Vol 4.5 — Fiora’s Tale Chapter 1: Lightning Dancer

"Your goal is simple. Go to the deepest level of the dungeon and retrieve the sword.

"You shall go alone with only your sword and your torch.

"If you fail, none of us will come to your rescue. Your flesh and bones shall become an offering to the dungeon itself.

"Go now, and prove yourself worthy, Fiora Guinevere Pendragon."

...Hmph, easy for you to say.

Around me were now about fifty or so giant bats, all hungry for my flesh.

And I had just begun trekking inside this dump of a place.

-------

It had been a few years since I became a disciple in the School of Galahad. Ever since that day, when I first stole this sword off those guards, my sword skills had grown considerably. To the point that they finally agreed to give me one of their famed swords.

But of course, giving me the weapon straight up would be too easy. I had to do this whole trial before I was allowed to get it.

And after that, it would be the exam for me to achieve Virtuoso Rank.

"Staccato! Full Moon!"

The moment the bats charged forward, I took them all down with a single circle slice.

Sheesh, these guys aren't even close to my level…

Ignoring the remaining bats, who clearly knew better than to join their fallen brethren on the floor, I marched on ever further into the place.

Its name was The Devil’s Hole, a dungeon that still remained from a millenia ago when demons used to rule this part of the world. It was left here purposefully to train Galahad swordsmen and women over the ages. Located far south from the village down the mountain, even getting here was somewhat of a challenge, thanks to the swamp you had to cross first. Naturally, no one went here unless they were tasked with a trial like me.

After all, like Frida said, anyone who died here became a sacrifice to the dungeon. That was the pact our school had with it.

--------

“Haaahhh…”

To cut things short, this place is more bothersome than hard. For a supposedly S-rank difficulty dungeon, the monsters here are really no match for me in the slightest. Sure, I kept finding annoying black slimes who loved dropping down from ceilings to ambush me but even with them trying to mask their presence, I could still clearly sense them without even looking. And there were those fire and ice spirits who patrolled that maze. They would go through walls to attack me from all directions, retreating the moment they realized I was going to attack. The maze was made out of some special stone I couldn’t cut through so all I could do was just to outspeed the little creatures. And then there were the living wheels thing that would ram at me at the speed of sound. They kept popping out at every corner.

And of course, there were the bosses on every floor. S-rank monsters apparently but they were just slightly harder than their subordinates.

It had been a week since I was stuck in this place. I'm tired, I want to take a bath, and I'm hungry.

Only this last boss behind this door waited for me. The strongest amongst them all.

Let's hope it'll be an actual challenge, shall we?

I pushed the double stone doors open. They opened the rest of the way automatically.

I entered the pitch-dark room, with one hand on the handle of my sword and the other holding the torch. No good. I couldn't see anything. I do know though that the room's pretty large.

"Grrrrrr…."

Oh?

A groan came from the middle of the room.

Hmm, let's see what it is, shall we? Don't really need the torch anyway.

I threw the burning stick to where the groan came from.

And saw that it belonged to a person.

Or rather, what used to be one.

“Graahhhhhhh!”

A woman, with tattered robes and rotting flesh, was standing there glaring at my direction. She held a sword in one hand—the same type of thin sword that I used. Her eyes glowed red and dark liquid was dripping out of her mouth.

A zombie.

If an adventurer were to fall inside a dungeon, sometimes the dungeon’s demonic mana would revive said adventurer as a zombie to attack the next adventurer that dared to brave its halls. Now, normally, the zombie would be a lot weaker than the actual adventurer but sometimes a so-called “perfect” zombification happened, where the zombie retained all the strength it possessed when it was alive.

And, if I had to guess, this woman was one of such “perfect” specimens.

She began to take a pose, the same fighting pose that I was familiar with.

This would be a mirror match, it seemed.

“Staccato: Storm!”

