Is It Wrong to Try to Pick Up Girls in a Dungeon? On the Side: Sword Oratoria, Vol. 2
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Copyright
IS IT WRONG TO TRY TO PICK UP GIRLS IN A DUNGEON?
ON THE SIDE: SWORD ORATORIA, Volume 2
FUJINO OMORI
Translation by Andrew Gaippe
Cover art by Kiyotaka Haimura
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
DUNGEON NI DEAI WO MOTOMERU NO WA MACHIGATTEIRUDAROUKA GAIDEN SWORD ORATORIA vol. 2
Copyright © 2014 Fujino Omori
Illustration copyright © Kiyotaka Haimura
Original Character Design © Suzuhito Yasuda
All rights reserved.
Original Japanese edition published in 2014 by SB Creative Corp.
This English edition is published by arrangement with SB Creative Corp., Tokyo, in care of Tuttle-Mori Agency, Inc., Tokyo.
English translation © 2017 by Yen Press, LLC
Yen Press, LLC supports the right to free expression and the value of copyright. The purpose of copyright is to encourage writers and artists to produce the creative works that enrich our culture.
The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book without permission is a theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like permission to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), please contact the publisher. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Names: Ōmori, Fujino, author. | Haimura, Kiyotaka, 1973– illustrator. | Yasuda, Suzuhito, designer.
Title: Is it wrong to try to pick up girls in a dungeon? on the side: sword oratoria / story by Fujino Omori ; illustration by Kiyotaka Haimura ; original design by Suzuhito Yasuda.
Other titles: Danjon ni deai o motomeru no wa machigatteirudarouka gaiden sword oratoria. English.
Description: New York, NY : Yen On, 2016– | Series: Is it wrong to try to pick up girls in a dungeon? on the side: sword oratoria
Identifiers: LCCN 2016023729 | ISBN 9780316315333 (v. 1 : paperback) | ISBN 9780316318167 (v. 2 : paperback)
Subjects: | CYAC: Fantasy.
Classification: LCC PZ7.1.O54 Isg 2016 | DDC [Fic]—dc23
LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2016023729
ISBNs: 978-0-316-31816-7 (paperback)
978-0-316-31817-4 (ebook)
E3-20170131-JV-PC
Contents
Cover
Insert
Title Page
Copyright
Prologue: It Began in a Bedroom
Chapter 1: The Average Day
Chapter 2: Incident
Chapter 3: Gekai Detective Loki
Chapter 4: Orb
Chapter 5: The Battle of Rivira
Chapter 6: Parched Scream
Epilogue: An Unexpected Reunion
Afterword
Yen Newsletter
PROLOGUE
IT BEGAN IN A BEDROOM
It was a dark room.
A single magic-stone lamp on the wall was the only source of light. The corners of the room were masked in shadow. The air inside the chamber was damp and filled with the earthy scent of rocks. The only color in the room came from crystals among the silver and steel, and the rather fancy decorations adorning the walls and dangling from the ceiling glittered blue in the light.
However, the light itself was little more than a flickering candle. It barely illuminated the red rug on the floor, the wicker baskets along the walls, the wide shelving unit, or the crudely constructed bed in the center.
Two figures entered the room.
One of them was completely covered in full-plated body armor. The other was draped in a slightly dirty robe paired with a hood; the outfit covered the wearer from the face down. The two exchanged few words as they placed their belongings, starting with a backpack, in a dark corner before making their way to the wooden bed.
A man’s face emerged from beneath an intimidating helmet, then he started removing his his armor one piece at a time, all the way down to the greaves that covered the tips of his toes. A fortress of flesh appeared from beneath his inner shirt, and the adventurer was already half naked. Leaving his underwear on for the time being, the man took a seat on the side of the bed and glanced at the hooded figure. The cloak was not all that tight around her body, and yet her figure was easily distinguishable when looking at her ample breasts and slim waist. It became even easier when she started to peel back layers of clothing to bare her skin.
“Oi, strip already. Don’t kill the mood after coming this far.”
“Hold on. Don’t be greedy.”
The woman’s high-pitched voice was surprisingly calm as it responded to the man’s naked desire. Slender fingers came out from beneath the cloak and pulled back her hood. At the same time, she loosened the string holding her hair in place. Unraveling all at once, it tumbled down her back with a soft swoosh.
She was a captivating woman.
Her body was a mass of seductive curves that would instantly grab the attention of any man. Her supple breasts were inviting, and she had a pleasingly rounded backside that could arouse just about anyone’s desire. Her thin waist was rather high, her arms and legs lithe and thin. Her calm voice and demeanor seemed to contradict the alluring pheromones that wafted from her soft skin.
The large man on the bed knew from the start how provocative the woman’s body was, but as he watched the cloak fall away from her, her face took his breath away. The light from the lamps dimly lit her figure, causing the man to audibly gulp.
