Infused with magic power, the blade lashed out like a whip, snaring the knight's sword and wrenching it from his grip. In the next instant, the knight realized his weapon had vanished from his hand before he could even process the movement. By then, the blade—which only a moment ago had been as flexible as a lash—had returned to the form of a rigid longsword, its tip pressed firmly against his throat.
"……Ugh, y-you……"
"What is it? Do you still wish to continue? If so, I am more than willing to remain your opponent."
"I... I... concede……"
The knight squeezed the words out through clenched teeth, his voice thick with reluctance. Simultaneously, a thunderous cheer erupted from the surrounding knights and soldiers who had been spectating the match.
Hearing the roar of the crowd, the knight’s face—otherwise handsome and well-composed—flushed a deep crimson. He had been toyed with and humiliated before a massive audience. He tried to glare at the woman who had brought him such shame, but he found himself utterly overwhelmed by her sheer presence. Instinctively, he dropped his gaze to the dirt.
(This is it. ……What on earth happened to her? I’ve always known her beauty was refined enough that it wouldn't be strange for her to stand at my side. But this is more than just looks. There is an inexplicable aura about her…… her very existence is on a different level…… No, that’s impossible! I cannot allow myself to be intimidated! Not even by the Princess General!)
The man shouted at himself internally to bolster his courage. He forced his eyes back up toward her face—and in the next moment, the sheer pressure of her atmosphere crushed his resolve. His legs turned to jelly, and he collapsed onto his backside, unable to even remain standing under her gaze.
"Then, from this moment forward, you will defer to the judgment of the Kerebel Knight Order rather than your own. Are we clear?"
"……Yes."
The voice that left the man's mouth was hollow, his pride utterly shattered. There was no trace left of the arrogant nobleman who had swaggered onto the field before the match.
"Elena-sama, well done."
Ara stepped forward and offered her a towel. The match had ended with a single strike before their swords could even properly clash; Elena wasn't even winded, let alone sweating.
"Umu. With this, there should be no further friction caused by his ego."
"Kyu!"
The small dragon Iero glided down from the sky and landed gracefully on Elena’s shoulder with a sharp cry.
Ara watched the familiar with a smile, but her expression soured as she looked over at the man still huddled on the ground a short distance away.
With the war against the Bestia Empire looming in the coming spring, the knight orders belonging to various houses in the Noble's Faction had gathered within Duke Kerebel's Territory. They were currently engaged in grueling joint training to sharpen their readiness.
Naturally, as the number of knight orders increased, so did the number of people who tried to use their social standing as a shield for their arrogance. It was an inevitable byproduct of the Noble's Faction, but Elena was not the type to let such behavior slide. One of the menial workers for the Kerebel Knight Order had been cornered by this knight, who had drawn his sword simply because the worker had been in his way. When Elena stepped in, the man—the Marquis's Heir and the commander of his own knight order—refused to back down.
In truth, the Marquis's Heir had orchestrated the entire confrontation. Enamored by Elena’s legendary beauty, he had schemed to win her hand. He had challenged her to a duel: if he won, she would become his wife; if he lost, he would swear absolute obedience to the Kerebel Knight Order. Elena had accepted without hesitation and then crushed him effortlessly without a single exchange of blows.
"How... why would I……"
The man continued to mutter to the ground, still unable to stand.
In fairness to him, he did have the skill to back up his title of commander, even accounting for his father’s influence. He was arguably the strongest warrior in the Marquis's Knight Order. However, in this instance, he had simply picked the wrong opponent.
Elena Kerebel had long been known as the Princess General, but since completing the Ritual of Inheritance and receiving the Ancient Dragon's Power, her strength had reached a point where even first-rate knights were mere rabble to her.
She possessed the physical ability and magic power of an Ancient Dragon. While she had yet to master the full extent of this power, her natural skill combined with the inheritance made her a being of peerless strength. Furthermore, she had even begun to learn Dragon Language Magic—a feat normally reserved for high-intelligence dragons.
"Your skill is not lacking. I was simply superior," Elena said, her voice steady. "The moniker of Princess General is not one I ever sought, but I will not allow it to be brought low in a place like this."
"……Ugh."
Unable to even find the words to respond, the man scrambled up and fled the training ground without looking back.
Watching him go, Elena let out a soft sigh and shook her head.
(We must bolster the strength of the Noble's Faction if we are to survive next spring. But is this truly enough? This war will be on a scale unlike anything we’ve seen. The Bestia Empire has its Beast Soldiers. To think we are still dealing with such petty squabbles…… No, I am the Princess General, the symbol of the Noble's Faction. I cannot afford to be faint-hearted. It was for this very reason that I underwent the ritual and claimed the Ancient Dragon's power.)
"Elena-sama? Is something the matter?"
"No, it is nothing."
Elena gave a small shake of her head to her long-time friend. It was precisely because Ara was so close to her that there were certain vulnerabilities Elena felt she had to hide.
(Rei……)
In moments like these, the face of the boy with the crimson hair always appeared in her mind. Just thinking of him sent a surge of warmth through her chest.
