The Berserker’s Fury and the Pitfall

The arena’s dome was draped in canvas, from which a colossal platinum crescent moon hung, casting a holy silver glow upon the field.

As sharp horn blasts echoed all around, the three teams on the field immediately sprang into swift motion, and in an instant, the arena filled with the clatter and clang of metal greaves.

“Concentrate our attack on one team first; don’t let their two sides converge!”

Saranya issued her command amidst the charge, gripping the second handguard between the crossguard and pommel of her greatsword with one hand. With its tip pointed behind her, she surged forward, carrying the immense blade like a meteor breaking from her own formation, leading the charge directly toward Dalia’s forces.

Her assault came from the flank, aimed squarely at Dalia herself, intending to force the opposing eight combatants to alter their orientation and contend with her, a high-threat target.

The purpose of a greatsword lies in shattering formations, maximizing disruption and casualties among the enemy; a greatsword wielder, as an elite unit within the army, must embody a berserker capable of standing alone, bravely embracing their destined fate of being surrounded.

As she closed to striking distance, Saranya tightened both hands on the hilt, dragging the brutish, colossal weapon alongside her body, coiling a fierce offensive behind her in a long-tail stance.

“Damn it, she’s here!”

“That madwoman!”

“Quickly, prepare yourselves!”

The enemy swiftly shifted formation, their long spear tips gleaming with metallic luster, now dangerously close to Saranya’s eyes.

Witnessing this, Saranya’s adrenaline surged, her heart pounding ferociously within her chest.

She caught sight of Dalia, who had been so haughty yesterday, now scrambling like a frightened rabbit amidst the enemy ranks, frantically shouting orders. Saranya couldn’t help but crack a wild, feral grin.

“Haaah!!!”

Saranya plunged into the enemy formation with immense momentum, kicking up waves of dust that spread outwards. Her two-meter greatsword scraped against the ground, sending up showers of sparks as she swung it into the spear wall before her.

Her adversaries were Midas City guards, accustomed to dealing with thieves and ruffians on a daily basis. Now, confronted by such a valiant and courageous strike, they immediately faltered.

“Clear out, you bastards!!!”

Saranya unleashed two cross-slashes. When halberd met greatsword, the first guard to cross blades with her was immediately cleaved to the ground, their armor dented, and a piercing shriek escaped from behind their faceplate.

Several halberds simultaneously struck Saranya, generating a teeth-grinding screech of metal against her armor. Saranya softly chanted the incantation for Ice Armor, and a layer of solid ice materialized over the vital points of her breastplate, deflecting the incoming halberds.

Seizing the moment while her other enemies were off-balance, Saranya ducked and weaved beneath the chaotic spear shafts, plunging deeper into their formation. Simultaneously, her battle-boot struck the flat of her blade, using the leverage to swing the greatsword high over her head.

First, she swept the back edge of her blade upwards, forcing the encroaching enemies to halt. Then, stepping forward toward one opponent, her greatsword arced overhead, delivering another upward slash, its true edge slamming brutally into the foe’s helmet and breastplate, sending this second victim tumbling head over heels. She followed with another powerful kick, her cold boot heel shattering the opponent’s elbow joint.

“Aaaahhhhhhh—”

The crowd roared like a tidal wave, and only then did Saranya realize her teammates had arrived. Aided by her disruptive assault, Paresha had directed the Divine Guards to crash into Dalia’s flank, utterly shattering the enemy’s morale.

“Die!!!”

Dalia’s enraged voice rang out, and Saranya, startled, whirled her head around, her reaction a beat too slow.

A shuttle-shaped blade of light sheared off her shoulder guard, shattering half of her helmet in the process, and the whirling metal fragments gashed her cheek.

Saranya felt only a powerful gust of wind rush past her head, a sudden warmth on her skin, as several warm, wet rivulets streamed down, flowing all the way into her neck.

A ringing filled her ears.

Her vision blurred, enveloped by a crimson haze.

Freed from the confines of her helmet, her silken hair tumbled loose around her ears, a few strands stained with blood, adhering to the corner of her mouth.

“Tch…”

Gasping violently, she spat out the hair she had inadvertently swallowed. After tasting a hint of blood, she feverishly extended her tongue, catching every bead of crimson liquid that trickled down her face.

“Watch out, Aivy’s people are attacking!!!”

Paresha’s anxious shouts echoed in her ears.

A heavy scimitar wielded by a Bloodsail sailor slashed at her from behind. Saranya, with a backhand, seized the attacker’s wrist, then swung the entire person over her head, impaling them upon the halberd of an enemy standing before her.

