At these words, every eye in the square turned to the beautiful young lady seated on the high platform. The nobles were already well aware of the situation, so their faces betrayed no surprise. But the common folk, who knew nothing of what was to come, were utterly astounded. From the day they were born, these townsfolk had never laid eyes on a high-ranked swordsman. Thus, in the tales whispered among the masses, high-ranked swordsmen were depicted as towering, invincible giants capable of felling a hundred men with a single strike. Now, hearing Pelzer announce that two high-ranked swordsmen were about to enter the arena, the common folk erupted in excitement. They craned their necks, scanning Ophelia's surroundings intently, eager to catch a glimpse of these legendary warriors. But their search proved disappointing. There were no two-meter-tall behemoths standing at her side, no silent, enigmatic swordsmen cloaked in mystery. In truth, the scene before them looked nothing more than a noble young lady out for an outing with her friends and maids… Could it be that the two fabled high-ranked swordsmen were still hiding backstage, waiting to make their entrance?
Upon hearing Pelzer's words, Ophelia merely raised an eyebrow and spoke in a calm, unhurried tone, "If I may, Lord Pelzer, I should like to clarify one thing with you."
"Oh? What is it?"
At Ophelia's inquiry, Pelzer's lips curled into a slight smirk. He narrowed his eyes, studying the young lady before him carefully, not the least bit swayed by her question. This exchange was part of his plan from the very beginning—his earlier provocation had been a deliberate test. If Ophelia truly had two high-ranked swordsmen in her retinue, she would never be able to remain composed in the face of such a challenge. Conversely, if she were merely bluffing, she would be forced to resort to excuses and delays to buy time. While Pelzer grudgingly acknowledged that Ophelia was handling the situation admirably, it was all for naught—without the backing of genuine power, any lie was ultimately hollow and meaningless.
"As you so aptly put it," Ophelia began, "I do have two highly skilled swordsmen by my side…"
This time, she did not explicitly label them as high-ranked swordsmen as she had before. Instead, she used a deliberately vague descriptor. This only served to bolster Pelzer's confidence in his own judgment. Highly skilled? What exactly constituted "highly skilled"? The term was worlds apart from the rigid hierarchy of swordsman ranks. To the common folk, a mid-ranked swordsman was already considered "highly skilled." And if skill alone were the measure, the maid who had defeated a mid-ranked swordsman unarmed and without using any soul power earlier could also be deemed "highly skilled." But… "highly skilled" and "high-ranked swordsman" were two entirely different concepts, were they not?
"And judging by your tone, Lord Pelzer, it seems you intend to have both of them enter the arena," Ophelia continued, pausing for a moment and casting a meaningful glance at the silent red-robed swordsman standing in the center of the square. "If I am not mistaken, this red-robed swordsman is merely of mid-ranked strength. Are you certain you wish to pit two high-ranked swordsmen against him?"
Just as I thought.
Pelzer stifled a laugh at Ophelia's question, but maintained a solemn, earnest expression on his face.
"If you are worried about that, Lady Ophelia, there is no need. In truth, I have complete faith in my subordinate. Even against two high-ranked swordsmen, he is more than capable of holding his own. Unless… Lady Ophelia lacks confidence in her own warriors?"
The words were a blatant taunt, dripping with undisguised distrust. But even in the face of Pelzer's mockery, Ophelia remained smiling, as if she had not heard a word he said.
"Since you are so confident, Lord Pelzer, then I shall rest easy," she replied.
With that, Ophelia fell silent, saying no more. She smoothed out the folds of her dress and settled back into her chair. And as she did so, the two young girls who had been whispering softly by her side suddenly stood up. Hand in hand, they wore sweet, innocent smiles as they made their way down from the high platform toward the square below.
The challengers are two little girls?!
Virtually every onlooker stared in stunned disbelief, their eyes wide as saucers. By the sacred Mana, this was utterly preposterous! Why would two girls no older than their early teens be stepping into the arena at such a prestigious martial tournament? What in the world was going on? As they turned their gazes back to Ophelia, their expressions grew decidedly odd. Though she had only sent two representatives into the arena so far, each time had been an unexpected spectacle that had stolen the show completely. Earlier, Charlotte, a delicate young maid, had effortlessly disabled a mid-ranked warrior unarmed. That alone had been beyond anyone's wildest imagination. And now, she was sending two little girls—barely out of childhood—to face a powerful swordsman wielding a magic weapon?
