Honestly, I Don't Know What I Expected: Level Up.

Honestly, I Don't Know What I Expected: Level Up.

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Commissioned by Patreon Special

Word Count: 3000

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Ranking up, taking another step in divinity, levelling up; whatever you call it, the system that separates the worthless fodder from the cast is ludicrously dangerous, even for an Adventurer. Now, to put being an Adventurer into context, a Level 1 with good enough training is basically superhuman with or without stats. Anyone that’s Level 2 or 3 is basically a walking demigod that can do whatever they want unless another one of their kind show up. Orario is the only place in the world that can manage to get people up to Level 4 and 5, but that’s because it’s sitting on the Dungeon and everyone here is a freak of nature who’s okay with risking their life for a fame and fortune.

And, people do risk their lives.

By the tens of thousands.

Every year.

And Orario has a population of less than fifty thousand, despite existing for several centuries.

Levelling up requires achieving something worthy of divine attention. Or, in LN terms, getting kami-senpai to notice you and give you something for doing something cool. Killing ten million slimes isn’t enough. Defeating a hundred thousand goblins isn’t enough. Massacring tens of thousands of Minotaurs isn’t enough. An Adventurer needs to do something insanely dangerous, putting themselves on the brink of death, in order to level up.

Some people ask why every Adventurer above Level 3 is crazy and my answer is that it takes a real special kind of person to push themselves past death more than three times. Seriously, you can call yourself sane if you’ve managed to get past death one or two times, but you’re just asking for trouble and looking for it after that many times. The smart Adventurer leaves Orario to make some minor fiefdom outside, in the real world, or be some champion to some country or something.

Anyone who wants to be more than Level 3 wants to stay in Orario for one reason or another, thus they need to keep endangering themselves deeper and deeper in the Dungeon. Their whole lives revolve around the single goal of becoming stronger, faster, and better. Everything they do, from eating to resting, is just a facet that allows them to fight better in hopes of surviving that next moment where they’ll be on their final breath and where they’ll be seeing whether they live or die in the next instant.

What I’m saying is that you shouldn’t think that every Adventurer above Level 3 suddenly becomes crazy.

They’re all crazy to begin with.

It takes a special sort of person to become the strongest in Orario.

And, those kinds of people are the furthest from normal.

Still, at the very least, I hoped that Wallenstein could have a semblance of normalcy in her existence.

Because, quite frankly, people like that are just too damn scary to try and control.

Seriously, that’s all the reason there is to why I reward her for leveling up.

A sword without a hilt or a scabbard is worthless, after all.

…

“You know, brat, you’re a bit of slavedriver.” What do teenage girls ask for as rewards? Money? Power? Fame? All of the above? Honestly, I’d be willing to give any of the three to Wallenstein if she asked. I’ve got plenty of personal cash that wouldn’t be missed. Power is easy too. A few Magic Swords, some more artifacts, and anything else is easy enough to get. Fame, I’m a bit bad at, but give me a few weeks and I’ll have a printing press up and running lavishing your name across the world for all to worship and fear forever. And, because you’re Level 6 now, you can ask for all three and I’ll do my best because I wouldn’t wanna die. But, I’ll be pretty angry at you if you told me to. Anyway, this is kinda worse than all four of those things. “Of all the things to ask for after levelling up, you have me work for you?”

“Sensei’s cooking is the best.” You see, if you were Komachi, such words would make my heart go doki-doki and have me grant humanity another chance at redemption. However, you are Ainz Wallenstein, an overpowered, half-spirit, and blonde female protagonist of a Light Novel who’ll probably have an OP love interest in the near future. Such cute words, even delivered in your dandere voice, possibly with an amazing VA, do nothing for me. All I know is that instead of enjoying my day off, I’m cooking for someone with a bottomless stomach for practically an entire day. “This is a good reward.”

“The best reward, brat. This is the best reward.” I will correct your impudent words without hesitation. Why? Because, I’m slaving over several hot stoves and my mind is being overtaken by both nostalgia and Shokugeki No Soma. Do you know how long it’s going to take me to put that in the back of my brain? Weeks, at least. And, those’ll be weeks where I can’t cook for myself. That means no rice and no Japanese food, because most people in the Loki familia are uncultured barbarians. I can cook for a few minutes out of every day without issue. Hours of cooking feeding you, Miss Saber-expy? Well, that costs me a lot. So, you better believe that I expect to be praised! “No one else in the world cooks like me and I’m a Level 5. Do you think anyone else in the world gets homecooked meals from a Level 5? Or, me? Seriously, you’re more lucky than you think, Wallenstein!”