Our blades met in the dark, thousands of them clashing in a single second as we parried each other. Her speed was swift, proving that she was indeed a skilled swordswoman when she was still alive.

I remember this tale. There was a story about a prodigy who ventured here into this place to prove herself, on her own without permission. She never returned.

I guess this is how she ended up being — a puppet reanimated by the dungeon core.

What a waste of talent.

After exhausting our moves, we both retreated. I had a hunch that she could see me through the darkness, even though I couldn’t do the same to her.

…No. I could sense her just fine. I don’t need my eyes to win this fight. How many times have I had my blindfolded training regimens? Too many times to count.

“You’re good. So let me show you something a bit more advanced.”

I lowered my body, folding my legs slightly as I changed the grip on my sword to a backhand one.

“First Waltz. Dance of Delight.”

I stepped forward.

In a flash, I was already behind her.

Cutting through her left arm.

“Graaahhhh!”

The zombie growled as she realized its arm had detached itself from her torso. No blood came out, only a disgusting black ooze. Whatever blood it once had probably had transformed into that unholy mixture.

Feeling a really good opportunity to brag, of course I had to take it.

“What’s the matter?” I smirked. “Can’t keep up?”

The technique I just used was indeed quite advanced. In fact, it was a secret technique that was only taught to students that belonged to Frida’s house. To make things short, it was a technique that allowed one’s blade to “dance”. In fact, both the swordswoman and the blade became “the dancer”, moving in unison on the stage that was the battlefield.

The zombie, seemingly insulted by my taunt, retaliated by preparing a stance. The very same stance I just used.

“Ooh, so you can use that technique as well~ Fascinating~”

Our blades clashed again, this time causing a shockwave that shook the entire room.

"Second Waltz. Dance of Terror."

Kicking the air, I lifted my sword and swiftly performed a slicing motion, all the while leaping forward, performing a somersault mid-air, and landing on my two feet.

All in another infinitesimal second.

Her head, unprotected as it was, flew off from her torso, rolling down to the ground in an almost comical manner.

I sheathed my sword and turned back to face her. "Is that it? Is that all you got?" A zombie like her shouldn't succumb to mere decapitation after all.

The head screeched before flying back to the body, attaching itself like nothing had happened.

"Very well then. I'll finish you off now."

I bent my knees once more, holding the handle of my sword in a different grip.

"Final Waltz. Dance of Resignation."

Now this technique—this is the cream of the crop. Even performing it took quite a big chunk of my stamina.

I stepped to the left and up, forming a circle around the zombie in a clockwise manner. Every step I took was done in a millionth of a second, and in a certain "rhythm" that allowed my aura to flow in the most ideal manner.

This resulted in a series of doppelgangers, all surrounding the zombie.

"Grrrrhhhh!"

The zombie looked around in vain, trying to determine where my real body was. Useless, of course. I was everywhere at the same time.

And then, I attacked.

From every angle—from behind, front, left, right, there was no escape from my slashes.

The zombie tried to escape by jumping upwards. Not fast enough. I readily chased after her, cutting my sword through her body like butter, landing hits after hits after hits. All in that single infinitesimal moment.

She had yet to master this technique it seemed, or else she should’ve been able to defend herself from it.

When I finished, I took a deep, long breath as the walking corpse was turned into small slices of bone and meat, unable to put herself back together even if she wanted to.

And just like that, I had won.

I flicked my sword, cleaning off the gore, before sheathing it back in its place.

I gave one last look at the remains of the zombie, grabbed my torch, and went on my way.

A sword should wait for me in the next room.

—-------

Hmm, what’s this? That isn’t the sword I was promised.

Instead of finding a sword in the next room, all I found was a floating purple orb.

The room itself was lit dimly by the light coming from that orb. And it was quite the odd room to say the least, with roots going all over the ceiling, floor and walls — all heading towards the middle where the orb rested.

Oh, I know what this is. This is the dungeon core, isn’t it?

