Subaru watched in grim silence as the white-haired stranger clashed with the woman called Elsa.
Steel rang out, footsteps scraped against floorboards, and the room had become a blur of speed and violence.
When had everything gone so wrong?
One second, they were bidding on some stupid trinket. The next people were trying to kill each other.
'And why the hell is Satella, no.'
She'd told him not to call her that last time.
'Why the hell is not-Satella here?!'
And so early at that. She and the guy she had called Ethan must've arrived at least an hour or more ahead of when he and not-Satella had tried to find this loothouse.
'Was I really slowing her down that much?' The thought crawled through his mind.
He shook his head, forcing his focus back to the battle.
The white-haired guy stepped back and only barely dodged a vicious arc that would've decapitated him, pivoted low, parried the next strike, then countered with a slash that looked perfect but missed entirely.
He was holding his own. Kind of.
He looked like some anime swordsman, with white hair, golden eyes, and moves that shouldn't have belonged to someone that young.
But even Subaru, with zero training, could tell something was off.
The guy hadn't landed a single hit, aside from that cool-ass laser beam that sliced Elsa's arm clean off.
And Elsa… was smiling despite the fact that she had lost a limb.
Not just smiling, grinning like this was fun. Like she was playing with her food.
Ethan didn't have that luxury. His face was tight. Focused. This wasn't a game to him; it was survival.
Another clash, and the curved dagger that Elsa wielded came into sight.
That's when the pieces clicked into place for Subaru. As sparks flew between the two fighters, he felt his stomach knot.
This woman. She was the killer.
The one who'd murdered everyone. Who'd gutted him like a pig in his first loop.
Time of day matched. So did the voice, now that he thought about it.
Yeah. It had to be her.
So what could he do?
Not-Satella fired off a few spears of ice. All of them either shattered or missed, but it gave Ethan just enough time to reset his stance. A second to breathe.
The clash resumed, steel sparking, boots shuffling, and with every near miss, every screech of blades, Subaru felt his shoulders tighten, breath catch, heart pound harder.
His gaze darted across the room, searching for something, anything, he could use.
How could he just sit here and watch while they fought for his life?
His eyes landed on the decorative weapons displayed along the walls. They looked cool, so… they had to be strong, right?
He glanced back at the fight.
Ethan, white-hair, ducked low, brushed aside a brutal swing, and pivoted. The blade in his hand arced perfectly, almost disarming Elsa on the spot.
Almost.
She was just too fast.
But that movement… the grip… it was familiar.
Subaru blinked. Kendo? Yeah. That was it. The way Ethan held his sword reminded him of old kendo drills. Subaru was never a prodigy with the shinai, but maybe, just maybe, that experience counted for something here.
'Better than trying to swing around some esoteric weapon like a whip,' he thought dryly.
Not that there was a whip lying around or anything, but his eyes did catch on a short, unremarkable blade not too far away. A bland-looking shortsword, resting carelessly near a half-cracked display case.
It wasn't flashy. It wasn't even clean.
But it was reachable.
He'd have to slip past the ongoing fight to grab it, but Not-Satella was close. Maybe it wasn't too dangerous.
Right?
His eyes shifted from the sword back to the fight.
Ethan had just shoved Elsa back with a clean counter, and Emilia followed it up with a burst of magic that sent the assassin skidding even farther.
For a moment, it was a standstill.
Elsa, apparently unbothered by the setback, started tossing out barbed comments aimed at Felt. Calling her a 'slum dweller' with so much emphasis on the pronunciation, you'd think it was a slur.
Subaru almost fired back with something snappy, maybe call her a perverted nudist or something, but thought better of it. Hard to stay sneaky when you're shouting at the murder lady.
He adjusted his crouch ever so slightly.
Felt noticed immediately, eyes locking onto him.
"What the hell are you doing?" she whispered sharply.
"I'm gonna help," Subaru answered, trying to sound braver than he felt. "I can't just sit here while they fight for our lives."
"Are you suicidal, boy?" Rom grunted from his side, his tone heavy, eyes never leaving the tense three-way standoff.
Subaru gave a nervous chuckle. Suicidal? No, not really. He liked being alive.
But the ability he'd started calling Return by Death… well, that had other ideas. Dying was its activation method. The trigger, the reset button.
He took a breath.
"Nah," he said. "Just a guy trying to help."
That's what came out of his mouth.
But his body wasn't on board with the plan.
