“This imperial knight’s presence means this must be the enemy’s main force, yes? What happened to Ryo?”
“He went to help Kenneth.”
“Kenneth? The baron? I do remember Ryo mentioning something about him being his alchemy teacher. Are there equally powerful imperial knights over there too?”
“Probably, along with the Inferno Magician.”
“Oscar Luska. Certainly a troublesome opponent, but...” Sera tilted her head in thought before nodding decisively. “Ryo won’t lose.”
“What makes you so sure?”
“He’s very serious when he has something to protect. No matter how strong his opponent is, he won’t lose.”
Sera smiled brightly, then faced forward again.
“You there. Are you one of the Emperor’s Twelve Knights?”
“I am. My name is Hartmut Barthel, the third seat of the Twelve. And it is an utter pleasure to make your acquaintance, Sera of the Wind.”
“Hmm. Have we met somewhere before?” she asked. She wouldn’t have forgotten someone this strong, but she had no memory of him.
“No, but I know you. I watched the tournament in the Empire six years ago.”
“Ugh, that one. Don’t remind me. What an absolute disaster.”
“Oh? Even though you put on such a superb show?”
“The Matriarch told me to spread my wings a bit. I’d been cooped up in the forest for too long, so...I did. But my opponents were weak, and to add insult to injury, my sword broke. I suppose my lacking strength was the reason my sword broke, though. Goodness, how my blacksmith scolded me for that.”
Sera chuckled in fond remembrance, then she noticed a woman, likely only having recently come of age, glaring at her...
“My, my, what fierce eyes you have... Is that Raven? I don’t recall any duplicates being made, so I suppose that makes you Her Imperial Highness, Princess Fiona. Are you angry because I called Oscar weak?”
“Yes.”
“I apologize. I’m merely stating the truth, though. Oscar was weak back then. Has he grown stronger since?”
“My master is strong.” There was no doubt or hesitation in Fiona’s words. She wouldn’t forgive anyone who insulted Oscar, no matter who they were, and she wasn’t the least bit intimidated by Sera.
“Is that so? I’d like to fight him again someday.” Sera smiled. “However, right now, you two are my opponents.”
At that moment, the atmosphere changed.
“Abel, feeling up to taking on the princess? If not, don’t fret—I’ll take them both on.”
Sera was utterly relaxed, but anger radiated from the two imperials.
“Stop. Provoking. Them!” Abel groaned.
“Ryo said that eroding your opponent’s composure is the first step in one-on-one combat.”
“Yeah, you two are definitely a match made in heaven,” he replied in exasperation.
“Tee hee.” Sera looked pleased. “I’m glad to see you see it too, Abel.”
But the atmosphere remained tense.
“I’ll fight the princess,” Abel declared.
Sera looked at Hugh, lying unconscious nearby. “Move Master McGlass away. If we accidentally step on him, we may actually kill him.”
After Abel did her bidding, she turned toward the imperials. “Right then, Ser Hartmut, shall we begin?”
And thus commenced the enormous warehouse’s third duel.
Except this time, the second after Hartmut crossed swords with his opponent, he watched as she batted his blade out of his hand.
“Impossible! This can’t be!” Hartmut cried, stunned.
“I knew you were strong, so I didn’t hold back with my Wind Robe.” A faint smile curved Sera’s lips. “I suppose I have to thank my mock battles with Ryo for my improvement.”
“I was well aware of your power, your speed... Yet...” Hartmut couldn’t comprehend his defeat.
“I think you’re overestimating the disparity between us,” Sera said.
“Then explain how this happened!”
“You’re wounded, Ser Hartmut. It’s as simple as that.”
“What?”
“That wound on your right shoulder. It’s affecting you more than you realize.”
“No... No, you’re wrong...”
Hartmut instinctively pressed his hand into his right shoulder. He should have recovered fully after drinking a potion, but apparently, it hadn’t worked yet.
“Yes. You can thank Abel for the assist,” Sera said with a glance at her friend fighting Fiona next to them.
Though Abel was holding his own, Fiona was wearing him down, her strength and speed enhanced by Raven. Past them, Neville Black and his knights were barely holding back Marie’s strike force. The enemy outnumbered them by almost double. Lune’s knights compensated by working together, operating as a single efficient unit, but it was starting to drain their stamina.
“I should intervene, but...” Sera hesitated.
While she had disarmed Hartmut and defeated him, and the imperial knight seemed to have accepted his loss, he would undoubtedly pick up his sword and rejoin the fight if she ran off to fight someone else. Plus, he’d be fighting with an understanding of the severity of his shoulder injury, so he would be prepared. In other words, dangerous.
She was still deciding how to handle him when—
Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh.
—three soft sounds came from outside.
Their imperial opponents reacted the moment they heard them.
“Fire Javelin.”
Every member of the Imperial Magic Division chanted at the same time. Simultaneously, several took fist-sized objects from their pockets and hurled them onto the floor. Smoke hissed out of the objects, and within seconds, others were attending to the eighteen captives lying on the floor.
“Fall back!” Fiona called.
Sera sensed enemies moving behind them, likely retrieving the man in the large chair. Despite her understanding of the situation, she didn’t move to stop them. She knew her comrades had suffered far more damage than anticipated.
As the smoke spread and they realized the enemy had retreated, Lune’s knights dropped to their knees. Neville and Abel hadn’t fared much better. Although they weren’t kneeling, they had to use their swords to remain upright. A reckless pursuit would only open them up to a more vicious counterattack.
Sera had two options: let the enemy rescue the prisoners and prevent further damage to their own forces or prevent the prisoners from being rescued but increase their own casualties. The former was obviously the better choice.