Predictably, Syr was not going to do anything excessive.

  The Goddess, pretending to be a regur human waitress, only wanted to create a connection with Light so they could have more opportunities to talk in the future.

  She had only asked Light to accompany her while she ran errands, gathering some st-minute ingredients for the Hostess of Fertility. The conversation started with small talk—basic things like, "Do you remember me from the tavern? I remember you."

  Small fttery intended to close the distance.

  While their conversation pyed out and Light pyed her part, albeit half-heartedly, her thoughts were elsewhere. While conversing, she was ciming her rewards from entering the Blue Pharmacy, but unlike her assumption that she would receive an alchemy subcss, she instead obtained a Marksmanship skill. Probably influenced by Miach’s Familia captain, Naaza Erisuis, a Level 3 archer.

  However, the skill was not one exclusive to Danmachi, meaning it would not appear on her status.

  Its effects were also quite broad, aiding Light in anything ranged—from throwing knives to archery and even using a gun. Although the skill would not take her from a novice to an expert, it seemed to increase her talent for such things. This meant that if she practised them, she would see greater gains for the time spent.

  "Are you listening?" Syr asked with an exaggerated pout, invading Light’s personal space as she did.

  "I am," Light answered, readjusting the brown bag in her hand holding all the ingredients, ignoring the fact that Syr was currently empty-handed. Seeing Syr’s face so close to her own, she could not understand why Horn wanted to discard such a cute appearance. Well, yes, she was not in the same league as Freya, but literally no one in this world was. "You were talking about how good the food was at the Hostess of Fertility and how I should come by sometime."

  Syr pulled back, genuinely surprised Light had heard her. "Well? Are you going to?"

  "We will see," Light answered dismissively, causing the Goddess to pout even harder.

  Ignoring her protests that it was not a real answer, Light instead focused on how to approach this situation. Simply pretending not to notice and brushing the Goddess off would not work in the long term. If anything, it might cause the Goddess to grow impatient and act recklessly.

  However, before she could come to an answer to this question, her attention was forced elsewhere. Standing opposite the pair, a man with liquid stains on his shirt, swaying from side to side, approached their direction. As he closed the distance, the distinct smell of ale invaded both girls’ noses, causing them to frown.

  Light could not help but look up at the sun. "It is midday, and he is already this drunk?"

  "Ahhh, m-my beautiful dy Syr, have you come to meet me?" the drunken man slurred, swaying closer and closer with each hard-fought step, somehow convincing himself that Syr had come to this random street just to meet him.

  "You know him?" Light asked, leaning closer to Syr and whispering in the girl’s ear.

  "He is a regur," Syr curtly answered, her voice carrying a fierce coldness—one that should never have appeared on Syr’s face but belonged to Freya. Just as the Goddess had started her pn to get closer to Light, this eyesore had ruined the atmosphere with his utterly repulsive self. Realising her mask had momentarily slipped, she quickly readjusted. "We are not close or anything. I do not want you to misunderstand."

  Light watched the girl change her demeanour, chuckling internally at how she was ying it on a little thick.

  By the time the two had finished their little talk, the drunken man had staggered up to them. Without warning, he reached out, intending to grab Syr’s wrist and presumably drag her off somewhere. Just from the speed of his hand movement, anyone could tell his actions were rough.

  If Syr had been just a normal waitress, this act would no doubt have bruised her fair skin.

  Noticing such an aggressive move, Light's body reacted instinctively. Perhaps Syr’s acting had been too convincing, causing Light’s subconscious to betray all rational thought. As the st person who needed protection was Syr.

  In a single move, Syr could have charmed the man, turning him into a mindless puppet. Her Familia was so protective of her that they were no doubt watching from the shadows, ready to act at any moment. And that was completely disregarding the fact that her coworkers were all Level 4 adventurers who would not hesitate to end the life of anyone foolish enough to harm their princess.

  No one in this city had better security, and yet Light quickly moved to stand in front of the girl, blocking the man’s arm and swatting it away with her forearm. Unfortunately, this meant she had to throw away the brown bag in her hand, spilling the ingredients onto the floor.

  The drunken man did not seem to control his strength in the least, causing Light to grimace upon contact as a jolt of pain shot up her arm. The suddenness and shock were more painful than the action itself. From their short exchange, she realised that he was much stronger than her. If she had to guess, somewhere between mid to high Level 1.

  Compared to her, who was still at the starting line, the two could not be compared.

  "WHO ARE YOU?!" the drunken man roared instinctively. It seemed he had not even noticed Light’s presence until now, but the moment he did, his already reddened cheeks from intoxication darkened further. Much calmer, he then slurred, "D-do you want to party with us too? I am nothing if not a gentleman."

  Unbeknownst to Light, who was sizing the man up with cold indifference, Syr stood behind her, smiling from ear to ear. Although this girl had accompanied her, Syr could tell that Light's heart was not in their exchange. All her answers had been punctual and distant, making it obvious she wanted to be anywhere but here.

