man and woman.

Still.

Nothing like what I'm imagining happened, right?

Because if it did, this wasn't just an accident.

It was a catastrophic incident.

A chill powerful enough to make me forget my hangover swept through my body.

Then, with a creak, the bathroom door opened.

“Oh? Awake already? I expected you to sleep until at least lunchtime.”

I turned and saw Kiara walking out of the bathroom surrounded by steam.

She'd apparently just finished washing.

She wore only a light robe and was shaking moisture from her damp hair.

Hearing her speak normally instead of slurring for once felt strangely fresh...

No.

That's not important.

Why the hell are you coming out of that bathroom?

“W-Why are you coming out of the bathroom?”

Kiara saw me stammering in panic and raised one corner of her mouth in an irritating smile.

“That question seems rather strange. Is there a problem with me being in my own room?”

“This is... your room?”

So that's why the bed was absurdly huge.

Apparently this was Kiara's room.

Good.

At least I'd figured out where I was.

There was still one major problem left.

“Then why the hell did we wake up naked in your bed?”

And naked?

I couldn't bring myself to say the last part aloud and swallowed dryly.

“Ah, you don't remember? You and Clarice said we should come back to my room and continue drinking. I was quite delighted.”

“We said that?”

I remembered nothing, so I couldn't exactly deny it.

And drunk people saying, ‘Let's keep drinking,’ was hardly unusual behavior.

God.

Alcohol really is the enemy.

“You and Clarice were both quite impressive last night.”

“...Impressive how?”

“Hmm~? Wouldn't explaining it ruin the fun?”

Kiara walked closer with a strangely wicked smile, grabbed the bottle from the bedside table, and began pouring it directly into her mouth.

...Crazy bitch.

After drinking that much yesterday, she's starting the morning with more alcohol?

Is she genuinely insane?

No.

More importantly...

“Tell me exactly what happened in this room last night.”

That was what mattered.

This world was inhabited by all kinds of races besides humans.

Humans chased all sorts of different desires depending on the individual.

Other races, however, tended to have very distinct values shared by their species.

Dragonkin lived to uphold their personal sense of justice.

Elves valued living alongside nature and protecting the weak.

Dwarves were obsessed with crafting and invention.

Oni lived for battle and honor.

Beastkin were supposedly willing to sacrifice even their lives for family and tribe.

And dokkaebi lived for pleasure and reproduction.

...Yes.

Pleasure and reproduction.

The important part was that of all the races we could've gotten drunk with, it had to be a dokkaebi.

I'd also heard those bastards enthusiastically pursued reproduction regardless of sex.

How exactly that worked wasn't important right now.

The important part was apparently that it did.

Since I'd blacked out, I absolutely needed to know what happened.

“Hehehe.”

Please don't laugh like that.

You're giving me chills.

“...You didn't, right?”

“Didn't what?”

Kiara's eyes looked suspiciously glossy as she shamelessly pretended not to understand.

“You didn't... do anything weird to us, did you?”

“Ah, are you asking whether I engaged in reproductive activity with the two of you?”

“S-Shut up! Ugh, my head...”

I shouted at how bluntly she said it, then immediately clutched my head as the splitting headache punished me.

“Hehe. I have no interest in touching someone too drunk to think properly. You two were so wasted that I simply washed you and put you to sleep in my room. I would've changed your clothes too, but unfortunately I didn't have anything that fit either of you.”

“...Am I supposed to thank you for that?”

It was nice that she'd looked after us while we were drunk.

But she was also the crazy dokkaebi bitch who got us drunk in the first place.

Offering the cure after causing the problem didn't make me feel especially grateful.

“No need to thank me.”

“Right. Honestly, I'm not grateful at all.”

I grumbled and started getting up.

“Ugh...”

I let my guard down for one second and nearly vomited on the spot.

This genuinely might've been the worst hangover of both my previous and current lives combined.

I tried circulating divine power through my body to clear the alcohol, but...

“Ah, by the way, a hangover caused by alcohol drunk from the Holy Grail cannot be cured by anything. Not even divine power.”

“Then what am I supposed to do?”

“Wait for it to disappear naturally.”

“Why the hell does it have such a sadistic penalty?”

“If one drinks, one should endure the hangover that follows. Washing away that noble pain with divine power would be an insult to alcohol itself. It would be terribly disrespectful, wouldn't it?”

“Haa...”

I wanted to curse, but didn't have enough energy.

All I managed was a sigh.

“If you wish, I can teach you an excellent solution.”

“What?”

“Drink more alcohol so you can no longer feel the hangover. A hangover only comes after one stops drinking, does it not? If you simply continue drinking, the hangover never arrives.”

“Fuck off, you crazy bitch!”

I finally couldn't hold back the curse.

Anyway, judging by my condition, I was probably going to spend the entire day lying in bed groaning.

First, I needed to escape to my own room.

If I stayed here, Kiara would probably catch me and force some insane ‘hair of the dog’ treatment on me.

Ah.

But first, I should take Clarice back.

If she hadn't returned by night, the Justitia Order had probably gone into an uproar.

By now they'd likely learned we'd been captured by Kiara and forced into drinking, so maybe they weren't too worried...

No.

Wouldn't that make them even more worried?

Either way, I should get her back quickly.

“...Clarice, wake up.”

I gathered up the clothes I'd thrown off the night before, put them on, then shook Clarice awake.

“Mmmmm... Big Sis, my head feels like it's going to split open...”