“Why do you hide such a beautiful face?”
“To keep men like you from hounding me.”
The woman smiled as she responded to the dumbfounded man’s question without missing a beat. Not a single thread of cloth was left on her body as she slid in close to the adventurer. Wrapping her soft body in his arms, the man pushed her down onto the bed.
The shadows of the two figures intertwined on the wall; the wooden bed groaned beneath them.
“About what we were talking about before…what kind of quest did you take on?”
The woman spoke just before the fireworks could get under way.
The man paused, thinking for a moment as the seductive woman lay on her back beneath him. He froze, his lips mere moments from falling onto hers. Collecting his thoughts, he finally spoke.
“It was a strange one: head down to the thirtieth floor, collect some weird thing, and come back…”
The man seemed to suddenly recall something as he looked up from his partner.
She silently raised her eyes toward the man’s not-so-large, yet muscular body.
“Oops, that was supposed to be classified. Do me a favor: Pretend you didn’t hear it.”
“Is that right…?”
She met his eyes as she spoke, placing her hand on his cheek.
Her dainty hand skimmed his face, running her fingers down his chin and angling toward the neck in almost a caress.
Then, suddenly, she gripped his throat.
“?!”
Five fingers sank deep into the muscular man’s neck. Armor off and guard completely down, the man could only frantically grab at the hand threatening to suffocate him. Surprise and fear filled his eyes, but his assailant’s arm didn’t budge in the slightest.
He was unable to put up a decent fight. The room suddenly filled with the echoes of cracking bone and ripping tendon. The man’s eyes became bloodshot as his mouth opened and closed over and over again. Only the sounds of ragged breathing and choked desperation escaped his lips.
The woman watched him, her face betraying no emotion. Then—snap!
His neck having been broken, his head fell limply onto her chest.
“…”
The woman unceremoniously tossed him aside, nothing but a rag doll along the edge of the bed. His body crumpled onto the floor with a dull thud.
Dim light brushed her skin as she silently sat up, lifted her long legs, and climbed out of the bed. Ignoring the body at her feet, she walked straight toward the corner of the room.
Still naked, she bent down over the man’s backpack, ripped it open, and rummaged inside with reckless abandon.
The sounds of sorting echoed throughout the room for a few moments…Before long, her search came to a halt.
“…Not here.”
After she muttered her findings to the empty room, she stood still for a moment. She clicked her tongue in frustration.
She glared at the man’s body, grinding her molars together in an effort to contain her anger. Then she stood up as her anger turned to rage.
Her steps were violent as she strode to the dead man’s corpse, then—.
SPLAT!
The man’s head was crushed beneath her foot, the spray of blood dyeing the room red.
CHAPTER 1
THE AVERAGE DAY
Pang! Pang! The echoes of metal on metal filled the air.
Relentless, high-pitched bangs came from all directions at once. A shower of sparks accompanied each one, momentary light flashing throughout the room with every impact.
Falling hammers, masculine smiths wiping away rivers of sweat, the grunts and groans of their labor—this was a workshop through and through. Bright red flames burned at fever pitch within four massive forges, one on each wall. The heat exuding from their openings was stifling.
A young prum girl, most likely a student of the trade, hurriedly worked her way through the animal people and dwarves with her arms full of firewood and extra tools.
“HUAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA?! Damn you, Amazon! Rot in HELLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL!”
Five large men were hard at work in a corner of the workshop, repeatedly striking a large chunk of adamantite. Bringing down hammer after hammer that looked powerful enough to crush a large-category monster’s head in one blow, they shaped the extremely stubborn metal to their will, eliminating the impurities.
All the smiths had acquired the Advanced Ability “Forge,” which allowed them to instill special characteristics in their work. The head of each hammer glowed with a soft red light—not unlike Magic—as they breathed steadily and transformed the ore in front of them into a weapon that would become something far superior to the rest.
The most experienced High Smith among them led the charge, his loud, gruff voice not allowing the others to slow down.
Aiz made herself as small as possible as she listened to the grievances of the sleep-deprived smiths, most of which were directed at her best friend or at herself.
Walking very quietly and hoping to go unnoticed, the blond-haired girl came to a stop in front of a deity.
“To think, you destroyed it in only five days…”
The girl’s shoulders trembled under the weight of Goibniu’s dry, heavy words.
While the god was small in stature, similar to a dwarf, his wizened features were offset by his incredibly muscular physique. He looked the human girl in the eyes and let out a long sigh.
It was the morning after the Monsterphilia.
