Has the knight lady who married into the countryside fallen into depravity today?

The morning light in the courtyard was lovely.

Ophelia stood in the center of the open space and changed into her knight's formal attire.

Her long, golden hair was tied into a high ponytail, shimmering faintly in the sunlight, swaying gently with her movements.

Her hand rested on the hilt of the sword, and her entire demeanor instantly changed.

No longer the wife who quietly ate breakfast at the table and would occasionally blush unconsciously because of Klein's praise, but a knight on the battlefield, the first knight of the empire.

That sharp aura made the air in the courtyard seem to freeze.

Raymond stood opposite her, took off his butler's coat, revealing a black shirt underneath.

His hand also rested on the hilt of the sword, and his eyes sharpened.

As an experienced butler who had seen many people, he knew very well how terrifying the lady before him was.

But that's precisely why he needs to give it his all.

Only by witnessing her strength firsthand could he truly feel at ease letting his master go to that dangerous place.

Klein sat on a bench by the courtyard, holding a cup of tea in his hand.

"Let's begin," he said, his tone relaxed.

Ophelia nodded.

Raymond nodded.

The next second, the two of them moved at the same time.

The sound of a sword being drawn exploded in the air, crisp and sharp.

Raymond's sword was so fast that its trajectory was almost invisible.

His steps were steady, each step perfectly placed, the tip of his sword aimed directly at Ophelia's throat.

This is swordsmanship for killing, not just for show.

Each sword strike carried the experience he had accumulated in countless life-or-death battles, with tricky angles and precise force.

Ophelia turned to the side, the blade grazing her neck.

Her counterattack was equally swift, the tip of her sword aimed straight for Raymond's heart.

The movements were clean and efficient, without the slightest unnecessary pause.

Raymond stepped back, parrying with his sword; the sound of metal clashing echoed through the courtyard.

Sparks flew between the two, dazzling in the morning light.

Both men's swordsmanship was concise, with no superfluous movements; each strike seemed designed to kill the opponent.

Klein took a sip of tea, his eyes fixed on him.

He could tell that Raymond's swordsmanship was very skillful, a technique honed through countless life-or-death battles.

Each sword strike carried a steady rhythm, like an experienced hunter probing the weaknesses of its prey.

But Ophelia's swordsmanship was purer.

There were no unnecessary probing, no fancy tricks, only the most direct attacks and the most precise defenses.

Her sword was fast, but not blindly fast; rather, it was an instinctive reaction formed through countless training sessions.

It's as natural as breathing.

Raymond's sword was aimed at her shoulder, but she dodged to the side and simultaneously swung her sword back at Raymond's wrist.

Raymond sheathed his sword, took a half step back, and thrust the blade out again.

Ophelia parried, the blades clashed, sparks flew.

The two figures clashed in the courtyard, their swords flashing, their speed increasing rapidly.

The fallen leaves on the ground were swept up by the sword wind and flew through the air.

Klein put down his teacup, his expression turning serious.

He could tell that Raymond was starting to struggle.

Ophelia's swordsmanship was so steady that it was impossible to find any flaws.

She easily deflected every attack Raymond made, while her counterattacks forced Raymond to fight back with all his might.

This feeling is like fighting against an insurmountable wall.

Raymond's forehead began to sweat.

His breathing became rapid, and the speed of the blade began to slow down.

An indescribable sense of awe welled up within me.

He had killed countless opponents in the underground arena and had also traveled the continent with the master's father, where he had seen all kinds of powerful figures.

But the woman before him was still more powerful than he had imagined.

Ophelia remained calm, her golden eyes showing no emotion.

Her sword pierced Raymond's chest. Raymond parried, but the blade trembled slightly from the impact.

He took a step back and took a deep breath.

"It seems I have no choice but to use my battle aura first," he said, a wry smile in his voice.

He thought that with his skills and experience, he could at least keep up with his wife for a while longer.

But the reality is cruel.

Ophelia stopped attacking, stood still, and pointed her sword at the ground.

"Okay," she said calmly.

The golden eyes looked at Raymond with neither contempt nor arrogance, but only pure seriousness.

Raymond closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

The next second, a faint light began to emanate from his body.

That's battle qi, a cultivation system in this world similar to magic.

The light was very strong, flowing around his body like morning mist, enough to boost his speed and strength by more than one level.

He opened his eyes, his gaze becoming even sharper.

"Come on," he said.

Klein narrowed his eyes, observing Raymond's aura with great interest.

Ophelia nodded.