“...Mine too. Let's go back to our rooms and rest. Staying here is dangerous.”

Kiara complained, ‘Dangerous? What a hurtful thing to say.’

I ignored her.

After helping Clarice get dressed, I carried the still-dazed girl on my back to the Justitia Order's residence.

Then I headed toward the Western Palace, where the Eris Order was staying.

...I'd already been in Septimoa for two days and still hadn't set foot inside my assigned room.

On the first day, I'd collapsed in the healing room.

On the second, I'd drunk myself unconscious and collapsed in Kiara's room.

Holding my splitting head, stopping to cling to a pillar and breathe deeply whenever my stomach tried to revolt, and asking passing maids for directions, I somehow managed to find my room.

“...I'm exhausted.”

I looked in the mirror.

My hair was a complete mess, and my eyes were bloodshot.

I looked exactly like someone suffering from a vicious hangover.

What should I eat to recover?

Maybe ask the cook to make tomato soup with peperoncino and seafood, nice and spicy?

I'll request it once the hangover eases up a little.

If I tried eating anything right now, I'd probably swallow it only for it to immediately return through my mouth.

I spent quite a while rolling pointlessly around on the bed in a daze.

Then someone knocked.

I painfully dragged myself up and opened the door.

Cassian and Leonid stood outside.

“...Why did you two come all the way to my room? Skip asking how I feel and get straight to the point.”

“Saintess.”

“What?”

They both wore expressions as grave as if they were about to march into war.

“Would you be willing to teach me swordsmanship?”

“My head is killing me, so fuck off, you crazy bastard.”

Cassian's out-of-nowhere request made my already aching head throb even harder.

Did these two get drunk last night too?

Why are they spouting nonsense first thing in the morning?

And does Cassian not know I hate him?

He could ask Leonid or one of the other knights.

Why come ask me without a shred of self-awareness?

...Ah.

Come to think of it, there really isn't anyone else among the group suited to teaching him.

They all use completely different weapons.

And Leonid might be good at working someone to the bone, but he's terrible at teaching basic fundamentals.

“Even just the basics...”

“I hate repeating myself. Get lost.”

With that, I slammed the door shut directly in both of their faces.

“Ah... I'm dying.”

I spent the entire day suffering through the hangover.

The next day, I did some light stretching and physical conditioning.

...Cassian kept training nearby while stealing pathetic glances toward me, which was irritating.

But the training yard was large enough that I could stay far away and work alone, so I mostly ignored him.

He wasn't swinging his sword, so apparently Leonid had said something to him.

Well, repeatedly practicing those sloppy fundamentals would obviously engrain bad habits into his body.

Telling him not to swing the sword at all made sense.

Still, he's surprisingly obedient.

When I told him not to keep kneeling and to stand up, he refused to listen no matter what.

Is he discriminating between people now?

For some reason, I had a feeling that if I'd been the one who told him to stop swinging the sword, he would've stubbornly kept doing it.

Another day passed.

At last, the day of the Council arrived.

I dressed in my Saintess robes and headed toward the Council chamber with old Bartolomew.

“Big Sis Trixie!”

On the way, we encountered people from the Justitia Order.

Their group consisted of one escort knight, an Archbishop I'd never seen before, and Clarice.

Clarice spotted me, waved happily, and approached.

“Hi, Clarice. Feeling any better?”

“Ugh... Yes. I'm seriously never drinking alcohol again.”

“Yeah. Good choice.”

People suffering from hangovers always swore they'd never drink again.

Whether they actually kept that promise was another question.

“A pleasure to meet you. I am Nilheim, Archbishop of the Justitia Order.”

The elderly dragonkin standing beside her greeted me.

His black hair and fiercely glowing yellow eyes stood out.

“A pleasure. I am Beatrice, Saintess of the Eris Order.”

I lightly bowed in return.

Nilheim smiled kindly, then shifted his gaze toward old Bartolomew beside me.

“Bartolomew. Have you been well?”

“I have. I'm glad to see nothing appears wrong with you either.”

“Hoho. I spend all my time shut inside the temple. What could possibly happen to me?”

I'd never met Nilheim before, but apparently he and old Bartolomew already knew one another.

We exchanged the usual formal greetings.

Then I felt a prickling sensation against my skin and turned my head.

A knight with blond hair and blue eyes was standing behind Clarice, staring straight at me.

‘...Hm? What the hell is that?’

Why is he glaring at me like that?

I frowned back at him.

Then a certain person suddenly came to mind.

The male protagonist of the original story.

The Hero of the Justitia Order.

I'd never actually met him before, and I couldn't even remember his name, but I did remember that he had blond hair and blue eyes.

Then was that guy the original protagonist?

‘...No, probably not.’

The protagonist was a growth-type character.

The original story either hadn't started yet or was only just beginning.

There was no way he'd already be this strong.

That blond knight looked significantly stronger than Leonid.

And from what I remembered, the protagonist was the classic righteous Hero.

There was no way someone like that would have such dead, rotten-fish eyes.

Those were the chilling eyes of someone who'd cut down countless demonic beasts, demons, and humans until killing no longer meant anything to him.

Our eyes met.

The blond knight lowered his gaze.

I quickly lost interest in him.

“Only the Archbishops and Saintesses may enter the Council chamber. Please also remember that weapons and divine power cannot be used inside.”

I nodded at the priest standing before the doors.

And so, old Bartolomew and I entered the chamber together with Clarice and Archbishop Nilheim.