The Guild Master Whose Hobby Was Helping People Found Himself Surrounded by the Strongest, Overly Attached Members - 25

Chapter 25: The Maid, the Sword Saint, and the Brave Warrior

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“It’s safe to say that its characteristics are the same as the monster from earlier.”

Lisette spoke her analysis aloud as she twisted her body and leapt as if sliding through the air. Her skirt floated lightly, and in the very next moment, countless knives were clasped between her hands. Thin, sharp, and wrapped in a dazzling veil of light, the blades radiated magical intent to kill.

“Deploy.”

At her graceful voice, the knives danced through the air. Diagonal, circular, spiraling paths. Their trajectories were like the claws of a beast hunting its prey, yet also carried the fleeting beauty of flower petals scattered by the wind.

It—the monster—tried to defend itself by circulating its magic to conjure a barrier, but the light-clad blades shredded through its magical barrier, pierced its skin, and tore into its flesh.

“—Aaaarghhh!”

The abomination screamed. It was still growing, so it should have had some regenerative ability. Yet it remained wounded.

“W-what the hell is this thing!?”

Despite having absorbed monsters and evolved, it was being pushed back by a single maid.  Each time a knife pierced its body, black miasma burst from its shadowy frame, scorching the ground. Its voice carried not only pain and rage but also fear.

“This… This can’t be happening…!”

It swung its arm violently, unleashing a torrent of magic. Shaped like black feathers, they hurtled toward us with terrifying force.

“Damn it!”

It understood its disadvantage and was trying to seize the upper hand through external means. By targeting me and the siblings while we were weakened, it aimed to limit Lisette’s movements.

I’m a complete burden like this. What should I do?

Even as I thought, the attack drew nearer.

“Ragnar!” 

I shouted.

“Forget about me—protect the two of them! Protect Leon and Iris…!”

Of course, I knew it was impossible for Ragnar to protect everything. With only his own body, there was no way he could handle that kind of overwhelming attack. Even so, I wished at least for Leon and Iris to be saved.

But Ragnar looked at me and smiled quietly.

“You jest. There is no way it would be ‘fine’ for our Leader to take that attack right now.”

Ragnar laid his spear and shield on the ground.

“…Hey, what are you—”

My words froze. Ragnar inhaled deeply once. As he twisted his massive body, the earth groaned faintly, and the air fell silent.

“—Hmph!”

With that shout, his fist shot upward toward the night sky. The action was so absurd that my jaw dropped.

““…Huh?””

The dumbfounded voices were not only mine. Even the monster, so certain of its plan’s success, was shocked. And who could blame it? Ragnar’s punch had such short reach, his arm was still visible before our eyes. There was nothing within striking distance—only empty sky, only darkness, only void.

And yet, that impact tore through the night.

The countless black feathers filling the sky burst apart before they could even touch Ragnar’s fist. Each exploded, glowing red like embers, scattering across the night like stardust.

“As long as this Ragnar draws breath, I will serve as the strongest shield to protect my Leader!”

What exactly did “shield” even mean here? At the very least, countering an attack with an attack was not what a shield was supposed to do. In fact, Ragnar had never been this reckless before.

I had seen him fight in the past. Certainly, he had sent terrifying monsters flying. But what I was witnessing now was on an entirely different scale.

“…So that was Ragnar in his weakened form.”

Back then, Ragnar had been betrayed by his comrades, cast out of his country, and left in the worst mental state imaginable. On top of that, the environment had been dreadful. He had been deprived of proper food and sleep, his body forced beyond its limits.

He had been in a state of extreme debilitation and even then, he had displayed that much strength.

“D-damn it, every single one of them is too strong to be serving under that man!”

Yeah, I do have to agree with you on that point. I mean, I don’t even know why myself. In fact, I’m actually scared of them too.

As I trembled at the scene before me—

“Trying to hurt Master…Again …”

Serra’s muttering—directed at no one in particular—reached my ears.

“Trying to hurt Master…Again …”

Those words flipped Serra’s switch.

“I will never forgive you.”

Serra stomped the ground like an explosion and dashed straight toward it. Like a gale, like lightning—the inevitable footsteps of a reaper closing in.

“You again!?”

It reacted instantly. Just as before, it launched spears of shadow from all directions, trying to block Serra’s path. But Serra did not stop. She didn’t even slash them head-on.

“—!”

She deflected the first with a side kick, using the rebound to leap into the air. She slammed her foot against the side of the second, climbing higher. The third, the fourth—rather than evade them, she used them, accelerating even more.

Her path was like running through the sky. In Serra’s eyes, there was only a single goal, her enemy’s life.

“S-stay away!”

It was terrified. Yes. It was utterly terrified of the very opponent it had so boldly declared it would kill moments earlier.

The miasma quaked through the night sky, and massive amounts of magic poured from its entire body. But it wasn’t an attack.

Sensing death, it instinctively constructed pure defense. The black feathers transformed into layered walls of magic. Multiple layers stacked thick. Breaking through, physically or magically, would be nearly impossible.

“Hah… Haha…! Come, if you think you can!”

It roared as if to convince itself. But Serra said nothing. She simply raised her sword head-on, the blade gleaming with light.

Sword Saint.

That was the name of the skill granted to Serra. The ultimate technique, mastering all sword arts and cloaking the blade in elemental power. A legendary title said to cut fire, cut magic, even sever fate itself.

But—the true terror lay not in its glittering surface. The Sword Saint’s true ability was the power “to cut all that exists in this world.” The laws of physics, the principles of magic, even the rules of causality. An absolute strike that defied all concepts.

Without a word, Serra swung her sword.

“—!”

In that instant, a flash of light streaked across. The wind roared, the sky groaned. The blade of light unleashed from her sword silently cut through every wall that stood before it.

The first barrier tore like paper. The second, the third—layer after layer of defense vanished without resistance as if they had never existed in the first place.

“W-what…!? What’s happening!?”

The monster’s voice trembled in panic. The Sword Saint’s slash went beyond the very act of cutting. It rewrote reality, denying the existence of what it struck.

Love, respect, fury at herself, fury at her foe. All those emotions intermingled, granting her output far beyond normal, even if only temporarily. It was truly a divine sword.

And then—the blade of light reached its body.

“…Ah, the foolish one was—”

Before it could finish its words, it split cleanly in two, soundlessly. Its black body collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut. Its vast magical power spilled onto the earth, then scattered into nothingness.

Nothing remained.

A maid who could have defeated it alone with ease, a warrior who tore open the night sky with a single punch, a Sword Saint who cut down all before her with a single stroke.

And the man who commanded these unmatched warriors. 

I whispered softly into the night.

“…Yeah. I must never go against them.”

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