Elric looked back. Hughesin was back on his feet now, though his head was still facing the ground. Without being able to see his face, Elric couldn’t really say what the man was thinking about. But the stifling pressure was quite telling of a foul mood. 

Hughesin went from being a playboy noble to an awe-imposing hero in practically seconds. A hero leading multiple knights or even a commander leading an entire army. There was a presence ot Hughesin that was completely different than before. Like lightning in a bottle, the man felt intimidating and ready to last out at a single touch. 

This type of pressure was enough to practically cripple a man with willpower as weak as Elric’s. In terms of willpower, Elric had hardly a pittance of it. He was weak when he made the pact with Monster. Weaker was he when he was essentially made a slave for Crazy. The final nail was when he made no complaint at being forced to crossdress as a woman by Flania’s hand.

At least Elric was willing to fight tooth and nail so no one would figure out that last secret. He had to steel his mind and harden his nerves against this newest threat.

Unfortunately that was a wasted effort. Anyone could see from his pale-white face and trembling lip that Elric was terrified out of his mind.

Hughesin was a little delighted at the terror struck expression. His anger wasn’t aimed at the young lady, despite the wounds he received, but at his guards. What in the world were they thinking, crowding around her in such large numbers? What if rumors of this were to spread throughout the capital? That a duke used armed guards and two magi even to force a young woman into his home? That he had ill-intentions for her and he forced her to throw herself out the window? An Archpaladin using his own guards to force her to submit?

There was no way he’d allow that to happen. He’d be turned into a laughingstock by his friends and the emperor. Even worse, Somiret, his rival for Fantasia’s affection, would never let him hear the end of it. 

But those two paled in comparison to Somiret’s sister. She was an odd one and lived to poke fun at everyone else. The woman loved to rub salt on old wounds on a regular basis, giving her a fresh wound to rub would make life unbearable for Hughesin.

How could he 

not

 feel angry at such a future? 

His anger eliciting such a response from Fantasia was definitely an unexpected catch. One that made Hughesin feel a tad better and less angry about the situation. It seemed it was time for a new approach if his old methods weren’t working on the extraordinary lady that was Fantasia. 

Keeping the thunderous expression on his face, Hughesin stalked toward the trembling Fantasia in front of him. His admiration for the woman only grew to greater heights at the sight of her still standing. Even the most hardened criminals and people of wicked intentions would fall to their knees for forgiveness when they realized their momentum was lost and their life was at risk.

This feat was especially noteworthy since this aura of his was something Hughesin used to test all young men hoping to become knights. By their own willpower, these young men would have to be able to withstand his aura for a certain amount of time. 

Every year this test was conducted. And every year, not many would be able to stay on their feet.

So how surprising it was to see this seemingly weak and dainty young woman still standing. Did she have the courage of a lion under that soft demeanor of hers?

Remarkable she was, he admitted. If he were to give her a critic as he would any of the knights under his tutelage, then he’d have to say that Fantasia had the swift actions of a leopard and the nimble dexterity of a monkey. But that kick of hers was something else too, he’d grumble afterward. A woman brave enough to kick a man in such an area surely had to have skin as thick as a boar. 

He’d have to make sure to teach this woman a proper lesson later on the bed. She needed to know how heavy the price she’d have to pay for her actions.

Hughesin took another step toward the trembling woman. She looked ready to buckle at the knees. All he had to do was put on an additional layer of pressure and the little lamb would definitely give up. 

But he was wrong.

Hughesin blinked when he saw Fantasia meet his glare with one of her own. He could see fear in her eyes, but also something else. Determination. The way her eyebrows remained stationary despite everything else on her face was quaking. The way her chin grew taut, as though readying her lips to speak. She was overpowering her fear. 

A circle formed in between her linked fingers when she raised her arms, concentrating enough mana that her robes began to billow from the wind created from the pressure. 

The sight of her seemed almost mystical. Even her tacky vestments took on a more noble and elegant expression as they flowed and swayed with the wind. A beautiful imagery of a woman of beauty beyond the comprehension of the world. Something in the air spoke of a transcendental power capable of distorting time and space. She was hardly a few steps away from Hughesin, but he felt as though he was worlds apart from her. Her actions took hardly a few seconds, but time felt as if it came to a crawl, as if Hughesin was forced to stare at her for eternity.

An incantation followed. The chant was for a spell of some kind, but Hughesin thought every syllable she spoke to be almost songlike. Her vocalizations had a tempo to it that made the chant resemble a hymn more than a spell.

Then the weight of the situation sunk in. A spell meant danger! In crisis mode now, Hughesin began his attempt to discern the spell this woman was casting. He had no idea what kind of spell it was, but the amount of mana being weaved into her incantation seemed beyond mystical and only made Hughesin feel even more uneasy.

His body was yelling at him to rush for the young lady, but not his mind. His senses were screaming that it’d be too late for him to try, so Hughesin instead two blasts of pressure at Fantasia. They weren’t meant to harm the lady, but rather protect her. One blast was meant to serve as a protective bubble-like armor while the other tried to push her out of the way.

Unfortunately his plans failed. Four blades of wind streaked through the air and sliced apart Hughesin’s protections. There was a scream of pain followed by a spray of blood as Fantaisa crumpled softly to the ground.

“Call for a priest! I want the highest-ranking priest brought here 

now

!” Hughesin roared.

His scream came as a shock to many of his guards. They had never seen their commander react so angrily before! Eyes red, teeth bared, and a roar that could scatter the clouds—this was not the same commander they knew and served. Not even his most elite knights could prevent themselves from feeling cowed by the sight.