I Raised the Villain's Daughter Too Well-Chapter 46: Didn’t Know! -

As we neared the command post, I gripped my sword in a reverse grip.

Emily tilted her head at the sight.

“What’s with that creepy grip?”

“It’s a sword style commonly used by assassins.”

“...What? Why the hell did you learn that?”

Emily recoiled, trying to distance herself from me.

“To know your enemies is to prepare for them.”

Of course, I’d never practiced actually using it in real combat.

But I had thoroughly studied the techniques.

“It’s likely the one inside the command post is a strategist. Just in case, strike immediately once you confirm. I’ll look for an opening from behind.”

The reverse grip formed a shape like a fang.

It was a death-bound sword style specialized purely for stabbing and killing, completely ignoring defense—barely even worthy of being called a sword art. It was the kind of thing street thugs used.

Still—

When someone’s truly ready to kill their opponent and die with them, it becomes extremely troublesome.

That’s why, if Emily draws their attention and I thrust with a reverse grip, it’s surprisingly effective.

Swift and clean.

If we don’t take out the command post commander quickly, the ruckus will draw in nearby soldiers and things will get messy.

And if we want to kill without making a sound, this is the best way.

“You really learned all the freaky stuff.”

Emily grumbled but didn’t object.

The command post was a massive wooden structure, four stories tall.

Suppressing the urge to ask whether it really needed to be that big, I glanced at the main gate. Unsurprisingly, soldiers were stationed there.

If there were just one or two, I could assassinate them and slip in...

“There’s too many...”

There were over ten troops standing guard at the main entrance.

Even though Arin was making a scene up ahead, they held their position firmly.

Clearly, they wouldn’t budge unless something serious happened.

While we hid in the brush, brainstorming a method, Emily asked a question.

“But... why are they just standing there?”

“What do you mean?”

“Look—yeah, they’re on alert, but they’re not moving at all. Shouldn’t at least a few be patrolling or something...?”

“...”

She had a point.

I turned to Emily, stunned.

She shrank away from my gaze, mumbling awkwardly.

“W-what, did I say something wrong again?”

“No. You’re absolutely right. I’m just surprised... because you were helpful.”

“...?”

All the guards were facing directly forward.

...At that moment, it became clear.

This was a deliberate trap.

When infiltrating an enemy encampment with just a few people, skill isn’t as important as the enemy’s mistakes.

Even a mutt is more dangerous on its own turf—and trying to do anything in the middle of an army designed to annihilate enemies?

That’s nonsense.

...No matter how I looked at it, this path had been laid on purpose.

This reeked of Charles’s meddling.

“It seems Charles had a hand in this... I’ll admit it.”

“Admit what?”

“You’re more capable than I thought, Lady Emily.”

“Not happy about that at all.”

Grumbling, Emily followed me around to the rear of the command post.

It’s a structural blind spot—these buildings can see far, but what’s right beneath them is hard to spot unless you lean out.

“I’ll climb using the sword. Be careful not to make a sound.”

“What? How?”

“Like this.”

I carefully drove my sword into a spot on the tower’s wall.

Then climbed up and grabbed the hilt.

“Now I grip the wall’s groove, pull out the sword...”

Shlk.

“...and plant it again to repeat the process. Simple, right?”

“...It’s not simple at all?!”

I thought she was exaggerating, but her face said she really couldn’t do it.

Sighing, I came back down and crouched.

“Then hand me the sword and get on.”

“What?! No way!”

“What else would you suggest? You have to choose one.”

“Uugh...”

Emily approached hesitantly, clearly reluctant, and wrapped her arms around my neck.

Her arms were much thinner and lighter than they looked.

It was honestly baffling how she even managed to lift a sword.

“If you fall, it’s instant disqualification. Hold on tight.”

“O-okay.”

Apparently afraid of falling again, she clung to me hard enough to choke.

Her breath tickled my ear.

I couldn’t exactly tell her to loosen up, so I scaled the wall with both hands on the sword, using it like a climbing pick.

“Wait, what if it slips and we fall? Drive it deeper!”

“Shh. If I drive it deeper, they’ll hear.”

After all that resistance, now she was holding on tight enough to strangle me.

I climbed as safely as I could.

Fortunately, the watchtower didn’t have any glass—probably too difficult to get in wartime. It was wide open.

I peeked in just slightly to see who was inside.

“Move the soldiers to Sector 4. Herd that one in there.”

“Yes, Commander!”

Right on cue, the commander was giving orders.

...She wasn’t normal in any sense of the word.

“A-an elf...”

Emily gasped, and I quickly covered her mouth.

I didn’t scold her—anyone would be shocked.

But it wasn’t her race that had surprised me.

Bzzt...

Her body was cloaked in visual noise.

Not unrecognizable, but it was like seeing an HD character inside a 4K video—clearly out of place.

I furrowed my brow.

This isn’t something Charles could’ve tampered with.

They must have locked her out of meaningful interaction from the very beginning when distributing the mana space.

In other words—

She’s someone the Empire itself deemed ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) dangerous—

And the definitive reason this zone was marked as forbidden.

“...This is bad.”

This wasn’t meant to be a conquerable stronghold, after all.

I was half-considering abandoning everything and running when the elf cloaked in static suddenly turned to face us.

Short, neat gray hair. Golden eyes that shone even through the distortion.

Our eyes met.

At the same time, a smile curved across her lips.

“Hm. So you’ve come.”

“...Tch.”

How did she know?

