Charlotte watched as the assassins were ground to pieces. Deculein’s Steel spun dozens of times per second, turning the area into a scene of carnage as blood and flesh scattered. She quickly covered Maho’s eyes with her hands. When Maho tried to peek around them, Charlotte held her firmly, blocking her view completely.0

“W-why are you doing this?” Maho objected, her voice trembling.0

“You mustn’t look, Princess,” Charlotte insisted firmly.1

The situation remained dire. A dozen or so assassins had escaped the range of the attack, and the most dangerous threat, Diarnath, had yet to reveal itself. Charlotte gripped her sword, the mere act causing her right shoulder to throb with pain. It was an injury she had hidden from the princess, a wound bound by a curse.0

“Charlotte,” Deculein called, gripping his staff and keeping his eyes on the enemies. “Take the princess and leave. I will follow shortly. If we delay here, the princess will be in grave danger. The demonic energy is too dense.”0

“... Are you certain?” she asked.0

“Go,” he commanded.0

Charlotte hesitated but finally nodded. It wasn’t the time to be stubborn and insist on fighting together. She picked up Maho, and a piece of Wood Steel followed them, seemingly for protection.0

“Boss, I will stay and assist the professor,” Ron said.0

“... Understood,” she replied.0

As Charlotte turned with Maho, the demonic presence grew more distinct. Diarnath emerged nearby. Though it looked human, its silhouette was as faint as the setting sun. It was a hybrid of demon and ghost, a monster both material and fluid. Charlotte ran, adjusting her speed to shield the princess from the demonic energy.0

Whistle—0

Diarnath whistled mockingly as they ran away.0

“How far can those two women run?” Deculein wondered aloud, clinging...1