Standing before the leopard woman with pale lips, I was laying out my reasoning when a loud voice came from nearby. I'd heard it before.
Turning toward the sound, I saw the elf girl—whose name, Tiriel, I'd learned during the recent interaction with Ferris and the others—and the dragon lady, Asherira. Apparently, both were participating in this combat training.
Asherira pointed at me and said something.
Tiriel stood beside her, desperately trying to calm her down, but Asherira wouldn't stop. Marching over to me with her shoulders squared, she thrust her spear at the leopard woman.
"〆◇※■☆〒●＃!"
I couldn't understand what she was saying, but it was clear she was furious.
She definitely had a grudge against me after what happened the other day. I'd stripped her naked in front of the entire school. And let's not forget that the tip of my Butcher Lance had pushed her lips apart a bit. Almost got through, too.
The demon officer stepped forward to calm Asherira, but in the end, he sighed heavily and turned to me. He placed a hand on my shoulder.
"Fight this warrior, Asherira. The winner gains the right to do as they please with the prey. You may injure her, but do not kill her."
Ah, so that's how it is.
Asherira, you want your revenge, don't you?
The demon officer stepped back. Asherira smirked and took a distance from me.
Her spear stance was graceful and polished—clearly a skilled fighter.
The spear itself was magnificent.
Its intricate design featured a dragon coiled around the shaft, and its blade gleamed brilliantly as it aimed at me.
I looked at Tiriel, hoping she'd intervene for the sake of our part-time job camaraderie, but she just covered her face with her hands, looking dismayed. No help there.
Reluctantly, I pulled the Butcher Knife from my back.
The tip of the massive cleaver stabbed into the ground with a dull thud.
Almost simultaneously, the ground exploded where I'd been looking.
Asherira charged like a launched arrow.
Whoa, too fast!
I hastily raised the Butcher Knife as a shield, but the impact was immense, and my feet slid across the ground.
—Wow!
I'd once blocked a 50mm anti-tank shell, and this felt just as powerful. My bones groaned.
From there, Asherira's onslaught began.
She unleashed a masterful display of spearwork, but I countered with my own nimble knife skills, holding my ground against her relentless attacks.
She swung her spear, and I matched her strike for strike.
We exchanged blows, neither of us yielding.
Each clash of our weapons distorted the air around us.
The scent of burning metal filled the air.
The surrounding aliens murmured in awe.
Tiriel frowned as she watched us, while the demon officer crossed his arms, looking entertained.
Occasionally, Asherira mixed in sweeps with her tail, sharp kicks, and reckless charges, relentlessly pressing me into a defensive stance.
Her face twisted into a demonic expression, and her spear tip trailed with a dense, murderous intent.
This is… she's definitely planning to kill me and call it an accident.
With a deafening *clang*, our weapons collided, sending sparks flying.
We locked in a stalemate.
Up close, Asherira's gaze was like that of someone staring at their sworn enemy.
For her to be this angry… could it be—
Did I break her hymen?
I'm a bit fuzzy on the details from the other day, but didn't you have two holes?
I'm pretty sure I aimed for the front one, but I think I felt a *tear*…
Did I… rip it? Asherira?
In response to my unspoken taunt, Asherira kicked me.
We distanced ourselves and clashed again.
She deflected my knife's trajectory and launched a sudden thrust using only the spring in her upper body, grazing my neck by a hair's breadth.
I tried to grab her, but she quickly moved out of reach. She'd been restraining her large movements and was now fighting cleverly, wary of my brute strength.
Still, this is ridiculously unfair. I can injure her but not kill her…
All my unrestrained attacks are potentially fatal.
I'm forced to hold back, but that means I can't push past her pressure.
To overpower her, I can't hold back—she's that strong.
In the end, I can't lay a hand on Asherira.
Meanwhile, she's doing whatever she wants.
I grit my teeth and endure, stubbornly holding my ground.
—I'm starting to get a little annoyed.
