The ink on Selvara's guild parchment was barely dry when the murmurs broke loose around the hall. Adventurers at every table leaned in, muttering openly, their eyes sweeping shamelessly over her figure encased in the black one-piece.
"By the gods… look at that armor. Does it even count as armor?"
"It's so tight it might as well be painted on."
"She's a noble, right? Maybe it's some kind of weird high-class uniform?"
"Or maybe she's broke and couldn't afford real gear."
"No, no—look at how it hugs her. That's deliberate. She wants eyes on her."
Selvara stood with knightly posture, chest proudly thrust forward, and pretended not to notice the endless commentary. Inside, the mocking words made her heart quiver with a strange, guilty thrill.
One of the men at a nearby table laughed, raising his mug.
"Oi, sweetheart, you lose a bet or somethin'? Armor like that's no use against goblins. Maybe you're trying to distract them instead, eh?"
His companions roared with laughter, pounding the table.
Another voice, female this time, hissed lowly.
"She's flaunting herself. Disgusting. Women like her only bring trouble."
The receptionist cleared her throat sharply, snapping the room's attention back. "Enough chatter. Draymore, your registration is complete. By guild tradition, all new adventurers are given their first task—a simple hunt, to prove their worth." She slid a slip of parchment across the desk. "Goblins. A small nest reported near the fields outside the village."
The laughter dulled into uneasy silence at the mention of goblins. No one joked now.
Selvara placed her hand upon the quest notice, lifting it high.
"Fear not, people of this realm! Though my attire may seem unsuited for such foul work, know this: my body itself is forged for suffering! I shall endure where others falter, and I shall bring down these creatures of filth!"
The crowd still murmured, half amused, half doubtful.
"She's insane."
"Or she's really that confident in her body…"
"Bet she won't last an hour out there without a weapon."
"I dunno… with curves like that, maybe even goblins would stop to stare."
Ignoring them all, Selvara turned with pompous grace, the cursed one-piece glinting as it caught the firelight, her every curve on proud display. She stepped toward the door, ready to meet her first challenge in this strange new world.
Behind her, the whispers did not stop. If anything, they grew louder, the hall echoing with speculation.
"Maybe it's cursed gear."
"Maybe it's blessed gear…"
"Either way, I'd risk death just to watch her fight in it."
And though she kept her back straight and her steps even, the corner of her lips curved into the faintest of smiles.
Her humiliation was already feeding her strength.
The air outside the guild was cool, carrying the smell of earth and damp fields. Selvara stepped onto the dirt road with the quest slip in hand, the eyes of dozens of adventurers still prickling on her back. Her one-piece armor clung with every step, glossy in the afternoon light, as though determined to remind her of its existence.
They were all staring… ah, how shameful! But no—no, this is fine. If their gazes are fixed upon me, then I am doing my duty as a knight. Yes… distracting them, bearing their judgment, that is my burden! Still… some of those comments, hngh, they cut deep… and yet… why do I feel so strangely giddy?
She clutched her chest dramatically, shaking her head as though chasing away scandalous thoughts. With each stride, the one-piece pressed into the swell of her chest, drew tight across her thighs, and hugged the curve of her hips as if woven by a trickster tailor. She caught her reflection in a puddle, cheeks flushing red at the sight.
Truly, what would Father think if he saw me like this? To be displayed so indecently, walking into danger without even a blade… He would cry out in despair! But… but perhaps he would also say… 'That is my daughter, enduring shame so that others may live proudly!' Yes… yes, that must be it!
The village outskirts were quiet, fields stretching into low hills. Birds scattered as she advanced, the earth beneath her boots soft with dew. Yet soon, faint noises broke the stillness—grunts, cackles, the clattering of crude weapons.
Selvara's heart leapt.
Ah… already? The goblins? How swift fate is! My very first quest in this new world, and already I shall meet its most detested creatures. My body trembles not with fear, but with anticipation. To be tested so soon—it is a cruel gift from the heavens! I must not fail…
Through the brush ahead, she glimpsed them. Small, hunched figures, mottled green skin and twisted faces. A handful of goblins scavenging near a broken fence, their yellow eyes darting about.
She stopped, straightened her posture, and thrust out her chest as though facing an enemy knight instead of crude vermin.
"Hear me, vile creatures!" she declared, voice ringing across the field. "I, Selvara Draymore, shall be your opponent! Do your worst—strike, tear, humiliate! My body shall bear it all in the name of righteousness!"
The goblins snapped their heads toward her, snarling. Their laughter echoed, cruel and mocking, but they began to approach with weapons raised.
Inside, her heart was hammering.
They are smaller than I imagined, and yet… so dreadful up close… ah, how their eyes leer… do they find amusement in me, just as the men in the guild did? Is this truly what awaits me in this world—endless shame, endless mockery? …Ah, yes! Then let it come! For if shame is my path to glory, I shall walk it proudly!
She spread her arms, defenseless, inviting the first clash. The cursed armor shimmered faintly in the dim light, promising both weakness and strength, as her first true battle in this new world began.