Surviving as a Useless Bard in a Game

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The dawn air was still cold.

At the same time, it was quite cheerful.

Around the campfire enveloped in smoke, they laughed and chatted, sharing old tales.

They spilled their embarrassing pasts to me, who could only be called a new companion.

Naturally, it wasn’t them narrating their own stories, and every time someone else tried to speak, little commotions erupted.

That scene was amusing to behold.

At the same time, it was also… exhausting and uncomfortable.

Various emotions mixed chaotically like a storm. There were so many to sort through, from positive to negative, that classifying them seemed pointless.

Reading one person’s emotions is a flaw turned strength, but reading the emotions of many seems to turn it into a flaw instead. That realization hit me for the first time today.

Either I had been soaked in the emotions of dawn without realizing, or it was the effect of ‘summoning.’

My head was spinning, and it throbbed.

The spicy smoke seemed to continually drift toward me.

No, maybe it just felt that way.

“…Smoke definitely likes beauties.”

I casually tossed out a meaningless comment. Everyone’s gazes turned toward me.

The expressions of Fura and Nisha were particularly sharp.

…Something was about to commence.

Any plots and schemes to capture the Mad King seemed to have vanished beyond the event horizon. Only a few cheerful faces remained.

In this place, those chasing stars, platinum adventurers, high-ranking clergy, and even the lowly bard were all equal.

Everyone sitting by the fire seemed to share that equality.

“I think I drank the most smoke.”

Fura, with wings hidden on her back, began to speak.

Nisha’s eyes sparkled sharply.

…Ah, here it comes.

“Me too.”

“I drank more.”

It was a somewhat pathetic sight.

A grown woman arguing over who inhaled more smoke. Really.

I didn’t want to butt in.

“Cough.”

I suddenly coughed.

It was an accident.

Well, it was somewhat intentional, but still an accident.

It was true that my respiratory system wasn’t in good shape, and I hadn’t even known how my body was doing right now.

I didn’t want to interject. But staying silent was a bit pride-hurting.

This body is the perfect flesh I made myself.

My status was abysmal, but at least I was overflowing with confidence in my appearance.

It’s true that even a beautiful nun with silver hair and white eyes and a blue pigeon with wings weren’t prettier than me.

Anyway, two gazes were upon me.

Those darn men were looking at us with keen interest.

“Speaking of which, how about we vote?”

Fura boldly mentioned voting.

‘…What kind of confidence is that?’

To be honest, Fura wasn’t a contender against me.

She was on the level of losing to Nisha as well.

I slyly glanced aside.

The pure-white nun, perhaps anticipating her victory, offered no words and merely smirked, supporting Fura’s proposal.

“Do we really need to?”

“Words.”

“…Must we?”

In the meantime, Nisha pointed out my formal speech.

Goodness. Is the way I address people that important?

The person inside had already lived over 200 years due to bodily influences.

Thinking of it as my age compared to Osidens, isn’t it more accurate to call me a grandmother rather than an aunt?

Honestly, it felt a bit uncomfortable.

“For fun.”

“Sounds good.”

I found myself agreeing by chance.

It was a simple beauty contest taking place at the north’s end.

The judges numbered at most three and a single animal, with participants also being three in total.

“Wait a second.”

While pondering whether such a ridiculous event was appropriate, Scipio suddenly raised a hand.

‘…Is he finally acting like a leader?’

Skylar remained silently closed-lipped, while Propertyius looked like he was waiting for our appeal, thinking it would be entertaining.

That darn gray cat didn’t even need to speak, leaving Scipio as the last man standing.

After all, he seemed to be the oldest on the surface.

Surely, he’d act like a proper adult at least once.

And my expectations went stunningly off track.

“My granddaughter too.”

“…Huh?”

“She can’t miss out on the beauty contest.”

Sadly, Scipio seemed to value family more than maturity.

He passionately spoke of how beautiful his granddaughter was.

No, maybe this was actually better.

Instead of earnestly choosing who was the most beautiful, it would end beautifully if I just casually conceded the win to a child without making it obvious.