Most of the crowd knew little about the subtle differences in strength between swordsmen of different ranks. But they still vividly remembered how the red-robed swordsman had defeated his opponent in the blink of an eye with his magic sword. Thus, they had already subconsciously labeled the figure shrouded in red as a master swordsman. This man was undoubtedly incredibly powerful. In contrast, the two girls standing opposite him were beautiful, petite, and utterly adorable—looking like nothing so much as two exquisitely dressed dolls, delicate and fragile, as if they would shatter at the slightest touch. Were these fragile, endearing girls really going to fight? And if they were going to fight, surely they needed weapons? But the two girls were dressed only in black and white dresses, carrying parasols of the same colors as they walked down to the arena. Could it be that they intended to fight with those parasols?
As the crowd buzzed with speculation, the two girls reached the center of the square. Still holding hands, they fixed the red-robed man with bright, innocent smiles—as if the figure standing before them was not an enemy to be defeated, but a friend to be played with.
"Big brother, do you want to play a game with Messiah?"
"Big brother, do you want to play a game with Semia?"
The girls' odd, childlike words caused the red-robed man to pause for a moment. But he quickly recovered, letting out a cold laugh as he raised his longsword, holding it horizontally before him.
"Very well, young ladies. I shall play a game with you… though I wonder what sort of game you have in mind?"
"A very interesting game," Messiah replied.
"A very fun game," Semia echoed.
"Will big brother help us play?"
"Will big brother play with us?"
The girls spoke in unison, then exchanged a glance, giggling as they released their hands and took a step apart—one to the left, one to the right. Facing the Wind of Darkness, they raised their parasols in unison.
"Then… let the game begin."
Their voices rang out as one.
In the next instant, the white-clad figure shot forward like a bolt of lightning, hurtling toward the red-robed man.
So fast!
The Wind of Darkness only reacted when the girl was upon him. He stared in shock, his eyes widening as the parasol loomed larger and larger in his vision—he had never expected her to move with such blinding speed. He instinctively tried to raise his sword to block, but it was too late. As knights, both Messiah and Semia were far beyond the reach of ordinary warriors. The figure standing before them was merely a mid-ranked swordsman—and even with the aid of a magic weapon, he possessed no strength that could possibly threaten the twin sisters.
"Ugh!!"
The white parasol struck the red-robed man square in the knee. A wave of indescribable, searing pain shot through his body. For a split second, his mind went completely blank. He had activated his defensive soul aura—so why had her attack been able to hurt him?
In the next moment, that confusion turned to abject terror.
High-ranked swordsmen—they really are high-ranked swordsmen!!
But by then, the realization had come far too late.
Hit by Messiah's full-force blow, the red-robed man went flying through the air like a tattered rag doll. He traced a parabolic arc before plummeting toward the ground. But he never felt the hard, solid impact of the earth against his back. For waiting directly beneath his falling body was the other girl, clad in black.
"Big brother, let's play together," Semia said, her voice as sweet as ever.
The black parasol tore through the air, striking the man's left hand with a thunderous crack.
"!!"
The immense recoil and impact made the man feel as if his body were being seized by two invisible hands, twisted and wrenched in opposite directions with agonizing force. At that moment, his left hand and left foot went completely numb. A knight's attack was more than enough to reduce a swordsman of his caliber to ashes in the blink of an eye. That he was still alive was not due to any stroke of luck on his part, nor had he somehow managed to evade the full brunt of their power. No—the twin sisters had deliberately held back their strength. Otherwise, the Wind of Darkness would already be nothing more than a pile of mangled flesh on the ground.
If Charlotte's fighting style was one of grace and agility, the sisters' approach was one of brutal, unrelenting directness. They wielded their parasols as if they were lances—swinging, thrusting, jabbing, pressing—their movements so fast they left the crowd's eyes spinning. The poor man was tossed back and forth between them like a tennis ball, his screams of pain ringing out across the square. He had tried to fight back, gritting his teeth and mustering every ounce of strength he possessed—but against the overwhelming might of their superior rank, he stood no chance at all. The expensive magic longsword at his waist was utterly useless, completely irrelevant to the fight unfolding before him.
