Chapter 20: Silver Dance Steps in the Mud.

The bottom level of Howling Mine, a vast stalactite cavern.

This was the decisive battlefield.

Hundreds of goblins and hobgoblins, along with a five-meter-tall Ogre Lord, surged from the darkness like a tidal wave.

Shouts of battle, the clash of weapons, the roars of monsters…

All echoed and reverberated endlessly in the sealed underground space, deafening and unceasing.

To ordinary novice adventurers, this scene alone would be enough to make their legs give out.

But Hill was smiling.

“Haa…”

Hill drew a deep breath.

Although Phyllis’s air filtration barrier was still active, diluting the rusty, blood-soaked stench, Hill could still sharply catch the scent of the battlefield.

The most familiar scent to her… the smell of survival.

“Left flank breakthrough! Alyssa, raise shield and advance!”

Hill’s voice had completely changed from its usual softness—it now carried a resounding, metallic authority that commanded belief.

“Received! For the Captain’s glory!!”

Alyssa roared, her entire body erupting in golden light.

That was Phyllis’s Sacred Taunt.

Like a human siege engine, she smashed through a dozen goblins’ attacks, forcibly carving open a path.

“Nya, cut down the backline archers!”

“Got it nya! So many expensive arrowheads nya!”

Nya’s figure flickered between stalactites like black lightning.

“Then…”

Hill crouched low, spinning her mithril shortsword in a beautiful flourish.

“Time for me to join.”

She moved.

No wasted motion, no flashy battle cries.

Hill’s figure slipped into the chaos like a drop of water merging into the sea—smooth, natural, inevitable.

A hobgoblin swung a spiked club down at her.

Hill advanced instead of retreating. With a微 shift of her foot, she evaded by a hair’s breadth. Using the momentum, her shortsword sliced precisely across the monster’s throat.

Schlick!

Blood sprayed.

But the instant before it could touch her, the invisible Repelling Wind barrier snapped open again, blasting every drop of filth to the sides.

Hill didn’t even glance at the fallen enemy. She spun on her heel, skirt blooming like a flower, and severed the arm of another goblin trying to sneak up behind her.

Fast.

Too fast.

Not just in speed—it was domination on the level of perception.

Hill felt her senses stretched to the limit. Every movement around her seemed to slow to a crawl.

Was this… Phyllis’s support?

Hill marveled inwardly.

It wasn’t just lightness of body—she felt a gentle wind constantly lifting her elbows and knees.

Whenever she exerted force, the wind pushed in perfect sync.

Whenever she changed direction, it steadied her center of gravity.

She wasn’t fighting alone.

It was as if a pair of tender hands were lifting her, letting her dance across this brutal battlefield.

This feeling… was incredible.

狂热 light flashed in Hill’s eyes; the corners of her mouth curved into a wild, unrestrained grin.

In that instant, she was no longer the delicate silver-haired girl—she was once again the legendary hero Rayne who once dominated the world.

…

At the rear of the battlefield, atop a towering rock.

Phyllis stood silently, overlooking the entire fight.

She held no staff—only an open spellbook. Her fingers glided lightly across the pages, as though playing a piano piece.

A few stray goblins tried to climb up and attack her.

They never got within five meters.

Invisible wind blades sliced them into pieces before they even realized.

Phyllis didn’t spare the corpses a glance.

Her eyes, from beginning to end, were locked on that single silver figure.

Ah… Hill.

You right now are breathtakingly beautiful.

That decisive, ruthless gaze. That狂笑 as blood splashes.

I want to preserve this version of you…

Turn you into a specimen, keep you forever by my bedside.

A flush crept across Phyllis’s cheeks; her breathing grew slightly ragged.

She didn’t dislike this version of Hill—decisive, fierce, even a little savage.

On the contrary, she loved it desperately.

As long as… this strength belonged only to her.

Just then.

A discordant note appeared on the battlefield.

“Beautiful silver-haired lady! Allow me to assist you!”

A magnetic male voice rang out.

It was an allied captain from the B-rank party Lion’s Fang—Lancelot.

Clad in dazzling golden armor, long spear in hand, he charged in from the flank, clearly trying to show off his heroism to Hill.

At that moment, Hill was about to deliver the finishing blow to a hobgoblin.

The timing was perfect—calculated for a guaranteed kill.

But Lancelot suddenly lunged forward, forcing himself between Hill and her target.

“Thunder Thrust!!”

His spear flashed with lightning and pierced the hobgoblin before Hill’s sword could.

“How’s that? You’re not hurt, right?”

Lancelot turned back, flashing what he clearly thought was a charming toothy grin.

“A crude monster like that isn’t worth dirtying your hands, milady…”

Hill forcibly halted her swing, nearly twisting her waist from the sudden stop.

