Caught.
Tmaut calmly aimed beyond the gas mist. Though hidden from view, he was certain.
This is caught.
The Empire had killed pure engineering in an attempt to maintain the privileges of magicians, but it was different in the Demon Realm.
In order to overcome the tragedy of not being able to use the magic stones mined from the Demon Realm due to the Empire’s restrictions, they focused on pure engineering instead of magic engineering.
It’s unbelievable that the Craft clan, who seduced the Great Demon and conquered the impregnable Demon Realm, could be killed like this.
Although the moderates didn’t cooperate and brought a vintage blunderbuss instead of a modern shotgun, it wasn’t a big deal. Even an old firearm could decimate an opponent of the same rank in the hands of a quasi-knight.
If he could cut off the bloodline of the Craft clan here, he would have something to confidently discuss with the reincarnated Demon King born somewhere according to the prophesy. The hardliners would gain support from the future Demon King by ousting the moderates.
However, what troubled him was the possibility of Craft hiding behind the gas mist and escaping.
“Don’t hide like a coward! Is that how a clan leader of Craft behaves? Aren’t you ashamed in front of your ancestors?”
Tmaut scrutinized the purple mist, aiming his firearm. The fog, which barely allowed visibility, remained still and silent.
Was it a mistake to use shotgun fire to push the fog aside and confirm Craft’s form?
The Craft, who approached from behind without a sound, suddenly hiding their position raised his alertness. So he shot before it was too late, but was it a wrong judgment?
Even if Craft toyed with people through sinister schemes, they probably had never actually seen firearms reflecting advanced pure engineering, boasting overwhelming power.
“Have you run away? You coward! You Craft scum have always been like this! Whenever a situation becomes unfavorable, you betray even your oath to the gods and just run away!”
Though examining the gas mist thoroughly, Tmaut found it difficult to contain his anger.
For a moment, the form of Craft revealed through the gunfire was shocking for a demon. To leisurely ride a broom while not even being a grand magician! Wasn’t it reminiscent of the late Demon King’s flight?
How could that be possible? Craft was the vanguard of the Demon Realm invasion. They must have somehow stolen the Demon King’s magical techniques through various ploys.
For now, it was likely stored somewhere in a warehouse due to controversy, but now that the Craft clan had fallen, they were finally able to pull it out.
“How far will you humiliate us?”
In his fury, Tmaut suddenly heard faint footsteps. The light footfalls reminiscent of a girl. A hint of someone approaching stealthily.
So they hadn’t run away.
Experience refined during his rise to quasi-knight suppressed his excitement and allowed him to respond. His body turned and the muzzle aimed toward the sound.
A human silhouette briefly reflected in the gas mist.
Caught.
Tmaut pulled the trigger.
A deafening sound echoed. Flames surged, and the barrage swept across the front. The purple gas was pushed away like a storm, revealing the outcome.
Numerous bullet-riddled autumn coats flapped in the air, ownerless.
Tmaut’s eyes widened.
In that moment, a magic stone knife flew, piercing the coat. The knife struck Tmaut’s gas mask off. Gas poured in, creating an awful stench.
Ugh.
Tmaut quickly held his breath. Meanwhile, he discarded the fired gun and kicked up the loaded firearm at his feet, grabbing it.
Where are you? Where are you?
The muzzle frantically aimed around.
The gas mist remained calm.
Maintaining his vigilance, he shouted to a nearby subordinate.
“Throw a spare mask!”
The unseen subordinate in the gas responded and moved. With them came a chilling sound of flesh tearing and screams. The sound of a body collapsing resonated especially loudly.
Tmaut’s spine turned cold. He pressed a hand against the crack in his broken mask.
“Don’t think you can kill me with just gas!”
He gestured near his face. The power of a quasi-knight created a gust, pushing away the air. Most of the gas was driven away, and breathable air was exhaled.
“I never thought that.”
A hazy voice came from behind.
Tmaut quickly turned around.
Pink hair fluttered. The muzzle aimed, and the girl’s palm slapped down on the barrel. The shockwave burst. The girl’s overwhelming strength tore through Tmaut’s grip, sending the gun soaring into the sky.
“Ugh!”
The girl’s sword strike came rushing at him.
Tmaut drew a one-handed sword to counter. His posture, momentum, and timing were all lacking.
But his opponent was still an unrefined genius not yet of the realm. The difference in realms rendered minor conditions unimportant. A quasi-knight’s strike could cut through steel.
He would cut through her with his sword.
The blade clashed. Sparks flew and noise erupted.
Tmaut felt an intense resistance. His eyes widened.
Why wasn’t it cutting?
A thought crossed his mind.
The Craft clan possessed an indestructible magic sword.
The magic sword sealed with the Great Demon.
His gaze landed on the girl’s sword.
