Imperial Capital Veruen, Palace of Labeira
Emperor Borold Labeira sat upon the obsidian throne, golden hair bound back, fingers stroking the matching beard that framed his stern face. Even seated, the man radiated the presence of a warrior-emperor who had once carved his path to the crown with his own blade.
At his feet knelt his second son, Shin.
Standing beside the throne, arms folded, was the eldest prince, Ark.
“Shin,” Ark spat, voice low with barely-contained fury. “Care to explain yourself?”
Shin raised his head slowly. The same golden hair, the same cold eyes—yet where Ark’s gaze burned, Shin’s was winter ice.
No panic. No excuses. Just calm, infuriating composure.
Ark’s fists clenched.
“You dare ignore me—?!”
“Ark.”
One word from Borold and Ark flinched as though struck.
“I did not tell you to be silent,” the emperor rumbled, “but I will not have you screeching like a child. Shin. I lent you four of this empire’s living legends—heroes that lesser nations would sell their crowns to possess. In mere weeks, two are dead. A third clings to life and may never wield a sword again. Explain.”
Shin finally spoke, voice flat.
“I ordered them to hunt a single fugitive.”
“A fugitive?” Ark exploded. “You threw away two heroes for one criminal?!”
“A necessary sacrifice,” Shin replied without blinking.
Ark looked ready to draw steel right there in the throne room.
“Necessary—?! Father, strip him of all authority this instant! If we let this slide—”
“Silence.”
Borold’s single word froze the air.
He turned his gaze fully on Shin.
“…Very well. They died following your orders, pursuing an enemy of the empire. No crime has been committed.”
Ark’s jaw dropped.
Shin merely bowed deeper.
“Thank you, Father.”
“But,” Borold continued, voice like grinding stone, “see that you do not repeat such wasteful losses. Understood?”
“Of course.”
Shin rose, turned, and walked out without another word.
The doors closed behind him.
Only then did Ark explode again.
“Father! Why protect him?! Are heroes so disposable now?!”
Borold regarded his eldest son with cold amusement.
“Ark. Do you intend to become emperor one day?”
“Wh— Of course I do!”
“I once had an elder brother who was meant to inherit this throne. I killed him and took it.”
Ark swallowed hard. He knew the story.
“Then you understand,” Borold said. “I will not hand the crown to the firstborn simply because he is firstborn. The throne belongs to the strongest—be it in arms, magic, cunning, resources… or will.
Today, in raw military assets, Shin has taken heavy losses. But in resolve?” Borold’s lips curved into a predator’s smile. “You were the one trembling before my gaze, not him.”
Ark went pale.
“Leave,” the emperor commanded. “At this rate, it is not certain which of my sons will wear the crown.”
Ark bowed stiffly and departed.
As the doors shut once more, Borold leaned back, stroking his beard.
“To think… it would be Shin who revealed the sharper fangs.”
A low, satisfied chuckle echoed through the empty hall.
The game of succession had truly begun. And the empire would only grow stronger for it—forged in the blood of brothers, if necessary.
The audience chamber’s doors closed behind him with a heavy thud.
Shin Labeira walked alone through the deserted moonlit corridors of the palace.
He paused beneath a tall arched window, gazing up at the silver disk rising in the night sky.
“Two heroes dead… and the last one who survived may never fight again. You’re cornered, little prince.”
A woman’s sultry voice drifted from the shadows.
Black dress, long raven hair, a single beauty mark beneath one eye. Meltera Carvan stepped into the moonlight like a living silhouette of temptation.
Shin smiled without turning.
“True. Only one hero left under my direct command. But I still have you people, don’t I?”
Meltera’s laugh was low and dangerous.
“Anyone else who dared rely on us so shamelessly would already be a smear on the floor.”
“But you won’t touch me,” Shin said calmly. “Because I’m the one who needs you.”
“Arrogant to the marrow. Though at this point I’m not sure ‘human’ is still the right word for you.”
“Perfect fit, actually. I am Shin Labeira—imperial prince, and the man who will sit on that throne.”
The same youth who had knelt calmly before his father now radiated absolute certainty.
Meltera tilted her head, amused.
“And yet the fact remains: two heroes gone, and your prey still running free. One of them fell to that spear-user, didn’t she?”
