An Unworthy Opponent

Moments before the encounter, cutting a path directly toward the ruined granary through the labyrinthine passages of the market, advanced a solitary, hooded silhouette.

(...Tap... tap... tap...)

Slung across her back hung a massive, ornate urn, while in one hand she loosely held an iron chain.

"Woof~!"

The other end of the chain was fastened to a heavy collar around the neck of a voluptuous Wolf-kin woman, who ran on all fours like a loyal hound marking the way.

"Is it this way, Pocchi?"

Yet, despite the breakneck speed with which the wolf-girl tore through the debris, Silvia’s hooded figure matched her pace effortlessly with rhythmic, steady strides.

"Woof! Woof!"

Although her steps seemed almost casual, her speed was anything but slow, gliding through the ruined corridors with a terrifying efficiency.

"Alright, if you say so."

Having thoroughly demolished the lavish mansion situated within the market's VIP district in search of the Great Speaker Witch, Scarlet Astrea, Silvia and her newly assigned hound, Pocchi, had initially cornered their target—only to discover that the elusive witch had instantly teleported away using spatial magic.

"..."

Under normal circumstances, tracking a mage capable of spatial magic across a vast, enclosed realm ought to have been an impossible feat...

(...I want to get out of here... I want to fight... I want to see Mom... Should I just kill them all...data?)

After all, the abrupt tear in space usually dilutes and disperses any lingering scent, rendering traditional tracking methods entirely useless.

(Sniff~ Sniff~)

However, Pocchi was no ordinary beast.

(...No, that would be wrong... Focus... I'm in control... I am in control...)

Pocchi was a gifted prodigy whose acute senses allowed her capable of scanning overwhelmingly vast expanses with pinpoint precision.

"I'm bored..."

Thanks to that, combined with the enclosed boundaries of the underground market and the intensely grueling training she had just endured under her new "owner," the former adventurer's true latent potential...

(sssss)

...in the most unexpected place and era...

"...I want to fight."

...had finally begun to bloom, turning her into an unrivaled tracking hound.

(ROAR! ROAR!)

As a result, one of the greatest weaknesses that had hindered Silvia's progress within the clandestine market—her abysmal sense of direction—had been completely compensated for.

"Oh, found you."

Thanks to that, both Silvia and Pocchi arrived at the granary, witnessing the scene unfolding inside, where the colossal phallic entity held the inert body of the Great Speaker Witch, Scarlet Astrea, firmly by the neck...

"...Aaaah... Aaah~"

...who, stripped of all ego, bearing a stupid, dazed expression after having excreted her personality and intellect like mere waste, simply drooled, smiling blankly with a vacant gaze fixed on the void.

"Is that woman... Scarlet Astrea?"

Observing her current state and vacant expression, Silvia couldn't help but ask, a trace of incredulity in her voice as she doubted whether that broken woman could truly be the Great Witch rumored to be the market's most powerful ruler.

"Woof~!"

Yet, in response to her master's doubts, her faithful "pet" answered affirmatively, tilting her head while swaying her upper body up and down—causing her bountiful chest to bounce from side to side as she confirmed the scent signature.

"...I see, so it really is her."

Only upon receiving the confirmation did Silvia's cold, electric-blue eyes shift, focusing her attention on the woman the monster lifted and tossed aside as if she were nothing more than worthless trash.

"Gii~"

Consequently, without a shred of consciousness remaining, the body of the Great Witch tumbled down, sinking directly into the foul waste on the floor beneath the impassive, cold gaze of Silvia, who calmly evaluated her remaining strength.

"Too weak...?"

Upon evaluating her, Silvia was left utterly disappointed.

"Is it really her?"

She had expected the supreme authority of the market to be a formidable figure—someone worthy of engaging in a true, thrilling battle...

"...Woof."

Attempting to confirm one more time in the faint hope that Pocchi might somehow have made a mistake, Silvia asked again, her voice brimming with quiet disbelief.

(Sniff~ Sniff~)

In response, the wolf-girl sniffed the air with her sharp canine senses, nodding affirmatively after verifying the exact scent trail they had tracked across the entire underground market.

