It's So Damn Creepy... (2)
Klaus had graduated from the Imperial Military Academy with top honors. Because of that, he knew the truth. Tactics were never based on the gut feelings of grizzled old veterans. They were the product of cold, hard statistics and probabilities distilled from thousands upon thousands of battle records, outcomes, reports, and evaluations. The reason the Empire had been able to expand for so long was thanks to those blood-soaked field manuals.
That was why Klaus couldn't understand the situation unfolding before his eyes. No—precisely because he couldn't understand it, he was able to analyze it with terrifying clarity. His mind was currently racing, calculating the error rate between every clause in the field manual and the insane antics being performed by the witch in front of him. And that error rate had long since surpassed anything a human could possibly produce.
Eighteen Subduing Dragon Palms.
The first principle of the Imperial Army's individual swordsmanship manual: secure space. Yet Thirin charged straight at the club, willingly abandoning her own space. It was practically suicidal. But Thirin flowed into the attacker's blind spot, creating a paradox where the narrowest space became the safest one.
The second principle: single-point breakthrough. When surrounded, the only path to survival was to focus all power on the weakest point, create a crack in the encirclement, and escape through the gap. This was both the manual's teaching and an ironclad rule proven by countless real battles.
But Thirin openly mocked that iron rule. Instead of breaking through the enemy in the center, she used him. She brushed past the attacker's body, slipped behind him, and with a single light kick, made one enemy attack another. She turned the entire encirclement into a chain of obstacles that interfered with each other, neutralizing them completely.
This wasn't tactics. This couldn't be standardized into tactics. This was... yes. This was something that should be called an art—a performance—rather than tactics.
And finally, the third principle: efficient movement. Klaus thought he could actually hear the manual tearing apart. It felt like the very laws of physics that governed the human body were being denied. Thirin was fluttering in the wind. It wasn't just Klaus who felt that way. Even the eyes of the thugs rushing at her filled with bewilderment.
"You crazy bitch, you think you're some kind of bird?!"
"Hehe! Flap flap!"
Someone shouted desperately, but Thirin responded by cackling loudly as if answering him. Her hair, fluttering in the wind, sparkled under the moonlight.
"....."
Klaus realized that the field manual simply didn't apply to Thirin. The afterimages of her flowing hair. The dance that completely filled the narrow alley. This wasn't the fake elegance of a socialite's ballroom dance. This was raw. Primal beauty blooming on the boundary between life and death.
Klaus felt a strange sense of déjà vu from those dazzling movements. That bizarre beauty that bloomed in a hopeless situation with no escape route or weapon. It was like a flower in full bloom in the darkness...
Suddenly, Thirin's movements stopped.
"Ah, fuck. Ah, wait. Ah, ugh... shit..."
"!"
All the majestic impressions and images floating in Klaus's head collapsed instantly at Thirin's groan. In their place, a different kind of horrifying premonition flashed through his mind. Klaus saw the future. That grotesquely writhing body, that paling face, that cold sweat pouring down like rain as she clamped her hand over her mouth...
No. Please. If she throws up here......!
"Ah... whew...... I'm fine. I'm fine. Hoo...... Not dizzy. Not dizzy...... Hoo......"
"...."
Fortunately, that great catastrophe did not occur. The first to grasp the situation was the thug who had held out until the very end. The fear vanished from his eyes, replaced by contempt and certainty.
"Ha, you wench! Your strength's all gone!"
The other fallen thugs heard him and groaned as they staggered to their feet. Klaus realized it too. Thirin had no decisive blow to overwhelm her opponents. Everything she'd done was nothing more than a desperate evasive maneuver to survive.
"That's how it is with women. Your tricks were impressive, but that's the end of it."
The leader sneered as he approached.
"Today I'll get to see exactly how your pretty face gets ruined. Don't even think about leaving here nicely."
Thirin barely managed to suppress her dry heave. Then, sounding utterly fed up, she spat out,
"Ugh, forget it, forget it. I'm done with Plum Blossom Steps."
What did she mean, done? Was she going to run away...?
Strong
"DIE!!!!!"
"BEGGAR PUNCH!!!!!"
-CRACK.
"KYAAAAAAAAGH!!!!!!"
