Gotcha.
Trimaut calmly aimed beyond the gas fog. He couldn’t see, but he was certain.
This is it.
The Empire had suppressed pure engineering to maintain the privileges of the wizards, but it was different in the Demon Realm.
To overcome the tragedy of the Demon Realm being unable to use the gems mined from their own mines due to the Empire’s restrictions, they focused on pure engineering instead of gem engineering.
To be able to kill the Craft Family, who had seduced the Great Demon and brought the once-impenetrable Demon Realm to its knees, what a feat!
Even though the moderates didn’t cooperate and instead brought outdated flintlock guns instead of new shotguns, it was no big deal. Even outdated weapons could slaughter knights if used by semi-knights.
If they cut off the Craft lineage here, he’d have stories to tell the next Demon King reborn somewhere according to the prophecies. The hardliners would be able to gain the support of the future Demon King, pushing aside the moderates.
But what was worrisome was that Craft, hidden in the gas fog, might escape from this place.
“Don’t hide like a coward! Aren’t you ashamed to become the head of the Craft family with such a mentality?!”
Trimaut peered through the purple fog, aiming his gun carefully. The fog, barely visible an inch ahead, was eerily silent.
Was it a mistake to reveal Craft’s position by pushing away the fog with shotgun fire?
When Craft, who had approached silently without a sound, suddenly went quiet, a sense of alarm gripped him. He fired before it was too late, but was it the wrong call?
Even if Craft toyed with people through sinister schemes, they must have never seen a firearm reflecting advanced pure engineering, showing off its power so strongly.
“Have you run away? You coward! You Craft bastards always do this! Whenever the situation gets tough, you abandon even the oaths to the gods and just run away!”
Trimaut found it hard to contain his anger as he searched through the gas fog.
The moment Craft was briefly visible due to the gunfire, the sight was shocking for a demon. Not even a grand mage, yet casually flying on a broom? Wasn’t that how the deceased Demon King used to fly?
It was obvious how it was possible. Craft was the vanguard of the Demon Realm’s invasion. They must have somehow stolen the Demon King’s magic through all sorts of schemes.
Until now, there had been room for controversy, keeping it hidden away somewhere in a warehouse, but with the Craft family on the verge of collapse, they must have finally brought it out.
“How far are you going to humiliate us?!”
As Trimaut was engulfed in rage, he suddenly heard a faint sound of footsteps. A light, girl-like sound. Someone was stealthily approaching.
Was she not running away?
His experience honed as a semi-knight suppressed his excitement, allowing him to respond. His body moved, and he aimed his gun towards the noise.
For a moment, a figure flickered in the gas fog.
Gotcha.
Trimaut pulled the trigger.
A deafening boom erupted. Flames surged as a barrage swept across the area. The purple gas rushed out like a storm, revealing the results.
Countless bullet holes riddled an autumn coat, flapping in the air without a master.
Trimaut’s eyes widened.
In an instant, a gem knife shot through the coat. The knife unlatched Trimaut’s gas mask. A terrible smell of gas seeped in.
Cough.
Trimaut hurriedly held his breath. Meanwhile, he discarded the gun he had fired and kicked up the loaded one by his feet.
Where is she? Where is she?
The muzzle swung wildly around.
The gas fog remained eerily calm.
Maintaining vigilance, he shouted to his nearby subordinate.
“Throw me a spare mask!”
A voice emerged from the obscured subordinate in the gas, and then there was a chilling sound of flesh tearing, followed by a scream. The sound of a body collapsing echoed extra loudly.
Trimaut felt a chill down his spine and pressed against the gap in his broken mask with one hand.
“Don’t think you can kill me with gas!”
He waved his hand near his face. The force of a semi-knight created wind, dispersing much of the gas and allowing breathable air to return.
“I never thought that.”
A distant, slurred voice called from behind.
Trimaut spun around in haste.
Pink hair danced in the air. The gun barrel was aimed, and the girl’s palm struck the barrel upward. A shockwave erupted. The girl’s strength tore Trimaut’s grip apart, sending the gun soaring into the sky.
“Gah!”
The girl’s sword attack followed.
Trimaut unsheathed his one-handed sword and parried it. His position, momentum, and timing were all off.
But the opponent was still a genius who hadn’t reached mastery. In the difference of realms, small conditions didn’t matter. A semi-knight’s swordsmanship could cleave through steel.
I will slice you in two.
The blades clashed, sparks flew, and noise erupted.
Trimaut felt intense resistance. His eyes widened.
Why isn’t it cutting?!
A thought crossed his mind.
The Craft family possessed an unbreakable demon sword.
A demon sword sealed away by the Great Demon.
His gaze fell upon the girl’s sword.
This traitorous Great Demon!
