"Too careless, Miss Turing," Dunke's voice suddenly rang out from behind, a sharp cold light flashed, illuminating Turing's eyes with stars.
With a hiss, the fishmouth pen stabbed straight into Turing's waist, but in a blink of an eye, Turing's figure shifted. The fishmouth grazed the hem of Turing's clothes.
"The backdrop is well used, Miss," Dunke said.
"But it's too reckless. There's no need to use it against attacks that can be avoided," Turing replied.
"If the enemy doesn't attack you with a killing intent, then using it in that moment...” Dunke said.
"It's like losing a trump card directly," Turing finished.
Not surprised at all by Turing's displacement, in the next instant before Turing could react, Dunke did not hesitate and forcefully kicked Turing's back, sending Turing flying out of the shallow water.
A feeling of weightlessness swept through Turing's body. Without being able to tell which way was north, south, east, or west, Turing, stupefied, plunged into the deep, bottomless lake.
Instinctively, Turing widened her eyes and quickly scanned the unfamiliar surroundings.
The emerald green lake water reflected the colors of the water plants. The sunlight penetrated shallowly, adding a gradually shifting exquisite beauty to the hazy lake light.
However, a faint and elusive fish shadow gave this scenery, which should have been beautiful, a hint of terror.
Turing tightly grasped the broken sword in her hand, held her breath, and carefully examined all the possible defensive blind spots where a dagger could be thrust.
"Turing, do you want to know Lady Maria's plan?" Dunke asked.
"She told me that if you're not strong enough," Dunke continued.
"You won't be able to be useful in the upcoming battle."
"So, we might as well deal with you right here and now."
Underneath the water, hidden currents surged. Several fish shadows swayed like ominous and elusive creatures lurking in the dark corners, almost causing Turing to let out a breath.
Unable to unfold her magic vision in the water, Turing had no choice but to rapidly move her eyes up, down, left, and right, trying her best to observe every little change in her surroundings.
If she weren't underwater right now, Turing would probably already have sweat drenching her back.
A while later, seeing that the other side still hadn't taken the initiative to attack, Turing gritted her teeth and frantically kicked her legs, swimming upward, attempting to escape from this difficult situation.
Looking at the lake surface where the sunlight generously poured, Turing felt like a traveler who had encountered rain after a long drought, and she vigorously swam towards it.
However, at that moment, a very shallow and very close whisper happened to sound gently by Turing's ear.
"Although you can escape from fate," the whisper said.
"But Turing, are you the valuable one?"
Startled, Turing turned her head to see the iceberg-like woman right behind her, holding the fishmouth in a reverse grip, using her entire body to exert the most ruthless and explosive force capable of tearing apart a human body, and fiercely stabbing towards Turing's neck.
Not only that, her arm even produced two phantoms, evidently one created by the backdrop and the other real.
Turing's pupils contracted, the ever-changing battlefield in front of her seemed to slow down to thousands of times slower than normal.
Turing knew that with Dunke's skill, she wouldn't be able to hide her body parts to the extent of being invisible.
There must be one of these two who is telling the truth, she is forcing Turing to make a choice.
"But fighting is not like that."
Turing is not someone lacking in combat experience.
She didn't block the dagger, but in the moment she emerged from the water, she swung her broken sword in a perfect circle.
The huge sword swept across Dunkirk, cutting through both arms connected to the shoulders, and directly severing her own arm along with the beak on her hand.
Black blood surged up, covering a large area of the water surface in an instant.
Using her momentum, Turing swiftly flipped onto a nearby small island, and watched Dunkirk, who had not emerged from the water for a long time. She began to worry.
"Teacher... Teacher?"
After two worried calls, a woman with a severed arm slowly crawled up from the stone-covered shore.
Although there was still a smile on her face, it was not difficult to see from her bedraggled figure that she was somewhat exhausted.
"Well done, Miss."
"You really are a rare genius of the century. It seems that the third stage can be quickly passed as well."
*Cough cough.*
Concerned, Turing walked over and squatted down next to the lying Dunkirk.
"Are you alright..."
"I'm really sorry, because you said you wanted to get rid of me or something, so I got a bit heavy-handed."
Dunkirk coughed twice and waved her hand.
"It's alright... I was just joking."
"Training needs a bit of pressure to unleash potential, right?"
"It's okay."
Turing frowned slightly, noticing Dunkirk's uneasy expression and somewhat unnatural body movements, and continued to ask.
"But what about your injury..."