If she uses her breath attack, I'll kill her. I made that decision just as she suddenly leaped into the air.
From above, she plunged downward, her spear thrust fueled by the momentum of her descent.
The glowing spear tip seemed to expand in my vision.
In an instant, I intercepted its path with the Butcher Knife. Simultaneously, the blade shattered with a grating *crack*.
Asherira, her descent halted, stumbled back. She gasped for breath but wore a smug smile, confident in her victory.
In my numb hand, only half of the Butcher Knife remained.
Honestly, that's impressive. It's the first time my knife has been shattered.
Her spear is incredible, but Asherira's combat prowess far exceeded my expectations.
So this is a Dragonmaid…
I've never seen an alien move like this before. She's an elite warrior among her kind. If she keeps getting beaten by me, it'll be embarrassing for her.
—Can't be helped. I didn't want to show off too much, but if I'm going to get killed, I'll have to use my trump card.
Ignoring the demon officer's attempt to stop her, Asherira raised her spear and charged, her lips curling in delight.
I stared her down and dropped the remains of my knife.
Relaxing my entire body, I waited for her assault.
Asherira hesitated for a moment at my stillness but quickly hardened her gaze and thrust her spear straight at me.
The spear tip, now a streak of light, aimed for my heart. At the last instant, my hand deflected the strike.
The spear, slightly deflected by the force from my side, grazed my shoulder as I sidestepped.
Asherira's momentum carried her forward, and she stumbled into my embrace.
—This is what happens when you recklessly thrust at an unarmed opponent. Remember that.
I grabbed her collar with my thick fist as she stumbled forward in shock.
Simultaneously, I gripped her arm with the hand that had deflected the spear.
With a twist of my body, I lifted her off the ground, completing a shoulder throw.
Arching my back, I pulled her in tightly and slammed her head into the ground.
A low rumble shook the earth, and a cloud of dust erupted.
It was a close-quarters combat technique taught by Fox, designed for bayonets and knives. This throw combined my weight and her own momentum, making it devastatingly powerful.
Even Asherira, a physical elite among aliens, had no way to counter the absurdity of Butcher's shoulder throw.
The impact echoed through the forest, loud enough to shatter a skull, but she lay in the small crater, coughing up blood yet still conscious.
Even I was surprised. She's incredibly tough—as expected of a dragon.
Asherira immediately struggled to break free from my grip. But by then, I'd already mounted her, guided by the soldier's instincts ingrained in my brain.
Asherira opened her mouth.
In the depths of her throat, I saw a blinding light.
In the next moment, my fist slammed into her face.
I won't let her use her breath attack.
"Guh—"
Blood sprayed from her nose as she gasped.
I clenched my fist and held my arm raised above her, frozen in place. It was a clear message: try anything, and I'll punch you again.
Her eyes clouded with pain, but she quickly guarded her face with both arms, opening her mouth behind them. She was determined to blast me with her precious breath attack.
Reluctantly, I slammed my fist down, putting my weight behind it.
The ground boomed like a drum, and pebbles around us jumped in unison.
My strike from the mount position easily broke through her guard, crushing her face.
Sandwiched between Butcher's iron fist and the earth, Asherira's head was obliterated.
"Gah… hah…"
As I pulled my fist back, a pained groan finally escaped her partially opened mouth.
Asherira is undeniably strong.
But once it comes to grappling like this, she has no chance of survival. Pinned beneath my massive frame and strength comparable to heavy machinery, how many humanoid beings could resist?
I froze again, fist raised. This time, I won't hold back—surrender. I flexed my powerful arm, muscles bulging, to drive the point home.
Asherira glared at my fist with frustration, finally stopping her struggles.
She lay flat on the ground, hands splayed, teeth clenched. Her face, smeared with mud and blood, stared up at me with eyes that glistened with seeping blood. Her fangs and horns were painfully chipped.
Even in such a state, her unwavering fighting spirit tightened my chest.