Fear

Eriri sat calmly in the driver's seat, completely indifferent to the city guards before her. Their fate had already been decided from the moment they laid greedy eyes on her.

The reason she hadn't disposed of them immediately was simple—she wanted Kureha to personally witness just how deep the rot within Jioral Kingdom ran.

The results were obvious. If even the lowest-ranking gatekeepers could brazenly fabricate accusations to capture women, one could only imagine how much suffering the common people endured.

As for the guards' excuses, Eriri didn't believe a single word. She wasn't blind—she had clearly seen the greed in their eyes just moments ago.

This only strengthened Kureha's resolve to overthrow the royal family.

"Lady Sword Saint, please, enter the city. We wouldn't want to delay your important matters." The lead guard spoke with a flattering smile.

As he spoke, he signaled his subordinates to step aside, making way for their passage into the capital.

Though Jioral Kingdom was situated near the demon race's territory, the royal capital itself was protected by layers of defense, making it an extremely secure location.

As such, the city gates only closed at night, and during the day, only a handful of guards were stationed there to maintain order.

However, Kureha, who was now seething with fury, had no patience for their nonsense. Without a word, she stepped out of the sports car, drew her longsword, and gracefully swept through the guards like a fleeting shadow.

By the time she returned her blade to its sheath, the guards' bodies had already been sliced cleanly in half, their remains falling to the ground in eerily smooth pieces.

After a day of training, Kureha's strength had reached the peak of the Level 2, just a step away from the Level 3.

Having observed the abilities of the so-called "Heroes" over the years, she was confident that her current power far surpassed those chosen by the gods.

As such, she held no fear of retribution from the Jioral Kingdom for slaughtering the city's gate guards.

Of course, the possibility of such consequences was almost nonexistent. Compared to the Sword Saint and the prestigious Greillet family, a few dead guards were utterly insignificant—certainly not worth the royal family making a fuss over.

Once Kureha returned to the car, Eriri restarted the engine and drove casually through the city gates into the royal capital.

Neither of them spoke about what had just transpired, as if nothing had happened at all.

The execution of the city guards was, of course, witnessed by some of the common folk near the inner gate. Initially, they panicked, fearing an invasion by the demon race.

However, their fears were quickly quelled when someone recognized Kureha and revealed her identity.

The moment they realized the Sword Saint was the one responsible, they immediately shifted the blame onto the slain guards instead.

In their hearts, the legendary Sword Saint—who had rendered countless meritorious services to the kingdom—could never possibly turn against the royal family without just cause.

Due to Kureha's presence, no one in the city dared to act rashly upon seeing Eriri's peculiar vehicle. Though its appearance intrigued them, none had the courage to stir up trouble.

Before long, news of the incident at the city gates, along with the arrival of the mysterious vehicle, spread throughout the kingdom's upper echelons and noble circles.

Yet, what piqued their interest even more was Eriri herself.

After all, beyond power and wealth, their greatest obsession was beauty. A young woman whose looks far surpassed even that of Princess Flare was bound to be an object of great desire among them.

-Most nobles, wary of Kureha's strength, refrained from making direct moves against Eriri. However, that didn't mean they wouldn't resort to underhanded tactics in secret.

Before long, Eriri noticed numerous prying eyes observing them from the shadows.

She didn't bother paying them any mind. Since she had promised Kureha that she would let her handle the kingdom's affairs, she wouldn't interfere unless someone directly provoked her.

Otherwise, as Kureha had previously speculated, Jioral Kingdom might have already been wiped off the map by now.

As for the few individuals who weren't deterred by the Sword Saint's presence, they included the king himself and the recently arrived Sword Hero.

The Sword Hero was a blonde-haired woman who enjoyed dressing in men's clothing. Though she shared Eriri's love for women, comparing their affections was nothing short of an insult to Eriri.

Unlike Eriri, who cherished women, the Sword Hero treated them as mere playthings. She often abused and even killed beautiful women for her own twisted pleasure, making her one of the vilest individuals in the kingdom.

Naturally, she was immediately drawn to Eriri, whose beauty far surpassed that of Flare. She was eager to witness firsthand just how stunning this mysterious newcomer truly was.

After all, she was utterly obsessed with Flare—if Eriri wasn't significantly more beautiful, she wouldn't mind tormenting her to death.

As for Kureha, the Sword Hero wasn't concerned in the slightest. She had absolute confidence in the power of her divine weapon, Ragnarok.

Thus, without hesitation, she left the royal palace, following the intelligence reports that detailed Eriri and Kureha's whereabouts.

However, before the Sword Hero could reach them, Eriri and Kureha had already encountered another individual who had no fear of Kureha's strength.

...

"Kureha, it's been a while. I heard you left the capital a few days ago. Is this someone you met during your travels?"

On a wide road, a voluptuous pink-haired woman sat atop a majestic unicorn, blocking the path of Eriri's sports car.

This woman was none other than Flare Arlgrande Jioral, the First Princess of Jioral Kingdom and one of the Ten Heroes—the Magic Hero.

Kureha's expression grew complicated as she met Flare's gaze. This was her first time facing Flare since joining the chat group.

If she hadn't seen the memory projections, she never would have believed that the girl before her—smiling with the warmth of a saint—was hiding such a depraved nature beneath her facade.

If this had been before, Kureha would have respectfully answered Flare's questions.

But now, all she could think about was capturing Flare.

As she had previously decided, she wanted to erase Flare's memories, strip her away from Jioral Kingdom, and give her a chance to start anew.

After a brief silence, Kureha finally spoke.

"Lady Flare, aren't you tired of pretending every day?"

Flare's body stiffened slightly, her expression turning somewhat unnatural.

Suppressing the irritation rising in her heart, Flare forced a smile and asked, "Kureha, what are you talking about? I don't understand."

