Otherworld TRPG Game Master

Cicel Yurensto occasionally wondered about her own demise. Like everyone else, she knew the eternal sleep would inevitably claim her one day.

Perhaps she would meet her end on a fierce battlefield, collapse while swinging her sword in the backyard, or, maybe, one morning, she simply wouldn’t wake up.

Once, such thoughts appeared in her dream. It was the night she received her conditional terminal diagnosis from the Priest.

In that dream, Cicel stood amidst countless versions of her own lifeless body, reflected endlessly like images in a hall of mirrors. Each figure wore the same vacant expression, a look that seemed strangely at peace.

She stared at her own corpses until she suddenly woke up.

When she shared the dream with First Princess Elaine, she focused on a detail other than the death in the dream.

Did your dead self look young or old?

They looked all young, just like Cicel. The reflections resembled her current self, as if she were staring into a mirror.

Have you ever thought about⋯⋯ a peaceful, natural death? Growing old, raising children, building a family, and eventually passing away happily surrounded by your loved ones?

Cicel shook her head. She couldn’t imagine herself in old age.

The idea of living long enough to grow old felt vague, almost unreal. It was overwhelming to even think that. Life was too long⋯⋯.

After that conversation, she stopped thinking about death. The dreams stopped, and even when someone brought up such topics in conversation, she brushed it aside without much thought.

Ruminating on it seemed pointless, and using her Metamorphosis wasn’t a choice—it was a necessity. If she wanted to solidify Knight Yurensto’s reputation on the battlefield, she had no alternative.

Battle, train, sleep, repeat.

Her life moved in an unrelenting cycle, like a cogwheel in a massive machine, until she was pushed into the Hero Selection Tournament. She convinced herself she no longer thought about death. She believed she had become detached. But⋯⋯.

Perhaps all of this was nothing more than avoidance.

Maybe she had sealed the gates of her heart, locking away intrusive thoughts before they could overwhelm her.

But last night, ever since she received the three-use limit diagnosis from that strange doctor, those thoughts came rushing back.

She had told herself she was indifferent to death.

“Block A of the Tournament of『Courage』! Round of 32! Coming from the left⋯⋯ do I even need to introduce her? She has defeated every opponent with a single swing so far! Presenting the Deputy Commander of the『Azure Wind Knight Order』, Cicel Yurensto──!!”

Clank, clank.

Her iron boots, which now felt like an extension of her body, echoed as she marched forward. The arena glowed with an intensity that was blinding, yet to Cicel, it felt no different from the light of death.

She raised her gauntlet to shield her eyes from the glare. With her vision now cloaked in shadow, the brightness became tolerable.

Round of 32.

Three times.

If she used her Metamorphosis once per match, she would reach her limit and die in the quarterfinals.

“And on the right⋯⋯ one of Block A’s top contenders! Known for his mastery of earth manipulation through Metamorphosis, the fearsome Kargan of『Pasan』──!!”

Cicel stepped onto the stage.

This stage of “glory” had been her battlefield since childhood.

She gripped her Zweihänder with both hands. It felt heavier than usual. Just three uses left. Thinking about spending one of those precious three on this swing made the number feel absurdly small.

When the final leaf falls from the barren branch⋯⋯.

⋯⋯⋯⋯.

Her opponent was a towering, bear-like man. A famous War Mercenary, whose earth manipulation technique was said to rival even the elite wizards of the Gold Tower.

An opponent against whom she would need to use her Metamorphosis. She wouldn’t be able to win with swordsmanship alone.

“So you’re that female knight who made quite a name for yourself on the Eastern Front. I’ve heard things about the East while traveling. I’ve heard the stories—stacking up those high-priced priests and working them in three shifts, thanks to the First Princess’s support? Such extravagance.”

“⋯⋯⋯⋯.”

“It’s obvious what kind of skill a knight has who fought in such a carefree environment where they cry like a baby and run to a priest for healing over the slightest scratch. I’ll expose your true worth. That the battlefield, where life and death teeter on a knife’s edge, is a completely different── what, are you ignoring me?!”

“Ah, I’m sorry. I was thinking⋯⋯ about something else.”

Juggling two thoughts simultaneously was overwhelming. Her mind felt tangled, and his words barely registered. Cicel offered a quick apology for her lapse in attention.

Perhaps he perceived it as an insult. Kargan roared furiously, summoning all his strength to unleash his Metamorphosis.

“My Metamorphosis is called 『Earth Subjugation』! The ability lets me control the earth within a three-meter radius. I’ll bombard you with rock bullets until you admit defeat, knight of the Eastern Front──!”

Riiiip.

Booom, boom!

“It’s levitating?! The arena floor around Kargan has fractured and risen into the air! Those chunks are as big as people, and there are more than ten of them! And now, what’s with this sudden cloud of dust?!”

“Try and take this──!!”

Rumbleeee──!!

The swirling dust scattered like turbulent waves, obscuring her vision entirely. It was as if a brutal sandstorm had materialized out of nowhere, turning everything into a haze of brown and gray.