Aiz was here to retrieve her weapon of choice, Desperate, from Goibniu Familia’s home, the Three Hammers Forge. The repairs were finally complete. She stood at the counter in the very center of the long, rectangular workshop. It was still quite early in the morning, and yet the smiths of Goibniu Familia were already hard at work all around her. Every single one of them was covered in sweat. It didn’t matter if they were putting hammer to steel on a workbench, tending to the forge fires, reviewing the orders for custom-made weapons posted on a bulletin board near the doorway, or whatever else they been assigned—everyone was busy.
Goibniu handed Aiz’s favorite saber, Desperate, to her over the counter at the same time that Aiz returned the weapon loaned to her during the repairs—a rapier.
At least, what was left of it.
“You young’uns sure know how to make a smith miserable…”
“…I’m sorry.”
Goibniu looked down at the remains on the counter between them as Aiz’s shoulders sank. Knowing that the remark was aimed at her and Tiona, she did her best to apologize. However, her weak voice was barely audible over the organized chaos surrounding them.
The rapier had been at her side during the Monsterphilia and shattered during the battle against monsters loose in the town. Now it lay on the counter, nothing more than scraps, the only piece still recognizable its hilt. Even a child on the street, at first glance, would be able to tell it was beyond repair. It had been unable to withstand the strain of Aiz’s fighting style, combined with the stress of her Magic. Its days as a weapon were over.
“Loki Familia, again?!” came the fed-up whispers and angry glances of the hardworking smiths all around them. While Aiz felt guilty for causing them so much trouble, she was also grateful for their skilled labor.
“…How much do I owe?”
“Forty million valis, or thereabouts.”
Gong! That number reverberated her head, its weight hitting her like a ton of bricks.
Aiz rubbed her temple as she collected her thoughts…and decided she had no choice but to prowl the Dungeon to pay back the debt.
Goibniu crossed his arms and mumbled under his breath. Aiz realized something that made her shoulders sink farther still as she looked at the deity’s stern expression.
Her apology to the white-haired boy would have to wait.
The sound of a blade cut through the air.
The light swishes that followed the blade were proof of the immense speed and precision of each strike. Silver flashes of a saber tore through the crisp morning air.
The sun had still not risen from the eastern horizon, and yet Aiz was practicing her techniques in the central garden of Loki Familia’s home.
No one had ordered her. It had been her idea to add early-morning training to her daily routine when she was nine years old. Whether for daily review or to polish her swordsmanship skills, Aiz had practiced in this garden almost every day she was at home since then. This kind of practicing paled in comparison to the combat experience she gained in the Dungeon, but she never neglected it. She couldn’t afford to neglect it. Like many of her fellow adventurers, Aiz was afraid of one thing: becoming unable to move forward.
She didn’t move far from one particular patch of grass in the garden. After spending a week with the rapier, she needed some time to become reacquainted with the finer details of Desperate. She swung vertically, horizontally, and diagonally, over and over, her blade singing around her. Keeping footwork to a minimum, Aiz’s sword cut through the air like a baton conducting her one-person symphony of silver slashes and echoes.
Rays of red light started to light up the sky before she knew it. The sun was rising.
A leaf fell from the branch of the tree in the garden. “Hyun!” A silver
streak cut straight through it in midair, punctuating the end of her practice. Aiz watched the pieces fall as she returned her blade to its sheath.
“…?”
Her morning practice over, only now did Aiz realize she was being watched.
Spinning to find the observer, she immediately saw the elf Lefiya standing next to the doorway to one of the towers adjacent to the garden. She appeared entranced, her eyes wide.
The elf, holding a thick book, stood like a statue and only snapped back into the moment when she noticed Aiz was looking at her. A smile quickly appeared on her lips as she balanced the book against her chest and gave Aiz a round of applause.
“A-absolutely incredible, Miss Aiz! I was so caught up in the spectacle that I forgot to announce myself!”
“Umm…Thank you?”
Aiz tilted her head as she answered Lefiya’s praise. She had never been complimented on practicing before and was unsure how to react.
Lefiya’s cheeks turned light pink as she excitedly ran up to the girl, her dark blue eyes shimmering in the morning light. Overwhelming admiration filled her gaze.
“So it is true that you practice even this early in the morning…That’s why you’re so powerful…I must learn from your example!”
After witnessing how the “Sword Princess” trained, Lefiya felt as if she had discovered one of Aiz’s secrets and vowed to apply herself to it.
Aiz couldn’t help but smile at the young elf, the corners of her lips turning upward.
“Who instructed you in the art of swordsmanship? Being a magic user, I am a novice with blades. Even so, I can see the quality of your techniques…”
“…My father, I guess.”
Aiz let her gaze wander as she came up with her answer.
“Your father…Speaking of which, where are your parents now…?”
Lefiya’s question trailed off as a new voice rang out from a different direction.
“Lefiya. How much time does it take for you to retrieve one book from the archive?”
“L-Lady Riveria…”
Another elf descended a set of stairs and entered the garden: Riveria.