The two men stared at her without moving. The tall man's sword lowered slightly, the tip hovering just above the carpet.
"Or what?" he asked, his voice flat and mocking.
"What exactly are you going to do about it, girl?"
The maid's gray eyes remained steady. She didn't blink. She didn't even shift her stance.
She only tilted her head slightly, just enough for a single loose strand of hair to slip from her tightly tied bun.
"Or I'll have to stop you," she replied.
Her voice remained just as soft and even as before. The tall man's jaw tightened instantly.
A flush of anger spread across his face, turning it dark red. Without another word, he exploded forward.
His boots slammed heavily against the carpet as he rushed toward her. At the same time, his sword rose high into the air before crashing down in a brutal overhead strike meant to split her body from collarbone to hip.
The maid moved. One smooth step to the side. Her body flowed out of the path of the blade as effortlessly as water shifting around a stone.
The sword cut through empty air. The force of his own swing dragged the tall man forward past her. His footing slipped for a moment before he managed to catch himself.
A furious snarl escaped his throat. He spun around immediately and lunged again. This time the attack came low. The blade shot straight toward her stomach.
Her left hand moved in a blur. Her fingers snapped shut around his wrist mid-strike. The grip was absolute. Bone locked firmly inside her grasp. Then she twisted—a single sharp motion.
The tall man's entire body followed the movement like a rag doll yanked by invisible strings. His feet left the floor for a brief second before she flung him backward with effortless force.
He flew straight into his partner. The two bodies slammed together chest-first with a heavy thud.
Arms tangled. Cloaks twisted. Both men crashed to the floor in a messy pile. The impact rattled the nearby wall.
On a marble pedestal beside them, a tall porcelain flower pot began to wobble violently. It tilted dangerously toward the edge.
The maid moved again. One quick step. Her hand flashed out. She caught the pot just an inch before it could fall and shatter on the marble floor. Her fingers curled gently around its base before she placed it back down on the pedestal with perfect care. The delicate petals inside barely trembled.
Behind her, the two men slowly pushed themselves off the ground. They untangled their limbs and rose onto their knees, breathing heavily.
Their faces twisted with anger. The shorter man spat a mouthful of blood onto the carpet.
"Is she mocking us?" he rasped.
The tall man wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. His eyes burned with rage.
"Yeah," he growled. "This bitch has some guts."
The maid's gray eyes sharpened, just slightly. She lifted one hand and calmly pointed toward the carpet where dark drops of blood had splattered.
"Carpet…" she said quietly.
The shorter man's face twisted instantly, turning red with anger.
With a snarl, he shoved himself back onto his feet. His wand snapped upward as the violet crystal at its tip flared brightly.
"I'll burn this whole damn place down!" he screamed, his voice cracking with rage.
The maid slowly raised her open palm. Her movement was calm.
"Please don't," she said softly. "My masters will punish me."
The tall man beside the mage wiped the blood from his lip, a crooked smirk forming on his face.
"Stop it," he muttered to his partner. "She's bluffing."
The maid tilted her head slightly.
"No choice then."
She slowly lifted her right leg. Around her ankle, a ring of pale light suddenly appeared. Ancient symbols ignited one by one, forming glowing letters that spun rapidly in a circle of silver fire. The runes moved faster and faster until they blurred together, their shapes dissolving into streaks of light.
Then the light vanished. At the same moment, a heavy pressure spread through the air. Cold and overwhelming.
Both men's eyes widened in shock. Their pupils shrank into tiny pinpoints.
"Is that…" the tall man whispered.
"Pocket Dimension," the maid finished calmly.
Her voice was as soft as falling snow. Then she slammed her foot down. A blinding white flash erupted from the floor. It swallowed the entire antechamber in an instant.
When the light faded, the marble floors, crystal chandeliers, and tall windows had vanished. The world around them had changed. They now stood in the middle of an endless garden of red roses.
Thousands upon thousands of crimson flowers stretched across the ground in every direction. The rose bushes stood knee-high, their petals gently swaying despite the absence of any wind.
Above them was no sky—only an endless black void. The maid sat calmly upon a thick twisting vine that curled upward from the ground like a throne.
One leg rested over the other. In her hand, she held a single crimson rose, bringing it slowly to her nose as she inhaled its fragrance. Her eyes were half-closed, her expression peaceful.
Below her, the two men were trembling. Their knees shook violently. Cold sweat rolled down their faces in thin streams.
The shorter man's voice came out hoarse and broken.
"That skill…"
His grip on the wand tightened.
"Pocket Dimension… Only national-level mages can cast that."
His eyes filled with fear.
"You're just a maid… Who the hell are you?"
The maid lowered the rose. Her gray eyes drifted toward them. They were calm and distant.
"I am Invanne Irtol," she said quietly. "The maid of the Lumonging and Hana family."
The color drained completely from the two men's faces.
"Invanne… Irtol?" the tall man whispered. His voice trembled.
"No way…"
The rose in her hand suddenly twitched. Then—It laughed. A sharp metallic sound echoed through the dark garden.
The rose's stem split open as long thorns erupted outward, stretching and twisting into razor-sharp spikes.
The men screamed. The shorter man shoved his wand forward desperately. The violet crystal blazed with light.
"Burn!" he shouted.
A roaring wave of fire burst forward from the wand, flooding across the rose garden. Flames devoured everything in their path, turning petals black as they spread in violent waves.
Invanne lifted two fingers. She calmly swiped them sideways through the air. A violent gust exploded outward.
It carried no sound. But its force tore through the garden like an invisible blade. Every rose bush shattered at once. The field erupted into a storm of crimson petals and razor thorns.
The spikes shot forward like a rain of arrows. They pierced flesh. Ripped through cloth. Tore into muscle and bone. Blood sprayed across the air in bright red arcs.
The men's screams were cut short as the thorns punched through their chests, their throats, their eyes.
Their bodies jerked violently. Once. Twice. Then they collapsed. Broken and completely shredded. Their remains are scattered across the ruined field of roses.
Silence returned.
Only the faint rustling of falling petals remained as they slowly settled across the dark garden.