Rose: "Hello. Out for a walk too?"
Rose cheerfully waved, paying no attention to the stern, angry expressions of the group that had just arrived.
Draven: "You're bold indeed, daring to stand here without fleeing after what you've done."
Rose: "What have we done? Surely taking a walk isn't against the law?"
Her voice carried genuine confusion.
Draven: "You'll understand once you come back with us."
At his words, the holy knights simultaneously drew their weapons and advanced. Behind them, the priests began casting magic to strengthen and support the knights.
Rose: "Ah, I chose to speak peacefully, yet you insist on hostility and even violence against young girls? Then don't blame us for defending ourselves."
Draven: "Attack."
He gave orders to his subordinates while still carefully watching Rose's movements, the woman who remained calmly standing without making the slightest move.
From a distance, Tris thought to himself:
'The Church of Light's forces are strong, especially that old man leading them. He knows who the real threat is, but he still underestimates the danger here.'
If it were Tris, he would have ordered a retreat long ago. In fact, he wouldn't have bothered chasing them at all—the risks far outweighed any possible gain.
As the armed group closed in menacingly, the two white-haired attendants looked to Rose, silently asking what they should do.
Under her gaze, Rose gave a slight nod. And just like that, the two girls understood they had been granted permission to act.
The two girls stepped forward calmly, advancing toward the enemy crowd.
And then, the figures of the two girls seemed to vanish. No—more precisely, they moved so fast that the naked eye could hardly follow their motions.
In an instant, they closed the distance to the group of people from the Church of Light.
As soon as they reached a certain range, Tris suddenly saw the heads of two holy knights severed and falling to the ground.
The strike was so swift and sharp that the victims died without even realizing what had happened.
Tris: 'That…?'
Draven: "Beware the threads from their fingers!"
The Bishop urgently shouted a warning to his men.
Exactly as he said—thin threads, nearly invisible, streamed from the white-haired girls' fingertips, slicing through the air at terrifying speed.
Despite their delicate appearance, they carried enough force to cut through the defensive barriers of the holy knights and even the protective magic cast by the priests behind them.
Hearing Draven's warning, the group hastily strengthened their defenses and tried to dodge the deadly attacks. Yet even so, two more holy knights lost their heads, and another was slashed deeply in the thigh.
"Surround them! Close in!"
No one knew who shouted it, but it was the thought shared by many of the Church of Light's Warriors.
The priests, realizing defensive magic was ineffective, switched to casting spells that boosted their comrades' speed.
The effect was immediate. Two nearby holy knights managed to dodge threads aimed at their throats. They closed in successfully, swords raised, ready to strike down their foes.
But then, before their swords could even swing, both knights suddenly froze, lifeless, unable to move.
Slowly, they lowered their gaze to their own bodies. There, each of their chests had been pierced through by something resembling the leg of an insect.
Those grotesque limbs had thrust out from beneath the cloaks of the two girls. As thick as a human arm and as long as a grown man's reach, their tips were razor-sharp, no different from true weapons.
Watching their comrades fall one after another, the remaining holy knights still pressed forward with courage, refusing to retreat.
They attacked in fury, determined to cleave their enemies apart, to punish those who dared slaughter their precious companions.
Yet amid the storm of strikes, the two young women moved swiftly—dodging with precision, blocking blows with those long insect legs.
Their hands continued to dance in the air, threads slicing through flesh whenever an opponent faltered, even for the briefest instant.
Blood sprayed through the chaos, staining the battlefield. Meanwhile, the two beautiful white-haired girls remained untouched, not a single wound upon them.
The only thing the knights managed to cut was the cloaks they wore. As the garments fell away, the truth was revealed: From each girl's back sprouted four bizarre insect legs.
Exposed now, they resembled the limbs of some monstrous spider.
"Heretics!"
"Demons! Inhuman fiends!"
Curses rang out, hurled at them. But the girls paid no heed, faces cold, movements relentless.
Still wearing cold, expressionless faces, the two continued to move without the slightest hesitation. Threads kept slicing through the air, while the spider-like legs stabbed out skillfully from deadly angles.
One by one, the holy knights were cut down, their numbers steadily dwindling.
It no longer looked like the girls were being surrounded—instead, it seemed as though they were the ones encircling and pressing in on all their foes.
Tris: "Terrifying.'
Watching from not far away, Tris clicked his tongue in awe.
Each of Rose's attendants was overwhelmingly powerful.
Comparing himself carefully, Tris realized that in pure close combat, he couldn't defeat either of them.
Even if he used magic and every trick he had, victory was far from certain. He couldn't even be sure whether they had revealed their full strength yet.
Tris: "Where did you find subordinates like that?"
A hint of envy colored his voice—Rose was strong, and even her followers were formidable.
Meanwhile, his only subordinate was a gluttonous little girl who hadn't even begun learning magic.
Rose: "Want some? Join the White God Church, and I'll give you a pair."
For a moment, Tris seriously considered it. Maybe joining a religion wasn't so bad if the benefits were good.
But he quickly regained his composure and declined:
"Forget it. If even the saintess doesn't get paid, I'm not interested."
Rose: "Tch, pity. Oh… looks like he can't sit still anymore."
A thunderous crash rang out as the two white-haired girls were suddenly blasted backward. With agile movements, they landed and immediately took defensive stances.
Their unexpected attacker was Bishop Draven, now wielding a massive silver warhammer adorned with ornate patterns, gripped firmly in both hands.
The warhammer measured over two meters in length. Its head was as large as the torso of a grown man. Though it looked heavy, Draven swung it with ease, as if it were nothing more than a small branch.
With the situation deteriorating rapidly and nearly half of his men already dead, Draven could no longer remain idle, despite still having to stay cautious of Rose's every move.