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The Event Master
Chapter Nineteen - "Once more unto the Hedge Maze"

Chapter Nineteen - "Once more unto the Hedge Maze"

In truth… Syron found Beyeth slightly tedious. In the context of the game and dungeoneering, she was an absolute peach. In the context of clearly wanting a more intimate relationship… well, she was fourteen. Syron didn’t find himself attracted to the fourteen-year-old girl, funny enough. As it turns out, middle aged men that transmigrate into the bodies of twelve-year-old Young Masters don’t suddenly like little girls if they weren’t already inclined to do so… which would be disgusting. Syron just sighed to himself, as he knew that she was the only Young Miss to have even corresponded with his mother about a possible engagement, therefore making her his premier candidate. This was likely due to the rumor that he was going to be ousted as the heir by the King. But you can’t just decide to be attracted to what you aren’t attracted to. Maybe in five or six years he’ll be so wrapped up in hormones he won’t mind anymore, but prepubescent Syron just found her exhausting.

Outside the game, of course. It was worth mentioning again that he loved having her play, as she was quite simply awful at it. It made it even more interesting for the other three players that had to ‘escort her’. They fed off of the ‘bad’ and it turned into a fun, light hearted game with friendly banter instead of a serious game with crying and complaining when rolls didn’t go their way. When they were done playing that afternoon, one maid had said the highlight for her was when she critically failed on climbing a ladder. Bumbles might bounce, but heavy plate armored combat maids apparently do not. Seeing her roll and then watching her avatar in anticipation had her tearing up from laughter as she broke the rung of the ladder and fell on top of the other avatars waiting below her. This was done during a siege encounter where the ladder they were climbing led to battlements of a wooden fort and had archers waiting at the top. While they were scrambling to stand back up, the archers stole their ladder and started firing on them again.

Ultimately, through the clever use of burning pitch, shield cover, and all of their allotted heal spells, the party managed to successfully escape with their noble still intact. They didn’t win the encounter… but they totally won the game. At least, that was how they all felt. Executing a plan and taking down the fort with three people and an unlucky deadweight would have left them feeling accomplished for sure… but surviving when the plan went down the drain left them feeling exhilarated and entertained. The whole group cheered when the healer got a critical heal at a critical moment.

These moments… this is why I want to do this…

Then the game ended and Beyeth did everything she could to get closer to Syron. Short of physically pushing her away or triggering an epileptic seizure with his illusions, he tried what he could to get her to open up the distance between them a bit, but she just wasn’t having it. She was a lady whom knew what she wanted, apparently.

… *sighs* She wasn’t like this last time. I do wonder what changed…

“Where are we going now, Young Master?” Beyeth asked Syron when he finally stood from the library table after the game ended. He had spent an extra thirty minutes after they finished going over notes and writing down more ideas to improve for his second version. He had asked his maid squad a few days before to make copies of his rulebook so he could maybe distribute some to the local libraries and lesser aristocracy. He had made the totally unreasonable request of fifty, thinking it would take them quite a while to do. However… if he asked for ten, they’d just make ten and be done… but if he asked for fifty, they might only have ten done, but they could keep working and get more and more completed. It was his first draft of the game, but he still felt it was good enough to get out so that he could broaden his horizons on available players.

“I left some of my maids a task a few days ago, and I was hoping to check on their progress. If they’ve made a few copies of the rule book, would you like one to take home with you?” Syron asked. Beyeth’s eyes sparkled like he was offering her the last slice of pizza.

“I would love one! The rules are so complicated sometimes, I forget what I’m allowed to do!”

“You’re allowed to do anything you want, Miss Quoro. It’s just my job to tell you how. Some things may be impossible for your character for now, but as long as you don’t say something outlandish like “I use my lunge attack on the enemy archer!” and said archer is behind cover on a rooftop twenty meters away… you get the idea. Just play the game and ease your way into the capabilities of your avatar and you’ll be fine. We’re still in the most simplistic version of the game after all. The next version will have loads more customization of skills and abilities. I’m probably going to break the game and leave like ten exploits in on accident… it’s going to be one part amazing and another part horrible.”

“When you talk about your game, you get so… sparkly.” Beyeth commented with moon eyes. Syron just sighed again. She wouldn’t be so irritating to him if he wasn’t ninety percent sure she just wanted him for the title of Grand Duchess. Unfortunately, he couldn’t help that her huge change in personality was an act. But… he is the one that invited her, so it was mostly his fault if she bothered him. Wasn’t he the one encouraging her?

I need to get some male friends… but they still aren’t allowed on the property. Maybe I should go incognito in the town like the crown princes in all those “I am a villainess in an otome game!?!” light novels I read? It’s not like anyone would recognize me. I can get a disguise, and even alter my appearance and voice with illusions… hmm… maybe I really should do this? What could possibly go wrong?

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“Well… thanks, I guess? I suppose I do get pretty passionate about the game. The truth is, I just like the idea of this game, and it is also one I get to publicly practice my magic with. Oh! Speaking of magic… Miss Quoro, do you mind telling me what magic you can do?” Syron asked, suddenly unsure if he was socially acceptable in asking. Maybe this was one of those things people get really upset about? When her face lit up, however, he assumed it was probably fine.

