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The two wailing swords effortlessly handled Siris’s scimitars. Surprised by the sensation, as if she had struck an iron wall, Siris somersaulted backwards to create some distance.

“What, what is this?”

Gripping the glowing twin swords in his hands, Jalkato shouted boldly.

“It’s useless! Elf warrior! A weapon is my very soul! The soul of a warrior does not break!”

Siris, at a loss for words, stared at Jalkato’s swords. Blades emitting a white light?

“Could it be aura?”

But Siris quickly shook her head. While it seemed similar on the surface, it was definitely not aura. For one, it wasn’t bright enough to be considered blade aura.

At that moment, she heard Repenhardt’s shout from behind her.

“Don’t be alarmed, Siris! It’s the orcs’ secret technique, Spirits Weapon!”

All orcs were born warriors.

To such orcs, a weapon was not a mere tool. It was another part of themselves, closer even than a blood relative or a spouse, a comrade-in-arms connected by soul.

Thus, a true orc warrior could communicate with the soul of their weapon. A weapon forged in a warrior’s hands received a part of their soul, becoming a great weapon that shone with that soul’s brilliance. This belief led to the unique orc technique of Spirits Weapon, where they drew out the soul of the weapon to fight alongside them.

The ability to call forth the soul of the weapon by name and use Spirits Weapon was proof of a true warrior among the orcs.

Raising his sword proudly, Jalkato shouted triumphantly.

“My sword will not break unless you defeat me!”

A shout full of the exuberance of a true warrior, the orcs watching the Ritual of Hotu roared in unison.

“Ooooooooh!”

“Kraaaaaah!”

Meanwhile, Siris scrutinized Jalkato with a frown. Although Repenhardt’s advice not to panic was appreciated…

‘So what is it exactly?’

Just telling the name was not helpful. He should have given a more practical explanation, right?

Realizing his mistake, Repenhardt quickly added.

“Just think of it as making the sword incredibly tough and sharp!”

In truth, a skilled orc warrior could use Spirits Weapon in many more ways, but explaining that would require setting up a lecture right there.

“Ah…”

And that explanation was enough for Siris.

‘So it’s a technique unique to the orcs, similar to Tilla’s Earth Resonance?’

Although the performance had startled her a bit, upon hearing it, it didn’t seem like such a grand technique.

‘It’s just like fighting an opponent wielding a famed sword, isn’t it?’

Considering the cost of renowned swords, it was certainly an economical technique, but it wasn’t something that would drastically change the battle. Compared to the power boost from Tilla’s technique, it seemed quite lacking.

Siris, now reassured, calmed her surprise and lunged forward again. Her silver scimitar performed a dazzling sword dance.

“Haaap!”

“Groooar!”

Jalkato, letting out a roar fitting of an orc, reentered the fray. In an instant, they were within striking distance. At that moment, Siris suddenly lowered her body and launched a sweeping kick. Expecting an attack from the sword, Jalkato was caught off guard and swung his dual blades low to block the attack.

‘Got you!’

With a gleam in her eyes, Siris retracted her kick. Unlike a sword, a kick could be pulled back midway. Narrowly avoiding the dual blades, Siris immediately stomped hard on the side of the blade, which was now lowered.

“Taat!”

Seizing the opportunity, Siris immobilized Jalkato’s blades and launched a slashing attack. Jalkato’s expression hardened. If he hesitated over the trapped sword, he would lose his head.

“Ugh!”

In the end, Jalkato had no choice but to let go of his swords and quickly leap back to evade the attack.

‘I won!’

Siris smiled triumphantly. What clearer sign of defeat was there than a warrior letting go of his weapon? It was the moment she was sure of her victory.

Suddenly, Jalkato extended his hand and shouted in Orcish.

“My allies!”

At that moment, the two swords that had fallen to the ground flew up on their own and hurtled towards Siris. Her eyes widened in shock.

‘W-What is this!’

It was beyond her imagination. The swords that had been lying on the ground were now floating in the air and striking at her. Startled, Siris hurriedly raised her scimitar and deflected the two swords.

Clang! Clang!

Metallic sounds rang out as her scimitar clashed with the dual blades, creating a cacophony. Siris forcefully pushed the floating swords away. The repelled swords started to drift back towards Jalkato.

From behind, Repenhardt’s exclamation followed.

“Oh, right. Sometimes the swords fly on their own!”

Even the composed Siris couldn’t help but feel infuriated hearing this. How could he omit such crucial information?

“Human! You should have said that first!”

Outraged, Siris yelled, then took a deep breath to calm herself. Jalkato, now wielding the two floating swords again, expressed his admiration.

“Truly remarkable, Elf warrior. I didn’t expect to fight alongside my weapons.”

Regaining her composure, Siris muttered with a wry smile.

“Well, considering it’s the secret of an entire race, it’s no surprise it involves more than just enhancing weapon performance.”

Jalkato’s attack continued relentlessly. As she parried repeatedly, Siris broke into a cold sweat. His technique of deftly wielding dual swords remained the same as before, but interspersed with his strikes were moves beyond common sense. In the middle of a swing, he would suddenly let go of a sword into the air and attack her left side, while the sword floating in midair would fly towards her right.

“Ugh…”

Siris was continuously pushed back, her expression troubled. Jalkato had been difficult to handle even without these tricks, but now one of his swords was moving independently, attacking unpredictably, making it impossible for her to gain the upper hand.