After being betrayed by Craft twice, yet again…!
The girl pressed her blade forward. The crossguard locked, producing a roaring sound. The shockwave pushed the purple gas back.
Trimaut braced his muscles, resisting. The cult’s gem awakening agent had created inhuman strength. A frail girl was no match. His arm muscles bulged, veins pulsing vividly.
“This silly sword!”
Trimaut shouted but felt a powerful force pressing down. The girl’s strength broke his stance, forcing one knee to fall.
What the…?
Seizing the emotional gap, the girl slid the locked crossguard to the side. The standoff fractured unexpectedly. The sword Trimaut had been pushing against couldn’t withstand his own strength and swung into the air.
Trimaut sensed death.
His gaze fell upon the girl, who was about to unleash her strike.
But she wore a dazed smile and let go of the demon sword instead. In slow motion, the sword fell helplessly.
What?!
Trimaut quickly seized the moment, recovering his collapsed stance. The sword attack made in the transition targeted the unguarded girl.
The girl’s hand reached skyward. The dropped gun found its way into her hand. As it spun, the muzzle turned toward him.
With eyes gleaming with ecstatic delight, the girl spoke.
“Bang~♥”
Seeing her jubilant expression, Trimaut was infuriated.
Craft!
You think…!
The trigger was pulled.
A deafening roar resounded as the barrage shredded flesh.
#
Pastel lay sprawled outside like laundry tossed carelessly.
Medical staff hurriedly moved around, treating students poisoned by gas.
“Ugh, ugh.”
What a mess to clean up.
A strong sense of lethargy washed over her. Each breath felt like an empty void.
Hormone Friend, you enjoyed it too much.
Ugh.
A voice came from the adjacent bed.
“I can recover on my own, just give me some painkillers and go. Oh, since I’m a student, I should be using honorifics, right? I’ll keep that in mind for next time since I’m tired today.”
Duke’s daughter Elshire was casually speaking to the professor, who was too flabbergasted to reprimand her.
After finishing some irreverent conversation, Elshire approached with slightly wobbly steps.
Ugh.
Pastel struggled to turn her body. She shifted awkwardly into a lying position.
A silver-haired girl peered down at her.
“Hello, Elshire. How’s your condition?”
“Not bad.”
“You just inhaled toxic gas till recently, though?”
“I’m a semi-knight.”
Breathing fresh air should make it better, right?
Heh.
Elshire hesitated. Glancing around at the frantic medical activities, she collected her thoughts before speaking.
“My suggestion is to give me some time to think.”
Ugh.
What suggestion?
Pastel’s mind wandered.
Now that she mentioned it, Trimaut had accused her, saying she was trying to manipulate Elshire in the competition for the Duke of Bellamont heir.
He claimed she was threatening Elshire to obtain that other form of hers if she didn’t get the Craft support.
Ugh.
“That’s an exaggeration!”
She sat up suddenly.
She waved her arms vigorously.
“That’s an exaggeration! A misunderstanding! Good-hearted Pastel wouldn’t threat her friend with such a proposal!”
Pastel shouted.
“I’m not even that two-faced! I’m exactly what I seem! Just as I seem!”
I simply just…
“I’m just a pastel who loves money and power!”
A mumble came from the adjacent bed.
“Regardless, do you love money and power?”
It was Melissa, resting comfortably in her laid-back position.
Pastel wanted to argue against Melissa’s tone, but she had no choice as it was true.
Ugh.
Good-hearted Pastel… can’t lie!
Why do people see this good-hearted Pastel in such a bad light?
It’s all because of the allegations thrown around by that Trimaut!
Even though Hormone Friend tried to right the wrongs, once a word’s out, you can’t take it back!
Aaaaah!
Pastel grabbed her head, her pink hair tangling among her fingers.
Seeing that, Elshire flinched. Like a debtor facing a loan shark, she shrank back, avoiding eye contact.
“I won’t take long to think. I need time to decide too…”
What a terrible feeling all around!
Pastel trembled her hands.
This won’t do!
“No need to think!”
She sweetly grasped Elshire’s hand.
“I understand everything about your circumstances!”
Having to face death threats from your siblings just for a position as head of the family.
“If you need my support, just say it anytime!”
Pastel smiled brightly.
“I’ll help you with anything as a friend!”
Anyone who heard it would realize how much Pastel cherished her friends.
“Support…?”
Elshire looked blankly at Pastel’s bright smile.
“I see. My worries weren’t necessary.”
“Yep, yep!”
Just trust me!
“…I’ll accept the support.”
Elshire, having responded, curled up in the corner.
Tadaaan.
Popular Pastel made new friends (subordinates) again today!
Oh yeah.
Melissa watched in horror.
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