Translator: Nox

Erika: My Friend Is Obsessed with Me

Chapter 15

Erica - When a Friend Becomes Obsessed with Me

I let out a deliberate sigh to hide the strange feeling bubbling up inside me.

Needless to say, throwing the whole approval process to the dogs and barging in without permission was the most fun.

Because fun was everything.

Because it was just so exhilarating.

“Get your hand off me.”

Smack.

I slapped Chaud’s hand away with considerable force and stood up from the grass.

“I know where it is too.”

Standing tall, I looked toward the sky in the opposite direction. A pitch-black cave was visible at the edge of the high cliff.

I reached behind my back and ran my fingers along the bow stave.

If our retreat got cut off and we couldn't get out like the Lygis Knights years ago, we’d end up dead right then and there—but you never knew until you threw yourself into it.

Anticipation and adrenaline surged at the thought of the unfamiliar battle ahead.

It already felt thrilling.

* * *

“Shiiit—!”

“Erica, keep it down! They're all following us!”

“Your voice is louder!”

We’re screwed!

The mother wyverns were in a frenzy, taking to the air in thick swarms above the nest.

Flap!

Flap, flap, flap!

The sound of beating wings tangled into an ear-grating, spine-chilling roar. There were simply too many of them.

We had sneaked into the nest full of confidence, only to be spotted immediately, and now we were running for our lives.

Tap! Ta-ta-tap!

Even while sprinting, I seized every split-second window, aiming and loosing arrows in rapid succession.

Fwip—

Thwack!

“Screeeech—!!”

Fwip—

Thwack!

“Gwaaak! Kreeeech—!!”

Every single shot found its mark!

Erica’s spirits soared at her pinpoint accuracy.

Amid the nail-biting tension, her nerves tingled with sheer exhilaration.

Creeeak— Even as she drew her bowstring taut, the corners of her lips refused to go down.

There were no mistakes; not a single arrow missed.

And yet, despite that, their numbers didn't dwindle in the slightest.

“Chaud! There are way too many! I think we’re screwed!”

Cold sweat had begun drenching her back for real a moment ago, prompting her shout.

Yet Chaud merely let out a low, rumbling chuckle in his throat.

He's laughing?

“Stop smirking, you jerk—Chaud, behind you!”

Thump!

Slash, thud!

Though it was a massive wyvern, it dropped dead in an instant under Chaud’s strike.

Slash—! He butchered another wyvern right beside it.

Splaaash—!

Crimson sprayed like seafoam.

Drenched head-to-toe in blood, Chaud wiped his face with a bare hand.

Then, extending his right arm out wide, he flicked it sharply through the air, shaking off the viscous blood clinging to his longsword.

Erica could only marvel at the sight.

‘Killing wyverns with a longsword….’

Seriously, how many dozens had he brought down with that thing by now?

Watching someone slaughter flying monsters with a melee weapon was something she couldn't believe even seeing it with her own eyes.

“Erica, the two coming in above—skewer them together.”

“I can’t, the arrows are too short!”

“You can do it. The angle’s right from there.”

Fwip—

Thwuuump!!

“Screeeech—!!”

“Gwek!!”

It was absolute bedlam.

Chaos, pure chaos—there had never been pandemonium quite like this, and Erica grew increasingly thrilled.

“Told you that you could.”

“Look at that!”

Why am I so damn good at this? I want to show Master!

For once in a long time, Erica was going all out. It had been ages since she had a fight like this.

Even if the situation was dangerous, who cared?

Fwip—!

Thwack!

She shot arrow after arrow.

Whenever one closed in too near, she swiftly drew the shortsword from her thigh and dispatched it.

She was deeply immersed in the heat of battle for what felt like an eternity when—

Phee-ew,

Whoosh—

For the first time since entering the nest, one of Erica’s arrows glanced off course.

Damn it, she cursed under her breath as she reached to nock another arrow, then snapped her head up.

Seeing a wyvern dive straight down at her with terrifying speed, she ducked low.

‘Fuck.’

Thud!

Splaaash!

A fountain of crimson rain erupted overhead.

Without even looking, she knew it was Chaud’s doing.

Having caught a sudden shower of blood, Erica wiped her face with her bare hand.

Her skin felt scorching hot.

Thud!

Around the wyvern crashing to the floor, it looked like a red deluge.

“Chaud…. Can’t you do something about the blood?”

“Why? It feels more like slaying monsters this way. It’s nice.”

