Chapter 222

“Not——hing——at——all——!”

She saw her royal sister twirl playfully in the wind like a performer, smiling brightly. She looked truly happy.

Hmm… thank you for the recognition, Royal Sister?

No matter how strong the wind blew, she would still try her hardest to hear her words. Saying she didn’t hear them? That was definitely a lie~

She had originally hoped that by saying she didn’t hear, her royal sister would praise her once more… What a pity, hehe. Next time, she’d just pretend she didn’t hear again!

Being able to fight side by side with her royal sister—that was Belith’s true honor.

Like a graceful dance in the air, the five wings and six wings soared through the gentle morning light, gliding over the layers of snow-covered mountains.

The target peak appeared in view, prompting a descent in their flight path.

Before even landing fully, Belith reached out and brushed the snow from the back of Sheffy’s head—completely taking on the role of a thoughtful wife and good little sister.

“Pfft… Royal Sister, you’re practically a snowman now.”

“Don’t laugh, you’re not much better yourself.”

“Then will Royal Sister brush me off too?”

“Don’t try to trick me. You’re clever, but I’m not stupid.”

“Aww, too bad~”

Because Sheffy was flying in front, if she wanted to brush the snow off Belith’s head, she’d have to maneuver a wing to do it.

And if she did extend her wing, that Belith… would definitely grab it without hesitation—and there’d be no escaping.

Belith had been fascinated by Sheffy’s wings since childhood.

She loved her royal sister’s wings. When they bathed together, slept together, or even ate meals together, little Belith would always beg her royal sister to spread her wings and wrap her up. She believed hiding within her royal sister’s wings made her feel safe.

If she was just seeking a sense of security, that would’ve been fine! The problem was—whenever she got her hands on Sheffy’s wings, she wouldn’t just touch them—she’d bite them, and even lick them!

At first, Sheffy hadn’t thought much of it. Kids just liked fluffy things, after all. Let her be, she figured—losing a few feathers wasn’t a big deal.

But over time, the sensation of Belith touching her wings had grown increasingly strange. Though Sheffy’s initial indulgence for her little sister had helped her bear it, there was one time in the bath when she nearly fainted. After that, she no longer dared to indulge any of Belith’s unreasonable requests.

She had every reason to suspect that all the issues with her wings had been caused by Belith!

But best not to dwell on those painful, yet oddly delightful memories.

The heels of her black leather boots crunched into the snow, stirring up wisps of frost as Sheffy landed with Belith atop the mountain.

They were now two li away from the battlefield in the distance.

Once they had arrived, the Visual Magic in Sheffy’s eyes—used for long-range observation—gradually faded.

“Huff… this should be the place, right?”

“For the enemy commander to be hiding in such an obvious spot—he’s got some nerve.”

“Doesn’t matter. The guy’s planning to go down with the ship anyway. He’s the one most desperate to surrender to the higher races up north.”

“I’ll go fish him out.”

“Mhm—yes, go ahead, and once you do… hmm?”

—Pa.

The sound of clapping.

One clap after another echoed from behind a tall cliff to the west.

“Well, looks like there’s no need to look anymore.” Sheffy joked with a smile. “Seems like he’s not scared of us at all—not even trying to hide.”

The two sisters caught movement in the corner of their eyes and turned toward the side of the rock wall.

From behind it emerged a black-haired five-winged man, clapping with a bright smile. He wore a noble’s longsword at his waist, draped in a cloak of military merit over a thick robe and light armor. Upon his arm gleamed the solid gold insignia of the Third Legion Commander.

Murof Yarin—the leader of this rebellion, and the current commander of the Third Legion.

Despite the presence of both royal princesses, he neither knelt in accordance with protocol nor even spared them a proper glance.

He simply lowered his clapping hands and dragged someone out from behind the stone wall.

The brown-haired, scar-faced man was yanked out by the collar and flung aside, landing limp in the snow. Upon seeing Sheffy’s face—like that of a wrathful god or demon—he began to tremble all over.

“P-Princess Your Highness! Please listen to my expla—!”

