Chapter 271: The Clown’s Stage (Part 2)

After not seeing her for some time, Samimi had no idea what level Bemore’s Dragon Bomb had evolved to.

Even though she had anticipated this situation from the very beginning.

The next time she met Bemore, it would undoubtedly be a grueling battle. She no longer held an absolute advantage.

The same applied to the yandere Elf murderer, Close. It was hard to say if Samimi could escape unscathed the next time they crossed paths.

However, if she were to face the Pure White Knight, Fabiana, again, she felt confident she could give her a thorough beating. After all, Fabiana was a Shield Guard — she wasn’t suited for duels and only excelled at soaking up damage.

But within the Hero Party, the one who posed a true threat to her —

Was still Jester King Bemore.

‘We are both Magic Users. Only a Magic User can defeat a Magic User.’

‘I am Wood Element, and she is Fire Element.’

‘We are fated rivals.’

‘Hmph.’

At that thought, Samimi actually displayed a hint of anticipation.

She couldn’t be bothered to tangle with the others in the Hero Party.

But if it were Bemore —

She would gladly step on her, over and over again.

“Shalum, what about the special training you mentioned? How do you plan to practice? I’ll help,” Plum Blossom Calculator asked.

“Special training? Right, right, I almost forgot.”

Samimi gave a slight smile.

“The special training is… we are all going to take a bath together.”

“A bath?”

“Alright, everyone has worked hard. We have some high-grade medicinal soup prepared for Aoi. Let’s go together,” Plum Blossom Calculator agreed with a nod.

“Yay! Aoi, stop working. Let’s go play together!”

Samimi pushed the young girl Aoi’s Mana Wheelchair.

The group of girls chatted and laughed, the atmosphere light and pleasant.

“Let’s go, let’s go! To the baths!”

—

The scene shifted.

Inside a guest room of the Third Guild.

The air was oppressive and heavy.

The Royal Capital Hero originally stayed in a single room, but after the Hero of the Gale’s defeat, she was forced to share a room with Bemore.

Reality was just that cruel.

The Hero of the Gale sat on the bed, looking like burnt-out ashes.

Her entire being was devoid of life.

Meanwhile, Bemore sat cross-legged in meditation, appearing as if she were in a deep trance.

The air around her distorted as mana was greedily devoured.

The Sea of Ten Thousand Forests was naturally a place brimming with mana, making it ideal for cultivation.

However, most Magic Users still required a quiet, stable environment.

Ideally, they needed their own magic workshop.

A space filled with “their own aura” was necessary to reach maximum efficiency.

But there were exceptions.

Take Samimi, for instance.

She could cultivate anywhere.

Because —

She had Niubao guarding her, and her heart was sufficiently at peace.

Bemore used to be the opposite type.

She was a socially-anxious maiden.

Leaving her own space made her uncomfortable.

Let alone trying to cultivate.

But now —

That socially-anxious maiden was “dead.”

In her place was the shameless Jester King.

She could cultivate efficiently anywhere, frantically devouring mana.

Her strength was no longer what it used to be.

“Bee… why didn’t you help me?”

After a long silence, the Hero of the Gale finally spoke.

“Did you want me to help you defeat that blonde girl?” Bemore asked back.

“I…”

With just one sentence, the Hero of the Gale was left speechless.

Bemore had gradually taken on the appearance of a “wicked Miworm.”

She had activated a self-preservation mechanism —

If she didn’t give her heart, she wouldn’t get hurt.

Without emotions, she could become stronger.

Yet she was different from Samimi.

Samimi was merely sharp-tongued; she wasn’t heartless.

On the contrary, she was practically overflowing with humanity.

But Bemore —

She was calm, rational, and an observer.

She watched the Hero of the Gale get beaten but didn’t lift a finger.

It wasn’t out of cruelty.

Rather —

It was because she understood her too well.

Helping her would actually be harming her.

The Hero of the Gale was a “righteous protagonist.”

She would not allow herself to win through the hands of another.

Even if she lost, she had to do so fairly.

That was her obsession.

Serina merely had the Divine Official’s Amplification and a Divine Artifact.

And she couldn’t win?

Then why even bother being a protagonist?

Therefore —

The Hero of the Gale had nothing to say.

“Don’t worry,” Bemore said flatly.

“Tomorrow, I’ll help you settle the score.”

“Go find a good sword first, then challenge the Shield Axe Hero again.”

Her tone was calm.

Yet it carried absolute confidence.

But these words —

Only made the Hero of the Gale feel worse.

The loser had no right to speak.

*Knock, knock, knock.*

A knock sounded at the door.

The Hero of the Gale was still dazed.

Bemore stood up to open the door.

The visitor —

Was the Sword Saint, Cresia.

“I’d like to have a few words with the Hero of the Gale.”

“Please, come in.”

Bemore stepped aside.

She then left the room.

She knew —

She wasn’t the person who could untie the knot in the Hero of the Gale’s heart.

This kind of thing required someone of the “same kind.”

As for her, she only needed to focus on one thing —

How to blow Samimi away tomorrow.

She went to the storage room next door.

She found a dark corner and sat down.

She continued her meditation.

Space distorted.

Mana was absorbed frantically.

—

Inside the room.

Cresia sat opposite the Hero of the Gale.

She looked at the girl who seemed like burnt-out embers.

“When I was young, I was just like you.”

“I believed speed was everything.”

“As long as one was fast enough, one would be invincible.”

Her tone was calm, as if she were reciting a mantra.

But the Hero of the Gale listened.

“You have too little experience in fighting people.”

“People are not Magic Beasts.”

“People scheme; they use tactics.”

“They won’t clash with you head-on.”

“Today’s battle was proof of that.”

“Everyone knew you were stronger, yet you still lost.”

“Am I… stronger than her?” the Hero of the Gale asked in a trembling voice.

“There is no need to doubt your strength,” Cresia answered firmly.

“Ugh…”

Tears fell from the Hero of the Gale’s eyes.

At this moment —

She truly crossed that hurdle.

“Losing feels terrible, doesn’t it?”

“But you already know the reason.”

“You can correct it.”

“You care too much about dignity.”

“Sometimes —”

“A person can’t be too concerned about saving face.”

“You can learn from your companion.”

“She has already traveled much further.”

Having said her piece, Cresia stood up and left.

She came and went like the wind.

Her final words drifted in the air —

“Take back what you’ve lost with your sword.”

—

The Hero of the Gale froze.

What was it that she had lost?

Dignity?

Victory?

Face?

Her sword?

It was none of those.

What she had lost —

Was Samimi.

‘I’m going to take her back…’

‘I’m going to make her cry while she gives me the Amplification…’

‘And stay with me for a lifetime…’

At this moment —

The ashes reignited.

Her Sword Intent condensed at her fingertips.

It felt almost tangible.

“So you were here all along…” she murmured.

Some people thought —

That her sword had been shattered.

But they didn’t know —

That a seal had been undone.

A storm was waking up.