When you're in a pinch, the maid’s gotta come through, right?

Degard, newly put in charge of the central unit by the Adventurer’s Guild, was sweating.

The cockatrices’ horde had finally reached the town.

No, if it were just that, Degard—battle-hardened and seasoned—wouldn’t be flustered. The real issue was the adventurers’ coordination.

The section of wall Degard was responsible for was still unfinished—and wide open.

One hundred adventurers needed to hold their ground, or it’d split wide open. Degard had years of experience as a mercenary, had seen siege warfare and defense tactics before.

That’s why he was panicking.

This world’s a little unfair.

The strong can get stronger—no limits.

Even Degard’s warrior’s sigil carved into his left arm proved that. Born talent, paired with effort—no ceiling.

And now, the ones making Degard’s head spin were exactly those chosen adventurers.

They didn’t even notice it—how they were slowly, steadily, pulling ahead.

Sure, the enemy was being wiped out faster, but the adventurers pushing forward? They were just becoming holes in the flesh wall.

Right now, the other adventurers were barely keeping up, but the half-circle defense was already twisting out of shape.

“Hey! You’re out too far! Fall back! No—wait, not you!”

“Damn it!”

Degard and his partner, the tiger-beastman Tigar, were struggling to hold the line, but there was no command structure, no army ranks, no formations—keeping order was a nightmare.

“Cocatrice’s main body hasn’t even arrived yet. This should be a walkover.”

“What now, Degard? Should I cover the flank?”

Tigal, bearing the sigil of a gladiator, was nearly the strongest individual fighter on the field right now.

Degard hesitated. Was it wise to pull this card so early?

Even thinking about sending Tigal into the chaos of that adventurer party made his palms sweat. If the other side broke apart because of it… it was too terrifying to even consider.

Sweat soaked his forehead when, suddenly, a shadow fell over him.

Someone was on the completed section of the city wall.

Looking up, he saw a silhouette—no, a maid.

"A maid?"

"Ah, that's Craft's maid, I reckon."

"Yeah, hired recently. Why’s a maid up on the wall?"

"Who the hell knows."

The out-of-place maid floated up lightly.

"“!?!”"

From a wall twice the height of a two-story building, the green-haired maid launched herself into the air, landing lightly beside the two of them as if gravity didn’t exist. No way to stay calm after that.

“Wha—!?”

“Is Lord Degard commanding the defense?”

“Ah, yeah.”

“Then I’ll report. The completed sections of the wall are solid. No need to worry about destruction by cockatrices. They do have wings and can fly high, but they won’t be crossing over. You can stay here and hold the line with confidence.”

The maid bowed deeply.

Degard’s thoughts froze—then snapped back. The wall was the very thing he’d been worried about. He forced a smile. It looked more like anger than anything else.

“S-So! Thanks for the info!”

“Then we can recall the party scouting inside the walls.”

“Yeah. Let’s do that.”

Just one more adventurer party makes a huge difference in combat strength.

That’s good news, at least.

“If this place gets breached, the master’s workshop’s likely to take damage.”

“Ah… yeah.”

Deagard almost blurts out, wondering if that’s really what worries her, but swallows the words. A maid’s just built that way, he supposes.

“Hey! You there—no pushing ahead! Stick to the line!”

Deagard’s irritation flares at an adventurer who’s too strong for their own good, too disconnected from the team.

“…Looks like they’re struggling.”

“Just a bit. Damn it. Should’ve numbered the parties properly.”

He’d been away from the battlefield too long. Forgot the basics. Regret’s already too deep.

“Then let me relay the unit numbers to everyone.”

No way. No time to explain calmly to a party in the middle of fighting.

I’ve got this. I’ll hold the enemy while you explain.

"...huh?"

"Best from the back, then? I'll take this one. Well then."

"Ah! Wait!"

Before Degard could stop her, the maid charged straight into the chaotic battlefield of the cockatrices.

And grabbed two spare axes from Degard.

