Chapter 87

Princess-style Dungeon Attack (3)
A group of men and women advanced through the dimly lit dungeon. The party consisted of a somewhat diverse mix: one female hybrid with beastfolk origins, six human girls, one boy, and an elderly dwarf. However, they rarely engaged in combat.

This dungeon was man-made, and no monsters appeared. The only potential threat was the occasional golem, but the princess's pet (a familiar) was clearing them out ahead of the group, so they encountered enemies only about once every thirty minutes. On the first day, they had overwhelmed the golems and harvested traps for resources using weapons crafted by Alicetia and Grantz, but today was different.

Before them, a tank-type golem equipped with continuous tracks was moving forward, destroying any approaching golems with its armament. This was now Alicetia's domain. The other members were merely collecting golem fragments and traps identified as resources.

If adventurers were to witness this scene, they would be outraged. In this world, there are convenient magic tools known as storage bags, which can hold a lot without changing weight. However, only top-tier merchants or exceptionally skilled adventurers possess them, thus limiting how much one can carry. Yet Alicetia's Treasury could easily accommodate everything from this dungeon. As such, they could take back everything they found. Currently, the Treasury rights had been temporarily transferred to Gilbert, while Alicetia was floating, wrapped in a blanket, asleep. A rope was tied around Alicetia's body and attached to Coote’s tail, enabling her to be carried. However, Alicetia was also wearing something similar to a helmet.

"Is she okay like that?"

"Apparently, she can't hear much from outside."

"Make sure no enemies get close. That flying thing is dangerous."

A cord was tied to Alicetia's hand, at the end of which a yellow chick was flying around, chirping. Normally, chicks can't fly, but this was a magic tool modeled after a chick.

It was the first magic tool Alicetia had created out of frustration from the continuous night-time attacks. It was named Piyorist. It specialized in self-destructive attacks for excessive defense. Though it self-destructed, the main body remained intact. The magic consumed in the explosion was replenished through the cord, making it a bizarre magic tool. But its terror didn't end there.

"Why do you look so pale? Alicetia is just sleeping, right?"

Anon’s question was reasonable. Normally, it would be a convenient tool for automatically intercepting enemies, and it didn't wear out with use.

"I see, you didn't know. Well, you'll find out eventually, so I'll tell you. Alicetia has a terrible wake-up temper. So much so that she exhibits power surpassing our Father's. Even our renowned Hero of a Father couldn't resist and ended up being thrown out the window or embedded in the wall every time. The danger of this thing is that it triggers her wake-up temper. And it does so with a high probability."

"The princess is called a Saintess, but she has another title as well: 'The Slumbering Tyrant Princess.' She's generally kind, but you must never anger her. She is, after all, the daughter of a Hero. When that thing was active, we often saw the gruesome fate of infiltrators. Moreover, the princess usually doesn't remember anything. In Arland, forcibly waking the sleeping princess is considered a taboo."

Despite usually being quite unfit for physical activity, Alicetia is terrifying upon waking. Alicia had a realization: there's no need for a proxy. Frankly, she is scarier than any proxy.

"Alice..."

Anon stared into the distance. She had learned of her friend's dark side. However, knowing she herself was secretly considered the most prodigious yet problematic child in Ostland, she chose not to pursue the matter further. Instead, she tucked away the knowledge of her friend's dark side into her small heart.

They continued onward, never looking back at the sleeping beast behind them. Alicetia’s sleeping face, presumably a mix of elegance and cuteness befitting a princess (though only her mouth was visible due to the soundproof helmet), appeared to them as nothing short of a sleeping beast or demon. Yet, despite this, Draconia still charged in every morning...

"Uwah?"

"Have you woken up?"

"Good morning... What time is it now?"

I woke up and removed my helmet to find Alicia and the others looking somehow relieved. The maids... were preparing a meal. Anon and my brother were practicing their swings outside the window. It seems like we were in a hut inside the Treasury.

"It's about 11 o'clock. We entered the treasury a bit early to have lunch."

I see. I won't need Piyorist for a while. I deactivate its functions, sealed it in a holy shroud, and placed it on a shelf in the hut. This will prevent any accidental activations. Next, I untied the rope that was still attached to Mr. Coote’s tail. He seemed quite happy about it, wagging his tail energetically. As I petted his back and apologized, he closed his eyes and fell asleep. He must have been concentrating to ensure I wasn't harmed.

"Where's my Master?"

"He's producing more ammunition, apparently. He said there's a shortage of stock, and he's working on a setup to attach spare magazines to the back of the golem tank... You shouldn't go, though. Let's stay calm today. Otherwise, it won't count as a proper rest."

"Muuh."

"Grumbling won't change my mind. You lack self-control, Princess. Try to remember how you were in the past. You were as quiet as a borrowed cat during your training..."

With Alicia's nagging, I ended up not being able to help my Master.

"The size is still an issue. If we make a 10-meter class giant golem, we can pack in a corresponding amount of ammunition."

"Nom, nom. But that won't fit into the dungeon. Besides, if we secure the budget, the current setup is sufficient. Bigger means an easier target for bombers."

"Still, you're the only one who can make bombers in this world. So it could be decades before it's a concern, right?"

"Budget is limited. Making a giant ship and applying 'preservation' to it is more than enough."

We discussed modification plans for the golem tank over our meal. It seems the Master aims to create weapons fit for a world teeming with space colonies. Even on the ground, they would just get bombed out of existence. It's not practical. Given production constraints, our current setup is adequate. We can always create golems for supply purposes, and even if they get destroyed, it won't hurt our resources too much.

"Alice, you know~ talking idly during meals is not good manners. You are a princess, after all."

"At home, we prefer family meals where everyone can chat. Father dislikes quiet meals because they feel lonely."

We try to have family meals as much as possible. Despite being busy, my Father's belief is that family should always be together. Therefore, we talk about our day and share interesting stories while eating. Of course, we must still observe proper etiquette. Thus, slouching or dropping food is strictly forbidden. Big brother also joins in on the conversation as usual.

"I feel like I was born in the wrong country. In Arland, I wouldn't be seen as a problem child or public enemy."

"At least they wouldn't allow you to cut your hair. It's a symbol of nobility, in a way. I also want to cut mine because it's a nuisance every morning."

"Alice, you look good with long hair, so it's fine for you. I was always called a feral child."

That must be because you neglected your hair care. After all, this world doesn't have conditioner. I use a special magic tool, but it's quite expensive. Even as magic tools go, luxury items are costly. I made it myself, though.

"Princess, you always intend to cut your hair at any opportunity. Please stop that; I really can't protect you on this matter. As a member of the Royal family, even if you're an independent branch, you're still under the protection of the Royal family, so you can't escape the Queen's eyes."

Well, the only way to inherit the house before coming of age is to have a guardian. In my case, my family is my guardian. Naturally, I can't publicly oppose them. That would be considered treason in a way. It's a troublesome arrangement, really just a nominal independence.

It seems they advanced to the sixth level while I was sleeping. If the records are accurate, this dungeon has twenty levels in total. However, it's uncertain if that's true, as it's based on some vague historical documents. Technologically, it seems difficult to go beyond that. Considering all the elements and the budget indications, it seems reasonable.

After finishing our meal, the Woofers Squad ran out of the gate again. Well then, let's proceed to the next level.