"Huff…"
Watching the battle unfold, Ophelia let out a long sigh and closed her eyes. This sight was all too familiar to her. During her days at Twilight Castle, she had been tossed around like a ball by these two sisters, completely powerless to defend herself. And unfortunately, as a soul rather than a living human, she had never been granted the "special treatment" the red-robed man was receiving now. The sisters had unleashed the full force of their attacks on her every single time. If they had used even a fraction of that power against the red-robed man, there would be nothing left of him on the square now but a puddle of blood and gore.
"By the sacred Mana…"
Wen stared at the scene unfolding before him, taking a deep breath, utterly lost for words. Though the shock the twin sisters had given him earlier had already prepared him for the unexpected, seeing them toy with Pelzer's most trusted warrior so effortlessly filled him with a fresh wave of astonishment and fear from the depths of his soul.
"Flames of Dominion!!"
After being sent flying by Semia once again, the red-robed man finally spotted a fleeting chance to counterattack. As he hurtled toward Messiah, he swung his sword with all his strength, shouting the incantation. The dancing flames reignited along the blade of his sword, roaring toward the white-haired girl standing before him.
"Ah!!"
At the sight, a cry of alarm went up from the crowd. Most of them still vividly remembered the horrific fate that had befallen Griffith. Naturally, they feared the worst for the young girl. But the roaring crimson flames, so menacing and full of destructive power, seemed to mean nothing to Messiah at all. Faced with the oncoming inferno, the girl merely let out a silvery laugh and snapped her parasol open with a sharp *pop*.
The crimson firestorm crashed into the open parasol—but instead of engulfing it in flames as the man had expected, the fire seemed to vanish into thin air upon contact, as if it had been doused by a thousand years of ice. The red-robed man could only watch in stunned disbelief as the parasol, which had bloomed like a flower, snapped shut again. Then he heard the girl's soft, mocking whisper in his ear.
"Big brother, that's not how you use a magic weapon, you know?"
With those words, the man's body was struck square by the white parasol once more, sending him flying high into the air. But this time, unlike before, Messiah did not remain rooted to the spot. She leaped into the air after him, raising her white parasol high above her head.
"White Lightning that Rends the Night!"
"!!"
At Messiah's cry, a bolt of lightning crashed down from the sky, striking the man's body directly. His entire frame seized up, wracked with numbness, his downward momentum grinding to a halt for a split second. And in that split second, Semia—who had been waiting, coiled like a spring—thrust her black parasol forward with all her might. A brilliant aura of soul energy coalesced around the tip of the parasol, erupting into a beam of pure black light that slammed into the man's body.
"BOOM!!"
A deafening explosion echoed across the center of the square. Many in the crowd clapped their hands over their ears instinctively. But in the next moment, they watched as a figure clad in red crashed heavily into the ground, creating a massive crater in the solid stone beneath him.
Soul Blade Aura—high-ranked swordsmen!!
At that moment, virtually every noble in attendance stared in dumbfounded shock. Before the battle began, they had never imagined, never even considered, that this fight would bring them such a shocking surprise. But now, they were forced to revise their opinions completely. They were certain beyond a shadow of a doubt that the attack the black-haired girl had unleashed was the exclusive technique of a high-ranked swordsman—the Soul Blade Aura! Admittedly, she had wielded it like a knight's lance, so its form differed somewhat from the standard manifestation of the technique. But judging by its sheer power, it was every bit as devastating as any high-ranked swordsman's attack.
By the sacred Mana—two high-ranked swordsmen who look no older than ten years old?!
At that moment, everyone felt as if their minds had turned to mush. Two high-ranked swordsmen—such a formidable pair was a rarity even among the greatest noble houses! Oh wait, no—make that three. Rumor had it that the lord of the Twilight Forest was also a high-ranked swordsman. Though most had dismissed the tale as nonsense before—after all, it was unheard of for a man barely twenty years old to attain the rank of high-ranked swordsman. But now? Now that they had witnessed two even more impossible figures with their own eyes, that once-ludicrous claim suddenly seemed "very possible" indeed.
