Chapter 10: Max STR, Max RES

The heroes were set to receive their grand send-off. Count Naüa handed a sack of gold coins to Four Armaments, which their thief secured within their stash.

Nearby were Fadila and the deflated husk of a man. They watched as the adventurers shared their farewells with the people of E- Naeurl. While their problems were not quite over and done with, this victory had secured more than enough time for the citizens to prepare for their next move.

Fadila hid herself behind Sitri's leg, unsure of how to respond to the guards waving at them from atop the gate. She pulled on his pants to grab his attention.

"Sitri? Yesterday is okay for you? Face looks—"

"I don't want to talk about it." For once, even his words felt heavy. He stood there, watching as Scama received the Count's praise and cheers. Lilynette was at her side too, throwing shifty glances in his direction. Her predatory smirk made him shudder.

"Sitri. Sitri." Fadila insisted on asking, "Why Sitri pick armor woman?"

"What do you mean why!? Because! That goddamn compass! That's who it told me to go after!"

Fadila continued to tug and pull at his pants. "Sitri not look at compass?"

"Huh!?" With saucers overtaking his eye sockets, Sitri watched as Fadila let go of him and pulled out the Compass of Adventure. The needle spun towards Four Armaments. It glowed with its golden hue, pointing right at—

Sitri grabbed the compass and snuffed the life from its needle.

A long and painful silence ensued. After a minute of catatonic anguish, Sitri set both his hands atop his hips and threw his head back. He took in a deep breath and hollered out at the heavens.

"I… obviously planned that from the start! Gahahaha—"

"Sitri. I do not like the lie."

"—hahahahahahahahahaha! Yep! From the start! All planned! Totally what I meant to do!"

Incorrigible. Fadila clicked her tongue in disapproval. Even for Sitri, that boisterous guffaw was unusually long.

Four Armaments eventually settled their matter with the Count. With the team's thief and mage readying their equipment at the main gate, both Scama and Lilynette momentarily delayed their leave. The two women reunited with the silver-gauntlet warrior.

Scama exchanged a subtle glance with Lilynette. She set one foot forward, turning to her pink-haired companion again, before committing to the full step.

"Ahem. Well, then. I suppose this is goodbye for now." A handshake was offered, before Lilynette interrupted.

"Any chance you'd like to join our team, Sitri? Mind you, we'd have to gag your mouth shut, but at least you'll get to see us every day."

Scama cleared her throat. Was she scolding the priestess? Regardless, she still waited to hear out Sitri's answer.

The slight inflection in Lilynette's words was more than enough to remind him of the previous night. Being around that succubus parading as a holy woman sapped him of his life force. His soul sought to escape through his lips. But rather than allow her to torment him further, the warrior blazed through with bravado alone.

"Sure thing! The team is called Four Armaments, right? Ditch those other two guys and you've got a deal!"

The pinkette's gaze met with her leader's and Scama dispelled the inane chatter at once.

"Humorous." Unwilling to entertain the matter any further, Scama raised her hand even higher, now up to the warrior's chest.

Though he'd set his own collar, it broke at the sight of such wondrous femininity.

"Scama! You're just too perfect! You're totally my type!" Instead of shaking her hand, the warrior shackled her between his muscular arms. He hoisted her off her feet, nearly crushing her in her own armor – all whilst igniting her lips with a blazing kiss.

"Hey, idiot. We've got to get going already." Lilynette bonked Sitri on the head with her staff.

Still, she couldn't pry the beast off from her leader. Not until he poured his molten essence down her throat and flooded her chest with his feverish desire. Scama was trapped for nearly a minute of his hellish embrace. Arms pinned to her sides, she fought back through the slight spasms of her fingers.

PWAH—

Her first breath of open air turned to fumes in her mouth, as the volcano he'd lit in her abdomen was set to blow. She pressed her palm against the brute's chest, keeping him at arm's length whilst she battled to quell the fire within her.

"I see that you're… very passionate about my departure…" Scama delivered through piping-hot breaths.

Sitri nodded fiercely.

"I will not forget my promise either. Once I reach Adamantite-rank… I shall come find you."

Nod. Nod. Nod.

Not so much as a blush on Scama's face. Clearly overwhelmed, she nonetheless fought on to maintain her composure – as if this, too, was merely her duty. An unconventional handshake from an unconventional man: nothing more. Turning on her heels, Scama donned her helmet – its visor covering her wet lips.

