Jealousy-Tinged Mind Games (2)
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Right now, Alonne was in serious trouble.
She already had a headache from that sly high elf fox circling her master. And to make matters worse, an unexpected variable crashed into her life.
"I'm assigning group projects. Pair up with a friend, prepare, and give a presentation. This will count toward your grades, so don't skip it."
Group project...! Alonne swallowed hard. She felt like bursting into tears.
Of all classes, why did history have to drop a group project? Wearing a stunned expression, Alonne shot a desperate glance at Yushin, who was watching from afar.
That morning, she'd fought with him. She'd raised her voice, insisting she could never accept Leticia. She'd been so hostile on the way to the academy, making her displeasure obvious.
But this was an emergency. She needed her master's help right now, shame be damned.
"Master! Master...!"
From the back row, Alonne called out to him desperately. Yushin approached, and she cupped her hand over her mouth to whisper.
"It's a crisis! Group project!"
"Knew it. Don't worry—I may not look it, but I've got plenty of loner experience. Leave it to me."
"You're the best, Master!"
Yushin raised his hand. The history teacher asked,
"Something wrong, attendant?"
The instructor teaching the students history was a haughty beauty in glasses. Her blonde hair tied in a ponytail, she eyed Yushin carefully—he'd interrupted just as she was wrapping up.
The attendant from the Valencia family who'd beaten all seventeen servants into the ground. A human with skills worthy of besting Captain Ardena. Ever since that day, she'd taken an interest in Yushin Gilliard, even spritzing on perfume she usually ignored.
"Wouldn't grouping close friends create issues with fairness and equity?"
"Hm. That's a valid point."
The teacher nodded, convinced by his logic.
"Then I'll assign groups randomly myself."
That seemed like the best option. Alonne nodded at the teacher's words.
Group project and presentation—still a nightmare, but better than before. At least she wouldn't be stuck scrambling for a partner and drawing side-eyes.
"I'm quitting the group right now."
"You think anyone wants to be grouped with you?"
Alonne grabbed her bag. Leticia wrinkled her nose and muttered.
Of all people. Enemies at each other's throats, forced together.
Alonne and Leticia exchanged sour glares.
The teacher knew these two couldn't stand each other... What a twisted sense of humor.
"I can't do it. You handle everything."
"That was the plan anyway. I don't have time to waste on a slacker who skips class."
"R-Really?"
"Of course, I'll leave your name off the presentation."
"That's cheating!"
"Expecting results without effort—classic you, relying on talent and throwing tantrums."
"What did you say?!"
Alonne exploded. Leticia fired back coldly, turning the atmosphere to complete shit.
Wallace said,
"Valua Kingdom is sending a delegation."
"A delegation?"
Ardena asked at her father's words.
Valua Kingdom and Liberia Elf Kingdom saw each other as blood enemies. They'd never exchanged envoys or even allowed foreign diplomats—not once.
Liberia treated humans as mere slaves. Valua viewed elves as worse than demons, vile hybrids.
"No way we'd accept..."
"The Yetzirah Council naturally opposed letting Valua's delegation cross the border. Negotiating equally with slave humans? Unthinkable."
"Yet something changed."
"As you know, the Demon King Army's mobilizing big-time along the southern coast. In exchange for Valua's intel on them, we're allowing the delegation inside."
Liberia and Valua were sworn foes. But they shared a common enemy: the Demon King Army of devils and monsters. A massive force spanning the eastern continent and southern lands—the primary foe for both humans and elves.
The elves had realized one nation's power alone couldn't defeat them. Some now called for alliances with others.
"The High Priestess planned this."
"The High Priestess..."
"The last war cost many kin. The southern peninsula still crawls with monsters. It's natural she'd think that way."
Wallace sighed. Ardena turned to gaze out the window.
The castle courtyard. In the training grounds, Alonne swung her sword. Her instructor, Yushin, half-watched while lounging idly on the grass.
"It's not the time to fight humans... That's what she must think."
Ardena's deep green eyes slowly shifted to Yushin.
What was she thinking? Even father Wallace couldn't tell.
Ardena was among the strongest of the twelve warrior captains. The elf heroine with an undefeated legend. The noble high elf had the people's love and support.
Thus, she bore the weight of every decision.
"I'm not fond of humans. I could never be. I hate the ones who stole my precious master. I hate them so much I can't stand it."
But... the Ardena who'd raged against humans muttered softly.
Not like her usual icy demeanor, unmelting as eternal snow. She never showed emotion. Always calm, cool, upholding her nobility—that might be why she existed as she did.
"The delegation might be here to take that human back."
"Yes, most likely."
"The Council will respect your will. You bought that slave in Pamplona. The choice of his fate is yours."