His legs shook. Breaths came out shallow and tight, his lungs suddenly forgetting how to work. The adrenaline rush from earlier had drained away, and what was left behind was the memory of dying. Twice.
Not many people could say that.
His gaze snapped back to Elsa.
She'd lowered herself into a crouch, low, coiled, like a sprinter waiting for the gun. Her knives gleamed. Her smile returned.
She was about to charge.
'No more sitting around. No more being useless. If I can't do anything here, not even with a third chance, then what the hell am I even doing in this world?!'
"I can do this!" he shouted, a sudden surge of resolve bursting out of him.
Instantly, he regretted it.
The whole room heard.
But thankfully, no one reacted. No one except Felt, who now looked at him like he was the dumbest, craziest bastard she'd ever laid eyes on.
She was probably right.
Missiles of ice shot across the room, shattering with piercing echoes that rang in Subaru's ears as he began his desperate crawl toward the sword he'd spotted earlier.
A slow shuffle began, table to crate, crate to table, like a stealth mission in a video game where enemy sightlines determined whether you existed or not.
Finally, he reached it. His legendary blade. The one that would turn the tide, help Not-Satella and White-Hair defeat the monster in front of them.
It was… heavier than expected. The grip was foreign. But Subaru had kept himself in decent shape; he could manage it. Hopefully.
He peeked over the crate, heart hammering in his chest.
Elsa had just been blasted back by a coordinated strike, Not-Satella's ice and Ethan's blade, but she wasn't stunned. Far from it.
She'd already drawn a second dagger (where the hell had she been hiding that?!) and launched herself toward Ethan like a wolf scenting blood.
And her nose was spot on.
Ethan was struggling.
His movements weren't as crisp. The edge in his steps was dulling, and that was all Elsa needed.
A savage slash carved a red arc across his arm. Blood splattered the floorboards.
Another would've followed, if not for the rapid-fire salvo of ice from Not-Satella and Puck. The two stood together now, magic flying, panic etched across their faces.
Subaru saw the moment. The chance.
With Elsa under pressure, maybe, maybe, he could step in, take some heat off the guy getting diced up like sashimi.
Surely Elsa would back off under that barrage.
She didn't.
Subaru's eyes widened.
Both of Elsa's blades came down toward Ethan's stomach in a merciless arc. He had no stance. No defense.
Subaru leapt from cover, sword in hand, sprinting.
He wouldn't make it in time.
The daggers hit.
Subaru braced for the spray of blood. For Ethan's knees to buckle, his weapon to clatter from limp fingers.
But it never came.
Both daggers shattered, splintered into dust like brittle glass.
And then—
A fist flew.
It landed with a sound that cleaved the air in two, like the hammer of God slamming into flesh and bone.
Subaru's ears rang like broken bells.
He hit the ground hard, a shockwave ripping past him, blowing his hair back as the crates behind him tumbled into the wall.
Eyes wide, head spinning, he looked up—
A red mist lingered in the air.
A body shot through it like a ragdoll and slammed into the wall behind the bar with a crash.
Ethan collapsed to the floor. Not-Satella was at his side in an instant, hands scanning his body, settling on his arm, blue healing light already glowing in her palms.
From across the room, the old giant, Rom, finally stood up, his deep voice cutting the silence.
"...Is it over?"
Subaru snapped upright, practically frothing. "Gah! Old man, don't trip the flag! What are you gonna do when she comes flying out of that hole looking perfectly healthy, huh?!"
—
My breath echoed in my ears.
It was the only thing I could focus on.
That, or the pain, radiating through my ribs and limbs like fire in a locked box, screaming for release.
I was kneeling on the dusty floor. Arms loose at my sides. I felt exhausted, both physically and mentally.
I allowed myself a break for exactly thirty seconds before I tried to move. Not because I wanted to, but because I had to.
We were still in danger. And leaving Lia alone with just Puck against her?
Not an option.
My eyes cracked open, vision swimming, and I managed to tilt my head through the mind-numbing haze left behind by the drastic overuse of my body's capabilities.
Silver.
I spotted her silver hair, haloed by dim light, hands glowing faint blue where they pressed firmly against my shoulder.
"Lia," I rasped. "I'm fine."
No answer. Just her breath, quick and shallow.
"Lia… I'll live. I need you and Puck to make sure I got the psycho."
Still nothing.
I forced my head to turn just a little more, wincing as every joint and muscle protested. And finally, I saw her expression.
Frantic.