"Bad, bad little boy. Don't you dare misbehave around other girls again, or else." Her cat-grin was her farewell. Lilynette headed off, teasing her voluptuous figure beneath the thin curtains of her holy habit.

Four Armaments left the city as heroes, well-rewarded for their efforts and one step closer to promotion. They'd overcome the odds and survived against the undead – gaining irreplaceable experience and strength as a result.

Arms crossed, Sitri relished the lingering taste of Scama's lips. "This was really weird. I can't tell if I won or lost."

"Think Sitri not always win. But never lose."

Those words lit ferociousness across his face. "Absolutely! I mean, I totally planned all that, but yeah! Doesn't matter, since I never lose! Which is better than always winning! Alright, Fadila! Point us towards our next destination!"

Little goblin fingers held onto the prized item. Sitri took the Compass of Adventure and sung its praises once more.

"Eternal companion, trailblazer of passion and lust! You work in mysterious ways, though have never once led me astray! To say you're my ally would be an understatement. You are an extension of my soul, my heart! And thus, I beseech you, ignited by the flames of hell! Guide me to… someone really cute and adorable that won't bully me around like that crazy priestess did! Gaaah! Mercy this time, please!"

Sitri had almost tumbled to his knees. After handing the compass over to Fadila, she followed its needle until it stopped southwards. "Through capital again?"

"Huh. You know, I actually wouldn't mind heading elsewhere first. If we're going to end up passing through the capital anyway."

"Where, Sitri?"

"How about that Theocracy place! Or the Empire we heard about – where they have colosseum battles! That might be fun!"

"You can go. I come too?"

"Gahahaha! Of course you can! You have to! What if the compass changes its mind? Yep, you have to be there!"

Hearing that, Fadila hid a blush behind her staff.

The indomitable wayfarer quickly bounced back after his ordeal. Sitri set his sights on the horizon, towards the plains where over a thousand undead had been purged. At the opposite gate, a silver-haired woman nurtured his flames in her heart, whilst a priestess carried his mark within.

"Gahahaha! The beautiful women of this new world await! Onward!"

.

..

...

..

.

" Dig. That. Face. —

—Ain't see nothing like it—A~ny. Place.

Her body's got a silver sheen— If you know what I meaaan! "

Sitri was happy enough to sing, which comforted Fadila. The two crossed the ravaged plains of war, charred corpses littering the soil. Countless villagers had lost their lives, their suffering prolonged through unholy magic.

" Parapa. Papapa. "

Pulled from his tune by a passing thought, Sitri announced, "Enri! I should go and visit her! It's been a while and she's a really good girl. Yeah. On our way to the East, we should definitely stop there."

"Goblin village?" Fadila's ears perked up.

"That's the one! I know you're a big fan of it, so consider it a reward from yours truly."

The gobliness celebrated with a light spring in her step.

Together, the pair followed the road southwards. Just as they'd crossed the burnt fields of war, a shadow leapt from the nearby forest. Sitri caught sight of them from the corner of his eye.

Fadila froze.

Panic seized her very existence. Paralyzed with terror – after a mere split-second glimpse of those green and blue eyes staring in her direction. Where had it come from? How did it move so fast?

"Ah! Cute!" Sitri enthused with open arms, "Look at those ears! Cute! Cute! Cute! I want to nibble on them!" He continued to leisurely stroll forward—

—before Fadila's shriek halted his steps. "Sitri!"

The warrior stopped and palmed his neck with his steely hand. There was nothing that drew his ire more than seriousness and drama.

"Don't shout like you're about to die! You know I hate that! Now apologize! Apologize to me right now, you dummy!"

Fadila sucked in more air through her sharp fangs to steady her breathing. Her body quaked. "S-Sorry… Apology for shouting."

"Um. Excuse me…"

—The voice of a child. A timbre barely strong enough to withstand a gust of wind. Were this child to raise their voice, could they even do so without it cracking? Their skin looked soft as caramel, emphasized along their healthy, semi-exposed thighs. A most dangerous area, situated beneath the hem of their skirt and the top of their white socks. Their long, elven ears drooped down and their knees turned inwards in a meek display of their unease. Docile and endearing: a kitten clad in a blue, scaly leather full-body suit. Atop which this little elf wore a white vest and matching skirt. Silken gloves covered up their dainty digits, which held onto a twisted, darkwood staff.

