Chapter 61: Anastasia: Do You Even Know What Timing Means! (Patreon)

Anastasia caught Mimi, set her down on the ground dragon, and climbed up behind her.

Crack!

Anastasia slapped the ground dragon's neck, and it immediately bolted toward the bushes at the roadside, vanishing into the trees.

Meanwhile, the Iron Fang mercenaries drew their swords and charged at Daniel.

"Guess we've got no choice but to fight," one of them muttered.

Daniel stood exactly where he was, watching the blades close in, right up until the orc mercenaries decided their target wasn't much of a threat.

A terrifying force reflected back off him—the blades rebounded with several times their original power, carving deep, bone-baring gashes into their wielders.

"Argh!!"

Five or six mercenaries in the front row crumpled to the ground, blood spraying everywhere, wailing on reflex.

The mercenaries behind them realized something was very wrong. "Wait—don't close in! Use ranged attacks!"

Those with crossbows drew them; those who could cast spells began casting.

Daniel kept ignoring them, watching the whole scene like it was a show for his amusement.

Bullying rookies really was entertaining.

He wasn't in any hurry to chase after Anastasia—a ground dragon couldn't get far.

"Want Betty to go bring those two back for you?" Betty asked, taking the initiative.

She'd wanted to help in the fight, but Daniel had held her back. Since she wasn't allowed to join the battle, chasing down the fugitives would do just as well.

"Sure, I'll leave that to you, Betty."

This great spirit—tsundere with only the tsun long gone—really was considerate. Betty was practically old enough to be Daniel's mother.

"Not a chance!"

Ricardo, overhearing the exchange, immediately moved to intercept the little girl—whether she was a great spirit or a mage, he couldn't tell.

She didn't even spare him a glance before her form vanished through spatial movement.

"Stop looking around. I'm your opponent, aren't I?"

Ricardo's pupils contracted!

In the blink of an eye, Daniel appeared right in front of him and rested a hand lightly on his shoulder.

A deep rumble followed.

The ground beneath Ricardo's feet split open into a hole, and he was driven dozens of meters underground in an instant, motionless.

"Impossible—the captain went down in one hit!"

The mercenaries stared, slack-jawed. Daniel tilted his head—did these people not know how to fight at all? Standing frozen at a time like this was practically suicide.

"Quick, fire the crossbows!"

Seeing Daniel's gaze turn toward them, the orc mercenaries shouted in alarm.

The ones who'd snapped out of their daze loosed their bolts at once.

Dozens of arrows and a few spells struck Daniel—but whether arrow or spell, anything that touched him rebounded several times faster than it had come.

Fzzt, fzzt, fzzt!

Dozens of mercenaries dropped instantly, pierced by their own arrows. The ones who'd cast spells got the worst of it, blasted by their own magic and left lying scorched black on the ground.

"That's about the level I expected from you lot. Might as well call it quits now."

Daniel looked over the remaining orc mercenaries, closed his hand, and a ribbon woven from pure wind formed in his grip, stretching out over a hundred meters.

He smiled at the stunned orcs. "Turn around."

Crack!

The air split with a resounding snap. No matter how many mercenaries stood in the ribbon's path, all of them were sent flying, their armor shattered into fragments.

The orcs coughed blood in midair before crashing into the trees lining the street, snapping the trunks clean through.

After that single strike, nothing remained on the street but groans of pain.

Daniel released his grip, and the wind ribbon dissolved back into a light breeze.

He glanced at the orcs sprawled across the forest floor without bothering to check their injuries—he'd already pulled most of his strength.

He was still short on manpower, so he hadn't gone for the kill. As for their wounds, orcs were tough enough that they'd recover before long.

Daniel tapped the ground lightly, and the soil slowly rose, pushing Ricardo—buried underground—back up to the surface.

The wolf beastman lay unconscious, his eyes rolled back into a Byakugan, though he looked otherwise unharmed. He was, after all, a high-end combatant, and Daniel had knocked him out with just the right amount of force.

That way, by the time they got back to the royal capital, he'd be ready to report straight for duty with the Knights.

"I'm done here. Betty should be about finished too, right?"

Deep in the forest, Anastasia held Mimi tight as the ground dragon crashed recklessly through the brush.