Eyes wide, lips pressed tight, her gaze locked on the wound she was healing like she could erase what had just happened if she focused hard enough.
I glanced down.
The cut still bled. A steady stream of red trailed down my arm and dripped to the floor.
Crimson drops began to stain Emilia's white robe where she knelt beside me.
'Anti-coagulant poison?' A seemingly useless piece of trivia chimed in my mind.
Great.
That'd make things trickier. Not fatal, not immediately, but irritating. And dangerous if I stayed still too long.
I reached up and placed a hand on her shoulder, giving her a slight shake.
Her eyes finally snapped up.
"Ethan? Are you okay? The bleeding won't stop. Did she hit you somewhere else? Why did you suddenly collapse? Are you—"
"I'm fine, Lia," I cut in, this time with a firmer tone.
She blinked, flustered, but nodded.
"Oh. But your wound—?"
"I'll tourniquet it."
"Tourni—what?"
"Nothing." I exhaled a slow, shaky breath. "Puck. Did I get her?"
The spirit floated just above Emilia's shoulder, tail flicking lazily.
"Ehh, sure looked like you did~" he purred. "Honestly, when were you planning to tell us you were hiding a warhammer in those fists?"
His grin widened, voice curling with amusement. "Such a shame, though… turning a beautiful girl into a red smear." He began shaking his head while wagging his tail, "Naughty boy."
I huffed at the smug cat as he flipped upside down in front of my face.
Tried to push myself up from the floor.
My arms trembled with the effort, an embarrassing display that scraped against my pride.
Puck took that moment to boop me on the nose and raise his paws in mock encouragement. "Let's go, Ethan! You can do it!"
I groaned at the noise and tried again. My body, still running on fumes, refused to cooperate.
By the third attempt, Emilia moved beside me, slipped her arm under mine, and hoisted me up like I weighed nothing.
She was stronger than she looked. Much stronger.
Now upright, I scanned the room as I continued to lean on Emilia, who seemed to have no qualms with being my walking crutch for the moment.
My eyes landed on the hole where I'd sent Elsa flying.
Then came the spark. Not a new idea, just one I hadn't been able to act on until now.
I raised my right hand. Blood still pattered to the floor from my ruined arm as I channeled mana through my gate. Heat gathered in my palm, condensing into a tight, angry orb of flame.
"Oi! What the hell do you think you're doing, kid?!"
The giant who owned the building had finally found his voice.
But there was no way in hell I was risking that maniac living through a missing head.
Plus, wasn't that what you were supposed to do in all those cliche shows against villains or monsters with regeneration?
You burn them.
You burn them until there's nothing left.
The old man kept yelling. "The building's too damn small! You're gonna burn my fuckin' house down!"
I didn't care. Not really.
But he'd said something that triggered a memory.
A stupid meme from back home.
One that made me chuckle under my breath.
"I'm still gonna do it," I muttered. Too quiet for him to hear.
Emilia's grip on my shoulder tightened. But she said nothing.
"What the hell did you just say?!"
I smiled faintly, eyes fixed ahead.
"I said: I didn't ask how big the room is."
Then I turned to him and said it loud:
"I said: I CAST FIREBALL."
The mana surged, my intent sealing the spell.
The flaming bolt launched like an arrow, punching through the hole Elsa had crashed through—
THOOMP—BOOM.
A tsunami of fire erupted from the breach.
Flames roared, smoke billowed, and the blast lit up the walls with savage brilliance.
Every crack, every seam, glowed orange.
Then, something insane happened.
The fire didn't spread.
It recoiled.
The flames twisted inward, collapsing as if being vacuumed into a black hole. In an instant, the backroom that had been painted in molten light became a gaping void.
Like something out of a shitty horror film.
"…Oh fuck," I muttered.
Soft taps echoed out, barely audible footsteps brushing against scorched floorboards. Wisps of grey mist spilled out from the room, trailing behind a silhouette.
Then came her voice.
"Tsk, tsk, tsk."
The annoyed sound of what I was really hoping had been a corpse.
'I shattered her skull. Turned her head into mist. How the hell is she back up so fast?'
Beside me, Emilia had the same idea I did.
Her hand rose, so did mine.
Above our heads, a barrage of ice spears materialized like a spiked crown. Puck floated near, channeling magic without a word. I fired off a quick Jiwald straight at the shadow.
Missed.
And then she stepped into the light.
Elsa.