Dungeon Cores. It is the thing that makes a dungeon, well, a dungeon. It attracts or creates monsters to fill its halls, designs the traps and labyrinths, and pretty much is the most intelligent creature in the entire place. All the monsters obey it, or rather, all the monsters cannot resist its influence.

Now, if I remember correctly, I was not to destroy this thing. Gotta preserve the dungeon for the next sucker after all.

“Weeeellllll dooooneeeee… huuuuumaaaaannn…. Youuuuuuuu passssssed the teeeeeeesttt…”

And now it spoke. Or rather, it’s telepathically speaking into my mind.

I approached the orb, one hand still resting on the handle of my sword. I would be foolish to trust this thing.

“Hey, stop speaking weirdly and just give me the sword.” Really, why was it speaking all drawn-out like that?

"Neeexxttt rooooommm…"

"Oh, next room, is it?" I glanced at the door on the other side of the room, behind the orb. "Very well."

I took a step forward.

Only for a click to be heard as the floor tile lowered.

In a flash, I stepped backwards, just in time to dodge an explosion. The trap didn't end there though. Toxic gasses immediately filled the room, followed by spikes jutting out from every surface, even the floor.

The biggest thing here was obviously the gas. I had no way to nullify the poison indefinitely. The spikes on the other hand were a joke. If it seriously thought that giant spikes like these were any threat to a swordswoman of my caliber…

Bzzzttt!

And now it electrocutes the spikes. Still, it was nothing a little Fortissimo couldn't handle.

Standing on top of the electrified spikes, I quickly scanned the room for an escape. Of course, the two doors, behind me and in front of me, were already shut tight by the core.

Should I just slice this thing? But they say they need the dungeon for further generations…

…Oh well, I’ll just cut through the door.

Taking one last deep breath, I dashed towards the door in front of me. Without losing momentum, I maneuvered my sword for a thrusting motion.

“Staccato: Needle!”

This is a technique specifically designed to be used against opponents with high armor. It injects your aura into the enemy’s flesh before exploding them from the inside.

The opponent this time was a stone door so it might not work. But I’d say it’s worth a try.

My sword clashed with the hard rock. It was clearly enchanted and reinforced by magic.

And yet, it wasn’t as strong as the enchantments in that labyrinth.

It exploded into million pieces a moment later, unable to resist the force of my aura.

Without waiting, I slipped through, leaving the toxic gas behind before I had to take another breath.

—-----

Haaahhh, that was annoying…

I really want to smack that little orb for trying to trap me like that… but I suppose this is part of the test…

But enough of that. Now, where’s that sword?

My eyes scanned the new room I ended up in.

Well well well. There it is.

Across the small room, there was a shrine.

And there, on the offering table, the sword rested.

I walked forward, taking care to be careful of any other traps. I didn’t expect there would be any though. My instinct told me that this was it. This was the gift I had been fighting for. No strings attached.

I stopped in front of the blade. Just by looking at it, I could tell that the craftsmanship was exquisite. The sheathe was ornate yet simple, never crossing into the realm of gaudiness with its decorations. I especially like the amethyst gem it had in the middle.

Gently, I lifted it off the table. It was light, lighter than my old sword or my current one. This should be made out of mithril, right? Then how could it be this light? It’s like holding air.

Grabbing the sheath and handle, slowly, I unsheathed it.

T-this is….

It’s alive! The blade is alive!

I could feel it! The thunder crackling in the steel! Is this what a magic weapon looks like?!

I swung the blade to the side. Lightning shot out from the tip, striking the earth underneath.

The whole blade was crackling with thunder, illuminating the dark room with its light.

A smile broke out on my face.

With this, I will be unstoppable.

—-------------

I returned to the surface a few days later, with the blade safely tucked to the belt at my waist.

Oh, I had tested it on the monsters in the dungeon, and it worked like a dream. It was a lot sharper than both of my previous swords. Simply holding it, I felt like I could attack more swiftly and more accurately than before.