She began to radiate light.

But that light was completely different from Raymond's.

Raymond's battle aura was a pale white, as gentle as morning mist.

Ophelia's battle aura was golden, as dazzling as sunlight.

No, it's not just dazzling.

The golden light carried a certain oppressive feeling, as if the sun itself had descended into the courtyard.

The surrounding air was slightly distorted by this force.

Klein gasped.

He could sense that Ophelia's fighting spirit was much stronger than Raymond's, by a completely different margin.

"Is this the strength of the Empire's First Knight?" he murmured to himself, a hint of amazement flashing in his eyes.

Raymond sensed it too.

His expression turned serious, and he gripped the sword in his hand even tighter.

Cold sweat trickled down my forehead.

This power is beyond the comprehension of ordinary people.

The next second, the two moved again.

This time the speed was more than twice as fast as before.

Raymond's sword pierced Ophelia's heart, its blade wreathed in white battle aura, accompanied by a whistling sound as it cut through the air.

The air was torn apart by the blade, producing a sharp whistling sound.

Ophelia turned to the side, the blade grazing her clothes.

Her counterattack was equally swift, the tip of her sword aimed straight for Raymond's throat.

Golden battle aura flowed along the blade, carrying a scorching heat.

Raymond parried, but the blade was jolted back by the impact.

He took three steps back, his expression growing even more grave.

My hand felt numb, and my arm ached.

Ophelia did not pursue, but simply stood there, the tip of her sword still pointing at the ground.

Her breathing remained steady, and there was no fluctuation in her golden eyes.

For her, the exchange just now was merely a warm-up.

Raymond took a deep breath and charged forward again.

This time his attack was even more ferocious, his sword thrusting out continuously, each strike carrying the light of battle aura.

He abandoned defense and chose to attack in the most aggressive way.

Because he knew that if he continued to drag it out, he would only lose even more miserably.

But Ophelia remained calm.

With a gentle flick of her sword, she neutralized Raymond's attack.

Her movements were simple, without unnecessary steps or fancy moves, only the most precise blocks and the most direct counterattacks.

Every block was perfectly timed, and every counterattack forced Raymond to fight back with all his might.

Raymond's sword was aimed at her shoulder, but she dodged to the side and simultaneously swung her sword back at Raymond's wrist.

Raymond sheathed his sword, but the blade was still grazed by the tip of Ophelia's sword, leaving a shallow mark.

He stepped back, his face growing even uglier.

His breathing became more rapid, and sweat dripped from his forehead onto the ground.

Klein put down his teacup, a smile playing on his lips.

He could tell that Raymond had done his best.

But Ophelia remained completely at ease.

Her swordsmanship was so steady, so steady it was despair-inducing.

She easily deflected every attack Raymond made, while her counterattacks forced Raymond to fight back with all his might.

This is not a difference in skill, but a difference in ability.

An absolute gap in strength.

Just like the gap between adults and children, no matter how hard the children try, they can never cross that chasm.

Raymond charged forward again, thrusting his sword repeatedly, each strike imbued with all his power.

White battle aura burned on the sword blade, emitting a dazzling light.

But Ophelia simply swung her sword lightly and neutralized all his attacks.

Her sword drew a golden arc in the air, slashing directly at Raymond's chest.

That sword strike carried an unstoppable momentum, like lightning falling from the sky.

Raymond parried, but the blade was jolted back by the impact.

He took five steps back, his face turning pale.

A sharp pain shot through my arm; the web between my thumb and forefinger was split open, and blood was dripping down the hilt of the sword.

Ophelia stopped attacking, stood still, and pointed her sword at the ground.

The golden battle aura slowly subsided, and her expression remained calm.

"Is that enough?" she asked calmly.

Raymond was silent for a few seconds, then shook his head with a wry smile.

"That's enough," he said, a hint of helplessness in his voice. "The Empire's First Knight, truly lives up to his name."

He sheathed his sword and took a deep breath.

"I lost," he said, his tone remarkably calm, "and I lost decisively."

A complex mix of emotions welled up inside me.

There was a sense of awe, reverence, and an indescribable sense of peace.

With such strength protecting the master, what else does he have to worry about?

Ophelia also sheathed her sword, and the golden battle aura slowly dissipated.

"Your swordsmanship is excellent," she said, a hint of approval in her voice. "If it were just a contest of skill, I might not be able to win."

This isn't just a polite remark.

Raymond's swordsmanship was indeed very skillful; the kind of technique honed on the brink of life and death was something she couldn't learn at the Knight Academy.

