Diana hadn't anticipated that the adventurer hired by Mellissa would prove useful on this journey, be it in travel, battle, or any other aspect. The man wore an expression of uncertainty and lacked self-confidence on his face, appearing as someone who would bow to anyone of higher status.
Despite his lack of confidence, he wasn't shabby looking. In fact, he might have been the most handsome man she had ever seen. The only individual comparable to this young man was the Emperor of the Northern Land, who possessed an androgynous face that one might mistake for that of a woman. However, this adventurer was unmistakably a man. While he had a slightly androgynous face, the underlying masculinity was apparent.
Nevertheless, his insecurity was undeniable.
Sure enough, Diana's thoughts were accurate. When a group of bandits appeared, he simply cowered there like a rabbit being glared at by a snake. Diana smirked at his timidity, unsheathing her sword. Proficient in martial arts and swordsmanship, she had reached a level where she could be deemed a master of the Dancing Sword Style. Convinced and confident, she believed she could defeat all the bandits single-handedly.
Diana became conceited. She underestimated the bandit leader, assuming he wouldn't match her skills. However, he proved to be formidable. Despite his unassuming appearance, the strength he wielded became evident during their confrontation. Even when she attempted to employ a secret technique passed down through generations, it proved futile against his prowess. The bandit leader was indeed strong.
Had it not been for the adventurer informing her that the sword was enhancing him, boosting his physical attributes, she wouldn't have known how to overcome him. Moreover, without a sword at that moment, defeating the bandit leader seemed impossible. Even with martial arts, she couldn't match his strength.
The adventurer saved her. Rising above his initial cowering demeanor, he ran for her sword and threw it to her. Despite the risk to his own life, he rescued her, someone who had been secretly mocking him in her mind.
Looking down at him, now nursing his arm, possibly injured from blocking the attack meant for her, she reached out her arms and said, "I-I'll help you get up."
Leon looked at Diana and smiled, "I appreciate it." He took her hand, and Diana assisted him in getting up.
That smile stirred something peculiar within Diana. What was it? Did she get injured or something? "Y-You're welcome. S-Still, I don't appreciate you doing that for me. Only fools would jump headfirst like that. So, I am not going to thank you for that." She pouted and blushed a little. What was going on? Was this really the same headstrong knight she had met earlier?
"Don't worry about it. I don't need thanks anyway. Besides, you're the one who saved me. If not for you, we would be doomed, right?"
"H-Hmph. That's right. If not for me, you'd be doomed."
'She's behaving rather oddly...' Leon tilted his head. "Anyway, why didn't you utilize that skill at an earlier age? You know, the one with the shining bright light?"
"You mean Sword Light Blast? I can't cast it immediately. I need to amass enough mana to wield such power, and even then, it was still relatively weak. To unleash a potent Sword Light Blast capable of slaying a dragon, I must accumulate a massive amount of mana." Diana proudly emphasized, puffing out her chest—or, well, the metallic armor she adorned. She then turned her attention to the remaining bandits, who were immobilized. "So, are you all still planning to continue this futile resistance?" she inquired.
Unexpectedly, a defiant voice rang out, "Of course we are." Diana and Leon turned around to witness the bandit leader brushing off the dirt from his body.
"...He survived all of that?" Diana muttered under her breath. "It seems I still have a long way to go in mastering that skill..."
"That skill really took a toll on me. I feel like some of my bones are cracked, and I sense a few broken ribs. If I wasn't wielding this sword, I might have been done for," the bandit confessed.
Leon, puzzled, looked at the bandit. "Huh? What's going on, Eve? Wasn't what Diana used a magical skill? Why is he still alive?"
Despite the formidable attributes the sword of Galahad bestowed upon its wielder, it fell short in providing substantial protection against magical assaults. Leon pondered, attempting to reconcile this information. How did this happen?
Eve, ever insightful, began to elucidate the situation, "It's not because of the sword that he survived, Master. You see, the knight's magical prowess was rather feeble."
