Chapter 141 - Amateurs and Professionals
For just a moment, my attention slipped—and in that instant, the siege had escalated into something fierce, almost uncontrollable.
It was, in essence, a chaotic collaboration between reckless rogue adventurers and the wildly enthusiastic members of the Kikyo Society.
And what resulted was an outright idiotic spectacle—shameless, boundless, and utterly senseless in its destruction.
They fired off offensive magic without hesitation, welcoming stray shots, swinging their weapons with zero regard for collateral damage.
Every building, every paved pathway, streetlights, benches, flowerbeds, trees lining the roads, even parked vehicles—everything within sight lay in utter ruin. Some structures had already collapsed into heaps of rubble; hardly anything remained untouched.
And this wasn’t just any part of Exembra. This was its very heart—the Central Plaza, the largest of the city’s few public squares.
Surrounding it stood the headquarters of major guilds and large organizations. Aside from Exembra’s administrative bodies, this place was the city’s beating core.
Even the most delusional fool wouldn’t dare carry out such reckless devastation here. The people before me weren’t just reckless—they were mindless. But the outcome, in the end, was the same.
Ah, yes. This wasn’t just a minor slip-up. We’d well and truly crossed the line…
The only saving grace was that all civilians had already evacuated the combat zone, and so far, no fires had broken out.
“…This is definitely bad. No, actually, it’s already too late. Still, maybe I should try to rein things in now…”
“The Adventurer Guild, not only its Guild Master but also his cronies, have been profiting from illicit gains, have they not? They—and the Guild itself—bear responsibility. If we force them to compensate, the issue should resolve itself.”
“Hmm. I wish it were that simple.”
With destruction on this scale, the damages would inevitably be astronomical.
Ideally, the Adventurer Guild and its affiliates would cover the costs. But if their payment fell short—and it almost certainly would—our side would likely be forced to shoulder the remainder. And with reporters and spectators watching closely, we’d undoubtedly be blamed regardless. We could swallow minor losses, but a massive sum would inevitably impact our operational plans.
Given how blatantly excessive this all was, denying responsibility would be impossible. Besides, journalists were right here, and an audience was watching. Any clumsy excuse would only worsen our position.
And it wasn’t just about money. The very fact that we’d allowed something like this to happen was the real problem. But oh well. Whatever will be, will be. If it doesn’t work out, we’ll just make it work.
Focusing on the future is healthier than dwelling on irreversible past events. Though admittedly, I might be indulging in a bit of escapism.
Still, I can’t help but feel irritated at the Kikyo Society members—precisely because they weren’t fighting in complete chaos.
Our original plan had been clear: maintain the encirclement, avoid turning this into a free-for-all, and let not a single rogue adventurer escape. Most importantly, no one was to be allowed to flee.
And yet, despite the flashy, destructive spectacle they’d created, they were strictly adhering to that one rule. It was admirable, yes—but also infuriating.
But at this point, it was too late to turn back. Even if they fought with restraint now, the damage had already been done. The cost wouldn’t change. At this stage, we might as well go all the way.
Besides, the outcome of the battle was already decided.
The Kikyo Society members fought with such vibrant intensity that it inspired a kind of awe.
The Combat Units were seizing the moment to display their true strength—and leading them, of course, were the officers.
First Combat Unit: Angelina and Verone.
Second Combat Unit: Mary and Brittany.
Third Combat Unit: Albert and Mia.
Fourth Combat Unit: Bonnie and Liliane.
Fifth Combat Unit: Paula and Charlotte.
The captains and vice-captains of the first through fifth units were now showcasing their absolute strength and overwhelming presence—not just to our own young members, but also to the embedded reporters, the distant spectators, and the dying rogue adventurers.
Their battle style—like demons, like avatars of carnage—would leave an indelible mark on anyone who witnessed it.
They shrugged off incoming attacks as if unharmed, never flinching even when wounded. Every strike they delivered was a killing blow. Standing amid sprays of blood, they pressed forward as if it weren’t enough, craving more—their forms indistinguishable from devils of hell or grim reapers.
And there was no escape, whether near, mid, or long range. Their diverse weapon proficiencies and magical affinities made the spectacle all the more impressive.
Yes. Exactly like that. Let them see. Let them all see. So that no fool ever dares doubt the Kikyo Society’s strength again.
