Two girls in plain travel clothes wandered through the streets, glancing about. The bustling town center was filled with traveling merchants. They were none other than Milia and Lapicel, out on a mission to track down cultists.

Milia had purposefully removed her robes and was pretending to be an ordinary civilian. After all, the cultist would likely catch on if word got out that she was an inquisitor.

The two girls remained serious as they walked, carefully scanning their surroundings. Two young girls glaring around the streets might have seemed suspicious, but in truth, it wasn’t the case at all. To others, they simply looked like this:

Did they get lost?

Or maybe they lost the rest of their group?

No matter how skilled the two were, to the ordinary eye they were nothing more than fragile girls, and seeing two teenage girls wandering around at night made people uneasy. In the peaceful days of the past, meddlesome adults would likely have intervened in some way.

The problem was that the current lord, who had taken over after Hudel, wasn’t particularly competent. Due to his poor governance, the town was filled with unruly outsiders, and public safety had deteriorated significantly. Those who saw the girls were worried and concerned, but they decided not to act.

What should we do?

Let’s just ignore it.

And in towns where law and order had broken down, certain things were bound to happen to young girls who wandered alone. From a back alley, a group of thugs watched Lapicel and Milia with interest.

"What do you think, boss?"

"Both of them look pretty nice."

Young, pretty girls could be profitable in all sorts of ways, especially in this unspoken, despicable world. Morality held no sway over them.

"Aren’t they a little too young, though?"

"You’d be surprised. Young ones actually fetch a higher price."

"Damn, this world’s gone rotten."

When monsters ran rampant, the established powers were forced to deal with them. When the authorities were tied up, law enforcement weakened. And where there was no law, plenty of illegal ways opened up to make profits. These men were outsiders, drifters who had come to the town specifically to profit from the collapse of order.

"Hey, looks like one of ‘em’s carrying a sword."

"What if she’s actually a skilled warrior?"

The men paused, their expressions briefly serious. Then they broke into laughter.

"Pfft!"

"Yeah, right."

"Like you can become a swordmaster overnight?"

Unlike priests or mages, who occasionally displayed extraordinary power even at a young age, martial prowess was still bound by the physical limits of the body.

"There’s no way a kid like that’s a skilled swordswoman."

"Right? What, is she supposed to be the future martial king or something?"

The thugs began tailing the girls from a distance. There were still too many eyes on the main street. They’d need to find a quieter spot. Tonight, it seemed luck was on their side. As if on cue, the girls began heading into a secluded alley.

"Well, would you look at that. Today must be our lucky day."

"Block off both ends, boys."

"Yes, boss."

Large shadows suddenly emerged at either end of the alley, and the two girls stopped in their place.

One of the men swaggered forward and called out. "Hey there, little girls."

One of the girls gave a small laugh. "Wow. It’s not like I particularly enjoy being called a lady, but little girls? That’s a whole new level of gross."

"No kidding."

Strangely enough, neither of them looked the least bit flustered, not that it fazed the thugs.

Hah. These girls don’t get what’s going on. Typical.

They always yap until they get a good slap.

Still, things could get annoying if one of them actually drew a sword. It was better to scare them stiff before they got the idea.

Best to rough one up right away. That’ll shut them up.

One of the thugs stepped forward while cracking his knuckles. However, the girls remained completely unfazed.

"It’s not them, right, Sister Milia?"

"Yeah. They’re just local thugs."

"It’s really hard to find them." 𝕗𝗿𝕖𝐞𝐰𝗲𝕓𝐧𝕠𝕧𝗲𝐥.𝚌𝐨𝚖

"That’s just how it is, isn’t it?"

Of all the things they could have said, that phrase—local thugs—really rubbed the men the wrong way. It was, unfortunately, an uncomfortably accurate description. That meant... they understood the situation all too well, didn’t it?

"Boss, these brats are way too calm."

But the leader of the thugs wasn’t worried. "What’s the big deal? Happens all the time."

There was always a phase people went through after learning a bit of martial arts. The whole world would appear easy, and they would feel like they could knock down anyone who crossed them. Given the girls’ ages, they were probably right in the middle of that phase.

The leader of the thugs shouted. "Well? What are you standing around for? Gag them before things get noisy!"

The men lunged in from both ends of the alley.

***

Later that evening, Karnak and his group sat down at a new tavern. Luck seemed to be on their side this time. The place served genuinely good food. The aroma of golden-brown pork ham and spinach pie was mouthwatering. The quail soup with green peas and rich herbal notes that followed was equally impressive.

"They’ve got a great oven here."

"This soup’s something else!"

Karnak and Varos carved eagerly into their meals, thoroughly enjoying themselves. After the terrible food they’d had earlier, their palates were eager for redemption. Meanwhile, Leven and Serati sat beside them, wearing mildly dumbfounded expressions.

"Is this really okay?" Leven said.

Even now, Lapicel and Milia were likely scouring the streets, hunting for cultists who didn’t exist.

"Shouldn’t we at least pretend we’re helping search?" Serati suggested.

"Then go ahead." Still chewing a bite of pie, Karnak looked them straight in the eye. "Stay here and enjoy the pie, or go out there and wander the streets. Your call."

Leven and Serati blinked dazedly, then they picked up their forks and knives.