A scream filled the narrow alley.
"Ughhh......"
The groans of the thugs echoed through the alleyway. Klaus couldn't tear his eyes away from that surreal scene. The woman who should have been dead by all logic stood perfectly fine in the middle of five completely shattered thugs.
Thirin looked around at the thugs rolling on the ground, then lightly kicked up a rusty dagger one of them had dropped, catching it casually in her hand. She approached the closest one—the one who couldn't even groan properly—and pressed the blade against his chin.
"...!"
Klaus thought Thirin was about to deliver the finishing blow. He tried desperately to open his mouth. No matter how much the thugs had attacked first, committing murder in front of an Imperial security officer was absolutely unacceptable.
But what came out of Thirin's mouth was something completely unexpected.
"Alright, it's survey time."
Thirin spoke as casually as a part-timer handing out flyers.
"Anyone here who has ever had sexual relations with the opposite sex without obtaining their consent, raise your hand."
"W-what... are you saying...!"
The thug with the blade pressed to his throat let out a hoarse voice. Thirin clicked her tongue in disgust.
"I'm asking if you've ever committed rape, you brain-dead morons who can't understand plain speech."
At the blunt word, the faces of the other groaning thugs turned deathly pale. No matter how rotten they were, their intelligence wasn't low enough to miss the intent behind Thirin's words. Answering "yes" here wouldn't end as a normal conversation.
Even Klaus broke out in a cold sweat. For some reason, he felt a chill between his legs.
The first one questioned shouted desperately.
"N-no! I haven't! I've never done anything like that! I swear!"
"Shut up. Unless you want your skull turned around."
"!!!"
Thirin said quietly.
"I never said you could open your mouth."
"......!!!"
Klaus, even while sprawled on the ground, was dumbfounded. Then why the hell did she ask?
Of course, Thirin hadn't asked without thinking. She hadn't asked expecting an answer in the first place. Thirin didn't believe words. Instead, she believed in body language. Over the past year, using the Enlightenment System and her sharp observation skills, she had roughly established a method for interrogating criminals.
'No one's avoiding eye contact. No one's struggling pointlessly either. They're just afraid of getting cut unfairly. Not afraid of the crime they committed. They're acting pretty self-righteous about it.'
In that case...
'Looks like they don't have that kind of experience.'
"Hmph."
Thirin nodded in satisfaction.
"At least there's room for leniency in your behavior."
At Thirin's verdict, the thugs were gripped by a fear far greater than the relief of having survived. They recalled the horrifying rumors about a certain "witch."
"W-witch...! I've heard about her...! She beats them up and then always asks that question...!"
"Whether they answer or not... it doesn't matter, she cuts them all anyway...!"
The thugs' fear crossed a critical threshold.
The thugs let out blood-curdling screams.
"W-witch! It's the witch! That witch is after my, my third leg!"
"D-don't castrate meeeeeee!!!!"
"KYAAAAAAAAAAAGH!!!!!!"
They fled in bizarre postures, clutching desperately between their legs.
"Run for it!!!!!"
In an instant, silence fell over the back alley.
Thirin was utterly dumbfounded.
"Third leg my ass. Must be a tumor or something."
Thirin muttered to herself as she tossed the dagger in her hand to the ground and walked toward Klaus. Her shadow completely covered his body.
"Get up, Mr. Stalker."
A cold, beautiful voice whispered in Klaus's ear.
"You owe me now. This is something I absolutely cannot let slide."
"........."
Thirin looked down at Klaus with an icy gaze and said,
"Bring your captain. We need to have a parent-teacher conference."
Klaus felt a chill run down his spine.
"......Say that again."
"Captain, you heard me perfectly. I'm saying I need to borrow this stalker for a while."
"What exactly is your intention in saying something like that?"
Thirin gave the security captain a cold smile.
"His stalking ability is outstanding, isn't it? It'll be useful for finding people too."
"......"
To the dumbfounded captain, Thirin nodded as if she were quite pleased with herself.
"Using wicked talent for the sake of humanity. I really am a genius at personnel management."
Thirin added one final line.
"Please call me the Holy Maiden of Everland."
"......"
The captain felt a strong urge to smash his own skull in.