Divine Luck: SSS-Rank Battle Maid Harem

Whether it was as a mercenary, bounty hunter, monster hunter, bodyguard, criminal, outlaw, gladiator, or meatshield, Tar had always fought with his life on the line. He had danced with death since he was young. Now, he was dancing with her for real.

After joining the Underworld, he had gone periods without so much as swinging his sword at another living being. And at times, he had swung it so much that the boundary between himself and the sword blurred.

This was one of those times.

Holding back would be an insult to himself, his lifelong efforts longer than his natural life, and Soara.

The moment Tar reappeared, he was already next to Soara with his sword aimed at her neck, glimmering slightly in the darkness. Most others never saw Tar's second move due to his proficiency with this surprise attack.

Tar knew in his heart that most fights could be settled with the first move if there was even a slight difference in skill. He had honed his skill in attacking first.

But he knew that surprise attacks wouldn't work against someone like Soara. Still, it was unsettling to see her already looking him in the eyes when he reappeared.

If Tar's muscles hadn't moved more on memory, reflex, and instinct, he would have stiffened for a moment. However, his movements were as smooth as butter as his sword sliced through the air, intent to give Soara's neck the same treatment.

All it found, however, was the same air it had already sliced, just in a different place.
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Soara dodged the strike, and Tar had no idea how she did it. But he didn't need to know. She was still there. All he had to do was cut her until she couldn't dodge anymore.

Before his sword had left the space where Soara's neck had been, his other was already on its way up on his other side, where Soara was standing like a statue.

Again, the sword breezed past without touching so much as a hair on Soara's robed body. She was already somewhere else.

Like a whirlwind of blades, Tar spun around and unleashed strike after slash and slash after strike at the elusive deity of Death. Not once did he touch her.

But at the same time, she didn't once touch him.

She wasn't toying with Tar. She didn't take pleasure in needlessly prolonging the suffering of a brave soul facing her with all his might. She was taking this fight seriously.

It was also the first real fight during which she could exercise more than a fraction of a fraction of her real strength. She would not let it end with the humiliating disgrace of being injured, even if only with a scratch.

She would make this a perfect victory and a clear announcement and reinforcement of her position as the untouchable deity of Death. That was why she was making full use of the one aspect of her powers she had managed to restore, at least partially.

Untouchable Death.

What was death?

The end of life. The of natural existence. It is not a thing. It can't be touched. Naturally, Soara, an embodiment of Death, enjoys the same privilege.

If she doesn't want to be, nothing can touch or affect her form.

It is a perfect evasion ability. Only something at a similar level with opposing properties or superior can interfere with her existence in her current state.

However, due to the Aspect's incomplete revival, Soara was hindered by the same untouchability. Just like Tar couldn't touch her, she couldn't touch him.

But she didn't need to touch him to see him, read him, and learn his movements and patterns.

Tar was experienced. Soara might even consider throwing in a compliment and call him good since he faced her without letting his fear of death hinder him. But like anyone who's trained more than a few hours, he was a creature of habit and routine.

As much as he switched up the angle, momentum, speed, and trajectory of his attacks, all the things he did were affected by his training, and every second of training he had gone through showed in every minute action he took. His muscle memory betrayed him.

Against anyone else, it wouldn't have mattered. Someone who could reliably see through and predict the movements of a high-level, dual-wielding swordsman like Tar without studying his habits for more than a handful of seconds didn't reasonably exist. If they did, they would be beyond Tar's level, and he wouldn't still be standing.

Soara was unique in that way. Her original level of strength was so far beyond Tar that he couldn't even imagine it. But she still retained her experience.

All the memories and knowledge she had accumulated over thousands of years as a deity of Death, roaming battlefields, reaping lives, and receiving the challenges of those who sought a higher realm, all of it remained in her head, even if she couldn't fully express all of it. But she could still put it to use.

After a few turns of the chaotic assault by Tar, Soara didn't need to stay untouchable. She had read him like a book. She understood him better than he did.

Soara cast off the Aspect of Untouchable Death and stood in front of Tar again like the statue she had learned to mimic during her time at the Labyrinth of Syst.

Tar hadn't noticed what she did before, but he felt it clearly now.

Soara was here now. She was in front of him. She didn't just appear to be. This was his opportunity.

Tar lunged with ferocity and speed surpassing even what he had during his surprise attack, his blood and muscles runnign hot after his frenzied, relentless assault. The air in his trail didn't even know it had been cut until several strides later when thin white lines appeared in the wake of his weapons.

From behind him to in front of him on the opposite sides.

That was the intended path of Tar's swords.

They completed their paths.

But somewhere during it, Soara had slipped in between his arms.

She stood a hair away from Tar's face.

Tar, for the first time, saw Soara's face under the hood of her robe.

He closed his eyes.

Setting his gaze upon the beautiful countenance of Death before entering Her embrace made his lives as a human and underworlder worth it.

A Dance with Death only had one ending. Tar knew it from the start. He was truly happy to have received a satisfactory one.

There was a peaceful smile on Tar's face.