Then, amidst the chaos, a distinct noise reached her ears—a large object slicing through the air. It had to be the massive rocks Kargan had ripped from the ground. For any ordinary person, this would have been an inescapable death sentence, and they would end up being crushed beneath the rock pile.

Cicel was no exception. With her natural physical abilities, she had no chance of dodging the attack. She had neither the agility to close the distance in a single burst, nor the precision to exploit a gap in the attack, nor the sheer strength to deflect the rocks.

She didn’t have Jewel’s charisma or sensitivity.

And she wasn’t a genius like Yuna.

Yet, despite everything, she had to somehow, absolutely, succeed. No matter what. Even if it meant sacrificing herself. She couldn’t bear the thought of enduring those disheartening looks of disappointment.

She had to make it happen.

Cicel’s fingers quivered faintly with hesitation—something she had never experienced before. But soon, she activated the trigger.

Wowowowong──.

Her transformation began, coloring the soul.

As she channeled the murky, oppressive gray emotions swirling within her, her soul began to throb painfully, resisting the strain. You must become a knight worthy of the family. That relentless, suffocating obligation constricted her soul.

Along with a searing, unrelenting pain.

The ashen soul, wrung tight like a crushed apple, released a unique mana that seeped through its cracks. This mana coursed through her body like liquid paint, saturating her entirely.

What it created was『Heaviness』.

Her entire body felt unbearably heavy, as though the weight of the world pressed down on her. The Zweihänder in her hands trembled under the strain. Yet, with great effort, Cicel managed to swing the massive blade, carving a wide arc in the air──.

Seuuuuu.

CRAAAAAASH──!!

As the blade cut through the space, an immense, irresistible force surged from the path it traced. A hazy, black rift lingered in the air, and in an instant, the swirling dust, the surrounding air, and the massive flying rocks were all sucked into its grasp.

It looked as if a curved black hole had opened above her head. Everything within range was sucked into the trajectory, forming a crescent moon of debris suspended in the sky.

This was the power of her Metamorphosis── an ability rooted in the simple concept of gravitational weight amplification.

Metamorphosis(羽化), 『Mortal Coil: Gravity’s Embrace(宜務挾擧)』.

“W-what⋯⋯?!”

Kargan, stunned into silence, gaped at the scene before him. His previous confidence evaporated as he stood motionless, unable to even think about continuing his attack.

Had Cicel’s blade been aimed forward instead of upward, Kargan might have been crushed beneath his own rocks.

Or worse, obliterated by the direct impact of her slash, leaving not even a trace of his existence.

This was her mercy.

She had given him a chance—a moment to recognize the gap between their strength and concede defeat early.

“⋯⋯⋯⋯.”

“I won’t take your head. This is a festival, after all.”

Touch.

The Zweihänder rested gently on Kargan’s shoulder. A cold sweat broke out on his brow as he raised both hands—a sign of surrender.

“The match is over in an instant! Though I couldn’t quite follow what just happened⋯⋯ with Kargan’s surrender, the winner is Cicel Yurensto──!! Once again, she has subdued her opponent in a single strike and advances to the next round!”

Thuud-!

As if marking her victory, the massive boulder that had been hovering midair finally succumbed to gravity and crashed to the ground.

The audience erupted in cheers. Cicel Yurensto, however, turned her back on the roaring crowd and made her way toward the exit.

The relentless compression of mana that had drained her soul finally stopped, and the color drained away from her soul escaped. Exhaustion and fatigue washed over her like she had just sprinted a long distance without stopping.

⋯⋯That was one battle done.

There were two left now.

Her body gave the impression it could endure a little longer, but Cicel knew better—it was probably an illusion. The expert Karen had introduced her to had understood the intricate and deep parts of her soul, delivering an unsettlingly precise diagnosis.

A state in which one couldn’t even sense death approaching⋯⋯ when she thought about it that way, it made an eerie sort of sense. After all, people with grave injuries often stopped noticing their own pain.

Two more times⋯⋯.

Cicel’s heart was torn between two conflicting emotions. Was it the anxiety of reaching this critical point so quickly? Or the faint relief of knowing the end was finally near?

Perhaps she didn’t even care to distinguish between the two.

===============================================================

“Keuhaha! This is the end of the road for you, Mysterious Beautiful Young Wizard Girl X! I, an incredibly wealthy Gold Fighter, am using my vast fortune to buy the title of Hero! I’ll even throw in a 30-day unlimited Mima hugging pillow usage ticket, so just surrender!”

“Heung── trying to bribe me, are you? Sorry to disappoint, but the crowd’s expectations rest on my shoulders, you see. I’ll make this quick and painless with my ultimate move, the X Kick, Gold Fighter.”

“⋯⋯How could one not fall for the bribery, you are just enjoying the fame you accidentally gained in this tournament that you entered without thin── owph, ow! I thought you said it would be painless!”

“I’ll miss if you keep moving, so stay still you idiot! Wolf Fang Fist!”

===============================================================

The red-haired girl linked arms with Cicel and stuck close.

