Chapter 393 – The Followers of August: Part Two

Gilbert’s fist tore through the void, leaving crimson trails as it roared through the air. Rather than relying on the Evil Eye that required concentration, he pursued Sheila using his vampire senses. The flying discs coming his way weren’t causing significant damage anyway. He ignored them.

He intercepted the launched Sticky Thread with a blood Shield and charged toward Sheila.

A brute force strike. Sheila performed an irregular Dodge, executing a cartwheel mid-air that sent her downward. For Sheila, the evasion itself became an attack. The invisible blades concealed throughout her body sliced through Gilbert’s form in an instant, precisely because of his narrow avoidance. Moreover, the simultaneous Lightning Strike made Pursuit difficult, though these attacks weren’t contributing to Gilbert’s actual damage.

“I told you those won’t work, didn’t I?”

Even as he spoke, Gilbert was closely observing her movements. While Gilbert was taking attacks to understand Sheila’s skills, he moved carefully to avoid exposing any fatal openings. He was deliberately placing himself within Sheila’s blade range to read her movements and land the final blow.

He was making light remarks to lure her into carelessness, but as Irvine had said, since they had come hunting knowing they were facing vampires, they undoubtedly possessed appropriate trump cards.

Then their target must be the heart. They should be waiting to unleash their hidden weapon – something different from what they’d shown so far – at some crucial moment.

But if that card was merely a silver weapon, it wouldn’t be a problem. The high-ranking vampires among the aides wouldn’t suffer a Fatal Wound from anything less than a proper strike to the heart.

And for Gilbert, this would also present the perfect opportunity to finish Sheila off. To deliver an effective strike to the heart, they would need to make a deep thrust rather than the shallow, grazing attacks used until now.

That would be the moment – to transform his entire body to encircle a wide area and tear her apart with his massive jaws. And Gilbert didn’t think he could land a hit through normal means anyway.

This beastwoman before him would probably detect even the slightest hint of transformation and evade it. The moment they came for the finishing blow would be the moment to end them. Should he lure them in or force his way through? Gilbert laughed even as Sheila’s Slash Attacks shredded his body.

Their Vitality and Magical Power wouldn’t last forever. So he would simply pursue. Pursue. Corner them, and devour them—!

“Alexis—! Another one is heading your way!”

At Irvine’s warning voice, Alexis scanned his surroundings.

The female magician from the rearguard was charging toward him. However, she didn’t enter his striking range, maintaining a certain distance as if intending to support the Knight Puppet before her.

She was probably the puppet’s master. The wavelength of magical power he sensed was identical.

Then rather than considering them as one puppet and one person, he should view these two as originally being one entity. They had come to disrupt the equilibrium after reading his movements and the battle situation.

“Go, Ignis.”

Magic Threads extended from the glowing Magic Circle in the woman’s palm. The moment they connected to Ignis’s limbs and waist, Alexis felt the puppet’s movements change.

Ignis closed in with explosive speed. The speed of the swung War Hammer was incomparable to before. A careless block would send him flying. But—.

“I can see it.”

The roar of tearing air passed by Alexis’s ear. Alexis evaded the strike by tracing an arc through the air.

Twice, thrice. The War Hammer cut through the sky with ferocious momentum. Despite Ignis’s advances and the speed of each strike being far more pressurized than before, they didn’t even graze him.

That was—because by directly controlling the puppet, he could sense where the next attack would originate from the Magic Threads. For Alexis, it was like having the attacks announced beforehand, making evasion hardly difficult.

“I know. With types like you, we just need to take out the master first, right?”

“If you can.”

At Rosemary’s provocative tone, Alexis widened his eyes, bared his fangs, and closed in. In response, Rosemary deployed Magic Threads from one Magic Slave to another around her. A thread Barrier—a Trap—designed to slice through anyone charging in.

For Alexis, who had expected direct Shooting from the Magic Slaves, this was unexpected.

“See? You can’t do it, can you?”

As if having predicted he would change course to avoid the suddenly deployed Magic Threads from the side, Rosemary bathed him in a Magical Light wave from the Wand in her hand. The directly hit magical light caused an explosion. Ignis charged into the blast.

