"Shocking!! Extremist Elf Declares Enrollment at Lord Howe!"

When Frea Khan first saw the news that an elf had come to Earth to enroll at the academy, her initial reaction was sheer disbelief.

'What kind of stupid nonsense is this?'

An elf coming to Earth’s academy? Forget education—if the elf wasn’t kidnapped, it would already be a miracle.

Sure, the Malta Agreement had supposedly halted all “official” conflicts between Earth and the realms beyond the dimensional gates… but Earth was still Earth, and elves were still elves.

Humans hadn’t forgotten the terrorist attacks by elves driven by revenge.

And the elves hadn’t forgotten the chemical defoliants that had ravaged their forests or the hydrogen bombs that had fallen on the World Tree.

'Maybe they wanted to be a symbol of peace?'

It was a plausible enough reason.

With all the superhumans who could teach them in their own world, why would an elf bother coming to Earth to attend an academy?

Either they were insane, or they had a naive dream of peace… or maybe both.

'Well, daydreaming is free, I guess.'

That’s as far as Frea’s thoughts went. Whether the foolish elf became a symbol of peace or simply died on Earth, it wasn’t her concern.

But just half a day later…

When the Australian government “asked” her, in the form of an order, she was floored.

"You’ll need to protect the elf princess."

The identity of the foolish elf from the news was none other than a direct descendant of Demerond Ip Marx. In fact, she was his daughter.

"The daughter of that crazy communist elf leader? What the hell was the Korean government thinking, letting that make the news?"

"You think the Korean government knew? They’re not stupid enough to knowingly let this happen... probably."

"So, they don’t even know? Then they still don’t know? And we’re not going to tell them? And now I’m supposed to find this elf and act as her bodyguard?"

Frea had been on vacation, and the absurdity of the situation made her protest. But it was no use.

"The news only came out a day ago. If we find her before anyone else does, we can pass her along with no trouble."

"Ugh, this is ridiculous."

"We’ve already roughly located her. The issue is finding personnel capable of protecting her with minimal force. Sending our agents could cause diplomatic issues."

"And that’s why you called me?"

"You’re the fastest deployable asset we have in Australia."

"Lovely."

"I know it’s a burden to ask this of you, but we can’t risk another Sarajevo, even remotely."

"…Sarajevo?"

"It’s just a worst-case scenario."

The Sarajevo Incident. A century ago, it referred to the assassination of Archduke Ferdinand in Sarajevo.

In modern times, it’s better known as the spark that ignited World War I.

It was obvious why the Australian government was bringing it up. If something were to happen to the elf princess—if she were injured or killed—the elves might just declare war again.

"Fine. Threaten me all you want, I’ll go."

As soon as Frea accepted the task, the Australian government passed all the relevant information to her.

Details about the elf princess, her companions, photos, and the last known location.

Frea memorized everything quickly and headed straight for Korea.

From Melbourne to Incheon, 8,500 kilometers.

She didn’t usually use magical items, but this time she employed every tool at her disposal to fly as fast as possible. Time was of the essence—after all, they had brought up Sarajevo.

She left Melbourne as the sun was setting and arrived in Incheon before it rose.

'In this massive city, I’m supposed to find two elves?'

The government had made it sound easy, but Incheon was much larger than she’d expected.

'Guess I’ll have to use brute force.'

She could have used items to track their mana one by one, but time was a problem. With no other choice, she spread her mana as far as she could, shutting down all her other senses to focus purely on detecting mana.

According to the information from the Australian government, both the princess and her companion were superhumans. If that was true, they’d have to use mana at some point. The moment they did, she would trace it.

It was a simple and crude method, but it was effective.

Sure enough, shortly after releasing her mana, she picked up two strong mana signatures moving intensely.

'Got them.'

In a back alley of a place called MacArthur Market, inside a rundown building.

Not the kind of place that suited elves, but good enough for hiding.

Without delay, Frea flew to where the two superhumans were...

And that’s when she encountered a strange guy using elf swordsmanship, who wasn’t even an elf.

 

"Are you some kind of elf spy planted on Earth?"

Frea tilted her head, clearly puzzled.

"...I really don’t understand what you’re saying," Dung Beetle replied with a genuinely confused expression. His acting was so good that even Frea, after witnessing his swordsmanship earlier, had to wonder if he was bluffing.

"Hah, you really look like a spy… but an elf using a human as a spy? Not likely."

She pondered for a moment before reaching behind her. Mana rippled, revealing two sword sheaths that had been hidden by magic.

One was an elaborately decorated white scabbard, so ornate it looked like a work of art. The other was a plain black scabbard with no embellishment.

These were her twin swords, the very ones that had earned her the title of "Holy Sword" long before she became Australia’s pride.

Seeing them up close, Dung Beetle narrowed his eyes, trying to mask his emotions.

"So, why exactly is the Holy Sword threatening me?"

Instead of answering, Frea drew the white blade from its sheath.

Shing, a long sword as thick as two fingers revealed itself. The shining blade, adorned with the intricate design of a swan, exuded both beauty and a sharp killing intent.

"When someone like me does it, it’s called a lesson, not a threat."

She grinned and tossed the sword.

Whirr—Thud. The white blade drew a wide arc before planting itself at Dung Beetle’s feet.

"Draw it."

Dung Beetle looked between her and the sword in confusion.

"...You want me to draw it?"

"I said draw it."

The moment she finished speaking, Frea’s mana surged.

Clang!