“Aiya, aiya, aiya! Princess Sheffy, Princess Belith, what a pleasure to meet you! And as for you, Bryant—didn’t I just tell you? Don’t go yapping in front of the princesses. Makes it seem like our legion’s in deep trouble or something. As for—”

—Shff!

Murof tilted his head, narrowly dodging a dagger suddenly thrown by Belith. It pierced into the rock behind him and shattered stone on impact.

Yet Murof merely rolled his neck, squinting with that same smile still on his face—as if he had only been trying to ease some stiffness in his spine.

“That magic earlier—was it the work of Princess Sheffy? I see. It certainly lives up to the title of ‘Princess of Calamity.’ Remarkably exaggerated. To witness Your Highness’s full might is… frankly overwhelming. If it were the old me, I might have immediately fallen to my knees in awe of Your Highness’s divine power.”

Bryant, who had fallen to the ground, tried to crawl toward Sheffy’s side—he had long since had enough of this lunatic!

But with a simple point of his finger, Murof made Bryant float mid-air before sending him hurtling backward, smashing hard against the stone wall behind. He was momentarily incapacitated.

It was a warning.

A warning to him.

And also to those standing before him.

Murof rubbed his chin, muttering to himself as he looked out at the battlefield in the distance, and at the neatly sliced cross-section of the mountain left by Sheffy’s magic—carefully pondering something.

In the end, he only shook his head.

And finally, let out a sigh.

“But now that I think about it… compared to the world shown to me by ‘that person’… perhaps this one is still far too insignificant.”

52. Discovered?

“Royal Sister, should we cut him down?”

“Ai, listen to you getting all hasty again. Even if we’re going to cut him down, we should at least wait until he finishes his little monologue. What if he accidentally lets slip the mastermind behind the scenes? You always gotta hold onto that sliver of hope—you might just pick up a lucky shortcut.”

“Then how about we cut off his limbs first?”

“Why not just leave him with only a mouth?”

“Great idea.”

“…”

Little sister, you really need to read between the lines and grasp the deeper meaning in my words. How can you take everything so literally?

Truthfully, Murof was a bit annoyed.

He had thought that invoking reverent praise of “that person” would make the two princesses treat him as a grave threat—at the very least show a hint of tension.

—But who would’ve expected them to be whispering jokes?

With that, Murof no longer had the mood to glorify that great existence.

At last, he straightened his posture and faced the stone-topped ridge across from him, where his two former commanding superiors stood.

“Princesses, you’ve come to execute this ‘traitorous minister,’ haven’t you?”

“Belith, you really ought to consider a few more—”

“It wasn’t me, Royal Sister, he’s the one who wouldn’t stop babbling—”

“Princess Your Highness has come to eradicate this traitorous minister, haven’t you?!”

“Ah?!”

What are you yelling for!

Sheffy and Belith were still whispering to each other when they suddenly realized that Murof had started yelling out of nowhere, with an expression full of fury!

Still, he kept that anger quite well in check—his expression didn’t fully unravel. He merely brushed some snow from his ornate sleeve, as though mocking them.

“I always thought Princess Your Highness was the very embodiment of Demon Clan etiquette. But now… it seems even the royal family may not understand manners.”

“That’s hilarious. Why do you think that just because you’ve finished talking, everyone else is supposed to shut up and keep listening? Is that what that thing behind you taught you? If so, it’s got zero class.”

“Even if it’s you… I will not allow such insults toward that supreme being.”

“You won’t allow it? Who do you think you are? Oh? Then why don’t you go ahead and say—since you think the Demon Domain’s manners are lacking, where exactly are your so-called ‘polite’ people from? Some gutter?”

“You…! Hm? Ha, I see now. Princess Sheffy is as cunning and terrifying as ever. You’re trying to provoke me with just a few words—hoping I’ll carelessly reveal that person’s name?”

Oh, not at all.

Sheffy was simply pissed off at being called uncultured, so of course she cursed back without hesitation.

