You and your party managed to enter the city safely.
No funds were spent.
The gatekeeper, his conscience and knightly spirit awakened after decades of neglect, had escorted you in as 'special guests'.
He was still bowing and weeping as you left the main gate, a testament to the depth of his gratitude.
[The 'Tin Knight' marvels at what a convenient curse it is!]
"Oh, that? It was a bluff, just a bluff."
Dorothea waved a dismissive hand at your admiration.
"There's no way I can use a powerful curse like full-body transformation that easily. It's not like we had a contract with mutual consent like with that noble back in the kingdom. If a caster unilaterally unleashes a curse, there's a high chance of failure even with a proper sacrifice and the correct ritual."
Considering the risks, it was better not to even try, Dorothea added.
You tilted your head.
You had clearly seen the gatekeeper's right hand transform into that of a beast.
"That was just a disguise. I only made it look temporarily hairy. It would have returned to normal on its own in about half a day, even if I hadn't dispelled it."
You thought to yourself.
Even so, isn't being able to make someone look hairy for half a day without any preparation pretty amazing?
[The 'Tin Knight' claims you could make a fortune selling this to bald men!]
"No, what kind of ridiculous… wait, is it ridiculous?"
[The 'Tin Knight' insists there are many people in the world who would pour out their fortunes to look like they have a full head of hair!]
Dorothea seemed to be seriously considering your proposal.
She might have been thinking it was a rather decent way to generate income.
"Um, Milady Witch. Sir Knight. Just a moment."
A voice called out to you. Turning around, you saw Ronnie, looking terribly tense for some reason.
She spoke with an anxious expression.
"Will we really be okay? That man might hold a grudge and try to retaliate."
Remembering the gatekeeper's back, which had bent as flexibly as a flip phone, you doubted that would happen, but Ronnie seemed deeply unsettled.
Dorothea didn't particularly deny Ronnie's words.
"Well, setting the man himself aside, there's a chance others might get involved. A lot of people were watching. It's a matter of face, after all."
"In that case—"
"But listen."
Dorothea's gaze fixed on Ronnie.
"We didn't come here to be treated like honored guests, did we? If some big shot in this city tells us, 'Your young lady is our merchandise, so you can't take her,' are you just going to say, 'Oh, I see. Nothing to be done then,' and turn back?"
"Ugh."
Ronnie's face flushed at Dorothea's point.
"Sure, it would be best if we could achieve our goal without fighting and by following all the rules. But some things can't be helped. What's done is done. Fretting over it won't solve anything, you know?"
"…I apologize for showing such weakness."
"You don't need to apologize to me. It would be better to focus on finding those slave traders. I have my own business to attend to, so I can't help with that."
Ronnie's lips parted as if to say something, but she ultimately said nothing, merely bowing her head before departing.
[The 'Tin Knight' remarks that was a rather heartless attitude!]
"Isn't it stranger to expect kindness from a witch?"
Dorothea scoffed at your comment.
"I told you from the beginning, their business is just a side-gig for me. Something extra. If it doesn't get in the way of my own work, I don't mind helping out a little. That's all it is. It's a problem if you start relying on me like I'm some great hero."
"Or," she added.
"Why don't you step up and help them? You were the one who brought it up in the first place."
Oh? you marveled with a body that had no vocal cords.
Dorothea's suggestion was unexpected.
[The 'Tin Knight' asks if it's okay for you to be without a bodyguard!]
"If I need you, I'll call, so come running. Otherwise, you're free."
As she spoke, Dorothea handed you a small skull.
Its size was so dainty that it looked more cute than frightening.
"If that thing starts making a racket, it means I'm calling you. Don't lose it. You'll be in trouble too if you don't have someone to supply your mana, right?"
As if she had said all she needed to, Dorothea walked away without hesitation.
You tilted your head again.
You couldn't tell if this was what they called tsundere or something else entirely.
But either way, you preferred this attitude to being tightly controlled and restricted at every turn.
You headed in the direction Ronnie had gone.
*
Ronnie Roxly let out a deep sigh.
It was a sigh of self-derision, for her own incompetence and patheticness.
At first, she had felt hurt by Dorothea's cold attitude, but after cooling her head, she realized it was only natural for Dorothea to act that way.
She had charged at the bandits, vowing to save her young lady, only to be caught in a net and turned into a slave without swinging her sword even once.
She had gotten on her knees to beg a complete stranger for help, yet instead of acting proactively and guiding the way, she had only piled on more worries.
Even after entering the city with the witch's help, she hadn't actively searched for her lady, but had merely waited for instructions behind the other two.
Looking back coolly at her actions over the past few days, she felt so ashamed she wanted to scream.
'If Sir Lowell were here, or if even one of my seniors from the order had survived… they could have served the young lady so much better than someone like me.'
'To do anything meaningful, I need to give orders to the others and act as a group. But will they listen to me, someone who isn't even an official knight?'
'I hope the young lady is safe. If anything happens to her, our domain is truly finished.'
Negative thoughts have a way of breeding more of the same.
With the fatigue and stress from being dragged around by the slave traders already accumulated, her psychological state was unstable. To an onlooker, Ronnie's complexion was so pale she looked like a patient suffering from a serious illness.
"Lady Ronnie, are you alright?"
Finding her state hard to watch, a nearby woman offered words of comfort.
She was one of the other victims captured by the slave traders, a servant from the lord's castle.
Seeing the worry in the woman's expression, Ronnie forced a smile and replied.
"Yes, I'm fine."
"Please, don't be too disheartened. The witch said to call if we need help, so once we find out where those bandits are, we'll figure something out."
It was a truly optimistic sentiment.