And the other officers weren’t lagging behind either.
Shelby, Josephine, Ortlinde, Gradena—and even Zenobia, still a candidate for officer status.
Each of them radiated an overwhelming dominance, as if looking down from a far greater height.
Even Shelby, usually in a more subdued role, and the two from the Intelligence Unit, were now seizing the moment to prove their strength. Their individual combat prowess, honed through regular joint training with the Combat Units, was by no means inferior. I’d expected them to serve in support roles rather than on the front lines, but for some reason, they were now unleashing pent-up frustrations with wild abandon.
As for Gradena and Zenobia—there was no need to even speak of their strength.
Rather than raw combat power, what stood out was their ability to precisely support their allies, drawing out strength beyond their usual limits. That kind of charisma made their presence on the battlefield overwhelming. While someone like Siegrune or Angelina also possessed such an aura, it was especially noticeable here, amidst the volunteer fighters.
This many officers had joined the encirclement.
Every single one of them, the pride of the Kikyo Society. Sure, they were going overboard with their antics, but at least they were faithfully upholding the one critical rule: no one escapes.
Our young members were spirited, and even the volunteers—drawn in by our momentum—were seizing this chance to settle old scores, throwing caution to the wind.
What began as a battle fueled by anger now looked, to me, like they were simply having fun. From the outside, though, it probably just looked terrifying.
“Honestly, what a bunch of hopeless idiots!”
Rogue adventurers were nothing but a gathering of half-hearted delinquents.
I didn’t know what circumstances had driven them astray, but if they’d just stuck to being proper adventurers, they could’ve earned well enough with sufficient skill. And given how popular the profession was, becoming a local hero wasn’t even out of reach. You didn’t need to be the Hero—being a hero within your own city was already something impressive.
And if being a hero didn’t suit them, there were even paths into the underworld.
Yet here they were, posturing by picking on society’s weakest, living half-baked lives. It was so pathetic, it made me want to cry.
Did they suffer a tragic event?
Were they forced onto this path by unavoidable circumstances?
Or do they have some grand reason I can’t even imagine?
So what? Comparing ourselves serves no purpose. But let me tell you—our own ranks are filled with girls who’ve endured miserable pasts and insurmountable hardships. More than I can count. And in this world, such tragedies aren’t even rare.
Surely grown men aren’t trying to play tragic heroines, are they?
I wonder what grand excuse they’d give if I asked.
Or are they just wicked bastards who do this because it’s fun? Honestly, that’d be preferable to some petty, whiny justification.
Anyway, even if they wanted to explain, I have zero intention of listening. In this world, true kindness is an extremely rare commodity.
There’s only one thing we need to do: crush them completely and deliver their final judgment.
They must’ve seriously miscalculated.
They probably never imagined a full-scale confrontation with an organized underworld force. With this level of strength, trying to invade Exembra’s underworld—controlled by the Five Great Families—was impossible. If they’d truly intended to do so, they’d have prepared much more carefully.
But they underestimated us because we were the Kikyo Society.
We’re an irregular entity—opposed by many major organizations, effectively isolated in the underworld. And we’re an all-female group. They made the grand mistake of thinking we’d be easy to crush.
And now, they were paying the price.
Rogue adventurers? They were never a match for us—people who were serious about being criminals.
The encirclement was under control. Left alone, it would end soon enough.
It had already turned into something close to mopping-up operations. Some enemies might try to flee, but our people weren’t naive enough to let that happen.
The battle’s focus had shifted from the outer defensive lines to the Central Plaza.
It wasn’t just about location. The plaza housed the elite of the rogue adventurers—their best and strongest.
Originally, the enemy had planned to fortify their defenses and meet us with a fully prepared stance.
But their careless actions—and my own decisive throw—had shattered that plan before the battle even began.
What remained was an enemy forced into a direct, head-on confrontation, and our young, vibrant Kikyo Society members—who seemed to be enjoying the disadvantage.
Their resolve was different.
Their determination was different.
Their entire mindset, spirit, and approach to battle—everything was on a completely different level from the very start.
They never stood a chance.
The so-called elite of the rogue adventurers? That title meant nothing.
They were merely the elite among half-hearted amateurs. Was there anything more pathetic?
