She doesn’t know where the army who launched the surprise attack came from, but she knows from a distance that their position is about to be taken down.
In the camp, she has her own men who are under her, especially Gracos Barzen, whom she respects like a grandfather.
There was a sharp voice behind her back. It belonged to an Imperial soldier who had survived the battle. At the same time, a cold, horrible feeling stroked the back of her neck.
When she turned to look, she saw Raidorl with his sword raised, so close that it was frightening.
“It’s not nice to look the other way, it hurts me!”
“Khhh.”
There is no room for interception. She concentrates all her attention on evading.
She leapt backwards on her tangled legs, her body slumping as pain shot up her spine.
“Phew!”
“Kyaa!”
Letting out a short cry of rupture, Raidorl strikes with a slash.
A jet-black sword passes right in front of her face.A moment’s delay in evading it could have decapitated her.
Who in the world would be so foolish as to throw the treasures of God’s creation at his enemies?
Does this man have no respect for legendary weapons?
“Flyyyyyy-Hyeaaaaa!!!”
Without hesitation, Raidorl threw his Dáinsleif and shouted, baring his pointed double teeth.
For Raidorl, the holy sword Dáinsleif was the most reliable partner, but it was also the perpetrator of his life. He has no qualms about throwing it aside in the name of victory.