“Yes. It seems she’s after the same thing I am. So I sent my last hero.”
“Your last? You’ve truly burned through all four already?”
“Every piece on the board must be used. And he won’t fail. Very few people alive could kill Dante Crefaala. You’re one of them, of course.”
Meltera chuckled darkly.
A new voice cut in from behind her, rough and lazy.
“Yare yare… answering to a prince’s expectations is a knight’s duty, I guess.”
Dante Crefaala strolled forward, helmet tucked under one arm, handsome face exposed for once.
Meltera’s smile thinned.
“Still here, Dante Crefaala?”
“On my way out, witch. This corridor’s off-limits to anyone who isn’t royalty or certain knights. Scram before you lose your head.”
The air crackled with killing intent.
Meltera gave a mocking curtsey.
“Then I’ll flee before the scary knight murders me. See you around, Shin.”
She vanished into the shadows.
Dante spat on the marble floor once she was gone.
“I don’t trust that woman as far as I can throw her.”
“Compatibility is a thing,” Shin replied mildly. “I trust both of you equally. And I expect both of you to deliver.”
“Tch. I serve the Emperor. Right now he says my lord is you, so orders are orders. Future emperor or not, though—respect’s gotta be earned.”
Shin laughed softly.
“Then earn it I shall.”
Dante shrugged, already walking away.
“I’ve got a spear-wielding bitch who killed two of ours to repay. And some runaway knight to drag back. Hope your little ‘support’ you arranged is useful.”
“He will be. Rendezvous with him en route.”
Dante waved a lazy hand without looking back and disappeared around the corner.
Shin turned once more to the moon.
“Why hunt Aine Krosinte?” He answered his own question, voice ringing with cold conviction.
“Because I want their power.”
The night wind carried his words into the dark, and somewhere far beyond the palace walls, the final hunter began to move.
♢♢♢
Early morning.
I woke with a dull throb behind my temples and a sigh.
Yesterday was… hazy, but I remembered enough. Drunk or not, I’d been far too rough with Aine. I’d planned to apologize the moment she woke me.
Instead she’d woken up in full collar-heat, and we’d ended up exhausting her all over again.
Now she lay sprawled on her back, chest heaving, panties still tangled around her thighs. Utterly spent and heartbreakingly beautiful.
I sat in the chair, deliberately not looking, trying to figure out how to say sorry.
Aine broke the silence first, voice hoarse but surprisingly calm.
“…Morning sex is exhausting. I feel like garbage.”
“Same. This town’s supposed to be for resting.”
“Especially after last night,” she muttered.
“…Yeah. Sorry. I really overdid the drinking.”
“I never imagined you’d turn into that when you’re drunk.”
“I’m really sorry.”
She didn’t sound angry—just tired. I heard the rustle of sheets; when I risked a glance she was pulling her underwear back up and sitting on the edge of the bed, shoulders slumped.
“Let’s just stay in the room today,” she said.
“Agreed.”
We both needed it.
I still had a faint hangover headache—rare for me—and she looked like she could sleep another twelve hours.
A few more quiet days, then we’d leave this town and keep moving farther from the empire.
Knock knock.
Two presences outside the door.
“Good morning, honored guests. There are visitors here to see you.”
Visitors?
At this hour?
The only people we knew in town were yesterday’s miners. Maybe they were worried after we slipped out early.
“I’ll be right there,” I called. “Please wait in the hall.”
The innkeeper retreated downstairs.
I grabbed my sheathed sword—just in case—and opened the door.
Standing there, smiling serenely in her black habit, massive coffin still strapped to her back, was the nun from the forest spring.
Rurie Harvert.
“Good morning,” she said, bowing slightly. “And thank you again for the directions yesterday.”
Her gentle smile never wavered.
But every instinct I had screamed that this was no coincidence.
I instinctively reached for my sword hilt.
Rurie Harvert stood at the door, black habit pristine, but the massive coffin was gone today. That alone made her look almost normal—almost.
“My apologies for the early hour,” she began, bowing politely. “I have a personal request for you, Lynoah Steiler.”
“…For me?”
“Yes. I’ve been searching for a capable adventurer, and after hearing about yesterday’s incident, your name came up.”
