A strike like a flash.
The rapier Oricule brandished was the perfect embodiment of such a description.
Of course, the inherent lightness of the weapon played a part. Even so, the sheer speed of Oricule’s rapid-fire thrusts was enough to make even Rei’s eyes widen; in mere seconds, over 20 thrusts were unleashed in a continuous stream.
Granting him no time even to breathe, the blade danced through the air time and again, relentlessly attempting to skewer Rei’s body.
However, Rei was not to be outdone.
Wielding his Death Scythe—an instrument incomparably larger than the rapier—with fluid grace, he parried, and parried, and parried again.
He deflected a thrust aimed at his chest with the handle, knocked away a strike targeting his head with the giant blade, spun the handle between his palms to parry a jab at his thigh, and used the butt end part to deflect a lunge aimed at the back of his foot, which was encased in his Sleipnir's Shoes.
After engaging in an exchange that was, in the most literal sense, too fast for the naked eye to follow, Rei and Oricule eventually distanced themselves as if by mutual agreement.
"…Looking at how that weapon can clash head-on with my Death Scythe without taking a single scratch, it must be a quite high-level magic item."
"Yes, indeed. It is one of Estha Nor's works, the ancient great alchemist."
A flicker of surprise crossed Rei’s face at the mention of that name. He had never expected to encounter one of the Zephyle Clan alchemist's creations in a place like this.
However, once he heard the name, everything made sense.
(In a way, are we... fellow creators? Or something like that?)
Muttering internally, Rei leveled his Death Scythe. Estha had naturally cooperated in the creation of Beast Magic. However, since the function of manifesting weapons from the magic power that Beast Magic couldn't consume was something Takumu had incorporated, they couldn't strictly be called fellow creators.
Oricule likewise wore an expression of unexpected wariness.
His rapier possessed enough power to easily pierce through full plate mail crafted from massive amounts of magic metal if magic power was channeled through it. Yet the Rei before him had defended against it with ease—blocking every single one of the consecutive thrusts Oricule took so much pride in.
(He certainly lives up to the alias of 'Crimson'. Even without his Gryphon, he is more than strong enough.)
While they probed for openings and analyzed each other's strength, a fierce battle raged in the surroundings.
"What's wrong? Is that all you've got!?"
Vihera effortlessly sliced through a spear tip with the claws formed by magic power extending from her gauntlets, then lunged into her opponent's guard to swing a fist at his torso.
However, her fist was no ordinary one. Encased in gauntlets, claws formed by magic power extended from the back of her hands.
She drove the claws—which had just severed a spear tip—into the man's torso and performed a horizontal slash as if he were merely an obstacle in her way.
The defense offered by his robes and the leather armor beneath them was utterly worthless. Like a scrap of paper, the man collapsed to the ground, his body nearly sliced in half as his internal organs spilled out.
"What? Is this the only level of skill you have?"
She pointed the claws of her right hand toward the remaining robed figures, but the sight they had just witnessed was clearly shocking. They kept their distance, watching her warily.
In truth, the objective of those present, Oricule included, was merely to buy time.
However, such passive behavior was rapidly draining Vihera’s enthusiasm. What she desired was a fight that would make her blood boil—an exchange like the one currently occurring between Rei and Oricule, which a normal person couldn't even follow with their eyes.
(At this rate, it might have been better to play with the dolls.)
She sighed softly, muttering internally with profound dissatisfaction. After momentarily glancing toward Byune and Nakt, who were battling the dolls, she turned her eyes back to the robed group blocking her path.
These robed individuals were those working in the shadows of the Holy Light Religion, and naturally, their combat techniques were of a high standard. An individual among them was a match for a typical D-Rank adventurer, and by cooperating, several of them could fight on even terms with a C-Rank adventurer.
Yet, even for such a group, it was clear from the previous exchange that facing the combatant known as the Mad Beast was a daunting task. Ultimately, they could do nothing but avoid a direct confrontation, using their numbers to keep her in check and buy time.
"…I see. If that's how you’re going to play it, I have ideas of my own."
Vihera shot a glance toward Oricule.
The meaning was unmistakable. If they wouldn't attack her aggressively, she would ignore the robed group and interfere in Oricule's duel.
Faced with Vihera’s unspoken threat, the robed group was forced to act. Their leader, Oricule, was currently engaged with an opponent he himself had claimed he might not defeat. If the being before them—who embodied both beauty and calamity—were to join that fray, the tide of battle would turn in an instant.
From an outsider's perspective, the fight between Rei and Oricule appeared to be leaning in Oricule’s favor. However, every robed subordinate understood that the visual appearance was deceptive. It was precisely because they possessed the ability to see through such things that they had been dispatched to Exil as Oricule's subordinates.
To prevent her from interfering, they had to restrain the woman laughing defiantly before them.
Since a single person couldn't win, they coordinated with their comrades. While it was a natural choice, their coordination speed was far beyond the level of ordinary warriors.
Several people attacked simultaneously. When Vihera tried to deliver a counter-strike while evading, another man intervened, swinging a sword to catch her magical claws. The man who blocked her strike couldn't withstand the sheer weight of the blow and was blown backward, only for his comrades to catch him and minimize the damage.
They threw several daggers from her blind spot as a distraction, and while she dealt with those, another spear tip was thrust at her from a different direction.
