"FIGHT!" Raul's voice bounced off the walls of the Manor.
A ringing silence hung over the arena. The Duga brothers, shifting from foot to foot, stared with blatant bewilderment at the miniature girl in a bonnet and apron standing alone opposite them.
Bell, swallowing the lump in his throat, cautiously tugged the nearest giant's elbow.
"Uhm... Be careful. She seems strong."
The meathead just waved him off good-naturedly, flashing a snow-white smile.
"Don't worry so much, brother! It's just a little girl."
He took a wide, relaxed step forward, casually twirling his training sword.
"Hey there, cutie! No need to get your hands dirty here," he boomed, winking. "How about I just gently push you over the line, so we avoid any bruises, eh?"
Carol, who until this moment had been standing with her blade lazily lowered, slowly raised her head. Neither anger nor offense reflected in her dark, bottomless eyes. Only absolute, icy contempt.
The next second, the air whistled.
She dashed forward so sharply that the dust under her shoes kicked up only a moment later. Closing the distance, the maid braked about three meters from the meathead, flowed seamlessly into a stance, and made an imperceptible lunge forward. The wooden blade slammed directly into the center of the giant's massive chest with a terrifying crunch.
He let out a strangled wheeze—all the oxygen was instantly knocked from his lungs. His hundred-kilo bulk lifted off the ground and flew several meters backward, crashing helplessly into the dust.
Bell, without even flinching, just leaned slightly toward the dumbfounded trio:
"That's exactly what I meant."
The smiles instantly slid off the remaining brothers' faces. Growling, they took her seriously and began to slowly fan out, trapping the maid in a tight ring from three directions.
Carol waited in cold blood for them to close the distance. And when they were no more than two meters away, and the giants had already raised their arms for a simultaneous strike, the girl vanished again.
She leaped straight at the central opponent.
The hard heels of her shoes slammed squarely into the meathead's face with a running start. Using his broken nose as a springboard, Carol soared higher, spinning in the air like a deadly top. The training blade in her hands traced a perfect arc. The left brother caught it right in the gut, the right one—with a crunch from the bottom up straight to the jaw.
Landing on her feet with the grace of a cat, the maid calmly adjusted her skewed bonnet. Behind her, three unconscious bodies crashed to the ground with a rumble. The fight had lasted exactly 10 seconds.
Bell was left standing completely alone, feeling his own jaw slowly dropping.
"Wow..." echoed a thoughtful, magically amplified voice over the arena.
I completely agree, Bell nodded mentally, swallowing convulsively and raising his sword with both hands.
***
Sparks were flying in the judge's box.
"Don't you think this is overkill?" Rane crossed his arms over his chest, scowling at Loki. "Pitting an adventurer with a Falna against ordinary people. Where is the fairness in that?"
Loki, throwing her leg over the armrest, shrugged carelessly.
"Just relax. They don't even have to beat her. Just surviving for a bit is enough. But those mountains of lard went down with one kick. They don't have an ounce of adventurer talent anyway. Maybe Ganesha will scoop them up, he loves weird guys like that."
"Nevertheless, for ordinary people—"
"You're just shaking in your boots for your rabbit!" the Goddess bared her teeth.
Raul, feeling the situation heating up, timidly tried to interject:
"Uhm, Loki-sama, Rane, maybe we should..."
"STAY OUT OF IT!" they barked in absolute synchrony, turning their heads toward him.
Raul squeaked and literally pressed himself into his chair, trying to merge with the wooden backrest. Rane and Loki, surprised for a second by such unanimity, exchanged glances. The degree of tension dropped slightly. They sat up straighter simultaneously, returning their attention to the arena and adopting a calmer demeanor.
"Here's what amazes me," Rane spoke, resting his chin on intertwined fingers. "Is absolutely all the staff in your House comprised of adventurers? Major Familias truly astound with their scale."
Loki suddenly looked away. For the first time since they had met, a clear flash of uncertainty, heavily mixed with irritation, flickered across the Goddess's face.
"Well, actually... that's not quite it," she grumbled, nervously drumming her fingers on the table. "She's not staff. That weirdo just started dressing like that on her own."
Loki shuddered, as if remembering something highly unpleasant related to when she had started hanging around Bell.
Rane, catching the subtext and realizing what she wasn't saying, shifted his gaze back to the arena.
"O-o-oh..." he drawled knowingly.
***
Meanwhile, a dance for survival was unfolding below.
Carol was on the offensive. Her strikes weren't packed with monstrous mass, but their speed was simply staggering. The wooden sword in her hands turned into a continuous blur.
Bell retreated, dodging on pure instinct.
Fast! Too fast! hammered in his head.
He miraculously avoided a thrusting strike, immediately ducking to let a whistling horizontal slash pass over his head. The maid's training blade still grazed his shoulder, leaving a stinging scrape.
