Tina still remembered that when she used to practice swordsmanship, she had several classmates, and it was common for them to challenge each other to duels.
However, a so-called duel required a “witness”—someone akin to a referee.
The witness was responsible for declaring the start and end of the duel.
But in real combat, there was no such witness.
Life-and-death struggles had begun since the dawn of this world and had never truly ended.
“Bang!”
The gate to the central area crashed shut, ensuring no one could interfere with their battle.
Babarol ran forward, then launched himself into the air like a cannonball, leaving behind a web of cracked earth.
He concentrated his magic into his fist, unleashing his power the instant he drew near Tina. His fist moved even faster than his flight.
“Boom!”
His fist slammed into the ground. Debris and metal parts scattered in all directions as the floor shook violently.
A miss?
Babarol's sharp senses made him realize that Tina was already standing behind him.
He quickly twisted his waist and spun, sweeping his leg. He had once used this very move to ambush an Inquisitor, kicking him to death on the spot.
Immediately after, he unleashed a rapid barrage of punches in Tina's direction.
“Bam! Bam! Bam!”
Yet, he couldn't land a single blow on Tina.
Babarol found it bizarre. In all his life, he had never seen such a petite girl who was faster than him, playing him like a monkey.
He drew his gold-trimmed longsword and shed his cloak and armor, revealing his robust muscles clad in chainmail.
“Who would have thought you're also an outstanding knight? Could you be one of the Pope's personal guards?”
“Let's duel! You dogs of the Church love dueling the most, don't you?”
His furious voice echoed through the space, but Tina knew he was only trying to bolster his own courage.
Any normal knight would have recognized the vast disparity in their strength.
Tina happened to be standing atop a massive boulder that had fallen from above. Her maid uniform was completely free of dust, and her dark blue hair remained smooth and neat, showing absolutely no signs of having just been in a fight.
She pulled out a dagger.
“I actually quite wanted to let you and the Church tear each other apart. But unfortunately, that won't do. You pose too great a threat to Little Ya, so I can't let you live.”
Babarol's sharp senses made him realize the identity of the person before him, and his eyes widened in disbelief. “So, you're a student of the Holy Academy?”
“Yes. But what's the use of knowing that now?”
Babarol raised his sword. This time, he sensed the immense, overwhelming killing intent emanating from her.
Having survived countless battlefields, how could he not recognize this kind of pressure?”
Yet Tina's killing intent was far thicker than he could have ever imagined, like a giant dragon wanting to skin him alive and roast him to death.
She was clearly a cute-looking girl, just like those Saintesses, yet she was so terrifying.
A cold sweat broke out across his body.
But as long as he held his ground, reinforcements from the outside would arrive sooner or later.
Judging by the time, Ulrich should have already begun his move as well.
He only needed to hold out for these few minutes.
“Aaaargh!”
Babarol suddenly felt a sharp pain in his wrist and shrieked.
By the time he realized what had happened, he found that the hand he used to hold his sword could no longer move at all—his tendons had been severed!
He reacted instantly, leaping backward and raising the bracer on his left arm to block.
“Thud!”
The powerful impact sent him flying backward. By now, his left arm had completely lost all sensation.
His massive body rolled across the ground. Shaking off the daze, he scrambled to his feet, only to find that beneath his shattered mithril bracer, blood was pouring out profusely.
What terrifying strength!
Even the strongest student at the Holy Academy would have been utterly crushed before him.
At this moment, Tina felt a bit sentimental.
She twirled her dagger. This was a mithril weapon she had “borrowed” from the Astral Sage—it was small, lightweight, and easy to conceal.
“As expected of a legendary general. I used my full strength just now, planning to completely ruin your hand.”
“Cough, cough... You wretched creature...”
This brat actually thought she could completely cripple me just now? Is she trying to torture me?!
Babarol could barely make out Tina's figure.
He picked up his sword and slashed rapidly toward Tina's position, following it up with a series of beautiful, consecutive thrusts.
The maid vanished once more, but this time, Babarol's sword shattered into pieces.
A few seconds later, the maid slowly stepped out of the mist. She was elegant and beautiful, with not a single wasted movement.
Intense pain began to flare up in his right hand, abdomen, and ribs.
Tina had severed his tendons and stabbed specific points on his body, rendering him unable to use magic.
Then, she severed Babarol's Achilles tendons, but instead of finishing him off, she left him with a single breath.
“Damn it! Damn it! You wretched creature! You bastard! When Ulrich gets here, you're dead!”
“Uh-huh.”
“Heh, do you have any idea what will happen if you kill me? The Church will hunt you down with everything they have, and the entire world will despise you! But they won't kill you. Instead, they'll parade you around on a cross! They'll lock you up just like they did with that woman's mother, and feed you pig slop! Hahaha... If I live, I can already picture you begging me for mercy!”
Yet Tina didn't get angry. Instead, she tilted her head and smiled.
Though her eyes were covered, the upward curve of her lips made Babarol think of a single word: demon.
The sound of her cold laughter was as lovely as a nightingale's song, yet it sent a shiver straight down Babarol's spine.
“Actually, what I hate most are you so-called heroes.”
“What?”
“The things you just said—do you really think you can make them happen? What's the point of a scenario that only exists in your imagination?”
“Haha...”
“You clearly can't do a single thing, yet you insist on putting up a hypocritical, disgusting front. You wretched bastard.”
“Wait, what are you doing?!”
With those words, Tina thrust her dagger toward Babarol's eyes.
...
“Save me... Someone, please save me! There's... there's a demon here!”
Half an hour later, Babarol's cries for help echoed at the gate of the fortress's central area.
His limbs were a bloody mess, leaving him unable to move properly. He wriggled and crawled along the ground like a worm.
Desperate, raspy sounds escaped his mouth as he did everything he could to crawl toward safety.
Finally, someone spoke.
“What is the matter, Lord Babarol?”
The voice of the young girl sounded familiar to Babarol, but in this critical moment, he couldn't afford to care about that.
“Save me! Quickly, save me! There's a demon inside! Save me... please save me! You... you're a Saintess, aren't you?!”
Yet at this moment, the one who was addressed as Saintess did not offer a helping hand. Instead, she turned her head and said to the person behind her, “Lady Sathya, how should we deal with this man?”
“Up to you. He is your enemy, after all. Just make sure you don't leave him alive.”
At the same time, Sathya looked through the gate of the central area, gazing at the ruins connected by countless pipes.
She wanted to know: who exactly was this “demon”?
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