Through reports from the territory and Rei’s own letters, she knew the hand of the Bestia Empire had reached toward the City of Gilm several times. A part of her desperately wanted to rush to Gilm immediately, but her current responsibilities made that impossible.
"Elena-sama, you have a mock battle with the knight order in one hour. Would you like to rest until then?" Ara asked, her eyes searching Elena’s face with concern.
Elena declined with a small gesture and began to walk.
"No. We have very little time left before the opening of hostilities. I want as many of our people as possible to return home alive. Since the only thing I can do is teach them how to survive a war, I must use every moment I have."
"But Elena-sama, if you collapse from exhaustion, it won't matter how well-trained the others are!"
Elena felt the weight of Ara’s worry and allowed a small smile to touch her lips. She glanced back, her golden hair shimmering in the light.
"Do not worry. Who do you think I am? Of all people, you know exactly what happened in that dungeon…… and exactly what kind of power I now carry."
She kept her words vague for the sake of any eavesdroppers, but her meaning was clear. The details of the Ritual of Inheritance were a secret known only to the highest echelons of the Noble's Faction—and to Margrave Larkus, the central figure of the Neutral Faction.
However, Ara did not back down. "I know that Elena-sama’s power is incomparably greater than it used to be. But that is only your physical strength. Your heart is the same as it has always been. If you keep yourself wound this tight, the strain will take its toll. Even if your body doesn't break, your spirit might."
"……"
Elena went silent. Ara was right. Between training her own Escort Knight Order, acting as a sparring partner for the Kerebel knights, honing her own new powers, and teaching the other noble orders, she was stretched thin. Dealing with the constant advances of men like the Marquis's Heir only added to the burden.
Physically, she was fine, but mental fatigue was a persistent shadow.
Of course, there were those who were foolish enough to try and sneak into her chambers at night. Such men usually met a grizzly end as outlets for Elena’s bottled-up stress. As the only daughter of Duke Kerebel, any attempt to force themselves upon her resulted in their families owing the Duke a political debt they could never hope to repay—if they survived at all.
"……Very well. I suppose I could do with some tea. Ara, have some tea and sweets brought to my room."
Yielding to Ara’s stubborn gaze, Elena spoke with a soft, appreciative smile.
"Yes! I'll have them brought up immediately!"
Beaming with joy, Ara slung her magic item, the Power Axe, onto her back and hurried out of the training ground. Elena followed at a more leisurely pace.
Dozens of gazes followed her retreating figure. Some knights were simply mesmerized by her beauty; others were recalculating how to win her hand; some watched her with base lust; and many looked on with a reverence bordering on worship after witnessing her overwhelming martial skill. Every one of them, in their own way, had been captivated by the War Maiden.
In a certain town in the Kingdom of Mireana, the people walked the streets without the need for heavy coats, despite the winter season. Most wore thin, long-sleeved shirts, as the southern port town enjoyed a warm climate all year round.
A man and woman walked through the marketplace, snacking on grilled fish skewers. The man carried a giant battle axe on his back, while the woman wore a robe and carried a staff. They were clearly a warrior and a mage—an adventurer pairing.
"Man, coming south before the real winter hit was definitely the right move. I bet the City of Gilm is buried in snow by now."
"Most likely. Honestly, I wouldn't have minded staying. It would have been a good chance to catch up on my spellbooks in peace."
"Yeah, but then Rhodos and I would have gotten soft. Rhodos finally reached Rank C; it’d be a waste to let that momentum stall."
The man bit the head off a thirty-centimeter fish skewer, crunching through it with ease. This was Elk, the leader of the Axe of the Thunder God, one of Gilm's most famous adventurers. The robed woman was his wife, Min, who effectively managed the party’s affairs.
Trailing behind them, buried under a mountain of luggage, was their son, Rhodos.
"Father, Mother, can we slow down a bit? I can barely see over all this stuff."
"……Hah, fine. Give me some of that. I'll carry half. Besides, you’re the one who volunteered to be the porter, remember? You really need to work on your conditioning."
Elk reached back and took half of the bags from Rhodos.
"I-I can't help it! I don't have your monstrous strength, Father. My style is built around speed!"
"Maybe, but look at Rei. He’s a speed-focused fighter too, and he’s incredibly strong. Honestly, he might even have more raw power than I do……"
"Don't compare me to an outlier like him!" Rhodos shouted, thinking back to the time they had all worked on a subjugation request together.
Suddenly, Elk stopped and scanned the crowd. Min did the same, her hand tightening around her staff for a moment before she forced herself to relax.
"Did you feel that?"
"Yeah. If both of us noticed it, it wasn't our imagination. Maybe some high-rank adventurer was just surprised by Rhodos’s shouting and took a look."
"I hope so," Min said, shaking her head as the sensation vanished.
This was supposed to be a vacation. She decided to focus on enjoying herself, but both she and Elk would later come to deeply regret that decision once they realized the true nature of the gaze that had found them.