The vast central park of Agreas was no longer a place of rest. The lush greenery had been utterly transformed—reshaped by the violent intersection of two master swordsmen.

“Hah-hah!”

“Ngh!”

Old man Maurice and Valse traded blows with feral intensity, grins etched onto their faces as steel shrieked against steel. Though their true duel had only just begun, the landscape was already a graveyard of splintered timber and leveled groves.

The earth groaned and cracked beneath their feet. With every swing, the pressure of their blades sent fallen leaves spiraling into a chaotic dance.

“Let’s see you handle this!” Maurice barked.

He shifted his grip, flipping his left-hand blade into a reverse hold. He dropped his center of gravity, twisting his torso in a heavy, deliberate wind-up. In a realm where combat was measured in god-speed, such a wide, telegraphing motion should have been a fatal opening.

But Valse’s instincts screamed. He sensed the impending storm and leaped back.

A heartbeat later—

A towering black cyclone erupted from Maurice, devouring everything in its path.

“Black Blade: Great Dragon Gale. If this touches you, it’s over. You’ll be erased from this world before you can even scream.”

The destruction was absolute. Anything caught in the cyclone’s wake wasn’t just cut; it was systematically dismantled. Objects were sliced in half, then quarters, then eighths, until they were reduced to nothing but microscopic dust. Trees and fountains near Maurice vanished without a trace, as if they had never existed.

Valse watched the devastation with a wry smile and raised his hand.

“Heh… Every time we cross blades, I truly feel it. The history that earned you the title of Sword Saint, the sheer will dwelling in your steel. You really are an outlier in every sense of the word. However—”

Valse deployed a series of complex, overlapping magic circles. Their geometry was alien—a shifting, crystalline pattern I had never seen before.

As he focused his intent, the circles flared with a blinding radiance, manifesting several black tornadoes of his own. The rival storms collided, gnashing and howling as they intertwined. The more they clashed, the more they neutralized one another, shrinking until both vanished into a gentle breeze.

Valse raised a finger, lecturing calmly. “No matter how great the power, if you meet it with a force of equal magnitude and opposite polarity, it will wither. Even the strikes of a Sword Saint are subject to the laws of logic.”

Maurice let out a low whistle of genuine admiration. “Not bad, kid. Not bad at all.”

As the two stood there, trading respectful smirks, Lisha stepped up beside me. Sally and Fina were perched on her shoulders, their tiny expressions solemn.

“Well, if Maurice is giving it his all, I suppose it’s time I joined the fray as well,” Lisha said.

Her gaze was locked onto Razul. She drew a second Magitech Pistol from her holster, holding both with practiced ease.

“Razul, was it? You manipulate gravity—attraction and repulsion. High offense, impenetrable defense… and you managed to overpower Issei in a melee. You’re a monster on the battlefield.”

Razul let out a rough laugh at Lisha’s quiet assessment. “High praise coming from the Red-Eyed Sniper. But tell me, lady… aren’t you and I a terrible match?”

He wasn’t wrong. Lisha was a master of the long game. While she could hold her own in a scrap, her true strength lay in back-row support and precision fire. Razul, meanwhile, was a close-quarters juggernaut who could drag enemies into his reach or blow them away with a thought.

Despite the disadvantage, Lisha took a defiant step forward.

“Perhaps. On paper, our compatibility is poor. But there are ways to bridge that gap.”

We had already shared everything we knew about the enemy’s abilities. Lisha knew exactly what Razul was capable of because I had lived through it.

Intrigued, Razul stepped toward her. “Is that so? Then by all means, show me how you plan to bridge it!”

He thrust his hand forward, activating his signature pull. The air rippled as the gravitational vacuum targeted Lisha, lifting her off her feet and dragging her helplessly toward him.

My heart hammered. Lisha didn’t have the physical durability to survive one of his direct hits. I moved to intercept, but—

Lisha didn’t panic. She didn’t even flinch. Floating in mid-air, she simply extended her arms, leveling her sights at Razul’s face.

“—Ice Bullet.”

The triggers clicked. The muzzles flashed.

“Gah!?”

Razul let out a sharp cry of pain. He recoiled, his concentration breaking as the gravitational pull snapped.

When the dust settled, blood was streaming from his right eye. But that wasn’t all—his right shoulder was beginning to bloom with a dark, crimson stain.

Razul clutched his face, a jagged laugh escaping his throat. “I see… This is going to be more annoying than I thought.”

“I imagine so,” Lisha replied coolly. “Your ‘Attraction’ is a double-edged sword. The moment you pull me toward you, you’re also accelerating my bullets. And while your body is tough enough to withstand Issei’s blows, I highly doubt your eyeballs share that same resilience.”

“Heh… Fair point. But what about my shoulder? I’ve tanked the Hero’s holy cannons with this body. How did you pierce it?”

He was right. Razul’s flesh was like reinforced armor. Even my boosted attacks had struggled to leave a scratch. How had Lisha bypassed it in a single heartbeat?

Lisha glanced at his wounded shoulder. “Issei’s cannons have terrifying destructive power, but they are blunt instruments. When it comes to pure penetration, I am superior. Furthermore… even the hardest material will eventually give way if you hit the exact same molecular point dozens of times. In the time it took to reach you, I fired twenty rounds into that single spot. That was all it took to break your defense.”

The revelation left everyone stunned.

“You fired that many rounds in a split second!?” Razul shouted. “Damn! First the Sword Saint, now you… you people are insane!”

Rias and the others were speechless.

The One-Hole Shot. It was a legendary marksman technique—using the first bullet’s entry point as the target for every subsequent shot. In the world of Ast-Arde, Lisha was the only one capable of performing it at such high speeds with dual pistols.

And she wasn’t even done. She still had her Promotion. I couldn’t even fathom her power once she became the “Queen.”

Razul, realizing he had underestimated her, began to tremble. Then, he threw his head back and roared with laughter.

“Hahaha! I deserved that! I really did! I was an idiot to think I could take you lightly!”

——————————-

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