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A strike from a stone blade lashes out like a whip from her supple arm.

She hadn’t taken a single step. With no support from her hips or body weight, the motion came only from her shoulder onward—a clearly telegraphed move. And yet, the moment I caught the blow, my right hand went numb, and I was nearly thrown back entirely.

“—!?!”

Our physical builds and body weights appear to be evenly matched—or rather, I suppose I’m a bit lighter. My opponent clearly has the bulk. Still, to be overpowered so completely from the front must mean she’s far more adept at converting mana into raw muscle power. It seems that she instinctively uses what would be called Qi-Based Combat or Mana-Based Combat in human martial arts, strengthening herself with either mana or Qigong.

“Reflexes like a wild beast, with power on par with a demon. This one… mustn’t be underestimated—gh!”

Standing her ground as though her lower half had taken root in the uneven limestone floor, Mother Güllens let her upper body and stone sword dance wildly. The bones and fangs of some animal—ornaments dangling from her chest and hips, strung together by threads—swung vigorously with each motion.

Her movements ignore all conventional swordsmanship, so I counter with footwork and blade control. But with the floor’s unpredictable dips and rises threatening to trip me, I’m inevitably a step behind—unable to seize the offensive.

Just as I nearly lost balance on a patch of unexpectedly slick stone—

“Gyogeh!!”

She must have sensed this as the decisive moment. With a fierce battle cry, Mother Güllens swept her stone sword in a horizontal arc.

Realizing I couldn’t block the slash head-on in time, I gathered every ounce of spring in my body around my right wrist and used *Sakuramori* to deflect her blade. Unable to withstand the redirection, Mother Güllens staggered back, her posture broken. I seized the opening, thrusting forward with *Ouka* in my left hand at her exposed torso.

“Haaah—!!”

Speed and timing—both perfect. She wouldn’t be able to dodge it. Even if she managed to, she’d be wounded for sure or forced into a completely defenseless posture. It was a decisive, all-out thrust. But—

“—Geh-ah!”
“What…?!”

At almost point-blank range, Mother Güllens dodged the thrust with a dramatic sway-back—without shifting her rooted legs even slightly, she bent her torso backward at nearly a right angle, like some kind of acrobat. I was left in awe of her sheer physical control and bold reflexes.

*Ouka*, carried forward by sheer momentum, sliced through several strands of her seaweed-colored hair. Green locks scattered through the air… but that was the only result of the attack.

“What kind of joints and springs does she have!?”

Just as my own stance nearly collapsed, Coppelia’s casual remark from earlier suddenly flashed through my mind: *“Look at this, Lady Clara! Its hip joint range is way wider than a human’s—!”*

—!!

In that instant, what struck me might well have been divine inspiration. I shifted half a step with a quick movement of my feet—just as a green-skinned right leg came flying upward, whistling past my ear like an arrow loosed from a taut bow, aiming straight for my neck.

“Rising Dragon Kick!?”

Like hell I’m going down to such a ridiculous move!! The moment I recognized what was coming, I leapt sideways with everything I had. A few strands of hair got snagged and torn off by the narrowly passing toes.

From the upside-down pose, a follow-up kick from her left leg came flying at me—!

“You little—!”

As I landed, I used the recoil of my whole body to spring into a backflip. Midair, I launched a counter-kick of my own in time with her strike—my so-called somersault kick clashed shin-to-shin with Mother Güllens’, and *wham!!*—a dull thud of meat and bone echoed throughout the cavern. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Cestlavie and the childlike Güllenses gasp in shock.

“Gguh—!?”

Mother Güllens herself widened her eyes in disbelief. Seeing that, I secretly allowed myself a moment of satisfaction.

“…Seriously now. Does that Shrine Maiden Princess have to turn everything into a contest?” Cestlavie muttered immediately, exasperated.

“My delicate, fragile Princess… who looks like she might break in the wind…” Regulus added in a dazed monologue, unable to believe what he’d just seen.

“Heh heh! You know, the legendary ‘Clara’s Fivefold Payback’ is a tale destined to be passed down through the ages.” Coppelia puffed out her chest proudly as she recounted a story about me—one I had no memory of.

“…Could it be that she’s usually just pretending to be a meek little kitten?”
“Nah, she’s just naturally off in the head.”
“And that dial’s broken way past the max, too.”

These irresponsible remarks from the peanut gallery, I chose to ignore for now. …Still, since this is apparently my famous ‘fivefold payback,’ I made a mental note to later line them up and give them a proper scolding.

Suddenly, the three of them shivered.

“““…Why’d it suddenly get cold?”””

My, my. It seems the chill of the stalactite cave is getting to them.

Now then—Mother Güllens and I, flung apart from the point of our clash, once again raised our weapons and retook our distance, not letting our guard down.

So far, this had only been a warm-up exchange. A greeting, if you will. Now we were resetting the board.

“Gyeg-geg!”

Mother Güllens let out a delighted laugh, as if to say, *You’re strong! I’m gettin’ pumped!* Behind her, her children—which, I suppose, are also her minions—were each cheering in their own way, waving their hands or banging on stalactites to hype up their Mother (who apparently also counts as their Father).

Ugh, that smug face is so annoying! In contrast, my expression was grim.

“Fighting someone who’s a natural-born battle maniac is seriously the worst…”

I couldn’t help muttering to myself. Of course, I never meant to underestimate her in the first place, but I truly hadn’t realized how mentally exhausting it would be to face an opponent whose logic I couldn’t predict—whose moves defied all conventional theory.

*‘When facing a superior opponent, always aim three inches beneath the ribs.’*

In other words: When the enemy is stronger, fight like you’re willing to trade flesh for bone. Aim for mutual destruction—only then might you have a chance of winning. The teachings of *the* Zoan Rex (Beast King), one of the continent’s foremost martial artists, who had once accompanied me across the great desert—Stulti Vastitates—came back to me suddenly.