Chaud remarked nonchalantly as he pulled his longsword out of the wyvern.

“……?”

Erica paused for a moment.

“Are you… doing this on purpose right now?”

“Why, don't you like it?”

“It’s filthy! I don't want to be covered in monster blood!”

“Understood.”

Understood what, exactly?

Erica glared at Chaud, utterly baffled.

She wanted nothing more than to smack the back of his head, having no clue what went on inside it, but she raised her bow again at a wyvern swooping straight for her.

Fwip—

Thwack!

“Screeeech—!!”

This place was great in the sense that wyverns relentlessly swarmed them so they could fight on the ground, but the downside was that there truly was no end to them.

‘There are too many.’

Even if they each killed a hundred more, it didn't seem like it would end. What were they supposed to do?

Completely clearing this place out would only be possible if they gathered more people and returned.

She was constantly checking their escape route, but if even one of them ran out of steam, it would all be over.

‘Keeping this up with just the two of us is impossible after all.’

They needed to keep fighting moderately, then pull out before their stamina hit rock bottom.

—Right as that thought crossed her mind.

Hummm—

A faint resonance she had heard once before brushed past her ear.

“……?”

She turned around, only to see a sight that defied belief.

Erica’s pupils trembled violently.

Slash—!

Thud.

A monster cleanly dispatched.

It hadn't even been able to let out a dying shriek, having perished in the blink of an eye.

Not a single drop of blood splattered.

Even so, out of habit, Chaud gave the blade in his right hand a crisp, sweeping flick through the air.

Then he stepped briskly atop the high pile of slaughtered beasts.

It was to get a running jump toward his next target.

Hummm—

The sword held in Chaud’s right hand vibrated pleasantly.

Shrouded in a brilliant blue Aura, the longsword gleamed with razor-sharp radiance.

* * *

A Swordmaster.

One capable of producing Aura—that is, blue blade energy.

Their numbers were few to begin with, and ninety percent of them belonged to the Heavenly Emperor's Castle's Tenearha.

If you asked where the remaining ten percent were, most people’s answer was that they didn't know.

If there was a Swordmaster whom the Imperial Family—notorious collectors of Swordmasters—failed to enlist under the name of Tenearha, it was solely because that person had hidden their power.

Someone who, despite having attained the exalted realm of a Swordmaster, possessed no interest in the glory of Tenearha.

Someone who needed neither money, nor fame, nor power.

The only person Erica had ever known like that was her master, Pechenik.

Yet, right before her eyes, there stood another.

‘No wonder the bastard was so insufferable.’

That arrogant face of his, that subtly grating tone of voice—now that she thought about it, he wasn't just normally annoying, he was utterly infuriating.

There had been a reason for all of it.

Erica felt a surge of petulant resentment.

After running away from the count’s estate as a child, it had already been a long time since she began learning the sword from Pechenik.

Pechenik was formerly of the glorious Tenearha. A Swordmaster counted among the top five across the entire continent, no less.

As the disciple who owed everything to his grace, it was only right that she meet that high standard and live up to his expectations.

She was supposed to—she truly was, and yet—

Erica still hadn't grasped Aura.

That fact infuriated her.

Originally, the age at which a Swordmaster awakened varied wildly, and at just eighteen, Erica was still exceedingly young.

Yet Erica’s standards were entirely different.

She believed that once you became an adult, it was all over.

Becoming a Swordmaster after turning twenty was hardly something Pechenik could brag about.

That wouldn't make her a genius.

Though Pechenik told her that things like Aura didn't matter at all, Erica felt miserable.

She was frustrated enough to tear her hair out.

‘It’s because I like the bow better.’

Lately, almost like making excuses, she carried her bow around much more often.

Because I prefer shooting arrows, my sword progress is just slower.

‘No, but if I like the bow more, shouldn't Aura at least manifest on the arrows?!’

Consumed by vexation, Erica jabbed her arrowhead repeatedly into the dirt.

“Erica, what are you doing?”

“What.”

Don't talk to me. You're being fucking insufferable right now.

With a murderous glare, she stared at the side of Chaud’s head.

He was currently setting fire to the nest filled with wyvern eggs.

Whoosh!

Crackle, crackle—

Tossing the rest of the torches into the roaring blaze, Chaud turned around.

“What’s with the pouting?”

he asked, walking toward Erica.

Slumped flat on the ground, her cheeks were puffed with sheer sullenness.

Chaud thought she looked awfully cute.