Rumble, rumble...

Just from the sound alone, you could tell it was something very round and very hard, as if it were made of metal—solid, heavy, iron-hard.

But when you actually looked at it, it did not seem that hard after all, because half of a golden staff was stuck through it. A dark liquid kept spilling from the break, like a shattered glass bottle that could never be made whole again.

"?"

Arthur lowered his head. The instant he saw what it was, his mind buzzed violently yet again.

Because it was not some iron ball, nor some glass bottle, but... a human head.

Pale hair, matted messily against the skin by blood. In the unfocused pupils still lingered a trace of smug satisfaction that had not yet faded, as if even at the moment life left her, she still had not realized death was coming.

Her mouth was stretched wide open, but not because she had roared before dying. It was because half of that golden staff had been rammed in through her mouth and punched all the way out the back of her skull. Blood kept dripping from the front end, while the back end was smeared with nauseating yellow-white matter.

This was...

"Madam Serwyn?"

Arthur sucked in a sharp breath. His thoughts had finally clawed their way back out of the chaos of disbelief, but he still could not understand the scene in front of him.

Bukadi was one thing. Being defeated by someone two minor stages below you was not unheard of on the continent. But Madam Serwyn...

According to his calculations, her side should have been the surest victory, the one least likely to go wrong.

After all, he knew exactly how terrifying Madam Serwyn’s rust magic was when honed to its absolute limit, and how overwhelming its countering effect was against the "steel" attribute. The other side was only some little maid from the ducal estate who happened to possess a Steel Divine Favor. Faced with a power that completely countered her, how could she possibly have stirred up any kind of wave?

And yet the result was the exact opposite. Madam Serwyn... had died even more completely than Bukadi?

"Why?!"

Arthur asked hoarsely, his voice nearly breaking.

"Why exactly?! How did you win? How were you able to kill her? This makes no goddamn sense!"

His setup should have been perfect, without a single flaw...

So why had it turned out like this?

"Why?"

An stepped out of the shadows.

Even now, she was still as dignified and elegant as ever. Every step she took was perfectly measured, as though laid out with a ruler.

Even at a moment like this, she still upheld the maidly standards of the ducal estate.

Only, the faint smear of blood that had accidentally splashed across her face added a touch of something almost madly alluring to that composure.

"The one who should be asking that is me, isn’t it?" 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝒆𝒘𝙚𝓫𝙣𝙤𝒗𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢

An casually played with the other half of the golden staff in her hand, then right in front of Arthur, slowly kneaded the gold into an irregular ball.

"What gave you the nerve to send this kind of half-witted old thing after me? Rust magic? Sure, that magic is impressive. But when she stupidly stood that close, so close I could separate her head from her body in a tenth of a second, what exactly was she supposed to rust me with? Her foul-smelling breath?"

"A warrior?"

The moment An revealed her aura, Arthur’s eyes widened, and he understood at once.

His intelligence had been wrong again. This maid of the ducal estate was not merely someone carrying a Steel Divine Favor.

She was also at least a fifth-rank warrior?

But... where had this fifth-rank strength come from?

Arthur could not understand it. Truly could not.

This girl named An was only a maid of the ducal estate. In all the intelligence he had gathered on her, there had never been any record whatsoever of her having trained before.

Even if her looks had attracted Muen Campbell’s attention and perhaps earned her some of the ducal estate’s resources, how could someone who had never trained before «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» become a fifth-rank powerhouse?

"How are you a warrior? How could you possibly be a fifth-rank warrior?!"

Arthur could not help demanding sharply,

"From the time you entered the ducal estate and became a maid until now, your records have nearly a full year of blank space. Are you seriously going to tell me that in one year you went from an ordinary person with no fighting aura at all to a fifth-rank powerhouse? On what basis?"

"On what basis? Let me think..."

An tilted her head and actually seemed to consider it seriously for a moment.

"Genetics?"

"Gen—"

Arthur nearly failed to catch his breath.

Genetics?

Quit fucking joking.

If such a thing really existed, why the hell would he have worked so hard? He might as well just kill himself and reroll in hopes of being born next life with some absurdly powerful ancestor!

That was not how you lied to somebody!

"No... this isn’t right. This absolutely isn’t right..."

Arthur panted heavily, his eyes churning with something that was either rage or terror.

This ducal estate, which should have been his for the taking, had for some reason suddenly become strange.

First Bukadi had failed to beat Ariel Bugaard, despite being a full two minor stages above her.

Then Madam Serwyn, in whom he had placed such high hopes, had been effortlessly one-shotted by a mere maid.

Any one of these things alone was already completely beyond his expectations—enough to thoroughly smash apart his perfect plan.

What was this, some kind of horror story? Or had he just exhausted himself too much making the plan, accidentally fallen asleep, and started dreaming?

"Trying to ambush this place in the first place could be called dreaming."