The miners must have talked. It wasn’t strange that word spread, but finding our exact inn this fast was… impressive.
“You want to hire us for a job?”
She smiled gently. “Exactly. And it’s directly related to what happened in the cave yesterday.”
Before I could answer, Aine’s sleepy voice drifted from the bedroom.
“Lynoah? Who is it?”
She padded over, rubbing her eyes—and froze when she saw Rurie.
“You’re…”
“Good morning, Aine-san,” the nun greeted with perfect calm.
Aine’s gaze snapped to me, full of questions.
I gave her the short version.
“She’s here with a job offer. Something about the cave incident.”
Aine’s wariness spiked.
Then Rurie’s next words turned the air ice-cold.
“That collar of yours… I believe I’ve seen one like it before.”
My grip tightened on the sword.
Aine’s hand flew to her neck.
Rurie tilted her head, studying the Sex-Slave Collar with quiet curiosity.
“You two seem far too close for simple master and slave. So I wondered—did someone force that on you?”
She knew.
Not just that it existed, but that it was unnatural.
Aine went pale. I stepped half in front of her.
“What exactly do you know about it?” I asked, voice low.
Rurie clasped her hands and smiled.
“I’ll tell you everything I know, in exchange for accepting my request.”
A trade: information about the collar for completing her job.
I glanced at Aine.
She gave a tiny, resolute nod. Your call.
I weighed it fast.
If she were an imperial agent, she’d have attacked at the spring, not come knocking politely. Carrying that coffin around town would be a terrible way to stay undercover.
The risk was low. The potential reward—any scrap of truth about the collar—was priceless.
I exhaled and nodded.
“Fine. Tell us the job first.”
I let her into the room.
She entered gracefully, hands folded, posture impeccable.
Once we were all seated (me and Aine on the bed’s edge, Rurie on the chair), she began.
“The monster you killed yesterday doesn’t belong anywhere near human settlements. It hunts by erasing its presence and ambushing prey in darkness. Yet it appeared in a busy mining tunnel. That’s wrong.”
I nodded. I’d felt the same incongruity.
“So I investigated deeper into the forest last night,” she continued. “And I found the reason monsters are being driven down from the mountains.”
She paused, expression turning grave.
“A dragon.”
Aine and I both stiffened.
“I didn’t see it clearly—only a massive shadow passing over the moon, wings blotting out the stars. But whatever it is, it’s forcing every predator in the highlands to flee toward the town.”
A dragon-class threat this close to a tourist hotspot?
If true, the damage could be catastrophic.
And if it was the infamous wandering dragon Granvaris that had been sighted drifting across the continent years ago…
Even I might not be able to handle it alone.
Aine met my eyes. We were thinking the same thing: we couldn’t ignore this.
Rurie bowed her head.
“I’m not asking you to slay it blindly. Just come with me, confirm its presence, and decide from there. If it’s beyond us, we retreat and warn the guild. But someone has to verify it before it reaches the town.”
I rubbed my temple.
“One question. You said you came here to relax at the hot springs. How did a passing nun end up investigating dragon sightings overnight?”
She smiled, unperturbed.
“I’ve seen this pattern before—rare monsters suddenly appearing near people, always because something far stronger is pushing them out. I couldn’t sleep knowing it might happen again. Call it a bad habit of mine.”
Her explanation was… plausible enough.
I stood.
“Alright. We’ll go. But only to confirm. If it’s a true dragon and it’s hostile, we’re not charging in suicidal.”
“Of course.”
“And you’re coming with us?”
She rose gracefully.
“I may not look it, but I can fight. And I’d like to be there when you hear what I know about that collar.”
Aine cracked a tired grin despite herself.
“We were planning to rest all day… and now we’re off to possibly fight a dragon. Great.”
“But if she really knows something about the collar,” I said, “it’s worth it.”
Aine sighed, already pulling on her gear.
“Just don’t do anything reckless. That’s supposed to be my line.”
We finished dressing in silence.
When we stepped outside, the morning sun glinted off black lacquer.
Rurie stood waiting, the massive coffin once again strapped to her back like it weighed nothing, smiling serenely.