"…I need to ask you some questions. You're the mister who was at Carne Village two months ago, correct? U-Um… S-Si-Sit-"

"Yep! That's me! Sitri! What, are you a fan? You're definitely cute enough, so that's fine by me!"

Those beautifully mismatched eyes sparkled with joy. The elf's golden mane was cut in a hime-style at the front, the forelocks on both sides hanging down to their neck, ultimately giving them the appearance of wearing a cute helmet of gold from which their long, pointy ears peeked out.

"What a relief! That's so good to hear! Phew. Um… I can't answer any of your questions until I'm done with mine. S-Sorry." Their terms set, the elf slid their hand under their vest and pulled out a scroll. Unfurled, it revealed a unique-looking red and black crest. A circular ring pierced by some kind of dagger, or sword? Spiked wings at the edges. All in all a peculiar thing, which no one was expected to decipher.

"Do you recognize this symbol?"

Sitri turned pensive. He stared at the symbol and clicked his tongue a few times, then tapped his chin.

"I euh… Floating around. Something to do with, like… I don't know. I can recall a vague sense of embarrassment looking at it."

"Embarrassment…?" The elf's eyes clouded themselves with silent rage.

"B-Because of how nothing else was as awesome! Hell yeah! The amount of people who even tried to have a symbol half as cool and failed? Yep. That thing stands out. It definitely does."

Glee overtook the adorable elf's face, "Y-Yes! So you recognize it!"

"Kinda? I'll answer maybe. Yeah, let's go with that. Maybe."

"Maybe? I need a better answer, please…"

"I mean it feels so vague to me. Let's come back to it later. Next question!"

Unsure of how to proceed, the elf gripped their staff and looked down at their feet. Their eyes grew wet, as though on the verge of tears.

"Gah! Don't cry! Don't cry, okay! I don't recognize it. That's my answer."

"O-Oh. I see. Sniffle. What about the name Momonga?"

In an unexpected turn, Sitri arched his spine backwards. He ground his scalp with his hands and quickly rubbed them back and forth.

"That name! Say it again!"

"M-Momonga!"

"No, no. Say it slower and like you're unsure of yourself."

"M-Momooooongaaa?"

"Ah! I almost had it there, but… euh… nope. It rings a bell, but I can't remember it right now."

"A-Aww…"

"Sorry, little elf girl. I could hug you if it'll make you feel better?"

"N-Next question!" Whatever this was, it wasn't stopping. The elf stood right in front of Sitri's path. Their diminutive frame made them barely an inconvenience to walk aside, let alone an obstacle. However, the pressure surrounding them was inescapable. So strong that Fadila had forgotten to breathe. Whatever this was, Sitri could not skip past this encounter. He knew it as well. Though his stance was impossibly relaxed, his hands perpetual ornaments for his hips, every ounce of his focus was fixated upon the blonde elf. An elf which had no interest in his hugs.

Whoever this was, they ignored his offer and braced for the next round of their interrogation. "Have you heard the name Ainz Ooal Gown?"

"Isn't that the name of the Sorcerer King people keep talking about? I haven't been paying attention, but that's it, right?"

"M-Maybe… I can't give you any hints. Is that all the name means to you?"

"You know what… Can you try saying it three times really fast? I think that might jog my memory."

Looking dubious, the elf still pursed their lips and tried, "H-Here goes! Ainz Ooal Gown! Ainz Ooal Gown! Ainz Ooal Gown!"

Sitri struck the crook of his palm with his silver gauntlet. His brow narrowed in thought and his features widened, "Yeah! Yeah! A few more times! I'm remembering something!"

"Ainz Ooal Gown! Ainz Ooal Gown! Ainz Ooal Gown! Ainz Ooal Gown! Ainz Ooal G—owie." The elf stopped after lightly biting down on their tongue.

"AinzOoalGown… Mine's known goal?" Sitri mouthed each syllable a few more times, his tongue tasting the answer he sought, but alas. "Sorry. I was really close to figuring something out thanks to you, but it slipped. No clue."

"Oh no… This isn't going too well, b-but I won't give up! Um… M-Mister Sitri, this one is important. Are you a Player?"

