Chapter 31: Click-Click Loli Sortie

──── From the Perspective of a Certain Squad Captain ────

Our scout unit of the Millis Knight Order is currently in Sharia, the very symbol of the Three Great Magic Nations.

Our mission is, of course, to kill the demon-possessed child who lives here, and the pregnant demon who may give birth to another.

A family with a green-haired child. A demon who brazenly bought a house and land on the central continent, daring to raise children. Both fall under the Inquisition of our Knight Order. There is no reason to let them go unharmed.

Demonkind are filthy vermin. No matter how many we suppress and kill, they slip through the net, multiply, and take root in human lands. If they wandered aimlessly and died quietly, we wouldn’t bother. Even those who live in dorms under the protection of the Three Great Nations are, regrettably, beyond our reach.

The northern territories, with their many small states, are lenient toward demons. As much as it galls me, we can’t openly slaughter them.

Even so, the Greyrat family could never be forgiven—descended from a prestigious Millis line, guilty of polygamy, sheltering demons, and even birthing the green-haired devil.

If the Greyrats expand their power within the Three Great Magic Nations—already far too indulgent toward demons and advancing technology at an unnecessary pace—it will become a serious problem for us expulsionists in the northern lands.

That’s why the fool who came to us claiming to have received a “divine revelation” was so convenient. The second son of the Count of the Duchy of Nereis, through his trading company’s slave-trading branch, even hired the North Saint Style swordsman to push us into striking at the Greyrats.

That sort of idiot—unable to grasp the meaning of picking a fight with the magician most closely tied to Asuran royalty and most monitored by the Three Great Nations—is a blessing. Easy to use, easy to discard.

Rudeus the “Quagmire,” head of the family and now famed as Sharia’s strongest. Princess Ariel’s guardian mage, “Silent Fitz.” The beast from the Holy Land of Swords, the “Mad Sword King” Eris. Any one of them is a monster that would require the full force of a small nation. As scouts, we know well how terrifying they are.

But now they’ve departed for the Asura Kingdom. With the Greyrats left only under the command of that mysterious “Dragon God,” this is the first and last chance we’ll ever have.

One of our targets is a demon said to be powerful enough to be sung of by bards, a Water King-ranked magician—but she’s pregnant. With the North Saint at our side, killing her will be no problem.

When it’s all over, we’ll pin the responsibility on that foolish count’s son who hired us. After all, the Quagmire is a lunatic who once burned down a forest over his family—he’ll gladly take the fight to the count’s house.

Killing the demon-possessed child and a powerful demon, driving a wedge between the heretical Greyrats and the Three Great Magic Nations—this would be an achievement worth every one of our lives. My heart already races at the thought.

“Wait. You there—you’re not from this city, are you? You don’t look like adventurers, nor proper knights. State your names, your affiliations, and your purpose.”

“Z–Zanoba Shirone…!”

Damn it. Of all people—one of the Six-Faced World, the divine child of superhuman strength, and one of only two currently in Sharia! Why did he have to notice us here!?

The Six-Faced World are already considered the six strongest current students of the University of Magic. This Zanoba may be weak to magic and rated poorly at the university, but in raw combat he’s a certified monster. In fact, in terms of battlefield threat, only Cliff Grimoire is considered weaker among them. To run into one of them now—I couldn’t suppress a click of my tongue.

(What do we do…? Do we kill him first?)

(Don’t rush! If we murder even a small nation’s prince studying abroad here in the middle of the street, the uproar will be unavoidable! Forget killing demons—we’ll never get the chance!)

(Then what? We’re already under suspicion! If he calls Cliff Grimoire or adventurers connected to the Quagmire, we’ll be annihilated!)

(We have the North Saint on suppression duty, and all of us can use at least beginner-level magic. If it’s just this one, we can kill him without trouble. But if we let him go, he’ll call mage reinforcements and we’ll be finished. This may be our last chance.)

…My subordinates clearly mean to do it. True, this was a suicide mission from the start. Playing it safe would only lower our odds. There’s no meaning in that. Very well—we strike.

The moment I hardened my resolve, I felt something bump against my feet.

When I looked down, I saw a little girl in a long skirt, her oversized hat pulled down over half her face.

