Although Roland had taken hardly any time at all to tear open space and step out complaining, performing the entire sequence in one fluid motion.
To the two girls locked in a fierce confrontation, their ultimate moves already primed, it was no different from a thunderbolt crashing down on their heads.
Ignoring the hair-trigger atmosphere around them, like a Western cowboy duel to the death, both turned warily at Roland's entrance, which felt less like a divine warrior descending from heaven and more like a demon knocking at the door.
"...Roland?"
After making out the figure beyond the fissure, for some reason, Lorelei Barthomeloi's voice also took on a note of disbelief.
His face still wore the same smile, as warm as sunshine, that he had shown at their first meeting.
Yet watching him calmly walk in after tearing her trump card apart through brute force, the girl simply could not reconcile him with her previous impression.
"Hello, Miss Lorelei Barthomeloi."
Roland greeted her with a cheerful smile.
"I know it's very rude to suddenly interrupt someone else's duel."
"But there's something I need to verify with this Water Demon right now, so I had no choice but to use a slightly forceful approach to make you yield her to me."
"...I understand."
Though she still had not gotten over Roland's dazzling entrance, Lorelei Barthomeloi had already regained her usual composure and calm.
Normally, the humiliation of having someone steal her opponent or prey would probably have made the girl faint with rage.
That was no figure of speech, but something that could actually happen.
Even standing at the pinnacle of the modern era, Lorelei Barthomeloi still could not resist the profound hatred and obsession toward Dead Apostles engraved in her blood.
But that was different from failing to appreciate