Whatever trick she used, once we were spotted, escape was no longer an option.

I leapt into the watchtower, sword drawn.

“Take this.”

“O-oh, right!”

I tossed the remaining sword to Emily and reversed my grip—

As the woman, voice crackling with noise, gracefully drew her thin sword and introduced herself.

“Sacrarion Sephennity. It seems... I’ve been waiting for you.”

The moment I heard those words, frёewebnoѵel.ƈo๓

I understood exactly why this place had been marked forbidden.

...I should’ve just fought the nobles instead.

****

“F-find him! Find him and kill him—no, don’t kill him, bring him to me! I’ll grind him down in this mana space until he’s on the verge of death...!”

“I can’t live after being humiliated by a mere butler! If you don’t bring him to me now, either I die or he does!”

“P-please calm down, Lady Elija, Lady Cysphia...”

Takraphision was sweating profusely as he tried to restrain the young ladies.

But neither of them looked even slightly inclined to stop.

All that had happened was a fall. They hadn’t suffered any physical injuries, but their pride had been utterly shattered. Their faces were flushed red like tomatoes as they shouted from atop the carriage.

And now Takraphision was getting caught in the crossfire.

“Why did you even let him go in the first place? You could’ve stopped him!”

“...My apologies. I didn’t know he was a magic-swordsman.”

He bowed his head in apology.

But he withheld one truth: if he had known the man was a magic-swordsman, he would’ve pursued him more relentlessly.

That’s how you deal with magic-swordsmen.

Don’t give them a chance to cast. Pin them down and finish it.

But—he’d activated his magic while crossing blades.

A feat no magic-swordsman had ever pulled off.

Magic-swordsmen are supposed to be geniuses who can cast in the tiny windows that occur during battle—not literally during a clash.

There’s not a single magic-swordsman who’s ever done it mid-combat.

So it must be one of two things.

Either that butler is a once-in-history prodigy worthy of eternal renown—

Or he’s something else entirely, merely posing as a magic-swordsman.

“I’ll definitely win next time.”

Whichever one it was, now that he knew, he could counter it.

At Takraphision’s confident gaze, Elija unclenched her jaw.

“Tch. That’s why we’ve gotta find him first. Then we can grind or roast him or whatever.”

“What are your plans regarding the outposts?”

“Hah? Do you even know how many we’ve destroyed? We’re way above the safe margin!”

“But that cadet reportedly destroyed as many as we did.”

Cysphia frowned as if looking at an idiot.

“Obvvvvvviously that’s a lie. You actually believe that? I might believe it about the magic-swordsman, sure—but that stupid Emily and some commoner witch matching us in outpost destruction? That’s such obvious bluffing it’s hilarious. I almost laughed out loud just watching.”

“...Yes, ma’am.”

Takraphision accepted the order, though he sighed inwardly.

He didn’t take it as a bluff.

If the opponent was truly that level of magic-swordsman, it was entirely plausible.

It was probably true.

This wasn’t the time for this...

Even so, Elija—now a bit calmer—spoke between heavy breaths.

“It’s Emily’s group anyway. I do need to ‘adjust’ her a little, so I might as well crush that insolent butler too. And that witch—apparently there are other cadets who’re grinding their teeth over her. She could make a good bargaining chip. It’s not rage driving this; it’s a rational decision.”

“Exactly. Emily’s probably raging and trying to take some outpost anyway. We just need to track her down and take over. Anything else to say?”

“...P-pardon me for the intrusion—”

This time, it wasn’t Takraphision. Another cadet stepped forward, cautiously.

There was fear in his eyes.

Not fear of Elija or Cysphia—

But of something far bigger.

“That butler—are we really sure he’s safe to mess with?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Isn’t he Seriratus’s butler? I mean, yes, a butler, but if we push for revenge too hard and something happens, the consequences...”

“What kind of idiotic nonsense...”

Cysphia snapped open her fan and hid her flushed face.

“Have you ever had a butler?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Then say your butler’s name.”

“...Uh...”

The cadet couldn’t answer.

“If your butler came back beaten up and asked you for revenge, what would you say?”

“...I’d ask if they used my name, and if they did, I’d get revenge—and then fire the butler.”

“Exactly. That’s the extent of it. You really think they’d move just because a butler said something? The Seriratus family is way too big for that. I told you already. Why don’t you get it?”

“M-my apologies.”

Elija sighed and climbed onto the carriage.

“Let’s go. We roughly know the direction they ran off in—”

The other cadets were just about to board the carriage when—

“...Ugh!”

“What now?”

Takraphision suddenly shot to his feet, sweating cold bullets as he stared intensely at one spot in the plain.

“They didn’t... run. It’s too late.”

“What? What are you saying?”

Just as Cysphia furrowed her brow, a strange sound reached her ears.

Clank. Clank...

The heavy clash of metal on metal.

A presence that overwhelmed the entire space strode out from the surrounding forest,

as if she had been there all along.

“Hey there. Mind if we have a little chat?”

A cold, low voice.

But there wasn’t a single person in the group who didn’t recognize it.

Cysphia swallowed dryly and gave a signal with her eyes.

Not that she needed to—everyone had already bowed their heads.

Elija stepped down from the carriage and cautiously asked,

“...What brings you here, Lady Olvesia?”

“I was just going to ask for directions, but then I overheard such an interesting conversation.”

Olvesia, every inch of her armor scuffed and scarred, strolled forward with a relaxed smile.

“Mind if I join in?”

The words were a request.

–The tone was a command.