Now that question, he didn't expect. Sitri blared out with laughter, his arms sliding tight and taut under his pectoral muscles. "Well, I mean, I wouldn't exactly call myself a player. Sure I've had a few positive experiences with women, but they still turn me down, you know! I think if I walked up to a random girl and asked her out, she'd probably just say no. I'd have to hunt her for it."

But the elf shook their head – nothing about his answer made sense. "Um… I'm not sure I understand, but I can't give you any hints. Are you a Player?"

"What, like a Casanova?" Sitri turned to Fadila, who was unable to provide any help. "These questions are tough. I'm going to say no. Yeah, lock that in as my answer."

"N-No…? But…" The elf had no choice but to press on. "N-Next question! Why didn't you tell anyone about what you saw in C-Carne Village? About, um… the adventurer Momon?"

"Oh. That. How the hell do you know about that?" Pressing the elf for answers yielded no result. For someone so very meek, they certainly were fiercely determined, their hands clutching onto the staff as though their sole refuge in a hurricane. "Listen, if a skeleton wants to roleplay as an adventurer, that's none of my concern. It'd be like if a demon went around pretending he's a human and seducing cute girls. People are free to do as they please and I don't go around spoiling other people's fun. Unless it's getting in the way of my fun that is! Gahahaha!"

"Hmm…" The elf squirmed in place. They wiggled their hips side to side, thinking as hard as they could.

Sitri stared in silence. Behind him, Fadila did not fathom how one addressed that being in such a casual manner. Sitri was idly chatting away with his judge, jury and executioner, unaware of the guillotine hanging above his head.

—And after a minute of pondering, the blade fell.

"M-My name is Mare Bello Fiore and… well, I'm supposed to kill you now." Mare clutched his staff and moved forward.

"Kill!? Hey, wait a second!" Sitri waved his arms up and down, spinning out the first thought which came to his head. The confidence with which this death-dealer approached him sent his instincts into overdrive. "All my answers were conveniently no, right? I mean, there's a reason why I did that!"

Mare tilted his head and paused for a moment. "A-A reason?"

"Yep! A reason! A super important and obvious reason that anyone would clearly figure out without me having to spell it out for them!"

Wink. Wink. Sitri pointed at the little gobliness behind his back, immediately adding, "And don't you dare say something edgy like you're going to kill her for being around! Just let her go and I'll answer your questions for real."

"Mm…" Mare's head ticked like a gentle metronome. Back and forth. Back and forth. Thinking. Questioning. Looking at Sitri, then back at Fadila.

An eternity of anguish later, the elf announced, "Okay!"

Those words carried immense power, which annoyed the warrior. He acted fast and granted Fadila as much distance as possible from the elf. Resting his hand atop Fadila's head, Sitri gave her green dome several soft pats while dissimulating her behind his powerful frame.

"Fadila, I'll meet up with you in Enri's village, alright?"

"Sitri—"

"Save it for later. Don't say another word or try to make this into a big thing. Keep our stuff, alright? I'll make it back there. Or I won't. It'll be one of those two things."

There was a mountain of things Fadila wanted to express, but her little goblin tongue lacked both the knowledge or the skill to convey it in human words. Before Fadila left, she snuck in a certain item in Sitri's pocket.

The Compass of Adventure.

"Maybe one time… It point me?" Her large, golden eyes sought out his.

Which Sitri reciprocated without hesitation He shared a secret of his. "Dummy… That's how this whole thing started out…"

Leaving his companion with those words and a tender caress, Sitri waited until Fadila was out of sight. After several minutes, she faded in the distance.

The warrior and the elf remained.

The dialogue resumed, which meant there was still a chance to resolve this. Sitri once again took center stage. He joined back with the elf, both of them standing just a few yards away from the fields of war. The forest acted as their cover, which meant no one from E-Naeurl could see them. But that much didn't bother the warrior at all! Out of sight, he could finally put on a show for his companion. The elf had already fed him information in droves. To exist in front of Sitri. To speak, look, anger or smile was akin to a feast of knowledge about one's very soul.

A few things were apparent about this little elf, including the fact that—

This cute elf chick is a total pushover! They're too easy to bully! There's no way I'll be able to do that on my own, but if I can just let them see a glimpse of someone who can bully them, I'm set!

"Alright! Listen up, you adorable cutie patootie elf whose ears I totally want to suck on and lick like chocolate popsicles! You've got your mission, you have your orders and you want to make your boss happy, right?"

