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“Haaaa!!”

The frenzied onslaught of blows, interspersed with battle cries, bombarded Bernardo. His foe’s approach was utterly unadorned, eschewing cunning for a raw display of might and agility.

Bernardo’s defense, a tapestry of refined swordsmanship, was formidable, yet every warrior has a brink. His aura, once a beacon, now dimmed visibly—his reserves dwindling perilously close to depletion.

“Haaa!”

Recognizing the dire strait, Bernardo rallied his waning energy, infusing his twin blades with the remnants of his aura for a final, desperate assault. Launching himself at his opponent, he unfurled a diagonal strike from the right, as if springing from a bow.

“You slob!”

Kohaku parried with her dual halberds, their bladed intersections bracing against the onslaught in a mimicry of Bernardo’s own technique.

The clash’s intensity caused the ground under Kohaku to buckle dramatically.

“Dual Tyrant Cross Slash!!”

Committed, Bernardo redoubled his efforts, his left blade tracing a parallel arc to meet its twin in a lethal cross. The combined force cleaved through Kohaku’s defenses, the halberds succumbing as the echoing impact sent her reeling.

The reinforced strike from the second sword not only breached but shattered the halberd’s defense, driving deep. A muffled echo resonated as Kohaku’s right hand, clutching the fragmented halberd’s hilt, was thrust upwards.

“Don’t think you’ve got meeeeeee!!”

Undeterred and displaying no signs of distress, Kohaku flung the halberd’s hilt from her left hand with the precision of a javelin, simultaneously unleashing an upward kick.

“Kuhh!”

Bernardo agilely evaded the hurtling hilt by contorting his frame, yet the kick that followed connected squarely with his jaw, teetering him on the brink of unconsciousness. Unyielding, Kohaku leapt, secured her right hand—and the hilt it grasped—between her teeth, and propelled it towards Bernardo, driven solely by the force of her jaw.

“Gaaarrrrg!!”

Direct hit. The hilt’s end precisely impaled Bernardo’s heart. Yet, the exertion and blood loss took their toll, leading Kohaku to collapse alongside.

“Lord Bernardo!?!”

As Beast King secured another victory, the surviving trio of church knights let out cries of desperation.

“—Whoopsie. They proved more delicate than anticipated.”

Amidst the fray enveloping the trio, the white-masked man uttered a murmur and exhaled a sigh as he observed Bernardo’s downfall.

“Do you really think this is the moment for commentary?”

Maroudo’s remark came as he launched a multifaceted assault—imbued with feints—towards the white-masked man, who nimbly dodged with an almost theatrical flair, aided by magic and his Galient sword. Concurrently, Caldabolg, enshrouded in flames and lightning, lashed out, seemingly intent on ending both adversaries.

“Haaa…tsk.”

Simultaneously retreating, the spot they vacated bore witness to Caldabolg’s spiral blade unfurling a vortex, only to retract along its initial path.

Kuin clicked his tongue in evident dismay, gearing up for another magical onslaught. Yet, his efforts were thwarted as the Galient Sword, living up to its moniker, weaved towards him in a serpentine assault.

“Dastard.”

Kuin executed a significant leap backward to evade the oncoming attack. The conflict had reached a deadlock, with each participant mirroring the others in a perpetual loop of actions.

“……I don’t know about you, but I don’t fancy the idea of being stuck fighting you two smell bombs for ages. Uh-huh, guess only I can put an end to it.”

Upon the conclusion of the white-masked man’s remarks, signaled by his (´・ω・`) emoticon-like expression, Maroudo and Kuin sensed an imminent threat and swiftly vacated their positions.

His subsequent action, self-dubbed ‘Pahlen Accen Apostrophe Ohm,’ or simply ‘Shima’ as per Hiyuki’s reference, was unexpectedly mundane. He voluntarily removed his mask.

With a swoosh, his long white hair cascaded down like freshly fallen snow. He casually brushed it aside with his gloved hands, thereby unveiling his visage to all present.

—Beautiful.

An audible gulp echoed from everyone in attendance.

His eyes shimmered a pale blue, evoking visions of the unblemished sky. His visage melded masculine elegance with feminine grace—his features defied categorization, transcending gender norms to embody perfection.

His allure was so overwhelming, as if he personified the deity of beauty itself, capturing the gaze of all who beheld him. Maroudo was no exception, though he experienced a striking sense of familiarity.

—The resemblance is uncanny. It’s as though he was cast from the same mold as the Princess.

A man and a woman. One with black hair, the other white. A boy, and then a girl. Scarlet eyes opposite light blue… Maroudo found himself entranced, as if witnessing the flip side of the same coin. Meanwhile, Pahlen showcased a mesmerizingly beautiful smile.

Involuntarily, their hearts raced, a visceral reaction to the sight before them.

“Alright, the show concludes here. Our encounter was fleeting, but the time for games has passed.”

Pahlen, hand over his chest, executed a modest bow akin to that of a knight. Upon raising his head, his smile revealed pearl-white teeth.

Simultaneously, Kuin abruptly fell, and Maroudo likewise found himself crashing to the ground.

“—Was that a psychic assault?”

Beast King remarked with evident irritation. Even he found his legs unsteady.

“Bingo. I’ve maximized my racial skills «Evil Eye» and «Charm». Except for boss-tier monsters, none are immune. It’s impressive you’ve remained conscious after such an assault…though it was merely level 3. Since you’ve proven more bothersome than mere combatants, I shall escalate the intensity to, let’s say, level 10. Now, sweet dreams.”

Immediately following his declaration, Maroudo succumbed entirely. Even Beast King managed only seconds before collapsing to his knees.

“Let’s go.”

The surviving church knights, zombie-like, followed at his command.

“Actually, ensure they are finished.”

Pahlen gestured towards the fallen Maroudo and near-death Kohaku, then strolled away whistling, without a backward glance. The church knights instantly brandished their swords towards Maroudo and company.

Unhesitatingly, they swung their swords down, aiming for vital points. Yet, before their strikes could land, a sudden gust swirled through the silent corridors of Scarlet Jade Castle, its hues a dark black mingled with rose-red.

The knights’ swords were flung from their grips before they could grasp what happened, their heads soon following, expressions frozen in bewilderment. The assailant did not linger over the fallen foes but advanced towards Kohaku, reattaching and healing her severed arm amidst a shower of blood.

Pahlen, having moved some distance away, paused to look back, a smile creeping at the corners of his mouth.

In his line of sight, standing before Koharu, was an angel with jet-black wings.

“Relax, the help is here.”

The angel murmured soothingly as she tended to the others, then rose abruptly to approach where Pahlen awaited with enthusiastic arm waves.

“At last, my dear Hiyuki, you’ve arrived! I’ve been eagerly awaiting your presence.”

In response, the angel, identified as Hiyuki, raised her two-handed sword ‘Gilles de Rais’, its blade transparent, with a firm grip in her right hand.