No to Being the Suffering Heroine!

Lucky me!

Ashel rated her victory like that. She believed she could beat Rabika thanks to all sorts of luck on her side.

First off, the matchup was in her favor.

Rabika’s main tactic was to swing her clawed hands while zapping her opponent with lightning magic in between. In close combat, it was almost unbeatable. Dodging lightning transmitted through claws while clashing weapons was nearly impossible!

However, Ashel specialized in throwing daggers while maintaining distance, so Rabika couldn’t exploit her strengths properly.

I mean, one can’t wrestle if the opponent isn’t willing, right?

As long as they maintained a distance where their limbs couldn’t touch, Rabika was left with only lightning magic as an attack method.

In the end, Rabika had to half-give up on close combat, exhausting her energy as she fought like a magician shooting lightning from afar.

Even though Rabika had advantages in strength, size, and regeneration, Ashel was just a bit faster, making it hard for her to close the gap.

The difference in matchups and the supporting speed gap.

That was the first stroke of luck.

The second stroke of luck was that Ashel happened to have all sorts of gear ready because she took on a tough job recently.

Though she wasted most of that gear during the fight with Rabika, causing significant losses, it ultimately saved her life, which turned out to be a gain in hindsight.

The third stroke of luck was that Rabika was at a sensitive age. This allowed Ashel to easily rattle her opponent’s nerves.

Just insulting her age sent her into a frenzy, making Ashel’s desired blunders happen over and over.

‘…She probably didn’t have a reason to hold back her anger. She must have looked down on me from the start.’

The last stroke of luck was that Ashel had lost to Rabika big time in the past. Because of this, Rabika had been looking down on her.

Even a year past that day, to this very moment, if Rabika hadn’t underestimated Ashel and had been vigilant, she might have figured out the decisive move that determined the outcome in advance.

It was a costly price to pay for underestimating her opponent.

Anyway, thanks to all that luck swinging the situation slowly in Ashel’s favor, she managed to win against Rabika, who was clearly stronger than her.

“Ugh, heh, ugh…!”

…She didn’t look like a winner, though.

◆◆

Rabika crashed into the ground, dead upon impact. Ashel, who had been atop her, bounced off the shock and rolled on the floor.

She kept rolling until she collided with a pillar and let out a “cough!”

“Ugh…”

Ashel curled up like a beetle that had been hit, groaning and trembling for a while.

She had only allowed herself to be hit three times at most.

And one of those was just a glancing blow from the claw, so the actual damage was just two electric shocks.

And those two electric shocks had left Ashel with injuries that would have crippled any human for life.

“Ugh…! Damn it… it hurts like hell…!”

Her left arm was half-burned. Her right arm was broken, and her right leg was charred black.

Thanks to her regeneration, it was slowly healing, but regeneration won’t erase the pain.

The agony of having three limbs almost wrecked was beyond what Ashel had braced herself for. She couldn’t help but spit out curses through gritted teeth.

“Grrr…”

But still, Ashel shivered and got up, shaking despite her broken arm hurting like being poked with a nail every time it moved, and sheer pain flooding her brain just by stepping on the ground.

She had to move.

‘I can’t stay here… I must go…’

She couldn’t remain in the same spot. People who had witnessed the earlier fight would be coming here soon.

She must go. Ena, who ran away on her own, was undoubtedly somewhere hiding and trembling.

It was just a kidnapped orphan that she had cared for a bit and saved from being taken away, but for Ashel, it was worth enduring this agony.

Having escaped from the Beastfolk’s land, even after settling in this city, Ashel couldn’t escape a gutter life, but for her, those orphans were as precious as her own life.

She held on to her nearly shattered self-esteem and dignity by taking care of weaker and more miserable orphans.

It was proof.

Even if her life seemed to have hit rock bottom, seeing those blatantly inferior beings around her proved that her place wasn’t at the bottom.

The reason she made sure to safely leave the orphans and asked Yuron to find them a place for adoption was also that.

As their lives improved, she thought herself to be even more of a remarkable person.

At least, Ashel had been repeatedly telling herself that her efforts in taking care of the orphans were for that reason.

Everyone else was just misunderstanding it; in reality, it was all mere hypocrisy for her own satisfaction.

She wasn’t suffering from misplaced compassion; she just wanted to confirm that she could provide them with something… in other words, to verify her superiority.

‘So… if I took them in, I must take care of them properly… If they die, I’d be labeled as the useless one…?’

