This was not Sovinia acting on a whim.
In her vision, above the Slime King’s head, a golden card floated, with a large question mark in its center. Next to the card was also a brass Treasure Chest.
Sovinia’s heart pounded like war drums—if only this drumming was not for a lump of sticky Monster.
Gold Card! Treasure Chest!
In the past, she would have found a way to start fighting immediately, eager to claim such tempting spoils.
The premise for enemies to drop cards upon being killed was this: the weaker the enemy, the lower the quality of the card—or even none at all. On the other hand, the stronger the enemy, the higher the quality, and additional loot might be attached.
If she killed it, she could draw a powerful Gold Card. Gold Cards came in all sorts of effects, some useful, some not.
But for her current frail Elven body, any Gold Card would boost her strength. What’s more, the Treasure Chest guaranteed at least one reward—an actual, tangible treasure.
And that’s not all…
Her gaze swept across the writhing Slime marsh. Above the heads of Slimes big and small floated gray cards, each also marked with a question mark.
As long as she killed enough, she could surely collect a full set of cards and break free from her weak status.
“Thump, thump, thump.”
Sovinia’s heart beat even faster.
At that point, she would have the strength to independently search for her own head. This stupid dog would have no further use and could be backstabbed for a card drop.
All she needed to do was cast a stone into the Lake, expose her location, and then the Slime King would come charging.
This stupid dog beside her would definitely draw his Sword to protect her; all she had to do was land the finishing blow.
Sovinia could barely hold herself back—she was about to throw the stone.
Wohard’s voice happened to sound in her ear: “Miss Sovinia, there’s no need to be afraid. I’m right beside you.”
He had heard Sovinia’s heartbeat and thought she was scared, so he turned to speak to her.
Sovinia immediately hid the stone, feeling somewhat guilty, and nodded stiffly at Wohard.
Wohard’s face—that half with a fiery red scar—and his Sword were clearly reflected in her eyes.
The floodgates of memory burst open.
***
In the Throne Room.
The Queen of Demons, Hero Party, and the treacherous Kimi the Coldhearted—all three sides clashed in battle.
Roars, rumbles, curses—all sorts of sounds intertwined.
The First Heavenly King, Kimi the Coldhearted, had bad luck. Foolishly, he hadn’t drawn a Defense Card.
She saw Wohard’s Sword flash like lightning, the world spinning. She saw her own headless body, blood blazing from her neck.
The chill of death still seemed to linger on her neck. Unconsciously, she reached out to touch—her head was still there.
This body was too weak. Wohard needed only one Sword stroke to easily sever her head.
Heck, it didn’t even have to be Wohard. Any adult male who’d trained in The Sword Arts for a week could, with a single cut, kill or cripple her.
The flames of greed were doused by a bucket of ice-cold water.
The risk was too high.
No matter the reward, if she died, she’d lose everything.
Even if it meant missing out, it was still a loss.
Because once she regained her strength, these feeble Slimes would no longer be “strong” in her eyes and could not provide her with any more cards.
The weak cannot provide cards. That is the rule of the Card System.
Sovinia took a deep breath, burying her unwillingness deep within.
She lifted her head, her face calm once more.
“This isn’t a place to linger,” Sovinia spoke. “I think I remember a path that can bypass this area. Let’s go.”
She turned to lead the way, only to find Wohard unmoved.
He was still crouched behind the Stalactite, body tense like a drawn bow, his gaze locked tightly on the Slime King not far ahead, one hand gripping his Sword hilt.
As if ready to charge out at any moment.
Sovinia edged closer and followed his line of sight to that massive, dark green mass. Inside the Slime King, countless corpses floated up and down—bones and rotten flesh mingled.
***
“What’s wrong?” Sovinia asked. “Did you notice something?”
Without turning, Wohard spoke in a low voice: “That… that armored corpse… is my companion, Barte.”
His finger pointed into the Slime King.
Sovinia saw it: a shattered form, breastplate half-submerged in slime, and on the chestplate, the painted figure of a Boar.
“He was a good man, Miss Sovinia.” Wohard’s voice was filled with painful memories. “When he joined us, he was a Knight. He said he came from The Southlands Wheatfields, used to be a farmer.
“He told me his greatest wish was to return home and open a Bakery, baking the most delicious bread in town with his own wheat. He said his daughter loved his Honey Bread the most…
“He only took up the Sword so his family could live free from Demon Race threats. He was willing to give up everything for that.”
