Royal Guards Of Ethyria -final- -yukari-chan- F... <TESTED × 2026>

The blade remained where it was—embedded in his grip, still glowing. And then it sang . A high, thin note that rose and rose until it passed beyond hearing. The Praetor’s eyes went wide. His armor began to crack—not from impact, but from resonance . Every joint, every seam, every rune carved into the metal vibrated apart.

, shield splintered, leaning on a broken pillar. Sera the Swift , one arrow left, her quiver long since turned into a splint for her arm. Old Marcus , blind in one eye, still reciting the Oath of the Unyielding in a low, rasping whisper. Lian the Quiet , who had not spoken in three years, but whose greatsword sang a dirge with every swing.

She let go of Shirokage .

“Maybe,” she said. Blood ran from her nose freely now. “But you’re slower.” Royal Guards of Ethyria -Final- -Yukari-chan- F...

The golems charged.

Yukari-chan raised one hand. Not to block. To catch .

The siege of the Crystal Spire lasted seventeen hours. The blade remained where it was—embedded in his

By the sixteenth, the outer wards had fallen. The Praetor’s war-golems—each one a three-ton statue of animated black iron—had smashed through the inner bailey. The Royal Guard had given ground, room by bloody room, until only the Spire’s apex remained.

The Princess was crying now. Great, heaving sobs that shook her small frame.

“I built it,” she said quietly. “The world you wanted. No more shadow sects. No more child weapons. Just people, being kind to people.” The Praetor’s eyes went wide

And .

She moved again. Three strikes. The first severed the tendons in his right wrist. The second opened his throat—not deep enough to kill, but deep enough to drown him in his own blood if he didn’t retreat. The third…

“I know,” she said.