* * *

Ainsha stood alone, facing several hundred White Dragon Clan monks. Naturally, it was the monks who moved first.

Their purpose was to obstruct the pursuit, but preventing Limon from finding clues was not their only reason for attacking. They all knew the future that awaited them: unless they attacked now, they would never even get a chance to fight.

BOOM!

The first thing to come flying at her was a shock wave. Psionics poured from the robes of ten monks as they swept them through the air, layering together and surging forward like a wave.

Blades followed. Dozens of monks charged like arrows behind the torrent of psionics, swords, spears, and sabers leading the way.

A bulwark supported them from behind. The remaining monks clustered into formation, bringing their psionics into resonance as they prepared to intercept whatever came their way.

Compared with the monks' perfectly coordinated movements, Ainsha's response was simple. Without changing expression, she opened one hand. The gesture looked neither threatening nor powerful. But what happened when she closed that hand was anything but simple.

KABOOOOM!

Pure white light shimmered for an instant, and a snow-white barrier burst up as though rising from the ground, scattering the incoming wave of psionics. The monks charging with spears and blades leaped to clear it, but that was merely wishful thinking.

The instant Ainsha turned her hand over, the barrier broke apart and transformed into dozens of birds of light that flew straight at them.

Only a handful of monks managed to intercept the birds streaking toward them like rays of light. Even those who cut them down with their weapons met the same fate: the birds dispersed in midair, re-formed, and rammed them, sending them falling as they coughed up blood.

Through the figures tumbling down like pinecones, the birds of light flew relentlessly toward the remaining monks. But they did not panic. As though they had already foreseen this, they swung their hands and weapons, loading each strike with the psionics they had amplified in advance.

RRRUMBLE!

Blasts from palms, fists, fingers, and swords swept through the air. Dozens of psionic strikes became a storm of Psychokinesis capable of tearing through iron, battering the birds.

The birds' radiance shattered. What appeared in its place was thread. As the psionics dispersed, hundreds upon thousands of exceedingly fine strands, intertwined into the shapes of birds, revealed their true forms.

The moment that opening appeared, the monks struck down by the birds charged at Ainsha again, blood still staining their mouths. Just as their visions had shown them, they seized their only chance to get close to her.

But she had foreseen this situation too. And so she moved the one finger she had deliberately held in reserve. Amplified by psionics, that minute movement delicately controlled the dozens of threads wound around it according to the Heavenly Net Shaping Style.

The threads intertwined into the shapes of cattle. Psionics infused those shapes, and three cattle enveloped in pure white radiance charged at the monks as though alive. Then came the collision.

BANG! BOOM! THUD!

Already suffering internal injuries from the first exchange, the monks failed to dodge the charge and were flung away. They slashed at the cattle with their weapons, but the psionic-infused threads were both supple and strong, deflecting every attack.

Another incoming storm of psionics saved the cornered monks. As the Psychokinesis unleashed by dozens of their comrades canceled out the psionics within the threads and slowed the cattle, three remaining monks finally evaded the charge and reached Ainsha.

They were no ordinary trio. Each was a master of unit-captain caliber. The three most skilled monks among the hundred-odd White Dragon Clan members gathered here swung their weapons at Ainsha.

CLANG-CLANG!

But their efforts were futile. The moment Ainsha spread her cardigan, its ordinary fabric became as solid as an impregnable fortress and deflected their weapons. The cardigan rippled, releasing a wave of psionics that swept over all three monks at once.

"Gah!"

"Urgh!"

The stormlike psionics erupting right in front of them battered their organs, flinging all three monks away as they vomited blood. Ainsha did not even spare them a glance. She merely watched the next incoming storm of psionics, expressionless.

"This is bothersome. I will finish it in one blow."

Just as she had foreseen before the fight, Ainsha clenched her fist. Through her fingers, she channeled the psionics of the two martial schools flowing through her cardigan into hundreds of threads. The strands intertwined with exquisite precision, forming a hundred weapons in midair.

『Seventy-Two Martial Schools: Three Supreme Arts

Seventy-Two Martial Schools: Three Supreme Arts

White Weapons Rising

White Weapons Rising』

Swords, sabers, spears, halberds, axes, battle-axes, maces, and more. The hundred weapons, each a different shape and glowing pure white, were less weapons than furnaces of psionics. The mere force of their creation burned away the psionics the monks had launched.

TAP-TAP-TAP!

Was it because they sensed that immense power? Or was it an instinctive sense of danger? Standing in orderly ranks and files, the monks pressed their hands against the backs of those in front of them and poured in their psionics.

Forward, forward, and forward again. The psionics of dozens flowed like waves, concentrating within the ten at the very front.

Forced to take in psionics beyond their limits, the ten monks' veins bulged all over their bodies, blood pouring from their noses and eyes. But they did not stop the flow. As though wringing out their very lives, they swept their robes through the air with every last scrap of psionics they possessed.