Carol didn't utter a word, but with every successful hit, with every bruise blooming on the youth's body, her face subtly changed. The icy mask cracked, giving way to a faint, sadistic flush of pleasure. She clearly enjoyed dominating. Enjoyed backing her prey into a corner and watching it flounder.
She intensified the pressure. Blows rained down in a hail. Bell blocked, gritting his teeth, feeling his arms go numb. Just a little more! he encouraged himself. The boy spun, jumped, fell, and rolled. He didn't even hope to counterattack; he was just surviving. And gradually, dodging off the line of attack time after time, Bell seemed to start adapting to her ruthless rhythm.
"Ho-o-oh... Surprising," Loki drawled in the box, leaning forward.
Rane cast a sidelong glance at her.
"What, again?" he asked, suspecting another jab at his friend.
"I'm talking about something else," the Goddess narrowed her eyes. "From the very first glance, I knew he was absolutely 'Talentless'. Not a drop of innate predisposition for combat. What's happening down there right now is truly surprising."
Another divine trick, Rane thought to himself, showing not a shred of surprise. He shifted his gaze to the arena.
"A human is capable of much even in the absence of talent," he said in an even tone. "However, there are barriers that cannot be overcome by strength alone."
On the arena, Bell, who had more or less gotten used to the exchange of blows, suddenly saw a strange, frightening smile bloom on Carol's lips—half-aroused, expectant. The maid suddenly became deadly serious. She made a sharp dash, the speed of which Bell simply couldn't track.
Catching the boy off guard, she delivered a crushing horizontal strike. Bell instinctively raised his sword, taking the attack on a hard block.
CRACK!
The blow was entirely too strong. Bell's training blade snapped exactly in the middle with a crunch. The follow-through impact to his chest and the momentum threw the youth several steps backward, while the severed half of his weapon spun high into the air.
Rane's voice in the box, never taking his eyes off his friend, sounded firm and confident, finishing his thought:
"...And if there is a power capable of overcoming the impossible, it is..."
Bell didn't fall. Enduring the recoil and keeping his footing, he pushed off the ground sharply, jumping to meet the falling fragment. The fingers of his left hand caught the tumbling stump of the blade mid-air in a reverse grip, like a short dagger.
Carol, completely not expecting such a turn, was taken aback for a fraction of a second.
That was enough. Bell descended upon her in a hail of relentless attacks. The dual blades moved insanely fast. Deflecting the maid's flustered lunge with the right fragment, he immediately landed a whipping strike to her wrist with the left.
The weapon slipped from Carol's fingers. She stumbled, instinctively stepping back, but Bell was already there. The two jagged wooden points crossed perfectly at her throat.
"Strength of spirit."
A dead silence hung over the courtyard. Breathing heavily, Bell looked straight into the face of the frozen Carol. And the maid... her cheeks were suddenly flooded with a deep, bright blush. A completely new, strange feeling of having been defeated splashed in her widened eyes.
And at that exact second, the youth's strength finally left him. Bell's eyes rolled back, and he collapsed unconsciously right onto the girl.
In the stands, Rane looked at the dumbfounded faces of Raul and Loki. His lips stretched into a wide, genuine smile. Pumping a victorious fist, he added:
"And he also has an incredible gift for dual-wielding!"
The arena erupted in deafening ovations and ecstatic shouts.
***
Consciousness returned reluctantly. The first thing Bell felt was a tender softness under his cheek and caught a subtle, pleasant floral scent.
He slowly opened his eyes.
Right above him hovered Carol's face. She was neatly tucking away a stray dark lock of hair. The boy realized with horror that he was lying with his head in her lap, right on the edge of the arena, which other Familia members were already hastily restoring to normal.
Noticing that he had woken up, Carol looked at him. Her face remained completely impassive, and her gaze—stern and cold.
"What a pity. I was hoping you'd never wake up," she said in an icy tone.
Bell yelped.
"I-I'm sorry!!" he yelled in a panic, jumping to his feet.
He wanted to start making excuses, but his exhausted body protested. The world spun before his eyes, his legs gave out, and Bell began to tip over sideways.
He never hit the ground. Carol sprang up with lightning speed and caught him by the arm, pulling him tightly against her. Bell's face buried itself in something extremely soft and prominent, hidden beneath the fabric of her uniform.
Blood instantly rushed to the boy's face, making him look like a ripe tomato.
"Uh... Ah... I..." he babbled, stuttering, trying in vain to pull away, but the girl's grip was like steel.
"Do not cause trouble," Carol articulated with the same stone face, continuing to hold him firmly.
"Enough flirting!" a mocking voice rang out from the side.
Bell cast a sidelong glance and saw Rane. Next to him walked Loki, expressing the utmost degree of displeasure with her entire demeanor.
"Move it!" the Goddess huffed, waving her hand. "Did you fall asleep over there?!"
Bell twitched, wanting to rush to his partner, but Carol didn't even think about loosening her arms. With a slower, measured pace, she led the red-faced, stuttering boy after the others, ignoring his feeble resistance.