The problem was that these darn women seemed to genuinely want to win.

“Do you carry cosmetics with you…?”

“Yeah.”

Fura casually pulled out a strangely-shaped tool from her bag and smeared it on her face.

I’d never seen the object before, so I had no clue what it even was.

I knew nothing about makeup at all.

This was so unfair for me.

‘No, this is a trial I can win.’

There’s a saying that the end of tuning is the original state… Having played countless games, I knew that saying better than anyone else.

Do you know how many mod files I’ve saved?

Even I, the one who saved them, don’t know the exact number!

But in the end, what I encountered at that destination was a pure game without any mods installed.

My appearance was the same.

Would adding useless things to something already perfect make it prettier?

It might ruin my pitiable yet pure image instead.

And so, the voting began.

Naturally… it was anonymous.

***

Result announcement.

Time to count the votes.

The world’s most beautiful, perfect bard.

A lily on a precarious cliff. A flower that can never be reached.

Selina.

[1 vote]

“…Huh?”

In my surprise, Fura screamed.

Fura.

[0 votes]

“What the! Doesn’t this make sense—!”

“I agree.”

Honestly, I never thought I’d find myself agreeing with the blue pigeon.

It wasn’t that our relationship was bad, but she did seem like someone with lower intelligence than me, to be frank.

Due to the effect on my status, I had serious issues with my own intelligence, and hers was definitely lower.

This was honestly a serious level.

Nisha was watching us from a distance with a victorious expression.

Nisha.

[1 vote]

“Huh?”

“Someone either equal to me or better…!”

“Selina.”

“Yeah.”

“…I think it’d be best if I start using formal language again.”

“Yes.”

Nisha seemed a bit annoyed.

She might have realized that the one who voted for her was Propertyius, as she turned toward him, holding the edges of her nun robe and performing a quaint noblewoman’s greeting.

She bowed to finish.

Propertyius awkwardly began to mimic the etiquette of nobility as well.

The sight of the two seemed oddly harmonious.

‘…Could it be that both of them are genuinely trying to beat a kid?’

Well, maybe so.

Auris.

[2 votes]

“I won…!”

The usually reserved girl behaving maturely could not hide her joy of winning the simple beauty contest, and her emotion was fully displayed on her face.

Those who had been sincerely applying makeup moments ago melted at the sight of her smile and softened their expressions.

The previously grim atmosphere slowly melted away.

This must be the special power only children possess.

I tidied up the voting slips and headed toward the campfire to burn the paper.

Naturally, such menial tasks were my responsibility.

Nisha was chatting with Propertyius, while Auris was receiving affectionate advances from Scipio. Skylar stared blankly at me by the fire, and the gray cat was beside him.

As I sneakily looked over the voting slips, I discovered something strange.

Auris’s two votes belonged to Scipio and the gray cat.

Without needing to confirm, Scipio would have voted for his own granddaughter, and I could immediately tell the gray cat had dipped its claw in ink.

Nisha’s one vote was from Propertyius.

Given that they exchanged peculiar signals, it made sense.

‘Then, the single vote I received must belong to… Skylar.’

I turned my head to look at him.

Skylar turned his head away and avoided my gaze.

“Shall we head to the room?”

“…Sure.”

“Yeah. I think that’s for the best.”

–

Skylar.

Current state.

Organizing thoughts and feelings.

–

Night deepened as dawn approached.

In the dim light of the campfire, we headed toward the room, concealing each other’s feelings.

It was quiet.

Filled only with silence, moonlight slanted in through the broken ceiling.

Thanks to that, it wasn’t dark inside the room.

We could see each other’s faces very clearly.

The same went for our eyes.

Now was the time to talk about whatever we had kept putting off, openly.

After all, the plans and schemes to catch the Mad King had gradually fizzled out; it’d be better to discuss something more productive.

Was there a justification, a reason, or coherence to bring up such topics?

No, no, not at all. None of that.

It was simple.

The dawn air was cold.

That was the reason.