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Witnessing his allied knight being decimated as if made of paper, Jotun retaliated with shield-covered punches from both right and left. Lubbock nimbly evaded the punches, parried with his swords, and quickly maneuvered inside his opponent’s defense, targeting his feet.

“Your strategy is utterly flawed. While you’ve bolstered your defense, you’ve sacrificed the advantages of using Evil Eye and Holy Light.”

“Shut up! No one needs your so-called genius insight,” Shima retorted, as a black magic circle formed near his left leg, launching a dark beam toward Lubbock.

“Lightning Shield.”
“Holy Silent.”

I cast a support magic buff on Lubbock while simultaneously, Mikoto countered Shima’s Dark Hexagram with an anti-magic spell. The success rate of anti-magic can be unpredictable, often influenced by level discrepancies. Achieving 100% effectiveness is rare, but fortunately, luck was in our favor this time.

“And your tactics lack subtlety; you’re practically telegraphing your location to the enemy.” Lubbock’s gaze was fixed on Jotun’s left shin as he spoke.

“Damn it,” Shima groaned. He seemed poised to move from that spot when seven swords encircled and pierced the base of Jotun’s left thigh, effectively sealing his escape route.

In that instant, I dashed forward. Given that Lubbock was clad in heavy armor, he couldn’t reach the target quickly enough—speed was my forte.

“Haaaaa!!”

I activated my Swordmaster Skill «Phoenix Slayer», spinning horizontally like a drill to create a tornado, then slashed at the joint of Jotun’s left leg with the wind blades it generated.

While my attack didn’t fully sever the leg, the gap was quickly exploited by the seven swords, which swooped in and cut through the remaining connection, completely detaching the limb.

The severed limb transformed into a smaller version of Nidhogg and attempted to flee.

“Good grief, you’re truly a sore loser.”

Lubbock gave chase, his greatsword «Zetsu» glowing with a white light. He prepared «Juggernaut», a secret technique that sacrifices half of the user’s HP & MP to deliver a critical hit with a 33.33% chance, ignoring the opponent’s defense and HP.

This was not Lubbock’s final maneuver. While a single skill activation is challenging for most players, Lubbock swiftly switched from one sword to the next within 0.5 seconds of each skill execution, cycling through all nine swords until they all gleamed with a white glow, suspended in the air. As a final flourish, he grasped them all with both hands.

It was Lubbock’s unique skill, crafted by exploiting a system loophole. This technique had become the bane of numerous raid monsters, known as—

“Meteor Vanisher!”

Trailing luminescence, the nine blades plunged deep into Jotun’s form.

The strategy was simple but effective: increase the number of attacks to enhance the probability of landing critical hits, trivializing the enemy’s defense while guaranteeing normal damage. This approach doesn’t alter the inherent probability, but its effectiveness is magnified when employed by someone dubbed ‘the devil’s luck,’ who managed to enhance the ultra-rare «Zetsu»—a mere 0.5% drop from a Level 120 BOSS—eight times in a single attempt. With nine swords in play, it was almost guaranteed that one or two would land as critical hits, reminiscent of the time he triggered seven criticals out of nine against Yog-Sothoth.

Jotun’s movements ceased abruptly after sustaining several critical hits. Its body shuddered, emitting a silent shriek before exploding, sending fragments scattering in all directions.

“What about Shimamura?!”

Lubbock shouted, using his mantle to shield himself from the flying debris as he stepped back. At his signal, I scanned the area but found no trace of Shima.

Hey, hey, don’t tell me Shima was taken out too?!

As we exchanged puzzled looks, the sound of shattering glass echoed from the direction of the massive chandelier overhead in the corridor.

Looking up, we saw Shima, who had been concealed atop the chandelier, now falling with a groan. Oddly, a knife was embedded in his foot, suggesting he had used teleportation or a shadow clone to reach that spot. Had someone detected him and countered with an attack?

“This is our chance! Miss Hiyuki, seal him now!”

Pushing aside my burgeoning doubts, I reflexively retrieved the «Sealing Cross» from my Inventory at Lubbock’s urgent command and dashed towards Shima. The tool required close proximity—at least three meters—to be effective.

Lubbock had the ability to defeat Shima instantly with his nine swords, yet such a victory would only prompt Shima to utilize a Save & Reload tactic.

Shima attempted to remove the knife and use teleportation to escape, but I anticipated his move and acted faster.

“Seal Bind!”

Drawing inspiration from the earlier antics of the bumbling Grand Pope, I channeled my mana into the «Sealing Cross».

“Argh—” The device began to forcefully drain all of my mana.

A glow briefly surrounded Shima. Through the shimmer, I thought I saw him muster a bitter smile.

“Uh-huh, looks like this is game over for me, I guess, meow.”

Suddenly, I caught a glimpse of a silhouette merging into the shadow of a corridor pillar at the edge of my vision. Could it have been Kagerou?

A few moments later—

This time, Shima was definitely unconscious, rolling on the ground like a discarded doll. Exhausted, my knees buckled and I collapsed, overwhelmed by the effects of depleting my MP twice.

“Are you feeling okay, Princess?” Mikoto rushed over to assist me. I took her hand for support, quickly drank another MP potion, and stood up.

“Phew, that should settle things here. Now we just need to keep a close watch on Shima’s body…and, hmm?”

I assumed all was resolved, yet the commotion persisted. Turning, I saw Lubbock and the others combating the remnants of Jotun, now frenzied and leaderless.

“One more task remains. We’ll address the other minor issues afterward.”

I slung ‘Gilles de Rais’ over my shoulder and plunged into the fray, determined to conclusively end the conflict.