"I see."

Yet, upon hearing that response, in that very instant, unable to deny the stark reality before her eyes, something deep within Silvia fractured.

"...In that case."

She wanted to fight. She needed to clash. She was going to unleash the impulse gnawing at her from within.

"Finally..."

Deprived of Mireya's presence and unable to give free rein to her desires through entertainment, the only force driving her forward was an ever-growing urge for pure violence.

"I came to claim my exit ticket."

Up until this very second, she had forcibly suppressed that dark, surging urge through her strict code of chivalry.

(Gurgle?)

Yet with every passing day, that impulse had festered and grown, while the corrosive emptiness she felt inside threatened to violently explode.

"Pocchi, suspension."

She simply could not endure it any longer.

"Woof! Woof!"

And of all the beings inhabiting the vast world of Terramyr, the only one who sensed the absolute, immense danger of what was about to happen was a wolf-kin woman with acute senses...

"Awaken... Livisluna."

As the hooded figure reached toward her own neck, drawing forth a sharp dagger enveloped in bitter frost and ancient ice, Pocchi did not dare to offer the slightest thread of resistance.

(Fssssssss—CLINC!)

In an instant, the wolf-girl was completely frozen solid and compressed into a tiny marble of crystal ice, escaping by a hair's breadth the dark tragedy about to unfold in the ruined granary.

"I have you."

Catching the tiny ice marble in her hand, Silvia’s aura shifted completely.

"...Now, you."

If an elite martial artist had been present in that ruined granary, they would have recoiled in absolute terror at what Silvia had just accomplished.

"Could you let them go?"

Her pressure, her power, and her very presence had suddenly withered away, shrinking until she felt like nothing more than a fragile, ordinary child.

(ROAR!!)

Under normal circumstances, monsters instinctively seek out weak prey they can effortlessly devour while shying away from entities that outclass them, guided purely by their survival instincts.

"...As you wish."

The greater the gap in power, the more impossible it should be for a beast to mistake a predator for prey.

"I accept your duel."

Yet in that singular moment, despite the abyss that existed between her true strength, Silvia had mastered her presence so thoroughly—reprimiendo her capabilities to such an absurdly low level—that she completely deceived even the creature's primordial instincts.

"Go ahead."

The first to attack was the monster.

(WHIP! WHIP!)

Desleashando a sweeping torrent of motion, it drove its heavy tendrils forward with relentless force, seeking to utterly crush the intruder beneath its weight.

"...Yes... That's how it has to be."

Yet without shifting her stance or taking a single step, Silvia evaded the barrage effortlessly, tilting her body just enough to let the strikes whistle past her by mere millimeters.

(Gurgles and unintelligible roars~~!!)

In the next second, however, the creature concentrated the massive reserves of magic it had stolen into a dense, volatile liquid.

"?"

Gathering that power within the thick, bulbed tip of its form, it fired a compressed beam of pure magical energy directly at Silvia...

"Not bad..."

Watching the destructive ray surge toward her, Silvia simply responded with a faint smile.

"Come here."

And still standing firm in the same spot, watching the destructive ray approach, Silvia simply extended her hand forward in a casual, indifferent motion.

(SHWING!)

Long ago, that former princess not only possessed an unprecedented martial genius; she was also a soul beloved by every weapon ever forged or destined to exist.

"Pleasure to meet you..."

It mattered not what kind of weapon it was—whether it shared a binding contract with another master, rested in the hands of its original smith, or possessed no sentience of its own.

"...Here we go."

Every blade and edge would invariably choose her.

"Royal Style..."

The reason behind this phenomenon stemmed from no grand magical trait or unique sorcery...

"...Cutting Wind."

...The real reason why every weapon chose her was painfully simple.

(SLASH~!)

A hairline fracture cut clean through the air.

"What a pity."

In a single, seamless instant, the compressed beam of magic, the colossal monster, and every structure aligned behind it across the underground market were sliced neatly in two.

"I still haven't managed to master you."

The reason why every weapon chose her...

"...Haaah... It's over..."

...was because she was simply the far superior wielder.