“To speak that name is forbidden… even hearing it would be misfortune for the both of you.” Murof said cryptically as he tilted his head upward, quietly gazing at the sky now bright with dawn light and faint auroras. “Now that I think of it, I am rather curious—leaving aside the two of you as powerful exceptions, even the lowly soldiers of the Second Legion weren’t affected by the 【Mental Magic】? I’m guessing… Princess Sheffy had deployed a triple-layered barrier beforehand? Impressive… I suppose ants do need strong protectors. Such is the unchanging law of—”

—Ssshhhrk.

It was the sound of a large volume of liquid splashing down onto snow. The moment his words ended, the noise rang out sharply.

Murof slightly opened his pitch-black eyes and looked toward his own arm, following the sound.

The once-luxurious sleeve was gone.

The golden insignia marking him as the commander of the Third Legion—gone as well.

More precisely—his entire arm was gone.

The severed limb lay pathetically in the deep snow, and blood was still pouring and dripping from the exposed stump.

For anyone else, this would’ve been a near-fatal wound.

But Murof still wore a smile. He even shook his head, looking more apologetic than angry.

“Aiya… it seems this subordinate said something that upset Princess Sheffy just now? Well, I suppose it’s fair. For them to charge all this way and still match the Third Legion in combat—calling them ‘ants’ might’ve been too much. Ants can’t crawl that far. Pff—haha, hahahahaha! But if the Third Legion are the ants, doesn’t that actually make the comment a lot more accurate? Ugh…! Still, that really does hurt, huh?”

He was utterly arrogant.

And just as his words fell, his other arm met the same fate as the first.

Sheffy slowly lowered the hand that had released the 【Wind Blade】, her purple eyes cold and silent.

“No matter how weak they are, they’re still far better than an empty shell like you, who only carries an empty name.”

“Ah… ah… that’s it! That look! Princess Your Highness, you’re finally angry! Haha! That’s how it should be! Don’t act like none of this matters! Get angrier! Go mad! This is war!”

He paid no mind to the blood from both severed arms, nor to his own injuries.

Murof screamed at Sheffy like a madman—part death-seeker, part religious fanatic.

“You are the Princess of Calamity! The most wicked bringer of disaster! A demon from the depths of hell! Stop pretending to be some innocent little girl, acting all pitiful and wronged! Slaughter suits you best! That’s who you really are—Sheffy Harl!”

“Then as you wish… Haa… I know, Belith. Don’t worry about me.”

That slight squeeze at her fingertips—its gentle pressure, full of winter’s silent concern—reached straight into Sheffy’s heart.

This was the greatest reason she always brought Belith along by her side.

Sheffy had never once boasted that she could face all the world’s storms and frost alone. She knew exactly where her own fragility lay.

And perhaps, that was what made Sheffy truly strong.

Self-awareness was a virtue every rational being should possess.

Seeing Sheffy’s brows knit tightly at first, then slowly ease, Murof clicked his tongue and sneered in disdain.

A moment later, the two severed arms lying on the ground dissolved into a mass of chaotic black mist.

At the same time, the same chaotic mist surged from Murof’s shoulder stumps. Like a regenerating slime, new arms twisted into form at an alarming speed—two freshly grown limbs with defined muscle lines reattached exactly where the severed ones had been. Even his clothing was restored. It looked less like recovery and more like a reversal of his very state of being.

He slowly lowered his head and picked up the pure gold insignia of the Third Legion from the snow.

He gave it a quick glance—then casually tossed it into the endless abyss below.

“I no longer need this,” Murof said, his cold tone laced with clear disappointment.

Sheffy made a grasping motion through thin air—and the insignia, which had just been thrown off the cliff, reappeared in her hand.

She wiped the dust off its surface with her sleeve, polishing it until it shone, and stored it securely within her Storage Magic.

“It’s not that it’s unnecessary. You’re simply unworthy of it.”

“Hm, Princess Sheffy…”

“Seems you’re preaching more and more of these noble ideals now. But… this compassion for the weak—it really makes me feel sick, you know? I seem to recall that the Princess Your Highness from before wasn’t this long-winded. So what changed you, hmm…?”

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