This traitorous Great Demon!
Having been betrayed by Craft twice and yet again…!
The girl pressed the blade, the cross-guard entwined, and a deafening noise erupted. The shockwave pushed the purple gas away.
Tmaut pushed his muscles against the flow. The cult’s magic stone awakening potion created a power beyond human limits. A slender girl was nothing to contend with. His arm muscles bulged, and the veins swelled.
“This puny sword is nothing!”
Screaming, Tmaut felt a sudden pressure. The girl’s overwhelming strength broke his stance, forcing him down to one knee.
What is this…?
The girl seized the moment of Tmaut’s emotional gap and pushed the entwined cross-guard aside. The tense situation broke unexpectedly. Tmaut’s sword could no longer withstand his own strength and struck the air.
Tmaut perceived death.
His gaze turned to the girl, poised to strike.
But the girl wore a dazed smile and actually let go of her magic sword. In slow motion, the sword fell, powerless.
What?
Seizing the opportunity, Tmaut quickly regained his balance from the fallen stance. The newly formed strike aimed at the defenseless girl.
The girl’s hand reached skyward. The fallen gun landed in her hand. Spinning, the muzzle aimed.
With a dazedly joyful look in her eyes, the girl spoke.
“Bang~♥”
Seeing her ecstatic demeanor, Tmaut flared with rage.
Craft!
You dare treat death like this…!
The trigger was pulled.
A deafening roar rose as the barrage shredded flesh.
#
Pastel lay sprawled out on the outdoor patient bed like discarded laundry.
Medical personnel hurriedly moved around, treating students poisoned by the gas.
“Ugh ugh.”
Having to deal with the aftermath.
A strong sense of fatigue washed over her. She felt an emptiness inside as if it were hollow with every exhale.
Hormonal friend, you had too much fun.
Ugh.
A voice came from the adjacent bed.
“I’ll recover on my own, just give me painkillers and go. Ah. Since I’m a student, I should be respectful, right? I’ll do that next time since I’m tired today.”
Duchess Elshia was speaking informally to the professor. The professor, bewildered, couldn’t even scold her.
After finishing various inappropriate banters, Elshia approached with slightly unsteady footsteps.
Ugh.
Pastel struggled to turn her body. She shifted from lying flat to a more comfortable position.
She saw a silver-haired girl gazing down at her.
“Hello, Elshia. How are you feeling?”
“Not bad.”
“You just inhaled toxic gas.”
“I’m a quasi-knight, so.”
Is it all right just to breathe some clean air?
Heh.
Elshia hesitated. Glancing around at the medical activities in progress, she gathered her thoughts and spoke.
“I have a suggestion, give me time to think about it.”
Ugh.
What suggestion?
Pastel blankly racked her brain.
By the way, that long-winded Tmaut had accused her.
That she showed her true self to Elshia with the intent to shake the successor competition of the Belmont Duke family.
And that if she didn’t receive support from Craft, she would have to be afraid of retaliation from Craft, now equipped with her true form.
Gah.
“It’s a misunderstanding!”
She sprang upright from the bed.
Waving her arms wildly.
“It’s a misunderstanding! A misunderstanding! Good, good Pastel doesn’t make threats like that to friends!”
Pastel shouted.
“I’m not two-faced to begin with! I’m just as I appear! Just as I appear!”
I just love…
“I just love money and power, pink Pastel!”
From the next bed, murmured words were heard.
“Anyways, do you really love money and power?”
It was Melissa, resting in a laid-back position.
Though Pastel wanted to refute Melissa’s tone, she couldn’t since it was accurate.
Gah.
Good Pastel, who cannot lie…!
Why do they view this good Pastel so negatively?
It’s all that long-winded Tmaut’s fault!
Even though the hormonal friend had done good by punishing evil, once words were spoken, they couldn’t be taken back!
Ugh!
Pastel clutched her head. Her pink hair tangled between her fingers.
Elshia twitched at the sight. Like a debtor meeting a loan shark, she shrank and averted her gaze.
“I won’t think about it for too long. I also need time to decide….”
I feel like a completely bad person!
Pastel trembled her hands.
This won’t do!
“No need to think!”
She gently took Elshia’s hand.
“I know all your circumstances!”
Just for the clan leader position, being threatened with death from your siblings.
“If you need my support, just say so anytime!”
Pastel smiled brightly.
“I’ll help you with anything as a friend!”
Anyone would say that Pastel is such a good friend.
“Support…?”
Elshia stared blankly at the bright smile.
“I see. My worries aren’t needed.”
“Yep!”
Just trust me!
“I’ll take the support.”
Elshia, who responded, shrank into a corner.
Tada.
Popular Pastel made another friend (subordinate) today!
Oh yeah.
Melissa gazed at her with astonishment.
