“I know.” Nona replied calmly.
“Oh?”
“You possess a clue to the Hero’s Sword, do you not?”
The Bishop paused, a flicker of understanding crossing his features.
“Indeed, I do. What of it? You don’t actually believe you can wrest it from my grasp, do you?” He erupted into boisterous laughter.
Nona’s proposition was, without a doubt, the most amusing jest he had heard in months. A Hero, currently struggling for survival, dared to covet the clue to the Hero’s Sword that rested in his hands. The sheer audacity of it was enough to make him double over with mirth.
“I had initially dismissed you as merely foolish, but it seems you are far more arrogant than I anticipated. A Hero of your meager ability? I could crush you with a single hand.”
As if to further his mockery of Nona, the Bishop deliberately drew a parchment from his robes. It was inscribed with the coveted clue to the Hero’s Sword.
Then, like a master teasing a pet, he dangled it, shaking his wrist twice. “The clue to the Hero’s Sword is right here. Do you desire it? Heh, then reveal the full extent of your power. Let’s see if you possess even the slightest chance of defeating me.”
His taunts, however, failed to provoke any reaction. Nona stood unwavering, her wooden sword clutched firmly, her composure terrifyingly absolute.
Maintaining such calm was paramount to avoiding any exploitable weaknesses in combat. Impulse and rage rarely led to victory; more often, they ushered in death.
Observing her impassiveness, the Bishop let out a cold snort. His hands emerged from beneath his black robe, and from his forearms, several steel wolf claws snapped into place.
They were so impossibly sharp that even a leaf, fluttering down to rest upon them, was effortlessly sliced in two.
His massive frame subtly hunched, adopting a predatory stance. Nona, in response, drew a deep breath, preparing herself for defense.
Yet, no one could have predicted what transpired next. In a flash, the Bishop appeared directly before her. His razor-sharp wolf claws pierced her abdomen, severing her upper body into three gruesome pieces.
*Thud*—
The girl’s lifeless body collapsed to the ground, blood and viscera spilling forth. Despite having just slain a Hero, the Bishop did not laugh. He simply rotated the wolf claws in his hand, shaking off the lingering blood.
Moments later, a blurry figure materialized behind him. A sword, imbued with magic, plunged towards his heart. He spun, raising his wolf claws to parry the strike.
*Clang!*—
A crisp, metallic ring echoed as their weapons clashed. The Bishop reeled back several steps, his arm tingling from the impact. His gaze then fell upon the wooden sword in Nona’s hand.
“Is this the source of your confidence? To ambush me, hoping to catch me off guard… Heh, how cunning.”
“The feeling is mutual.”
The corpse that the Bishop had torn apart moments before dissolved into motes of dust and vanished. Nona had secretly cast a spell from the very beginning, anticipating his assault.
In battle, there was no such thing as ‘fair’ or ‘foul play’. This was no knightly duel. Whoever survived was in the right.
A Hero, after all, did not make foolish mistakes in combat.
“Then allow me to demonstrate the power granted to us by His Eminence…”
Nona placed one hand on her chest, forming a strange gesture. The Bishop’s aura instantly surged severalfold. With a cold sneer, he lunged, swiping his claws directly at Nona’s wooden sword.
Anticipating the attack, Nona had specifically enchanted her wooden sword with a layer of magic, hoping to prevent it from being torn apart.
“Useless! No matter the weapon, I shall shred it before your very eyes!”
Her actions struck the Bishop as somewhat amusing. What good was magic? Anything he intended to tear apart had never yet found a way to resist him!
As the metallic claws met the magic-sheathed wooden sword, the expected rending did not occur. Instead, a dull thud, heavy enough to momentarily stun him, resonated through the air.
‘What?! His claws couldn’t even scratch the wooden sword?’
Amidst his astonishment, Nona’s wildly beating heart regained its calm. She exhaled, seizing the opportune moment to sweep her wooden sword horizontally, aiming to cleave the Bishop in half at the waist.
This was, in fact, her second ploy: exploiting his arrogance to create an opening for her attack.
Unfortunately, when the disparity in strength was too vast, even the cleverest schemes often proved futile.
Before Nona could even register what the Bishop had done, the instant her wooden sword was about to connect with him, he vanished like a wraith. When he reappeared, he was already roughly three meters away from her.
Seemingly recognizing her tenacity, the Bishop abandoned close-quarters combat. He simply raised his hands, unleashing a barrage of various spells.
Unable to dodge in time, Nona was struck by the magic. She was sent flying backward, crashing heavily onto the ground. Even her wooden sword soared into the air, where the Bishop snatched it.
“Hmph, did you truly think I was powerless against you just because I couldn’t tear your weapon? You’re merely a Gold-rank Hero; do not be so conceited.”
The sharp claws once again attempted to shred the wooden sword, but the result shocked him anew. He had no idea what this wooden sword was made of, but it was undoubtedly a priceless treasure.
“Now that this weapon is in my possession, what can you possibly do, Hero? Your defeat was predestined from the very beginning.”
“To oppose the great Blood God is no different from seeking death.”
Clutching the wooden sword, the Bishop advanced towards the fallen Nona, step by heavy step. His towering figure loomed over her like a mountain, suffocating her with an unbearable sense of oppression.
Her hairpin lay shattered on the ground, golden hair fanned out around her. Her body, still reeling from the magic strike, hadn’t yet regained its mobility. Nona desperately tried to push herself up, to stand, but her body simply wouldn’t obey.
‘Defeat?’
‘Could it be that they, the Heroes, truly stood no chance against the Evil Gods?’
The Bishop’s heavy footsteps echoed in her ears. Her gaze drifted into the distance, where Olivia was surrounded by over a dozen Blood Church zealots, sweat plastering strands of hair to her temples.
“Sharena…”
“Olivia, I never said I’d fight you one-on-one. After all, you’re an ancient elf who’s lived for who knows how long, while I am still young. Wouldn’t a solo fight be you bullying the younger generation?”
The elf named Sharena cracked her long whip, a hint of cunning gleaming in her pretty face. Surrounded, Olivia tightened her grip on her longbow, unleashing her full magic power as she sensed the spells assailing her from all directions.
Olivia was completely on the defensive now. How much longer could she possibly hold out?
The situation was equally dire for Hia on the other side. Although her magical attacks could wound the Head of the Tribunal, he refused to engage her directly, instead summoning the Tribunal Knights.
Even the most potent magic would be diluted and rendered harmless when striking the knights’ combined magic formation. Encircled by them, Hia was like a bird trapped in a cage. The moment her magic reserves were depleted would be the moment of her capture.
Fely still hadn’t returned, likely having encountered difficulties while escorting Ped away.
‘Perhaps, this truly is defeat.’