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A Güllen with a distinctly different presence from the others—one could even call her beautiful—stood poised atop a large rock. Her green skin, though unusual, covered a well-balanced physique, and long, disheveled blue-black hair reached her waist. In one hand, she held aloft a thick, rugged sword about one mertes long, as if flaunting it. The blade looked as though it had been carved straight from obsidian.

Her menacing gaze alternated between me and the bound Güllens lying at my feet, and every now and then she appeared to bark out some sort of declaration.

“*‘Lo and Behold! I am none other than the master of the underground labyrinth beneath the Sant’Angelo Sanctuarium—Mother Güllens! All ye who dwell afar, hearken to my name! All ye who are near, come forth and see with thine own eyes! I challenge thee, who dare oppose my kin and have taken them captive—come forth and duel me if thou be worthy!’* …or something like that,”

Cestlavie quipped, dubbing her lines mockingly—but frankly, it probably wasn’t that far off from the actual meaning.

“That sounds like it. She seems to be the queen-type I theorized before, and from the look of it, she’s requesting a one-on-one duel between commanders.”

I met her magnetic gaze—so fierce it felt like a gravitational pull—and tucked away my magic staff using the Storage spell. In its place, I drew out my beloved swords, forged with painstaking care by a blacksmith in the Holy Capital using the money I’d saved up by helping out adventurers in this era.

*Thud. Thud.*

With two heavy sounds, the bare blades appeared in midair and stabbed into the cave floor on either side of me, pointing down. The blacksmith had intended to give them different names, but I had decided on my own: the long sword I called *Sakuramori* (Cherry Blossom Guard), and the short sword, *Ouka* (Blooming Cherry Blossom).

“That’s a strange kind of sword. Are they a type of scimitars?”

Cestlavie commented curiously—this was his first time seeing them.

“Something like that. By common standards, they’re probably the closest.”

It would be a pain to explain the entire history of Japanese swords, so I gave a vague answer, then gripped Sakuramori in my right hand and Ouka in my left, pulling them from the ground and giving each a test swing.

They were nothing more than lumps of metal, with no particular magical enhancements—but after many rounds of adjustment to perfect the balance, the result was satisfying. These days, I’ve spent more time holding frying pans than swords, but with these, I should manage just fine.

“GUEEGUEHHH!!”

The so-called Mother Güllen, who had been watching me closely, let out a triumphant howl the moment she realized I had accepted her provocation.

“She’s all fired up now. So old-fashioned.”
“I can’t say I dislike it, though. That kind of sportmanship—and this whole situation.”

Coppelia commented with a sigh that could have been taken as exasperated or impressed. As I moved to step forward onto the stage, Regulus suddenly slid in front of me, dropping to one knee.

“Please wait, My Dear Princess! There is no need for your noble hands to be sullied by such a lowly foe. Allow me to handle this. I was caught off guard earlier, but to leave matters unsettled against an opponent of that caliber would bring disgrace to my station. I beg you—please grant me the chance to redeem myself!”

Regulus bowed his head earnestly, but Cestlavie and Coppelia both wore unimpressed expressions as they stared at the crown of the pretty boy’s head.

“People like you who only think about yourselves aren’t admirable, you know that? Besides, as if Lady Clara would ever lose to some second-rate fighter like that. I mean, she could sing and dance while holding a voice-amplifying magic tool, do a tightrope act on a unicycle, jump through flaming hoops, and even throw in some backflips and plate-spinning—and still defeat her in seconds. No, *in an instant*.”

Coppelia’s blind faith in me (or maybe in Clara?) is honestly bottomless. Does she think I can do literally anything like some kind of magical super-being? I can’t do all of that at once, mind you. But two or three at a time? That I can manage.

Then Cestlavie gently addressed Regulus, speaking as one might to a stubborn child who refuses to listen.

“I know what you mean, but that one’s pretty tough. And from the look of it, she’s challenging us to a proper duel with swords. You’re not up to it.”
“What do you mean I’m not up to it!?”
“You’re an amateur with the sword, aren’t you? Anyone can tell from your footwork and body handling. You overpower enemies with brute strength, but your movements are obvious, your breathing is easy to read… Frankly, not just Jill—I could beat you.”

Regulus possessed high base abilities like reflexes and kinetic vision, and by enhancing his strength and endurance several times over with magic, he could completely overpower amateurs or beasts. But to be blunt, that kind of fighting style was no different from that of an animal.

His movements were monotonous and linear—against someone with martial arts experience or real combat knowledge, they simply wouldn’t work. In fact, if they fought seriously, Cestlavie would likely have the upper hand at this point.

