The Villainess Is An SS+ Rank Adventurer

Trolls.

They were, by far and away, some of the most dangerous encounters anyone could come across in the wilderness. Famously durable and able to survive the harshest environments, trolls were the only race to have carved out a little piece of land in every nation on the continent—and kept it.

From the Principalities to the Grand Duchy of Granholtz and all the way through to the Northern Realm of Ouzelia, each and every kingdom, empire and republic along the way boasted its own little Troll Country. It didn't matter how grand or minor a nation it was. There was always a Troll Country. And the declaration of a new Troll Country always came about the same official process.

A troll stopped to scratch their back.

And then another troll stopped to scratch their back.

And then, suddenly, an entire community of trolls were scratching their backs.

And that was that.

Military strength, diplomatic power and local objections was as irrelevant to trolls as it was to mosquitoes. They came and then never went. And the reason was very simple.

Trolls were big.

Lumbering, 8 foot tall, armoured hides and muscles. Trolls were as resistant to the elements as they were to spears and swords. They were walking battering rams, able to use their fists and their heads to break down even the stiffest wall. Usually, they didn't. They had clubs.

But more than that, they had financial acumen.

Which is why—

“Excuse me! Excuse me! What are you doing?!”

I was filled with indignity as I climbed off Apple, before hurriedly rushing over to the large group of trolls loitering on the bridge.

Yes, trolls were indeed some of the most dangerous encounters anyone could come across in the wild.

They were the continent's premier merchants. Their caravans rolled across the land like an unstoppable force, the weight of their famous discounts and buy-it-or-miss-it sales strategies as legendary as their array of exotic wares and novelty inventions.

No matter what they had to sell, they always seemed to find a buyer. And so the trolls drove their caravans onwards as though they were rolling down a hillside, knowing that a customer would be there to greet them at the bottom, their purse strings untied and their smiles brighter than the sun.

… And that meant no loitering!

Anywhere they went, they bankrupted local businesses. They were an economic plague only tolerated due to their truly fantastic prices, and also due to the fact that troll merchant caravans were staffed by ... trolls.

Historically, it was extremely poor on morale to ask human soldiers to prevent a group of trolls from going wherever they pleased. As a result, a compromise was made. Trolls were allowed to peddle their wares, but under the explicit understanding that they did not overstay their welcome.

And that meant blocking bridges.

And oh yes—this couldn't be called anything else.

“What is the meaning of this?!” I said, pointing to the zig-zag line of wheeled caravans that'd parked themselves in the middle of the bridge. “This bridge is a vital piece of public infrastructure! You cannot peddle your wares in any location you please! I demand you vacate yourselves from here at once!”

Immediately, five armoured trolls descended on me. They shifted clubs between their hands. Not the throwaway weapons utilised by bandits and goons, but clubs clearly hewn from the same rare mahogany that our dining table came from.

A point in their favour. But not one that detracted from the gravity of their nuisance behaviour.

“Good afternoon,” grunted a troll, stopping just when his chin rose over my head. “Is there a problem, madame?”

I looked up. Far, far, far up. Bending my neck so far back that it made a noise which it had never done before.

And then I scowled.

“Yes, there is!” I answered, sweeping my hand towards the nearest carriage. “This is utterly unacceptable! You are preventing free passage across the river! Just what makes you believe that a bridge is an acceptable place to … to ... what is that?”

Suddenly, my eyes were immediately captivated by the most exquisite set of jewelled tiaras, gleaming from an open display like the prized heirloom of a royal treasury.

There was no glass, nor even any magical runes boxing the jewelled tiaras as they sat on a cushion. That was understandable. Nobody stole from trolls. Nobody still alive, anyway. And the result was that they sat undiminished beneath the sunlight.

I was awestruck. The tiaras glimmered like the ocean's horizon, each embedded jewel so pure that they reflected each other's light.

“Oh, a discerning customer, I see!” said the troll, switching immediately from guard to trader in a blink of an eye. The club vanished, replaced by two open palms gesturing towards the tiara set. “Spotted the Lost Tiaras of Empress Halyconia, have you? Well, not so lost anymore. See how the ornate moonstones not only captures the light, but blossoms like a wreathe of white roses? Indeed, there is more than mere sunlight in those jewels. There are memories from a time where treasures were not dug from a chest, but crafted with hands as skilled as water shaping the land.”

“They ... They are rather marvellous, yes! How did you come to acquire such a complete set? And in such fine condition, too! Surely, neglect and the passing of time should have diminished their splendour?”

“Why, that would be the case only if they were not treated with the same respect as the empress who once wore them. The tiaras were found as you see them, immaculately preserved in a magically sealed chamber atop an archmage's tower. Such was their perfect condition, that the group which found them did not so much as tinker with a corner, but instead called upon us to directly handle its transport. As you can see, we have strived to maintain their original state.”

“I … I see! So that's why their radiance gleams with the hope of a new dawn rising above an unexplored land!”