“Aiz.” Augh. Seriously? You’re killing me, brat. Really, you might be killing me. Being on first name basis with a main character in this kind of setting is just asking for trouble. I mean, I’m lucky I’ve survived this long as your mentor. Usually, I’d be dead in the fifth episode of the first season, yet here I am, still flipping the finger at Zaimokuza. Don’t put that mark on me, brat! I beg of you! Don’t make me trip a deathflag! Don’t think pouting’s going to get me to… stop! Stop that! Stop that already! Don’t keep making that teary-eyed face! GAH! “You promised, Sensei.”

“Fine. You better appreciate the fact that I’m cooking for you, Aiz.” So, this is how it feels to be closer to death. Honestly, it feels like a big letdown. Death is just around the corner. All my troubles will go away if it just had the balls to do what it was threatening to do. Standing there menacingly isn’t going to get anything done, y’know? Being intimidating and making threats don’t mean anything if you can’t back it up. I should know. I intimidate and make threats all the time. Here’s some advice: a few broken limbs here and there means you won’t need to break thousands of other limbs. It’s pretty great. So, please, consider my request and kill me now, Death-san. No amount of smiling will make me take those particular words back, brat. No matter how rare your smiles are, even if they’re as rare as the rarest gacha prize, my heart is dead, black thing that cares very, very little about making girls smile. Now, Totsuka on the other hand… “Don’t push it, brat.”

If I didn’t have any pride in my cooking, I’d say something along the lines of don’t disgruntle someone who makes your food. However, I do have pride in my food. Acquiring, making, and developing Japanese foodstuffs is hard work. Why? Because, I was born into a country of perfectionists. Everything has to be artisanal, seasonal, and be amazing. Some people spend their whole  lives perfecting mochi, yakitori, or ramen… and their prices were reasonable most of the time! That spoiled me. Therefore, I have to work hard to spoil myself. That typically means going out of my way to make curry mix, getting a butcher to cut meat just how I need it to be cut, and gathering all manner of exotic ingredients not typical to this vaguely western fantasy region.

That means I worked hard to make that curry with rice, my miso soup, and everything else Isekai protagonists complain about when they find themselves  in a fantasy world! I’ll allow myself to be that stereotype, because that means I’m a normal human being! Everyone who moves away from where they’re used to eventually misses what they grew up with. That’s a simple fact. So, naturally, given the years and years it’ll take to reach the end of the Dungeon, I worked on getting the skills and material I needed to satisfy my cravings one  by one. Each dish I’ve made is a piece of Japan, a reminder of the place I’m going back to, and the reason why I was turning Wallenstein into a weapon.

You can actually say it’s fucked up that I’m feeding her the food she’ll never have again, either if she dies due to me pushing her too hard, or because I get to the end and just leave her behind with everyone else.

Because, in the end, that was what going to happen—

“Shensheimoarpls.” What. No. I just cooked three dishes for you, Brat! You can’t possibly have—oh kami-sama, what the heck has happened here. Everything is gone. Where did you put all the food, Aiz. I know you’re a Saber expy, but this is ludicrous. This is gag-comic levels of ludicrous. A 4-koma gag level of ludicrous. Seriously, did I just have a panel filled with worthless, meaningless gibberish in the background, before the next just transitioned to you done with all the food? Please, tell me that I at least had one whole strip dedicated to how hard I worked to be able to cook all that food! That was character development right there! Don’t let my thoughts and concerns just be for a gag, dammit! “Itshverygud.”

“What the heck, brat. You’re a mess!” Augh, okay. First, handle Aiz being incapable of cleaning her face. Napkin. Remove rise and other stains on her face. Blush and fuss all you want, brat. This is happening. You might eat like a pig, but you’re not going to look like a pig. The first’s a compliment to the chef (me), the latter’s a an insult to basic decency (me). You know, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’re doing this on purpose. But, who’d want someone wiping their face during meals. You don’t want to be spoiled like that right? Please, tell me that you don’t want to be spoiled like that. My heart wouldn’t be able to take it if I raised a real brat! “You can eat just fine around other people, so why can’t you do this when I’m making you a meal?”

“Sensei cooks more the faster I eat.” Oi, oi, oi, that’s not a very ladylike thing to say, Aiz! Especially with that self-satisfied look in your eyes. I can see your chibi-self with a star in the corner of her gaze right now! What the hell!? That’s damn gluttonous! I might be as irreverent and blasé about religion as it gets, but I’m pretty sure humanity has long ago decided that eating too much for no good reason is a bad thing… especially when you can keep looking slim and pretty at the same time. Seriously, if you weren’t so freakishly strong, I’d worry about your health around other women. The amount of envy that’ll be sent your way just for your ability to eat without gaining a single pound in my world would kill me an instant. Me. The most sensitive guy on the planet. You know where I’m going with this. “So, I eat quickly.”

