Swish!
The strike missed.
The sharp blade cut through the afterimage of the blonde beauty, carving a long scar across the ground.
Nolan froze where he stood. His vision blurred, and in that instant, the mysterious female ghost had already slipped past the attack. With explosive speed and power, she drove a brutal knee straight into his jaw.
In a heartbeat, Nolan was sent flying like a kite with its string cut, tracing a perfect arc through the air before crashing heavily onto the ground.
Agonizing pain surged through his body like a tidal wave as he tried to force himself up and counterattack.
But the next moment, a spotless, exquisitely delicate foot came down squarely on his chest plate, pinning him in place.
Nolan struggled to lift his gaze, his eyes filled with shock and disbelief.
That slender, seemingly fragile leg was exerting strength far beyond what it should have been capable of.
The female ghost bent down, her refined face slowly drawing closer, mischief dancing in her eyes.
"You little rascal, you really don't know how to show a lady any mercy. That swing just now caught me completely off guard. I might have actually died," she said with a coquettish pout.
"No one shows mercy on the battlefield," Nolan replied calmly. "And I don't believe my strike could have killed you."
Unable to rise, he simply lay there, his expression steady and composed.
He wasn't lying. The gap between their strength was enormous. There was no way she could have been cut down so easily.
The female ghost clearly understood that as well. Otherwise, what pressed against his chest now wouldn't be a soft, shapely leg, but a longsword slick with blood.
"Alright, alright. Stop making that face. This time, I lost. Happy now?"
She waved her hand carelessly, looking utterly unconcerned. Using power far beyond that of a knight, of course she had "lost". The disparity between them was simply too great.
Within Nolan's line of sight, there was nothing but her alluring figure. Yet somehow, she casually produced a thick notebook from her chest and tossed it to him.
"This contains some basic theoretical knowledge. Come back here tomorrow, and I'll continue teaching you how to use Incantation," the Ghost Lady said.
"Oh, and don't forget. This is our little secret. You absolutely mustn't tell anyone else."
"I'd hate to anger His Empyrean Highness. And you wouldn't want Princess Trina to find out about our relationship, would you?"
Our relationship?
Nolan looked at her teasing smile, feeling a wave of helplessness, but he still nodded.
Though confused, he decided not to press the issue for now.
He had a strong feeling that telling Trina about this would only bring trouble down on himself. This woman would definitely turn it into something far more complicated than it needed to be.
That instinct, honed through countless brushes with death, had saved his life more than once. This time, he chose to trust it again.
"Then what about this place…?"
Nolan hesitated as he glanced around at the cratered ground. The scars clearly showed that a fierce battle, or something just as violent, had taken place here.
Anyone with eyes could tell from a distance that something was off.
Yet the female ghost answered with complete confidence.
"I'll take care of it."
Her assured tone made it seem like she truly had a way to erase these traces and restore everything to how it was before.
"Oh, right. Take this too."
Nolan accepted a piece of parchment. After unfolding it and giving it a quick glance, he jerked his head up in shock.
"Bloodhound's Step!?"
...
While the handsome man and beautiful woman were locked in fierce combat, not far away, beneath the central depths of the Haligtree, within the underground residence of the Empyrean, two children of the Eternal Queen lay upon the same bed, gazing quietly at one another.
A glintstone lamp cast a bright glow, illuminating the ancient, understated chamber.
The room was steeped in warm, natural wood tones, giving it a simple, unadorned atmosphere.
Tree roots pierced through the walls, clearly visible, as though the room itself had been built directly atop those massive roots.
At the center stood a large pool of water. Its surface rippled gently, clear and luminous, shimmering with an alluring light.
Whoever had designed this place must have been a genius. For an ordinary person, living long-term in such a damp environment would likely result in rheumatism or aching joints.
Yet for the room's owner, this design was perfectly suited.
She lay quietly on the bed, her vivid red hair burning like fire. Her striking, resolute features were matched by a pair of eyes even more resolute, gleaming like distant stars.
Her tall figure was well-proportioned and brimming with strength, unmistakably that of an exceptional warrior.
Only her right arm was missing, replaced by a prosthetic forged from pure gold.
She was the undefeated Valkyrie, the Blade of Miquella, the child of Radagon and Marika, one of the purest-blooded demigods, the Empyrean Malenia.
Cradled in the arms of a silver-haired maiden, she lay as peacefully as a well-behaved child.
Saint Trina, the other half of the Empyrean Miquella, gently stroked that blood-red hair and slowly lifted Malenia's chin.
"To be honest, Malenia, waiting for you to wake up truly took a very long time."
As the embodiment of love, the Saint's voice carried a trace of helplessness. The last time she had seen Malenia was to suppress the rot and grant her a forced slumber. That sleep had lasted nearly a full year before the Haligtree's greatest military force finally awakened.
"I know. It was indeed long. Thanks to the rest you gave me, I slept well. If you have something to say, then say it. Are you asking me to kill Godwyn?"
Malenia opened her eyes. There was faint confusion in her voice, but not the slightest trace of regret for her brother, nor any other emotion.
Trina lowered her gaze, without the least hint of impatience. Her eyes were filled with indulgent affection. She was clearly accustomed to this sister's attitude.
"Malenia, our brother will certainly die, but it won't require your hand. There are far too many in this world who want him dead, Mother included."
"Is that so? I understand. Mother has always been like that. Then what do you need me to do, Sister? I will give it my all."
Malenia lowered her head deeply, seemingly unsurprised by the way her sister spoke of their mother.
Malenia's long hair obscured Trina's expression, but it could only have been one of gentleness. And Malenia was not wrong. In the eyes of that Queen, the bond between mother and child had never held much weight.
For the sake of that eternally perfect world, neither the elder brother Godwyn nor any of her other children could earn the Queen's favor. Even if the entire world were destroyed, she would never abandon what she sought to achieve.
"Enough. You've only just awakened and need rest. I won't disturb you for long."
Trina sat upright, speaking each word clearly and deliberately.
"The death of the Golden Prince will be carried out by others. What we must do is retrieve our brother's body afterward."