“You’re good!”

Slightly faster than the sweeping War Hammer—Alexis burst from the explosion, flapping his wings as he retreated upward. Whether from damage or something else, his expression bore a non-human smile mixing anger, delight, appetite, and madness.

“But next time, I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you! I’ll make you regret that insolence! I like those rebellious eyes! I’ll gouge them out, tear your body apart, listen to your screams while slowly sipping your blood! I’ll kill you so carefully, so thoroughly!”

Alexis laughed, his Evil Eye gleaming brilliantly. His crimson tongue thoroughly moistened his lips.

“You—are broken, aren’t you.”

Rosemary furrowed her brows at Alexis’s appearance. While she had felt reassured seeing Grace’s Seal release form, she had never experienced such disgust from the repulsiveness emanating from the vampire before her.

It probably wasn’t a matter of whether he was an ally or not, but rather whether he had accepted his bloodsucking impulses. Rosemary understood that Alexis was thoroughly immersed in them, long past the point of no return.

“Ufufu, ahahaha!”

Alexis charged in with roaring laughter. Ignis swung his War Hammer to intercept, but it still didn’t connect. Tracing what seemed like mocking trajectories through the air, leaving red-eyed trails, Alexis slipped through. Rosemary fired light waves matching his movements.

But from Alexis’s perspective, he had already grasped the power and nature of both the light waves and Magic Threads.

What he truly needed to fear was taking a direct hit from Ignis. Magic from Rosemary wouldn’t cause fatal damage, and if Ignis initiated the attack, he couldn’t hit Alexis.

Therefore, Rosemary would first create an opening, then Ignis would deliver the decisive blow. So he charged in. Ignoring everything, he charged.

Alexis bared his sharp canine teeth, gritted them, took a Spear Stance, and plunged into the light waves. Though they would likely explode on contact, if he was prepared, he could pierce through the blast and skewer Rosemary with his spear. The cutting power of those fragile Magic Threads would be useless no matter where they struck—!

Thus he charged in, bracing for the expected Shockwave, but it never came. What Rosemary had fired from her Wand was merely magical light adjusted for shape and color. Instead, kicking off a Shield to retreat backward, she threw a flask at Alexis’s eye level.

Alexis—instinctively smashed it with his spear. The volatile liquid inside spread, drenching his upper body.

An intensely sweet fragrance. The moment he inhaled it, Alexis’s senses went haywire. His vision distorted, hallucinations appeared. Neither his Evil Eye nor his animal instincts—functioned.

A Magic Potion created using several types of mushrooms, Herbs, and poisonous plants, distilled alcohol, and materials like dryad tears and Dark Element Magic Stones. It had the effect of inducing intoxication along with Charm-induced euphoria.

“You seemed to have sharp senses, so I thought I’d crush those first.”

Rosemary’s voice sounded unnaturally loud. The puppet charged in, Mantle billowing.

“You think this can stop me—!”

Though his vision was distorted, he could still move. Slipping past the swung War Hammer by a hair’s breadth, transforming his limbs into beastly jaws as he closed in on Rosemary—when claws from an unexpected direction hooked him, stopping his movement.

“Ah, eh—?”

He couldn’t comprehend the puppet’s movement. He had dodged the War Hammer toward the direction of the arm not equipped with claws—or so he thought.

That was—a movement possible precisely because Ignis was a puppet. The result of rotating his upper body from the waist, but Alexis would never understand that.

The last thing Alexis saw was the Magic Threads connected to the puppet’s limbs glowing. The moment a metallic clicking sound echoed as if a fastener had released, a metal stake pierced through Alexis’s heart with an explosive sound, scattering it. The magic engraved on the stake had been modified for anti-vampire use.

A magical bullet of Light Magic detonated inside Alexis’s body.

He didn’t even have time to scream. With his heart destroyed and burned from within by Light Magic, Alexis turned to dust and vanished into the void while being held aloft by Ignis.

“Wha—!?”

His brother Gilbert witnessed it. More than his sister’s defeat, shock ran through him at the power that had obliterated a vampire of equal standing with a single strike.

