The corrupted Litte laughed maniacally, wildly swinging her sword as she rampaged through the wolf pack.
Finally, the wolf king could no longer stand idly by. With a furious roar, it charged toward Litte.
At that moment, Orson sensed the oppressive aura emanating from the wolf king.
Tier 3!
The soldiers tasked with clearing the forest had somehow failed to eliminate this Tier 3 beast!
This was bad. Litte’s chances of survival were slim.
The wolf king charged at full speed, moving so fast it left afterimages in its wake.
In that instant, Litte muttered a quick chant, and the carpet she had carried with her flew out, lifting her into the air and causing the wolf king’s attack to miss entirely.
Orson’s eyes widened.
That was Tier 3 magic! How was Litte, who didn’t even have Tier 1 magical strength, able to cast such a spell?
Orson’s attention shifted to Litte hovering in the air.
The corrupted Litte radiated an aura of power that was clearly at Tier 3—despite her injuries, which prevented her from using her full strength. Even so, she seemed more than capable of handling the wolf king below.
As expected, the wolf king, having missed its target, appeared momentarily confused as it searched for Litte’s location.
Then, from above, Litte leapt off the carpet, sword in hand, slicing through the air as she descended directly toward the wolf king.
The blade carried a faint black aura.
By the time the wolf king heard the sound of the attack, it was too late to dodge. The forceful strike landed squarely on the wolf king’s back.
The blade pierced three inches into its hide before stopping.
Litte’s heart sank. She tried to pull the sword out, but the wolf king’s tail lashed out, sending her flying.
She slammed into a massive tree, the impact wracking her body with pain and forcing her to cough up blood.
This Tier 3 beast could be classified as a magical beast. Its back, reinforced by its strength, was tougher than most armor.
Even though Litte’s sword had been strengthened, it couldn’t penetrate the wolf king’s hide.
The wolf king was cunning. Although it had appeared panicked while searching for Litte, it had known her location all along. It had intentionally exposed its back to lure her into attacking.
And inexperienced Litte had fallen right into its trap.
The wolf king shook its body, dislodging the sword embedded in its back and letting it fall to the ground. It then began walking slowly toward Litte.
Dazed from the impact, Litte struggled to lift her head. By the time she did, the wolf king was right in front of her.
A flash of lightning illuminated the sky, sharply outlining the wolf king’s face against the darkness.
It opened its mouth slightly, growling softly as it eyed its prey.
Then it opened wide, its massive jaws descending toward Litte.
As the wolf king drew closer, Litte closed her eyes. Half her body was already inside its mouth, and she could smell the metallic tang of blood.
With her free hand, she reached for the dagger strapped to her thigh.
Bracing her knee against the wolf king’s lower jaw and using her left arm to hold its upper jaw at bay, she prevented it from closing its mouth.
Then, with her right hand, she drove the dagger upward into the wolf king’s skull.
The wolf king thrashed violently. Its immense bite force nearly overwhelmed Litte, but she held on.
If her strength gave out, she would be torn in two. This was a fight for survival, with both sides staking their lives.
In the end, the wolf king’s strength waned. Its bite weakened until it finally collapsed, lifeless.
Orson, watching from the shadows, let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.
But then, as the seconds passed and Litte failed to emerge from the wolf king’s jaws, his relief turned to alarm.
Could Litte have perished within the wolf king, taking it down with him?
Just as Orson was about to investigate, a small figure crawled out of the wolf king’s mouth.
Litte panted heavily, the euphoria of survival written all over her face.
So, I can be this strong after all...
But then, a sharp pain stabbed through her head, followed by an overwhelming sense of exhaustion. Leaning against a nearby tree, she collapsed.
After experiencing such a life-and-death struggle, Litte was utterly spent. Even a small beast could easily finish her off now.
At that moment, the sound of footsteps crunching over fallen leaves reached her ears.
“Heh, so you were watching from the shadows all along, weren’t you, Orson?” the corrupted Litte said without turning around. She didn’t need to guess who it was—she had memorized the footsteps of the person she was most familiar with during this time.
From the shadows, Orson stepped forward. He approached Litte, who was slumped against the tree, without saying a word.
“You got close to me, acted like we were so close in front of everyone, all to gain Father’s trust, and then you brought me here to stage an accident and have me killed, didn’t you?” Litte said with a cold laugh, seeing that Orson remained silent. “How disappointing for you. You thought I’d barely reach Tier 1 at most, yet here I am, surpassing expectations and slaying a Tier 3 wolf king. Surprising, isn’t it?”
“Still, you have another chance.” Litte smirked, handing the bloodstained dagger she had used to kill the wolf king to Orson.
“Take this dagger and finish me off. No one will ever know. That way, you can officially become the sole heir to the family.”
“I don’t recall giving you this,” Orson said, inspecting the dagger. “I’ve never seen this weapon before in our household.”
“It was a gift from Miss Celineina.”
“I see.” Orson crouched down, holding the dagger as he moved closer to Litte.
“This role-playing game really should end,” Orson said calmly.
Seeing Orson approach, Litte’s spirits sank even further.
While everything she had said earlier had been speculations, she hadn’t expected Orson to truly be this heartless.
He had played the role of a kind brother and stern teacher so perfectly before.
If he had just kept up the façade, she wouldn’t have minded relinquishing the inheritance without complaint.
But why? Why did Orson have to treat her like this?
Did the past twenty-something days of bonding mean nothing?
From the moment she entered the household, Orson was the only one who didn’t look down on her. He had doted on her, taken her everywhere to learn and gain experience, and taught her everything he knew about swordsmanship and magic without reservation.
Was all of that a lie?
A tear slid down Litte’s cheek as she thought this.
Of course, for someone as capable as Orson, every action had to have a purpose.
Helping her was nothing more than using her.
Unbothered by Litte’s thoughts, Orson wiped the dagger clean and slid it back into the sheath strapped to his left thigh.
“Since it’s a gift from Celineina, you should keep it safe,” Orson said, gently patting Litte on the shoulder.
“You did great. From now on, I’m no longer your teacher.”
“Huh?” Litte blinked, looking at Orson in confusion.
“Congratulations, Litte. You’ve graduated!” Orson declared, his eyes meeting Litte’s.
“Wait... Are you crying?” Noticing the tears streaking Litte’s face, Orson reached out to wipe them away.
But his touch only made Litte burst into louder sobs.
She threw herself into Orson’s chest, crying her heart out.
At that moment, the rain began to fall, pattering softly around them.
Orson held Litte, feeling his trembling body in his arms. He gently patted his back.
“Alright, let’s go home.”
“Father’s waiting to hear about your success.”