A Certain Receptionist's Perspective

They were a disaster.

Spirit-possessed were, without a doubt, a disaster.

Even if they seemed like you could hold a conversation with them, the elf receptionist at the Adventurers' Guild was reminded today that they were fundamentally different life forms.

The two Spirit-Possessed who had been around were chatting noisily in the guild's cafeteria when a new Spirit-Possessed arrived. One with black twintails and a blue halo.

First of all, this was all kinds of wrong. Spirit-possessed weren't supposed to appear this frequently.

At most, one every few years. That was supposed to be how it was.

Now there were three. What kind of cataclysm was this?

And even setting that aside, things were still wrong.

Tria-sama, the Spirit-Possessed who looked like a cute little girl, suddenly beat up the black twintailed one.

It was a heavy blow that made the air shake with a thud.

Sure, she'd said something like "After all this time we finally meet," but the punch came so naturally, so suddenly.

The black twintailed Spirit-Possessed took a hit that would have killed a normal person instantly and fell… but immediately got up and counterattacked.

And with what? A large, heavy-looking black mass, swinging it like a bludgeon. Anyone could sense the killing intent radiating from that weapon's sheer mass.

Had the final war between Spirit-Possessed broken out in this guild?

She tried to run but her legs were trembling and wouldn't move.

Yet Tria-sama, who should be just a small girl, stood there taking the hits. She was even smiling. What was wrong with these people?

"Right, greetings done, so healing magic yo! Heal!"

"Oh, thanks. You learned healing magic? Nice."

Huh, greetings? That clearly looked like murderous intent, didn't it? The elf's face twitched as the Spirit-Possessed laughed together.

Apparently it really was just a greeting. They seemed friendly.

… They joke around by trying to kill each other. Spirit-possessed truly were beyond common sense.

She thought they might do that "greeting" with the other Spirit-Possessed too, but instead they started laying out a Lesser Dragon corpse right there on the floor.

A Lesser Dragon. A near-disaster-class monster. And Penpen-sama, the straw-hatted Spirit-Possessed, was delighted by it.

Could it really be a gift…? A disaster-class monster…? Something that would take two full parties of C-rank adventurers — ten people risking their lives — to subjugate…?

Then she caught herself and snapped back to her senses.

"W-wait, please! D-don't lay out your spoils here!"

"Yo?"

Eek! I was glared at! I'm going to die!!

She nearly blacked out again. She might need to change her underwear. Assuming she lived long enough for that.

"Oops, sorry Ms. Receptionist. Penpen, put it away quick."

Tria-sama spoke up, and Penpen-sama put away the Lesser Dragon corpse.

Good. She survived.

… If Tria-sama hadn't covered for her, she would have been killed. She was certain of it.

… Actually, with Spirit-Possessed, the spirit side was often the more mild-mannered one.

Their actions were unpredictable, but if you spoke to them sincerely, they'd often listen to reason (with exceptions), or so she'd been told.

But the "possessed ones" were different. Devotees who had offered everything to a spirit tended to hate and eliminate anything that hindered their spirit's actions, and were prone to going berserk when the spirit wasn't watching… Or so the stories went.

Half of the disasters caused by Spirit-Possessed were due to this possessed side.

… But what kind of existence was this new Spirit-Possessed?

Glancing back, the guild master was sending eye signals saying "Please, check on them."

Her life was on the line. She honestly didn't want to. But she had to. Who else? The veteran. Her. If someone made a clumsy approach and got the town destroyed, that would be terrible.

She approached Tria-sama, whom she'd thought was the most reasonable of the Spirit-Possessed until a moment ago, then briefly reconsidered, then reconsidered again.

"… Um."

"Hm? … Sorry, were we in the way?"

"N-no, not at all."

Tria-sama seemed to notice they'd been talking in the middle of the guild.

She really was the only one she could ask. Relatively reasonable.

(※ Starting to randomly crouch, stand, and jump repeatedly still barely counted as within the bounds of reason. It didn't harm anyone.)

"Um, the new Spirit-Possessed who just arrived — are you acquainted?"

"Yes, we're friends."

"… … I see."

Friends. They're friends. And they greet friends by attacking them like they're killing monsters or mortal enemies…

… Spirit-possessed are terrifying after all. If by some chance I became their friend, would I get attacked on sight like that too? I'd die. I'd definitely die.

Ah. Wait, friends? Could it be… she summoned them? Her comrades?

Could Tria-sama be the ringleader of the Spirit-Possessed, gathering them…?

The receptionist almost fainted, hallucinating a scene of the guild overflowing with countless Spirit-Possessed.

She wanted to punch the High Elf who'd assigned her this "Spirit-Possessed liaison" duty.

No, actually this was an emergency. Three of them. Three Spirit-Possessed. This wasn't the time to punch her superior. She should request additional personnel.

"… Ah, if you have subjugation reports or such, please come to the reception."

"Okay."

The elf guild receptionist squeezed out just those words and returned to the counter.

… After that, Tria-sama apparently passed on the message, and the third Spirit-Possessed, Alto-sama, came to report various completed requests.

Gathering other Spirit-Possessed and commanding them at will… The legendary Spirit King? Could Tria-sama be a Spirit King…? Was that first greeting some kind of pecking order thing?

And if she is a Spirit King, what's happening to this world for one to descend? Tell me — no wait, that's scary, never mind. Don't tell me. Tell someone higher up directly…

…

… … Um. Um, why is Tria-sama looking at me? Why is she staring at me and smiling?

Have I been targeted as the next prey? Locked on?

I might die after all. I'm sorry. I must have sinned somehow.

Please make my grave modest.

Leave my inheritance and salary to my sisters.

Help me, gods.

For my last meal, I'd like a thick steak please.

Ma mi mu me mo, ma mi mu me mo…!

Naturally, the elf receptionist was too scared to ask. She focused on maintaining consciousness and worked hard to finish her tasks as quickly as possible, her only goal being to escape to the break room.

She needed to change her underwear.