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“Hot, passionate kissing time! I’ll gobble you up, you cutie pie!”

Opening her mouth, lined with rows of sharp teeth, Tiana rushed forward, drooling profusely as she — quite literally uttering killer pick-up lines — extended her arms wide.

Terrified of being devoured in more ways than one, Cestlavie dodged instinctively, throwing himself to the ground and activating three consecutive spells while narrowly evading. Small lightning orbs manifested.

The massive figure of Tiana, charging in a literal frenzy, surged past the side of the young priest by a hair’s breadth, plowing through about ten large trees in the forest, along with several orcs and goblins in her path, finally coming to a halt amidst a cloud of dust and earth.

“Gufugufu. No need to be ashamed, darling. All I want is to embrace you tight and kiss you dearly.”

Tiana, blushing as she turned around, encouraged and waved her forelegs—no, arms—crossing them vigorously in front of her belly in a show of confidence. The area hit directly by the lightning orbs was slightly singed, with her fur showing some scorching, yet she seemed perfectly fine—more like she hadn’t even noticed she was attacked.

“…I see,” Cestlavie nodded knowingly, his stance halted as he trod on the ground.

He understood well enough. Words won’t reach this one.

With that strength, he’d probably be squeezed like a wrung-out rag in her arms. Well, humans die eventually, and he was, after all, a clergyman. While somewhat prepared—incidentally, despite being a priest, Cestlavie believed in absolutely nothing about the afterlife. His stance was a bit cold, which was “you’d know once you die,”—being sent to the heavens by being embraced by an aroused female orc and snapped in half like a dry fishbone was a tragedy he’d want to avoid at all cost.

(The fastest way to get out of this situation is to kill that thing, but…)

At the end of the day, the morale of the orc legion hinged greatly on the charisma emanating from the Leader right before them. Conversely, if Cestlavie somehow managed to deal with it, it might lead to a complete collapse of the structure of the legion.

(The main issue is that I don’t have the strength to defeat it.)

His instincts screamed at him to flee. Simultaneously, his reasons accurately concluded one thing—that escaping is impossible.

Desperately trying to recover some of the magical energy lost in the prior battles, Cestlavie gathered the magicules present in the air, but under the current circumstances, he only had enough for a single shot of a fully powered Magic Art. Maybe three or four medium-sized spells at best.

Taking down a high orc was feasible, but against a Leader, he simply lacked strength. However, if he were to solely focus on fleeing…

Cestlavie caught a glimpse of the crowd of orcs and goblins surrounding him. The group, having completely repositioned themselves, was slowly closing in, each holding a weapon in hand. If things continued as they were, it wouldn’t be long before he’d be overwhelmed by their sheer numbers and left in a severely disadvantaged position.

“Orcs! This is the dramatic stage for me and my darling! Don’t be so tactless and get out of my way! I will not allow you to come any closer!”

Receiving a resounding roar that echoed through their guts, the orcs surrounding the area hastily distanced themselves.

Within the forest, where trees had been thoroughly destroyed and the ground was upturned, the area he was in had turned into a clear and open space almost like a playground. It provided enough room to move around, but on the flip side, it meant there was nowhere to hide or escape.

(Phew, that was close. If I can avoid being overwhelmed by their numbers, I might just manage to get out of this with a simple escape plan.)

At a point where it seemed like a dead end, Cestlavie felt a glimmer of hope and clung to it, almost dancing inwardly with relief.

“Just so you know. If you try to escape, then I will get to the strange girl you were with and tear her limb from limb.”

Tiana’s nose twitched, and her fangs twisted as she looked up in the direction of a large, tall tree deep in the forest.

Cestlavie was silenced by that threatening line.

He had only met that girl mere hours ago, a chance encounter and nothing more. Well, she might be someone from his childhood memories… However, even if that was the case, he was not emotionally attached to her enough to risk his life for her. Besides, being a clergy member doesn’t imply overflowing compassion or room for negotiation.

His only worry was that if it was discovered that he left an imperial noble to die, a poor priest like himself, with no authority or backing, would lose his head at the drop of a hat. However, as long as there were no witnesses, he’d just need to play dumb and he’d be safe—

“—?!”

Wait, no, there was a witness. The man who took Jill away earlier, posing as a merchant, was clearly no ordinary person. Both Cestlavie and Jill always had their Search Art active, yet he remained undetected, swiftly neutralized one of them, and incapacitated a Divine Beast—this individual was an incredibly skilled operative.

(His words suggested I might be their target, and there’s a fifty-fifty chance it’s true.)

Either he was hired by someone in the Church who found Cestlavie a massive pain, or he was hired by someone in the aristocracy who’d benefit from Jill being out of the picture, and he was lying when he said Jill wasn’t his target. …Seeing that they knew each other, the second option sounded more likely.

However, if Cestlavie was indeed the target, then this was a dire situation. Even if he, somehow, managed to get through this situation unscathed, the problem lies afterward. If word got out that he left an Imperial noblewoman barely of age to die to escape all on his own—it was only natural he would face a felony charge due to political gamesmanship. He would be extremely lucky if he was merely excommunicated.

With an unwittingly deep sigh, Cestlavie readied all remaining talismans and Jill’s magic wand, steeling himself for what might come next.

“Bye-bye, see you tomorrow! Tomorrow, for sure, I’ll be able to use magic.”
“Very well then. Once we’re through this fiasco safely, you will teach me how to make and use those cards, and that’s a promise. Is that okay?”

The girl of his childhood memories and Jill of earlier. As the words of promise they exchanged coincide perfectly, a wry smile appeared on Cestlavie’s cheeks.

“…You’re right. Let’s keep the promise, this time.”

Author’s Note:

The title “Dark Princess” is generally associated with the Grimm fairy tale “The Princess in the Coffin and the Guards.” For some reason, the title becomes “Dark Princess” depending on the book. It has a happy ending in the end…if you can call it one.

Also, please note that it’s not modeled after a certain Crimson, so please excuse any misconceptions.

Translator’s Note:

Yeah, I can’t find the tale. A princess/noble lady/fair woman entering a casket/coffin would be either Snow White (Schneewittchen) or The Glass Coffin (Der gläserne Sarg). A woman involved with rugged men/guards and a cemetery/mausoleum might allude to alternative versions of The Robber Bridegroom (Der Räuberbräutigam).

From my understanding, in the 1857 version, the bride is a daughter of a simple miller, and the bridegroom is a rich suitor who turns out to be member of a band of cannibal robbers, but in the 1812 version, the bridegroom is a prince and the bride is a princess.

It could very well be an amalgam of two stories. Either way, I’m not spending any extra effort looking for it.