Taking advantage of his momentary disturbance, Sheila’s Pearl Sword flashed, sweeping across Gilbert’s face before she disengaged. Gilbert—clicked his fangs and pursued.

Just a little more. Just a little more. The beastwoman’s movements were already losing their brilliance compared to before. If he could land a hit when she was slowed from exhaustion, he should be able to win.

He would devour this one before him, then go crush the magician who defeated Alexis as quickly as possible—!

He climbed in altitude, clinging after Sheila who flew as if escaping upward.

He could catch her. Her speed was dropping. Sheila’s body wavered unsteadily. Whether from Magical Power, Vitality, or concentration—one of them was running out, causing her to miscontrol her Shield.

“Mine!!”

Gilbert’s body transformed as he spread both arms wide. His right arm became an upper jaw, his left arm a lower jaw. Having captured Sheila within range of his massive beastly mouth, Gilbert tried to close it—.

“Wha—”

But it didn’t happen. His fangs hit something like a solid wall, preventing him from closing his jaws to crush her.

There, Gilbert saw a shining Barrier Wall.

Different from the night Barrier maintained by their master August, this was a Wide-Area Barrier created by the enemy.

Its true form was a massive pyramid-shaped barrier maintained with Claudia at the apex, supported by Stephania, Adriana, Charlotte, and Valentina.

That was what Sheila had put her back against. Originally meant to prevent the vampires’ aerial escape.

Encircle from a wide area, pin them down, and devour them completely. Every time Sheila showed the slightest opening, Gilbert had displayed that tendency. An unnatural wavering impossible for a normal body.

And that direction of attempted transformation. The attack that could be predicted from it. Sheila hadn’t overlooked any of this. Precisely because she had discerned his aim, she had lured him near the barrier while fighting.

For others, it was minimal. But from Sheila’s perspective, it was a massive opening.

Kicking off the barrier to charge the shortest distance, Sheila imbued her Invisible Blade with Fighting Spirit and precisely pierced Gilbert’s heart.

“Guh!?”

Sheila disengaged, dropping straight downward as she fell away. As she separated, Sheila poured all her remaining Magical Power into activating a Magic Tool. The same as what was engraved on Ignis’s Pile Bunker—exploding light. An anti-vampire Magic Tool. It functioned precisely as a One Hit Kill. Like his sister, the brother also scattered after being burned from within without understanding what had happened.

“…I’m tired.”

Sheila muttered to herself while flying to avoid the falling ash.

Her Martial Arts were superior to Gilbert’s… but without training with Rosetta when she occasionally visited, she probably couldn’t have handled Gilbert’s Combat Arts that well. She thought it had been the right decision to have her accompany her during practice.

In essence, she had grown accustomed to fighting at the range Gilbert initiated attacks.

Even so, continuously avoiding attacks that would render her Unable to Fight in one hit, while luring him to the targeted location without being noticed, was work that drained her Magical Power, Vitality, and concentration. So from Sheila’s perspective, it was more of an endurance victory.

“You’re quite skilled!”

Countless arrows poured down toward each other. A scene resembling a rain of light. Feeling the wind-cutting sound against her cheek, Mabel roared.

She didn’t know how she was doing it, but Irmhild seemed to accurately grasp her movements and fire arrows carrying some kind of interference wave to cancel out the arrows on hitting trajectories.

She was probably imbuing Magical Power into sound. Moreover, it seemed to possess troublesome properties against vampires, like evil-destroying or Purification effects.

So even without precisely matching arrows, just having those Light Arrows pass nearby would cause her blood arrows to decay. In that sense, one could say her opponent was making more effective attacks with fewer moves, or that her own arrows could also interfere with her opponent’s arrows to reduce their power. They were well-matched opponents.

However, there were signs she was consuming Magical Power for both movement and Shooting. So compared to herself flying with wings, her opponent probably had issues with sustained combat capability. While taking too many Light Arrows wasn’t advisable, her own endurance capability was far superior.

While analyzing their respective combat capabilities, she slipped through countless arrows and fired numerous ones herself. An intense crossing of white and red that seemed unbelievable for a one-on-one arrow exchange.