“A poetic observation, and a testimony to your worth as a custodian to such a treasured collection. I believe the Lost Tiaras of Empress Halyconia is destined for none other than yourself. Indeed, it would be criminal to offer it to anyone else. To that end, I would like to offer an exclusive discount. From 27,000 gold crowns to a paltry sum of … oh, 1,500 gold crowns? Between you and me, that's barely enough to cover the cost of its retrieval!”

I blinked, the shimmering of the jewels almost dizzying in its brightness.

27,000 gold crowns to 1,500 gold crowns! It was … why, it was practically free! These merchants were so enamoured by my suitability that I was having it thrust upon me!

Before I knew it, I was wiping a blotch of something that was certainly not drool from the corner of my lips.

“I … I would like to make a purchase!”

The troll smiled. I was delighted. The thought that I'd made such an ugly face break into a smile was likely my grandest achievement in life to date.

“Most excellent! We have a number of financing arrangements available should you not have the crowns available at present. However, should you possess the crowns, there may be a possibility for a further discount …”

I smiled, nodded, then turned to my gaggle of attendants to see to the matter of payment. To my puzzlement, I saw that all my maids had mysteriously vanished, and only my most loyal servant had remained.

“Hellooo~” said Coppelia, waving her hand in front of me. “Can you hear me? Tick, tock. Tick, tock. I'm a little cuckoo clock~”

“Ahem.” Another troll cut in front of my bizarre handmaiden. “Excuse me, but I'll ask you not to disturb the paying customers.”

“The paying customer has no money,” said Coppelia, sticking her head to the side of the new troll.

“Nonsense,” replied the first troll, still smiling genially down at me. “I'm certain that a young lady of your fine standing should be able to acquire the funds necessary to purchase this exquisitely maintained set of famous tiaras for the mere sum of … 1,200 gold crowns?”

I held my hand against my mouth. At that price, I was practically a robber!

Yet even so … I …

Huh?

Wait, why was it that I couldn't buy them, again?

“Normally, yes, I ... I would not hesitate to purchase such a kindly offered gift! But currently, I …

“Yes?”

I blinked, then tilted my head in confusion.

Wait a moment.

Currently, I was … wait, I wasn't here to buy tiaras!

That's right!

All I had were a smattering of crowns, paid out by Marina Lainsfont's store as an adventuring expense! I was practically a beggar! … And I was here to fix that! And maybe also the kingdom along the way!

This troll caravan was in my way.

Putting their wares out in the open—that was an ingenious ploy, I admit. But I was more astute than that. It would take more than offering precious jewels at a ludicrously low sum to spellbind me!

Shaking my head from my stupor, I turned to the side, away from the sight of the caravans and their endless displays of time-limited offers. Feeling my gaze immediately drawn to the reflection of an utterly delightful black jade necklace, I then physically shielded both sides of my eyes with my hands.

“Hey, hey.” Coppelia waved at me, always finding a way to peek her head past the very large troll who was clearly confused at being unable to stop her. “Wake up. You're drooling again.”

“W-What?! I wasn't … sssssht … I do not drool … m-my face is incapable of it!” I stamped my foot, then glared at the nearest troll with my head resolutely fixed in place. “You! Explain yourself! This is not an appropriate place to conduct business. You have no lack of opportunity to devour crowns. Why are you settled on this bridge of all places?”

The troll narrowed his eyes at me.

I put myself on guard for his honeyed words. I'd almost promised to pay out thousands of gold crowns in a long-term financing deal. This troll was clearly a force comparable to even the most hardened of diplomats.

After a moment, he waved the other watching trolls away. They wasted no time. Some scratched their backs. Some dragged their clubs behind them as they returned to expertly looking like simple goons. Some picked their noses.

I shuddered. In the world of business affairs, few understood how to merely confuse their customers as much as they did.

And somehow, it worked.

Troll Country, if it were an officially inducted province, would likely be the wealthiest region of the kingdom.

“We apologise unreservedly for the disruption, madame. We're required to make up for lost profits, and this bridge is a source of income with significant levels of footfall and few local objections. We will, of course, now move. However, please be aware that relocating our caravan will take some time.”

The troll scratched his back, making no effort whatsoever to move.

I almost threw my arms up in indignation.

I was a princess. A princess! And here I was, waiting to use a bridge my forefathers had built upon the backs of poorly fed peasants!

It was scandalous, and if I also had armoured skin and carried a club the size of a lance, I would most certainly be waving it at this gentleman right this moment!

“That is not acceptable! Nor does it answer the question! Why are you, illegally, I wish to add, blocking free passage to this specific bridge?! Reitzlake is beyond this road! There, you may find scores of lesser aristocrats wishing to utilise their pitiful wealth with a misplaced sense of bluster!”

The troll nodded.

“Yes, madame. Lesser aristocrats. And violence. The streets of Reitzlake were denied to us.”

I frowned, still making sure to properly face the troll and nothing else. I kept both hands held to the side of my sides, cautious to the sight of an unmissable bargain.

“What do you mean?”

“The capital of this kingdom is no longer fit for trading. It's a tragedy. Our markups are usually 700% higher than in the provinces. We'll still be in the black, but the ink won't be quite as dark as a hullbreaker squid's today.”

I stared hard at the troll before me.

