Chapter 660: A Wild Cat II

In the middle of that violent attack she received a powerful kick from one of the unicorn’s hind legs and immediately had to hold her own head with both hands because of the sudden sharp pain that exploded through her skull.

Her vision went white. Her ears rang. She staggered backward and nearly fell. But the wounded beast only managed to run a few more meters away before its legs gave out completely and it collapsed to the ground where it died.

Sekhmet then began to tear open the soft belly of the fallen unicorn with her claws and started eating the still-warm flesh that was inside.

Her body was clearly in a state of severe malnutrition after so many years of scarce food—her ribs pressed against her skin, her hips jutted out at sharp angles, her fur had begun to thin in patches—and the way she tore into the meat and swallowed it was fast and almost frantic.

She filled her belly as quickly as she could before something came to take the meal away from her.

"Well... there goes my 608th pet," a calm voice spoke from somewhere in front of her and the sound of it made Sekhmet freeze completely in place while blood continued to drip slowly from the tips of her claws. "Come, why did you do that to my Cornelia?"

When the owner of the voice crouched down low enough to be on the same eye level as Sekhmet, she was finally able to see who the person was.

It was Zanya.

She was dressed from head to toe in a dark outfit—black leather and dark cloth, fitted close to her body—and a long sword remained sheathed across her back.

Her hair was pulled back from her face. Her eyes were calm. Her expression was not angry. It was not even disappointed. It was simply curious.

Sekhmet felt herself pulled in two opposite directions at once—part of her wanted to turn and run away as fast as her legs could carry her, even though she knew she risked being struck hard from behind if her speed was not enough, while the other part of her considered simply submitting to the clearly powerful swordswoman who now stood so close.

Her muscles tensed. Her claws flexed. Her breath came in short, sharp gasps. And she did not move.

However Zanya did not attack. Instead she simply began to pet the beastkin with slow, steady movements, running her hands gently around the sensitive ears and calling her a cute creature the entire time she did so, while Sekhmet found that she could not make a single muscle in her body move under that unexpected touch.

Sekhmet’s eyes widened. Her breath caught in her throat. Something in her chest that had been tight for a hundred years began to loosen.

"Say, why don’t you replace Cornelia?" Zanya asked in the same calm and even voice. "I’m sure she’ll be happy to have you join the Apex Girls. And I can ride you, too."

Sekhmet could only watch the swordswoman in front of her with a mixture of the lingering terror that still held her body tight and a pair of bright green eyes that now held a sudden, fragile spark of hope.

When she finally managed to look past Zanya she saw a small girl standing there who wore a completely expressionless face and a dark dress.

And standing next to that girl was another one who had brown hair.

The brown-haired one was tall. The expressionless one was small and thin and looked like she had never smiled in her life.

[Wait! Isn’t that Hawthorne there with Frigoris?! He really looked like a woman when he was younger and without all the muscles!] Benjamin said out loud as he reached over and tapped on Sys’s shoulder. [Hm? Why is your face red? Are you blushing?]

{It’s your imagination, Master. And I believe we have seen enough.} she answered at once, deflecting the question without hesitation and turning her expression back to a completely emotionless state once more.

Sekhmet, left with no real choice that she could see, followed after the Apex Girls from that day forward and in time became one of them.

The white space began to close around them again.

"...Huh...?"

Returning to the normal world once more, Benjamin found himself lying flat on the hard ground in the middle of a wide and spreading pool of his own blood.

The blood was warm against his cheek. It had soaked through his clothes and into the dirt beneath him, turning the dust to dark mud.

The sharp blade of a katana was stuck deep into the middle of his spine and pinned him in place, the metal cold against his bones, the hilt standing upright like a grave marker.

Turning his head slowly toward the direction where he could clearly sense a strong fluctuation of magic energy, he saw Zanya carrying the injured Sekhmet in her arms and bolting away from the area as fast as her legs would take her.

Zanya’s sandals struck the cobblestones in a steady rhythm. Sekhmet’s arms were wrapped around Zanya’s neck. Her face was pressed against Zanya’s shoulder.

"Are you okay, Sekhmet?" Zanya asked out loud while she continued running without any sign of slowing her pace.

Her voice was steady. Her breathing was controlled. She did not look back.

"I’m fine... I lost myself a bit, but my broken leg will soon heal..." Sekhmet answered in a voice that still carried clear weakness.

Her words came in short bursts, separated by small gasps of pain. Her fingers tightened against Zanya’s shoulder.

And in that same moment the rest of their friends began to appear from farther down the damaged street as they ran forward to catch up with the two of them.

They all took careful note that their current physical conditions were still good enough for them to continue fighting if they had to.

Bruises. Cuts. Broken ribs that had already begun to knit. A broken leg that was already mending. Nothing that would stop them.