No state could interfere in master-slave bonds. Elves had the absolute right to command slaves—high elves especially, even against national orders.
"I won't hand him over."
Ardena declared. Her father nodded, respecting her decision. Even if the Council commanded, House Valencia would veto it.
Valua Kingdom's north was under Rocksfield Earldom's watch.
Barbarians swarmed in. Everyone knew the Demon King Army backed them—they wielded devil-taught curses as proof.
"Grak!"
"Damn bitch!"
The barbarian warriors bellowed. But the knightess who'd slain over a hundred showed no mercy. No pity, no quarter. Just kill.
She stole lives, ravaged bodies. Covered head to toe in gore, she crushed skulls with her mace, shattered spines with her halberd, then thrust her longsword to rip out a barbarian's guts, ending him.
"Not enough..."
Her eyes flashed. The sharp golden gaze from her helmet wasn't human.
Kingdom knights on the northern front called her Mad Dog. Rocksfield, breeders of the royal hounds, had birthed an uncontrollable beast, they said.
The public dubbed her Rocksfield's Blue Lion, but those who knew called her Mad Dog.
-Groooaaarrr!!!
Amid tens of thousands clashing, a monstrous aberration appeared.
Over five meters tall. Thick helmet, massive jawbone. Human torso, goat legs—a colossal fiend gripping a sharp polearm like a man.
"Go, Aster!!"
"Slaughter every last kingdom dog!"
The barbarians crossing the border cheered wildly, trusting in something.
Demon King Army spawn for sure. The five-meter brute wore forged plate armor—unnatural for a beast.
"Kraaak!!"
"What the hell is that thing?! Where'd it come from?!"
Aster swung its polearm, flinging knights skyward. They scattered like leaves. The kingdom side, hunting barbarians mercilessly, suddenly faltered.
Mana Blade bounced off its armor. Even slashes barely dented its thick hide. Knights fell like ants under an elephant's foot.
"Lady Allen, knights are dropping to that monster! We must reinforce!"
Her adjutant yelled. But the knightess didn't budge, as if it wasn't her problem.
He realized his mistake. This woman was ice-cold—troops dying, victory or defeat, she didn't care.
Desperate, he played his last card.
"Felling that brute will make headlines to Sir Gilliard! He'll be thrilled—his fiancée claiming the north's greatest feat!"
"I-Is that... so?"
"Of course! You'll get a hero's welcome back in the capital!"
Simple flattery. But she bought it, gripping her bastard sword and charging.
Meanwhile, kingdom knights fled the fiend's rampage. But Rocksfield's knightess shoved them aside, advancing.
-Groooaaar!!!
Aster reacted to the approaching knightess. No fleeing coward—this one had fight.
It'd crushed a knight like trash, dropping the corpse. Gripping its polearm two-handed, it braced.
"Die now! Right now! For him!!"
Allen leaped, striking before Aster could react. A headbutt—ramming her helmet into its face.
Craaaack!!!
Both helmets shattered. Amid falling shards, the knightess claimed victory. Aster reeled, off-balance like it'd taken a metal club to the skull. Concussed, legs buckling.
-Grooooh!
She kicked its chest, toppling the giant. Raised her sharp blade. Two-handed bastard sword slammed down, piercing its neck.
No mercy—she twisted the hilt, shredding relentlessly. The fiend spewed blood, shrieking in agony. Pure ecstasy slaughtering the god-like butcher.
Half-shattered helmet off, she bared teeth, reveling in the kill.
"Die! Die! Die! Die! Die!!"
A smile curled her lips. Covered in hot gore, grinning savagely—utterly unhinged. Knights and barbarians alike backed away instinctively.
Despite her stunning beauty, no one approached.
Unlucky for the fiend—half-decapitated, yet alive. Its despairing eyes begged for death. She denied it.
Bastard sword lodged in its throat, she drew her hip longsword, hacking its massive flesh to bits.
"Ahh..."
The fiend died. Seeing its cooling eyes, she looked enraptured. Hot blood-slick hand stroked her flushed, kill-drunk face.
The border-raiding barbarians were routed. Time to return to the capital.
Reunite with her fiancé there. The joy and anticipation made her tremble uncontrollably.
"I killed for you. Slaughtered the enemies blocking our path. Now I can come back. Yes? I killed them. As brutally as possible. Wait for me, my fiancé. Yushin Gilliard. Your loving fiancée is coming to your side."
The knightess was Allen Rocksfield. Rocksfield's Mad Dog, holder of the Kingdom's Seven Swords' second seat.
Love and murderous intent. A paper-thin line between them.
Anyone blocking my love dies. Brutally, to prove it. For you, I'll stack corpse mountains, drown seas in blood.
Anything.