--A spray of blood, mixed with a cloud of dust, swayed in the wind and flew through the air.

　The thirsty sound of clanking echoed through the streets with a strange reverberation. It was the sound of the battle-axe in Vestalynne's hands, telling her that she had given herself to the earth.

　The swing given to Vestalinu, the Iron and Steel Princess, could be said to be the very essence of Kalia's respect for her pride and the martial skills she had developed.

　The pride that buried fear in her eyes but never showed her back. His skill in handling a battle axe as if it were his own arm. With those two things on her shoulders, she is undoubtedly a warrior.

　That is why she should not be made to experience the agony of death in her last moments. With a single breath, she should be cut off from her body as if she were going to sleep, and her spirit should be lifted to the heavens. This, Kalia believes, is the way to show courtesy and respect to a hero. Even if it is an enemy, even if it is a being who is trying to stand in your way.

　This way of being must be the mute voice of Kalia's own pride. In the event you have any questions regarding where and how to use the internet, you can call us at the web site.

...... "Not everyone can live a beautiful life. Well said. How ugly. There is nothing more foolish than to make the last act of a person's life look so ugly.

　Kalia's annoyed voice trailed off.

　If she didn't get the words out, the fever in her chest would have taken the form of a frenzy.

　It's a good idea to have a good idea of what's going on in your life.

　There were several long needles there, about the size of the palm of your hand. It slightly altered the trajectory of his sword.

　In Kalia's field of vision, she could see the blood spilling from Vestaline's right shoulder as it left her body and burst free, and she could hear her scream in her ear as the pain tore through her body. Then, as if collapsing, Vestalynn broke her knees.

　Oh, what a pitiful thing to have done. What an awful thing to have done. Unaware, Kalia bit her lip with her teeth. Originally, she would not have let a hero like Vestalinu suffer like this.

　It is a sincere regret for Kalia.

　Karia is a believer in power, but she is also a believer in constant training and bloody hard work. Whenever a person sets his mind to grasping power, he injures himself in the process. Sometimes it is a physical wound, and sometimes it is a mental wound. Effort, exertion, and discipline are not things that can be done without suffering wounds.

　Kalia took a deep breath, as if to bind her raging heart.

　Therefore, there should be rewards for that strenuous effort. One of those rewards is the end of life without the sobs of suffering. A dignified end given like sleep, Kalia believes.

　Oh, that must be the arrogance of the strong in Caria.

　But even if that were the case, Kalia couldn't bring herself to abandon that idea. It was because she knew that the bud of effort would not bloom gracefully at all times. I want to give them rewards and respect for their hard work, at least as much as I can wield.

"I'm sorry, but once is enough to lose a family member. Oh, that's the worst. It's a bad day.

　And he took that reward away from me.

　Silver eyes catch sight of the servant, even as green flames erupt.

　He has a slender build for a mercenary, with a large-brimmed hat on his head. His brown hair is slightly visible, but his face is hidden behind the hat, making it difficult to see. However, it is not his appearance that is noteworthy, but the armor in his hands.

　The mercenary is holding a needle, about the length of the palm of his hand.

　That's right, the same needle that is lying in a heap at Kalia's feet. It is the same needle that struck Vestalinu in the side of the head with his basket just as the silver sword was about to pierce it.

"You fool. All you've done is make this man suffer for nothing. That's all.

　And so muttering, Kalia glared at the mercenary and bit her lip once more. It was like a ritual to hate the mercenary and at the same time curse her own inadequacy.

　Normally, Kalia's swing would not be affected by the vibrations of a needle. Rather, she would bite down with her mighty fangs on anything that stood in her way.

　But this time, Kalia realized. Just as she was about to cut off Vestalines head. A projectile flew at her hand. And as if in response, she chose a stance where she could deftly flip it back with her basket hand. And this is the result. A hero who should not be tormented is sobbing in vain.

　At the moment when Kalia turned her gaze to Vestalinu, as if regretting it again.

　--Out of the corner of her silver eyes, she saw a gleam of iron. At the same time, there was a slight sound of cutting wind.

　It was not aimed at a single point in his hand, as he had done earlier. It was a long needle thrown with the clear intention of extracting flesh by gouging out the vital points of Kalia's eyes, throat, and chest.

　Even if it could not pierce the vital point, it could be poisoned with the tip of the needle. Then a single wound would be a fatal wound, and the enemy would let out a scream of despair and die.

　The wind whistled as it was pierced by the long needle and froze. 　

　--Squeak, squeak!

　In the next moment, the sound of iron being popped.

　The next moment, I heard the sound of iron being popped, and multiple long needles being thrown. The mercenary's throat spat. Karia thought she heard the mercenary's throat swallowing spit.

　Nonsense.

　He was about to let out a breath that he had been holding deep in his gut. No matter how you look at it, this throwing technique is not meant to be used in direct confrontation with the enemy. When the enemy is not even aware of your presence. It is, after all, a technique used in assassination.



　In other words, that moment when he had distorted the tip of Kalia's sword earlier must have been his last chance to put the long needle into her. Whether it would come true or not was another story, but that was definitely where the door of possibility was the most wide open.

　Therefore, the opportunity will not come again. The spirit that gives opportunity is not so patient as to give another chance to those who have missed it. Kalia snapped her teeth lightly and let out a few words.

You can do as you please there. If you want, I'll take care of you.

　I don't even need to think about you anymore. That's what it says. If you're hostile, I'll cut you down, but if you turn your back and run away in disgrace, I won't go after you. That's the extent of our opponents," Kalia said.

　Kalia's hands reached for the hilt of the silver sword that had been thrust into Vestalinu's body.

　Vestalines bleeding from her right shoulder has calmed down slightly, but she still has a pallor on her face from the never ending wave of pain.

　With his knees on the ground, he could no longer even fall down and continued to sob. She has already given up her consciousness due to the fierce pain that would probably make an ordinary mind refuse to even live. At the very least, it is certain that she has not gained the ability to think normally.

　--Let's make her comfortable here. I'm sorry for the pain you've suffered, Belfain's brave warrior.

　The silver sword is drawn from Vestalinu's body. Once again, the air was dyed vermilion with a profusion of blood. Out of the corner of my eye, I see the long-handled mercenary running hard for himself. Another sigh escaped from Kalia's small lips.

　Then, the silver light was just about to caress the neck of the approaching mercenary.

"Hey, hey, you're acting like a tragic villain, huh?

　A voice rang in Kalia's ears. It was the first one that had been given to her in a long time, and it was definitely the voice she had been looking for.