The Legendary Heroine is actually a Pervert when Level Drained?! - The Hero's Boredom — The Hero Sleeps in a Cage

The air was rotten. Not rotten in the crude sense—it was too refined for that. A peculiar stench: sweat and dust mixed with the scorched smell of leather and some kind of alchemical potion. The interior of the Pergant Adventurer's Mutual Aid Society's Felizand headquarters had been saturated with this odor since morning. White limestone walls, stained dull by decades of soot. Light streaming through the open ceiling made dust particles float visibly, as if the very bottom of the world were slowly peeling away. Liliana Solana Voss stood alone in that air. Before the request board. A massive panel over two meters tall, plastered with dozens of parchment notices. She stood before it with narrowed eyes, methodically appraising each one. Silver ringlets flowed from her shoulders to her waist. Each time they caught the light, they scattered white gleams like the polished surface of armor. Golden eyes—deep, amber-tinged gold—moved slowly across the board. Her height matched the men around her, yet her posture possessed a steely density. Light armor, modified from noble formal wear, seemed slightly snug at the chest, and a single slender sword belt hung at her waist. That was all. Minimal decoration. Yet her mere presence pushed back the surrounding air. The adventurers around her naturally kept their distance. Not consciously. It had simply become that way. The request board was normally the most crowded spot, but today a two-meter radius around Liliana lay empty. Even a large man bearing an A-rank badge—clearly a veteran—had approached her side, sensed her presence, and quietly retreated. (She's here again, that person.) Someone whispered it faintly. Liliana didn't care. [[Hero: Liliana Solana Voss]] [[Titles: <<Hero of the End of Magic>>, <<Demon Lord Slayer>>]] [[Rank: S—the apex of adventurer rankings, currently a special class with zero registered members]] Adventurer ranks ran from G to S, eight tiers in total. G was for newcomers, S for legends. However, currently only one S-rank was registered at the Felizand headquarters. In fact, only one existed on the entire continent. That was her. Liliana's gaze stopped on the topmost request slip. Wyvern subjugation in the Helga Mountain Range highlands. Estimated three individuals. Requester: a border lord of the Dragnol Duchy. Reward: two hundred gold coins. (...A-rank equivalent, then.) Tedious. The answer was already visible. Where were the weak points of a flying-type dragon? How to lure them out? Strike the wings first or the throat? She knew it all. A battle whose conclusion was visible before it even began—nothing was more hollow than that. Next. Pursuit and suppression of a magical thief gang. Requester: the Felizand Commerce Guild. B-rank equivalent. Reward: eighty gold coins. (Tedious.) Next. Medicinal herb gathering escort. To the edge of the Myles Great Forest. D-rank equivalent. Reward: thirty silver coins. (Out of the question.) Liliana's golden eyes moved mechanically. Right to left, top to bottom. Then, one request slip caught her attention. "Extermination of five slimes. Location: underground waterways of Felizand's south district. Reward: fifteen copper coins." Liliana skimmed it in an instant, then returned to it two seconds later. "...What exactly is one supposed to eat with this?" The murmur reached no one, but the corner of her mouth twisted slightly. Slimes were soft-bodied monsters inhabiting underground waterways and marshes, considered beneficial creatures due to their purification properties. There was even a theory that careless extermination would worsen water quality. Fifteen copper coins converted to real-world prices was roughly fifteen hundred yen. Five loaves of bread. (Well, someone posted it, so there must be demand.) She was about to pass by when her gaze caught on a slip pasted in the corner of the board, nearly hidden beneath other papers. Only half visible. She dragged her eyes to see it fully. "Golan Village—Goblin Sweep—Danger Rank E—Reward: twenty gold coins." Liliana stared at that slip for three seconds. Goblins. An estimated five hundred thousand or more inhabited the entire continent—gray-green subhuman-type monsters. Height: ninety to one hundred twenty centimeters. Low intelligence, but abnormally high breeding rate; a single female produces four to six offspring at once. Official danger rank among adventurers: E—the lowest tier. The kind of job rookies took to build credentials. A hero who slew the demon lord, exterminating goblins. Her mouth twisted. A small breath escaped her nose. Not quite what could be called a laugh. And yet. Before she knew it, Liliana's hand was peeling the request slip from the board. Hunger for stimulation moved faster than pride. --- The receptionist was a young man who appeared to be in his early twenties. His hands, which had been carefully organizing documents one by one, stopped abruptly the moment Liliana approached the counter. "A-ah, um..." His gaze fell to the request slip she held out. He read it. Read it again. Looked up. Looked at Liliana. Looked at the slip again. "The hero... taking this request...?" His voice cracked. Liliana said nothing. She simply looked down at the man with her golden eyes. That was enough. The clerk muttered "Yes, I'll accept it, I'll process it right away" while frantically pulling out documents. His quill stabbed too deep into the inkwell, and the ink spread across the edge of the paper, but he didn't notice. Liliana took her copy, turned, and walked away. Behind her, she faintly heard the man take a deep breath. --- Her private residence was in the upscale residential district of the royal capital, Felizand. A two-story mansion granted by King Ferdis III of the Estria Kingdom. Only two servants: a lady's maid and a cook. Liliana had requested it that way. Being surrounded by many people made her suffocate. Travel preparations took thirty minutes. Or rather, less than thirty. "At least allow Merina to accompany you... not