That’s why Ashel endured the pain, got up, and staggered out of the half-collapsed ruined building.

And then.

“Oh, I thought maybe, but you really were here. You even look like crap?”

“Yeah, this’ll be easy.”

“I guess there are days when luck’s on your side. How much was she worth again?”

“Dunno… we’ll remember as we go. Said she didn’t care if she got a few scratches, right?”

Ashel found herself facing four riffraff who approached her like they had been waiting.

◆◆

“Damn… who the hell are you…?”

Ashel glared at them, catching her breath roughly.

They were raggedy men who gave off a different vibe than the riffraff she encountered before. They were definitely from the same organization as the three spies she met earlier.

“Don’t need to know. What a pity to hear your foul mouth when you’re laying down.”

Which meant they were her enemies.

“You look pretty hurt. Why don’t you just lay down quietly? Let’s make it comfortable, shall we?”

For Ashel, who could barely walk, this was a bolt from the blue.

Her body was wrecked. The only weapon she had left was the dagger she pulled out from Rabika’s forehead.
With one more enemy than before, this time, she had no chance of winning.

There wouldn’t be any saving hand in this slum filled with trash and vermin.

“Ah… life really sucks…”

Knowing that better than anyone, Ashel grimaced, closing her eyes tight against the rising despair and gritting her teeth.

“…That won’t do.”

Just before a chilling feminine voice, like an ice sculpture, reached her from the opposite direction.

“Huh? What the hell is this crazy bitch doing? Is she not leaving?!”

Another uninvited intruder suddenly piped in.

The four riffraff, who had been sneering and approaching Ashel, wore menacing expressions as they drew their weapons. If kids saw them, they’d probably soil themselves and run away.

‘Who…?’

A lemon scent brushed against her half-numb nose. Leaning against the wall of the ruined building, Ashel looked in the direction of the voice.

Without the expectation that her opponent would help her, she was just ready to identify a new enemy.

“What are you doing? Don’t you know me?”

There stood a knight.

Dressed in dark gray armor with a blood-soaked fur cloak draped over, a sword that looked expensive was strapped at her waist, and a winged helmet adorned her head.

‘Krimhilde…? Why is she here?’

She recognized her immediately.

Oddly enough, only around her helmet felt kind of hazy, but the rest matched the description of ‘Krimhilde’ that Yuron had told her about.

‘That crazy bastard Yuron… Telling me to keep an eye on her…?’

Thus, even in pain, frustration, and despair, Ashel managed a wry smile.

Just the scent alone told her how dangerous this person was.

Just having her in sight instinctively raised the fur on her ears and tail, and made her muscles tense up.

It felt similar to when she faced Raakan, the head of Bagest, right before her.

Even the smell of blood was thicker than Raakan’s.

Ashel was sure: if she fought this woman, even if she were at peak condition, only her head would roll off.

This was the ultimate killer, a monster who had devoted most of her life to nothing but killing.

At least, that’s how it felt to Ashel.

“What the hell is she talking about?”

“Right? Is she some whore from last night? Is she going on a business trip now?”

The riffraff spat out curses and filthy remarks, trying to appear intimidating, yet it was obvious they were nervous and hesitant.

“You crazy bastard… are you seriously making jokes right now?”

“Well, I guess I gotta cancel my ‘lucky’ day. This just got really annoying…”

The other two riffraff, who hadn’t cursed, were biting their lips.

Shadow of the Eagle, Krimhilde.

Just by revealing herself, she was already half-dominating the space.

“All of you beggars must’ve gotten rags stuck in your mouths… Anyway, let me say this just once. I’ll spare you, so get lost. Right now.”

Krimhilde put her hand on the hilt of her sword, warning them that if they didn’t leave immediately, she would kill them.

“If we can only take that chick, we’ll leave.”

One of the riffraff who had been biting his lip cast a glance at Ashel and spoke up. He sneakily hid his left hand behind his back, grabbing the dagger he had concealed at his waist.

“Huh.”

Krimhilde tilted her head, a low laugh escaping as if she found it amusing.

And then—

–Kachik!

A flash of gray light zipped through like lightning.

The riffraff attempting to throw the poisoned dagger collapsed helplessly. Blood gushed from his severed neck.

“I clearly told you. That won’t do.”

Krimhilde replied, having dashed in like lightning to behead one of them, crushing his body underfoot to accompany her statement.

She had come all the way here for that reason.

“I’m taking her with me.”

What she said left Ashel’s face paling even further.

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