The blood-red spearhead pierced the sailor’s throat clean through. The man thrashed, a drowning gurgle escaping from his windpipe.

Saranya met the dying man’s gaze with exhilaration, savoring the terror in his eyes, allowing his blood to gush from his carotid artery, drenching her entire body…

“Hah… again… give me more!!!”

Another blade of light struck, and due to its immense speed, Saranya still couldn’t evade it. The luminous blade pierced her armor, lodging itself in her abdomen, and a trickle of blood slid down her lower belly, staining her waist and thighs.

Saranya chanted an incantation, sealing her wound with frost.

“Hah… hah… haaah… Hmph~”

The wound throbbed with cold pain, yet the blood that seeped from it was strangely warm…

Amidst the myriad physical sensations, a strange euphoria spread through her entire being. Saranya shivered subtly, unable to resist rubbing her thigh.

‘This pain, compared to the agony her master usually bestows upon her, is still far from enough…~’

A short distance away, Dalia panted heavily, beginning to conjure her next spell.

“Phillo, go help her!”

“But…”

“Go help her, now!!!”

Paresha issued her command to Phillo with unwavering resolve. Despite his helplessness, Phillo repelled the enemies attempting to flank Paresha with two sweeping slashes, then swiftly moved away from her side.

“Wait—”

Saranya abruptly turned her head, intending to refuse Phillo’s help and urge him to focus on protecting Paresha.

Alas, her warning came a step too late.

Aivy seized her opportunity, loudly chanting an incantation. With a flick of her right arm, she hurled a slender spear of light toward Paresha!

“Miss!!!”

The Divine Guard closest to Paresha turned his back, bravely enduring a direct enemy strike, and desperately blocked Aivy’s spell with his shield.

Aivy curled her lips into a smirk, then raised her left hand. Another spear of light coalesced, arced in a wide loop through the air, and shot straight toward Paresha’s face!

In desperation, Paresha crouched low, raising her sword to block in front of her.

“Ouch!”

“Miss!”

The spear of light severed Paresha’s personal sword, and with a cry of pain, Paresha tumbled to one side. Simultaneously, Dalia raised her short staff, firing a transparent orb of air at Paresha.

“Damn it… Paresha, watch out!”

It was that same air manipulation magic from yesterday!

The orb’s fluctuations were minimal, almost imperceptible to the naked eye. By the time Paresha realized what was happening, it was already too late.

A burst ripped through the air, and Paresha screamed in alarm, flung several meters away to crash headfirst into the Bloodsail sailors’ formation.

“You bastard, I’ll have your head!!!”

Saranya charged toward Dalia, her greatsword held high. Dalia immediately retreated, as the guards before her thrust their halberds forward, intercepting Saranya.

Phillo was consumed by anxiety, wanting to disengage from combat and rescue Paresha multiple times. However, the Divine Guards were already outnumbered, and with all three factions locked in battle, he simply couldn’t break away to tend to Paresha.

Amidst the sailors’ vicious cackles, Paresha rolled around, clutching her head. Someone, she knew not who, delivered a brutal kick to her abdomen. The heavy blow sent her into a violent fit of coughing, her face smeared with dust and tears.

“Ugh… Uwaah! You… ah—!”

The ground vanished beneath Paresha, and she plunged into a pit within the arena.

The pit was deep; anyone falling in would surely suffer severe injuries and find it nearly impossible to climb out on their own.

Saranya and the Divine Guards’ shouts rose and fell in a desperate chorus, while even the spectators on the sidelines cried out in unison.

Truthfully, no one wished to see such a young, vulnerable girl fall into a deep pit, her fate unknown.

“Help… help!”

Paresha’s voice had not vanished; clutching a ceremonial dagger in both hands, its blade embedded in the pit wall, she hung suspended in the abyss. She strained to reach upwards, but given the distance she had fallen, she could no longer reach the edge of the pit on her own.

Aivy gracefully strode to the pit’s edge, bending over to observe the disheveled Paresha.

“Hmm… how pathetic. Perhaps it would be better for you to just fall in and die. After all, judging by our abilities, only I am fit to be Vero’s divine priestess… As for you, little one, you’ll soon—”

Aivy leaned lower and lower, eventually kneeling by the pit’s edge, cradling her braided hair in both hands, her voice trembling with excitement,

“You’ll soon have nothing left… Paresha…”

Aivy recited a lengthy incantation, and a shimmering curtain of light began to descend from the pit’s rim, slowly pressing down upon the despair-ridden Paresha…

By the time Aivy rose, silence had fallen within the pit.