as a guard, but merely to attend to your needs." The maid—a young girl with distinctive burnt-brown braids—spoke with concern. "Unnecessary." One word ended it. The maid tried to say something, then stopped. After their long association, she had learned that Liliana's "unnecessary" was a word that permitted no further discussion. She fastened the holy sword Carenvieta at her waist. An ancient weapon that had long slumbered in the Celesta Cardinal Church's treasury, the sword she had used to slay Demon Lord Valzelio during the Final Magic War. Slender, appearing at first glance to be merely decorative. Yet the feel in her hand was entirely different from other swords. As for its true capabilities, even Liliana herself didn't fully understand them. Ilmera von Weiss, the Cardinal Church's highest priestess, had only given vague answers, saying "various investigations are necessary." Well, that was fine. For now, it functioned sufficiently. She adjusted her light armor and donned her mantle. The maid said softly, "Please be careful." Liliana didn't nod. But she paused for just a moment before stepping through the door. —Was there any need to be careful? Against goblins? Not understanding why she had stopped, she simply walked on. --- Felizand's city gate gleamed white in the morning light. The limestone walls reflected the dawn sun. The soldiers standing on either side of the gate recognized Liliana and executed perfect salutes. Spines straightened, chins raised, spears aligned vertically. Liliana passed through without a glance. The gate guards missed their timing to lower their salutes—she caught it from the corner of her eye. She didn't think it pitiful. She felt no obligation to return their courtesy, at least not now. The reverence and respect directed at the hero had been pleasant at first. After a year, it had become a transparent cage. Everyone saw her, but no one saw Liliana. The Parcel Road extended northeast. White stone pavement lay in orderly rows, about sixty kilometers to Golan Village. A carriage could be used, but she had declined today. She proceeded on foot. The wind came from ahead. Spring's end wind, carrying a faint scent of earth. Outside Felizand, the air smelled like this. No mixture of building stone and human sweat—just honest air. Liliana preferred it, though she had never consciously acknowledged this. After walking for a while, she noticed. Her left hand was gripping the sword's hilt. (...Again.) She didn't know when she had started. She had no memory of moving it consciously. Since the Final Magic War ended, this had happened many times. Whenever she wasn't thinking about anything in particular, her hand sought out Carenvieta's hilt. Her fingers tried to remember that sensation. That sensation from when. The moment she slew Demon Lord Valzelio. In the innermost chamber of the ruined fortress in the Caldia Wasteland. The throne room where miasma swirled. The endpoint of three years of war. Liliana had come alone and struck the final blow. The demon lord, spewing curses, collapsed—and she still saw that image in her dreams. The problem was his eyes. Vacant eyes. As if appealing something incomprehensible. That gaze. Mixed with the words of curse, what the demon lord had expelled in those final moments was neither anger nor despair. Liliana still didn't know what it had been. And a year had passed without her understanding. (There's no point thinking about it.) She consciously removed her hand from the hilt. Weeds grew along the roadside. Small white flowers swayed in the wind. Flowers whose names she didn't know. She had learned the basics of botany as a Voss family daughter, but all such details had been purged from her mind. Her family's education prioritized useful knowledge. Showing weakness was shameful for House Voss. Sentimentality was a form of weakness. She remembered a childhood tutor asking what meaning there was in knowing a flower's name. That sensibility was still ingrained in her, and she couldn't stop to admire flowers. Liliana walked past. --- Half a day of travel northeast on the Parcel Road. She didn't stop at the waystation town of Harfel. Her midday rest was on a stone beside the road, eating a piece of dried travel bread. She washed it down with water from her flask and was done. The Voss family table always had lavish meals. Now as a hero, her annual salary was three thousand gold coins. In real currency, that equaled thirty million yen. She had lands. Tax exemption privileges. If she wished, she could have anything. Yet eating dried bread felt easier. (Strange, isn't it.) Thinking such things, she stood up—and saw a black mass in the distance. The Myles Great Forest. The edge of the primordial forest sprawling across the continent's northeast lay heavily along the horizon. Ancient trees centuries old grew densely; even in daylight, the interior was said to be dim. Orcs, forest wolves, and goblins. One of the continent's largest monster habitats. Golan Village was positioned at the forest's edge. A small village of eight hundred people, apparently suffering frequent goblin attacks. Liliana continued forward. Then she stopped. The air had changed. "Changed" wasn't precise enough. More accurately—something was mixed in. The residue of a curse-type magical aura. Thin, faint, yet definitely dissolved into the road's air. From the forest's direction. Liliana narrowed her eyes and expanded her mana-sensing range. In a world where twelve percent of the population had magical aptitude, practical-level practitioners numbered only three percent. And Liliana was among the apex of those. She traced the aura. Curse-type residue. Not attack, not defense, not healing. Difficult to classify as support. If anything, curse-type—the most primitive and hardest-to-control of the world's five magical systems. (A goblin's curse magic?) Liliana's eyebrow moved slightly.

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Name: The Legendary Heroine is actually a Pervert when Level Drained?!
Author: Novelia

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