“I’m so glad you asked! I am a cryocaster naturally, and a cryoimbuer unnaturally. That means I can lower temperatures and use ice type magic, or I can get the full effect of personally enchanting my own weapons with ice magic. It is a highly sought after aptitude for monster slayers!” Beyeth gushed with no small amount of pride. Syron did think her powers were pretty neat… but if she wasn’t a monster slayer, why did that matter to her? She did have a dagger that first day he saw her in the hedge maze. Was the Quoro House like the Forresters in their monster slaying capacity? If so, it would make even more sense why they would be interested in marrying into the Grand Duchy.

“That’s really cool! Er… pun not intended. So what do you do with it? Have you ever fought a monster?”

“Oh… no. I’m not allowed to face monsters. At most I use it to keep our ice storage stocked and our drinks at dinner chilled. I would love to face monsters, but my mother would give birth to a cow, and that cow would become the heiress. Well, Cynthia used to be a bit of a cow herself, so maybe it’ll just pass back to her?”

“Well, not that I agree with sending children off to fight monsters, but is there a particular reason why you weren’t allowed to?”

“I was told that in an emergency, I would never manage to keep my head long enough to actually fight and I would just die horribly. Since I have yet to find myself in an emergency, I have no idea if that is true or not… but if I find out I really do have what it takes, I have considered leaving my House to become a Warden.” At this, Beyeth sighed heavily and looked melancholic for a minute before pepping back up.

“I would like to say ‘Oh what I would not give to find out how courageous I truly am!’, but that is like wishing for a tragedy to strike.” Beyeth finished with a laugh, though it didn’t reach her eyes.

Damnit… fine.

“Miss Quoro, I’d like to visit the hedge maze before I go to the Staff room. Care to join me?” Syron asked to an immediately agreeable Beyeth.

They walked out of the Keep and onto the patch of grass they first met each other face to face and started to head towards the entrance to the maze. When they got within a few meters of the entrance, Bayeth heard an animalistic cry coming from the maze.

“What was that!?” She yelled out, unsheathing her hidden dagger and holding it in front of her. Syron looked a little unsettled, but not frightened.

“I’m not sure… let’s take a look! It’s not like it could be anything. We’re inside my family’s own estate right?” He said, his unsettled look quickly being replaced with a desire for adventure. Beyeth didn’t seem as thrilled with the developments, but agreed anyway as Syron started walking into the maze without any further input from her. In fact… he was whistling!

Perhaps I should convince him to come back with me and get a knight or two… wait… doesn’t he normally have knights following him around? Why aren’t they here?

Beyeth thought as she started to panic a little. Syron just looked over at her and chuckled at her clutching her dagger. She bristled at him being so dismissive of her, but she didn’t get angry.

They turned a corner and encountered a pair of goblinoids chewing on unidentifiable raw meat. There wasn’t a corpse of an animal nearby, or even any blood, so Beyeth wasn’t sure where they had gotten the meat.

“Oh no! What ever are we going to do, Miss Quoro!?” Syron said almost mechanically.

Ah… he actually is just as scared as I am… this is not good. He is just an illusionist, he can not help fight these monsters! Can I though? Will I not just die too? Where the heck are his knights!?

One of the goblins turned its head and looked at Beyeth, chewing a few more times on his raw drumstick looking meal. Without looking at it the second goblin, it reached its hand back and gave his companion a thwack with the back of his hand a few times. This got the second goblin’s attention, and it turned to stare down Beyeth. Both goblins then stood and picked up their rusty knives, grinning maliciously at the two idiot scions that stepped before them unprepared. One of them had a line of saliva start to fall from a misshapen corner of its scarred mouth, the effect both repulsive and terrifying. The other just bellowed, its slobber flying out and landing in the grass at its feet. Both goblins charged at once at Syron whom just fell backwards off his feet in abject horror. Beyeth, seeing her chance to run away as they were both focused on the Young Master, looked back towards the path they had come from and pondered running for about half a second before rushing at the goblins. Since they had their knives out in front of them as they were stabbing at Syron, she just lunged her whole body at the first one, attempting to stab it through the neck and hopping to topple it into the second one as well, saving the Young Master. Both goblins faded away into nothing where a waiting knight caught Beyeth and disarmed her before she could hurt herself. She looked around, confused but still on her adrenaline high, for the goblins that were just attacking. Syron started clapping for her rather enthusiastically, all fear gone from his face and was replaced with respect. Even the knight smiled down at her in acknowledgement.

“So… first things first… I owe you an apology…” The Young Master told her as he bowed his head.

“I know this is widely considered to be a rather taboo thing to do, but you seemed so earnest in wanting to test your… mettle? Courage? Well, you wanted to test yourself. While I couldn’t give you an actual emergency, I could give you a simulated one. Again… I’m sorry for tricking you. Good news though… turns out you’re a total bad ass.” The Young Master smiled wryly to himself, but kept his head down none the less.