The only silver lining was that the floating sword’s movements were quite simple. While the sword in Jalkato’s hand struck with precise and lethal trajectories, the flying sword moved with the basic motions of an amateur. Had it been more complex, the outcome of the fight would have already been decided.

Even so, there was no way to overcome the current situation.

‘Do I have to accept defeat like this?’

After all, the purpose of the Ritual of Hotu wasn’t to defeat the opponent. Since she had already forced Jalkato to use his full strength, she could still be recognized as a warrior even if she withdrew now…

‘But I hate losing!’

Siris gritted her teeth. Though she maintained a composed exterior, she was quite competitive by nature. Losing to someone like Repenhardt or Russ, who were aura users, would be understandable due to their different levels, but losing because of a racial ability despite similar skill levels felt unjust.

‘Wait, a racial ability?’

Suddenly, Siris’s eyes lit up. Jalkato was using a unique orc technique. Didn’t elves have their own unique techniques as well?

Yes, they did.

“Aha!”

As if something had clicked, her eyes sparkled. Siris shouted and leapt high into the air. With the agility characteristic of an elf, her form soared far above Jalkato’s head into the sky.

“Huh?”

Jalkato looked up, bewildered. He couldn’t comprehend his opponent’s actions.

‘Why is she doing such a pointless move in the middle of a fight?’

Positioning oneself higher could be advantageous in combat, but there were limits. Jumping that high, without a foothold in the air, would only restrict her own movements. It was a strategy completely misaligned with the principles of combat.

‘I’ve won.’

Feeling assured, Jalkato activated Spirits Weapon, sending both swords hurtling into the air.

“Go, my allies!”

At that moment, a soft, almost melodious voice rang out from above Jalkato’s head.

“My friend Sarana, I call upon you in the name of friendship…”

With her song-like voice, a gust of wind began to gather in the air. The swirling currents of the atmosphere twisted and turned, forming the shape of a cute girl.

Repenhardt, who had been observing the fight, looked astonished.

“The Wind Spirit, Sarana?”

Repenhardt knew well that Siris had been dedicating herself to the practice of spirit magic whenever she had the chance since leaving the Dahnhaim clan. He had been slightly annoyed that he had no time to teach her magic because of this. However, he hadn’t expected her to have reached a level where she could manifest a spirit already.

‘Even with Nihillen’s help, that’s impressive progress.’

The summoned Wind Spirit, Sarana, appeared gracefully and spoke in a mystical voice.

“Did you call for me, my friend Serendi…?”

She was just about to continue her elegant speech when—

Siris stomped on the spirit’s head!

“Squawk!”

A very human-like scream emerged from the mouth of the otherwise mystical Wind Spirit. Using Sarana as a foothold, Siris propelled herself back into the air. Jalkato’s eyes widened as he had thrown his swords, anticipating her descent.

“What the…?”

In an instant, Siris landed behind Jalkato and pointed her sword at his neck.

“Checkmate!”

Jalkato let out a groan and admitted defeat. Stalla raised her hand and shouted loudly.

“The outsider has won!”

Siris returned to her comrades, and Sillan fussed over her.

“Are you okay, Siris? Are you hurt anywhere?”

“I’m fine, Sillan.”

Repenhardt also patted her head gently.

“Well done, Siris.”

“Thank you, Lord Repenhardt.”

Siris smiled warmly at her welcoming companions. Tilla suddenly looked worried.

“But was it okay to stomp on her like that? She seemed pretty upset…”

Tilla had seen it clearly. The Wind Spirit, Sarana, had been muttering something under her breath as she faded away after being rudely used as a stepping stone.

“Her expression looked completely crushed, so I doubt she has any good feelings about it,” Siris said, turning her head to feign disinterest.

Repenhardt added, trying to reassure everyone, “Spirits are pure beings, connected to the very essence of nature. They don’t remember minor events like humans do.”

In other words, by the time Sarana was summoned again, she would have forgotten what had happened. Russ muttered with his mouth agape.

“Is she like a goldfish?”

The image of the mysterious spirit took a significant hit.

Regardless, it was clear that using a spirit in such a manner was not the best approach. Siris silently reflected on her actions.

“Sigh, I shouldn’t do that next time…”

Hearing her low mutter, Repenhardt gave a wry smile. He remembered well. Using the Wind Spirit as a stepping stone mid-air had been one of her favorite techniques in her past life.

‘At one point, she summoned and stepped on twelve spirits at once, didn’t she?’

Despite treating spirits roughly, she had mastered all seven forms of spirit magic, which was both impressive and perplexing.

‘By the end, the Wind Spirits would willingly support her with their hands, so it must not have bothered them too much.’

Having been stepped on so often, the Wind Spirits eventually began to provide a platform for her on their own. This had led Repenhardt to academically ponder whether spirits truly forgot the past.

‘Anyway, Siris… She’s extremely polite usually, but once she gets close to someone, she tends to treat them a bit roughly.’

Seeing Repenhardt staring at her blankly, Siris glanced back as if to ask what was wrong. Shaking his head, Repenhardt looked away. In the distance, Stalla was shouting again.

“The Ritual of Hotu, the second duel will now commence! Those who wish to prove their worth, step forward!”

Although they couldn’t understand Orcish, everyone could guess what Stalla was saying from the tone and context. Tilla grabbed her battle axe with a smile.

“Alright! It’s my turn now.”