The Silvermane Guards Questioned Everything: That Little Girl Was Dangerous!

The Fine Steel spear shafts bent at impossible angles in midair.

Crack! Crack! Crack!

More than a dozen broken Fine Steel spearheads flew off.

They spun into the snowbanks nearby without so much as a sharp sound. The snow swallowed them whole.

The charge had carried too much momentum.

With nothing left for their spears to strike, the dozen or so Silvermane Guards at the front lost their balance.

Like bowling pins hurled forward, they pitched headfirst into the knee-deep snow.

Their heavy silver armor slammed together.

Clang! Clang!

Helmets struck comrades' breastplates, and armored boots kicked fellow soldiers in the back.

More than a dozen guards rolled into a tangled heap of metal in the snow.

White powder burst more than six feet into the air.

March 7th held up her Six-Phased Ice bow.

The bowstring was still taut against her fingers, leaving a deep red mark across their pads.

Her mouth hung open. She had forgotten to lower the bow.

The counterattack she had just prepared froze halfway through.

Cold wind blew into her mouth. She coughed hard twice, nearly bringing tears to her eyes.

Gepard stood at the rear of the formation.

His composure vanished. The muscles along his jaw clenched tight.

His teeth ground together.

"A High-Frequency Stealth Shield Generator?"

He lowered his voice and stared at the little white-haired girl.

As far as anyone in Belobog knew, only advanced defense technology left behind by the Corporation could snap more than a dozen Fine Steel spears in an instant.

But every shield had a limit to how much damage it could take.

With enough force, he could smash straight through it.

Gepard did not hesitate.

He shoved aside the two Iron Guards in front of him.

His heavy armored boots stepped through the pits his comrades had left in the snow as he strode out of formation.

With one hand, he seized the heavy shield shaped like a giant instrument case.

A deep blue glow flared across its thick metal face.

It was the power of the Path of Preservation.

Even the howling wind and snow seemed drawn toward the shield.

Frost spread rapidly along its edges, forming a thick layer of sharp icicles.

"Fall back!"

Gepard's roar rose above the storm.

He swung the heavy shield with his powerful arm.

His waist twisted, driving his upper body through half a turn in the snow.

Howling through the wind, the massive shield came down like an iceberg.

It hurtled straight toward Su Chen's face.

The blow carried such weight that the compressed air burst with a sound like muffled thunder.

Gepard meant to smash the invisible shield generator outright.

Su Chen did not even lift his eyelids.

His two small, pale hands remained tucked into the pockets of his black uniform.

A strawberry-flavored lollipop bulged in his cheek as he slowly savored its sweetness.

The heavy shield came down.

The icicles infused with Preservation power stopped half an inch from his nose.

They could go no farther.

There was no earth-shaking explosion.

Only a dull impact that made everyone's eardrums ache.

It was like punching a solid block of lead with all one's strength.

The force vanished completely, with nowhere to go.

Gepard's expression changed.

What he had struck did not feel like an energy shield.

It felt like a Wall of Sighs stretching on without end.

The Preservation power coating his shield disappeared without raising so much as a ripple.

Then—

An incomprehensibly violent backlash surged through the shield.

Crack!

Fractures raced across the icicles coating its surface.

They exploded into a cloud of white ice powder that covered Gepard's face.

Gepard's whole body jolted.

With a sharp pop, the skin between the thumb and forefinger of his shield hand split open.

The flesh peeled back, and warm blood spurted out.

Agony shot straight to his head.

His right arm went numb, losing all sensation.

His heavy metal bracer creaked under the strain.

Gepard could no longer hold on to the shield handle.

The terrifying backlash sent him staggering backward.

His armored boots carved two deep furrows through the frozen ground.

He stumbled back five full steps.

His back slammed into an Iron Guard who had not yet managed to get up.

They fell into the snow together, throwing up a broad cloud of powder.

The blizzard still raged across the frozen plain.

Gepard knelt on one knee.

He gasped for breath. His lungs felt full of broken glass, and every breath tasted strongly of blood.

His chest heaved, making the joints of his armor click softly.

He lowered his head and looked at his right hand.

His Fine Steel gauntlet had been warped by the impact.

The gash between his thumb and forefinger was deep, its torn flesh curling outward.

Warm blood welled through the gaps in the gauntlet. Drip. Drip.

Crimson drops fell onto the pristine white snow.

Each one instantly melted a small, glaring red pit.

Against the gray frozen plain, the contrast of red and white was stark.

Gepard's entire right arm was spasming.

His muscles twitched uncontrollably, making the deformed gauntlet clink.

He tried to make a fist.

His fingers were too stiff to bend.

He had lost the use of that hand for now.

The surrounding Silvermane Guards stopped moving.

The soldiers behind them, who had not yet charged, gripped their spears tight with both hands.

Their spearpoints wavered in the wind.

Through their visors, they stared at their Defender, kneeling on one knee and covered in blood.

Then they looked at the little white-haired girl, still standing where she had been without so much as a wrinkle in her clothes.

Fear spread through the Iron Guards' formation like ink bleeding across paper.

This was Officer Gepard.

Belobog's strongest shield. The embodiment of the will to preserve.

He had not even touched a hair on her head, yet the backlash had torn his hand open and forced him to his knee?

The Iron Guards' defense crumbled.

Not their physical line, but their resolve.

A few soldiers at the front swallowed and instinctively edged half a step back.

Their boots made timid shuffling sounds in the snow.

The battle formation that had stood firm as rock turned loose and disordered.

She was not human.

She was a monster wearing a little girl's skin.

Su Chen sighed.

He pulled his small hands from his uniform pockets.

Looking rather bored, he smoothed down his white hair where the wind had ruffled it.

"Are you done yet?"

His childish voice sounded utterly bored.

It was not loud, but it carried far through the storm, reaching every Iron Guard's ears.

"I haven't even tried yet, and you're all on the ground."

Gepard braced his good left hand on his knee and slowly rose.

He swayed, then planted his boots firmly in the snow and managed to steady himself.

Blood still dripped from his right hand, staining a small patch of snow red.

He stared hard at Su Chen.

The Defender's mind raced.

We can't beat him.

There's no chance.

Numbers and tactics could not close a gap like this.

If he ordered another attack, all these Iron Guards would die here today, their bodies left on the snowy plain.

As a soldier, he did not fear death.

But he could not send his men to die for nothing.

Gepard clenched his teeth.

He swallowed a mouthful of blood-tinged saliva.

He waved his left hand.

At his signal, every Iron Guard lowered their spear and stood down.

The soldiers stepped back together, visibly relieved.

He slung the heavy, instrument-case-shaped shield onto his back.

The movement pulled at the wound on his right arm, and Gepard grunted.

Cold sweat broke out on his forehead and swiftly chilled in the wind.

He straightened his back.

He looked at the Astral Express Crew.

"Who are you, exactly?"

Gepard's voice was hoarse. Its earlier hardness was gone, replaced by weary resignation.

"If you've come to negotiate..."

He paused. His gaze swept over the little white-haired girl, and his tone softened.

"I'll take you to see the Supreme Guardian."

At those words, Su Chen's cheeks drew in sharply.

Crunch.

He bit straight through the strawberry lollipop in his mouth.

Candy crackled between his teeth as he chewed.

He raised a small, pale hand and pushed his slipping sunglasses up his nose.

His azure eyes gleamed with audacity.

"Why didn't you say that sooner?"

Little Satoru Gojo spat out the plastic lollipop stick.

"Lead the way. I was going to meet your boss anyway."