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The pink aurora had already vanished by this point, leaving just a crescent moon in the night sky.

Standing above the rubble of what used to be the Eirbower Ducal manor, to the background noise of soldiers’ chatter and war bears’ roars, Roel Ascart was earnestly thinking about a mathematical paradox.

How could 69 enemies give rise to 77 kills?

Meanwhile, it was a complete mess behind him.

“Look at his injuries. Those are obviously caused by my spell. This kill should be credited to me!”

Alicia pointed to a charred corpse on the ground and asserted her point indignantly. To that, Nora calmly provided a rebuttal.

“Miss Alicia, surely an educated person like you should understand the difference between an injury and a killing blow? You might have burned the evil cultist, but it was under my sword that he was slain.”

“And we’re supposed to just take your word for it? We talk evidence here, Your Highness Nora. Are you going to unsheath your sword and have it testify on your behalf?”

“You’re being unreasonable, Alicia. It’s unsightly to watch you desperately argue your way through. Just accept your loss!”

“I’d return those words to you. We were the ones who killed the enemy leader! Isn’t it a given that we have contributed the most to this fight?”

“What nonsense are you spouting here? He self-exploded!”

Nora and Alicia were arguing vehemently over their respective contributions to the battle. Charlotte was busy handling the transaction she had made with the Eirbower Duke. Lilian was checking on the corpses.

Roel felt a splitting headache. He was thankful to have survived the assassination attempt from the Saints Convocation, but he felt like he was going to get stressed out by the tabulation errors at this rate.

There was no way the ladies could trust one another to judge this competition fairly, so they assigned a representative each to tabulate their own results before reporting it. This was also where things got weird.

Somehow, there were 77 kills despite there only being 69 evil cultists—and this was including the self-destructed Francis.

So… who died twice?

As soon as this mathematical paradox surfaced, Roel knew that things weren’t going to end pretty. Nora and Alicia had already started bickering with each other, and it was likely that Charlotte and Lilian would join the fray once they were done with the work they had on hand.

Just thinking about the mess made Roel massage his temples in distress. It was then that he suddenly heard Lilian’s voice.

“Roel, come here for a moment.”


At Lilian’s call, Roel began making his way over to her side. The arguing Nora and Alicia exchanged glances, and they came to an implicit mutual decision to postpone their argument and headed over too. The three of them soon arrived by Lilian’s side, where the imperial princess was currently gazing at a corpse on the ground.

Are they going to start arguing over this too?


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