She would nock three arrows simultaneously to block escape routes, or vary arrow speed by draw strength to freely control time until impact.

Such an exchange of exceptional techniques. While enjoying her opponent’s skill, Mabel’s gaze remained fixed on Irmhild’s other Bow and arrow. A powerful bow carried on her back with arrow projectiles like spears—something no human could possibly handle. She probably drew it with her tail and fired. Then that must be the enemy’s trump card. Given the characteristics of Irmhild’s abilities, even Mabel wouldn’t escape unscathed if it hit her heart.

But from their exchange of attacks so far, she had understood. Irmhild had a clear weakness—a shackle that could be exploited.

Due to their positional relationship with Fareed’s forces behind her, she was adjusting the Magical Power imbued in her arrows so they wouldn’t reach that far.

So—if Mabel positioned them behind her, Irmhild couldn’t use that trump card, and the power of her arrows would decrease. Conversely, she could fire arrows without any reservations.

Sweet—Mabel laughed.

And Mabel’s own trump card was the same as Irmhild’s. Creating a powerful bow and giant arrow, then firing a deadly strike with vampire strength.

The transformation of the weapon required only a brief moment, but consumed a vast amount of blood. Therefore, I couldn’t afford to use it carelessly and risk missing. The only question was where to fire it. The answer was clear: from a distance where it would be impossible to evade after being seen. Close in at maximum speed and strike with certainty.

I spun around, trading shots while accumulating magical power for Blood Flow Manipulation within my body, waiting for the right moment. I resolved in my heart to act when our positions aligned in a straight line with Fareed’s forces—and that moment arrived.

“Now—!”

I shifted from the circular motion maintaining a fixed distance to a straight-line approach. Leaving Fareed’s army behind, Mabel closed in.

As she advanced, her bow transformed into an enormous one. A Light Arrow flew straight toward me as if to shoot me down. As expected, the arrow’s force was weak. I batted away the giant arrow with a third arm created from blood—

“Eh—?”

The moment I tried to create and nock an arrow, I felt a heavy impact between my eyebrows. I didn’t understand what had happened. Something was piercing my forehead.

It wasn’t a Fatal Wound, but my judgment was severely impaired. I reached for it, barely comprehending that something transparent was stuck right in the center of my forehead.

An arrow? When was it fired? How? What was it made of?

Question marks floated in my mind, but my thoughts fractured, yielding no answers.

To reveal the trick: because Mabel had approached in a straight line, I had simply fired a Light Arrow and an Invisible Arrow in rapid succession along the exact same trajectory.

For Irmhild, it didn’t matter whether the first arrow was canceled out or deflected. The real deal was the second arrow. Precisely because Mabel had closed the distance straight on, I could fire a physical arrow with power that wouldn’t hit my allies. In other words, I had doubled the effective power by utilizing relative velocity.

By the time Mabel pulled the arrow from her forehead, Irmhild had already moved directly above her, nocking multiple Light Arrows. A continuous rain of light fell.

The arrows pierced Mabel’s transformed wings, pierced her limbs—. Unable to fly any further, Mabel fell toward the ground. The Light Arrows crucified her upon the earth. She couldn’t move. Each arrow sapped the strength from her limbs.

And there she saw it. Irmhild, having switched to a powerful bow, nocking a giant arrow—and drawing it with her tail.

“—Magnificent.”

A bursting sound of the bowstring and the whistle of cutting wind. The arrow, clad in light magic, transformed into a literal Light Bullet and pierced Mabel’s heart with precision.

Twin Swords clashed with a Greatsword. The blood-soaked sword gripped in a reverse grip and the Dullahan’s Greatsword crossed, ringing out with the fierce clang of blades time and again.

“Damn you! Even Mabel?!”

As he crossed blades, Irvine grew enraged at the sight of his comrades being struck down. Should it be said that it went as Irvine expected? Starting with Alexis’s defeat, the aides were falling one after another. The tilted scales would likely never right themselves.

It seemed the enemy had prepared weapons capable of surely destroying them, and had even constructed a Wide-Area Barrier to prevent escape.

They had fallen into a trap. Though he realized it, it was already far too late.

Since when? How? Rather than such thoughts, Irvine chose to focus on the enemy before him.