"Y-Yes!"

"Is there any way for me to change the answer to one of the previous questions?"

"U-Um… I'm afraid not. Since it would be too easy to lie in that case."

But Sitri was undeterred. He clapped his palms together, flesh striking steel and pointed at Mare. "Gahahaha! That's totally fine! Now watch this! I'm going to blow your mind! I'm going to answer a question you didn't even think of asking me! I'll answer it so well, it'll make your boss a million times happier! They'll be super proud of you and will pat your head all day because of it!"

"W-Whoa!" And sure enough, Mare was baited in. "H-How do we do that, mister?"

"Check it out. Those names you were asking me about. Ainz Ooal Gown and Momonga. They're connected, right? It's okay! Don't bother answering yet, I don't want you to get in trouble for giving me any hints."

Mare covered up his mouth just in time. He was about to spill the answer from how excited Sitri's words made him. Instead, the little elf knit his brow to show his resolve and signaled yes.

"Well, I can confidently tell you, there are more of those names! Also very important!"

Mare's face was an open book. Sitri saw his eyes glimmer, which had become his only lifeline.

"Right. Now, how about you tell me a few of those names, and one of them I'll recognize right away."

Thus, Sitri revealed his ultimate plan. He'd noticed the pride and joy in Mare's eyes whilst he spoke those names out loud, and surely there must've been more. Amongst the words he heard, one of them – one of them would give him a chance at spinning his lie. At weaving such dexterous deceit, that even Mare would fall for the subterfuge. His knowledge ran vast and deep. So, one of them.

One of those names.

One of those words would grant him an opening.

One of them would allow him to seize his hand out towards the skies and clasp the star of hope betwixt his steely claws.

It had to!

It would all come down to timing and technique.

"Hehe! Okay, there's L-L-Lady Bukubukuchagama!"

Sitri waited. Mare's eyes clouded over.

An important name had passed. Gone. And gone was Sitri's chance at capitalizing on it. The gamble upon which he'd bet his life featured an unknown number of rolls. It could be a hundred or it could be ten. He navigated in utter darkness – and should the last roll come and go without an opportunity, so would the blade fall once more. Would he be able to catch it?

There was no time to think.

"T-Tabula Smaragdina! Peroroncino!"

Two more names went by. Nothing. And the elf was trying his best to conceal his deep and profound respect for those names. Sitri noticed how much they struggled with enunciating those sounds, as though they had always been preceded by a grandiose title. It reminded him of that adventurer duo.

Meanwhile, a bitter cocktail brewed within Mare, "Herohero! Nishikienrai! Yamaiko! Flatfoot Ulbert Alain Odle. Variable Taslisman. Amanomahitotsu."

Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.

How many had passed? How many were left?

Nothing. Sitri had nothing.

Some of those names vaguely made sense, but others seemed like a mishmash of sounds. He needed to act soon. Upon hearing the last name, his fate would be sealed.

For Mare, the exercise had become sheer torture. How could not a single one of those names be recognized? In the end, killing the man before him would make no difference at all.

"Blue Planet… Nearata… Nubo… Genjiro… Luci†Fer…"

L-Lucifer!?

Sitri's eyes surged. This was it. Anyone with a basic understanding of Hell's hierarchy could spin a proper lie with that name, especially a demon! There was a reason he'd called himself Sitri after all, but what was that odd pause in the middle? No. He couldn't let this chance pass. Should his unshakable confidence result in a misfire, then it'd be death either way.

And yet...

Nothing.

He couldn't bring himself to do it. Too convenient, too noticeable, too fitting. This was a man's lie, nothing more. And rather than embrace the lie of a common man, Sitri preferred to embrace his own death.

Just in time too. Mare had now lost all hope. They muttered the final names, tightening the hold on their staff.

"Shizyuutensuzaku… Touch Me…"

Existence had come to a halt.

A gust of wind blew across Sitri's face, sending him out of this moment. Out of this forest, out of this world: twelve years in the past. Those dark times could truly be called hell on earth for most. A time where happiness was drained from mankind. A dystopia which reviled the word freedom.

From the passionate beat of his fiery heart all the way to the neurones in his brain, sparks of euphoria burst within him. His vision flashed in a pure, brilliant white.

He'd just seen it, a demon's greatest lie.

