Ais stood frozen in place, her long blonde hair fluttering slightly in the wake of an invisible gale.
She watched that solitary, slender figure—like a pebble cast into a giant wave—charging without hesitation toward the knight radiating a golden, sovereign pressure.
Her mind was a total blank.
Power suppressed, magic sealed, and before her stood a terrifying enemy that defied all common sense of the Dungeon. For any rational adventurer, the only choice in this moment was to flee.
But Lynn didn't.
On his face, the emotion known as excitement was practically overflowing.
CLANG—!
A deafening metallic collision tore through the silence of the plains.
The Tree Sentinel didn't even accelerate. The moment Lynn entered its threat range, the warhorse performed a nimble sidestep, and that golden halberd—larger than Lynn himself—swept out with a whistle that tore the air.
It was irrationally fast.
Lynn's pupils constricted. He used an incredibly awkward posture to forcibly halt his forward momentum, his heels gouging two deep furrows into the grass. He didn't retreat; instead, he dropped his body even lower, practically hugging the dirt as he rolled toward the inside of the horse's legs.
The gale from the halberd grazed his scalp, sending his bangs flying in a chaotic mess.
That was close! Lynn cursed inwardly.
The attack pattern was wrong! In the Lands Between, the wind-up for this specific move was half a beat slower, and the trajectory was more horizontal. But that strike just now carried a subtle downward angle, cutting off the jumping evasion route he had originally planned.
A move variation?
The thought had barely flashed through his mind when an even stronger sense of crisis descended from above. The warhorse reared up on its hind legs, its massive hooves coming down with the force of a falling mountain!
Lynn didn't have time to stand up. He could only roll frantically to the side.
BOOM!
The ground cracked, sending dirt and grass flying in every direction. A small crater appeared exactly where he had been a second ago.
"Holy crap, this horse has a War Stomp too?" Lynn performed a kippers-jump to get back on his feet and opened the distance, the earlier ease on his face completely gone.
This was no longer the Tree Sentinel he was familiar with. It was faster, its combos were more fluid, and it even had moves he had never heard of. This was a brand-new monster; he had to focus with every fiber of his being.
From the distance, Ais watched with her heart in her throat.
In a mere ten seconds of engagement, Lynn had brushed against death multiple times. Every swing of that golden halberd carried a weight that made even her, a Level 6, feel a sense of dread.
From her perspective, Lynn's movements were already perfected to the extreme. Every dodge looked as if it had been measured with a ruler—not a millimeter too far, not a millisecond too late. Yet even so, he was being suppressed to the point where he couldn't even land a counter-hit.
The Tree Sentinel wheeled its horse around, giving him no room to breathe before launching another charge.
This time, Lynn didn't try to meet it head-on. He began moving at high speed around the sentinel like a tireless hound, constantly probing for an opening. The halberd hacked, swept, and lunged, each strike kicking up wind and leaving the ground riddled with pits. Lynn's silhouette flickered through the gaps of this storm of death, the blade of the Bloodhound's Fang occasionally scraping against the knight's armor, throwing off clusters of insignificant sparks.
He was testing. He was learning. He was etching every single movement of this new opponent into his brain.
Ais held her breath. Suddenly, she realized something incredible.
Lynn... was getting stronger.
At the start, his dodges carried a hint of strain and desperation. But as the fight continued, his movements became increasingly fluid and composed. He seemed to be predicting the exact landing point of the halberd, always executing his dodges at the absolute limit with the smallest possible range of motion.
He even began to counter-attack.
Catching the recovery frames of the Tree Sentinel's heavy overhead slam, Lynn's figure blurred into a shadow.
[Bloodhound's Step]!
He flashed instantly to the rear-flank of the horse. The Bloodhound's Fang swept upward, carving a blood-red arc that struck accurately into the gap of the knight's plate armor.
Cling!
A crisp sound echoed, and the knight's frame swayed slightly. Though the damage was microscopic, it was the first effective hit landed since the start of the battle!
However, before Lynn could follow up, a massive force struck from the side. It was the golden greatshield in the Tree Sentinel's other hand, swinging back in a completely illogical arc to bash him!
A Shield Bash?!
Lynn's reactions were pushed to the limit. He instinctively raised his small buckler to parry.
CRACK!
An irresistible force surged through him. The small buckler shattered on impact. Lynn was sent flying like a kite with a broken string, tumbling a dozen times across the grass before coming to a stop.
A sweetness rose in his throat, and a trickle of blood leaked from the corner of his mouth.
"Cough... hack... That's not fair... Since when could you shield-parry back?" Lynn struggled to his feet, feeling as though his internal organs had all shifted out of place. That one hit had nearly sent him back to the Site of Grace.
But Ais saw it.
In the moment he was sent flying, there wasn't a trace of fear or frustration in Lynn's eyes. Burning within them was an even more intense flame. It was the look of a child who had found a new toy, an explorer who had discovered a new continent—it was an absolute, pure desire for the challenge itself.
In that moment, an epiphany struck Ais.
She... understood.
She understood why this Level 1 rookie possessed such incomprehensible combat techniques.
The bottleneck of her power wasn't because her strength was insufficient; it was because of her heart. It had been too long since she had experienced a battle like this—one where she had to give everything, squeezing out every last drop of potential just to survive.
Her battles had become a routine of crushing enemies with her level and equipment—a series of "obvious" victories. She had lost the opportunity to forge herself between the thin line of life and death.
And Lynn... he was proactively seeking out this suffering.
Was this the teaching of his God, Hidetaka Miyazaki?
"Using death as a whetstone to forge the soul of the believer..."
Ais's gaze changed. In those golden eyes, the confusion and daze were swept away, replaced by an unprecedented clarity and fervor.
She would no longer just watch.
Schwing!
The slender blade slid from its scabbard, emitting a clear, ringing cry like that of a dragon.
"I will join this trial as well."
Her voice wasn't loud, but it was exceptionally firm.
Lynn, who had just downed a swig of his Flask of Crimson Tears, nearly choked. He looked back to see Ais gripping her sword, walking toward the battlefield with steady, resolute strides.
The aura around her had shifted. She was no longer the high-and-mighty "Sword Princess," but a Tarnished just like him, preparing to challenge the impossible.
"Hey! You're only Level 1 right now! Are you trying to get yourself killed?" Lynn shouted instinctively.
He had no way of knowing if Ais would be able to respawn at the Site of Grace like he could!
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