Chapter 164
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 164
Chapter Title: What an Indecent Appearance Is That?
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Standing alone was Aynsha.
Nearly a hundred guards of the White Dragon Clan.
Of those facing off against each other, it was only natural that the guards moved first.
Their very purpose was to obstruct the pursuit, but it wasn't just about hindering Rimon from finding clues.
Everyone knew it.
If they didn't attack now, they would never get another chance to fight.
Boom!
The first to strike was a shockwave.
Psionic energy burst from the sleeves swung by ten guards, layering upon itself like waves crashing in.
Following close behind were blades.
Dozens of guards leading with swords, spears, and sabers chased the psionic torrent like arrows loosed from a bow.
Supporting from the rear was a barrier.
The remaining guards clustered into formation, resonating their psionic energy in preparation to intercept whatever came.
Compared to the guards' perfectly coordinated movements, Aynsha's response was simple.
She expressionlessly extended one hand.
A straightforward action that didn't look remotely threatening or powerful.
But the moment that hand clenched into a fist, what happened was anything but simple.
Kraka-boom!
In the instant a pure white light shimmered, a pristine barrier erupted from the ground like a sprouting wall, scattering the incoming psionic waves.
The guards charging with spears and swords leaped high to vault over it, but that was merely their hope.
The moment Aynsha flipped her hand.
The shattered barrier instantly reformed into dozens of birds of light that soared toward them.
Only a handful of guards managed to intercept the arrow-swift birds.
Even they, having slashed the birds with their weapons, spat blood and fell as the scattered forms reformed in midair and rammed into them.
Amid the shadows tumbling down like pinecones, the birds of light relentlessly pursued the remaining guards.
But they didn't panic.
As if they had already foreseen this situation.
They swung hands and weapons infused with amplified psionic energy.
Rumble!
Palm winds, fist winds, ground winds, sword winds, and more.
Dozens of psionic blasts hurtling through the air battered the birds as a storm of telekinetic force capable of shredding steel.
The birds shattered into radiant fragments.
In their place appeared threads.
Hundreds, thousands of exceedingly fine threads that had intertwined to form the birds now revealed their true form as the psionics dispersed.
And in that moment of vulnerability.
The guards who had been struck down by the birds came charging at Aynsha once more, blood trickling from their mouths.
Seizing the one chance to reach her, just as they had foreseen.
But she had foreseen this too.
Thus, she moved the one finger she had deliberately held back.
That subtle motion, amplified by psionics, finely adjusted the dozens of threads coiled around her finger according to the Heavenly Net Formation Style.
The threads intertwined into the shape of an ox.
Psionics infused the form.
Three oxen shrouded in pure white radiance charged at the guards as if alive.
And then the clash erupted.
Bang! Thud! Boom!
Already internally injured from the first exchange, the guards couldn't evade the oxen and were sent flying.
They slashed at the oxen with their weapons, but the psionic-infused threads deflected every attack with flexible resilience.
Driven into a corner, they countered with another psionic storm.
The telekinetic blasts from dozens neutralized the psionics in the threads, slowing the oxen.
At that moment, the remaining three guards finally slipped past the charge and reached Aynsha.
They were no ordinary trio.
Each a grand master at the pinnacle.
The three strongest among the hundred White Dragon Clan guards gathered here swung their weapons at Aynsha.
Clang!
But their efforts were in vain.
The instant Aynsha spread her cardigan.
The once-ordinary fabric hardened like the impenetrable walls of Venusian steel, repelling their weapons.
Waves of psionics rippled from the cardigan like ocean swells, sweeping the three away in one breath.
“Guh!”
“Urk!”
Their organs churned by the explosive psionics bursting right in their faces, the three spat blood and were flung back.
Aynsha didn't spare them a glance.
She merely stared blankly at the next incoming psionic storm.
“This is bothersome. I'll end it in one go.”
As foreseen before the fight began, Aynsha clenched her fist.
And the moment she channeled the two streams of psionics flowing through her cardigan via her fingers into hundreds of threads.
The threads wove together intricately, manifesting a hundred weapons in midair.
『Seventy-Two Martial Streams, Three Ultimate Arts』
『White Soldiers' Uprising』
Swords, sabers, spears, halberds, axes, whips, hammers, and more.
The hundred weapons gleaming pure white resembled psionic forges more than mere armaments.
Even their mere manifestation incinerated the psionics fired by the guards.
Thud-thud-thud!
Was it because they sensed that immense power?
Or pure instinctual dread?
The guards aligned in ranks placed hands on the backs of those ahead, infusing their psionics.
Forward, forward, and forward again.
The psionics from dozens flowed like a tide, condensing into the foremost ten.