Her brows knotted into a deep frown.

Stealing her kill?

Blocking her path?

Did this guy understand teamwork at all?

“Move.”

Hill said coldly.

“You’re in my attack line.”

“Don’t be so cold—we’re comrades fighting side by side…”

Lancelot clearly didn’t read the room and tried to lean closer.

“It’s too dangerous here. Why don’t you fall back behind me—”

Up on the high rock.

Phyllis’s finger paused on a certain page of her spellbook.

She looked at the suicidal golden-armored fool, still wearing her serene smile, not even twitching an eyebrow.

But the air around her instantly froze.

Phyllis gently closed the book.

Her right index finger moved subtly, tracing a hidden wind rune.

On the battlefield.

Lancelot was turning to face the next monster, ready to show off his back.

Beneath his feet was a pool of muddy blood.

Suddenly, an eerie, precise whirlwind appeared right behind his right heel.

Not an attack—just a gentle… push.

“Eh?”

Lancelot’s balance collapsed instantly.

Normally, a B-rank warrior’s sense of balance would have recovered.

But immediately after, the mud under his feet turned slick as grease.

“Waaah!!”

Before everyone’s eyes, this heroic knight—who had rushed in to save the beauty—faceplanted spectacularly into the pile of goblin excrement and viscera in a textbook dog-eat-shit pose.

Splat!

Mud sprayed everywhere.

His shining golden armor instantly turned shit-yellow.

“…”

Hill froze for a second.

This was… way too pathetic?

One second he was posing heroically, the next he was flat on his face?

“Careful, Hill!”

Phyllis’s voice arrived at the perfect moment, full of concern.

“That person’s position was terrible—it destabilized the ground. Stay away from him so you don’t catch his idiot aura!”

Hill nodded deeply in agreement.

“Indeed. Can’t even stand properly—how did this guy become a captain?”

She retreated two steps in disgust, circled around the still-struggling Lancelot, and continued charging toward the Ogre Lord.

In the mud pit, Lancelot tried to get up—only to feel as if a mountain had suddenly landed on his back.

“Gurgle…”

He was pressed back down and swallowed a mouthful of filthy water.

Up on the high rock, Phyllis elegantly withdrew her finger and wiped her fingertip with a handkerchief.

Just lie there, trash.

The stage doesn’t need clowns.

…

The battle entered its final phase.

Under Alyssa’s unyielding defense and Hill’s relentless bleeding attacks, the Ogre Lord finally collapsed with a thunderous crash.

Its massive body kicked up a cloud of dust.

“We won!”

Cheers erupted across the battlefield.

Hill stood atop the ogre’s corpse and sheathed her sword.

She breathed heavily; sweat slid down her cheeks; silver hair clung to her neck.

Though exhausted, the exhilarating rush made her entire body feel alive.

“Hill!”

Before she could jump down, a white figure flew toward her.

Phyllis had even used Levitation to land directly beside her.

“Are you hurt? Is your wrist okay? Anywhere uncomfortable?”

Phyllis fired questions like bullets, cupping Hill’s face and inspecting her up and down.

“I’m fine—better than fine.”

Hill laughed, eyes still sparkling with excitement.

“Phyllis, your support was perfect! That fight was the most fun I’ve had in my life!”

Hearing those words, the last trace of shadow in Phyllis’s eyes vanished.

She looked at Hill’s bright, glittering red pupils—beautifully shimmering in the glow of victory.

“Really? As long as Hill is happy.”

Phyllis took out a towel soaked in chilled mint water and gently wiped the sweat from Hill’s face.

“Good work, my hero.”

She stood on tiptoe and—right in front of everyone—pressed a reverent, light kiss to Hill’s forehead.

“As a reward… tonight when we get home, I made your favorite roast meat.”

Hill froze for a second, cheeks tinting red, but she didn’t pull away.

In the post-adrenaline exhaustion, Phyllis’s embrace and the cool towel felt far too comforting.

Not far away.

Lancelot—covered in mud and reeking—watched the scene, trembling with rage but too afraid to approach.

Because at the same moment as the kiss, the golden-haired nun had cast him a subtle glance.

An ice-cold look as if regarding a corpse.

It seemed to say…

Next time you dare get close, it won’t be your nose that breaks—it’ll be your neck.

Lancelot shuddered and slunk away into the crowd without another word.

The battlefield gradually quieted.

Supported by Phyllis, Hill walked the road back to the city.

Alyssa led the way, shield on her back.

Nya followed behind, weighed down by a bulging pack of loot.

The sun set in the west.

A relaxed smile spread across Hill’s face.

She felt truly fortunate.

Reborn into a second life.

And blessed with the best team, the most perfect partner.

…

She had no idea what shadows lay hidden behind this seemingly glorious victory.