“Good morning again,” she said cheerfully. “Shall we go dragon-hunting?”
♡♡♡
Leaving the town behind, the three of us—Aine, Rurie, and I—walked deep into the forest.
Rurie had spotted what looked like a dragon far in the mountains. If it really could fly, we might still be able to confirm it from a distance. But if it came straight for the town, it would be a catastrophe.
I intended to deal with it quickly if I judged I could handle it alone.
“…Hey, Lynoah. You sure about this?” Aine whispered suddenly. I knew exactly what she was worried about.
I glanced back. Rurie walked behind us, still smiling serenely, the massive coffin strapped to her back.
I never thought she’d actually bring it with her.
A woman carrying a coffin was bizarre enough, but the sheer conspicuousness of it made me think: no imperial assassin would choose to stand out this much.
“If she were an imperial assassin, yesterday at the hot spring would’ve been the perfect chance. No reason to make us remember her face like this.”
“I know, but… that coffin is still creepy, okay?”
“Yeah… I’m curious too.”
“Did I do something?” Rurie asked innocently, noticing our stares.
Aine was the one who finally asked.
“We’ve been wondering since yesterday—what’s with the coffin?”
Rurie tilted her head with a gentle smile and glanced at the black box.
“Ah, this? My weapon is inside.”
“…Weapon? Wait, so that coffin is a weapon case?”
“You’re telling me that’s what it’s for?!”
Both Aine and I were stunned.
She wasn’t hiding it at all—she’d answered immediately.
“Actually, I’m a sister of the Carfa Church. I belong to their combat division.”
“The Carfa Church? That’s a big one.”
I’d heard the name, but I’d never had dealings with churches. I didn’t even know if the church in this town belonged to them.
“You know a lot about it, Aine?”
“Not really, but the Carfa Church has branches in both the kingdom and the empire, and tons of followers. Quite a few were in the knight orders too.”
“Thanks to the faithful, the Carfa Church still stands today,” Rurie said with a soft smile.
“But… a combat division? In a church?”
“I’d only heard rumors…”
“Yes. We don’t exactly hide it. The Carfa Church doesn’t just preach that ‘faith alone brings salvation.’ To actually deliver that salvation, we keep a handful of combatants on staff. In short—if something can be solved with force, we handle it.”
Her gentle smile never wavered, but the words were chilling.
Still, it made sense. There are plenty of criminals in this world who abuse powerful magic. I’ve heard stories of infamous mages wiping out entire villages. I’ve even taken jobs hunting such people. For a church, having people capable of dealing with those threats was only logical.
And if she’d come this deep into monster territory alone, she had to be able to fight.
So that was Rurie Harvert—a combat sister of the Carfa Church.
It didn’t completely ease my mind, but she was being completely open. No signs of lying. Aine seemed to relax a little too.
“I should have explained earlier,” Rurie said apologetically. “Carrying a coffin makes people wary, and saying I’m from the combat division tends to scare them even more…”
“I-I guess… but without an explanation, it just looks super suspicious! And… isn’t that thing heavy?”
“I’m used to it. If I’m just tagging along on a request, I’d only be a burden if I couldn’t fight when needed.”
“We’ll decide whether to fight after we see it,” I said.
“Of course. Also, Lynoah-san, you don’t have to be so formal. Speak to me like you do with Aine-san.”
“…Then I’ll take you up on that. Looks like formality isn’t going to help us much from here on.”
The presence of monsters around us had changed.
They weren’t attacking. They were hiding, holding their breath—clearly terrified of something.
When monsters acted like this, it almost always meant a far stronger predator was nearby.
Rurie’s dragon was probably close.
“From here on, we move quietly. First, we identify the target.”
“Got it.”
“Understood.”
We crouched low, slipping through the underbrush.
I signaled the two to wait and went ahead alone.
Then I found it—a huge sinkhole bathed in sunlight.
At the bottom lay the dragon.
Fifteen meters long. Black scales with glowing crimson gaps. Limbs thick as ancient trees.
I knew this monster.
“Black Tiger Dragon.”
Tiger-like face, but undeniably a true dragon—massive wings on its back, eyes closed in sleep.
I’d fought one before with a party. It would take at least a dozen A-rank adventurers to bring one down.
