After All, I'm Not Some Demon

"Do you want to die or live?"

Camilla's answer to that question was simple and brutal. A woman in a raging fury was basically irrational. She raised her hand and lashed out with a whip of light condensed from dark power, striking at Duke's position.

With that skill and that presence, no wonder Tiga had kicked her aside.

Perhaps because she had only just revived and lacked strength, Camilla's few lashes were weak and limp, utterly lacking the queen's ruthless decisiveness. Duke kept one foot on Hitler and merely shifted his body a few times to dodge them all.

Camilla snorted coldly. The Dark Light Whip transformed into a slender blade. She gripped the sword in her right hand, bent her elbow, and thrust straight at Duke's chest. Her swordsmanship advanced and retreated with lightning speed, clearly tempered by countless lives on the battlefield. There were no fixed forms, only the pursuit of swift, ruthless killing efficiency.

Duke turned aside and evaded the blade aimed at his chest. Camilla changed her stroke, spinning both herself and the sword as she swept at Duke's torso. Duke dodged sideways again, but he had forgotten that this was a light sword—the kind that could extend. The instant he moved aside, the blade suddenly shot forward, scraping a shower of sparks from his chest.

He was not injured, but Duke was still annoyed. Probably because his attempt to look cool had failed.

Duke raised his right foot and kicked Hitler, who had been pinned beneath it, toward Camilla. Teleportation flickered, and he threw a rapid series of punches into her chest, beating her down onto her knees in a miserable state.

Teleportation!

Duke appeared at Camilla's side and brought both clasped fists down like a hammer. With a boom, he smashed her to the