"Come on! Let me utterly destroy you!"

Barton laughed sharply, his voice grating like nails on a chalkboard. His five fingers stretched outward, clawing fiercely at Lea.

Screeeech—

A sound akin to fabric being torn apart pierced the air, shrill and unsettling.

Sensing something, Lea's expression shifted dramatically. The sacred light around her solidified at once, its radiant golden hues coalescing into a sturdy barrier.

**[Holy Light Protection]**

This was her strongest defensive technique. In a previous encounter with chaotic spatial magic, it was this same move that protected her and Moen from the harms of spatial turbulence.

But following Barton’s seemingly effortless clawing motion, her spherical barrier twisted visibly, its surface deforming with symmetrical indentations. The golden brilliance bore the marks of precision cuts, as though struck simultaneously by multiple supreme alchemical blades.

Yet Lea saw nothing.

"Combat techniques…?" Lea murmured, her large eyes shimmering.

There wasn't a trace of magical energy. It could only be a combat technique.

"But how is it this fast?" she wondered.

While combat techniques don’t typically require preparatory actions, they usually involve signature poses or sequences, as they rely on a combination of battle aura and martial techniques to merit the term "combat technique." Yet Barton’s move just now—it was as simple as flexing his fingers.

Reflecting on the brief skirmish between Moen and Barton earlier, Lea realized his attacks had been just as covert and elusive during that exchange.

No wonder he ranked among the empire’s most wanted fugitives, she thought to herself.

"Hey, little girl, dare to daydream in the middle of combat with me?"

The beast-like snarl of Barton's laughter erupted. In that instant, a bone-chilling sense of dread, saturated with the aura of death, surged toward Lea.

The space in front of her distorted for a moment, as though some invisible force had swiped across it.

A pitch-black line appeared, stretching from one edge of her vision to the other. It reminded her of mason's lines used during construction to ensure straight edges.

But whatever that line was, it was far from harmless.

Because in the very instant it appeared, Lea saw a mark etch itself onto her barrier of sacred light.

A slash.

This time, the cut was infinitely clearer than before.

"Well now, starting with such intensity might be a bit impolite," Barton sneered, a grin spreading across his face. "But then again, isn't it fitting for someone like me—a scoundrel hated by all?"

"So, forgive me, lovely! I'm not that gentle to everyone either!"

Barton waved his hand sharply at Lea.

TWAAAANG—

It resembled the sound of an impossibly fine metallic wire being plucked, the resulting noise so piercing it seemed to drill into the listener’s ears.

Lea’s pupils contracted sharply. At that lightning-fast moment, she had no time to unleash any new technique. Moreover, her strongest defense was already deployed.

All she could do was throw herself to the ground to avoid the attack.

And so that same black line appeared once more. This time, it sliced not only behind Lea but through everything in its path: ancient trees so large it took over a dozen men to surround them, jagged boulders scattered across uneven terrain, and… her barrier of sacred light.

Then…

Everything was cleaved apart.

The giant trees, the rugged stones, her sacred barrier—all were divided neatly in half in an instant.

From the sky, one could clearly see a sweeping, fan-shaped clearing carved into the dense forest—a swath that looked as though it had been scythed by death.

*Crumble…*

The forest floor reverberated as felled trees slammed into the ground, their crashing impacts merging with clouds of rising dust.

"Cough, cough… What… what is this…?" Lea staggered to her feet amidst the deafening sounds and swirling debris of the collapsing forest.

"Hnnngh…" She winced at the sharp pain in her abdomen, slowly lifting her trembling hand, which pressed firmly against the spot.

Her vision blurred, overtaken by the crimson stain coating her palm.

Blood.

Her pupils quivered.

Despite her rapid evasion, she had still been injured.

"It hurts… so much…" Lea whispered, her tone mingling fear and despair. Tears began to pool in her eyes. "Am I… truly this useless?"

When she fought alongside Moen, even scarier foes couldn’t so much as hurt her. But now, faced with Barton alone, she had barely managed to survive a single strike—narrowly avoiding being cleaved in two.

