The knights tacitly dispersed, closing in on Trinis Verlendel’s position, leaving the battlefield’s center to Ailaira Green and the Knight Captain.
A suffocating silence brewed to the extreme between the two, until it was suddenly shattered by a faint, barely audible sneer from Ailaira igniting the tension completely.
There’s nothing more convincing than the blade in one’s hand.
The Knight Captain’s longsword was sheathed in a green glow as she stamped forcefully on the ground.
With a deep boom, her figure vanished in an instant.
The very next blink, she reappeared abruptly behind Ailaira, her sword slicing down toward Ailaira’s arm as if to carve the full moon from the sky.
Yet faced with this cutting edge, Ailaira neither dodged nor retreated—or rather, she truly couldn’t keep up with the Knight Captain’s speed.
Only when the blade finally struck her arm did Ailaira manage to fix her gaze behind herself.
But what did it matter if she couldn’t react?
This blow, imbued with both [Cutting] and [Haste], could pierce iron walls and in just a moment broke through the twenty layers of defense Ailaira had reinforced upon herself, nothing more.
“Damn turtle shell!”
The Knight Captain cursed, attempting to pull her sword free and launch another attack.
But how could Ailaira let such a rare opportunity slip by?
Shattering the Defensive Ritual triggered the stacked effects of twenty layers of Trap Magic, causing the longsword to slow as though mired in a bog, transmitting that sluggishness to the Knight Captain herself.
Though this still couldn’t completely stop the Knight Captain from escaping, and the next moment, she swept away the negative state with sheer force of magic.
Still, in that fleeting pause—like a single frame elongated within a smooth animation—Ailaira seized it with precision.
The witch, ever fond of overwhelming with numbers, let her cool silver eyes lock onto the Knight Captain’s moving figure.
As she inhaled for her next breath, over thirty Ritual Magic incantations were completed in an instant, encircling the Knight Captain at the center.
At the same time, every step from Sacrifice to Activation was finished as if the lengthy process of Ritual Magic had been wiped away, achieving the final result directly.
The brilliance of magic leaking from the Magic Circles illuminated the iron-blue face beneath the Knight Captain’s helmet.
She didn’t have time to finish her curse; her body was swallowed by a deluge of spells of every element.
Almost every beam of magical light carried the might of a fourth-tier spell, and not just offensive ones—there were Blinding, Mental Shock, Speed Reduction debuffs as well.
But the fourth tier wasn’t Ailaira’s limit.
No matter how fast she could construct rituals, greater power always required more time.
To seize this brief opening, she could only lead with fourth-tier rituals—for now—
“After this, things won’t be so troublesome.”
Ailaira’s posture finally shifted; she set down her crossed legs and lifted her arms.
Hundreds of Magic Circles converged behind her.
As her arms fell, a torrent of magic erupted like a curtain blotting out the sky!
Scenes that normally only appeared when an entire Mage corps cast together, Ailaira tossed out like a child flinging fireworks, hurling every blast directly at the Knight Captain.
“No matter how many times I watch, Miss Ailaira’s Ritual Magic is always so astonishing.”
“That strength is part of her charm, too,” Trinis Verlendel looked up at Ailaira’s figure with longing in her eyes.
Her silver hair swayed in the night sky like a dazzling river of stars, making it impossible for Trinis to tear her gaze away for even a second.
Andrea’s initial shock slowly gave way to numbness.
Never before had she so vividly realized the gulf between herself and Ailaira.
Cold sweat beaded on Andrea’s brow.
If, back then, she’d been a bit more forceful when trying to kidnap Ailaira, wouldn’t these hundreds of spells be raining down on her instead?
Given the massive form of her Dragon Form, she would’ve had to take every blow without missing a single one…
Andrea clenched her fists, feeling the strength within her body that had grown.
She silently reminded herself not to give up—she still had plenty of room to improve.
It was just that her plan to defeat Ailaira would need to be postponed.
“It’s fine. My future is still bright,” she muttered to herself.
As Andrea tried to reassure herself, the remaining knights formed a perimeter, closing in from all sides.
Andrea placed herself protectively in front of Trinis and bared her teeth at the knights: “Your boss is about to get beaten to death, and you’re not going to help?”
The stoic knights kept up their encirclement, leaving Trinis no chance to escape.
But after Andrea’s taunt, one of the knights glanced up at the nearly finished battle overhead and spoke in a flat tone: “Even if we all went at her, the outcome wouldn’t change. Besides, the Captain doesn’t like having her duels interfered with.”
Trinis chuckled softly and added, “That’s right. These brave knights once obeyed my father’s command and set out en masse to subdue Miss Ailaira—only to be utterly defeated. I suppose the Captain still resents that loss and wants to avenge that beating now.”
The knight’s voice finally took on a hint of emotion—helplessness toward this love-struck Princess: “Princess, we’re still your Knight Guard. Please, at least let us keep a shred of dignity.”
Trinis only smiled, eyes still turned skyward.
The knights simply waited at her side for this destined duel’s conclusion—or, rather, for negotiations to begin once the Captain had vented her frustrations.
Everyone present, Andrea aside, clearly understood one thing: as long as Ailaira Green stood at the Princess’s side and was unwilling, they could never take the Princess away.
Ailaira’s bombardment lasted for three whole minutes before it gradually died down.
When all the light of magic finally faded, a battered figure tumbled from mid-air and was caught by waiting knights below.
Andrea watched as the Knight Captain, cradled by her subordinates, emerged from her shattered armor.
Her once-perfect suit was in tatters, exposing her handsome face.
Her short hair and furrowed brow emphasized the aura of heroism; the strict and serious air about her made her look all the more severe.
She glared at Ailaira, who drifted gently to the ground, and forced out a hoarse word: “Monster…”
Ailaira brushed nonexistent dust from her shoulder and leaned back on the still-intact railing, twisting her hair indifferently.
“You’ve improved—you lasted a whole minute longer this time.”
“Well then, as you said, this body is meaningless to you now, isn’t it? Why not lend it to me for a while? I’m quite interested in this [Haste] trait.”
The Knight Captain tried to get up, but a broken bone made her groan—like a child robbed of a cherished toy, she muttered unwillingly, “It’s my own incompetence. I failed to retrieve the Princess from the sinner’s hands. I’ll report to the King for punishment. But before that, I swear I’ll punch you at least once!”
Ailaira looked baffled.
“You came for Trinis. Did I ever say I was going to stop you? Why are you always chasing after me?”