Raymond shook his head.

"Madam, you flatter me. Even in swordsmanship, you far surpass me," he said calmly. "I understand."

He turned to look at Klein, his gaze becoming serious.

"Sir, I'm relieved," he said. "With Madam here, your safety is assured."

Klein smiled.

"I told you so," he said, a hint of smugness in his voice. "My judgment is never wrong."

He stood up and walked to Ophelia's side.

"You've worked hard," he said, reaching out to gently pat her shoulder.

Ophelia turned to look at Klein, a hint of helplessness flashing in her golden eyes.

But the corners of his mouth unconsciously curved into a tiny smile.

"It's not hard work," she said softly.

Then she looked at her left hand, the hand that had been tainted by the siren.

She barely used her left hand during the fight.

It's not that it can't be used, it's that we don't want to use it.

The smudge on her hand always reminded her of the battle on the West Coast.

Klein noticed her gaze and reached out to take her left hand.

"It's okay," he said gently. "We'll face it together."

Ophelia paused for a moment, then nodded.

"Mmm," she said.

Raymond walked over to Klein, his voice becoming low.

"Sir, the situation on the west coast is very complicated," he said. "The fact that Carl and his men have gone missing means there's a lot of trouble there. You and your wife must be very careful."

He paused, then continued, "I've already had some supplies and equipment prepared, along with a few bottles of healing potions. Although the lady is very strong, that area is, after all, the territory of the siren, so it's always good to be prepared."

Klein nodded.

"I know," he said calmly, "that's why we're going."

He turned to look at Ophelia.

"And I trust Ophelia," he said. "She won't let anything happen to me."

Ophelia's ears turned slightly red, but she quickly regained her composure.

"Yes," she said, her voice firm.

Raymond was silent for a few seconds, then nodded.

"I will take care of things regarding the territory," he said. "Don't worry."

Klein patted him on the shoulder.

"I believe you," he said.

Ophelia walked up to Klein, her golden eyes looking at him.

"When are we leaving?" she asked.

Klein thought for a moment.

"Tomorrow," he said. "Let's prepare today and leave first thing tomorrow morning."

Although the full moon is still a month away, the journey will only take three days.

But if we arrive sooner, we might still be able to find those who have gone missing.

Moreover, he had a vague premonition.

Things on the West Coast are probably more complicated than he imagined.

Ophelia nodded.

"Okay," she said.

Then she paused, her golden eyes looking at Klein.

"What do I need to prepare?" she asked.

Klein smiled.

"All you need to do is prepare your sword," he said. "Leave the rest to me."

Ophelia nodded, a small smile curving her lips.

"Okay," she said.

Raymond stood to the side, watching the two of them, his expression becoming complicated.

He opened his mouth as if to say something, but ultimately remained silent.

Klein turned to look at him.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

Raymond shook his head.

"It's nothing," he said, "it's just..."

He paused, his voice becoming even lower.

"I only hope that you and your wife return safely."

He remembered the master's father, the man who had once saved him from dire straits.

That person was the same way, always smiling and saying, "You'll come back safely."

But in the end, he still couldn't come back.

Klein smiled.

"Yes," he said, his tone relaxed. "We'll come back safely."

He could sense Raymond's worry, but he didn't want to make the atmosphere too heavy.

"Besides, I also want to come back and continue my alchemy research," he said. "The siren materials from the West Coast might help me advance my research further."

Raymond shook his head with a wry smile.

"Sir, you really are..." he said, "just like your father."

Klein shrugged.

"Of course," he said. "After all, he's his son."

Ophelia stood beside him, her golden eyes gazing into the distance.

west coast.

That place where she once fought.

That place where she fought against the gods.

Her left hand trembled slightly, but quickly calmed down.

She turned to look at Klein, a resolute glint in her golden eyes.

"We will come back safely," she repeated, her voice calm but carrying an undeniable strength.

This time, she will not let anyone get hurt.

Klein looked at her, a smile playing on his lips.

"Yes," he said, "we will."

He reached out and took her hand, feeling the warmth of her palm.

"Together," he said.

Ophelia nodded.

"Together," she repeated.

The sunlight in the courtyard was still very bright.

A morning breeze blows, stirring up fallen leaves on the ground.

They're leaving tomorrow.

Head to that dangerous place.

But at this moment, they were all at peace.

Because they know that whatever awaits them ahead, they will face it together.

Let's fight together.

Let's come back together.