  Just before that wretched waste of oxygen was about to y a hand on her, Syr had pnned to subtly use her innate charm and send him on his way. No doubt her lovely children, who were watching from the shadows, would deal with the aftermath.

  However, she never expected the woman she had come to investigate to step in and defend her. A truly delightful twist to the story.

  Syr was all too aware that Light had only just started her journey as an adventurer, and compared to the man before them—the child of Goddess Hebe, who had two years of experience under his belt—she stood no chance. Yet, instead of intervening or de-escating the situation, a part of her wanted to see how this would all py out. The anticipation causing her heart to race uncontrolbly.

  Best of yet, she had a front row seat to the show.

  "I do not believe a self-procimed gentleman would forcibly drag a girl away," Light coldly shot back, her hand reaching for her sword as she spoke.

  "Are you looking for a fight, brat?" Noticing her movements, the man sobered up slightly, his hand also reaching for the mace on his belt. His previously lust turning into anger.

  Light, fully aware of her disadvantage, did not have the luxury of letting him make the first move. If she failed to take control of the situation and he struck first, she would not be able to turn things around. Not only was she outmatched in stats but also in experience. The only advantage she had was his intoxicated state, which dulled his reaction time and instincts.

  Instead of replying, Light drew her sword and pyed her ace in the hole instantly.

  "Tempest-Avenger." Her calm words seemed to echo throughout the street.

  Instead of the usual calming green winds that surrounded her body, using both skills in tandem dyed the winds an eerie bck. Its appearance caused those spectating to take an instinctive step back. Some even began whispering among themselves, a few in the know comparing it to Ais' wind.

  Even Syr was taken back by the sudden appearance, forcing her to raise her hand to stop her children from inferring.

  Although these skills could bring out the best of Light’s current stats, they were also a double-edged sword. In this form, the longest she could maintain them was just under three seconds. If she exceeded that limit, she would not simply suffer mind down—she would die. These skills were pushing her body far past anything it could currently withstand.

  Like a smashed porcein vase glued back together, cracks had already begun forming across Light’s fwless skin. Blood creeping out everywhere it could.

  "W-What is that wind?" the drunken man stammered, retreating a step. Despite his previous confidence, even he felt immense pressure from whatever this was. It did not help that the moment the spells were cast, Light’s gaze had suddenly become detached, devoid of its previous warmth.

  Without an answer, Light like an emotionless doll charged forward, surpassing speeds that no one at her level should possess. Instead of using her sword, which would shatter under the force, she swiped at the drunk’s already unsteady legs, breaking one under the impact. Then, knowing she had no more time, she grabbed the back of his head and kneed him with brutal force, sending his teeth flying.

  It all happened in the span of a couple seconds.

  By the end of it, the drunk was cleanly knocked unconscious, probably unaware of what had even happened. But the one who looked worse off was undoubtedly Light herself.

  While Syr giddily approached, pnning to celebrate her victory, amazed and perhaps a little turned on by her surprising strength, she suddenly froze. Through the white jacket, she noticed blood seeping out. Looking lower, she saw Light’s exposed legs cracking and falling apart, revealing the horrifying damage beneath her skirt.

  "Are you okay?! Come with me, I will take you to—"

  "This is nothing," Light indifferently cut her off, quickly downing an elixir. Despite the excruciating pain wracking her body, her expression remained unmoved.

  The moment even a single drop touched her tongue, her body healed at a speed so rapid that the onlookers could barely process the situation. One second, she looked like she was about to colpse and die; the next, she was perfectly fine.

  To add to the confusion, Light immediately cast her Cleanse spell, removing all traces of blood from her clothes and body in a single go. Now, she did not just look healthy—she looked brand new.

  With her body in peak physical condition, Light stretched, letting out a satisfied moan. Although she had, unfortunately, grown used to suffering such inhumane levels of pain, nothing could beat the sense of weightlessness that came with being free from it.

  "Are you sure you are okay?" Syr asked, taking note of the empty vial in Light’s offhand. She did not know what was in it, but its effects spoke for themselves.

  "Never been better," Light answered while rolling her shoulders with a giant smile.

  Afterwards, she turned to the downed drunk, momentarily ignoring Syr’s questions about what she was doing. Bending down, she checked his pulse with two fingers.

  "Not dead."

  She shrugged before standing back up and gathering all the fallen shopping. Unfortunately, some of it had been dirtied with mud, but most could still be salvaged.

  This fight had reminded Light of two things. First, this city was dangerous. She had been minding her own business and was forced into a fight just like that. And second, she could not control everything in this world despite knowing the plot.

  Light had initially pnned to take the same approach as Bell when dealing with Freya—pretend to be na?ve while quietly strengthening herself. However, this situation proved that was not going to be possible.

  What would have happened if that man had been a level two? Or even a level three?

  In this world, unless you were the protagonist himself, you could not simply act passively. Merely reacting to situations others put you in would be a surefire way to die.

  Returning to Syr with the brown bag in hand, Light asked with an unarming smile, "Did you enjoy the show, Goddess Freya?"