"Sister Noah..."

At the very edge of the spectators, Isaac—the lowly scullery maid—watched anxiously as the two figures faced off in the grand hall’s center.

"How could this be... How did this happen? It’s just so unscientific..."

In her ear, Joshua murmured through an invisible owl-mounted communicator, flipping book pages lazily.

"Yeah... Why did Sister Noah become a Court princess? And why turn dragon-like? It’s all so strange..."

Isaac nodded softly with a quiet "Mm-hmm," careful not to draw attention.

"? No—I mean, how can a bust that size fit into such a small space? And it’s bigger than mine now! Totally unscientific."

"Sister Joshua! Is this really the time for that!?"

Barely suppressing a shout, Isaac’s voice turned sharp, her cheeks puffing like a blowfish.

"Hmm... If you’re worried about Noah, don’t bother."

Amidst towering book piles, Joshua looked utterly relaxed—unlike the tense Isaac.

"Isaac only just became Holy Maiden, so she wouldn’t know. Noah holds the Temple Knight title."

...

The first match of the Court Trial began.

Both vanished instantly, colliding mid-air.

Silva gripped her axe, steadied her breath, and swung a heavy arc. The slow but precise strike aimed straight for Noah’s chest, pulling like a magnet.

Silva’s attacks were pure killing art. As a battle-hardened Demon Lord, she knew exactly where to strike for maximum pain, swift disablement, or fragile points—inflicting ruin with minimal blows.

She could already picture it: Noah’s chest caving in, blood spraying with a choked gasp, collapsing defeated.

Everything flowed smoothly, her seasoned instincts whispering victory. Almost boringly so.

But as the axe neared Noah’s bust, Noah flashed an innocent smile. A tiny step sideways—she slipped past the blade by a hair’s breadth.

Like a mouse teasing a cat, or a butterfly dancing on steel.

The missed impact startled Silva. Her planned follow-ups crumbled into chaos.

A dozen powerful, momentum-driven axe swings—all effortlessly dodged by Noah.

Noah’s doeskin-booted feet tapped lightly, shifting with Silva’s force. Each bone-shattering blow deflected as if weightless.

Every near-miss failed to graze Noah’s prominent chest, fluttering skirt, or wingtips. Silva stared in disbelief.

"Attacks this soft~ can’t even touch me, you know~."

Like a fragrant sprite, Noah closed in as Silva’s assault ended. Her heavy, tightly-bound bust pressed forward as she whispered teasingly in Silva’s ear.

"!"

Silva jolted, yanking the axe back for a point-blank strike—but Noah slapped her wrist.

Pain flared. Silva nearly dropped her weapon. A leather-gloved fist slammed into her chest before she could react.

"Ugh!"

Her body locked up. The weak punch shattered her breath. Her axe clattered away as she stumbled back.

"Is this all? What a pity~."

Noah stood hands behind her back, relaxed—as if Silva’s hard-earned skills meant nothing.

Silva crushed her rising fury, breathing deep. A veteran warrior, she accepted defeat in close combat.

If Noah dodged everything... what strike couldn’t she avoid?

Before the thought formed, Noah’s kick struck—a black-stockinged leg, snug and powerful, aimed at Silva’s temple.

Silva blocked. Bone-deep numbness shot through her arms—not broken, but vibrating from the force.

She readied a counter—then froze. Noah’s pose was indecent: her thigh-high skirt barely covered her modesty, spilling milky-white flesh.

"Don’t stare at others’ legs—it’s rude~."

Noah held the kick, pouting.

"You kicked it open!"

Silva shouted, hiding a blush. Pain eased with her breath. She shoved Noah’s leg back hard.

"——————"

Before Noah could strike again, Silva’s head morphed into a massive dragon skull. It roared—a sound radiating ancient dominance.

"Ugh..."

Even shielded, the dragon aura hit spectators as sound waves. Nearby maids and soldiers clapped hands over ringing ears.

"I’ll need to upgrade the hexahedron against sound attacks."

On the throne, Ledyah maintained the barrier, thoughtful.

Noah—least affected at the epicenter—had retreated early. But the roar widened her eyes, freezing her for a heartbeat.

Silva’s assault continued. Flames gathered in the dragon throat. Scorching fire erupted like a river, flooding the barrier instantly.

Noah vanished in roaring flames—her tiny form fragile against nature’s wrath.

"Sacred Domain, unfold."

A soft chant. A sphere bloomed around Noah, carving a calm sanctuary in the inferno.

The dragonfire raged ten minutes. Metal would melt; ore would liquefy.

"So hot~."

Unharmed, Noah glowed pink from the heat—like after a sauna. Her slender fingers tugged her top’s neckline, letting cool air flow into her deep cleavage.