As she faced the robed men and their organic coordinated attacks, the bored expression on Vihera’s face was replaced once again by a smile. Indeed, individually they were not that strong, but when they coordinated so flawlessly, their combat power increased exponentially.
As she dealt with each action, the excitement of battle eventually caused Vihera’s skin to flush red and her eyes to grow moist. She surrendered herself fully to the pleasure of combat.
"Nn!"
With that short sound, several needles released from Byune's hand flew toward a humanoid rabbit puppet that had leaped into the air to attack her.
"Ke-ke-ke-ke-ke."
Letting out its usual hard-to-hear laughter, the puppet swung the axe it held while still in mid-air. Although the doll was only about 30cm tall, it wielded an axe designed for an ordinary human. Nevertheless, it swung the weapon with enough force to cleave the air itself, deflecting the needles that had been thrown at it.
"Hmph!"
"WHA—!?"
However, what the puppet saw after swinging its axe was the figure of Nakt, who was bringing down a dagger right beside it. Just as the dagger tip bit into the rabbit ear and was about to pierce the head, Nakt sensed something swinging toward him and immediately leaped back.
Having jumped backward, Nakt watched as a thick, furry arm passed through the space where his head had been a moment ago.
The owner of the arm was a bear plushie.
Though it was called a plushie, its height was over 2m, making it anything but cute—especially as its arm swung around with a thunderous roar.
"There are too many of them. …Byune, are you holding up alright? Honestly, handling these things all by myself is going to be difficult."
"Nn."
Byune nodded while throwing needles at a group of dolls lunging at her with daggers.
From Nakt’s perspective, he could say with confidence that he was superior to Byune in the skills traditionally required of a thief in a dungeon—detecting and disarming traps, scout techniques, and lockpicking. However, he recognized that in the single category of pure combat technique, he was beneath her.
(Admitting my combat power is lower than a ten-year-old girl’s, huh? If Ecethesus finds out, he’ll have plenty to say about it.)
He muttered internally, though he did not let his guard down.
(No, if I think about it differently, she had to reach this level of strength by age ten… all to protect House Flaut's Residence.)
Nakt, who was well-versed in the rumors of Exil, naturally knew the current state of the Flaut family. House Flaut had lost its right to rule the city generations ago, but they had still lived peacefully, if modestly. However, for reasons unknown, Byune's parents had died, leaving the family with a massive debt.
Perhaps if she had sold the mansion then, she could have cleared the debt—or at least reduced it significantly. But Byune… a girl who was not yet even ten years old, refused to let go of the mansion where her memories of her parents remained.
A girl who was more childish than small had mastered the skills of a thief and begun challenging the dungeon solely to repay that debt. Naturally, few people were eccentric enough to include such a young child in their party. Some parties thought they could easily cheat her, and others, even worse, had plotted to sell her into slavery.
One could only say those parties were unlucky. There had been some who wanted to protect Byune until she grew up, but it had been too late; her emotions and expressions had already frozen over.
And since she conquered the dungeon alone, combat power was an absolute necessity. Eventually, she encountered Vihera, and her already high combat proficiency gained even more refinement, shaping the Byune that stood here today.
"Nn—!"
Before Nakt’s eyes, Byune reached into the pouch at her waist, pulled out more needles, and threw them at the mouse puppets scurrying across the floor toward her. Being mouse puppets, each was small, and a single needle through the torso was enough to pin them to the floor and stop their movement.
"IT HURTS IT HURTS IT HURTS IT HURTS IT HURTS IT HURTS IT HURTS!"
Ignoring the screams of the mouse puppets, she closed the distance to the bear plushie, which appeared to be the greatest threat among the dolls.
"GWAAAAAAAH! DIE."
A foreleg swung out along with a roar.
However, Byune utilized her small stature to evade the strike by crawling along the ground. She thrust a dagger into the back of the bear plushie's right hind foot, using it as an axis to forcibly kill her momentum while circling behind it.
"G-Ga?"
By the time the bear plushie noticed, it was already too late. Byune quickly climbed up from behind, pressed her dagger to its neck, and pulled with all her might.
If it had been a living creature, a massive spray of blood would have erupted. But the opponent was a doll. Even with its neck split halfway open, no blood scattered. Still, having its neck sliced open clearly dealt significant damage; the bear doll staggered and lost its balance, collapsing toward the floor.
"Nn."
Byune, who had been clinging to the back of the neck, muttered softly and leaped by kicking off the bear's body with all her strength to avoid being caught in the fall.
The answer to why she had kicked the bear's body so forcefully was held in Byune's hand as she landed. Within her grasp was the bear head that had been sliced halfway through just seconds ago. Using the momentum of her leap, she had forcibly torn off the head that was already hanging by a thread.
"MURDERER! HOW DARE YOU DO THAT TO OUR COMRADE!"
One of the dolls screamed in accusation, and the other dolls joined in as if with one voice.
"MURDERER, MURDERER!"
"Nn."
Ignoring them, Byune threw the bear head onto the floor and began walking toward the remaining dolls once again. As if to guard her back, Nakt followed close behind.
Rei, seemingly being pressed by Oricule. Vihera, enjoying the organic coordinated attacks of the robed group from the shadows of the Holy Light Religion. Byune and Nakt, fighting the group of dolls on nearly even terms.
The battle, differing for each of the three groups, was essentially unfolding as a stalemate on all fronts.