Faced with Cestlavie’s calm critique, Regulus flushed bright red and shot back:

“For an opponent like that, there’s no need for technique! And why should I have to match their choice of weapon and fight with a sword in the first place!?”
“If that’s your logic, then either Coppelia or I could fight just as well. But the thing is—she challenged us to a proper sword duel. If we refuse, they’ll take it as an insult and escalate this into an all-out battle. And if you ignore that and use magic to beat her, they’ll say we fought dirty, and the rest of them will swarm us out of revenge.”
“Then we should just annihilate every last one of them. I don’t care how many hundreds come at us, if they’re all like that.”

As Regulus continued to argue heatedly, Cestlavie let out a sigh and added with exasperation:

“You’re missing the point. Our goal isn’t to pick a fight with the Güllens. We came into this hidden tunnel to rescue the kidnapped Shrine Maiden, remember? Fighting them isn’t our objective—that’s why Jill agreed to the duel.”

“““Ah—!”””

Regulus, who had completely forgotten the original purpose, let out a foolish-sounding gasp of realization. As did Coppelia and I.

“…Wait a second. I get her forgetting—but you too?”
Cestlavie gave me a half-lidded glare and rebuked me with a cold tone. I quickly averted my gaze.

“…Sorry.” The giddy excitement I’d been riding, as if we were in some *Romance of the Three Kingdoms* fantasy, instantly vanished, and I returned to my normal state of mind.

I hadn’t realized it myself, but it seemed I had been swept up in the atmosphere and lost my ability to make calm judgments. Maybe I had unconsciously underestimated the opponent. I’m ashamed.

“I’ve thought this for a while, but you really don’t value your own life, do you? Try thinking about how that affects the people around you for once.”
“You’re right. If I lose here, it would only embolden the enemy, and the chances of rescuing Miss Eliza would become very slim.”
“—Haa… No, that’s not what I meant.”

Cestlavie groaned, ruffling his messy hair in frustration.

“? I don’t really get it, but this is a duel to decide superiority. I shall win it properly.”

With that declaration, I tied my hair back using a handmade scrunchie I pulled from my pocket, and with a firm resolve, I strode toward Mother Güllens without hesitation.

From behind me, Coppelia shouted:
“You’ll be fine! When it comes to bust size, Lady Clara wins by a landslide!”
She cheered me on at the top of her lungs.

Incidentally, while Mother Güllens had a very feminine face, her body was androgynous, with broad shoulders and a completely flat chest—essentially a male physique.

“From what I can tell, that thing isn’t male or female—it’s a true hermaphrodite. A real ambisexual creature. And if this is a match to decide which sex is superior, then there’s no way Lady Clara is going to lose to some half-formed, gender-confused weirdo like that!”

She just had to tack on that unwanted bit of info, aiming straight for my mental weak points from behind.

“Ah… yeah. I see. So it really is appropriate that I be the one to face it, then…”

I found myself strangely convinced.

♢♦♢♦♢

“Lady Clara and the others have already gone in here, huh. —It seems they haven’t encountered Maria Lou yet, though…”

A pink bat-like creature hung upside down from his finger. Stroking its throat with his free hand, the boy in tattered old clothes and a flat cap murmured softly in front of the south gate, which was concealed by an illusion.

***

#Author’s Note:#

“Sakuramori” is, in fact, a sword intended for use as a shield. The blade has no edge aside from the tip, but instead, it’s designed with reinforced durability.

On the other hand, “Ouka” is a sword that prioritizes sharpness above all else. In exchange, its strength is comparable to glass—it’s a disposable blade meant for one-time use.

By the way, Western swords being cast by melting iron and pouring it into molds was either a method used in the earliest Iron Age (with naturally soft strength), or in the early modern period once blast furnaces became available. In the medieval era, they were forged by hammering, just like Japanese swords.

#Translator’s Note:#

I’m sorry but this is a pet peeve or mine. Metal-casting (the one that the author described) is extremely bad for swordsmaking because casting melted iron into mold introduces a lot of air bubbles into the metal and leaves the grains unaligned, making it unbelievably brittle.

Yes, it looks cool. Yes, it appears in a lot of fantasy stories. No, it’s bad anyway.

You know what’s cooler? Metal-forging. No, it doesn’t have to start from a tamahagane stretched into a katana. Just start from a long piece of metal, repeatedly being heated and hammered until every impurities in it are forged out and the grains are all straightened. That makes a really good and sturdy piece of metal, perfect for your weapon.

It doesn’t mean one is better than another though. Casting is good for complex shapes that are simply too hard to be replicated through forging. All the curves and bends and loops and corners and small details. It is for your decorative and mass production needs.

So, props for the Author for not falling for the tropes!