Absolute Defense

Though I had impulsively signed up for the event with a sense of reluctant obligation, the news spread faster than my regrets could settle.

In just a single lunch break, the revelation that the villainess noble, Lilliana von Eckhart, would personally participate in the Silver Moon Magic-Martial Festival had flown across the academy as if on wings.

Some were shocked, others scoffed, and then there were those…

Like my peculiar fans who had emerged after I shattered the Holy Appraisal Stone; they were utterly frenzied.

Yet, for me, the most pressing issue now was…

Training.

After school, at the second training ground.

The setting sun painted the grassy fields in hues of golden-red.

I sat on a folding chair in the shade of a tree, a chair Ella had thoughtfully brought for me.

Clutching a cup of iced lemonade, I watched the two figures ahead, both drenched in sweat.

“Hmph!”

With a spirited cry, Ella brandished her staff.

Several golden light arrows, like homing missiles, precisely shattered three distant moving targets.

Having spent this time immersed in the library, the original story’s Saintess of Light seemed to have taken a peculiar turn in her combat style.

Her light magic was no longer merely warm, healing radiance; instead, it had gained a distinct…

Piercing, fierce offensive power.

On the other side.

Beatrix Eisen moved like a phantom.

She didn’t unleash a burst of battle aura, simply swinging her sword.

However, each swing tore through the air with an agonizing shriek.

The techniques from that incomplete sword skill manuscript had been deconstructed, reassembled, and transformed into a more concise, yet far deadlier, killing art.

Bang!

The tempered steel dummy used for practice was sliced clean in half at the waist by a single stroke of her sword.

The cut was as smooth as a mirror.

“Hoo…”

Beatrix sheathed her sword, flicking away the metal shavings from its blade.

She turned to face me.

In that instant, her previously murderous gaze softened, transforming into the expectant look of a large dog awaiting praise.

She strode quickly before me and knelt on one knee.

“Lady Lilliana, is this level… satisfactory?”

Sweat trickled down her chin, and her chest heaved from the intense exertion.

The warrior’s heat emanated from her, mingling with the scent of leather and metal.

I took a sip from my straw, feeling a touch of resignation.

‘Satisfactory?’

‘More than satisfactory, it was terrifying, honestly.’

‘That dummy was made of tempered steel; I wouldn’t even dare look at it, yet she cut through it like tofu.’

‘Is this the future Sword Saint?’

‘Terrifying indeed.’

“…It’s acceptable.”

I offered a noncommittal appraisal.

All to maintain my prestige.

“However, too much sharpness can lead to breakage. Try to… temper it slightly.”

‘In truth, I feared she would demolish the arena, and then I’d be stuck with the bill.’

But Beatrix clearly interpreted my words differently.

Her body stiffened, and a flash of enlightenment flickered in her eyes.

“Yes… conceal the blade in its sheath, kill in one strike. I understand.”

She lowered her head, greedily inhaling the slightly cool air around me, as if to calm the boiling battle intent within her.

Just then, Ella also ran over.

“Lady Lilliana! What about me? How was my light magic?”

She squatted on my other side, looking up at me, her hair clinging to her flushed cheeks.

“Very… spirited.”

I truly couldn’t think of an appropriate adjective to describe magic that used light like a laser.

“Hehe…”

Ella giggled foolishly, then naturally rested her cheek against my knee.

“As long as I can protect you, my Lady, it’s fine if I become even fiercer.”

Watching my two little hangers-on, one on each side, I sighed.

“Since you’re both so enthusiastic, let’s devise a strategy then.”

At the mention of “strategy,” both their expressions instantly turned solemn.

This was a three-person team battle; coordination was paramount.

“The strategy is simple.”

I adjusted my glasses, speaking in an extremely serious and solemn tone:

“Once the match begins, I will stand at the very back of the arena.”

“The two of you will stand in front of me, eliminating all opponents.”

“Unless absolutely necessary, do not let me move a single step. And do not let anyone, not even the residual shockwave of a fireball spell, touch the hem of my clothes.”

This was my strategy.

Commonly known as… two-protect-one.

Or, to put it more bluntly…

I’ll be idling in the back, while you two fight desperately in the front.

It was an utterly selfish, lazy, and utterly team-spiritless strategy.

However.

The moment they heard this strategy.

Beatrix and Ella’s pupils violently constricted.

They exchanged glances, both seeing deep shock reflected in the other’s eyes.

This was…

The King’s Throne Tactic!

Beatrix cried out in her heart.

‘Lady Lilliana is completely entrusting her safety to us!’

‘She is using this method to tell us…’

‘She is the King, and we are her strongest walls!’

‘If the King is forced to move, it is a knight’s dereliction of duty!’

‘If the King is affected, it is a guard’s incompetence!’

‘This is a…’

‘Ultimate trial of loyalty!’

“YES!!!”

Their voices echoed through the sky, carrying a resolve to face death without fear.

“I swear!”

Beatrix gripped my right hand, her knuckles turning white.

“Even if my sword shatters, and my body breaks, I will never let even a speck of dust… taint you!”