And fundamentally, their strength existed on an entirely different plane.
“Onee-sama, shall we go?”
“It’s finally reaching its climax. Yes, let’s move.”
With cheerful nods, Valeria and Violante led the reserve forces toward the Central Plaza—and the Adventurer Guild.
Most of their pawns had already been crushed. Now, only the main target remained.
We arrived, stepping over piles of rubble to join Siegrune at the Central Plaza, where our forces had already assembled.
Quite a few were resting or receiving treatment. I just hoped their injuries came from enemies, not from friendly fire—that’d be ridiculous.
“Everyone’s here, it seems.”
“Aye. No issues among Kikyo Society members. The reporters and volunteers have some serious injuries, but the two Advisors should be able to handle it.”
“If those two can’t fix it, then nothing can. And they’re not the type to make mistakes. No need to worry.”
Even if healing mages were short, we had plenty of low-tier recovery potions. As long as no one had died, everyone would be fine.
I wanted every participant to return home safely—and to spread the word of this battle far and wide. As a participation bonus, we’d generously hand out recovery potions to all.
“Well then, shall we go pay our respects to the big boss’s face?”
“I’d love to kill the bastard, but… maybe it’s better if we don’t get involved.”
Bonnie and Paula would probably be best for that.
Besides, it seemed some fools were still trying to interfere, even at this stage. They’d be better suited to handling that.
“Everyone, hostile forces approaching rapidly! They’ll be here soon!”
Violante clearly pointed in the direction, alerting us.
I’d already sensed their movement. The closer they got, the clearer it became—they weren’t heading straight for us.
“Secure the front of the Guild! Don’t let them through! Don’t forget to watch for reinforcements and aerial threats!”
At Siegrune’s shout, the Kikyo Society immediately tightened their defense, just as a group clad entirely in black emerged.
Another group in black? How unoriginal. Honestly, that kind of outfit makes you too easy to spot. They really should’ve picked something better.
Just as I thought, they weren’t targeting us. Their straight-line charge toward the Adventurer Guild made their intent obvious.
They were here to silence the Guild Master.
With no other route available, they’d boldly stepped into our sight. How dare they mock us like this.
They were at least semi-professionals. Extracting information from them would be difficult, even if captured.
Still, I’d like to know whose lapdogs they were. I’d leave that judgment to Josephine and Ortlinde, who were here.
“I’m going inside! The rest is up to you!”
There was no need for all of us to deal with a group like this. It’d be overkill.
The Kikyo Society’s ability to naturally divide roles during battle was one of its greatest strengths.
Some handled eliminating intruders. Others supported the injured. Some focused on perimeter defense and reconnaissance. Others relayed messages. And some stayed with me.
I preferred to eliminate distractions from here on. The reporters had wanted to follow, but after sensing our mood and witnessing the assassins’ attack, they’d stayed back. For journalists, they were surprisingly well-behaved. I’d made sure to turn them away if they tried to follow.
With me were Valeria, Siegrune, Verone as guide, and Gradena—we stepped into the Adventurer Guild.
Inside, the building was empty. I’d already sensed that from outside through magic detection.
Even at night, there should’ve been a few on-duty staff during normal times. But apparently, they’d evacuated following Ophelia’s warning.
Even a petty criminal like the Guild Master should’ve had sympathizers or allies. But it seemed he wasn’t well-liked. Still, the absence of even personal guards or close retainers was slightly concerning.
We strode through the abandoned guild hall like we owned the place, checking for subtle magical traces as we made for the Guild Master’s office.
There were minor magical residues scattered throughout, but no traps so far.
“The main enemy seems to be alone. Looks like he’s made his choice.”
“We’re not close, but I doubt that’s it. After doing something so outrageous, waiting here instead of fleeing is suspicious. But I don’t think he’s that honorable.”
I pondered their exchange as we walked.
Honor? If he were that noble, things would be easier. Less trouble.
We passed through the bureaucratic building, its walls pockmarked with holes from earlier blasts, walking with complete confidence.
Without interference, we reached the office marked with a nameplate.
Well then. Time to finally meet the idiot who pulled such a ridiculous stunt—and then had the nerve to pick a fight.
Let’s see what kind of foolish face he’s wearing.
Next time, “The Enemy’s Objective Ahead.”