Seeing right through Arthur’s thoughts, Ariel—whose greatsword had long since begun thirsting for action—let out a cold laugh.

"But now... two against one. For you, nightmare would be a much more fitting word."

"Shut up! No... this isn’t a dream, and it’s not over yet—"

Arthur jolted back to himself and forcibly calmed down.

His plan had not completely failed yet.

Two against one?

No.

He still had Perfumer Lucy on his side.

Her direct combat ability might not be all that impressive, but if she had managed, according to plan, to control Muen Campbell through her potion, then the current situation was not two against one.

It was two against three.

The advantage is mine!

"Lucy... Lucy’s side should already be done, right?!"

Sensing something, Arthur turned his head.

At the far end of the corridor, right on the boundary between light and shadow, to the sound of high heels tapping across marble, a seductive figure with a swaying narrow waist slowly emerged.

It was Perfumer Lucy.

"Lucy, you really didn’t disappoint me. You really are different from those useless pieces of trash!"

Arthur was overjoyed and hurried forward excitedly. Yet An and Ariel, rather than making any reckless move because of the sudden appearance of a stranger, only looked on with rather meaningful expressions in their eyes.

"Where’s Muen Campbell? Hurry and bring him out as a hostage! As long as we’ve got him, these two women will have no choice but to submit! Where is he?" Arthur asked impatiently. After those successive failures, he desperately needed one piece of good news to prove that he was right.

That was all. Just one.

Something to prove that his plan had been correct, that he had not been wrong, that the ones at fault were—

"Muen Campbell... is right here."

Perfumer Lucy pointed behind her.

"Right there?"

Arthur looked up in that direction, but could not help frowning.

Because behind Lucy at that moment, there was nothing at—

Pfft.

Along with the sound of flesh being pierced, Arthur’s eyes suddenly flew wide open, and he stiffly lowered his head.

His pupils trembled, and reflected within them was the sight that utterly shattered his fantasy.

A pure white blade glinting with cold light had stabbed straight into his flesh. His instinctive fighting-aura defense had been completely useless... He recognized that blade. His intelligence had not identified the origin of those twin knives, only that they seemed to possess some extraordinary sharpness and were something one had to be especially wary of when facing Muen Campbell.

"Wh... why?"

The violent pain and the incomprehensible confusion instantly tore apart every thought Arthur had, along with the relief that had just begun to rise in him.

But he still asked the question on instinct.

This time, his confusion sounded far calmer, without the humiliated fury from before.

After all, once a person had been hit by enough utterly unbelievable things in a row, their threshold for shock rose considerably.

He simply still could not understand.

"Why? There is no why."

Lucy smiled, but when "she" spoke, the voice was no longer the seductive, soul-hooking tone Arthur knew—the one that could steal the senses of almost any man.

Instead, it was a steady, weighty male voice.

"It’s simple. You thought I was the delicate little beauty of your dreams... but in reality I’m a huge cutie, and if I pulled it out, it’d be bigger than yours."

Light and shadow twisted, and Muen’s true appearance slowly emerged.

He was still wearing the same clothes as before. Aside from being slightly mussed from Lucy’s earlier teasing, there was not the slightest sign of anything amiss. It looked as though that battle had not been "intense" in the way Arthur had imagined at all. In fact, it seemed to have ended before it had even really begun.

"Ah... I see. So your side failed too, Lucy?"

Blood ran down the pure white blade, while the Holy Light property inherent to Elizabeth continued searing Arthur’s flesh with hissing bursts.

But compared to the string of mental blows he had taken, the pain in his body was almost irrelevant now. He lowered his head and looked at the woman Muen was dragging in his other hand.

That was the real Lucy—disheveled, drenched in blood, at death’s door, no trace left of her earlier sensual charm and seductive allure. And stripped of that ability to tempt, the woman had nothing of value left at all.

"The blood masked her aura, so I didn’t notice right away. But where did you get this shape-shifting magic? According to my intelligence, House Campbell has never excelled at magic."

Arthur asked the question.

"Shape-shifting magic? No, no, no. I couldn’t use anything that advanced."

Muen smiled.

"This is just ordinary Light magic."

"Light magic? You’re joking with me too—"

Arthur looked up, and the fury that had just reached his lips was forced right back down his throat.

Because the light circulating in Muen’s hand at that moment undeniably came from the simplest, most basic, most low-level spell of all—Light magic. The kind people said that if taught properly, even a cat could learn.

The light flowed and shifted, and Muen’s figure distorted with it. Soon, he turned back into Lucy’s appearance, while the Lucy in his hand blended into the surroundings like a chameleon.

"A very simple little trick, isn’t it?"

Muen dispelled the Light magic and said,

"Too bad you were so obsessed with your so-called plan that, without realizing it, you’d already turned into a ridiculous clown. You couldn’t even see through a cheap little trick like this."