Originally, he had headed toward the Spirits to distribute the burden on the other aides and Isolde. So now that his comrades had fallen, there was no point in dealing with the enslaved Spirits.

Even though the aides had been defeated, he could see that the beastman, the doll user, and the Lamia were all quite exhausted. It wouldn’t be enough to overturn the tilted scales, but if he could just break through the Spirits… he might be able to take down a few of the fatigued ones and somewhat compensate for the unfavorable battle conditions. He might even be able to unsettle that magician fighting August.

Once decided, he would break through this Spirit no matter what. There was a way. The Dullahan always wielded its Greatsword with one hand. Because it was a Dullahan, it held its own head in its other hand. Thus, it was gaining an advantage in the battle through sheer number of moves.

And—this Dullahan had only appeared here after being summoned.

It couldn’t possibly possess a Magic Tool capable of killing him. That Greatsword likely wouldn’t be enough to destroy him. So if he forced his way in and landed a blow, he could stun it and break through.

Resolving himself, he charged at the Dullahan. With one of the Twin Swords held in a reverse grip, he parried the Greatsword and stepped into close range. The opponent’s other hand was occupied. The Greatsword had been parried. Since he was right up against the horse, it could neither Defend nor Dodge.

There were gaps in the Armor. If he thrust the tip of his Twin Swords into the neck area—

But—what met Irvine as he raised his sword wasn’t a Slash Attack, but a powerful impact.

A mass of metal before his eyes. It took a moment to understand it was the Dullahan’s Helmet.

The Dullahan, with him in close range, had used its own head—its Helmet—as a blunt weapon. No. Should it be called a headbutt?

The startled Irvine tried to create distance by backing away—but he saw it. The glowing eyes within the darkness beneath the Dullahan’s Helmet. The moment he saw them, an indescribable Fear welled up from within Irvine.

The emotion visible in the Dullahan’s eyes was one they knew well.

For example, the will and emotion their comrades displayed when attacking humans. It held that within.

It was the conviction that one was superior to the opponent. The realization of being a predator. The emotion stemming from the recognition of being the hunter and the hunted, when taking blood from others according to one’s own nature.

What was it? The Dullahan wasn’t an undead Monster but a Spirit. Then, what kind of Spirit did it govern?

A High Spirit governing the night. But that wasn’t all. There was supposed to be more.

He searched his memories. It was from fairy tales from when Irvine was still human.

One who appears with a clamorous sound, announcing a person’s death. And—one who reaps the souls of the dying. The herald of death who carries the souls of those defeated in duels to the Underworld.

Then, what about him, an undead Monster? How did a being of ambiguous life and death like himself appear to a High Spirit governing death—.

His thoughts were bleached white by the emotion of Fear, which he hadn’t felt in a long time. Because of that, his reaction to the rebounding Greatsword was a moment too slow.

He felt his heart severed by the Greatsword swung down with tremendous force. But that alone wasn’t a Fatal Wound. The Dullahan’s Greatsword didn’t particularly—harbor any Purification power. Yet, there was a certainty that something had ended.

Irvine watched as the Dullahan’s right hand, having released the Greatsword, reached toward him with unnatural slowness. Then it grabbed his hair. The horse neighed and galloped off, ringing out with a cacophony of metallic sounds.

He saw something strange. His own body, left behind with a look of astonishment—growing distant.

“U, uwaaaaaaah!”

Understanding the situation, he screamed. That receding thing was his own body. The vessel that had until moments ago housed his soul. Having lost the duel with the Dullahan, he must have had the thread of his soul severed. Just as in the legends, his soul had just been reaped.

That was the Dullahan’s ability as a Spirit itself. To the Dullahan, a being like him, existing on the border of life and death, was surely nothing but harvestable prey.

Then, where was the Dullahan taking him? It was obvious. To the Underworld.

The sound of hooves. Leaving green flames in the air, the Dullahan vanished into the void with the reaped soul. Simultaneously, Irvine’s body burst into flames from within and burned to ash.

Storm and storm. A clash of power and power. Grace and Isolde flew through the midair, slamming their Weapons against each other. Isolde’s Weapon was a long, large sword, but it had an unusual Mechanism built into it.

