Volume 1, Chapter 20 – The Assault

Ahem. This should do the trick.

With an affected cough into her right hand, Fia examined herself in the mirror from side to side.

She had now successfully overcome the first challenge after becoming the Elf Princess—properly putting on the princess’s attire.

The dress itself wasn’t much of a problem for Fia. Though slipping into the high-quality white thigh-high socks was somewhat embarrassing—the smooth fabric tightening against her skin as it followed the delicate curves of her legs gave her an odd, tingling sensation—it was still bearable. The real struggle, however, was the undergarments.

Of course, the undergarments in question weren’t the adorable triangular panties, which were easy enough to step into. What truly flustered Fia was the bra.

First, during the process of putting it on, the bra inevitably brushed against her chest. The silky texture felt pleasant, yet she couldn’t help but blush furiously.

Second, Fia realized she simply couldn’t fasten the clasps at the back of the bra. It wasn’t that her arms were too short—the design itself was unreasonable. She had to reach behind her back, grip the two silk ribbons, and tie them into a bow. And because the bra lacked shoulder straps, if the bow wasn’t tied securely or the tension wasn’t just right, the bra would slip downward uncontrollably. Not to mention how it would fare during movement—it was practically anti-elf engineering.

In comparison, the breast cloth the Elf Princess had used when Fia first arrived in this world was a stroke of genius. If given the choice, Fia would’ve picked the cloth too. Even if it was a hassle to wrap around the chest, it was still better than a bra that might suddenly drop mid-step.

As for the final outcome? Fia decided to simply discard the bra. This thing was clearly not meant for beginners. Better to toss it and be done with it.

When I get the chance, I’ll design my own bra—one with shoulder straps and back clasps that can be fastened with a simple click.

Holding the edges of her skirt, she gave herself a once-over in the mirror and forced a smile.

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“Yeah, this should work.”

All that was left was for Anastasia to dye her black hair white with magic and style her long locks. Though she wanted to do it herself, braiding her hair was as difficult as putting on the bra—far too advanced for a novice like Fia.

With everything prepared, Fia glanced around the room.

“Alright, time to find Anastasia.”

The Elf Princess looked adorable even with her hair down. She might even earn some compliments from the maids in the hallway. Even if it felt a little shameless, being praised was always nice.

In high spirits, Fia opened the door, already envisioning a bright future ahead of her.

And then—

—BOOM!

A deafening explosion tore through the mansion, shaking its very foundations. Dust rained from the ceiling, vases and teacups wobbled off shelves and shattered on the floor, and the terrified screams of maids echoed from downstairs.

What’s happening?!

Her entire body jolted in alarm. Fia immediately dropped to the floor and crawled to the hallway window, peering down at the source of the explosion. Beyond the billowing dust and debris, all she could see was chaos—servants fleeing in panic.

But no sign of Anastasia or the others.

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Her heart lurched as if she’d missed a step on the stairs.

Before she could even begin searching for Anastasia, more voices rose from the courtyard below.

“Everyone, halt! On the ground, now!”

Accompanying the command was the arrival of silver-armored soldiers flooding through the mansion gates. They swiftly fanned out, securing the courtyard and its exits, their swords leveled menacingly at the fleeing servants. It was clear—anyone who dared take another step would be cut down without hesitation.

The Milcandis Holy Kingdom’s knights?

Fia’s brow furrowed. These knights wore the exact same uniforms as the soldiers she’d encountered when she first arrived in this world.

Tch.

They found our hideout.

She cursed inwardly.

I need to find Anastasia and the others and get out of this city.

But the moment the thought crossed her mind, a faint but unmistakable sense of danger prickled at her side. Instinctively, Fia turned toward the source.

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Her vision caught the glint of something metallic.

Arrows?

Before her brain could fully process it, her body was already moving.

She threw herself away from the window, ducking behind the wall for cover.

Less than a second later—

A tremendous force slammed into her back, accompanied by the deafening crash of collapsing stone. Rubble and dust sprayed over her, sending the lightweight Elf Princess skidding forward.

“Pffh—”

She spat out the grit that had flown into her mouth and whirled around—only for her ruby-red eyes to widen slightly.

Where she had been standing moments ago, particularly at head level, was now a gaping hole large enough to fit a person.

What kind of arrows are these?! These are basically artillery shells!

Do people in this world use crossbows as RPGs or something?!

She screamed internally as she pressed herself against the inner wall and cautiously rose. The once-pristine black dress she’d painstakingly put on was now covered in dust, its hem torn by flying debris. The high-quality white thigh-high socks were now a grimy mess.

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There was no doubt—if she hadn’t dodged in time, her body would’ve been blown apart just like that wall.

Damn it.

Anger simmered in her mind as she scanned for enemies through the hole in the wall. In the distance, inside a residential building, a row of crossbow-wielding soldiers stood by a window, already preparing their next volley.

“If you’re not going to play fair, neither will I.”

The era Fia came from was one of constant war over resources, where killing or being killed was an everyday reality. She didn’t have the luxury of mercy like those from peaceful times. When the enemy brought out RPG-level weaponry, not retaliating with a neutron surge would be an insult to the beating she’d just taken.

Of course, the priority was avoiding collateral damage.

In an instant, she calculated the distance—about 200 yards. At this range, she could easily ignite a firestorm beneath their feet without even focusing. However, considering they were hiding in a civilian building, a direct blast might harm innocent bystanders nearby. So, she opted for a slightly more complex approach.

Her mind mapped out the fireballs’ trajectories and the enemies’ potential escape routes in less than half a second. Then, above her head, thirty fireballs—each the size of a barrel—materialized. As Fia willed the attack, the blazing orbs shot forth in varying arcs, screaming toward the enemies 200 yards away.

If this were a game, her retinas would’ve been flooded with coordinates and targeting reticles. But Fia didn’t need those to ensure every shot landed true.

The fireballs were faster than arrows.

By the time the crossbowmen realized what was happening, the rapidly expanding spheres of flame were already upon them.