"Is that so…? If you don't understand, then forget it."

Too many uncertainties remained, and since Kureha didn't want to rely on Eriri's strength, she wasn't ready to act against Flare just yet.

Even though she had surpassed the strength of the Heroes, trying to take on an entire kingdom alone was still unrealistic.

Moreover, without overwhelming power to crush all opposition, any large-scale conflict would inevitably drag innocent civilians into the chaos—something she refused to let happen.

Thus, Kureha decided to wait until her strength had increased further, ensuring absolute success before making her move. After all, it was only a matter of days.

Hearing Kureha's remark, Flare's smile faded slightly.

She fully understood what Kureha was implying. However, to maintain her carefully crafted image, she couldn't acknowledge such things—especially not in front of the commoners and her royal guards.

Although Flare was the First Princess of Jioral Kingdom, her life had been anything but privileged.

King Proum Jioral, a man obsessed with indulging in carnal pleasures, frequently sought entertainment outside the palace in his youth. Flare's mother had been one of his unfortunate victims.

As a result, Flare spent the first ten years of her life outside the palace, enduring a miserable existence alongside her mother.

It wasn't until she turned ten that the king decided to bring them into the palace—solely to ensure that royal bloodlines weren't left wandering outside his control.

However, this did not mark the beginning of a better life for Flare.

Due to her lowly origins, both she and her mother, as well as her younger sister Norne, suffered constant humiliation and oppression within the palace. They lived under the mercy of others, struggling to survive.

In the treacherous world of palace politics, where deception and death lurked at every corner, Flare's mother lasted only two years before perishing.

Left with no other options, Flare had to do whatever it took to survive—endlessly flattering those in power while shielding her younger sister.

Growing up in such an environment, Flare developed a deep-rooted aversion to her commoner origins. She believed that only by becoming a noble and solidifying her royal status could she protect herself.

Her transformation was fully realized when she awakened as the Magic Hero not long ago.

She subsequently expelled all other royal heirs from the palace—except for her beloved sister, Norne—securing her position as the kingdom's First Princess and heir to the throne.

This drastic shift in status caused Flare to lose herself completely, becoming the two-faced princess she was now.

Her relationship with Kureha had begun long before she became a Hero.

However, out of insecurity, Flare had concealed her origins from Kureha, always presenting herself as a dignified royal in her presence.

Without paying attention to Flare's expression, Kureha spoke coldly. "Lady Flare, if there's nothing else, could you allow us to pass?"

Her words drew the displeasure of one of the royal guards standing behind Flare.

"Sword Saint Kureha Clyret, mind your tone and manners. You are addressing the First Princess of the kingdom, not some commoner."

The man who loudly reprimanded Kureha was a towering, muscular figure with golden hair. He was the captain of the royal guards.

In the original timeline, he was the same man whom the Healing Hero transformed into a woman—only for him to be violated by his own subordinates under the influence of drugs before ultimately being burned to death.

This captain, Renard, was a ruthless and brutal man, embodying the corruption of Jioral Kingdom.

With the royal family backing him, Renard didn't fear Kureha's strength like an ordinary noble would.

He even cast a greedy glance at Eriri, his eyes gleaming with sinister intent.

Pointing at Eriri, Renard continued to bark out orders. "And you—how dare a mere commoner remain seated inside that strange contraption in the presence of Lady Flare? Get out at once and show proper respect!"

The moment he uttered those words, Kureha's gaze turned ice-cold, her killing intent surging.

Had he merely stopped at his first remark, she might have ignored him.

But the moment he targeted Eriri, Kureha discarded her previous plan of biding her time. 

Now, all she wanted was to see this insolent fool perish on the spot.

Before Kureha could make a move, Eriri spoke up beside her.

"Hey, pink-haired girl, shouldn't you keep a better watch on your dog? Letting it bark so recklessly is incredibly rude. And rude beasts… well, they tend to get punished."

As she spoke, Eriri casually raised her right hand, effortlessly making a snapping gesture.

Then, she continued with a smirk, "Like this…"

With a crisp snap of her fingers, Renard—who had been fully armored and seated on his horse—suddenly disintegrated into a fine mist of crimson flesh and blood. His remains splattered across the horse's back and the surrounding ground, painting a gruesome scene.

Only his severed head remained intact, resting eerily atop the saddle, a ghastly sight that sent shivers down the spines of all present.

Despite losing his body, Renard's brain did not shut down immediately. Like the bandits and slavers who had previously tried to ambush Eriri and Kureha, he remained conscious for a few agonizing moments.

With no heart to pump blood, his complexion turned deathly pale. His expression twisted into one of sheer terror and excruciating pain, his mouth opening and closing in a desperate attempt to scream.

But as nothing more than a severed head, he could no longer make a sound.

The chilling spectacle sent the surrounding royal guards into a panic. Several of them tumbled off their horses in fright, scrambling backward with horror-stricken expressions, their mouths unleashing terrified screams.

The watching civilians reacted similarly.

Death was not uncommon in this world. Even corpses hacked into multiple pieces were a familiar sight to many.

But what they had just witnessed was on an entirely different level—something beyond their comprehension, something nightmarish.

Meanwhile, the nobles' spies—who had been secretly observing Eriri—immediately retracted their gazes and fled. Any lingering thoughts of keeping tabs on her had vanished completely.

Their only priority now was to report back to their masters and urge them to abandon any schemes against Eriri.

This was far beyond what they could handle.

A chilling realization settled over them—had they not witnessed this firsthand, had they actually gone through with their plans to target Eriri when she was alone, their fates would have been no different from Renard's.

Recalling the gruesome fate of the fallen knight, the spies shuddered involuntarily, despite the sweltering heat of the day.

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