Bread? Daughter?
Sovinia could not construct the meaning of these concepts in her mind.
The weak are resources, sacrifices for the Progenitor, the steps beneath one’s feet. The value of a companion was in their utility in battle; a dead companion was nothing but useless trash.
To feel sad for a useless corpse? How odd.
“It’s time to go,” Sovinia said calmly. “We don’t have much time to waste.”
Wohard slowly turned to her, and in a low, apologetic voice said:
“Forgive me, Miss Sovinia. I’m afraid we’ll have to stay here a bit longer. I… I must delay your precious Escape.”
“I don’t understand. Why?”
“Barte was a Hero,” Wohard’s voice grew firm. “He gave his life for humanity and the Empire. He shouldn’t be Monster food, ending up as nothing but excrement. This shouldn’t… Miss Sovinia, it shouldn’t be this way.”
***
Sovinia said, “Sovinia replied coldly, ‘Slimes decompose and absorb their prey; it’s hardly dirty—cleaner than you imagine.'”
“No matter what!” Wohard’s voice rose. “I must bring him out. At the very least, I’ll bring his Badge back to his daughter. His family deserves closure—and pride.
“A Martyr who died for humanity must not be left in such a state.”
Sovinia fell silent, staring at Wohard.
For a corpse, for a worthless Badge, to challenge a giant Monster?
She asked, “Is there a Blessing?”
“What Blessing?”
No reward at all. This was simply… foolish beyond measure.
Yet in the next moment, a rush of ecstasy rose in her heart.
But, I like this kind of foolishness.
“So, what’s your plan?” she asked, a hint of anticipation even she didn’t notice in her voice.
Wohard drew his scorched long Sword.
“I’m going to kill that thing and bring Barte out.”
Stupid dog—truly stupid. Sovinia sneered inwardly. If I’d known you were so easy to fool, I would have disguised myself as some Elven prince and had you go bite the Queen of Demons.
Sovinia instantly slipped into battle mode. She crouched down, opened the black leather backpack, and laid out the three Magic Scrolls inside: Forcefield Sphere, Shadow Walk, Greater Fireball Spell.
“Very well, since you’ve decided.” Her finger tapped the Fireball Spell scroll. “Listen to me—I have a plan…”
Before she finished—
“Thank you.”
Wohard had already bent down and gathered all three scrolls, stuffing them into his own pocket.
“Miss Sovinia, please stand back.” His tone left no room for argument. “Go behind that stone pillar over there—it’s safe enough.”
Sovinia glanced at the pillar. It was too far away. “If I stand that far off, how can I support you? A battle isn’t fought alone.”
“The upcoming fight will be extremely dangerous.” Wohard’s expression was grim. “I cannot let you be at risk. Please, I ask this as a Knight—get as far away as possible.”
Finally, Sovinia understood.
He didn’t see her as a combatant at all. In his eyes, she was just a helpless Elven Princess.
A weakling dragging him down.
Anger flared in Sovinia’s heart.
This stupid dog! He’s looking down on me! Who does he think I am? A weak little female? When I was piling up heads into skull pyramids, your great-great-grandfather was still just an amorphous blob!
Fine, I’ll remember this insult. When I stab you in the back, I’ll make sure to twist the knife.
She cursed Wohard with the vilest words in her heart and blurted out:
“No! I’m not a weakling. And the enemy is strong—you can’t handle such a huge Monster alone. I must stay and help you!”
In her eyes, she was questioning—or even challenging—Wohard’s strength.
But Wohard was deeply moved as he looked at her.
He saw none of the willfulness of a princess—she was so beautiful, like a shaft of moonlight, out of place in this dark, filthy cave, yet willing to stand with him, to care for him.
Wohard said, “I appreciate your concern, Miss Sovinia. But please trust me, I can handle this. If you’re here, I’ll only be distracted.”
“Don’t underestimate me, Hero Wohard!” Sovinia straightened her back, playing her only card. “As the Elven Princess, I command you! Besides, my memories contain knowledge about Monsters—I know their weaknesses. I won’t be your burden!”
Wohard paused, admiration surfacing. He had thought her a delicate flower needing protection, never expecting such courage beneath.
Though in fact, it was the soul of Kimi the Coldhearted.
“…It was presumptuous of me, Miss Sovinia. Please forgive my rudeness.” Wohard apologized sincerely. “In that case, would you share your insight? How should we deal with this big guy?”