Gertrude was dumbfounded, watching helplessly the duel between two different types of fighters. Clementine, the athletic but delicate looking blonde girl relied on bursts of speed and changing acceleration. Contrary to the gifted girl, her opponent, Kant remained stationary; parrying and counter-attacking at one position. He tried to lock blades with the agile girl but she backed away every time he did that. 

Gertrude's ally, knew that she would be overcome in the battle of raw strength and physical size.

Nevertheless, Gertrude understood that although she had a bigger body and strength than Clementine, she would definitely not be a match against the man.

Meanwhile, Kant's breath was faint.

He had already exchanged over 30 decisive blows with the enemy before him, each and every one of which was only possible due to his rigorous training.

He checked his body’s condition.

Although he could see her fast unpredictable movement, his body was too slow to catch up with her. His only option was to wait at one spot. 

His only saving grace was that he could not feel the exhaustion due to his extreme focus. Kant himself believed that, though he did so with derision.

He’d already concluded earlier that simply having more stamina wouldn’t allow him victory over this gifted young woman.

Although he always believed hard work beats talent, he was clearly seeing a tall wall called talent that separated the two of them.

There was no going against it. It was both the blessing of three gods, the god of time, and a hateful curse.

Clementine, however, had the ability to smirk during the duel. If she fought using her abilities from two years ago, that man would defeat her in no time. That indicated how strong her current foe was. After she fought together and had various adventures with her lover, Hiro, her instinct and stamina had improved by leaps and bounds.

Gertrude, however, felt that the old noble they killed back in Torun was a lot more skilled and talented than the predictable Kant. In other words, Kant was an average man who became a monster by sheer hardwork. Unknown to the two girls, Kant was now silently cursing his lack of talent despite the desire to protect the people.

He had polished his shoddy swordsmanship to perfection, shaving off all the unnecessary movement. Even though he had only one technique to close in on his opponents, even though the sharpness of his sword technique was… No! It was more than that. The way be breathed, the way he walked, everything was something Kant carefully trained across the years.

All of that was – at this very moment – crumbling away.

And fitting enough, in the face of death, from whom he could not flee, the top commander returned to being a mere knight.

Kant slowly lifted up his sword that he had been holding in a lowered stance all this time, and he wielded it in the middle stance.

He was no longer the feudal lord, who excelled in defense. At this moment, he was the expert martial artist, Kant Emanuel, and for the first time, he was going to risk fighting offensively.

His strength drained, he faintly looked at the girl standing before him. A girl in revealing outfit holding dagger like weapons in both of her hands.

Normally, he would not be able to see an opening from this young woman. But just a little, an opening the size of a needle could be seen from that intimidating pressure coming from her.

Suddenly, a thrust.

Kant’s right leg stepped out like one trying to stitch together a hole in the air. There was barely any resistance to the power coming from his legs. It passed smoothly from his knees to his hips, then to his back, and finally, his arms, as the strength of his whole body coursed into his thrust.

In that moment, Kant seemed to vanish from Clementine’s sights.

There were almost no preparatory movements when Kant moved out. It was so precise and so natural…

Of course, the resulting thrust was all the more terrifying.

All hints of the pain that tortured the knight vanished from his face as he drew out that one attack and caught Clementine’s life.

"Clementine?!" Gertrude yelled.

But there was yet a thread connected to Clementine’s life, a thread born from the sadistic girl looking into the knight’s eyes.

Kant’s face was emotionless when he drew out that one attack, but in his eyes blazed the will to fight.

As soon as she saw those flames, the instinct within her cried out in alarm. And without even the moment to ponder how shoddy a move it would be, Clementine intentionally allowed herself to fall to dodge. Immediately after, a streak of heat ran across the back of her neck.