Was this the gulf that separated them?

"Hey, hey, already giving up?" Barton scoffed, twisting his fingers. "How boring. I’m not even having fun yet."

"No… I’m not done."

Lea clenched her blood-smeared hand into a fist.

A holy light radiated from her palm, its warmth evaporating the blood it touched.

Under the healing glow of her holy magic, the wound on her abdomen visibly closed, layer by layer.

"As you wish… this is only the beginning."

She rose to her feet and lifted her gaze, determination banishing fear from her mind. Her eyes locked with Barton’s, unwavering.

*Think, Lea, think,* she told herself.

The enemy was strong, his level far beyond her own. But a chance to win still existed.

All her rigorous, ten years of study couldn’t have been for nothing. There had to be a way.

Before, it was always him who believed in her.

But now…

It was her turn to believe in herself.

Lea's eyes flickered with resolve.

Barton's attack techniques were peculiar. They carried the destructive power and anomalies typical of magic but retained a speed that outstripped most combat techniques. Against his invisible, nearly invincible strikes, simple defense or evasion offered no hope of victory.

In a battle against such a foe, to remain passive would spell certain doom.

So, at a moment like this, the only option was…

Suddenly, a new radiance, different from the healing light in her left hand, flared to life in her right—the light grew increasingly brilliant, increasingly sharp.

It was as if the goddess herself had descended to deliver judgment with a blade of divine punishment.

**[Blessing of Divinity].**

A sacred aura enveloped Lea as she gripped her radiant blade of light. With a burst of courage, she—

Launched herself straight at Barton!

Physical enhancements.

Speed enhancements.

Reaction enhancements.

And countless threads of light unraveling outward to amplify her perception!

In that moment, under the heavenly glow of sacred magic, Lea’s very being transformed. Her hair danced wildly, her skin shone like polished jade. She was no longer just a girl—but a valkyrie marching steadfast toward victory, unyielding in the face of evil.

Lea wielded her sacred blade and, locking onto a vulnerable point in Barton’s presence, executed a slicing strike with all her might.

CLANG!

The blade met resistance mid-air.

It clashed against some unseen, razor-sharp object seemingly waiting for her attack. The impact sent tremors through her arms, and though her sacred blade of light wasn’t a physic object, she nearly lost her grip on it.

Yet, before her was nothing.

"Oh? Intriguing." Barton casually flexed a finger, halting Lea’s sharp divine blade just inches before it could reach him. He eyed the young girl before him, his mocking grin deepening.

"I’ll give you credit for your audacity," he sneered. "But you’re no warrior. There isn’t even a trace of battle aura on you."

"…So what?" Lea flatly responded.

"Without battle aura, you dare approach a real warrior—one who wields formidable combat techniques—in melee combat? Don’t you think… you’re being rather foolish?"

Barton lowered the finger he was using to guide his invisible, deadly edges.

In an instant—

A silent blade, carrying frigid winds of death, slashed toward the girl up close.

Barton's grin widened into one of cruel glee.

He could already envision the delicate girl’s blood bursting like a fountain—a beautiful, macabre shower of crimson.

Heh, even if strengthened, so what? Without the experience and on-the-spot reaction of a martial fighter, such a sudden attack at a distance...

Yet—

"Huh?"

His satisfied smirk suddenly froze.

Before him, the girl’s body twisted nimbly. It was as though she could foresee the attack, evading it with uncanny precision. Her slim waist turned sharply, allowing her sacred blade to lunge forward with renewed finesse, the strike aimed at Barton’s unprotected gaps.

The strike…

Was directed toward a flaw Barton didn’t even realize he had left exposed.

Damn it! How did she react!

Barton's heart almost stopped beating for a beat, and the battle aura automatically started to circulate, forming a defense on his body surface.

Crossing the third-tier to reach the four-tier, the powerful battle aura that can be substantialized in reality is a barrier that even that duke's son, who holds a powerful weapon, cannot break through easily.

But... In the next moment, what was happening before him made Barton lose his soul.