When I arrived back at the Shrine of The Harpsichord, I was greeted by whispers of awe from other Champion-rank swordsmen.

“The brat actually did it…”

“Unbelievable…”

“No… maybe she just ran away… Look, she doesn’t have any scars or wounds on her body. There’s no way she can make it through the dungeon without any…”

Hearing their inane, disbelieving voices, I couldn’t help but smirk.

Frida was standing across the courtyard with her hands crossed under her chest. Judging by her own smirk, she was just as satisfied by my victory. No longer will these old, untalented men question her decision to teach me.

“You’ve returned. The sword?”

I unsheathed it right in front of her. Once again, it crackled with power, enough to slightly make her hair tense.

“Well done. Fiora Guinevere Pendragon. You have passed the first test.” She rested one hand on my shoulder. “Or you would, after you name this sword.”

I looked down at the electrified blade.

There was only one name that came into mind.

“Lightning Dancer.” I looked up to see her. “I shall name it Lightning Dancer.”

“Hmm, quite the simple name. Are you sure you don’t prefer something fancier?”

“No.” I smiled. “This sword… she’s as swift and elegant as me. And she shares the same temperament. After using it for a few days, I can already tell that she’s the perfect blade for me.”

“Oh really?” She cocked her head to the side, a slight smirk decorating her lips. “So you fancy yourself a dancer now?”

“A sword dancer.” I corrected her. “Much more beautiful. And deadly.”

She clucked her tongue, putting one hand on her waist as she rubbed my head. “Hmph. I see I really didn’t make a mistake making you my pupil.”

“Now, you should prepare for your second test.”

“You don’t have to tell me that.”

“You… you’re back!”

Ah, there’s that familiar voice. I was wondering when she’s gonna show up.

I turned around and saw Sara running into the courtyard, her twintails trailing behind her.

“Damn you! You didn’t even tell me you’re going to take the test!”

“You’re not my mother.” I smirked, sheathing my sword back to its place. “Why should I say anything to you?”

“Grr, just you wait!” She pointed at me. “I’m going to take the test too one of these days! And then, I shall beat you to the title of Virtuoso!”

“Yes yes, I would be looking forward to that day.”

With another “hmph”, she fled the scene. She really was just here to say that, huh?

Oh well, it’s good for her to have a rival.

I just hope she doesn’t have any ideas of going to the dungeon before she’s ready.

—---------

The so-called “second test” Frida mentioned was dueling the three Virtuoso-rank swordmaster. That would be Frida herself, of course, of the Peacock School, followed by Brutus, of the Cassowary School, and last but not least, Garha, of the Gazelle School. Sara’s teacher to be exact. And I only had to win against one of them to be accepted as a Virtuoso-rank like them.

Before I took it though, I needed to master my skill with Lightning Dancer first. And for that, I plan to take several months training on my own. At this point, I had to develop my own fighting techniques, not just aping what Frida could teach me. Start my own school, so to speak.

Oh, by the way, if you want to know where they got this blade from, well, I wouldn’t know either. Frida wouldn’t tell. They must have some really good blacksmith though, judging by the craftwork. Maybe the one in the village?

I spent the next month training on my own. My goal was simple. Using the lightning the blade was enchanted with, I would increase both my speed and precision to its maximum. I had sparred with Frida a few times and I knew my current speed was still not quite enough to compare with hers.

I took a break afterwards, however. Why? Because it was that time of the year where my eyes and ears brought me news from the outside.

And somehow, I had a hunch that something big had happened. Something I should be ready for.

—-----------

“Is that it? Is that all you know?”

“Yes, Your Majesty. Unfortunately, the Magocracy has been really secretive on their plans. We were unable to gain anything substantial. Although, like we said before, judging by the increase in military exercises, we can assume in good faith that they might be thinking of an invasion.”

I bit my lip, crossing my legs as I sat on the giant rock, watching as Catboy knelt in front of me.