The blade was composed of multiple segments, designed to separate when needed. The segments were connected by something resembling twisted metal threads.

In other words, a whip-like sword. In Isolde’s case, since she wrapped the metal threads with blood to control it freely, it might be better called a living serpent sword.

At close range, it became a Greatsword; at mid-range, it became a whip. With it, she crossed blades with Grace’s Dual Axes.

It was impossible to grasp the distance or the nature of the attacks.

Grace’s chains, imbued with Fighting Spirit, also allowed some freedom of movement, but they weren’t as versatile as Isolde’s sword.

She Dodged a giant Slash Attack sweeping toward her torso. Throwing the axe in her left hand, she charged in simultaneously. The Slash Attack she had just avoided bent midway. It traced a trajectory as if the tip were descending directly above Grace.

Form Shift. The Serpent Sword’s blade passed by narrowly. The moment she thought so, the blade retracted toward Isolde’s hand.

The extension and contraction itself served as the Slash Attack. Countless blade segments attacked, trying to slice through Grace like the teeth of a saw. Grace used her chains like a Shield, preventing her flesh from being cut.

Scattering sparks and metallic sounds, she closed in on Isolde. As she brought her axe down upon the laughing Isolde’s head—just before impact, Isolde’s head and torso turned to mist and slipped through.

“Hahaha! This is fun!”

Isolde rematerialized and launched a kick at Grace from point-blank range. Grace concentrated Fighting Spirit in her arm to block it. Both were sent flying back violently.

As they separated, the Serpent Sword’s tip extended, aiming for Grace’s heart along the shortest path. Grace caught it with the flat of her axe. Metallic sound and impact. Her other axe swept shallowly upward through Isolde’s body from below.

Grace enveloped herself in Fighting Spirit. Isolde wrapped her body in a crimson rising Demonic Energy. They pulled their Weapons back and charged again. After several exchanges of blows, they were flung backward once more. Isolde landed on the fortress rooftop. Grace charged straight at her.

Against the two axes brought down together from a High Stance, Isolde met them with her sword held in both hands, raising it as if to strike upward. The moment of impact, cracks ran through the fortress wall where Isolde stood.

A fierce clash, as if testing each other’s strength. Their gazes met across their Weapons.

“Kuku! I thought you were just a half-breed… but that strength. Skill. You might have more potential than your father?”

At Isolde’s words, laughing with one eye wide open, Grace furrowed her brows.

“But not yet. Entertain me more, much more. Judging by the feel and presence I get from you, you’re certainly superior to our followers. If you put your mind to it, couldn’t you change your form not just into a beast… but into mist as well? Or are you trying to hide it?”

“I’m hiding nothing.”

“Hmph. So you feared your noble blood and didn’t properly hone your power? How dull.”

“I… am perfectly content with the body my parents gave me, and what I found together with Lady Lisa, Theo… and everyone else. That alone is more than enough for me.”

“And with just that, you think you can kill me? Even with those axes—I assume you’ve equipped them with something, but with those light weapons, you might manage against the aides, but you cannot capture my heart.”

Isolde had witnessed the other aides falling, but she showed no sign of agitation, let alone sorrow.

She simply thought they were unworthy as August’s followers. She judged them as beings unfit to share eternity with her.

At Isolde’s reply, Grace’s lips formed a faint smile.

“Is that so? Countess Flamsteed is my mother’s title. I thought it a bit excessive to cut down an imposter who dares claim it.”

“Kukuku, you dare roar at me?!”

Isolde forcefully shook her off. Grace barely retreated, immediately kicking off her Shield to charge in. At point-blank range, the Serpent Sword’s transformations were meaningless. Two axes and one sword stirred up a storm at speeds leaving no trace of shadows. Purple and crimson glows intersected, scattering bursting sparks.

Isolde’s Weapons weren’t limited to just the sword. Seeing she was at a disadvantage in number of moves against Grace’s Dual Wield in close combat, beastly fangs and claws shot out from various parts of her body. With her right hand, she traded blows; with her left, she batted away the beasts. With a kick imbued with Fighting Spirit, she stomped through the forehead of a fierce beast resembling a gray bear.