Veins bulging grotesquely across their bodies from overloading beyond limits, the ten spewed nosebleeds and bloody tears.
Yet they didn't halt the flow.
As if wringing out even their own lives.
They swung their sleeves, channeling the last dregs of psionics.
The psionic waves from the ten guards stacked into a tsunami, sweeping all before it.
Aynsha watched impassively, then flicked her fingers, sending the hundred weapons hurtling toward the deluge.
Kraka-booma-booma-boom!
The conclusion predetermined before the battle even started had arrived for them.
'Something still bugs me.'
While Aynsha waged her one-against-many battle against her own clan.
Rimon wasn't paying the slightest attention.
He focused solely on his thoughts.
Those were sacrificial pawns placed to block pursuit and buy time—worrying about them would just play into the enemy's hands.
That was why.
He could sense something suspicious.
'It just doesn't add up.'
There had been an incongruity from the start.
An inexplicable unease.
It had grown sharper while tracking Tata's trail, crystallizing into clear intuition upon seeing this burning briefcase.
'Number twos betray number ones for greater gains. So what does this guy's nanny stand to gain?'
Money? Power?
The perfect top spot?
Possible in other organizations.
But not in the Seven Dragon Society.
Not just because the other clans wouldn't stand for such a revolt.
The Society's princesses—unlike dime-a-dozen royalty—were irreplaceable existences.
Beyond raw power or legitimacy, the seven princesses were the very reason the Society existed.
Even Li Chingwei, who sold off nearly half the clan's assets, lost trust and support but never faced outright rebellion for that reason.
In that light, the White Dragon Clan's betrayal was utterly baffling.
'Even if they betrayed her, what could they hope to achieve?'
'There aren't many White Dragon clansmen in this country anyway.'
'It's not like they could take her down with that kind of numbers...'
'...Unless?'
Rimon frowned.
Not deductive reasoning from solid evidence, but a vague premonition arising from assuming the worst-case scenario.
But as an old hand in the jianghu, Rimon didn't dismiss hunches.
Instead, he pulled out his smartphone to verify it, dialing a number.
“It's me.”
“I need you to check something right now.”
“Yeah, immediately. You won't say you're too busy to repay the favor I did you, right?”
“It's about...”
“...”
“...That'll do.”
After the brief call.
Rimon pocketed his phone.
After a short silence, he murmured softly.
“So that's how it is?”
“A question. I want to know what 'that' means.”
“You done already?”
“Finished ages ago.”
Aynsha approached as if she'd been waiting.
Rimon turned casually and frowned at the scene behind the white-haired girl standing tall like a rabbit doll.
“...Didn't I tell you not to kill them?”
“You did. That's why I didn't. I just beat them.”
“So leaving them like that but alive is fine by you? What impeccable logic.”
Rimon clicked his tongue.
Broken limbs, vomiting blood profusely—every one of the hundred White Dragon clansmen was half-dead, unresponsive.
Of course, subduing them all without killing a single one was impressive in itself.
But relative to the opponent.
To Rimon, who knew the seventh princess's capabilities best, it looked like she'd just torched a pile of trash because cleaning was a hassle.
Though some retribution for betrayal was probably mixed in.
“Anyway, if you're done, why stand around watching? You could've said something sooner.”
“Couldn't see well.”
“What?”
“...Nothing.”
Aynsha replied expressionlessly.
But her eyes still gazed intently at Rimon.
'Something's off.'
She could see the future as clearly as peeking at a book's later pages when facing the guards.
Why did it blur the moment she looked at him?
Aynsha tilted her head in puzzled curiosity.
Rimon eyed her suspiciously but shrugged it off and turned.
“Whatever. Good timing since it's done. I was just about to do what you wanted.”
“Understood. I'll kill them all.”
“...Not that. Something else.”
“...?”
As if beating traitors was the only thing she could want.
Aynsha cocked her head slightly.
Rimon chuckled at the sight.
Then he suddenly reached out and pulled her into his arms.
Caught so off guard she couldn't resist, Aynsha only opened her mouth belatedly, her face blank.
“Startled. Scared me. Debating whether to slap you.”
“Behave. I'm not used to this power yet—gotta stay in contact for it to work on you too.”
Aynsha blinked at the cryptic words, but Rimon offered no explanation.
He simply stepped forward lightly, holding her.
With each step, the scenery shifted.
After passing several people and places.
When he finally stopped.
Aynsha had to admit this was indeed what she wanted.
“...Princess, what on earth is that indecent appearance?”
“...Words I never wanted to hear from Tata.”
Aside from arriving in Rimon's arms before Tata, dressed with legs and face fully exposed, earning an incredulous scolding.