Chapter 303: She Is My Executor (Patreon)

The silky golden hair she had always combed so carefully now had plenty of split ends and stray tufts.

Her black maid shoes, caked in mud, had lost their earlier shine. The maid uniform was in tatters, torn strips of cloth dangling and swaying with every movement.

Alice felt the sting of the thin cut on her cheek, then looked down at her hand, trembling around the hilt of her sword.

She had never been this battered, not since she'd taken on the Red Mirror Dragon alone and slain it.

That was the legendary swordsmanship of the Hero. Even as a crude imitation, she could feel the plainness and power in it. Meeting it head-on was no easy task.

As Kinton's strongest maid executive, she could never let such a dangerous presence trample on the rights of her domain. As heir to Kinton's King of Mercenaries, she refused to admit defeat. She wanted to challenge it, to break through. The fight wasn't over! Not even if it cost her life.

"Hohoho, you fight like a true magic swordsman. With strength like that, it's a shame to waste it in a tiny territory like Kinton. Honestly, I think you could win yourself a fine position in the Empire. And I have the power to give you that chance."

The impostor Alice shook its head. The sight before it stirred a faint pang of regret. This golden rabbit had the potential to become something interesting.

"Don't look down on me!"

Alice, always so calm, cried out loud. She had to let the blaze burning in her chest pour out.

Betrayal? Impossible. This was the homeland that had borne her. Her beginnings hadn't been kind, but along the way she had met many good-hearted benefactors. She would never break the oath she had sworn.

The keen edge coiled around her sword swelled in that instant. Silver-white light rose along the blade, and a few dazzling points of starlight flickered and leapt.

She now had a rough grasp of the impostor's abilities. Judging by the fact that it could only use three kinds of magic at a time, all she had to do was keep forcing it to give up its shapeshifting and its barrier magic, and victory would be hers. Its true appearance. Its link to the outside world.

"What a pity. In my eyes, you're just a beautiful, fragile thing."

The impostor raised its sword. As it moved, its body split into layer upon layer of overlapping afterimages. They looked slow, but in truth they were too fast to touch.

In the blink of an eye the afterimages surrounded Alice, then just as quickly reached her back.

Clang!

Her sword, charged with its keen edge, met the fake "Sword of the Hero." A violent shockwave burst from the point of impact, and the flowers and petals that had been trampled into the mud flew up into the air all at once!

"You actually kept up."

The impostor stared into those sky-blue eyes, now threaded with blood, like a cornered rabbit. Yet she looked utterly earnest and focused.

"Haaah!"

At the slightest opening, a fraction of a second, the golden-haired girl lifted her sword with the smallest possible motion and brought it down.

Clang! Clang! Clang!…

Again and again, the fierce edge burst into white sparks that grazed the impostor's ear and sliced off several strands of golden hair!

The situation reversed in an instant.

Now the impostor felt as though it were sinking into a quagmire. It was fighting with the Hero's swordsmanship, yet it couldn't find a single move that would free it from this position. If it forced its way out, both sides would be wounded.

"Can't be helped. Then I'll gamble too, shall I?"

With a ripping "shhk," Alice's blade bit into the impostor's shoulder. She meant to keep cutting down along the bone.

But in seizing the opening, she had overlooked what it would cost her. By the time she realized it, it was already too late to pull back.

The tip of the fake "Sword of the Hero" tore clean through the maid uniform and sank into flesh, leaving a slanting wound across Alice's abdomen. Agony surged like a flood through her spine and into her brain.

If she hadn't shifted back half a step beforehand, she would probably have been gutted by now. Being cut in two wouldn't have been out of the question.

Alice's face went pale in an instant. She let go of her sword and leapt hard backward, leaving the blade still lodged in the impostor's shoulder.

The moment she landed, she staggered uncontrollably and nearly pitched onto the ground.

The black-and-white hem of her skirt was quickly soaked red. The wound was a ragged mess of torn skin and flesh. She tried to press her stomach to stop the bleeding, but the wound was too large, and it was all in vain.

Alice parted her lips. Blood surged back up her throat with a coppery taste and seeped from the corner of her mouth.

The situation had taken a sudden turn for the worse.

She was going to die.

And even so, she hadn't managed to force it to switch spells.

For the first time, Alice felt this displeased with herself.

So this thing was of the Demon Race. Thinking about it, though, only the Demon Race could pull off such bizarre tricks.

"This is why I said you were fragile."

The impostor shook its head and didn't press the attack. To it, the outcome had already been decided.

"Ow, that really hurts. How long has it been since I last got hurt?"

It reached up, pulled out the sword still half-buried in its shoulder, and tossed it carelessly at Alice's feet.

There was no blood from its wound, only specks of light formed from Mana slowly drifting away. It bared its teeth in a grimace of pain, pushed the shoulder back into place, and the wound seemed to close bit by bit.

By now Alice didn't even have the strength to bend down and pick up her sword. She could feel clearly that with any more strenuous movement, her intestines might really spill out.

"I won't… I won't… let you get away with this…"

Gravely wounded, Alice gasped for breath and tried to pick up the sword on the ground.

She could still fight!

As her body hunched over, her trembling fingers inched toward the hilt, thick red blood dripping slowly from her fingertips.

But what she touched wasn't the hilt. It was a slightly cold palm.

Alice's vision had already blurred. She only felt someone grip her hand and help hold her upright.

A familiar voice sounded beside her ear.

"Humans. Such fragile things. Honestly, who dies the moment you look away for a second?"

Aura held Alice up with one hand and picked the sword off the ground with the other.

"You broke my barrier?"

The impostor Alice was taken aback. Having just recovered from its wound, it had meant to watch this golden rabbit die slowly with its own eyes.

"I'm not so foolish as to miss changes in my own territory. This barrier is very much like the one Böse made a hundred years ago. And the appearance you've taken on… who are you?"

"Guess."

Faced with Aura's questioning, the impostor Demon only stuck out its tongue.

"Well, who you are doesn't matter. All I want to tell you right now is this: she is my important executive. Prepare to have your head cut off."

Aura's Mana erupted in that instant. She slowly raised the blood-stained sword in her hand and leveled it at the impostor, her expression cold and murderous.