The waves of psionics raised by the ten monks piled atop one another and surged forward like a tidal wave, sweeping away everything in their path. Watching expressionlessly, Ainsha twitched her fingers and sent her hundred weapons flying toward it.

KABOOOOOOOOM!

The ending decided before the battle even began had come for them.

* * *

'Something still bothers me.'

While Ainsha fought that fierce one-against-a-hundred battle against her own clan, Limon was paying it not the slightest attention. He focused solely on his thoughts. Giving any attention to expendable pawns stationed there to obstruct the pursuit and buy time would only play into his opponent's hands.

That was precisely why he was able to sense something suspicious.

'I just can't make sense of it.'

Something had felt off from the beginning—an inexplicable unease. It had grown clearer the farther he followed Tata's trail, and the moment he saw the burning briefcase, it became a more definite intuition.

'A second-in-command betrays the leader to gain more. So what does this girl's nanny stand to gain?'

Money or power? Absolute supremacy? That might be possible in another organization. But not in the Seven Dragons Society.

It was not merely that the other clans would never stand by and tolerate such a rebellion. Unlike run-of-the-mill royalty, the Seven Dragons Society's princesses were utterly irreplaceable. Quite apart from their martial strength or legitimacy, the seven princesses were virtually the Society's very reason for existing.

That was why even Li Qingyu, who had sold off nearly half her clan's assets, had lost their trust and support but never faced an actual rebellion. In that respect, the White Dragon Clan's betrayal was mysterious in more ways than one.

'What could they even accomplish by betraying her?'

'There can't be that many White Dragon Clan members in this country anyway.'

'With those numbers, the most they could do would be...'

'... Don't tell me?'

Limon frowned. Thinking in terms of their capabilities rather than their objective had suddenly brought something to mind. It was less a deduction grounded in clear evidence than a vague, hazy premonition born of considering the worst possible scenario.

But seasoned veteran that he was, Limon did not ignore his instincts. Instead, he took out his smartphone and placed a call to check whether his hunch was right.

"Hey, it's me."

"There's something I need you to check right away."

"Yes, right this instant. After what I've done for you, you're not going to tell me you're too busy, are you?"

"What I need is..."

"..."

"... That's all I needed."

After finishing the short call, Limon put away his smartphone. Following a brief silence, he murmured quietly, "I see. So that's what this was?"

"Question. I would like to know what 'this' is."

"You're done already?"

"I finished quite some time ago."

Ainsha spoke up as though she had been waiting. Limon turned toward her without thinking, then frowned at the scene behind the white-haired girl standing upright like a stuffed rabbit.

"... Didn't I tell you not to kill them?"

"You did. So I did not kill them. I only beat them."

"So it's fine as long as they're alive, even in that state? What beautifully tidy logic."

Limon clicked his tongue. With broken limbs or blood pouring relentlessly from their mouths, every one of the hundred-odd White Dragon Clan members lay insensible. They were practically half-dead.

Of course, subduing them all without killing a single one was impressive in itself. But that depended on who the opponents were. To Limon, who knew the seven princesses' capabilities better than anyone, this looked like burning every scrap of garbage because cleaning up was too much trouble. Granted, there had probably been some punishment for their betrayal mixed in as well.

"But if you were finished, why were you just standing there watching instead of saying something?"

"Because I could not see clearly."

"What?"

"... It is nothing."

Ainsha answered expressionlessly. Yet her eyes remained fixed steadily on Limon.

'It really is strange.'

When facing the monks, she had been able to see the future as clearly as if she were reading ahead in a book. Why, then, did her precognition blur whenever she looked at him? Ainsha tilted her head at the unanswered question.

After regarding her suspiciously, Limon let it go and turned away.

"Well, if you're done, that's good timing. I was just about to do what you wanted anyway."

"Understood. I will kill them all."

"... Not that. The other thing."

"...?"

Ainsha tipped her head slightly, as though wondering what else she could possibly want besides dealing with the traitors. Limon chuckled at the sight. Then he suddenly reached out and pulled her toward him.

The action was so unexpected that Ainsha found herself in his arms without putting up any resistance. Only belatedly did she speak, her face still expressionless.

"I am surprised. Startled. I am considering whether I should slap you."

"Stay still. I'm not used to this power yet, so I can't take you along unless we're pressed close together."

Ainsha blinked, unable to understand what he meant, but Limon did not bother explaining aloud. He merely took a light step forward with her in his arms.

The scenery changed with every step. After passing through several people and places, he finally stopped. Ainsha had no choice but to admit that this was indeed 'what she had wanted.'

"... Your Highness, what an indecent sight is this?"

"... You are the last person I want to hear that from, Tata."

Except, that is, for the fact that appearing before Tata in Limon's arms, with her legs and face fully exposed, had earned her a scolding delivered with a look of utter disbelief.