Chapter : 342
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Chapter : 342
"But you are incredibly vulnerable," Elma continued rapidly. She ignored his joke completely. She stepped one pace closer. Her face burned even hotter. "Your magic is strictly backline support. You do not carry a sword. You do not wear armor. You cannot take a punch. If an enemy gets close to you, you are completely defenseless. You are fragile."
Ken scratched the back of his messy hair. He thought about his hilarious, slapstick dodging routine in the arena. "I am actually very good at running away. It is my best talent. I have survived a lot of things just by tripping over my own shoes."
"Running away is not a real defense strategy!" Elma argued fiercely. Her eyes sparkled with intense determination. "You need a shield. You need a sword. You need someone to stand directly in front of you and block the attacks before they reach you."
She placed her hands on her hips. She took another deep breath. Her heart hammered wildly inside her chest.
"I am volunteering," Elma announced. Her voice shook just a little bit. "I am officially declaring my intent. I will become your personal, full-time protector."
Ken stopped reaching for a chip. His jaw dropped open just a tiny fraction. "Wait. What?"
Elma’s face turned the color of a ripe tomato. She spoke very fast, rushing to get the words out before she lost her nerve.
"You desperately need a strong knight!" Elma insisted loudly. "I am the best swordswoman in my unit. My defensive forms are flawless. I can protect you. I will stand by your side during every single battle in this war. Nobody will ever touch you."
She paused. She bit her lower lip. She looked down at her shiny boots for a second. Then she looked right back up into his dark eyes.
"And... and when this horrific Succession War is finally over," Elma blurted out, her voice dropping to a shy, breathless whisper. "We should permanently team up. We should stay together. As partners. I will protect you for the rest of your life!"
It was a massive, undeniably obvious romantic confession. She desperately tried to mask it behind her strict, proud knight persona. She tried to frame it as a tactical duty. But the message was crystal clear. She liked him. She wanted to stay with him forever. She wanted to be his partner.
Ken stared at her. He felt completely surprised. He absolutely did not expect a marriage proposal in the middle of a peaceful morning. He just wanted to eat his sour cream and onion chips.
He opened his mouth to reply. He planned to politely decline. He wanted to tell her that he just wanted a quiet potato farm in the countryside. He did not need a personal knight. He did not want to do any extra work to maintain a fancy relationship.
Before Ken could say a single word, a loud noise erupted from the side of the house.
BANG!
The wooden kitchen door slammed open so hard it bounced against the outer wall.
Naomi stormed out of the house.
She held a wooden cooking spoon tightly in her right hand. She wore her dark combat pants and a simple gray training shirt. Her bright red ponytail swung violently behind her as she marched. Her green eyes blazed with absolute, explosive fury. She looked like a fierce dragon bursting out of a cave to defend its treasure.
She had heard the entire conversation through the open kitchen window. Her vanguard pride shattered her patience. A massive wave of thinly veiled jealousy burned hot in her chest.
Naomi marched straight across the courtyard. She stomped her boots aggressively on the stones. She stepped right between Ken and Elma. She turned her back to Ken. She faced the blonde intruder head-on.
"Absolutely not!" Naomi shouted loudly. She pointed the wooden spoon directly at Elma’s face. "You back off right now, you shiny blonde intruder!"
Elma gasped. She took a quick step backward in shock. She quickly recovered her arrogant posture. She glared fiercely at Naomi. "Excuse me? This conversation does not concern you, Naomi. I am speaking directly to Ken."
"It concerns me entirely!" Naomi yelled back. She planted her free hand on her hip. The wooden spoon waved aggressively in the air. "Ken is a registered member of the 13th Unit! He lives in this estate! He belongs to our team! Protecting this annoying slacker is my job!"
Ken raised his hand lazily from the fountain. "For the record, I do not belong to anyone. I belong to the couch. The couch is my true home."
"Quiet, Ken!" Naomi scolded instantly without turning around.
She glared at Elma again. Her green eyes locked with Elma's blue eyes.
"I am the vanguard leader of this unit," Naomi declared proudly. "I stand in the front. I block the attacks. I have protected him perfectly fine so far. We do not need a snobby rival stepping into our courtyard and offering to do my job!"
Elma crossed her arms over her chest. She lifted her chin proudly, refusing to back down. "You call yourself a protector? You almost let him get crushed by a giant centipede monster in that underground bunker. I had to watch him fall down an elevator shaft because you were entirely too slow to block the stinger."
Naomi’s face turned bright red. The memory struck a massive nerve. Her guilt over that incident instantly fueled her anger even higher.
"That was one time!" Naomi shouted fiercely. "And he survived! I am incredibly fast! I can dodge spells! I can parry swords! I can protect him way better than you ever could! You do not care about his safety. You just want an excuse to hold his hand!"
Elma gasped loudly. Her face matched Naomi’s bright red color. "That is a complete lie! I am offering tactical support for a defenseless mage! It is purely professional and highly necessary!"
"You literally just asked him to stay with you forever!" Naomi screamed back. "That is not professional! That is a romance novel!"
The two elite warriors stepped closer to each other. They glared intensely. They looked completely ready to draw their weapons and start a massive, destructive brawl right next to the fountain.
---
The shouting match echoed across the entire courtyard. Startled birds flew out of the nearby trees. The noise was incredibly loud.
Ken sat comfortably on the edge of the stone fountain. He did not run away. He did not try to stand up. He did not attempt to stop the argument. He simply reached his hand into his crinkling bag. He pulled out another potato chip. He popped it into his mouth.
Crunch. Crunch.
He chewed happily. He rested his chin on his hand. He watched the two fierce girls yell at each other. He found the entire situation absolutely hilarious.
"This is honestly better than watching television," Ken thought to himself casually. A lazy smile spread across his face. "They are literally fighting over who gets to block swords for me. This is the greatest slacker victory of all time. I do not have to lift a single finger, and I get free bodyguards. I am a genius."