“Are you all right, little lady? We grown-ups have some important business to discuss, so you should step awa—”

“Sword God Style technique… ‘Shadowless Blade.’”

A muttered whisper. Her skirt swayed. In that instant, both my legs parted from me at the knees.

“Gwaaaaah! En–enemy atta—”

“Enemy attaaaaack!!!”

The cry, louder than mine, rang through the entire city.

And then the girl’s drawn dagger was at my neck—

“Don’t kill him! Lady Auber, leave that one alive if you would!”

“Hmph! Then I’ll just take his arms.”

So said the girl—no, the green-haired demon-possessed child—as she mercilessly severed both my arms, smashed my jaw with her fist, and plunged me into unconsciousness.

“…Green-haired… devil…!”

─── Edith’s POV ───

On the way back from browsing new craftsmen and luxury goods in the artisan district with Zanoba-dono, I happened to notice a suspicious group.

Nine in total, nearly all exuding the presence of seasoned fighters. Their bearing was like that of trained soldiers, yet they had cloaked both appearance and behavior to conceal their identities. And among them… one in the rear carried an aura rivaling even the high disciples of the Holy Land permitted to rise in rank.

The overflowing killing intent and bloodlust spoke for themselves—they intended to strike here.

“Zanoba-dono, it seems they mean to kill someone. Likely servants of the Man-God.”

“Indeed… understood, Edith-dono. I shall deal with them, while you return to the estate and report.”

“You won’t fool me, Zanoba-dono… you only mean to distract them and let me escape, don’t you? There are many magicians among them—there’s no guarantee of flight. And if you die, Father will grieve.”

“Hmm… very well, then. I shall hold off the swordsman. Please raise your voice to call for aid, and leave the magicians’ interference to me.”

“Thank you, Zanoba-dono.”

Then, with the technique I devised—Shadowless Blade—I neatly severed my opponent’s leg.

It was a trick born of my incomplete Silent Blade, combined with North God Style hidden-weapon techniques and iaijutsu. My body is still small, my battle aura, strength, and skill not yet enough to wield the great sword arts of the major schools. This was my substitute—a clever art meant to compensate.

(Unable to call you my master? …Such nonsense, Auber-dono. Your teachings live on powerfully within my blade.)

I knocked out the man I had been ordered to spare—likely for negotiations after the battle—and turned my sword on the rest. I was not told to let them live, yet even so I struck with restraint. If they died, Zanoba-dono would not blame me.

Four swordsmen of middling ability, three who seemed adept in magic. My role was to obstruct them and shield Zanoba-dono from sorcery. His body is indeed unyielding—so much that even Mother Eris once said cleaving him in two would be difficult—but against magic, he is terribly vulnerable. He was never meant to fight alone.

“‘Beheading Prince’ Zanoba, eh? I too was once a mercenary of the borderlands. I know your tales well… My name is Storgul, North Saint Style.”

“Indeed. I am Zanoba Shirone. And your opponent is I.”

The clash between Storgul of the North Saint Style and Zanoba-dono began. Meanwhile, I held back the other seven attackers at his rear.

Individually, they were weaker than me, and my blended swordsmanship—drawing upon all three great styles—kept them at bay. Already, one swordsman had fallen. If all went well, Aisha-san would soon hear my cry and bring either adventurers or Cliff-dono to aid us.

“Curse this hardness! Then take this—North God Style: Falling Tear Bullet!”

“Arm Sever!”

“Tch—damn you…!”

“Water God Style Art: Severing Fang Throw!”

Having abandoned victory with the sword alone, Storgul attempted to blind Zanoba-dono with the Falling Tear Bullet. But I cut down the powder bag with Arm Sever, spoiling the technique. In retaliation, he hurled a dagger my way, which I deflected with the shield hidden beneath my cloak.

Both his hands spent, my focus drawn to blocking the dagger—an enemy blade rushed at me from behind.

“This is the end, devil!”

“WoOOOOooon!”

“Leo!!”

It was Leo, the first to answer my call, who tore out the throat of the man about to strike me down.

“Leo! Carry me!”

“Woof!”

I immediately kicked off my shoes, leapt onto Leo’s back, and with his immense speed charged through the battlefield. From atop him, I cut down one of the magicians in passing with a full-force slash.

“North God Style Art: Horse-Cutting Slash! That makes five left!”