The Time-Stop Breeding Uncle Want's to Retire-Chapter 141

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This had happened before Hans departed for the Human Kingdom.

The women of the Royal Knights had gathered and discussed the situation. They had received much help from the Commander, but they couldn’t rely on him forever.

They decided to handle the matter before Hans had to intervene.

Everyone agreed.

They knew the Commander was strong.

However, if he had to deal with every single issue personally, it would be an undue burden.

More importantly, the Commander was their most valuable asset. Exposing that asset needlessly was strategically unsound.

Clara declared that she would handle it herself.

This was a direct provocation to Ayanhar.

‘After all the hardship I’ve endured… How dare some unknown Elf interfere?’

Ayanhar was enraged.

“Don’t interrupt my duel!!!”

Quarentz, trained as a Royal Knight candidate, possessed skills rivaling Melissa, the Captain of the Royal Guard.

His speed was overwhelming, surpassing even high-ranking knights of other races.

Yet, Clara reacted to his speed without difficulty.

She struck Ayanhar’s fist from below, sending his arm flying upwards. With his abdomen exposed,

Clara seized the opportunity. Her sword flashed from its sheath at her hip, slicing deeply into Ayanhar’s side.

Ayanhar looked at Clara and said,

“…So, you’re not completely useless.”

“You’ve got a surprisingly cool head for a bull.”

“A duel with a strong opponent is all I desire. Good! Come, strong one!”

“Truly a dog—no, a bull—crazed for battle.”

Hans clicked his tongue at Ayanhar’s declaration.

Facing two opponents at once was no easy feat. Ayanhar’s willingness to fight to the death was unsettling.

Clara, unfazed, prepared for the duel. She wanted to handle this on her own. As she took her stance, Ayanhar charged.

Clara effortlessly evaded Ayanhar’s ferocious charge, calculating her strategy.

‘He has the advantage in strength, but I’m faster. Speed will be the key to victory.’

“Will you only run?!”

“Why don’t you take a look at your arm?”

“…?!”

A deep gash now marred Ayanhar’s arm.

Clara had cut him while dodging.

Amazingly, Hans witnessed every move, every subtle detail that would have been invisible to others.

Ayanhar was undoubtedly stronger.

He had been formidable before, nearing the strength of a demon, but now he rivaled a Blood Demon.

‘How could a mere monster grow so powerful?’

Demons lived in a strict hierarchical society based on power. Blood Demons were recognized and given names, but those below were scorned as lesser demons. Ṝ𝐀ƝОᛒĚŝ

Monsters were considered even lower.

Yet, Ayanhar had surpassed his limitations.

He was now strong enough to surpass even some Blood Demons in a direct confrontation. Unfortunately for him, he had chosen the wrong opponent.

“Impressive!!”

Despite his increased strength, Ayanhar couldn’t match Clara’s speed. As he had grown stronger, so had the Royal Knights.

The Royal Knights were an assembly of individuals with the potential to become legendary heroes.

They had trained relentlessly, honing their skills and gaining invaluable experience.

“This is nothing compared to a True Blood!!”

True Bloods were far faster and stronger. Compared to them, Ayanhar felt like a mere infant to Clara.

Hans watched in awe.

‘Have Blood Demons become insignificant now?’

“Excellent! Excellent! A worthy opponent after so long!!”

Even facing a superior opponent, Ayanhar’s spirit remained unbroken. He charged again, his fighting spirit blazing.

Crack!

Ayanhar’s fist connected with Clara’s right arm.

Clara was still faster. But Ayanhar had anticipated her movements, exploiting a blind spot to land a blow.

“So, you’re not as weak as you look.”

“Come at me with your full strength. Only then will my victory be worthwhile!”

“I can still endure this.”

“…?”

Hans sensed something amiss.

Why was Clara relying on close-quarters combat with her sword? Her true strength lay elsewhere.

His question was answered before he could voice it.

“Let’s pick up the pace, shall we?”

Clara began to overwhelm Ayanhar.

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There once was a naive Elf.

How much pain could a young girl endure, losing her parents and siblings at such a tender age? It was unimaginable.

Her mother had cared for her wounds with genuine love, but

Her methods had been flawed. It was understandable.

She was a wounded individual herself, before being a mother. In the name of protection, she had confined the girl to her garden.

Under normal circumstances, it would have been unacceptable. But those were not normal times.

Even the Elves had suffered attacks from the demons. Facing criticism was preferable to losing family.

But the girl craved her mother’s affection more than she realized. She longed for her mother’s approval. Back then, no one else mattered.

Until she joined the Royal Knights.

Her initial impression hadn’t been favorable.

The Royal Knights were a diverse group, and some harbored prejudice against Elves. Yet, she remained.

Everyone knew.

To face a greater enemy,

They had to unite.

They fought and bickered, but they also cooperated, forging bonds of camaraderie. They had become comrades, at the very least. But even that didn’t last.

A reckless expedition.

A hell born of haste.

There, she had lost most of her comrades.

The pain was as agonizing as losing her family. A second experience with such profound loss.

The unfamiliar agony tormented her.

What could she do?

Someone, please tell me!

She hadn’t expected an answer.

But an answer had come.

If you were in hell, wouldn’t you desire salvation? Most would.

A release from the unbearable torment. But there was no salvation.

That’s what made it hell.

That’s how it should have been. But a hand had reached out, offering salvation. It was Hans.

He had taken the initiative to rebuild the Royal Knights, rescuing her comrades, believed dead, and bringing them together.

More importantly, he had mended her fractured relationship with her mother.

Though they had become rivals in love in the process, her current happiness remained unchanged.

And she realized. To protect this happiness, she couldn’t remain passive. The girl had become a woman.

A woman who vowed to hold onto this happiness and never let go.

“Is this all you’ve got?!”

“…”

Clara silently shifted her gaze.

Ayanhar was still moving, despite being covered in wounds. Clara, however, was slowing down, her injuries taking their toll.

‘Close-quarters combat is still a weakness.’

Ayanhar was convinced of his victory. His hardships had not been in vain. He had abandoned even his proud name, dedicating himself to defeating a single man.

And he had defeated the next strongest opponent after that man.

Ayanhar was intoxicated by his victory, blinded to his opponent’s true capabilities.

Clara sighed and said,

“I guess a sword won’t be enough.”

“What are you…”

Ayanhar couldn’t finish his sentence. Something flashed, piercing his throat. Blood spurted, silencing him.

In the Elf’s hand was a bow.

Ayanhar finally understood.

The Elf’s primary weapon wasn’t a sword, but a bow.

The realization was a profound insult.

‘How dare she… How dare she hold back against me?!’

Rage fueled his actions.

He charged straight at Clara.

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“Makes you an easy target.”

That was the decisive moment. Had Ayanhar been more composed, Clara might have struggled. But rage clouded his judgment.

That was his downfall.

Clara loosed two arrows, piercing Ayanhar’s shoulder and thigh. Unable to move, Ayanhar collapsed to his knees.

Clara spoke coldly.

“Good work.”

Now die.

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[Translator Notes]