Leon observed Diana's stats once again, noting her magic score of only 10. It seemed improbable for her to inflict significant harm on someone boasting 100 Magical Resistance.
"Nevertheless, even with a mere 10 Magical Power, she manages to deal substantial damage to an adversary with 100 Magical Resistance. This underscores the enduring might of the Pendragon lineage throughout human history. I find it quite astonishing that the hero has descendants; I had presumed he maintained celibacy after the hundred-year war," remarked Eve.
Leon focused on Diana. "Seems he's on his last legs. If you unleash that skill on him again, it'll likely be the end for him."
Diana traced her hand along her sword, gripping it tightly. "...Using that skill takes a toll on my body too. Gathering so much mana, only to unleash it all at once, is physically demanding."
The study of mana gathering was fundamental for mages, as it formed the basis for casting spells. Mana was typically drawn from the surroundings.
Diana, however, wasn't accustomed to using significant amounts of magic. Consequently, even with the small amount of mana she managed to gather, her breath became labored, and sweat began to form on her forehead. Compounding the issue, her magical prowess was a mere 10, falling well below the mediocre baseline of fifty. It seemed that Diana either lacked an affinity for magic or simply had no inherent talent in that realm.
"Heh. Seems like you can only pull off that skill once. Not as hot as you thought, huh?" He licked his lips, smeared with his own blood. "Oh, really. I'm gonna enjoy messing you up, sweetheart."
"Over my dead body."
"Is that right? Even if you're dead, that won't stop me from having my way with you."
Diana shot the man a disgusted look.
"Get ready for a real mess, miss!"
He was poised to pounce at her, the bandits licking their lips in anticipation, when suddenly, the carriage door swung open. Instantly, the bandit leader halted. No, it wasn't just him. Everyone in the vicinity froze, gripped by some mysterious force that made cold sweats break out on their skin. Even Diana, brave and prideful in her fighting skills, couldn't deny the shiver running down her spine.
The atmosphere turned frigid. What was this force? Ice Magic, perhaps? Maybe a hint of Wind Magic? Or was it a combination of both? Could it be something related to coldness? No, this wasn't magic. It was a power akin to what herbivores feel when hunted by carnivores. It was the sensation a frog might experience being stared down by a snake. This wasn't a force or magic; it was primal fear.
"W-What's happening?" Leon managed to stammer, feeling like he was frozen in place. "Eve?"
Despite his attempts to communicate with Eve, she remained unresponsive.
"Eve, what's going on?"
Even after calling out to her a second time, Eve still didn't react.
"What's taking so long?" a woman's voice came from behind him. He turned slowly and saw a woman dressed in a maid outfit that seemed straight out of a Victorian-era fantasy. The outfit was an intricate ensemble of midnight blue and silver, adorned with delicate lace and elegant embroidery. The sleeveless maid uniform accentuated her slender figure, and a silver brooch adorned with a sapphire gem gleamed on her chest.
The woman had the appearance of an ethereal beauty with piercing blue eyes that seemed to hold a secret wisdom. Her short, light blue hair was impeccably arranged in a bob cut, and three exquisite hair-clips adorned the right side, each one intricately designed. Not a strand of hair was out of place.
But what caught Leon off guard the most was her face—it displayed no emotion. Her features were porcelain-like, giving her the appearance of a doll brought to life. There was an unsettling beauty in her emotionless expression, as if she existed outside the realm of human feelings.
"L-Lilian?" Diana said, bewildered that the maid was the source of this chilling atmosphere.
"You're certainly savoring the moment dealing with these mongrels. The young lady is already running late. Mistress would be incensed if she arrived any later," the maid declared, gracefully descending from the carriage. Her gaze swept over each bandit, but when she fixed her eyes on Leon, studying him more than the others, she muttered, "I can't see." With an air of indifference, she added, "Oh well, that's of no concern for now. Let me handle this job for the two of you."
With deliberate poise, the maid raised both arms, fingers splayed open. Mana began swirling around her palms, a palpable energy that crackled in the air.
In a low whisper, she invoked, "Gluttony."