——The royal capital was drowning in chaos.
Holy clashed with unholy in every corner.
The battlefield where Gazef fought was not the only one.
Here, too, a fierce life-or-death struggle was unfolding—
a battle of warrior-maidens.
"Ahahahahahahahahahaha!"
"D-damn…!"
Gagaran felt an urgency she had never known.
She had always possessed absolute confidence in her close-quarters combat—
yet now she was being played with.
No matter how she swung her warhammer—
it didn't land.
It didn't even graze her enemy.
"Tch—laaaah!!!"
Her beloved hammer came crashing down,
cleaving through where her target should have been—
and smashed only the stone pavement beneath.
The ground split like a spiderweb and caved inward—
a testament to Gagaran's monstrous strength.
"Gagaran, above!"
At Tia's warning, Gagaran snapped her gaze upward.
Against the silver moon,
a cat-eyed woman descended in a graceful, predatory leap—
a stiletto in her hand,
her lips curled in an eerie crescent smile
as she plunged down at Gagaran's face.
"You're too damn slow!!!"
"Gh…!"
Her speed was terrifying.
The stiletto darted straight for Gagaran's eye.
Gagaran twisted her head aside by a hair's breadth,
then threw a rising punch toward the airborne woman—
"——Dodge."
Her fist hit nothing.
Suspended midair,
the woman bent and flowed with inhuman grace,
as though her body were liquid.
Then she planted a boot on Gagaran's chest,
sprang backward,
and twisted like a cat mid-flip,
landing lightly as a feather.
Not a movement wasted.
The difference in level was undeniable.
"You alright, Gagaran?"
"Yeah… but damn.
There's no way she's human.
Where the hell was Eight Fingers hiding a monster like this?"
A cold sweat ran down Gagaran's back
as she wiped the thin cut left on her cheek.
The woman—Clementine—twirled her stiletto, smiling lightly.
"Adamantite-class adventurer team, Blue Rose…
I honestly thought you'd be a liiiittle tougher, you know?
Kinda disappointing."
"You look real smug, bitch.
Who the hell are you?
You ain't normal."
"Who knows?
Even I don't really know what I am anymore."
Her grin was pure unpleasantness.
Gagaran could not remember the last time a human—
no, a humanoid—
had toyed with her like this.
(She's looking down on us…)
Her grip tightened.
For someone wielding a massive weapon,
an opponent this agile was the worst possible matchup.
A straight fight meant only one thing—
a slow, inevitable defeat.
"Oi, Tia.
Back me up.
Stop her for even a moment.
While you do, I'll smash that grinning face in."
"…Understood.
But I won't last long."
"I know."
The two exchanged a brief glance.
Clementine seemed content to watch.
"Strategy meeting over?"
"…Yeah. Sorry to keep you waiting."
"Oh suuuure~ Then leeeet's go—"
Clementine's body wavered—
like heat distortion.
Just before she sprang:
Tia rushed forward.
"Shadow Skill: Duplication."
Her ninjutsu activated.
A clone slid out of her shadow like ink rising from the floor.
Both Tias darted low across the ground straight at Clementine.
"Pretty fun, but—"
Even when caught between two blades,
Clementine's smile never wavered.
Knives closed in from both sides—
and still, she did not flinch.
"——Flowing Acceleration."
She vanished.
"Ugh—!"
No—
she had simply moved fast enough to seem gone.
Slipping beneath the synchronized blades,
her body traced a spiraling path—
and the stiletto plunged into the clone's stomach.
The clone dissolved instantly.
Without slowing, she flicked her wrist,
and the second blade drove into Tia's thigh.
"Khh…!"
"Heh."
Cat-eyes locked onto Tia.
A cold shiver ran down Tia's spine.
She saw it clearly—
her own death.
Clementine twirled her second stiletto—
"This is the end—"
——And then:
"GET OOOOOOOOUT OF THE WAAAAAAY!!!!"
Gagaran's warhammer hit the ground between them
with explosive force, splitting earth and stone.
The impact forced Clementine back—
a single heartbeat away from Tia's throat being carved open.
"Ooh, scary."
"You ain't getting away!!!"
The hammer swung again,
splitting the ground as Clementine danced back lightly.
But Gagaran didn't stop.
"UOOOOOOOOOOH!!!"
——Ultimate Continuous Attack.
Her trump card.
A storm of hammer blows roared out—
each one strong enough to end a battle instantly.
Her fury.
Her resolve.
Her strength.
All poured into the assault.
But nothing struck.
Not a single hit.
Clementine danced through the raging storm
as though it were gentle rainfall.
Even with multiple superhuman buffs active—
Ability Boost, Ability Super-Boost, Super Evasion—
nothing touched her.
This was not luck.
This was pure, terrifying talent.
"Oooooooh!!!"
The final blow also met only empty air.
And in the opening that followed—
A stiletto slid neatly into the joint of Gagaran's shoulder armor.
A non-lethal strike.
Chosen deliberately.
Sadistically.
Gagaran groaned, falling to one knee.
"Wow~
That one was actually close.
That's Adamantite pride for ya."
Clementine clapped lightly, smiling in genuine praise.
But it offered no comfort.
Tia's leg was crippled.
Gagaran's dominant arm was damaged.
Their chance of survival had plummeted.
(Damn it… even asking for a potion break is impossible.)
Sweat dripped down Gagaran's temples.
Clementine stood above them—
untouched,
unshaken,
triumphant.
Her heart raced with exhilaration.
This feeling—
(That night with Momon…
must have been a dream.)
The terror she remembered, the despair—
surely an illusion,
a hallucination.
Yes.
Clementine was strong.
She had always been strong.
Stronger than most in her homeland.
Someone capable of inflicting such soul-crushing fear…
couldn't possibly exist.
(Yeah…
yeah, it was just a dream.
Not real at all.)
Her smile widened.
Her body felt light—
almost weightless.
She felt reborn.
So grateful, she almost wanted to kiss Gagaran and Tia.
But killing them would be a far sweeter keepsake.
"Well then, guess I'll kill you now~"
A giggle spilled from her lips.
It wouldn't stop.
"Damn… oi, Tia. Still moving?"
"Of course…
I'm not dying in a place like this…"
Clementine found their determination pitiful.
Adorable.
She laughed harder.
"Ahah—ahahahaha—
Time to kill you!!!
Right now!!!"
Her madness peaked.
Gagaran and Tia raised their weapons—
faces twisted in desperation.
——Then something tapped Clementine's shoulder.
A gentle, casual touch.
Almost friendly.
So natural she didn't register it as danger.
Still smiling, she turned—
What? I'm in the middle of something—
Her grin bright and wide—
And standing there was:
"——Mi."
A nightmare made flesh.
Clad in jet-black armor.