She had been nearly naked before. Now? She was putting on a full fanservice showcase. Her cloak was gone, vaporized, probably. All that remained were her black tights, now torn with burn holes and barely clinging to her skin.
Her skin, which wasn't even scorched.
But her daggers remained in perfect condition.
She twirled one in her right hand with a casual elegance that made my stomach turn.
'She's gonna kill us with her tits out. Jesus Christ.'
I heard Tracksuit sputtering beside me.
Emilia stood frozen, eyes wide, breath caught.
Even Puck didn't say anything.
The silence stretched.
And then Elsa smiled.
"That was quite the surprise," she said, voice still velvety, still laced with that dangerous charm, like seduction was the only register she spoke in. "I'll admit, I didn't expect that. Perhaps I shouldn't have underestimated you."
She stepped closer, eyes glinting with something far too amused.
"Mother told me you'd be fun," she murmured. "I didn't get what she meant at the time." Her gaze slid across the room, lingering on me.
"But I won't fall for the same trick twice. I do hope you've got more surprises waiting for me... I don't often get to play with someone this fun."
There was unmistakable arousal in her voice now, subtle, sickening. Her legs shifted slightly against each other, and my anxiety spiked.
I was in no condition for round two.
Maybe a couple more spells, if I stretched my mana reserves. But anything beyond that risked damaging my gate, and that wasn't a gamble I could afford.
Not that it would matter.
Not against her.
'This psycho is too damn strong. Where's Reinhard when you need him?'
"You're a real freak, you know that?!" Tracksuit suddenly yelled.
"I'm getting goosebumps just listening to you talk!" He continued.
Elsa tilted her head. No change in expression. As if she genuinely didn't understand what he meant.
"Seriously," he kept going, flailing his arms. "Do you practice that crap in front of a mirror or something? And what kind of assassin goes around killing people with her ass out? That's, like, an occupational hazard! You should really go put on some pants and come back when you're not committing HR violations."
'What the hell is this guy talking about?'
While Elsa actually deemed all that blathering something worth responding to, Puck floated down between me and Emilia, his form looking strangely transparent.
"Lia, Ethan, I'm running out of time," he said with a massive yawn that would've been contagious if I weren't in so much pain. "I've got maybe a few more minutes in me. Either we deal with her now… or we get out of here."
I wanted to ask how, but arguing would just waste more time.
"I don't think we can outrun her," Emilia said, tone firm. "And I don't want to leave these people behind."
Her eyes flicked between the thieves and Tracksuit, who was now arguing with Elsa about how high heels weren't conducive to proper assassination form.
"Then fight it is," I muttered.
"But Ethan, you're injured," Emilia said, voice softening with concern.
"I'll stick to the background," I reassured her. The pain in my arm was growing now that the adrenaline was starting to wear off. "I've got a couple spells left in me. Hopefully, she's not as focused on me if you two can draw her aggression."
Emilia gave me a look I couldn't quite place, something caught between worry and resolve, then turned to face Elsa fully, her expression hardening with determination.
'What a strong girl…'
I would have been halfway across town by now if I were her. Yet she wanted to stay, not even citing her insignia as the reason, but to help the people who'd taken it from her.
'...Actually, maybe she's just a fool.'
Puck gave me a look of exasperation, right. He could hear my thoughts.
He gave a shrug like, Yeah, maybe, and floated upward again, hovering above us, right beneath the dense cloud of crystalline spears ready to rain down on Elsa.
Emilia tensed, her fingers twitching.
Then she squeezed.
In an instant, twenty shards of ice ripped through the air toward Elsa.
Her eyes locked onto Emilia, not with rage or thrill, but… boredom.
Complete, casual disinterest.
Then the daggers moved.
She carved through the ice mid-flight, blades flashing in practiced arcs.
Her lithe form twisted and spun, dancing between projectiles like she'd done it a thousand times. She even kicked off the walls a couple of times, acrobatics she never once used against me.
She was faster now. Looser.
But she wasn't the only one with surprises.
Puck, in all his smug, miniature glory, lifted both paws.
Without warning, titanic glacial walls erupted to either side of Elsa, slamming into place with a thunderous crack. They sealed her in, towering from floor to ceiling, a corridor of ice.
That got her attention.
The boredom vanished.
The smile returned.
Elsa now stood at the center of the narrowing kill zone, her daggers gleaming as she deflected more incoming shards. Her eyes, however, were no longer on Emilia.
They were locked on the floating cat.