These merchants were vultures. But vultures boasted a keener eye for the streets than even rats did.

“I've heard whispers of the happenings in the capital. Are events so dire that even a troll caravan cannot trade safely in its fair streets anymore?”

“Oh, we can trade safely. It's just that you squishy humans need to get to us first. And that's a problem. Bloodshed has the run of the place now. The Thieves Guild and Smugglers Guild no longer keep to the shadows. Now their rivalry spews onto the open streets. And your knights are as absent as any end to the quarrelling.”

Now I really did throw my arms up.

“Where are the knights?!”

The troll shrugged.

“Not in the capital.”

I waited for further explanation. None came. And so I was left to momentarily stew on this latest series of revelations.

The knights had, for some inexplicable reason, either all or largely abandoned the capital ... meaning that defence of the streets was now left solely to the garrison?

Yet even so, that should have been enough! Certainly capable of staring down … who, exactly? Thieves? Smugglers? Petty criminals with worn soles and rusted blades against the shields and spears of our trained soldiers?

I was perplexed as much as I was outraged.

This was unacceptable.

Roland ... where were you?

“Please wait while we relocate the caravan,” said the troll, still only scratching his back. “And thank you for visiting our caravan today. We hope you return to see what we have on offer.”

I wrinkled my nose.

The matter of the capital awaited. But this troll caravan was clearly an issue. It was, at best, a nuisance, and at worst, an economic blockade.

This road was a major artery between the capital and the lowlands. And I doubted very much if they intended to move before they'd met their quota of long-term financing deals today.

In that case, I had to use my famed mastery of diplomacy to convince them to depart!

“When will your caravan move?”

“We will endeavour to move as soon as possible.”

“When will that be?”

“As soon as possible.”

“I require the immediate removal of your caravan. And if not, a time frame as to when and an explanation as to why it's not right this moment. Anything less is unacceptable.”

“I understand, madame. Please allow me to consult with my associates as to when a time frame for our departure can be completed. Once again, we apologise for the inconvenience.”

I pursed my lips, narrowing my eyes as the troll stood perfectly still.

He then scratched his back.

Ugh.

Trolls.

They were like peasants … except they could actually say no!

“Fine.” I closed my eyes tightly as I massaged my temples. A transaction it was, then. The language of Troll Country. “What will it take, for you to kindly remove yourselves from this bridge?”

When I opened them again, I saw the sight of the troll already conversing with another troll, who then conversed with another troll, who then scratched his back before nodding his head.

When the message was passed back down, I had not one, but five trolls scratching their backs at me.

Frankly, I would have preferred it if they just made threatening noises instead.

“We'd like a seashell,” said the first troll.

“A seashell?” I replied incredulously, turning in all directions. “We're not near the sea!”

The troll shrugged.

“Regardless, there's a seashell near here. A stream splits from the river and courses through the woods. We would be content to depart immediately upon receipt of this item.”

My jaw dropped in outrage.

I was incensed! I was willing to exchange a few stale croissants from my bags, but this?

These trolls were exploiting the fact that they could do, say or go wherever they wished with neither care nor concern!

This was my kingdom! Only I could do that!

“E-Excuse me! Do I look like the type of person who would be open to fetching random seashells for your convenience?!”

“Yes.”

The troll pointed a stubby finger towards my hand.

I turned over my palm, then noticed the dull copper ring.

In that moment—I felt my world crashing down around me.

I'd performed sacrilege on a precious finger in return for ensuring the swift degradation of the Adventurer's Guild. This ring was proof that any instance of incidental pillaging, theft and looting I did for the sake of the Royal Treasury fell squarely on the guild's shoulders.

And it was also proof that I should be willing to accept the troll's offer.

Indeed … adventurers, foolish do-gooders that they were, would not hesitate to trip over their feet to answer this clear quest. They readily accepted any expedition for scraps and applause like an army of trained poodles. No doubt they expected a shiny trinket or a pittance of crowns for their troubles.

But I was not an adventurer. Certainly not now. And this was no guild commission.

Now?

Now, I was a princess.

And that meant I served a higher calling.

Ohhohoho! So they desired this seashell, did they? This highly suspect and mysteriously placed object with clear positive ramifications for their bottom line, should they be willing to vacate this profitable bridge for its immediate recovery?

Well, then … in the name of mutual interest, perhaps I should be more agreeable.

“Very well, what is special about this seashell?”

“It's pretty.”

“I see. And is there anything about this terribly suspicious request that I should be made aware of? For example, why you would not retrieve it yourself?”

The troll paused.

“Yes.”

I waited for the explanation.

It didn't come.

I placed my palm against my face, let out a deep sigh, then began to trudge over to the side of the river.

I heard Coppelia's light footsteps following after me, as well as what sounded like the muffled giggle of amusement. Undoubtedly, she knew what I had in store for the trolls.

Because nothing came free in this world.

And that included the random shells of sea creatures that were somehow nowhere near the vicinity of the sea.

I smiled.

Yes ... trolls were good at selling. But how good were they at buying?

It was time to ensure that the next inn I stayed at didn't have holes in its ceiling.