“That match was so cool! While we’re just clang-clang-clanging with swords, you’ve got rocks flying and storms blowing⋯⋯ but aren’t you tired at all? Should we go grab a bite to eat? I’m sure you’ve had lots of good food, but this city has quite a few decent restaurants too.”

“Ah, well, uh⋯⋯.”

“Aha, if you’re really tired⋯⋯ there’s a nice aromatherapy and massage place nearby. It might be good for your health after working up a sweat. Or⋯⋯.”

“Uh, I appreciate the suggestion, but⋯⋯.”

Since Cicel’s diagnosis, Karen had been unusually attentive. While Karen didn’t know the exact details of her condition, she had heard something unsettling from the expert: there wasn’t much time left to live.

Perhaps that was why Karen seemed determined to look after her in every possible way. Even when Cicel felt burdened and tried to decline, Karen’s energy left her no choice but to go along. It was foreign to Cicel—this kind of care and concern. She had never received this much attention before.

But…

“Should we go sing?”

“⋯⋯⋯⋯.”

She didn’t dislike it.

Somehow, Cicel found herself being swept along until they ended up on a stage. Karen began performing from the same spot as before, and Cicel watched her dance and sing from among the crowd, feeling elated.

Cicel glanced at the audience, noticing how people expressed their excitement—shouting, stomping, or even dancing. Tentatively, she moved her arms in clumsy, jerky motions, while checking others’ reactions.

It was her own kind of dance.

She⋯⋯ had never experienced anything like this before. In her family, she was too busy upholding the ‘Wall of Glory.’ In the First Princess Elaine’s army, her life had revolved around combat.

This, perhaps, was Cicel’s first time truly having ‘fun.’

When the performance ended, Karen hopped down from the stage, fanning the fabric near her chest to cool herself.

“Whew, how was it?”

“It was good. And it was⋯⋯ amazing.”

“Then, after the break, how about joining me on stage?”

“⋯⋯Pardon?”

Cicel’s eyes widened in surprise at the unexpected invitation. Karen, noticing her reaction, couldn’t help but laugh, amused by the expression that seemed to mirror a certain Archmage’s disbelief.

Karen waved a hand dismissively.

“Nine out of ten people enjoy performances as spectators, but that one remaining person? They’re the ones who think, ‘I want to do that too.’ Don’t you? Deep down, you want to try being on stage, don’t you?”

“But⋯⋯.”

Cicel hesitated. She wasn’t entirely sure what she wanted. Her long-ingrained instincts made it hard to distinguish her desires from her reservations. But still.

It felt like she did want to try it.

Yet, as soon as that thought surfaced, doubts began to creep in. She hadn’t trained or practiced, and she worried about embarrassing herself. If people saw her fail and felt disappointed, she would be crushed.

Maybe she needed to prepare. A day of practice, or ten, or⋯⋯ a month.

But she would already be long dead in a month.

Caught in her inner turmoil, Cicel latched onto a convenient excuse to bury her desire.

A knight, after all, shouldn’t sing in the streets. It was unbecoming and could tarnish her dignity if rumors spread.

As though reading her mind, Karen grabbed Cicel’s hand firmly.

“I’ve heard of knights who sing while fighting⋯⋯ but, if you’re that worried! You’re saying you’d do it as long as your identity stays secret, right?”

“Pardon? Yes, uh⋯⋯.”

“Perfect! I know just the place. Follow me! There are all kinds of artists in the world, and among them are those who want their music to be judged purely on its merit, free from the weight of their identities──.”

Karen led Cicel to a dimly lit basement below a pub. The space was small, with a stage at the center and tables and chairs scattered haphazardly.

And everyone here was wearing masks to hide their faces.

At first glance, someone might mistake the venue for a different kind of establishment—perhaps one with a pole in the center of the stage—but this wasn’t that kind of lewd place. Instead, it was like a talent show for performers who wanted to showcase their talents while hiding their identities behind masks.

It was a stage that the Crazy Wizard had quickly put together. He had scouted the location, convinced the pub owner, lured in travelling bards drawn to the festival, and even supplemented the audience with a few holographic figures to fill out the space.

Karen and Cicel also wore rabbit masks.

The idea was simple: by hiding her face, Cicel could perform without fear of harming her reputation as Knight Yurensto.

Still, Cicel fidgeted nervously.

“⋯⋯But wh-what is the meaning of this outfit?”

“This is my ultimate disguise tactic! It reduces the risk of being recognized to zero!”

Apparently, a mask wasn’t enough for Karen. To fully obscure Cicel’s identity, she had prepared something more elaborate: a costume.

It was a bunny girl outfit.

Cicel immediately crossed her arms over her chest, utterly flustered. Even when she had to defend the Eastern Front’s large gate herself, she hadn’t felt this lost. Her heart pounded wildly, and her face burned as if it were on fire.

This revealing outfit⋯⋯ This would hide our identity, but⋯⋯

“⋯⋯It’ll show!”

“Cicel’s a little loose⋯ especially around the chest.”

“You don’t need to point that out⋯⋯?!”

And so, Knight by day, bunny by night, Cicel’s unexpected double life began.

***

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