But I could do it alone.
“Lynoah, did you find it?”
Aine’s hushed voice from behind.
I nodded and beckoned them over.
They crept up beside me—and Aine froze.
She trembled violently, clamping a hand over her mouth to stifle a cry.
I pulled her close instinctively.
“It’s okay. I can fight that thing solo. I’ve done it before.”
“A-alone…? No way… that’s not like normal monsters…!”
She wasn’t wrong to be terrified.
Even asleep, the Black Tiger Dragon radiated pure dread. Every creature in the around it was paralyzed with fear.
Humans have instincts too. Anything with “dragon” in its name triggers a primal voice screaming: Do not fight this.
I’d felt it the first time too.
Now, though? I was used to it.
Still incredibly dangerous, of course.
“So it really is a dragon,” Rurie said calmly.
Compared to Aine, she was ice-cold.
Most people would react like Aine. Rurie had probably faced dragons before. Her composure spoke volumes about her strength.
“Lynoah, we’ve confirmed it. We should retreat. I’m not saying you can’t beat it—I just don’t think the three of us can do it safely.”
Aine was shaking, but her judgment was sound.
She was right. I could fight a Black Tiger Dragon alone, but guaranteeing a kill before it flew away was another story.
And Aine was clearly rattled. Rurie’s strength was unknown.
Engaging now would be reckless.
“I’ll stop the Black Tiger Dragon’s movements.”
Rurie spoke suddenly.
“Stop its movements…? You can cast something like that?”
“Yes. Lynoah-san—if it stops even for a few seconds, you can finish it, correct?”
“…True. A few seconds of immobility is more than enough for a fatal strike. But a spell that can paralyze a dragon of that class… you can actually do that?”
Even among combat specialists, that level of magic was practically legendary.
If she could pull it off solo, she’d be on the level of an archmage.
“It’s not exactly magic.”
“Then how?”
“Easier to show than explain.”
Rurie lowered the coffin to the ground.
Creak—
The lid opened.
Inside lay a short-haired girl, eyes closed as if asleep.
Both Aine and I went rigid.
“A person?! You said it was a weapon!”
“I didn’t lie. Now… does this look familiar?”
Rurie reached into the sleeping girl’s chest.
A swirling black void opened—and from it she drew a jet-black spear.
“The Sin of Sloth,” she said with her usual gentle smile. “I am its bearer. Now do you understand why I said I ‘know’ about Aine-san’s collar?”
My sword was out in an instant.
“You lured us here.”
“Partially true—I did want to meet you. But right now, we have more pressing matters, don’t we?”
She glanced down at the dragon.
“I am hostile to your empire. Whether I become your ally… that depends on what happens next.”
Then she looked at Aine.
“Aine-san, would you mind placing your sword at my throat?”
“W-what are you saying?”
I tensed—there was no way I’d let Aine get close while Rurie held that unknown spear.
But Rurie seemed to read my mind. She drove the spear into the ground several meters away, handle up, completely defenseless.
“I understand your caution. Showing you this could very well start a fight—I was prepared for that. But my request remains the same: kill that dragon. If you don’t trust me, Aine-san can hold my life in her hands. One wrong move and she takes my head.”
She was offering her own life as collateral.
With Aine’s blade at her throat, even someone of Rurie’s strength couldn’t act rashly.
But before I could refuse—
Steel flashed.
Aine had already drawn and placed her sword perfectly against Rurie’s neck.
No hesitation.
I was the one left stunned.
“So the dragon-slaying request is real?”
“Yes. And I truly want your help.”
“You said that spear can stop its movement.”
“Correct. Let me explain the Sin of Sloth. Anyone the spearhead is pointed at loses the ability to move. Range is about from here to the dragon—barely. Duration is short, but if it stops even briefly, Lynoah-san can finish it, yes?”
She glanced at me.
Indeed—if it froze, I could land a killing blow before it recovered.
But I still didn’t know if the spear’s power was genuine.
There was no time to test it.
“I can deliver a fatal wound. One clean hit might not kill it, but close.”
“Then we’re set. If I make any suspicious move, Aine-san, feel free to take my head. The two of you could still handle the dragon even without me, correct?”