“Me too!”

Ella hugged my left leg tightly.

“I will burn all my magic to weave an unbreaking barrier for you!”

Watching them, looking as if they were about to blow up a bunker, I silently took a sip of lemonade.

‘…There’s no need to die or shatter, really. If we can’t win, we can always surrender.’

But I didn’t dare say it aloud.

The atmosphere had been built up so dramatically; dampening the mood now would be rude.

Just as our side’s atmosphere was evolving into a bizarre oath-swearing ceremony between monarch and vassals.

An ill-timed round of applause drifted from the training ground entrance.

“Clap, clap, clap!”

“What a touching display of master-servant devotion. So, the Eckhart family’s young lady, your so-called participation, is just finding two human shields and then hiding behind them, trembling?”

I turned my gaze towards the sound.

A group of students in white uniforms, adorned with golden cross emblems on their chests, approached.

Leading them was a blond, blue-eyed boy who, while handsome, possessed a pompous, sneering expression that just begged for a punch.

Gabriel.

An orphan adopted by the Church, a Saint Son candidate with exceptionally high light affinity.

He was also the captain of the Church’s proxy squad for this event.

He strode before us, looking down at me, still seated in my chair, with unconcealed disgust and contempt in his eyes.

“I heard everything. ‘Don’t let me move a single step’? Ha!”

Gabriel scoffed.

“Such a tactic, treating comrades as cannon fodder, could only be conceived by a selfish, shameless villainess like you.”

“Hey, you commoner, and you, knight.”

He turned his gaze to Ella and Beatrix, his tone laced with a hint of pity.

“You’ve been deceived by her. She’s merely using you. When the competition starts, the moment danger strikes, she will undoubtedly be the first to push you forward to die.”

“It’s not too late to abandon darkness and turn to light. I can allow you to join the Church’s reserve squad…”

Zing…!

Boom…!

His words were cut short.

A chilling sword edge was already pressed against his Adam’s apple.

Simultaneously, a highly compressed orb of light, the size of a basketball and extremely unstable, hovered mere centimeters from his face.

Gabriel’s voice abruptly ceased.

Cold sweat instantly drenched his back.

Beatrix held her sword with one hand.

Her golden eyes were devoid of any warmth, as if she were looking at a corpse.

“Take back your words.”

Her voice was soft, yet it carried a suffocating killing intent.

“If you dare to use that filthy mouth again, to utter a single word insulting Lady Lilliana…”

“I will cut out your tongue and feed it to the wild dogs in the mountains.”

On the other side, Ella, usually so soft, cute, and cuddly, now tilted her head, wearing an utterly twisted smile.

“The Church’s… backup?”

The orb of light in her hand emitted a sizzling electrical hum.

“Ngh, you know? Lady Lilliana’s fingers… they’re very warm, you know.”

“Someone like you… who isn’t even worthy of shining her shoes, dares to question her love for us?”

“Want to be blown away?”

Gabriel froze in place, not daring to move.

His accompanying lackeys were even paler with fright.

They never imagined that these two girls, who were supposedly in need of saving, had transformed into…

Completely uncommunicative mad dogs.

“Stop it.”

I sighed, setting down my empty cup.

“This is a training ground, not a slaughterhouse.”

I stood up, dusting off imaginary specks from my skirt.

“Beatrix, put your sword away. Ella, dispel that thing.”

“…Yes.”

Though both looked reluctant, they dutifully obeyed my command, retreating behind me.

Gabriel finally felt as though he had come back to life; he stumbled back a few steps, his face ashen.

“You… you actually indulge your subordinates in violence!”

“Violence?”

I adjusted my glasses, slowly walking towards him.

He instinctively tried to retreat, but found himself pinned by my unassuming gaze, unable to move a single step.

“Gabriel, my dear student.”

I looked at him as one would a buzzing fly.

“You just said I was treating them as cannon fodder?”

I reached out, gently, to straighten his tie, which had become crooked from his fright.

The gesture was delicate.

But in Gabriel’s eyes, it was nothing less than the caress of death.

He stiffened completely, cold sweat pouring down his back.

“You’ve misunderstood one thing.”

I leaned close to his ear, speaking softly in a voice only we two could hear.

“It’s not that I need their protection.”

“Rather… I am giving them an opportunity to stand by my side.”

“After all…”

My fingertip brushed against the hem of his uniform, sending a bone-chilling cold through him.

“If I don’t give them something to do, they might… find it hard to resist tearing apart annoying pests like you.”

Having said that, I smiled and patted his shoulder.

“See you at the competition, Saint Son. I hope that by then… your light will be a little more resilient than that stone from the other day.”

I turned, leading my two loyal protectors, and left the training ground without a backward glance.

Only Gabriel remained, standing in the lingering glow of the setting sun, clutching his throat and gasping for breath.

In that brief moment of contact.

He hadn’t sensed any evil.

He had only felt…

An arrogance so vast it plunged him into despair, an arrogance on a completely different plane of existence.

And… the fear of being judged as mere prey.