Three high-ranked swordsmen?
If the nobles had felt confused and perplexed by their clan's handling of the Twilight Forest dispute before, all their doubts vanished in that instant. A noble house with three high-ranked warriors in its ranks was an adversary no one in their right mind would dare to provoke! Some nobles immediately began plotting how to curry favor with the Felix family after the tournament. Others, from smaller, weaker clans, resolved to withdraw their support if the Byrd family made any decisions detrimental to the Twilight Forest. After all, their opponents boasted not just three high-ranked warriors, but also a member of the royal family! If conflict were to break out between them, the Felix family would hold the moral and military high ground. What could they possibly do to oppose them? Power struggles between noble houses were always fought using their subordinates as pawns—but that was only feasible when the two sides were evenly matched and the potential gains justified the risks. Faced with an opponent powerful enough to annihilate their entire clans single-handedly, even the most ambitious nobles knew better than to throw their lives away.
"It seems the matter has been settled," Ophelia said, turning her gaze away from the square and fixing Pelzer with a smile. The latter's face was ashen, his lips pressed into a thin, tight line, not a single word escaping him.
I've been tricked!!
From the moment his subordinate had been sent flying through the air without any hope of resistance, Pelzer had realized with a sinking heart that he had fallen straight into their trap! But by then, it was already too late. His miscalculation had resulted in his most loyal and capable subordinate being gravely injured—injured so badly that he would likely never be fit to fight again. And after this humiliating defeat, his reputation would plummet to the lowest depths imaginable. Pelzer could already picture the sneers and disdainful looks he would receive from the other clan members from this day forward. The mockery that had faded away after his earlier setbacks would come flooding back—doubled, perhaps even tripled in intensity! After all, this martial tournament was an internal affair of the Byrd family. The shame of this defeat would fall squarely on his shoulders alone, leaving everyone else unscathed! It was for this very reason that Pelzer could already imagine the smug, arrogant expressions on their faces! Far from boosting his own prestige with this gambit, he had only succeeded in elevating the Felix family's standing to unprecedented heights. After witnessing the twin girls' performance, what fool in the Byrd family would dare to oppose the old patriarch's decision regarding the Twilight Forest territory? From now on, the only thing the other nobles would care about was how to ingratiate themselves with the Felix family and these powerful high-ranked swordsmen to win their favor and goodwill! And with that, all his carefully laid plans had crumbled to dust in the space of a single moment. Not only that, but his last chance to redeem himself had vanished completely. Instead of proving his competence to the clan, he had only succeeded in demonstrating his utter incompetence and short-sightedness to every noble present! The only question left in his mind was how his father would view his performance this day. If he were merely confined to his chambers to reflect on his mistakes as he had been before, that would be the best-case scenario. But if not…
Wait a minute—Twilight Forest? Twilight Forest? TWILIGHT FOREST!!?
A sudden thought struck Pelzer, his brows furrowing as he stared at the two girls in the center of the square, his jaw tightening with rage. At that moment, a long-standing puzzle seemed to click into place in his mind, the pieces falling together with perfect, horrifying clarity. So that's how it was! So that's what happened!!
Two high-ranked swordsmen… If these two girls truly possessed such terrifying strength, then it was entirely possible that they were the ones who had killed Darros! Which meant that the Felix family was the true culprit behind the failure of his earlier plans! Yes—of course it was! Everything had been going so smoothly until that accursed family had taken over the Twilight Forest. But all the troubles and setbacks had begun the moment they arrived! That's right—this damned family had deliberately sabotaged his plans!
With this realization, Pelzer clenched his fists so tightly that his knuckles turned white, his teeth grinding together in fury. Though his heart burned with an intense rage, his face remained completely expressionless—as if the events unfolding before him had nothing to do with him at all. He even forced a faint smile, nodding at Ophelia.
"That was quite the impressive display, Lady Ophelia."
Damn you, Felix family! One day—one day soon—I will make you pay for this!!
Staring at the young lady before him, Pelzer silently swore a bitter oath in the depths of his heart.