Because that Holy Light Blade, as if ignoring the battle aura around him, pierced through without any hindrance.

Piercing straight to his vital part!

...

A brief silence.

Perhaps because it is close to the edge of this forest, one or two bursts of chilly breeze blew through.

Barton was startled to cold sweat by the gentle breeze and he shivered. Coming to his senses, he looked to the side, still shaken.

Beside his own neck.

So close.

Just centimeter away.

That terrifying holy blade would've pierced directly into his major artery.

The holy light that can even ignore the defense of battle aura, if it really strike him... It's a result that Barton didn't even dare to think about it in detail.

Damn it!

Are all holy lights such terrifying things?

If I had known earlier, I should have been a follower of the goddess too!

Barton cursed inwardly.

Fortunately, the on-the-spot reaction of the fourth-tier martial fighter saved him, allowing him to evade this attack at the critical moment.

But why...

Could such a move really be done by a little girl who doesn't even have the slightest trace of battle aura?

Even if physic enhanced, the close-range combat skills and experience that only martial fighters possess...

"I...I like reading."

Suddenly, the girl in front of him seemed to have noticed his confusion and whispered:

"So I learned a little bit... skills of the fighters while reading."

"......"

Barton's eyes widened with rage.

Reading a book?

A little bit?

Skills of the fighters?

What a joke!

My hard-earned martial artist skills are something you can surpass by just reading a book?

Barton low roar, did not use the most often used that special technique, but violently swinging his fist, smashed at the the girl in close to him.

But it was as if God was playing a joke on him. The girl's movements were as flexible as a fish in the water, and every time she could smoothly dodge his attacks, and incidentally cast the holy light blade in her hand to the dead center of his defense, forcing him to dodge in a sorry state.

Although he wasn't hit by the attack even once, Barton was furious, because he actually had the feeling of being toyed with by his own prey in the palm!

“Sure enough.”

At this time, in the midst of the elegant attack that was like a dancing butterfly, the voice of a young girl came again,

"Mr. Barton, what you relies on would be only that one strange move, your other aspects, whether it's strength, speed, or moves, from the level of the fourth-tier, they all seem quite......mediocre.

At least... can't compare to Moen's."

"What..."

Barton’s breath hitched.

Mediocre?

Him?

Barton?

Impossible!

As if Lea’s words had triggered some sensitive nerve, Barton’s eyes instantly turned bloodshot, his expression distorted like a feral beast:

"You’re lying! I am Barton! Barton the Corpse-Slicer, who makes people tremble in fear! Mediocre? No! No one has ever dared to say that about me, ever!"

...

"Barton! You’re such a dimwit!"

"Barton! You’re too lazy! Even Fhil, who’s in the same grade as you, has already mastered the new techniques!"

"Barton! All you do is waste time on useless things! If you keep this up, you'll completely become a failure!"

Unpleasant memories floated to the surface of his mind.

"Those who dare say such things... are dead!"

Barton’s ten fingers curved like claws, as if sketching invisible strands, aiming straight ahead at Lea’s position.

As if sensing something, Lea’s fair face turned slightly pale.

No matter how she tried to evade, there was still one slender, faint ink-like thread, seemingly harmless but undeniably present, which landed upon her fragile figure.

"Damn it."

She murmured softly, her dress fluttering like scattered petals in the wind.

Yet her delicate and vulnerable appearance only fueled Barton’s increasingly manic, sinister laughter:

"Die! Die for me!"

Barton spread his hands wide and flung them forward abruptly!

In an instant, just like what had occurred previously with the giant trees, mountain rocks, and holy light barriers, the ink thread attached to Lea’s fragile body transformed into a smooth, deadly cut.

A death-dealing cut that severed life itself!

*Thud.*

The sound of flesh being sliced rang out. Before Barton’s exhilarated gaze, the delicate young girl was met with an invisible blade that, without exception, cleaved her into two halves.

Like the petals of a flower falling in final decay, the two severed halves of her fragile figure fell limply to the ground, unable to muster even a struggle or a scream of despair.