Oh Hugo. What mess have you gotten into now? Though it’s only to be expected until the world starts to notice your talent.

But for the Colonies to be taken over, it is certainly quite the worrying development. How long has it been since a Demon Lord acted that aggressively?

Though, this is a good opportunity for me to take. If I slay the Demon Lord, I might earn enough popularity to take the throne smoothly.  The question is whether I'm strong enough to do it or not.

Still, what’s more concerning is the Magocracy. Whatever they did, to cause an earthquake that spans the entire continent, it can’t be good. They can even cause it just to weaken the other kingdoms in that continent before they invade.

In short, it's only a matter of time until they attack my Holy Empire.

...Heh, I might need your service soon, Hugo.

I jumped off the large rock, landing right in front of the beastkin.

"I want you to both keep an eye on the Magocracy as well as Hugo."

"Of course, Your Majesty."

"And naturally, do the same with my sister and brother. I have a hunch they wouldn't stay put while all this chaos is happening."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

"...Hey, what's that smirk for?" I lightly kicked his head with my boot. "You found something funny?"

A chuckle escaped his lips. He raised his head, still keeping the smirk.

“This chaos… it’s exciting, don’t you think?”

“Exciting?” I raised an eyebrow.

"Yes." He stood up. "The gears of the world are turning. The age is changing. And I am here to witness it all on the front row seat."

"Heh, I never took you as a poet." I grinned, folding my arms under my chest. "But you're right. The world is moving, whether we want to or not."

"Indeed. And I have you to thank for this privilege." He gave a deep bow, still grinning. "Though I wish to thank you for one other thing."

"And that is?"

"A glimpse of a future empress' undergarments."

…

Swish. My sword now rested at his neck.

"You're getting quite bold, aren't you?"

"I meant no offense, Your Majesty." He still grinned. "But it is impossible not to catch a glimpse of your unmentionables if you wear such a short skirt while I lower myself in front of you."

“...Hmph.” I sheathed my sword back. “Even so, blatantly announcing that in front of my person… Do you wish for me to cut your tongue?”

“Then I won’t be able to give you my reports.”

“...Cheeky little brat.”

—----

As I saw him disappearing over the hill, I squeezed my thighs together.

Ah, I made him see…

This skirt really is kinda short…

The outfit I wore was actually custom-tailored, courtesy of Helen. There was no requirement for a student to all wear the same clothes. As long as your teacher approved, you could wear whatever you wanted.

And, thanks to a certain someone, I decided to make the skirt go down only halfway up my thighs.

Damn you, Hugo. Get back here and satisfy me already. I'm seriously turning into an exhibitionist here.

The outfit wasn't a tasteless sexy costume or anything. It was a respectable set of clothing that just happened to show the charms of the wearer. In the first place, short skirts like this were common amongst swordswoman. Even Sara wore one.

Still, having someone peek under my skirt like that, and while I was giving orders to them…

I bit my lip, pressing my left hand between my legs. I began to imagine Hugo, kowtowing to me in my throne room as I sat on the throne, giving him orders as his empress. Only for him to grin lewdly as he pointed out I had been showing my panties all along...

…Damn it. I'm starting to get wet down there. Guess I'll take care of it before heading back.

…

I wonder if I can use that sword to…

I looked around, making sure that I was really on my own. It won’t do to be caught pleasuring yourself, especially when you do it in such an unconventional way.

Good. The coast is clear.

…I’ll probably get kicked out of the Order if Frida finds out but eh, I don’t really believe in “honoring your sword” or any of the junk.

This sword… if it really is like me… then it should enjoy it too.

I unhooked the sword from my belt buckle. And then, still in a sheathed state, I put it between my legs.

And then, I commanded it to start vibrating.

It refused.

Oh goddamnit.

This sword is too prideful for that, I guess. Or maybe it’s just shy.

Sighing in defeat, I hooked the sword back to its original place.

Aah, I have to do it the old-fashioned way then.