"You naughty little girl! You're pushing me past my bedtime!" Puck cried, voice shrill with mock indignation.
Then the floor exploded behind Elsa, an ambush from below.
This was it.
If I was going to be of any use, it had to be now.
I raised my hand, shaped it into a finger gun, and took aim.
"Wait, are you gonna fire another one of—"
I didn't wait for Tracksuit to finish.
Reason and Judgement.
Click.
The floorboards mid-shatter froze in place.
Spikes of ice had just begun to break through the wood, now locked in motionless tension.
Moisture hung thick in the air, the temperature already dropping. A thin fog had begun creeping across the room, summoned by Puck's escalating magic.
My sight landed on Elsa, frozen in midair, caught in the middle of a flip, twisting over a spear. One hand slashed through a shard. The other blocked another.
All while her gaze stayed pinned on Puck.
I scanned her naked form.
Not out of curiosity, but calculation.
What limb would throw her off the most? What would kill her mobility?
I weighed my options, then settled on her right leg. Disrupt the dance.
I let time tick forward.
"—those beams?" Tracksuit finished.
The world snapped back.
Ice spikes detonated through the floor, bursting upward like jagged fangs. Elsa kicked off the nearest wall again, dodging most of them, but she didn't see me.
I triggered the Authority again.
My finger gun pulsed.
'Jiwald.'
A concentrated beam of light erupted from my outstretched fingers.
The crystals in the room shimmered as the blast tore through, refracting like a prism.
Fractals of white light danced across the walls, then the beam hit home.
Her leg buckled.
The searing shot punched clean through her thigh.
She stumbled.
One of Emilia's spears caught her in the shoulder during the fall, too fast to dodge.
And then the floor gave way.
A tidal wave of jagged ice exploded upward.
The floorboards shattered into wooden shrapnel, each piece caught and carried by the storm.
I watched as the force of the blast slammed into Elsa, lifting her off her feet, then through the roof.
Wood. Ice. Blood.
All of it blown skyward in a freezing cyclone.
The sheer colossal amount of ice being forced into creation and the ensuing chill brought a cold that burned my skin.
My breath came out in plumes.
Tracksuit, who had scampered back with me, was rubbing his arms furiously to fend off the chill.
Emilia, somehow, stood unfazed ahead of me, like the cold didn't even touch her.
Puck floated down from the sky, drifting like a feather into Emilia's waiting hands.
"Sorry, Lia," he murmured, voice barely above a whisper, "but I have to sleep now."
He turned to me.
"Stay safe, Ethan. Protect her."
Then he vanished, his body dissolving into a soft puff of green light. The particles spiraled gently before pulling into the glintstone pendant around Emilia's neck.
I half-watched him go.
But my focus stayed on the frozen forest of spears he'd left behind.
"Holy hell," Tracksuit muttered, voice low beside me. "I don't wanna jinx it, but… that had to have done something, right? Also, are you ok? You're still bleeding, y'know."
'Hell no on both counts. I literally turned her brains into mist, and she came back alive. There's no way that did jackshit. Now she's off and bouncing around the building, and we have no clue where she'll come from.'
I didn't say any of that out loud.
No point lowering morale.
"I'll live… You alright?" I asked absentmindedly while scanning the room, eyes catching on a crate with a dirty tarp draped over it. Tourniquet material. It'd have to do.
"Oh? Yeah, I'm doing great! Just glad this is over with, although I did kind of hope I got to use this sword."
I gave him a hum as I walked over to the crate I'd seen.
The silence stretched.
The sun had fully set. Shadows overtook the wreckage of the building.
Then—
A loud shatter split the quiet like a gunshot.
I snapped toward the sea of ice, every instinct telling me that was it.
Wrong.
Glass exploded behind me.
The opposite side of the building.
I spun, hand snapping up, Indomitable primed to trigger—
Elsa blurred past me.
Her eyes weren't on me.
They were on Emilia.
And Emilia was just now turning, ice half-formed in her hand—
Too slow.
Click.
Time shattered under my will.
Gone was the pain.
Gone was the fatigue, the trembling limbs of my mortal body.
All that remained… was me.
Anger.
Annoyance.
This cockroach, this persistent vermin, still dared to crawl across the stage and demand attention.
My gaze landed on the frozen scene.
Elsa, mid-lunge.
Not even looking at me.
Of all people, me.
She had threatened me, hadn't she? Said I was the one she wanted to cut open. And yet, when the moment came… she ignored me in favor of Emilia.
