Chapter 118.2

Slash!

A sharp, vertical gray line appeared from the crown of Nuchka’s head down to his groin, only to vanish instantly.

“…?!”

“?”

For a fleeting moment, my eyes met Nuchka’s.

Both of us stood frozen, metaphorical question marks hanging over our heads.

Long live my Luck stat.

I offered Nuchka a faint, mocking smirk as if to say, Unlucky for you.

Squelch—Thud!

Without a sound, Nuchka’s towering four-meter form split cleanly in two and collapsed to the ground.

Even the artifact he carried, supposedly a relic of the Golden Age, proved useless at that moment.

“…”

Before me, the enormous, beastly polar bear had been bisected so cleanly that I braced myself for a fountain of blood.

The edges of the cut are frozen?

But no blood spilled.

Step, step, step.

Footsteps crunched through the snow behind me.

Emerging from the storm was a woman.

“Her Highness, the Grand Duke…?”

With her flowing silver hair and sapphire eyes, she was none other than Arina Rune Renslet, the legendary beauty of the North.

“…Mary?”

But her attire and weapon were startlingly familiar—identical to Mary’s, down to the enchanted blade I had gifted her, Cry of the Snowfield.

“Could it be…?”

Her face was undeniably that of Arina, the Grand Duke of Renslet, but she was dressed in Mary’s clothes and wielded Mary’s weapon.

Good heavens!

It hit me like a slap to the face, the kind of realization that only comes absurdly late.

How did I not see this before?

My eyes darted to the necklace around Arina’s neck, its embedded mana stone now covered in fine cracks.

Ah… so that’s how it was.

Suddenly, all the pieces clicked together in my mind.

Transformation magic. Fencer’s Rule enchantments. And even perception-disrupting spells—Isabelle must’ve crafted this.

If the enchantments were of such high quality, there was no doubt Isabelle had made them herself.

But what about the Arina I’ve seen alongside Mary all this time? Could that have been an illusion from Isabelle’s magic?

The more questions I had, the more answers seemed to fall into place.

Still… for someone of her stature to go undercover as a secretary for this long?

I couldn’t fathom why, but it wasn’t important right now.

Memories of every careless thing I’d ever said or done in front of “Mary” began flashing through my mind like a death reel, but even that wasn’t my priority. ȐἈꞐốBƐS

Her condition!

Doing my best to stay composed, I called out to her.

“Your Highness! Are you all right?!”

“…”

Arina gave no reply.

A chilling, otherworldly aura surrounded her.

Her eyes and expression were vacant, devoid of clarity.

In her right hand, Cry of the Snowfield emitted a gray sword aura, a manifestation of power that transcended even a Sword Master.

“…”

I swallowed dryly as I stared at the shimmering aura, reminiscent of a Star Wars lightsaber.

Did she really use that technique?

The worst-case scenario flashed through my mind.

“Arad…”

“Yes?”

Her lips parted, and she spoke.

“Thank goodness… you’re safe.”

Her vacant sapphire eyes focused on me, regaining their sharpness.

“Really… thank goodness… I wasn’t too late…”

A smile of genuine relief and joy spread across her face.

Fwoosh!

The gray sword aura enveloping Cry of the Snowfield dissipated.

Thud.

Arina collapsed to the ground, unconscious.

“Your Highness!”

I rushed to her side, catching her before she could hit the snow.

The fearsome Knight of the Snowfield had transformed into a small, frail woman in my arms.

Her mana is completely drained! This only happens to mages…

I immediately examined her condition.

“Damn it…!”

As I checked the flow of energy in her lower and upper mana cores, a torrent of indescribable abnormalities revealed themselves.

Her body’s balance is utterly destroyed!

Her condition was dire—far worse than I had feared.

It’s like the deviation syndrome from martial arts novels… no, it’s even worse.

I clicked my tongue in frustration.

She’s on the brink of collapse.

The reason for her state was obvious.

She used that technique.

She had pushed the mana from her circles and her lower core beyond a hybrid state, forcing them into something akin to nuclear fusion.

It was the reckless use of a forbidden mana technique.

“Never use this technique.”

“I hope I never will.”

“You won’t need to.”

The conversation we’d had during one of her earlier medical exams came back to me.

At the time, the ominous weight of those words had unsettled me.

Thankfully, the defenses of Cry of the Snowfield and the various protective artifacts I gave her had held up.

Without them, her body would have exploded before I could even try to help.

There’s no time for regrets. Let’s fix what we can right now!

I immediately rummaged through my bag to find supplies.

So this is why that bag was hidden.

Attached to Arina’s belt was a bag—a familiar spatial magic pouch Mary always carried.

It was my first time seeing it so close. Upon inspection, it had a sleek design, with a case-like cover layered over the pouch, almost like a phone case.

Inside was the magical bag I had once gifted to Arina: Arad’s Devotion.

Potions! Holy water! Herbs! Med kits!@@novelbin@@

I dug through her bag, then my own spatial pouch, looking for anything that could help.

From the Renslet Church’s collection, I found various holy waters and potions, alongside a vial of blue liquid.

I also pulled out a syringe from my med kit.

The first priority was to treat her mana depletion. Only then could I begin stabilizing the imbalance in her heart and lower core.

Let’s extinguish the immediate fire first. The long-term damage can be researched later!

I injected her with mana potions, combining various other concoctions and administering them to her arm and near her heart.

Among the remedies was a half-baked elixir I had synthesized in the depths of the Demon Realm.

Hiss… Hiss…

Her once-labored breathing gradually eased, becoming steady and peaceful.