Chapter 50

Her shoulders trembled violently, as if her entire body was about to burst into tears.

The sound of her own breathing reached her ears, and her eyes were moist with tears. Fiarat La Borgograd was being tossed about by the storm of emotions that relentlessly surged from within her chest.

Before her, a duel was taking place. On one side was the undeniable genius, Hert Stanley, with his golden eyes and hair. On the other was Ruis, clad in deep green, known as the lead. The two were clashing swords.

Her emotions were on the verge of panic. Without thinking, Fiarat gripped the fabric of her chest tightly. She felt as if her heart would tear through her flesh and leap out at any moment.

There was no way he could win. The outcome was clear. Fiarat's eyes blinked and narrowed.

At first, there had been a glimmer of hope in her heart. Perhaps, just perhaps, Ruis could reach the level of the genius.

But the result was cruel. The multiple slashes that cut through the air were easily deflected by Hert's white blade. It was like a sparrow trying to compete with a hawk. No matter how high the sparrow flew, the hawk would always swoop down from above and knock it down.

However, what was shaking Fiarat's emotions and driving her to the brink was not just this fact. She suspected that somewhere within herself, she might be feeling a sense of relief.

Hert, that genius, was invincible. No one could reach his level of talent. Yes, Fiarat knew this deep in her heart. She had almost convinced herself of it. Hence, the relief.

While wishing for Ruis' counterattack, she also prayed for Hert's invincibility. The conflicting emotions were overwhelming her, and her eyes overflowed with emotion.

No, this is wrong. What should I do? She shook her head like a child, trying to suppress the emotions that threatened to spill from her lips.

Ruis, the embodiment of her ideals, the one who should rise from lead to gold. Hert Stanley, the true gold, the shining sun that no one could approach.

—What should I do?

Fiarat asked herself the question again. In her eyes, the two were still clashing swords. Until now, she had always relied on someone else. Someone else had always made the decisions.

Yes, Ruis and Hert. They were no longer here. They had started their duel. Then, what should she base her decision on?

What should she rely on? Which one should she rely on?

Fiarat's rationality was reaching its limit.

*

A sharp pain accompanied the slight whistling of the wind.

At first, she couldn't understand what had happened. It was far beyond her comprehension.

The shock should have come from her left side, yet the strange pain emerged from her right side.

"You... you lizard bastard!"

A sharp blow pierced her right side, and she couldn't help but let out a cry.

She clenched her teeth so hard it felt like they might shatter, suppressing a sob.

It was a blow from behind. Not a powerful strike to break Hert's ribs or to pierce her lower abdomen. Neither the knife nor the double-edged sword had even grazed their targets, and they gleamed uselessly in the sunlight.

The only thing that had done its job was the saber that the lizard had thrust into her body.

"Sir Captain... Dueling with a vagrant will tarnish the name of the guard corps."

The saber was embedded in her side from behind, and blood dripped down, mixing with the dust.

"What are you doing? How can you speak the name of the guard corps from behind? You said you would cut off his head!"

Hert's voice was filled with anger.

It was unusual. Compared to his usual composed demeanor, his current state was surprisingly human. Ah, Hert. I don't dislike your expression right now. My fingers trembled.

The demon's claws were embedded in her side, and the pain was spreading throughout her body. It was fine for now. It didn't matter yet. But as time passed, the pain would intensify, and eventually, she wouldn't be able to stand or even maintain consciousness. This was both an intuition and a matter of experience.

The saber dug deeper, and the sound of flesh tearing could be heard from within her. The intense sensation was transmitted through every muscle and nerve in her body.

"Forgive my rudeness, Sir Captain. However, if it becomes known that we duel with the poor, they will become more brazen. We must make it clear that the poor are not allowed to cross swords and are only to be trampled upon!"

Despite Hert's reprimand, the lizard's voice remained calm and even carried a hint of contempt and sarcasm.

"Furthermore, this one has confessed to theft and, in a moment of desperation, turned his blade on you, Sir Captain. It is permissible to execute him on the spot."

The saber was pulled out with a nasty sound. It was a truly unpleasant sound.

Her body felt invaded, and the indignation of being toyed with turned all sounds into unpleasant ones.

Yes, the lizard was this kind of person. It wasn't that he lacked a sense of honor or fair play.

It was just that these principles didn't apply to inferior commoners like us. He was selfish and exclusive. Anything outside his accepted range was to be crushed and erased from his sight.

Especially, for the lizard, it was unthinkable for a high-ranking guard to duel with such a person.

Her breathing grew ragged, her vision wavered, and she had no way to stop the blood flowing from her body. She had to escape. She had to get away from this place.

As she stumbled, she saw the lizard raise his saber again, the blade gleaming as it aimed to decapitate her.

No way. No way, indeed. I can't let this scum stab me in the side and then decapitate me. That's out of the question.

Strangely, despite the lack of blood and the clarity of her consciousness, her heart was boiling. Her limbs whispered to move.

* * *

The wind whistled.

It was a natural action. She wasn't defying anything or forcing herself. She simply followed the core of her body. She followed the voice that came from within, drawing a line in the world.

Smooth and slow, her movements were unlike her own. Her vision was strangely clear. The lizard's saber approaching her, and Hert, with his blade gleaming, ready to stop the lizard and decapitate him.

But she was a step ahead. Despite a slight wobble, she lunged forward.

A silver light cut through the world.

The sensation of cutting through flesh and fibers was transmitted directly to her hand. The momentum shattered and gouged bone.

The knife's strike, though slightly missing the neck, cut and shattered the lizard's jaw with a clear intent to kill.

The lizard's eyes, wide with shock, fueled her exhilaration. Ah, wonderful. Your eyes should be wide open. They should be filled with hatred. Be as miserable as possible.

* * *

The whistling of the wind echoed strongly in her ears.

"――Ruis!"

The only thing she heard as she lost consciousness was that voice, mixed with the whistling of the wind.