A golden fist swept through the air, and all fell into silence.
The devouring “Dark Doom” was fragile as thin paper before pure power, instantly torn apart and evaporated.
The gloom that had hung in the sky was scattered, and light poured through a breach in the clouds, illuminating the devastated battlefield.
Weiss still sat where he had been, dust settling around him, feeling somewhat dazed.
Is it over?
That cataclysm that just destroyed the world—just gone like that?
He instinctively looked up toward the suddenly brightened sky, momentarily unable to tell if it was real or an illusion.
If only this world were like a game, with a health bar hanging over the boss’s head, or a prompt flashing after a successful hunt.
Having just fought the perfect form of that “Dark Shape,” he could better understand the overwhelming despair it embodied.
The Soul-Eating True Lord had unified the souls of all fallen knights, even devouring and fusing with Nosern.
Weiss was utterly unable to stand against it; if the opponent got serious, it would crush him as easily as squashing a bug.
But then it was Lortisa’s turn.
Just like at the very beginning on the hillside, where she had finished off the Soul-Eating True Lord’s initial form.
No matter how many stages it had advanced, no matter how much stronger it had become.
She needed only one punch.
Her posture wasn’t that of someone engaged in a life-or-death struggle.
More like a farm girl doing chores, casually wiping dust off the floor.
Murphyana, standing frozen to the side, looked as if she’d been frozen in place.
As a Holy Crusader Knight, she also possessed the family martial art of magic-enhanced combat.
From a more “insider” perspective than Weiss, the scene before her eyes subverted all understanding even further.
That single punch bore no trace of magic.
She showed no sign of any divine protection or blessing.
It was as if that punch was pure, primal strength—her own body’s power.
Murphyana lowered her gaze to her hands.
The Heinetion-Sho family name was synonymous with countless honors and bravery in service to the kingdom—a lineage she was proud to bear.
Yet now, before the “Golden Lortisa,” that pride felt pale, even a little ridiculous.
The so-called strongest soldier captain of the kingdom—her very existence exceeded all logic.
As for the woman herself—
Lortisa was used to this. Afterward, she casually flicked her hand, as if she had done something insignificant.
Who died? She didn’t care.
Even when told that the monster core she had just shattered was none other than Nosern, the knight captain blessed by the Knights’ Hall and heir of the Higleyvel family, she showed no excess emotion.
For this soldier captain, her world was simple.
Follow orders, enter battle, then end it.
Everything else was left to the adjutants.
But now, things were different.
She suddenly turned around, her clear, cold emerald eyes fixed on Weiss.
“You’re injured. You need treatment.”
Her voice was steady, but carried unusual concern.
Before he could respond, she stepped forward, reaching out to help Weiss up from the ground.
Weiss was almost accustomed to the near-expressionless look on this girl’s face.
At this moment, beneath her aloof exterior, he could feel a faint warmth of genuine care.
He smiled and rolled his shoulder, letting her support him as he stood steadily.
“Just the usual, nothing serious.”
“How can it be nothing?”
Lortisa’s brows knit slightly.
“Blood… the wound keeps bleeding.”
She’d seen plenty—wounds that could sever limbs—that could make even the toughest soldiers wail in pain within the camp.
Weiss, however, seemed completely unconcerned.
Seeing the one he cared most about putting on such a show of toughness would make anyone’s heart ache.
Yet Weiss shook his head, brushing it off, and to prove he was fine, even lightly touched the bleeding edge of the wound with his fingertip.
“There’s magic, right? Healing magic. Easy.”
Whether there was a problem or not, the pain was truly absent.
Once again, he silently thanked the great painkillers.
Among white-grade byproducts, these were absolutely the most frequently used and praised.
Too bad he was running low—he not only used them himself but sometimes had to share them with others in emergencies.
He wished he could pull a few more boxes to replenish his stock.
Weiss’s thoughts drifted away without noticing the subtle change in Lortisa’s expression.
“No. It’s not about how good magic is.”
Her voice dropped.
“Injury means pain.”
“Huh?”
Weiss didn’t immediately grasp her meaning.
He only sensed that her mood seemed to have darkened again.
She had just punched the boss out in one hit, the reckless fool got what was coming to him, yet she showed no sign of happiness.
(Probably because of the aftermath… Yeah, a lot of people died, so the victory was a grim one.)
Weiss thought this but didn’t dwell on it.
Then he heard Lortisa’s cold voice, leaving no room for argument:
“Return. Back to camp for treatment.”
Weiss hurriedly nodded and was about to step forward when Lortisa spread her arms wide, blocking his path.
A stance ready to lift him up.
“No, Tisa, you…”
Immediately, a word that bruised his dignity sprang to his mind.
Lortisa calmly spoke a few words.
“I’m taking you back.”
She said “taking,” but her posture clearly meant “carrying.”
Weiss’s face filled with awkwardness.
Logically, this was undoubtedly the most efficient choice.
She was strong, knew the way back well, and carrying him would definitely be the fastest.
But the problem was…
Couldn’t she just carry him on her back?
Why pick him up in her arms?
And why a princess carry?
Weiss awkwardly waved his hands.
“Well, this kind of carry… uh…”
If he agreed, he felt like something important might shatter.
But Lortisa just looked at him quietly with her emerald eyes, then said one word.
“Come.”
Watching the strange interaction unfold between the two, Murphyana’s eyes grew wider.
The scene before her was even more surprising than when the soldier captain had cleared the field with one punch earlier.
Only now did she realize.
The legendary soldier captain who was said to only know fighting could speak so much.
She could care for another person like a normal human being, not just a living weapon of war.
But as the atmosphere softened somewhat, no one noticed.
A heavy “Dark Breath” quietly gathered again on the other side of the battlefield ruins.
The presence grew thicker until a voice filled with admiration and amusement sounded.
“A careless mistake. So this is the power of the Holy Kingdom’s strongest soldier captain. Allow me to sincerely praise you once again—truly worthy of the title ‘Golden Lortisa.’”
The three looked up toward the voice.
Their gazes fixed on the place where the black mist was gathering once more.
The Dark Shape, which had been thoroughly cleared away, revealed its ominous silhouette again.
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