"The pie really is baked perfectly."

"And the soup’s divine."

Everyone seemed to have loosened up a little, but that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. After all, proper rest was essential to fight well when the time came.

"It’s not like anything’s going to happen anyway," Varos said casually.

"You never know," Serati countered.

Even if cultists weren’t around, there was still a good chance local thugs could stir up trouble in this town. Sure, in terms of pure skill, no street thug could even dream of touching Lapicel.

"She does try to avoid killing people, right? I’m just worried she might slip up," said Serati.

Karnak and Varos chuckled at the same time.

Karnak began, "Ah, well..."

"Lapicel definitely avoids killing," said Varos.

"She just stops short of it," Karnak took over.

Varos nodded. "She doesn’t actually kill."

Serati blinked, confused. "What?"

Stabbing another piece of pie with his fork, Karnak explained. "You might not know since you’ve only seen her as a kid, Serati..."

Lapicel, the Martial King of Cyphras, was certainly a righteous hero. But she wasn’t exactly gentle.

"When it came to punishment, sometimes Varos actually looked like the kinder one."

***

The thug felt the world spin upside down.

What... the hell is this?

That small, gray-haired girl hadn’t even drawn her sword. She merely took a small step forward and gently pulled at his arm. Then some invisible force grabbed the back of his neck and slammed him to the ground!

The man hit the floor with a scream. It wasn’t just the shock of the fall that made him scream. He made his living with violence. He wasn’t the type to cry out from getting tossed once. But having a joint pop out of place mid-fall? That was a different story.

The others weren’t faring much better. She darted between them, touched here, tripped there, shoved and pulled ever so slightly, and yet, none of them could keep their balance.

Why... am I losing ground?

It didn’t feel like they were being bested by skill.

Why am I falling?

It felt like the world itself shifted beneath their feet to topple them.

What the hell is happening?!

And as they crashed to the floor, they were overtaken by a wave of blinding pain, like their limbs were being pulled apart. They felt like marionettes with snapped strings, their joints popping loose and their minds shattering under the weight of it all. With just a few light steps, Lapicel had turned half the thugs into broken dolls. Her skill defied imagination. The remaining men groaned.

"Dear god..."

"What the hell is this...?"

It was often said that a true master could control a person with a single motion, and the thugs, too, had heard such people existed in the world. They just never imagined they'd meet one in real life.

Everyone knew dragons could breathe fire, but no one actually expected to burn in it. Only belatedly did the thugs come to their senses. They shouted in panic.

"Shit!"

"We’re screwed!"

"Run!"

The gang that had blocked off both ends of the alley turned tail and fled, scattering in every direction. Some of them would surely get caught, but the rest might escape. Such was the crude wisdom of the backstreets. They were willing to sacrifice a few so the others could live.

"No," came Lapicel’s voice.

But today, that wisdom failed them.

"You’re not going anywhere," she declared.

Her calm voice echoed again, and the world flipped once more. Limbs were ripped apart. Moments later, the entire gang lay crumpled like rags in the narrow alley.

Watching the carnage unfold, Milia thought in a daze. I thought Lapicel was just sweet, but it looks like she’s got a nasty streak.

***

But Lapicel wasn’t nasty. In truth, she was painstakingly concerned for the thugs’ well-being.

I can’t kill people over something like this.

Killing was irreversible. Well, lately, things had been so weird that even the dead sometimes clawed their way back out, but still, in principle, it was irreversible.

So no matter how evil someone was, she couldn’t kill them lightly. But letting them walk away without consequence was also not an option. Thus, she had dislocated all their joints, leaving them paralyzed. For the time being, they wouldn’t even be able to feed themselves without someone’s help.

If they weren’t too wicked, maybe friends or family would take care of them.

But what if they are sinners?

As soon as word got out that they were crippled, the people they’d wronged would come knocking to settle scores. It was, after all, their own doing.

"I’m in no place to judge the sins of those I meet. That’s why I let them face their own sins themselves," Lapicel declared.

Milia looked at Lapicel in awe. She didn’t sound like a child at all. She sounded like a weary adult, long acquainted with the world.

"Well, I learned all of this from..." She started to humbly credit Serati, then paused.

Now that she thought about it, she’d never heard anything like that from Serati.

Wait. Then where did I learn that?

Meanwhile, the collapsed thugs ground their teeth in rage.

"Grrrah!"

"Y-you little bitch!"

Their gall was impressive, considering they were beaten to a pulp. They should’ve been begging for mercy, not hurling curses. Were they really that stupid? No. Most people turned into fools when brought to such a state. The pain and humiliation were so overwhelming their brains just... shut down.

Lapicel was well aware of this, so she didn’t bother to get angry. She simply ignored them like usual. That is, until one of them staggered back to his feet.

Despite the searing pain, the man flailed his arms and charged like a madman with a scream.

Milia’s eyes went wide. Huh?

This wasn’t about grit or perseverance. His joints were dislocated. There was no way to transmit strength through his limbs. It should’ve been physically impossible for the man to move, unless something else was channeling force into his body.

Sure enough, thick, black smoke began to rise from the man’s entire frame. It wrapped around his limbs and controlled them in place of his ruined joints.

Lapicel’s expression darkened slightly. Necromantic energy.