I hesitated.
We had to kill the dragon. She’d shown her ability. There was no reason for such an elaborate trap.
But the Sin of Sloth—and its bearer—still gnawed at me.
She knew things we didn’t.
My biggest worry was leaving Aine beside her.
I trusted Aine. But still—
She turned to me, eyes fierce.
“Lynoah, that dragon scared the hell out of me. But if it’s a human making a wrong move? I’ll handle her.”
Clear. Decisive.
The same girl who’d trembled moments ago was gone.
She’d already adapted and judged the situation perfectly.
That was Aine’s strength—something I sometimes lacked.
The real threat right now wasn’t Rurie.
It was the dragon.
I nodded.
“Got it. If you say so, I’ll take down the dragon. Hold the fort here.”
“We have an agreement, then. The moment the Black Tiger Dragon wakes, I’ll freeze it. The rest is yours.”
I descended alone.
The dragon’s pressure was overwhelming up close.
It sensed me too.
Slowly, it opened its golden eyes and rose.
I looked up at Rurie.
Aine’s sword still at her throat, Rurie leveled the Sin of Sloth at the dragon.
Instantly—the beast’s rising body went limp and collapsed.
It was real.
I kicked off the ground, closed the distance, leapt, and brought my sword down in a diagonal slash across its thick neck.
Bone-deep.
“GRRROOOOAA?!”
The dragon roared in shock.
A normal monster would’ve died instantly.
But dragons are different.
Even mortally wounded, it forced itself back up, glaring at me.
The freeze duration was short.
One more strike.
“No point dragging this out. Next one ends it.”
I locked eyes with the beast.
It raised a massive foreleg to crush me—
“HYAAAAAAAAAAAA!”
A war cry tore from the sky.
An armored figure dropped like a meteor, boot slamming into the dragon’s skull.
CRACK.
The head caved in.
Instant death.
The blood-soaked knight landed in the crater of gore and laughed maniacally.
“Finally caught up, spear bitch! And look who’s here—Aine Krosinte! Jackpot! So, who the hell are you, pretty boy?!”
Dante Crefaala. The Emperor’s mad dog had arrived.
“…That’s my line, though.”
I pointed my sword at the man who had suddenly appeared and spoke.
But even without an explanation, I knew—this guy was our enemy.
☆☆
Just a few minutes earlier—after Lynoah had descended below to fight the ‘Black Tiger Dragon.’
Aine kept her sword pressed against Rurie’s throat, quietly watching over the situation.
While she didn’t want Lynoah to push himself too hard, Aine understood deep down in her heart—if Lynoah said he ‘could fight’ an opponent, even if it was a dragon, then surely that wasn’t a lie.
Still, she had purely voiced her concern for him out of worry, suggesting they should avoid fighting with such a small number of people.
In truth, fighting a dragon with just three people was the height of recklessness.
Unless, of course, Rurie could truly stop the dragon’s movements—then it would be a different story.
“…Can you really stop that dragon’s movements?”
“Fufu, are you confirming that now? I believe you already understand, though…”
“…What are you…”
Aine couldn’t deny Rurie’s words.
Just as when she had understood the name ‘Lust Demon Sword,’ Aine had looked at Rurie’s ‘Sloth Demon Spear’ and known that its abilities were genuine.
She knew the spear’s abilities despite never having seen it before, and that’s precisely why she had judged that as long as they remained vigilant of Rurie, it would be possible to finish off that dragon.
“You made the correct judgment. I too am betting my life on this because I believed you would do so.”
“…What’s your objective?”
“Let us discuss that matter after we deal with this. Now then, I must fulfill my role.”
Saying this, Rurie pointed the tip of her spear toward the ‘Black Tiger Dragon’ that Lynoah was facing. In an instant, the ‘Black Tiger Dragon’ lost its strength as if all power had drained from it, and collapsed. Just as Aine knew it would—the ability worked exactly as described, and Rurie had fulfilled her role as promised.
For Aine, there was only an uncomfortable feeling. Why could she understand the power of someone she didn’t even know?
The only conceivable reason was that it had to do with the ‘Lust Collar.’ However, Aine ultimately knew nothing in detail about this collar either.
In that sense, Rurie could be said to be the first major clue.