"W-World…

...

...….

...….….….

...Champion."

Truth.

"E-Eh!?" Mare stopped; his ears twitched.

"World Champion." Sitri repeated. "Touch Me."

Another flash: he envisioned it. Radiance belonging to a silver paladin. An azure gem shined on his chest-plate. One whose skills and abilities could've even inspired the demon to wear the same silver color for his only weapon. No more than a handful of champions had existed across YGGDRASIL, and their names were etched into the game's eternity as legends.

"Y-Yes! That's right! Y-You're correct! Sir Touch Me was—"

"The Paladin of Pure Silver. One of the strongest warriors we had in YGGDRASIL. Strong enough to perfect parry bosses and counter them without taking a hit. Kh…! His style was so cool! Yeah. He's a legend."

Mare beamed at hearing such genuine praise. Every sound coming out of Sitri's lips rung true. Hearing someone recount those memories swelled his being with happiness. The elf was sure of it now, this told him everything he needed to know.

A perfect grade on his exam, and no one would ever know that Sitri cheated.

"L-Lord Ainz will be so happy! He'll want to hear it directly from you! U-Um, Mister Sitri, here!"

The little elf hopped towards him – happy as a bunny. Not only were his ears all perked up and fluttering, but this little bunny had a present for Sitri. In Mare's hand was a copper wrought ring with a sizable onyx gem embedded at the center.

"Hm? What's this? Are we getting married?"

Mare blushed and shook his head. "N-No! Bully… This is um… so you won't die! Hehe~ I still have to test your strength now, just to see if you might be a threat or not! Please put it on!"

The pressure intensified, as though the oxygen around them had been replaced with iron.

Suffocating.

"Test my strength… You know what, I'd rather not. You, Mare! You were nice enough to let my companion go! Gahahaha! That makes us friends now! Yep, we're friends, buddies! Let's hug and kiss instead! Besides, that ring wouldn't work on me even if I put it on, so why don't we smo—"

"Eeeey!"

Mare swung his staff at Sitri. The sky came crashing down as well.

CLANG!

"Ghhk-!?"

Pain.

A violent surge of pain rang across Sitri's arm. He'd been struck by an unthinkable force – barely able to block the attack in time. The price he paid for getting in the way of Mare's staff was an ache the likes of which he'd never felt before, threatening to make his arm explode.

"W-Wow! I thought your arm would break! I've never met a human this tough! Um, will you please put the ring on now? I'd rather not take any risks!"

"That was… Euh… Okay. Are you sure we need this test?" Sitri was shaken to his core. Literally rattled throughout his spine, he had to shatter the seriousness carved into his brow and reclaim his usual nonchalance, "Because I'm like… 98% confident you could easily crush me!"

"W-Well…" Mare nervously kicked up dirt with the tip of his boot, "The truth is… this is also punishment from what Lord Ainz said. For d-doing naughty things to one of our friends. But it's okay! I'm sure that we'll be able to get along after I'm done with your punishment!"

"Mare, come on now. Punishment? I mean…" Sitri raised his hands in a defensive guard once he saw the innocent expression matching his demeanor.

His right arm pulsed as he clenched his fist, sending vicious vibrations into his brain. That smile on Mare's face. There was no talking the elf down anymore. They were convinced this was the way to go.

"That ring won't work on me."

"Okay! I'll do my best not to kill you then!" And Mare swung for Sitri's left side. His staff sliced through the air with the fury of nature itself.

CA-KLANG!

Sitri was a split-second away from having his ribcage broken. Another blow fended off, but this time—

"Nh…!" There was nothing he could do about it. Mare had swung for his bare hand. His hardened fist had to intercept the attack. As a result, two of his fingers broke from the impact.

That elf boy was the strongest being he'd ever faced. No, there was no doubt about it. Mare was much too strong for Sitri to properly block. If anything, the warrior had never invested much in his defense – which Mare easily obliterated through.

"Y-You're welcome to attack me too. This is supposed to be a test and a punishment at the same time!"

Sitri held onto his habitual smile, "I get it now. With how strong you are, you could've easily killed my goblin friend in the blink of an eye. Despite that, you let her go; it's only fair I repay the kindness. Also, your body is totally cute, so I don't want to leave any marks on it!"

"C-Cute…" Mare's cheeks turned pink.

