episode_0017

“Seems you’ve underestimated me. Well, I suppose it can’t be helped—I haven’t shown my face on the battlefield in decades.”

Naiad flexed her fingers, signaling that she would no longer hold back. But the truth was, Marine hadn’t been going all out either.

Until now, Marine had focused solely on defense and repelling attacks, but she suddenly began darting left and right, covering her body in swift movements.

“Alright, let’s do this….”

Marine exhaled deeply.

Marine was confident in her skills—she believed she could match anyone. But if she had one weakness, it was her lack of real combat experience.

She had almost no experience fighting demons, let alone life-or-death battles against humans. Even when facing opponents with malicious intent, she only subdued them without going further.

It was an attitude rarely seen among adventurers of this era. To them, killing and being killed during adventures was simply part of the job.

In fact, one could argue that killing was the very essence of an adventurer’s work. But for Marine, who despised killing as much as she feared death, being an adventurer was a poor fit.

That was why she had chosen the path of a martial artist—a discipline with lower lethality, making it easier to subdue opponents without killing them.

She couldn’t even bring herself to slaughter animals, surviving instead on mushrooms and foraged fruits.

On days when she arrived in towns with adventurer guilds, she took on meager gathering quests to scrape by, swallowing tears when she occasionally got to eat meat.

Her temperament might have been better suited to the simple life of a village girl, but having grown up in a church orphanage, she couldn’t accept such an existence.

Relying on her natural talent, she left her village without a plan. Drifting aimlessly, three years ago, she first met Arina at a martial tournament held in the royal capital.

She had taken an instant liking to Arina’s face and clung to her, only to be pushed away by her prickly personality.

Back then, Arina was far more hostile than she was now—so much so that even someone as sociable as Marine found it impossible to approach her.

The first proper conversation between Marine and Arina happened the night before the tournament finals. The two, set to face each other the next day, coincidentally met at the same tavern.

Thanks to the tournament’s popularity, the capital was in a constant festive mood, and Arina had been drowning herself in alcohol every single day, making their encounter less of a coincidence than it seemed.

The atmosphere, the empty bottles—it was impossible not to get drunk.

Under any other circumstances, Marine wouldn’t have been able to hold a conversation with Arina, whose misogyny was at its peak during that period. But Marine seized the moment and spoke to her.

Thoroughly drunk, Arina’s guard was significantly lowered.

Her hatred for women seemed to vanish—or rather, she no longer seemed capable of distinguishing between men and women.

To the intoxicated Arina, Marine was simply a good drinking companion who listened quietly.

Mid-conversation, Marine suddenly voiced a question that popped into her head.

“By the way, why did you even enter this tournament? Unlike me, you could’ve made a lot of money taking high-rank quests, right?”

Arina, already drunk, now seemed on the verge of passing out, blinking sluggishly as her head repeatedly drooped and jerked back up.

“First prize… artifact… revenge….”

Mumbling in a fading voice, Arina finally face-planted onto the table.

Huh? She was out cold.

A woman drunk and asleep alone in public? That defied Marine’s common sense, but given Arina’s reputation at the time, no one dared lay a finger on her.

Marine quietly stood up and left the tavern.

The next day, the finals of the much-anticipated tournament ended in an anticlimax.

Since Marine had only entered for the prize money, the runner-up reward was more than enough for her. The artifact, the first-place prize, was better off going to someone who actually needed it.

So Marine forfeited the final match.

Good deed done. Maybe Arina will be touched and treat me nicer next time?

Feeling proud of herself, she went to collect her reward—only to be met with:

“What the hell are you scheming, you little bitch…?!”

An inexplicably furious Arina stood before her.

“Huh?”

Marine thought Arina would understand if she explained. But when she did, Arina only grew angrier.

“Ha, unbelievable. Since when do I need pity from some runt like you? Hey, do I look like some weak-ass loser who’d lose to you?”

The sheer hostility radiating from Arina left Marine stunned.

She knew some people hated being given a free win—those proud of their skills often saw it as disrespect.

But even then, they’d usually just frown or give a warning, not unleash a torrent of abuse like this.

To truly understand, Marine would’ve needed to know everything Arina had endured since becoming a woman—the countless humiliations and her deep-seated inferiority complex. But Marine didn’t know any of that.

When Marine just stood there, dumbfounded and speechless, Arina conjured a magic circle above her palm and shouted:

“You think I’ll just let this insult slide? I’ll show you who’s stronger!”

“You can’t do this here!”

A tournament official, waiting to hand out the prizes, screamed in panic. They were standing in front of the warehouse containing the rewards for the winner and runner-up—a royal treasury, no less.

Starting a fight here, especially if it damaged the warehouse, would mean a one-way trip to the execution block for everyone present.

Arina had to know that, yet she showed no hesitation.

With blue flames dancing in her hand, she lunged. This girl’s hopeless. Marine sighed.

The next instant, Arina was rolling on the ground.

“Calmed down yet?”

Arina’s eyes widened in shock.

She couldn’t speak. Never in her life had she been subdued so effortlessly.

