Because I Am Surtr

Only pure physical means could bring all of this to an end. But how could a strong and sturdy Martial Saint reach a place like this?

"Exactly." Surtr nodded. The flames on the Flame Sword gradually died away, leaving only its black-red blade. "Then let me ask you this: are you skilled in close-quarters combat under conditions where you cannot cast Arts?"

"I..." The girl's body stiffened slightly. How could a gravely ill caster like her know close-quarters combat? Even if she knew how to use Originium Arts against warriors at close range, that did not mean she could wrestle Ursus's savage bears with her bare hands!

"That is why I am here... Come, take my hand."

A pale hand appeared before Yelena. It was an invitation.

And once she took it, the path ahead would no longer be hers to choose.

"Why did you choose me, Miss Surtr?" Before taking that hand, Yelena looked seriously at the flame-haired swordswoman. In her eyes, even with the flames extinguished, the beauty before her still radiated an unusual brilliance.

"I am neither pretty nor cute, and I am covered in wounds. And if it is my power you want, then once this treatment is over, I will be far weaker than before."

"Do I need a reason to save you?" Miss Surtr, an ordinary otaku, shook her head. In the end, she did not utter that fatal declaration: Because you are my 2D wife. After thinking for a moment, she decided to add one more thing. "If you feel bad about it, then smile more often. I like the way you smile. Consider that my payment."

—Whether it was an illusion or not, Miss Surtr felt as though Yelena's heart had skipped a beat in reality.

Then, a small cold hand settled into her palm.

She held it lightly, drew a quiet breath, and began to dance upon the blade.

She danced a waltz. Blood was her road, and the sword her step. The Ursus mine overseers formed from Originium through the shadows in Yelena's heart collapsed beneath her blade like toppled building blocks. She advanced, and they met her charge. She cut them down, and they died.

There was no blood, because everything was an illusion.

Perhaps there were wails and roars, but they were not enough to make her avert her gaze.

Holding Yelena, she slaughtered her way from one end of the mine of memories to the other. With every person she killed, the surroundings and structure blurred a little more. By the time the sword dance came to an end, only a tiny corner of that mine of memories remained.

A pair of parents and an elderly woman embraced a small rabbit-eared girl, holding each other close.

Only then did Miss Surtr realize that Yelena's eyes had never left her face from the very beginning.

She felt somewhat confused.

"Is there something so interesting about my face?" The otaku made a hopelessly straight-girl remark.

"Not bad."

"Huh?"

Surtr blinked.

Then, accompanied by a faintly sweet cold breeze, the girl in her arms had already left her and rushed toward the last remaining corner of memory—she knew that Yelena's parents and grandmother did not truly exist here. They were merely imitations formed from a part of Yelena's subconscious.

There was no danger there, so she let Yelena go.

And when those elderly figures smiled and nodded at her with strangely affectionate expressions, she too gave them a slight bow out of the habit of respecting the old and caring for the young from her previous life.

And with that, everything came to an end.

Miss Surtr returned to the secret base in reality.

She checked the time. It had been exactly an hour and a half since she began. Once she pulled out Laevateinn, the wound in Frostnova's chest healed at a visible rate. And with the extensive use of medicine, the instrument's reading for infection level rapidly dropped to a low value.

Ah, it seemed everything had gone smoothly. That was good.

Not much time had been wasted either, so her planned meeting with Miss W probably would not need to be canceled—better still.

Now, she only needed to wait for Frostnova to wake up. Once she handled the final steps, this operation could be considered a perfect success.

She nodded, her heart full of a victor's pride and satisfaction.

She just did not know why the back of her head felt a little chilly—had she been frozen by the cold?

There might be two updates today. I hope more people will read it.

Section Four: The Troubles of a Girl Who Crossed Worlds

Dr. Chunxian had put it well: food had to be eaten, and beautiful girls had to be eaten too. Only then could one be considered healthy.

Unfortunately, Miss Surtr was not Dr. Chunxian, who was active in the mud-pit Anke threads. Though she was Sarkaz, she did not possess any mischievous succubus bloodline or convenient magic eyes.

More importantly, although she had now been tempered by blood and crossed countless battlefields, in certain special situations she did not normally encounter, some remnants of her otaku nature still remained—when she licked her 2D wives in front of a computer, she had no idea what shame even was. Yet when a real person lay helplessly before her, this useless woman suddenly became both gentlemanly and ladylike.

She had lust, but no nerve. Utterly useless.

She had nerve, but no lust. Worse than useless.

She changed Frostnova's clothes, applied medicine, and cleaned her up. Without question, she touched what she should and should not have touched, and saw what she should and should not have seen. And then—

—Then she did nothing unnecessary.

She merely placed Frostnova on the prepared hospital bed and sat beside her, flipping through a collection of Tagore poems whose original manuscript did not exist in this world while considering her next steps.

Her meeting with Miss W would have to wait until after the Reunion Movement's operation. Before that, she still needed to save Scout's squad—after all, she had been a Doctor in Arknights in her previous life. She could not just watch her "old subordinates" charge headfirst into certain death!

And Talulah... Damn it, three years ago she had clearly confirmed Talulah's mental state. She had chopped that undead old cockroach to death. She had thought it was foolproof, yet she had still been outmaneuvered? Fate always loved playing jokes on her. Just like when she assassinated Theresis, only to discover that the one who died was merely a substitute. Then, after she went through untold hardships to return to Sarkaz Babel Tower, she found that Theresia had been stolen away during the very time she was carrying out that operation!?

Could none of them let her have a moment of peace!

Kal'tsit, Theresia, that mentally ill Miss Doctor... Damn it, when she went over there later, she would have to make sure that bastard could leave Chernobog safely. At the very least, she could not let her own ACE die!

My head hurt. It hurt like hell.

If I were still at my peak, I'd definitely have popped Twilight right there during the Chernobog operation and wiped out every last one of those hotheaded idiots! But my current condition just wasn't perfect... Okay, that was only an excuse I came up with on the spot, but if I could clear it with a GE, why the hell should I settle for an NE!?

Besides, I still had dreams to go dream tonight!

That was the real headache. The moment Miss Surtr thought of the dreams she still had to experience, a wave of sorrow washed over her. Her entire body went limp as she slumped into her chair, every inch the salted fish. After all, in her previous life, she hadn't merely been an Arknights player in Arknights. Transmigrators always came with their own cheats!

It was what had allowed her to grow from a weakling who couldn't even hold a sword steady into what she was now in just five short years. It was also the responsibility and obligation she had to shoulder in return for those benefits.

And yet, whenever she closed her eyes under the right circumstances, the voices filling her ears—

Captain/Commander/Ash/Hunter/General/Dragonborn/Champion/Master/Traveler, there are still many worlds you have yet to save. You cannot rest just yet—

Still gave her one hell of a headache!

Enough already!

Stop acting like Amiya!