Hey hey hey. You stole my axe.

"Degard, since when did your spare axe become a one-handed one?"

Dagard hefted his heavy double axe with both hands.

A normal person couldn’t even carry this much.

She snatched them both, one in each hand, and vanished like the wind.

What the hell is that maid even supposed to be?

I want to know.

Degard and Tigar shared a weary smile.

◆

The adventurers fought hard.

"Ha! Unlimited stamina potions with the Craft mark! I’ll crush you, cockatrice, no matter how many I drink!"

"Don’t push it too far! You’ll need sleep somewhere down the line!"

"Shouldn’t these things calm down at night?"

"Can’t count on that stomp state! We gotta keep a fire burning here!"

"Damn. Going too hard’ll catch up with me fast."

The Craft-marked stamina potion drastically reduced fatigue, letting you move endlessly—unless you were doing something truly wild.

But even then, pushing beyond your limits, forcing through your breaking point… fatigue still crept in.

And no potion could replace sleep.

Bairoroad told us to stay sharp, but facing a cocatris attacking our town? Adrenaline’s boiling. Can’t help it—muscles lock up.

Especially the stronger adventurers. They’re all pushing too hard. Overcompensating. Starting to stand out.

The half-circle formation started wavering. Shifting.

Then a green gale ripped through.

“!?!?”

It was the maid.

Gripping a massive, blood-soaked axe in both hands.

The cocatris charging at the adventurers—its head just flew off, straight into the sky.

The chicken-headed beast, headless, kept running for a second on pure momentum—then crashed hard into the dirt.

The adventurer saw it. The maid’s single swing. The head gone clean.

“W-what…?”

That should keep things calm for a bit. Lord Laktan, this party of ours is a little past the defense line.

“What?”

Laktaan, the adventurer suddenly called by name, finally managed to recognize where he was, though still confused.

Message from Lord Degard. Raidock’s party will be assigned to First Squad. From now on, we’ll communicate by squad number—pay attention to the orders.

"Yeah... yeah."

Then I’ll cover you—first squad, fall back to the designated defense line.

"Wait! Support...?"

There was no need to ask Raktaan.

The maid pushed forward, slicing through the scattered, massive bodies of the cocatrices bit by bit.

And seeing that movement, Raktaan realizes.

The fear of standing out.

Hey! Back up a bit! Keep in step with the rest of us!

"Ah, ah!"

Raktaan’s party member replies. As the maid buys them time, stepping back to their assigned position, the other party beside them lets out a breath of relief.

"...Sorry. You were keeping up with us."

"Nah, it’s fine. We knew you lot had the skill."

Raktaan apologizes to the neighboring party.

The maid slips back in place.

"Lord Azifira. Message from Lord Degard. Your party is assigned to the Second Squad. From now on, we’ll communicate by squad number. Pay attention to the instructions."

"Uh… uh… Maid? Why’d you say my name?"

"Anyone living in this town, I know by name."

"Huh!? Seriously!?"

"What? What’s that supposed to mean?"

"Not something to worry about right now. Wishing you all the best. Now, I’ve got more messages to deliver."

The maid bowed politely, then immediately moved to the side party. Slicing through the cockatrices as she went.

"Hey, that maid."

"What?"

"Not a single drop of blood splattered back."

"Seriously? That's what you're worried about?"

Raktan and Ajifira exchanged glances, letting out dry chuckles.

◆

"...We've stabilized the situation now, I suppose."

The green-haired maid, Ryuko, murmured to herself.

Sent by her master to check the state of the wall, she’d stumbled upon the precarious central unit.

If left unchecked, the cockatrices would overrun them. So, without orders, Ryuko stepped in to hold the line.

"For now, it should be fine."

At least the risk of the cockatrices reaching her master had dropped sharply.

"Then, next."

Lyuco didn’t return straight to her master. She vanished into the alleyway instead.

A maid appeared with a flourish, stepping onto the grim battlefield!

That’s just how maids roll, you know (´ω｀)