Looking down, Aine saw Lynoah land a blow against the ‘Black Tiger Dragon’ and face it.
The ‘Black Tiger Dragon’ also raised its massive body despite having received a fatal wound.
“Hey! Can’t you stop it again?”
“I cannot use it consecutively at such short intervals. Besides, it seems something troublesome has arrived.”
“Huh—”
Along with Rurie’s words, Aine caught sight of ‘something’ falling from above.
What shattered the ‘Black Tiger Dragon’s’ head with an impact sound—was a person.
“Finally caught up with ya, ‘Spear Woman’! And Aine Krosinte’s here too, ain’t she!”
“…!”
What she heard was a man’s voice. Just now, he had clearly said ‘Aine Krosinte.’
Aine reacted immediately to the visitor who had appeared so suddenly.
The man who had descended from high above had pulverized and killed the dragon’s head with a single blow. She instantly understood the abnormality of that. However—
“Miss Aine, wait.”
Rurie stopped Aine as she tried to move, as if restraining her.
Caught off guard for a moment, Aine was shaken.
“Wh—you…! Why are you stopping me?!”
From the man’s tone earlier, he should be targeting Rurie as well—so she had judged it would be better to reinforce Lynoah rather than restrain Rurie.
And yet, Rurie had stopped Aine.
Was she an enemy after all? Aine turned her gaze toward her as if glaring, but Rurie, as if looking at something far away, murmured in a small voice.
“—There’s one more.”
“What?”
With those words, Rurie sprang into action. Before Aine realized it, several floating objects had appeared, surrounding them.
Rurie swung her spear and knocked them down.
“These are ‘magic tools’…!?”
“Yes, they’re targeting us.”
“I’d like an explanation of what’s going on—but it looks like we don’t have time for that.”
What had tried to attack Aine and Rurie were magic tools—at the very least, she couldn’t sense any human presence nearby other than Lynoah and the others below.
In other words, someone was controlling the magic tools from a considerably distant position.
Because Rurie had knocked them down, she couldn’t tell what kind of power the magic tools possessed, but judging from their appearance, they seemed to be the type that released magical power to attack.
Aine had seen people using such offensive magic tools before.
However, if there truly was no operator nearby—Aine quickly understood that the magic tool user was no ordinary person.
“That’s right. At the very least, I am not your enemy, and I have no intention of quarreling with you here. Let’s organize the situation for now. The man below is named Dante Crefaala—a knight of the Empire.”
“! Dante Crefaala—isn’t he one of the hero knights…!”
Like Ziguld Arneld who had previously attacked Aine, he was a knight belonging to the Labeila Empire. Moreover, he was called a hero, and while Aine had never met him—she knew his name well.
Because in the Empire, Dante was called the ‘strongest knight.’
There were eight knights called heroes, but she had heard that Dante stood head and shoulders above the rest.
Indeed, she had just witnessed it firsthand—even though Lynoah had dealt it a fatal wound, the ‘Black Tiger Dragon’ had still been active.
The attack power to stomp on and pulverize its head. Dante possessed the strength to accomplish that.
“It seems no explanation about Dante is necessary. I would like to entrust his opponent to Mr. Lynoah. Do you have any objections?”
“Of course I object! He’s the Empire’s strongest knight!”
“Do you think Mr. Lynoah is inferior in ability?”
“…That’s not what I’m saying. But…”
Aine knew Lynoah’s abilities better than anyone.
She wanted to say clearly that he wouldn’t fall behind even against a man praised as the Empire’s strongest—but even so, having him fight alone was another matter entirely.
“You may reinforce Mr. Lynoah if you wish. However, if you participate in the battle with Dante, will you be able to be useful?”
“…That’s…”
Aine couldn’t answer Rurie’s question.
In the end, Aine had been unable to defeat Ziguld and had been saved by Lynoah.
The knight now standing before Lynoah—Dante—was an even ‘superior’ fighter to Ziguld.
Though she had never seen him fight, it was certainly quite possible that even if Aine joined in, she would only be a burden.
“Then what am I supposed to do…?”
“You will wait here. I will go dispose of the other one.”
Saying this, Rurie quietly gazed toward the depths of the forest.