One of her seniors, who always said a commander must assume the worst, would have laughed if he'd heard it.
But for Ronnie right now, they were comforting words.
"Yes, you're right. I'm sure it will all work out."
But perhaps the world is just inherently cruel.
Just as Ronnie was gathering her spirits to stand up, another trial befell her.
"Lady Ronnie! We have a problem!"
At the news delivered by one of the party members she had sent to find lodging, Ronnie's face hardened, and she rushed out into the street.
There, five or six women were caught in a dispute with a similar number of men.
Ronnie tensed her stomach and shouted in the firm tone of a knight.
"What is the meaning of this!"
"Huh?"
"Lady Ronnie!"
The men wore expressions that said, 'What's this now?', while the women quickly hid behind Ronnie.
Suddenly finding herself alone facing several rough-looking men, Ronnie was inwardly nervous, but she hid it behind a haughty demeanor and asked.
"A group of men ganging up on women is a disgraceful sight. What is your business?"
The men exchanged glances, and then one of them stepped forward and pointed a finger at the women behind Ronnie.
"The wench behind you stole my wallet. A man's gotta get back what was stolen, don't you think?"
"That's a lie!!" the accused woman shrieked, almost hysterically.
"I was just walking down the street! Then suddenly, they started accusing me of stealing a wallet and picking a fight!"
"Ha, and when does a thief ever honestly admit, 'Yes, I stole it!'?"
Ronnie's mind raced.
She didn't know the woman accused of pickpocketing very well.
That was only natural, as they had only met a few days ago.
But thinking rationally, it seemed more likely that the men were either mistaken or intentionally picking a fight than that a woman who hadn't properly washed or eaten in days would suddenly attempt to pickpocket someone in an unfamiliar city she had just arrived in.
Therefore, Ronnie shook her head.
"That's impossible. Besides, do you have any proof that she stole it?"
"Proof? We can just search her and find out!"
His logic was that securing the physical evidence would be the proof. In a way, he was right.
If it weren't for the faint smirks and lecherous gazes on the faces of the man and his cronies, Ronnie might have believed him.
"Fine. Then describe the wallet. If it's yours, you should at least be able to do that, right?"
"A wallet's a wallet, what's there to describe! You're running your mouth an awful lot. Are you trying to protect your friend? Making such a fuss over a simple check just makes you look more suspicious, you know?"
Ronnie was so dumbfounded she was at a loss for words.
The man's demand was utterly unreasonable.
By his logic, if a search produced anything resembling a wallet—whether it was his or the woman's—all he had to do was insist it was his, and that would be the end of it.
"Enough of this ridiculous nonsense! If you insist, then we'll go to the city guard—"
Ronnie stopped mid-sentence.
She remembered what the gatekeepers were like on their way into the city.
While it was foolish to judge the whole by a part, she doubted a city guard that proudly employed such men as its public face would be any better.
Ronnie looked around.
The passersby on the street were watching the commotion with great interest, but not a single one offered to help or report it.
All six of the men were armed, whereas among the women, only three, including Ronnie, could fight.
And even they had only taken up arms out of a desire for revenge against the bandits; their actual skills were abysmal.
The honor she had learned while dreaming of becoming a knight told her: Protect your innocent comrades. Do not turn a blind eye to injustice.
Her survival instinct and selfishness, which had grown much stronger after her recent ordeals, whispered: Just give up one person and it will all be over. Maybe the men are telling the truth.
Ronnie squeezed her eyes shut.
And then.
Shing!
Her eyes snapped open as she drew her sword.
"So you want to do this the hard way?"
The men all drew their weapons in unison.
The onlookers cheered as if anticipating a bloody spectacle.
Before the cheers could even die down, Ronnie dashed forward.
She didn't know the enemy's skill level, and she was overwhelmingly outnumbered.
The only way to gain an advantage was to seize the initiative with a surprise attack.
Ronnie was a Knight's Page.
She was far from being an official knight, a woman whose lack of talent had repeatedly delayed her recognition as even an apprentice.
Even so, the stamina and swordsmanship she had diligently trained since childhood were incomparable to that of an ordinary person.
From top-right to bottom-left.
A single, clean flash of her sword slashed deeply across the chest of a man who failed to react to the sudden attack.
She immediately leaned right, pulling her sword back in a sweeping motion. The man to her right clutched at his neck, blood spurting, and crumpled.
Having taken down two in an instant, Ronnie quickly scanned the men's faces.
She hoped to see fear and bewilderment in their expressions.
"How dare you, bitch!"
But far from being scared, the men charged at Ronnie, their faces contorted with rage.
Ronnie swung her sword in response, but overwhelmed by their numbers, she quickly found herself in a desperate struggle.
The other women, terrified by the vicious flurry of blades, could only stand by, unable to do anything as time ticked away.
CLANG!
With a sharp metallic ring, Ronnie's stance broke completely.
A blade flew toward her face.
And so, one person's brave but futile effort came to an end.
Thud.
It should have ended.
If only someone hadn't suddenly reached out and grabbed the sword aimed at Ronnie.
Screech, screeech. A grating sound echoed.
Grabbing a sharp blade with a bare hand was an extremely dangerous act, but it didn't matter to the intruder.
The intruder's hand was not made of soft flesh and blood, but of hard metal.
SNAP!
As the intruder squeezed harder, the sword caught in his hand could not withstand the pressure and broke.
Before the man who had tried to stab Ronnie could even process the absurd situation, the intruder's fist slammed squarely into his face.
The man's body spun a full circle in the air before crashing to the ground.
Faced with such an exaggerated, almost cartoonish scene, everyone there held their breath.
And then.
The 'Tin Knight' charged toward the remaining enemies.