During that brief respite, Sitri shook his right hand to mitigate the pain – which did nothing to help. The throb of two broken bones warned his mind to never again block those attacks. That if he missed his window by a fly's wing – his body would be shattered. Those signals wouldn't stop. Alarm bells rang and wracked his senses with searing waves of nausea.

"Here I come…! Ey!"

An overhead swing shadowed his field of view. That elf's weapon was no staff – it hit like the forge god's hammer.

Dodge. Dodge. He had to dodge!

CLUNK!

Sitri refused to avoid the attack. Something else broke. His knuckles? Or was that his wrist bone?

No time to think, Mare went back to swinging.

CLANG! CLANG! KA-CLANG!

Pain was cruel. Pain was unforgiving. Even in the New World, hits to one's HP bar felt like the pound of a mallet against the skull. After several minutes of trading blows with Mare, the outcome was all too obvious.

Sitri had no chance of blocking his attacker. His left fist had turned a nauseating shade of purple. His right arm was both red and black around his shoulder. He opened his mouth to spit out the acrid bile flooding his throat.

His vision began to blur, shots of adrenaline numbing the pain at the cost of his mental focus.

Nothing, huh? No gear. No skills. No abilities. No HP regen either.

His curse. His price to pay. The cost of being branded a cheater. No spell would ever cure those wounds. No blessing could erase his pain.

But what hurt Sitri most was – the fall. Each blow broke away at his body. Chipped away at his ability to stand, strike, counter.

Yet, the pain would not change him.

Doesn't matter. I-I'm not going back to thinking like that… ever. Not ever again. This world is different. This is…

His left arm convulsed and his vision pulsed red. The damage to his sinews and flesh were all internalized. His discolored skin alone testified to the torment he endured.

…Ha. No. This world is the best. So I won't ever mistake it for anything less. If it's paradise, then it's my paradise to corrupt. And if it's hell… then I'm right at home.

A trickle of blood seeped from the corner of his lips. Sitri quickly wiped it away, staining his gauntlet with red.

Mare was both amazed and concerned, "T-This sure is tough! S-Since you're still standing Mister Sitri, I'm going to finish this off with everything I've got! Eeey! I'm ready! Ey! Ey! Ey!" The elf even chanted and pumped his fist in celebration.

Sitri shook his head and braced himself for the so-called end. He wouldn't able to last any longer than this. His arms would give: his only weapons disabled.

Run? Flee? Dodge?

Never.

He was this close. This close to grasping it.

Mare slid his grip lower along the staff, now fully brandishing it as a weapon of blunt and crushing destruction. The elf took limber, careful steps towards Sitri and sentenced him to suffering.

The elf was no martial artist and no sword fighter. He possessed ridiculous physical strength, but little to no technique beyond bludgeoning his opponent.

A strike to my left—

CLUNK!

Sitri sacrificed his bare fist to stop it. He could no longer clench his fingers.

Let me guess. Gonna go for my right, are you?

Mare swung—

CLANG!

His right hand endured, protected by the only piece of gear he was allowed to keep in this new world. Finally, Mare gathered all his strength in both arms and raised his staff as high as he could. An overhead finisher – the most cliché of three-hit combos.

"Eeeeey!"

The sheer air-force from that final hit shed every blade of grass in a hundred-meter radius. The most predictable attack imaginable. As the earth's fury descended to cave in his skull, Sitri tucked in his elbow, locked in his final silver bullet and ducked down.

Watch this, you cute elf. If I survive this, I'm definitely making you my woman!

Using every ounce of power in his legs, he thrust his steeled fist into an uppercut. Launched with everything he had, the silver strike collided with Mare's staff.

Out of sheer pride, out of arrogance, as a final rejection of his suffering: their forces met, lasting for just an instant before Sitri blew Mare's arms back over his head.

The shadows were dispelled. A clear sky hung above him. Sitri looked towards the heavens, and a vermillion star twinkled.

"Max STR. Max RES."

A perfect strength-based parry. It left Mare completely open. Unharmed, uninjured, but defenseless.

Sitri's knees gave out. He reached his silver gauntlet out towards Mare and—

Swoosh!

—flipped the elf's skirt.

"K-Kyah!"

His pupils widened as he laid eyes on the cruel truth shaped out in Mare's panties.

...….….….I should've kicked his ass.

CRACK!