Was it cowardice?
Did she sense her limit?
Perhaps she understood, attacking me again would end the same way.
Still.
My body had failed me.
I was too slow to react.
To defend her.
To fulfill the bare minimum I had set for myself.
The boy, Tracksuit, had started to move, preparing to intercept her.
Foolish.
But perhaps admirable, in that naive, short-lived way selflessness often was.
In the corner of my vision, the little Thief, Felt, gripped her dagger in a clenched white fist, huddled in a shadowed corner.
Useless.
The giant, at least, had the eyes of someone who knew what came next.
He'd stepped into position, club in hand, shifting forward, slow, ready, bracing. But too far away and not willing to step forward anyway.
Also useless.
Them.
Me.
'I should include myself in that equation.'
I stood here, watching, bleeding, paralyzed, too consumed by my own decay to pay attention and deal with the still lingering threat.
Puck had told me to protect her not even a minute ago.
Was I about to fail that task?
Had the blood loss dulled my sense of urgency?
'...Fool.'
'This self-loathing spiral is useless. Step from the frozen moment and fight. Do not let this end the way Elsa wants it to.'
The river of time came crashing back.
—
Why had Subaru opened his big mouth?
He was about to get what he asked for, wasn't he?
He'd said he wanted to use his sword.
Now here he was, standing face-to-face with Elsa, the very same woman who had been charging for "Lia," as both Puck and Ethan called her. And of course, because Subaru was Subaru, he had to throw himself in the way. Be the hero. Step between the naked lady with big boobs and bigger daggers and the girl he was trying to impress.
So yeah.
Now he was here.
Gripping the handle of his sword, he swung first, desperation in every muscle.
He'd hoped that maybe her momentum would make dodging harder.
That hope died instantly.
Her dagger met his blade with a metallic clang, the impact far heavier than he expected. His feet slid back a pace. Gritting his teeth, he reset and followed up with a heavy diagonal slash.
It was deflected like nothing.
Elsa smiled.
Then she blurred.
A flicker of pale skin, her body dipped low, dagger slicing forward, aiming to disembowel him.
But Subaru wasn't stupid.
He'd seen her try that exact move on Ethan.
So he kicked.
Straight at her face.
And for a second, just a second, he thought it'd land.
But no.
She caught it mid-motion, palm snapping up to block. The force pushed her back slightly… but only slightly.
And then she noticed something else.
That damned beam again.
White-hot light from Ethan's direction, aimed straight for her chest.
She was caught. A pincer.
Subaru slashed low to lock her movement. Ethan fired a Jiwald, horizontal and deadly.
Checkmate.
And then—
Elsa smiled.
Her bare foot landed on Subaru's sword, pinning it down like it was made of twigs.
The light caught her back, not a clean slice, but a vicious carve, and in the same instant, she twisted and hurled one of her last daggers straight for Ethan's heart.
The blade shattered, just like she expected.
But it was never meant to kill, just distract.
And it worked.
Ethan hesitated.
And Subaru, god help him, was still clinging to the sword pinned under her foot.
Elsa didn't waste the moment.
She dragged Subaru in front of her, using his body as a shield. Emilia's ice couldn't reach. She wouldn't risk hitting him.
Elsa let go of the blade.
Then kicked him in the face with her bloody foot.
His head snapped up violently, followed by a slash to the sword arm, and another brutal kick to the side of his head that launched him into a crate near Felt.
The little thief squeaked. "Eep!"
Now—
Now there was no one left in her way.
Ethan was running toward her, but he was too slow.
His mana was low. His body was spent.
No more spells.
Emilia raised her hand.
Finally ready to fight.
But Elsa didn't care anymore.
She'd studied the girl's combat skills enough by this point.
Knew her speed.
Knew her rhythm.
She wouldn't bother dodging. Wouldn't even need to block.
'I wonder how your guts will look under this pale moonlight…' she thought, utterly calm.
She charged.
And then—
The world brightened.
The sky split open.
The glacial spears that had pierced the heavens disintegrated, torn apart by a blast of divine wind that ripped through the ruins like the wrath of a god.
Time seemed to halt.
Everyone stilled.
And from the open sky—
He descended.
His white long-jacket fluttered behind him.
His boots touched the broken floor with barely a sound.
Reinhard van Astrea.
Representative of Od Lagna.
His sword stayed sheathed.
His eyes were cast in shadow.
And he looked like he had run out of patience.