Head Butler of the Fallen Villainess-Chapter 86 : 19th Days (8) | The Butler and The Thief (3)
Before the dust could settle, two figures tore through the thick haze, leaping straight through the newly 'created' entrance of the lodge—!
Their silhouettes barely took shape before they both lunged forward to each other—blades flashing in the dim light as their battle spilled into the open night!
CLANG!
Longsword met twin daggers—steel clashing in a fierce contest of dominance as a burst of sparks scattered into the air, illuminating their locked struggle.
Their gazes met—one sharp with vigilance, the other twisted with a manic grin.
"Ooooh~! Not bad—looks like you haven't gone rusty playing house!" Vivian cackled, pressing harder against his blade. "For a second, I thought you'd gotten soft on me, Sebastian~."
Sebastian exhaled sharply, shoving back her two daggers with equal force—greater even!
"Like hell I will, Vivian," he snapped, irritation lacing his voice. "And you talk too much for your own good."
"Hey now, that's rude! I'm just appreciating the moment~! What's wrong with that, hmm~? Sebastian~?"
"That's the reason why you always get yourself into trouble, dammit!"
And in that instant—both fighters wrenched back their respective weapons before surging forward—!
CLANG— CLANG— CLANG—!
Steel screamed against steel in a storm of relentless strikes, their silhouettes vanishing and reappearing through the night! Each exchange sent sparks bursting into the darkness, their weapons a blur of silver arcs.
They wove through not just the ruined lodge but across the open ground of Anastasia's region. Boots pounded against dirt, kicking up dust, gravel, and torn earth as their battle spread—a violent, erratic dance of flashing blades and ringing steel...!
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Meanwhile, back inside the ruined lodge house—
Debris littered the floor—shattered wood, broken beams, and splintered furniture. Dust hung thick in the air, swirling through the gaping hole in the wall as the structure of the house groaned under its own imminent collapse.
And those left inside were Anastasia, Martha, and Bella—the three of them still frozen in shock over how quickly things had spiraled into chaos.
The lord of the region, Anastasia, was barely able to stand.
It was not just from the sheer force of the two combatants—though that itself was a crushing weight, a form of pressure the redheaded noble had never, ever experienced before...
No, it was not just that...
It was... the storm of emotions within her that made her almost falter...
A turmoil that felt almost equal to the moment when her life had taken a sudden nosedive.
"M-my lady!"
"Lady Anastasia!"
Two familiar voices called out, their hurried footsteps rushing toward her.
Both Bella and Martha reached her just in time, steadying their mistress as her legs threatened to give out beneath her.
"M-my lady! A-are you alright?" the blonde maid asked, worry evident on her face as she struggled to keep Anastasia upright. "—! M-my lady...!"
...And Bella could feel it—the trembling that wracked her mistress's body. The maid didn't know why exactly her mistress was trembling on her feet... however, it didn't matter for now as she put more strength into holding up her mistress.
"...Lady Anastasia, please hold on," the brunette knight urged as she, too, supported Anastasia with one arm, her other hand gripping the hilt of her sword—ready.
And she, too, could feel it—what Bella had felt. That same trembling that her mistress was trying to suppress.
It made her fall silent... her teeth grinding in frustration.
Not at Anastasia, of course—she could never direct such feelings toward the one to whom she had sworn her fealty.
No... what frustrated her... was herself.
Her own weakness... Again.
However, she shoved aside that frustration, forcing herself to focus on what mattered most: Lady Anastasia's well-being.
With ease, she steadied her mistress, keeping her upright.
They all turned their gazes to the ruined lodge, its walls and support beams fractured by the sheer force of their butler's battle against the so-called "guest of honor"—the Sonic Thief.
"..."
Silence.
A heavy weight settled over them as they took in the sight of the lodge—the very place where they had poured their sweat, blood, and tears—now reduced to near rubble, slowly crumbling away.
"...Let's get out of here, my lady." Martha's voice broke the silence, laced with regret. Then, she turned to Bella. "Help me support her."
Bella only gave a solemn nod.
With Anastasia supported by her two aides, the three of them carefully navigated through the wreckage, stepping through what had once been the front porch of their now-ruined lodge house.
And as they stepped into the open night that was the region belonging to Anastasia...
They saw a sight that both astonished and frightened them to their very core.
Blades clashed—
Sparks flew—
The shadows of two figures blurred and crashed against each other in a whirlwind of both strength and speed.
And for only a fraction of a second, they could make out who these two combatants were...
Of course—it was Sebas... Sebastian, their head butler, and Vivi, the Sonic Thief—locked in a battle of dominance, sword against daggers.
Vivi danced through the fight like a streak of silver and shadow, her daggers flashing under the moonlight.
Each step she took was light—unpredictable.
Her form shifted with afterimages upon afterimages, her 'monstrous' speed allowing her to lunge at the butler from every possible angle.
Front—
Left—
Right—
And then suddenly behind—
Each strike aimed for a gap... a blind spot... an opening that could spell the end of the butler's life at any given moment.
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But—
Sebastian was there.
He was always there.
A single shift of his foot. A precise flick of his wrist. His blade met hers in perfect deflections, his controlled movements a stark contrast to Vivi's relentless assault.
Where she was wild, almost unpredictable... he was measured.
Where she was fast, he was faster—not in movement, but in thought.
Every swing, every parry, every step he took was calculated to the smallest detail, conserving his strength while keeping her at bay.
And that contrast stretched further with his chosen counterassault—
A single sneaky strike that went to one of his sides—
"Got you—!"
"Try again."
