Dark Fantasy Normalized – Chapter 63

Pamon had never really taken care of her appearance throughout her life.

It was a fact that those who had seen the ‘Lily of Daloa,’ which had recently become the talk of Bondales, would never believe, but that was undeniably true.

During the time spent wandering the streets after being kicked out of the orphanage, she had no means to tend to her looks, and after awakening her true identity, there was no reason for her to do so.

Her noble physique was always in peak condition.

Even without bathing, her pure white hair flowed like silk.

Her skin, resembling white jade, only gained more elasticity with the passage of time.

It was as if even the passage of time praised her existence, acting as its loyal follower.

“…”

Recently, Pamon had developed a new hobby.

Spending time in front of the mirror. In other words, grooming herself.

It’s something other women do too, right?

There was no particular reason.

Pamon herself claimed as much, but the reality was different.

“Do I really come off as that childish…?”

Pamon pretended to be unaffected by Ricir’s treatment of her like a child, but in truth, it bothered her quite a bit.

She could turn anyone, regardless of age or gender, into her slave, yet she was the only girl treated like a kid by the one man she was genuinely interested in, and her feelings were complex.

“At any rate, it’s clear my looks aren’t the issue…”

Pamon was unaware of the truth in her assumption.

How could she know? That the man was aware of his past life as a modern human and had a perception of ‘romance’ that was far more rigid than the worldly norm.

By general standards, her appearance might qualify her as a ‘proper lady,’ but by Ricir’s, it was more like ‘Hmm, do you have an ID?’

“…Still, he has those eye holes…”

Still, she was somewhat willing to make concessions.

After all, it wasn’t her who had the problem; it was that man.

Pamon felt a sense of mission, believing only she could correct his twisted view of ‘romance.’

Thus, she became interested in learning the art of makeup to understand what ‘adult colors’ meant.

The result was a failure.

-I don’t get it, I really don’t!!!

-Where do I even start with that face!?

The women from the Adventurer Guild who were asked to teach Pamon about makeup screamed like artists before a masterpiece.

-…I might need a bit more training.

Even the maestro of makeup, the silver-ranked adventurer ‘Two Faces,’ who had brought endless despair to men with whom she’d spent the night, faced a breakdown trying.

So, Pamon turned her focus elsewhere.

To attire.

To say the outcome was also a failure would be an understatement.

-Miss, you’d look good in anything! Why not try going without clothes instead!? There’s no outfit more lovely than your body!

-Don’t go! Please, please wear my clothes!!!

At a clothing store in Bondales, known for its confident artisans who prided themselves on their craftsmanship, the response was almost arrogantly proud, stating, ‘I decide who wears my clothes, not the customers!’

They were utterly flattered that Pamon showed any interest in their garments, nearly to the point of convulsions.

What could anyone possibly learn from those who praised each outfit they offered as ‘Oh so beautiful’?

So, Pamon sought out another aspect of her presentation.

Her demeanor.

She set out to find the courtesans of Bondales.

-What does ‘Lily of Daloa’ mean to me?

To learn about ‘adult colors’ from the high-class prostitutes who catered only to nobles.

-Miss, you’re too beautiful…

-For someone like you, it would be all too easy to abandon this lifestyle and start a family together…

-Miss!!! Please! I’m rich! I’d sleep with any man for you!!! All my wealth is yours!!!

-Nobles are lining up promising to buy mansions if you share a bed with them!!! It’s all yours!!!

She seduced them.

Instead of teaching her about the essence of ‘adult colors,’ these women, who turned noblemen into slaves of desire, sought to become Pamon’s slaves.

It was a situation that arose when adding the captivating power of her perfect appearance to her very existence.

Thinking back, it was indeed amusing.

The embodiment of allure seeking to learn about ‘adult colors’ from ordinary humans.

It was as if a predator was asking its prey for hunting lessons.

Pamon suddenly realized a decisive problem with her situation.

The only man who could view her as ‘just a child’ was Ricir.

Thus, if anyone could point out her shortcomings and help her improve, that too was only Ricir.