“Look, I appreciate you giving my food the respect it deserves by saying all those things, but I want you to put those words into action. Slow down, Aiz.” Jeez, seriously, this girl knows what to say. Usually, when she asks me to cook for her, I don’t have much time to spare. Therefore, she eats fast. It’s simple logic. She gets more delicious food, if her plate is empty. Hey, that’s way too sad for someone with your upbringing! You haven’t been hungry a day in your life. Making me feel bad is super underhanded, especially since I’ve made sure you never wanted for anything practically your whole life! Why should I feel bad about you wanting more food, when I never let you be hungry for even a single day!? “You asked for me to cook for you the whole day, so I will. I don’t go back on my word… when I give it to people who live close to me and can make my life a living hell.”

Everybody else fair game, though.

“Okay, Hachiman.” Augh. My heart. It is feeling the pain of all the knives that’ll be scouring it from its rotten, abyss of a chamber within my chest. While you might think that earnest, excited smile with that fading blush is bringing my dead heart to the light, I’m not speaking metaphorically. What I’m saying is that calling me by my first name will get a lot of people after me. My position as your guardian allows me to ward off dozens of individuals who want to pursue you romantically. Calling me Sensei is fine, because that’s what I am to you, but my first name? Nuh-uh. That’s a one way ticket to a back alley with a dozen Level 5s with knives, or Magic Sword to the face while I’m on the toilet. Please, never say my first name again for the sake of my sanity and my poor heart. Thank you very much. “Thank you.”

Yeah, yeah.

If you were really thankful, you’d be treating me out for teaching you so well and making you this strong.

But, such is the plight of a teacher.

All the credit goes to the student.

Always.

…

“Neh, Hachiman, how’s our newest Level 6 doing?” Loki, as always, appeared wordlessly and quietly. While “my” Kami-sama liked to have everyone else know when she’s coming, she preferred surprising me. It’s as annoying as it sounds, but what else can I expect from a god so enthused by trickery and deceit? “Is she still wrapped around your finger, or will you finally admit that it’s the other way around nowadays?”

Naturally, Loki’s quite the clever god. The façade she uses as an unrepentant pervert who likes to have her way with cute Adventurers has most of the Familia treating her amicably and at arm’s length. They never get the chance to look more intently. Landrock, Alf, and Deimne probably know a bit more than most about her, but she didn’t bother holding back with me. Probably because it’s more entertaining for her for me to know that she knows what I know. Yeah, it’s as annoying as it sounds.

“Oh, c’mon, Hachiman-kun. We both know I can get under your skin. We always end up talking.” Much like a snake, she settled on my lap and entwined her arms around my neck. Her permanent smile held none of her typical giddiness. No, when we’re alone, it’s always a small, sinister thing that always reaches her eyes, unlike her usual grin. “Why not make this easier for the both of us? Just pretend you’re giving me a report in front of everyone else. We’re not alone, in your room, while you write in that secret language of yours in your secret book about secret things.”

I really should appreciate what she’s doing. This isn’t just for her sake, so I shouldn’t be angry with her. In her eyes, that deceptive, sharp gaze that adores trickery so much that it seeks to see it through from beginning to end, I was faltering and failing. While I was taking everything from Aiz Wallenstein, I was starting to give her everything I could as well. The relationship I’d intended, of her being just a weapon for me to wield, was becoming more and more difficult to maintain. All it takes is a few words from her and I’d forget my place, my goal, and my ultimate desire. In an instant, in Aiz Wallenstein’s presence, I found myself not working for the future, but living in the present, while utterly disregarding my past.

Loki’s presence here is to pout and ask for her entertainment to not end.

And, I should be thankful for that, because my only goal should be to return home.

Yet, I have to resist from speaking or moving, because I want to hurt her.

“Ah, there it is. That exciting face that only you can make. Really, I can’t imagine this world would be nearly as fun and exciting without you, Hachiman.” Though I said nothing, I was sure that she got all that she wanted already. She’d clung to me, after all. The goddess with the Cheshire smile had felt my efforts to restrain myself, while my thoughts warred against one another. I hadn’t needed to say anything. She’d received what she’d wanted simply through touch. Her feet made no sound as she walked to the room of my door. “You know, Hachiman-kun, I don’t know who I want to win anymore. In fact, I think I’ll be fine with either of you winning, now.”

Were those words meant to goad me, warn me, or merely said so that they could be said? I didn’t know. All I could do was watch the person who’d known me the longest as she walked towards the door, opened it, and cocked her head at the room across from my own. Her gaze directed her smiling gaze towards the crack between the closed door and floor.

For a split second, I saw a strand of gold illuminated my room’s faint light, before it disappeared into the room’s shadows.

“I mean, no matter who loses between the two of you, I’ll be sure to win.”