Chapter 27: A Fiery Encounter and a Dangerous Proposal

“…My benefactor, I have a question.”

“What’s on your mind, old man?”

“Well, did something happen last night? That pervert Carl… he’s acting a bit off today.”

At the dwarf Stroheim’s words, I glanced at Carl trailing behind, and he did seem a bit out of sorts.

Normally, he’d be spouting crude jokes to the priestess and me to lighten the mood.

But today, he exuded a sage-like calm, wearing a serene smile.

…Is it just me, or does this lunatic seem even crazier acting like this?

I slowed my pace to close the distance and poked him hard in the side.

“Gah?!”

Only after the jab did Carl snap back to his usual self.

I looked down at him clutching his side in pain and spoke.

“Hey.”

“Yeah?”

“You sick or something? Why do you look like a guy who lost his junk?”

Tilting my head, I placed a hand on his forehead.

…No fever, so what’s with him? Did he go into heat last night and overdo it or something?

It definitely feels like that.

As I pulled my hand away, I caught his dumbfounded expression.

Carl quickly stepped back, shaking his head.

“You’re just as clueless asleep as you are awake.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Forget it. Explaining’s just gonna hurt my mouth. I wish you’d reflect on what you did.”

Sighing, he strode off ahead, leaving me muttering his words, lost in thought.

“Reflect on what I did?”

I replayed what I’d done to Carl.

Right, his sage-like vibe annoyed me, so I called him out.

Then I poked his side and checked his forehead.

What’s the problem with that?

I was just checking on a teammate’s condition.

What the hell am I supposed to reflect on?

Sending a sharp glance at Carl, now leading the group, Veldum approached, tilting his head.

“Why the scary face again?”

“Just… Carl said something weird and ran off. It’s nothing.”

“Ha, he does throw out stuff you wanna ignore. You’ll get used to it.”

“…Not sure I want to.”

“No helping it then. By the way, witch.”

Pumping his biceps with a hefty dumbbell, Veldum scanned the eerily peaceful wasteland and spoke.

“Doesn’t this area feel off? You know we’ve had dozens of fights over the past few days. But not a single attack here. It’s almost… like we’ve reached the great city, Paradis.”

“How far to Paradis?”

“Two days if we’re quick, three if we’re slow.”

Two to three days to Paradis, and no attacks.

Is this intentional, or just a coincidence?

As I pondered—

Thud.

Something caught my foot.

Looking down, I saw a charred weapon.

Nodding, I glanced at the sky.

“Then there’s only one explanation.”

“Hm?”

Ignoring Veldum’s confusion, I called to the priestess to cast the strongest protective spell she could.

“Use all your holy power if you have to. Make the toughest barrier you can.”

“Why?”

“Just do it. Unless you want to die right now.”

The area was so quiet, not even an ant’s footsteps could be heard.

A place as peaceful as Paradis? There’s one other spot.

…Didn’t I say yesterday that Paradis is the only livable place?

Sure, but this place is peaceful in a different way.

If the original novel’s setting holds true, only one living person exists here.

As the priestess conjured a sturdy barrier, a massive flaming sword descended from the sky.

It was like a divine judgment on a sinner who broke a taboo.

But the priestess’s solid dome-shaped barrier held firm against the flaming sword.

Crack-crack-crack!

As a harsh grinding sound echoed and cracks formed in the barrier, the flaming sword dissipated.

The priestess’s fully-powered barrier shattered into fragments, scattering in the wind.

“Ugh…!”

Thud!

Whether from the intense heat or expending too much holy power, the priestess collapsed, panting.

Seeing this, Kotath tossed her a homemade tonic, his face alight with interest.

“That kind of firepower… if used right, it could make incredible food.”

“You’re talking about food in a situation like this?”

“But it’s perfect firepower! If harnessed, it could revolutionize culinary arts!”

“Goddamn lunatic.”

Shaking my head at the orc’s absurd chatter, I spotted the one who’d unleashed the flaming sword.

“Oh… a plump, glossy, smooth tail…!”

Carl, about to spew more lewd nonsense, shut up after I smacked his head.

The one who dropped the flaming sword?

A red-haired dragonian, her sleek tail swaying.

In the novel I read, The Bizarre Adventures of Lunatics*, every episode featured at least one ally.

In the northern arc, the theocracy’s saint candidate.

In the southern arc, the original owner of this body, the witch Beatrice.

And in the west—

“Who the hell’s causing a ruckus in my territory?!”

The bad-tempered dragonian before us was that “ally.”

As shown in the original novel, allies played many roles.

Some flirted with a party member.

Others were key to resolving the arc’s crisis.

And they brought laughter with their madness, rivaling the protagonist’s party.

More supporting characters than mere extras.

I’d expected to meet her eventually, but—

“Didn’t think we’d meet like this.”

Running into her on the way to the main episode?

…Now that I think about it, how did the original party meet her?

As I racked my brain, the pissed-off dragonian spewed fire at us.

“Ahh… a flamethrower… the perfect conversation starter!”

Seeing this, Stroheim whipped out his own flamethrower, countering with equal force.

The two flames clashed and canceled out in a spectacular display.

That sight jogged my memory.

The original party also met this battle-crazed dragonian on their way to Paradis.

It’d be crazier to forget this.

In the original, the priestess barely blocked that fiery barrage, while Veldum tanked it with his sturdy body.

“Perfectly trained muscles are the ultimate fortress,” or some nonsense.

Only after spouting that did they meet the dragonian.

Of course, the author clarified that was Veldum’s bullshit.

Her insane fire resistance didn’t come from muscle training but from surviving countless fire spells from the northern arc’s archlich.

A wild collaboration between the “northern ally” and the “northern final boss.”

…Thinking about it gives me a headache.

We nearly died during the recovery phase, and now, if we visit her, she’ll be in top shape.

No, let’s not think about that now.

The southern and western arcs aren’t even done—why worry about some distant future?

“Sigh.”

Letting out a long breath, I approached the dazed dragonian.

The silver lining?

Her personality was straightforward.

Aggressive, fiery, and honest.

In simple terms, a battle-loving idiot.

Among main and supporting characters, she was one of the more normal ones, which I liked.

…Saying an idiot is normal already feels off, though.

Anyway, she’s an idiot.

Give her what she wants, and convincing her should be easy.

With her help, the hellish western arc’s difficulty might drop a bit.

Standing confidently before the battle-crazed dragonian, I spoke carefully to avoid angering her.

“I’ve got something to say, dragonian.”

“My mom said never to talk to witches.”

Yeah, if your mom said so, I guess there’s no helping it… but no.

“Follow me, and I’ll introduce you to some insanely strong opponents. Tempting, right?”

“When there’s one right in front of me?”

“…?”

As I expressed confusion, she immediately assumed a battle stance, flashing a belligerent grin.

“Let’s fight, witch.”

Or else—

“Give me that guy.”

…This damn bitch.