Chapter 73 : Rescue(3)

Invidia’s hand swallowed my vision, and when I opened my eyes, I found myself in a white space where nothing existed. Unlike Daengdaengi’s mental world, which was pitch black, Invidia’s inner world was stark white—a striking contrast.

“…Invidia? Luna?”

I called out to them and looked around, but the only response was the echo of my own voice.

[Draw your sword, Saya.]

“…!”

Invidia’s voice startled me, but soon after, I noticed something strange about my own appearance. My hair, which should have been long, was now a bob that reached my shoulders, and my clothes had reverted to the outfit I wore during my days with the Black Dog Bandits.

Bewildered by this incomprehensible situation, I began to hear the sound of footsteps approaching from a distance. The figure, accompanied by the clatter of armor, emerged through the fog and drew closer.

“…Luna? Is that you, Luna?”

The heavily armed woman had discarded her familiar shield and was advancing toward me, a saber in each hand. Just as I recognized her as Luna and my face brightened—

“…?”

My vision turned crimson, then spun and gradually sank.

What she had sliced in front of my eyes was my own head.

“…Ghk…!”

[I told you to draw your sword.]

The moment my severed head hit the ground, my vision went black, and I opened my eyes again.

I found myself back in the white space, frantically groping my neck to confirm my head was still attached. Fortunately, it was.

“That’s strange, Luna…!”

No matter how much I had entered this place to fight, the Luna I’d just seen was like an emotionless doll.

[That woman requested it herself. She said emotions would distract her from the fight and asked me to strip them away for a while.]

“What…?”

[Additionally, I’ve reverted your body to its past condition. You can’t use my power, and you haven’t even learned magic yet.]

“…Unnecessarily thorough…”

[She’s coming again. Prepare yourself.]

Tread. Tread.

The sound of Luna’s footsteps echoed.

“Wait, what am I supposed to do with just daggers…?”

The only weapons I had were two daggers forged from the melted remains of Windgart’s longsword in the past. Meanwhile, Luna was clad in full armor, wielding two sabers—weapons far longer than my daggers. The disadvantage was glaringly obvious.

[Don’t look to me for help. Maintaining this space is taxing enough as it is. Well then…]

“Hey, Invidia…!”

With that, he fell silent.

“…It’s a terrifying aura.”

I’d never felt it when Luna was my companion, but facing her now, blades drawn, I realized how formidable an opponent Luna, the knight, truly was. As she closed the distance, I watched her movements carefully, determined not to lose my head again.

“Right…!”

I dodged the sword swinging from her right, focusing on the blade in her other hand. I was certain she’d follow up with an attack from that side. But instead of a sword, it was Luna’s hand that came at me.

“Her hand…!?”

Against my expectations, Luna had dropped one saber and seized my hair with her free hand, hoisting me up. Her training had made her strong enough to lift a woman of my height with ease using just one arm.

I stabbed my dagger into her wrist to break free, but it was useless against the hard metal gauntlet protecting her hand. Following my futile resistance, her blade came next, piercing my abdomen.

“…Ugh…!”

When I opened my eyes again, the white space greeted me once more.

“This is no joke…”

The pointless cycle of fighting repeated itself. I tried throwing my daggers from a distance and aiming for her back, but each time, I ended up back here.

“…If only I had Sarkas’ arms, or at least basic magic…”

As I clashed with Luna, I realized how much I’d relied on Invidia’s and Osteon’s power. I’d taken for granted that Invidia’s thoughts would predict my opponent’s moves, and I’d assumed armor could be easily pierced with magic.

But that was Daengdaengi’s and Invidia’s power—not mine, Saya Barnaba’s.

Tread. Tread.

Luna Grace approached again, her terrifying presence undiminished even after multiple encounters. She held a saber in each hand, her strength lying in her power and speed. The overwhelming difference in physical ability, honed to its peak, was palpable. The gap in reach between my daggers and her sabers wasn’t something I could easily overcome.

“A dagger isn’t a weapon for a head-on fight…”

Daggers were designed for portability and agility—perfect for ambushes and surprise attacks, not for facing a skilled knight wielding a proper one-handed sword head-on. That’s why I’d gradually relied less on them after gaining my Sarkas arms.

“Come on…!”

Even if my body reset after each death, the pain of being cut was all too real. If this kept up, my mind might break. As Luna closed in, another direct confrontation began.

For a fleeting moment, I recalled a memory tied to the dagger, drifting back to the past.

“Why a dagger, of all the weapons?”

It was during my time with the Black Dog Bandits. I’d asked Captain Baekmyo with a puzzled look when she handed me the dagger, forged from the remains of Luares’ longsword.

“Oh, this? I broke it in half while sharpening the blade.”

“…”

When I shot her a dissatisfied glare, she burst into hearty laughter.

“…That was a joke. We’re beastmen. We don’t usually use weapons like that.”

Beastmen had their natural weapons—claws—convenient and ever-present.

“This is your claw, Saya.”

“…What?”

When I questioned her strange phrasing, she laughed again and explained.

“It’s not just a weapon—I gave you a claw. Even if it’s not part of your body, it’s undeniably yours.”

“Claw…”

Back then, I didn’t fully grasp her words.

Later, Heukgyeon told me that gifting a claw meant Baekmyo had truly recognized me as one of the beastmen—a warrior worthy of standing as her equal in battle.

I refocused on my fight with Luna.

“It’s not a weapon—it’s my claw…”

The black dagger reflected my face. With this blade, I’d cut down countless foes—even Baekmyo, who’d forged it.