“So irritating.”

Yet, Pamon did not give up.

She tried makeup in front of the mirror, practiced her voice and gestures, and tried on various accessories and outfits.

With the sole intention of making him her slave.

Indeed.

This was solely to repay the humiliation he’d inflicted upon her; it was definitely not an attempt to win his favor.

Pamon convinced herself and spared no effort in all areas.

…This was part of that effort.

Pamon was utterly opposed to using the power of mental interference.

The same went for blood-sucking.

She had promised not to harm him or humanity.

*

“Pamon. I really hope you can spare me some time today~ Otherwise, I might just go to another guild?”

“Is it possible to hire Pamon? She is officially a member of this Adventurer Guild after all. If this continues, I’ll also have to reconsider my investment.”

Never go to the Daloa branch.

Since Pamon’s existence began to subtly spread in Bondales as the ‘Lily of Daloa,’ all sorts of pests started flocking to the branch where she worked.

Adventurers and clients attempting to coerce and plead with threats that weren’t threats.

At first, Pamon found it outrageously uncomfortable meeting them.

But later, she learned they were the more mild cases.

“Hey Pamon, could you spare some time today?”

“…Didn’t I tell you not to come again?”

“Stop talking nonsense. You should come to me, and then I won’t have to come here, right? Act like you’re worth it for a while. You’ve been subtly holding yourself back pretending to be a ‘noble disguised as a commoner.’ Think I wouldn’t know? You’re just a commoner, right? Yeah? I already did all the background checks. This is all for making money. So why don’t you come to me and make your life easier? How’s that hard to understand?”

As night fell and Pamon started her way home, a certain man would invariably show up.

Tord.

He publicly claimed to be the master of the mercenary guild Poatune, but in truth, he was a high-ranking member of the massive criminal organization controlling northern Bondales.

When wooing Pamon, he emphasized how grand he was, and upon rejection, he highlighted how dangerous he could be.

“…”

From info gathered through high-class courtesans, Pamon discovered Tord’s boasts weren’t mere bragging.

The influence his crime organization held in the city was immense; there were rumors that they had connections within the city council, so even the nobility didn’t dare to treat him lightly.

Now, consider a mere adventurer from outside, with no substantial backing, how would she fare?

“This should be enough, right? A little give and take. I like a bold woman, so I enjoyed our time. But this far? If you want to keep staying in Bondales, you’d better get back to reality while I’m still being a gentleman.”

Tord was painfully aware of this fact as he pressed Pamon.

‘What a joke.’

But at that moment, Pamon had already confirmed that her mental interference wouldn’t be resisted by him.

The one whose life could be shattered in an instant was not the lady but the criminal organization’s leader.

That fact provided some consolation to Pamon.

Yet it also added to her frustration.

Having promised that she wouldn’t use mental interference on him, she felt more afraid of his disdain than being disrespected by some pathetic insect.

“Let’s talk about improving our relationship tomorrow.”

The allure still worked.

Even as the vile criminal was overtaken by desire, he still refrained from crossing the final line.

Thus, Pamon let that pathetic insect go.

To soothe her frustration, she headed to the Mage Tower.

Gazing at Ricir, peacefully laid back, eased her discomfort a little.

But the pest came looking again the next day.

And the day after that.

And the following day.

And then, his presence began to linger.

Finally, there came a day when Pamon made a definitive realization about her serious predicament.

The first trigger.

“When the hell are you going to wake up? Hurry up and say something nonsensical like you always do… Ah! What am I saying?”

She found herself missing Ricir’s nonsensical words.

And the second trigger.

“What the hell-”

“Hey! Who the hell do you think you are? What gives you the right over Pamon?!”

A brawl erupted between adventurers in the guild.

Seeing the bright red blood for the first time in a while.

Thump!

The accumulated stress triggered her long-suppressed desires.

If one could say there was any consolation, it was that upon seeing the blood before her, she found herself devoid of any thoughts.

It was merely a catalyst.

A catalyst that reminded her of a certain man’s face.