"Flame Dragon's Wing Strike!"
Charles swung his arm, and two trails of fire lashed out, instantly knocking away all the charging courtesan warriors.
But Aisha seized the opening from his attack and charged again, slashing at Charles mercilessly with her greatsword.
"Cicada's Cry!"
Charles sidestepped the blade and lightly tapped its flat with his palm.
Aisha's hand trembled from the impact, and the greatsword dropped to the ground. Charles followed up with a straight punch that sent her flying.
Another Amazon, wielding twin scimitars, came at him swiftly with relentless attacks.
Charles lightly stepped across the ground, weaving through the slashes effortlessly.
The Amazon's technique was too straightforward—after watching for only a moment, Charles had already predicted her patterns.
He stopped dodging, reached out, and caught both blades by their spines. With a twist of his wrists, he bent the scimitars into twisted metal.
Before she could react, he sent her flying with a powerful kick.
Aisha, picking up her greatsword again, shouted, "Don't get close! We can't beat this man in direct combat—use the magic swords!"
The Ishtar Familia, ruling over the Pleasure District, certainly wasn't lacking in funds—they had stockpiled quite a few magic swords.
At Aisha's command, the rear-line courtesan warriors drew their magic swords and aimed at Charles.
But trying to fight a smith who crafts magic swords himself, with magic swords? Charles couldn't help but feel insulted.
"Then let me show you the latest in my Dragon Roar series!"
Charles drew a short sword made of crimson crystal from his waist and activated it.
The blade shattered into glowing red particles, and a torrent of flames surged through the air.
Instead of attacking, the flames gathered in front of Charles and formed a massive dragon's head.
All the elements unleashed from the Ishtar Familia's magic swords—fire, lightning, ice—were devoured in one gulp by the fiery dragon.
Then, the dragon's head turned to face the courtesans and opened its jaws again.
A terrifying fusion of elemental magic swirled inside its maw.
Aisha's eyes narrowed in alarm—she smelled death.
"This is bad—dodge it, now!"
Even though she shouted for the others to run, she herself charged forward with her greatsword.
"Come, Lord of Brutality!—Brave warrior, mighty hero, greedy tyrant! Prove yourself to earn the Empress's favor! Pierce me, slay me, show me you're worthy! My thirsty blade is named Hippolyta!"
The dragon released its devastating breath as Aisha completed her chant.
Her magic, "Purgatory Chaos", engulfed her blade in violent energy, and she launched a magic-infused projectile to intercept the blast.
A deafening explosion rang out, and Aisha was sent flying.
"Smart move," Charles muttered.
He could tell Aisha hadn't tried to clash head-on—she had redirected the dragon's breath with her magic to protect her comrades.
Even so, the shockwave alone was monstrous. Despite being Level 3, Aisha couldn't withstand it.
She crashed into the ground hard and couldn't even lift her weapon.
One Amazon rushed to help her up—only to be knocked aside by someone else.
Charles's gaze grew cold as he looked at the one who approached.
Though they were on opposite sides, Charles had grown to admire Aisha—someone who risked her life to protect her allies.
But now, this newcomer had struck an already-injured comrade.
It was vile, and Charles found it utterly revolting.
Phryne had changed into full heavy armor—even her hideous face was hidden behind a helmet.
Holding a battle axe in each hand, she sneered, "Useless trash—no beauty, no strength, no use at all."
Then she turned to Charles. "Hey, you bastard. I'm here to settle the score!"
Charles had no time for her nonsense. In a flash, he appeared before her and threw a punch.
"Flame Dragon's Iron Fist!"
Phryne was sent flying backward, her thick breastplate now bearing a clear imprint of his fist, and blood sprayed from the seams of her helmet.
Charles frowned. "Armor made of adamantine... No wonder she didn't break on the first hit."
Using her axes for support, Phryne staggered upright and shouted, "You lowly fox! What are you waiting for?!"
Clearly, even adamantine armor wasn't enough. She had no choice now but to play her final card.
From the back stepped a petite, black-robed figure. As she began chanting, a magic circle spread beneath her feet.
"Grow mighty! In strength and form, by countless treasures and countless wishes. When the bell tolls, grant prosperity and dreams.
Grow mighty! Let this body consume divine offerings, and be granted divine radiance. Grant the hammer, return to earth, bestow blessings. —Grow mighty!"
The spell: "Uchide no Kozuchi"—the Magic Mallet! A spell so incredible that even the gods themselves were stunned by it.
The gods descended to the lower world because they saw infinite potential in mortals.
Some mortals awakened powers so broken they seemed like cheats in a game.
In fact, many fans from Charles's previous life dubbed the three most outrageous abilities in the original story the "Big Three Cheats of Orario."
Even the protagonist with the \[Argonaut] skill didn't make the cut.
And the girl currently casting the Magic Mallet, the renard Haruhime Sanjouno, was one of them.
Haruhime, once a noble of the Far East, had been betrayed by a Pallum emissary and cast out by her father.
Eventually, she was sold into the Ishtar Familia as a courtesan-in-training.
But Haruhime was too innocent—just seeing a naked man made her faint.
Clients hated her for it, and so she remained untouched and pure, though she had no idea this was the case.
Ordinarily, someone like her would have no place in the Ishtar Familia, but Ishtar kept her for one reason: the Magic Mallet.
Its effect was level elevation—temporarily raising a target's level by one.
In Orario, level essentially equaled absolute power. Raising someone's level could instantly reverse the tide of battle.
And Haruhime would later awaken another spell: "Ninetail."
Its effect was simple—store up to nine Magic Mallets, usable on nine separate targets.
If she'd been born just a decade or two earlier and trained properly, and had fought in the battle against the One-Eyed Black Dragon...
The "Empress" could have become Level 10.
Even if she couldn't solo the dragon, nine boosted elites at Level 8 or 9 would've been enough to shatter its skull.
Sadly, miracles seemed bound by the era in which they appeared. Haruhime wasn't born in the right time.
Even so, her potential influence in this era was immeasurable.
If either of Orario's "Two Kings" got their hands on her, they'd dominate the entire city.
If Loki Familia boosted the Three Captains plus Ais, that'd be four Level 7s—more than enough to steamroll Freya Familia.
And on the other side, even if it was just Ottar, one boost to Level 8 and he could potentially solo the entire Loki Familia.
There was no denying that the Magic Mallet was extraordinarily powerful—but it wasn't enough to change everything.
At least not the current power gap between her side and Charles.
"See? I'm different now\..." Phryne started.
But before she could finish, Charles's palm landed on her helmet and forced her head to the ground.
He straightened and stepped on the helmet with one foot. "Really? That's weird—I didn't notice any difference."
With a crunch, cracks spiderwebbed across the ground and across her adamantine helmet.
Her screams were shrill and pitiful.
"Sorry! I'm sorry! I was wrong! Please, I'll do anything—just let me go! Come on, aren't you tempted? I'm even more beautiful than the godde—"
"Shut up."
Charles couldn't stand it anymore.
He stomped down hard, shattering the helmet and driving her entire head into the floor.
And then, silence fell upon the world.
------------------
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