Mimi's small lips trembled, tears falling one after another. Young as she was, she could tell that any enemy who'd make Ricardo willingly stay behind to cover their escape had to be terrifying.

Otherwise, Ricardo would never have left her to protect the young lady and run.

Anastasia felt just as sick about it. Setting personal feelings aside, those mercenaries had been her direct subordinates—treating them as expendable was a heavy loss any way she looked at it.

"I'm sorry, Mimi. It was my idea for Ricardo to stay behind and buy us time."

"It's okay, Sister Anna. It's not your fault. It's all because that bad person had his eye on you."

Mimi wiped away her tears and answered quietly. She had to be strong. She had to protect Anna no matter what.

With the carriage's weight gone, the ground dragon moved fast.

Anastasia drove it forward at a full sprint, meeting no resistance. Just as she began to relax, she spotted the golden-haired, drill-twintailed little girl—the one that man had been holding—standing on the road ahead of them.

"El Fura!"

Boom!

A violent gust of wind pressure burst out in front of Betty and slammed into the ground dragon.

"Mimi won't let you win!"

Mimi drew a deep breath and let out a roar: "Haaah!"

The wind magic collided with the Roaring Wave, and the resulting gale forced the ground dragon to a halt.

But the standoff lasted only a moment before the windstorm broke through the shockwave and slammed straight into the dragon.

The dragon let out a pained cry and was sent tumbling by the blast.

The two riders on its back were flung into the air as well. Mimi tried to grab hold of Anastasia mid-fall, but Betty's distinctive voice rang out again.

"El Shamak!"

Yin magic wove itself into pitch-black cords in the air, binding the two of them tightly together.

Anastasia and Mimi hit the ground hard, letting out pained groans.

"Ugh, damn it, you awful person! Let go of Mimi and Sister Anna!"

Betty hummed, ignoring Mimi's shouting, and sealed her mouth shut with magic to stop the noise.

"Well, look at that—Betty's actually useful."

Just as Betty moved to collect the two of them, her brow suddenly furrowed. She turned toward the depths of the forest and called out.

"There's no point hiding that Witch's stench—come out here for Betty!"

The moment she spoke, from the shadows of the forest emerged a hundred black-robed, hooded figures of the Witch Cult.

"Why would there be so many Witch Cult members near the royal capital?" Anastasia gasped, unable to hold back her shock at the sight of them pouring out of the trees.

"Ah, diligence—what glorious diligence!"

"Just as I thought—waiting here as the Gospel instructed was the right call!!"

"To think I'd get to see a great spirit here—ah! Lady Satella, is this your reward for my diligence?!"

The cultists parted automatically, opening a path that revealed the one speaking—the Archbishop of Sloth. A green-haired, ghost-pale madman, currently gripping fistfuls of his own hair with a fevered, unhinged expression.

Even as his scalp began to tear, his hands didn't stop, and his voice only grew more manic.

That was when Betty got a clear look at the speaker's face. Her pupils shook. "Geuse?!"

"Geuse? Who's Geuse?"

"I am the Witch Cult's Sin Archbishop, in charge of Sloth—Petelgeuse Romanée-Conti, desu!"

"Making up random names for people—how slothful of you!"

Petelgeuse let go of his own scalp, his head lolling in a twisted, unnatural angle as he turned to look at Betty.

Watching the man who no longer even remembered his own name, Betty's expression dimmed. "I see. You're not Teacher Geuse anymore."

Geuse had once been the etiquette tutor Echidna had found for her—a genuinely good man. But now his mind had completely broken.

Everyone she'd once known, Roswaal included, was already dead. If this had happened before, she might have been overcome with grief and helplessness.

But now she had Daniel as her contractor, and Betty quickly steadied herself.

It was all the Witch Cult's fault!

Betty's eyes hardened with resolve.

"Geuse, Betty is going to set you free."

Petelgeuse glared at her, clearly displeased. "How slothful of you! I told you not to call me by that meaningless name!"

"I was going to let you embrace the Witch's love, but now—you can just die instead!"

"Let the proof of my devotion tear you to pieces!"

The Witch Factor stirred to life inside him, and seven or eight pitch-black arms—invisible to ordinary eyes—unfurled from Petelgeuse's body, reaching straight for Betty.