She was a natural-born genius—an overwhelming prodigy without equal.

By the time she was old enough to fight, she was already stronger than most adults.

Not even her mock battles with the Hero, her first clash with a Demon Army commander, or her encounter with a dragon—a creature she’d been told would kill her on sight—had ended with her being floored this easily.

(Her humiliating defeat while incapacitated didn’t count.)

A hangover was no excuse for Arina at full strength. She gritted her teeth.

“I let my guard down. It wouldn’t go like this if we fought for real.”

“Oh? Then let’s settle this properly. But we’re moving locations—fighting here would cause trouble for everyone else.”

They relocated to the tournament arena. Though the match was scheduled, the time wasn’t, so no audience was called. Strangely, only one official followed them.

The distance was set at twenty paces—the standard for mage duels, neither too disadvantageous nor too favorable for either side.

“Then, we’ll begin. Ready!”

The official, unprompted, took it upon himself to act as referee.

Not like he’s getting paid for this.

But from his perspective, getting a private showing of the finals—a match people would’ve paid to see—was reward enough.

“Begin!”

At the referee’s booming voice, the two moved instantly—Marine forward, Arina backward.

Creating distance? Textbook.

Though she hadn’t done so earlier, keeping range was basic strategy for a mage against a close-combat fighter. As Marine shifted to close the gap, a swift magic projectile stabbed into the ground at her feet.

A warning shot. Marine steadied her stance, watching for openings. When Arina saw no movement, she drew her staff and began casting. The spell’s power was visibly immense.

If Marine approached, Arina would suppress her with rapid spells. If she hesitated, Arina would force her hand with higher-tier magic.

A relentless tempo, leaving no room for hesitation. If Marine tried to close in, Arina would just create distance again and repeat the process.

Most opponents, caught in this loop, would either recklessly charge in frustration and get blasted or coldly realize their inevitable defeat and fall while searching for an opening.

Either way, the result was the same.

Running wasn’t an option—Arina wasn’t careless enough to let prey escape.

But Marine didn’t move. Arina didn’t question it.

Some opponents, overwhelmed by the impossible choice, would freeze until defeat took them.

And the woman before her looked especially stupid. Probably feels like her head’s about to explode right now.

The match was decided. Completing her spell, Arina unleashed a massive fireball that filled half the arena.

A tsunami of flames swallowed Marine whole.

Is she going to die? The referee’s jaw dropped in horror.

But then—the impossible happened. The fiery wave split in two. At the point of division stood Marine, fist extended.

“What kind of nonsense—?!”

That attack had been on par with the Hero’s sacred sword techniques. And she’d blocked it bare-handed?

Arina wasn’t given time to process the shock. The force behind Marine’s punch surged forward, disrupting her stance.

“Guh…!”

Just as Arina had done earlier, Marine allowed no chance to recover. In an instant, she closed the distance, seized Arina’s wrist, and threw her down.

“Match over?”

“I can still fight!”

Even knowing she was outmatched, Arina thrashed against Marine’s hold.

Still won’t admit defeat, huh?

Well, if that’s how it is~

Marine pulled Arina up and firmly grasped her ample chest.

“Kyaaah♡”

“Whoa. What’s that sound? If you keep making noises like that, I might get serious.”

Marine released Arina’s wrist and used her other hand to grope both breasts.

The texture was nice, but the real fun was in the way Arina shuddered with each touch.

“Hahh♡ Nngh♡ Let go…!”

“You won’t admit defeat, so this is your punishment. Ready to apologize? Or not?”

“You think I’m a kid?! You really think I’ll—Kyaahn♡”

“Your body’s honest, but your mouth sure isn’t. Let’s see who breaks first.”

Marine’s left hand trailed down to Arina’s thigh, inching dangerously inward.

“Y-You’re insane! Stop it right now!”

“Losers don’t get to give orders. Still not apologizing? Not that I mind either way…”

Whispering softly, Marine lightly nipped Arina’s ear.

“Ugh, stop! I’m sorry, I’m sorryyy!”

That evening, after “disciplining” the arrogant mage and returning to her inn, Marine’s excitement faded, replaced by a creeping unease.

I got carried away in the moment, but wasn’t that straight-up a crime?

Even in an era with poor women’s rights, sexual assault wasn’t tolerated. A casual brush might’ve been overlooked, but what she’d done was outright groping. If Arina reported her, she’d be branded a criminal without question.

But given her personality, she probably won’t go to the guards. Maybe it’s fine?

Just as she thought that—knock knock.

“Eek!”

Marine had no friends in this vast world. She’d already eaten and paid for her stay, so it couldn’t be the innkeeper.

No one should be visiting her this late.

Are they here to arrest me? Did she report it already? No other possibility came to mind.

“Wh-Who’s there?”

Her voice trembled as she called toward the door.

I’m not ready to be chased out yet! Not that criminals got to choose.

But the voice that answered was unexpectedly pleasant—soft, familiar.

“It’s me.”

Her body moved before her mind. Swinging the door open, she found Arina standing there, gaze lowered, nervously twisting a lock of her silver hair.