For Grace, this was her second time fighting a high-ranking Vampire. She could handle attacks that transformed parts of the body into beasts. But unlike last time, Isolde was wary of the axes being Magic Tools of Light Magic, so she wouldn’t come in too deep. If a direct hit seemed likely, she would likely transform her body into mist to avoid it. Isolde possessed that level of reflex speed. So—that meant she couldn’t capture the heart with Weapons.

But so what? With a kick imbued with concentrated Fighting Spirit, she stepped in with explosive speed. The fortress ceiling she kicked shattered.

Closing in while scattering purple sparks from her entire body, she gathered her Fighting Spirit and struck down. Isolde’s body turned into red mist, leaving only the arm holding the Weapon.

She fanned the mist away with her axe. Indeed, the rematerialization was delayed. But as if it still had no effect, only the arm holding the Weapon rematerialized and launched the Serpent Sword.

The tip dove from the fortress roof and emerged from behind Grace. Relying on sound, she turned and Dodged, using the momentum of her spin to slam her axe toward the gap between the blade segments. However, she couldn’t cut it.

The metal threads reinforced with blood might be even stronger than those enhanced with Fighting Spirit. A Slash Attack tore through the roof and leaped upward. Simultaneously, the rematerialized Isolde pulled back her sword and, the moment she saw Grace, bared her fangs in a laugh and slashed at her.

She didn’t retreat. Sharper, faster, stronger. The Mirage Body Magic Stone embedded in Grace’s right-hand axe activated, and the axe split into three. The axe swung in a feint shallowly sliced Isolde’s cheek. Taking a half-step into the space where Isolde leaned back, the glowing axe in her left hand flashed across Isolde’s abdomen.

“Well done!”

The wound from the Slash Attack infused with Light Magic burst into flames. But it was only for an instant; the flames quickly subsided, and the wound regenerated. As she tried to land another blow with the phantom axe, Isolde’s body scattered into mist again as she leaped far back.

But still, only the right arm holding the Weapon remained physical. A one-sided attack after nullifying her own. Circling widely around Grace, it spiraled to surround her. Grace’s eyes widened.

Like a writhing serpent constricting its prey. The blades deployed in a circle closed in on Grace from all sides. From the only exit directly above, the tip descended as if to impale her.

Grace barely moved. She only shifted half a step to avoid the tip descending from above, concentrated the Fighting Spirit surging throughout her body, and reinforced her night-dark dress and Dragon Scale Armor. She stopped the entangling blades with her body, tangled them, and pulled.

The blades, trying to return to sword form, dug in, and blood sprayed.

She paid it no mind. Isolde, having only her arm materialized, was being pulled toward Grace. The moment her body from the shoulders up—including her head—materialized, Grace’s face was right before Isolde’s eyes.

“Na—!?”

“—Heh, hehe, ahahaha! Finally caught you!”

What swung down with the roaring laughter wasn’t an axe, but a palm strike wreathed in fighting spirit. The right palm that sprang up diagonally from below struck Isolde’s jaw with perfect accuracy. A moment later, Isolde—who had finally fully materialized—was sent flying high into the air.

Grace leaped. Laughing all the while. At the sound of that approaching laughter, Isolde tried to transform into mist to evade the pursuit. But—it was too late. The dagger Grace released from her bosom pierced Isolde faster.

It was—a dagger-type magic tool engraved with the sealing technique Lisa had left behind.

The ability it sealed was transformation. A weapon designed for opponents possessing powers similar to Virginia’s now bound Isolde’s abilities.

The moment Isolde materialized, her head had been struck, her brain shaken. It was an opening that could be called a blank in consciousness—something absolutely necessary to drive the sealing technique home.

“Oooooooooooooooohhhhhhh!!?”

A slash attack blending fighting spirit and light magic effortlessly tore through Isolde’s body. The twin axes traced countless trails of light at an absurd speed—slicing to dust and burning to ashes everything they touched.

Up and up, as if light and flame were dancing. Embers and ash scattered in all directions, and when Grace unleashed the final flash—nothing remained behind.