Gripping the daggers in a reverse hold with both hands, I lowered my stance. Perhaps sensing a shift in my usual demeanor, Luna paused, refraining from her usual reckless charge. When your presence is fully exposed and a frontal clash is inevitable, the dagger’s fighting style revolves around hit-and-run tactics: using swift movements to chip away at the opponent’s armor, creating an opening, and then striking a decisive blow.

“…!”

I lunged forward, closing the distance to Luna’s body. Through our repeated clashes, I’d noticed something about knights—they had habits. They assumed their opponent would fight with a weapon, so their attacks focused on disabling either the foe or their weapon. Clad in heavy armor, their movements were deliberate, prioritizing reliable subjugation over deflecting minor strikes.

My only chance lay in the chainmail between her heavy armor plates. Chainmail excels at blocking slashes but tears easily under a dagger’s thrust. I targeted her right shoulder relentlessly.

“…Kuh!”

For the first time, my attack pierced the gap in her shoulder, and Luna let out a short groan, her face twisting in pain. But the cost was steep—I lost one of my two daggers, as it remained lodged in her flesh. It had sunk deep, rendering her right arm useless. Luna yanked the dagger out with her teeth, tossing it far away, and charged at me again with her remaining hand.

Her heavy armor wasn’t just for protection—it added weight to her strikes. I learned that the hard way when her elbow, reinforced with a metal guard, slammed into me.

“Aagh…!”

The blow crushed my wrist, forcing me to drop my remaining dagger. I threw myself forward, snatching it up with my uninjured hand, but now both of us were down to one weapon.

“…Damn, the handle…”

The dagger’s durability was nearing its limit. The blade, battered against her armor, wobbled where it met the handle. Though the blade itself held firm due to its hardness, the softer handle was losing its grip.

“Two more hits… no, one?”

From the feel of it, one more solid impact would likely snap the blade free.

“…”

Luna, her injured shoulder trembling, advanced with an even more menacing aura. Unlike me, gripped by fear, she showed no hesitation—her emotions completely stripped away.

With a beast-like roar, I charged, digging my feet into the ground and aiming for her neck. My dagger hand shot forward, only to be intercepted by Luna’s saber. Her blade pierced more than halfway through my wrist, sending a jolt of searing pain through me.

“…!”

But Luna’s eyes widened as she looked at the wrist she’d just struck. She realized it wasn’t my good wrist she’d hit—it was the already broken, dangling one. She moved to shove me back, but I was a fraction faster.

With my remaining hand, I gripped the blade of my dagger and yanked it free from its failing handle, thrusting it toward Luna’s neck. The blade had already been loosened by repeated impacts, making this possible. I grimaced at the sharp pain of grasping the bare blade, but there was no time to dwell on it—this was my one shot.

“This is my claw, Luna…!”

Thud.

The blade sank heavily into her flesh.

“…”

But it wasn’t her neck I’d pierced—it was her hand.

Sensing the lethal threat, she’d instinctively dropped her weapon and sacrificed her hand to block the strike aimed at her throat.

“…Ha.”

The situation was clear. Given our physical disparity, Luna held the overwhelming advantage. If I closed in without a weapon for a bare-handed brawl, she’d crush me effortlessly.

Fortunately, that didn’t happen.

“…?”

The dagger blade in my hand began to emit a jet-black darkness, swallowing the surrounding light.

[It has begun.]

The blade morphed, growing larger as it fused with my hand, connecting to Sarkas tissue to form a massive sword. With its momentum, the tip grazed Luna’s helmet—just a slight touch—and the seemingly indestructible headpiece shattered, clattering to the ground.

[That is your Unification, Saya.]

With the transformed blade now part of me, I locked eyes with Luna, her gaze sparkling beneath the broken helm.

The Armonia Academy Cathedral.

In that sacred place, steeped in history since the academy’s founding, two Spirit Masters—Violet and Yuri—stood together.

Bathed in the colorful light streaming through the stained glass, Violet spoke to Yuri.

“…The time has come.”

Yuri understood his meaning instantly.

“Freesia, I will pass everything on to you.”

“…But, Violet, right now, with the situation—”

She knew he’d soon hand over the commander’s role to her, but she hadn’t expected it during this national crisis.

“You said you encountered a woman wielding Sarkas’ power, Freesia.”

Yuri had crossed paths with that woman twice, but both times, she’d slipped away.

“I will grant you power—power to deal with her decisively.”

“What? Power, you say…?”

“Come closer.”

As Yuri approached, she joined Violet in gazing at the window, its light pouring over them.

“For too long, the empire knew only chaos and disorder. Humans struggled in poverty, tearing at each other, while Sarkas threatened their homes and shattered order.”

Closing his eyes, Violet tilted his head upward and continued.

“But now, the chaos ends. With the power you and I wield, we will bring eternal peace and order to the empire—and beyond, to the world.”

“…Violet?”

Yuri felt a chill as he turned to face her.

“Your eyes…”

His eyes, now pitch black, bore into her with an intense stare.

“I love you, Freesia.”

Sensing an unnatural air, Yuri started to step back, but Violet seized her chin firmly and lifted it.

“Vi—Violet…!?”

“There is no one stronger than you in this empire now, Freesia. That’s why we love you so fiercely—or rather, your body…!”

As she stared into his black eyes, now glowing red, Yuri felt her will to resist draining away, her body drawn toward him. Violet’s mouth, stretched unnaturally wide, descended over hers, forced open by his grip.

“Give us that body… that lovely, intense body…!”