Not a Saint After All

Not enemies...

Hearing that, Shuen did not feel relieved in the slightest.

On the contrary, he became even more nervous.

Though such a reaction was shameful for a seasoned True Swordsman who had seen countless battles, when the young man spoke and everyone else turned their gazes toward him, Shuen vaguely felt an overwhelming pressure bearing down on him.

It made Shuen realize that these young masters and young ladies, all far younger than himself and seemingly here for a countryside outing, might each be stronger than him.

An astonishing sharpness radiated from the Golden Sword held by that timid-looking little girl with the overly well-developed figure.

The yawning girl carried a faint scent of blood about her.

The older man and woman each seemed far from ordinary as well—one looked ferocious, while the other had an air of intelligence.

As for the Demoness Sword Saint, who had respectfully stepped back to the young man's side the moment they arrived, there was no need to mention her. She was the one Shuen feared most.

Even Shuen could not help but feel terribly tense under the gazes of such a group.

Ironically, the young man who appeared to be the leader of the group had an extremely weak presence, and Shuen could not sense the slightest aura from him. At first glance, he looked like an ordinary, unremarkable person—perhaps even the sort of transparent figure one would overlook if not paying attention.

Yet Shuen did not dare underestimate him in the least.

After all, for him to be the one calling the shots among this group and be regarded as master by that female Sword Saint, there was no way he could be an ordinary person.

Perhaps he was a powerful mage?

But for a mage to wear so little in