Instinctively, Dung Beetle pulled the sword from the ground, just in time to block the blow. The strike was so fast that sparks flew before his eyes.

His hand moved before his eyes could register the attack, but even though he blocked it, the force rattled his hand, threatening to tear it apart.

Another clash followed almost immediately. Clang! The ringing sound of metal echoed as the sword’s edge met blow after blow.

Head, ankle, chest, knee, wrist, shoulder… strikes came from all angles, too fast for him to catch his breath.

It was an onslaught, leaving him no time to think. Dung Beetle had to draw out all his mana and sharpen his senses to keep blocking the blows.

"As I thought, you’re self-taught, aren’t you? You probably cultivated your killing intent without really understanding it," Frea commented casually between attacks, still talking despite the speed of her strikes.

It was only natural. The years she had lived, the amount of mana she controlled, and the mastery of her swordsmanship—all of it was on a different level.

But…

‘This is interesting.’

Dung Beetle’s defenses began catching up to her attacks. His blocks became more precise, and he started breathing easier.

Was he just getting used to her swordsmanship? No, it wasn’t that simple.

Like fire consuming wood, or a hawk descending from the sky, he was instinctively absorbing the swordsmanship itself.

"Wow, this kid’s really something."

The martial artist in her stirred. Fine, let’s see how far you can go.

Her sword picked up speed, mana colliding with mana, generating deafening sounds and pushing the air around them.

Yet, even as the speed increased, Dung Beetle doggedly kept up. His grip bled, his body trembled from the lack of mana, but he didn’t lose focus.

And then, after more than a hundred exchanges…

Dung Beetle’s sword finally moved faster than Frea Khan’s.

Slash—

As the white blade sliced through the air, it split the atmosphere. It was a single strike, shockingly similar to the first one Frea had shown him.

And with that final blow, both of them stepped back.

Frea, out of amazement. Dung Beetle, because he was at his limit.

"Haha, so that’s what’s going on."

Frea smiled widely, looking at Dung Beetle, who was barely standing. He was on the verge of collapse.

"You instantly master the form of any martial art you see… Is that a blessing? Or just raw talent?"

She raised her hand, examining her arm. From her wrist to her forearm, her sleeve had been cleanly cut.

A sign of a deadly blow. A little deeper, and it would have sliced through her arm.

"You actually got me."

She was genuinely impressed. She had almost forgotten why she came to Incheon in the first place.

But her admiration didn’t end there. Even as Dung Beetle gasped for breath, he raised a finger and pointed to her eyepatch.

An eyepatch?

Instinctively, Frea touched the patch over her left eye, only to realize something else had fallen.

Rustle.

A few strands of her honey-colored hair drifted down from her wrist. Dung Beetle’s sword hadn’t just cut her sleeve—it had nicked her hair, too.

Hahahaha!

Seeing her hair fall, Frea burst out laughing.

She stepped forward, laughing heartily, and clapped Dung Beetle on the shoulder.

"You! I really like you!"

"..."

Dung Beetle stared at her in disbelief. How could someone go from trying to kill him one minute to laughing like this the next?

Clearly, documentaries couldn’t be trusted. To portray someone as insane as this as some kind of saint...

"...So, why are you doing this, exactly?"

Dung Beetle sighed and asked, exasperated. Only then did Frea remember her mission.

"Oh, right. The job."

She realized she’d gotten carried away. Her lone eye focused on Dung Beetle again.

"You’ve seen elves in the city, haven’t you?"

"...Elves?"

Dung Beetle frowned. So this was about elves.

"Don’t bother lying. That swordsmanship you used—it’s from fighting an elf, isn’t it? I can tell."

"..."

Dung Beetle kept silent.

He couldn’t predict her intentions, and considering how she had attacked after recognizing elf swordsmanship, it certainly didn’t seem like her motives were good.

After a brief internal debate, he cautiously spoke.

"...May I ask why you’re looking for them?"

"To protect them."

The answer came instantly. No hesitation, no lies. She spoke with absolute conviction.

"You think I attacked you because I’m out to kill some elves? I’m the Holy Sword. I didn’t come all the way here just to slice up an elf."

"..."

Yes, after meeting you, that’s exactly what it seems like you’d do… Dung Beetle thought, barely holding back his words.

Seeing his skeptical expression, Frea waved her hand dismissively.

"That commie elf princess dies on Earth, we’re looking at war again. I’m here to make sure that doesn’t happen. Explanation over. Got it?"

She even knew that she was a princess. Now Dung Beetle understood what was happening.

"Sorry about attacking you first. Just think of it as some over-eager old lady acting out. Now, how about you help me out? You don’t want another war to break out, right?"

Her words were casual and simple, but her intentions were clear. Despite everything, her heart was in the right place, as the documentaries had shown.

Burying his mixed feelings of relief and bewilderment, Dung Beetle finally spoke.

"I met the elves just recently…"

With that, he began recounting his encounter with the elves, though he left out certain details. The part about the local branch head was omitted entirely. What mattered was that the elves had gone to the burned-down warehouse, nothing more.

"So, the elf princess went to a burned-down warehouse, and that’s the last you know?" Frea confirmed after his explanation. Dung Beetle nodded and gave her rough directions to the warehouse.

But then…

"Even with your directions, I don’t really get it. No map?"

"..."

"How about you just take me there yourself?"

Her shamelessness was beyond anything Dung Beetle could have imagined.

"I mean, I’ll make you my disciple as a reward."

No, she was beyond shameless. She was completely out of her mind.