Honkai, why do you only throw me into high-level battles?

Earlier that day.

"Greetings, Durandal. You look well…"

"Good morning, Rita. You too… It feels like it's been ages since we've seen each other in person, only through the comms."

Looking at the familiar short-haired girl on the screen, Durandal smiled.

"How long has it been since our last joint mission? Hmm… a month? Two months?" She mused, trying to recall. She wasn't one for keeping track of dates.

"Four months, twenty-five days, and eleven hours. I apologize, but I don't recall the minutes and seconds…" Rita replied. It was unclear if she genuinely didn't remember or simply didn't want to be too precise. Her tone was matter-of-fact, devoid of any hint of showing off. "Time flies… And congratulations on completing the new battlesuit testing. You've worked hard, Durandal." Her voice was elegant and respectful, like a dutiful aide.

"It was just a routine mission," Durandal dismissed, waving her hand dismissively, as if her non-stop, globe-trotting, battle-filled months, giving 90% of the Valkyries a much-needed break, was truly insignificant. Then, her tone turned concerned. "How about you? This needle-in-a-haystack mission must be tiring. If you're overworked, you don't need to contact me every day. Get some rest." She smiled brightly, adding playfully, "I don't want to return to HQ and find my partner too exhausted to work~"

"Thank you for your concern, Durandal. It's my duty as your aide to check in with you daily." Rita smiled, accepting the slightly awkward comfort. "Besides, compared to your constant battles, my simple task of analyzing data is hardly worth mentioning…"

Hardly "simple," Durandal thought. The amount of historical and cultural data Rita had reviewed was enough to make her the world's leading expert on folklore, history, mythology, and even geology. Few could match her breadth and depth of knowledge.

During the battlesuit testing, her navigator, Airy, had shared an amusing anecdote: While visiting a historian at the University of London, Rita had glanced at a paper on the historian's desk, instantly spotting numerous errors. During their meeting, she'd politely pointed them out.

"And then?" Durandal had been curious.

"And then? The professor got angry and asked Rita to leave… The meeting ended there," Airy had replied matter-of-factly.

Durandal had been confused. Why would the professor get angry?

"Isn't that normal?" Airy had seemed surprised by her confusion. "Imagine someone's livelihood, their expertise, being challenged and completely dismantled by a random stranger with some amateur knowledge. Anyone would be upset!"

Durandal had understood, yet remained puzzled. "Wouldn't losing to someone in your field be a great opportunity to identify weaknesses and improve? That's a good thing, something to be happy about, not angry."

"Uh, well…" Airy had been at a loss for words.

Durandal was… unique. Her thought processes were different.

…

Even now, Durandal still didn't understand the professor's reaction, but she understood the difficulty of Rita's task. She felt both admiration and sympathy.

"You've worked hard, Rita," she said sincerely. Sifting through mountains of data for a single, possibly nonexistent clue – Durandal knew she'd go crazy. The Overseer really assigns some strange tasks… she thought, silently criticizing Otto.

"Indeed, Durandal," Rita agreed, thinking of Durandal's relentless battles, her tireless energy. I'd be dead if I had to fight like that… The Overseer really assigns some strange tasks… she echoed Durandal's thoughts.

Both were awed by each other's abilities, exchanging a look of mutual respect.

"You truly are Rita…"

"You truly are Durandal…"

Having completed her daily check-in, Rita prepared to end the call. "The Overseer suddenly reassigned you to Southeast Asia. It must be an important mission, requiring your specific skills. I shouldn't take up any more of your time." She clasped her hands, bowing slightly.

"No need to rush, Rita," Durandal stopped her. "Important mission? Perhaps. But the Overseer hasn't given me any specific instructions. He simply told me to stay in Manila, maintain a low profile, and await his orders." She chuckled wryly. "He didn't even give me a timeframe… I've been here for days doing nothing. It's such a waste of time."

"Oh, is that so? My apologies, please wait a moment." Rita seemed surprised, then abruptly ended the call.

Before Durandal could react, the call reconnected. Rita, smiling, sent a file. "Since the Overseer hasn't assigned anything specific, why not treat it as a vacation, Durandal? I've prepared a sightseeing itinerary based on your current location. It includes points of interest, shops, and some lesser-known historical sites. Of course, I've also included the most comfortable hotels… It's a bit rushed, so I might have missed a few things." Her tone hinted at a slight dissatisfaction with her own work.

"…Thank you, Rita. You've put a lot of thought into this."

"You're welcome. I'll take my leave now. I hope you have a pleasant trip…" Rita bowed again and ended the call.

Durandal stared at the detailed map, a single thought echoing in her mind: What do I do now?

She traced the map with her finger, muttering to herself, "First, find a place to eat… then a place to rest… then a place to train… Hmm, this looks good."

Rita's carefully crafted itinerary was instantly discarded. Having chosen a location, Durandal resumed her disciplined, if monotonous, routine: Wake up, warm-up, train, meditate, read at the library, then repeat in the afternoon.

She'd never felt so… idle.

Every time she contacted Otto for instructions, the reply was always the same: "Patience." If she wasn't used to Otto's eccentricities, she'd suspect she was being pranked.

The Overseer must have some plan that requires me as the finishing blow, she reassured herself, enduring the boredom.

Gradually, she adapted, truly relaxing for the first time in a long time, treating it as a vacation. Of course, she remained ready to spring into action at a moment's notice.

With nothing better to do, she'd occasionally consult Rita's itinerary, picking a random location, visiting without much thought, then returning. Her sightseeing was perfunctory; she didn't even take any pictures.

"Rita would be jealous," she thought, feeling slightly guilty for her aide, still hard at work.

That day, after her usual training, having received no new orders, she blended into the crowd, enjoying her "vacation."

After a meal she deemed far inferior to Rita's cooking, on her way back to her hotel, she noticed something odd – a small, blood-soaked creature, covered in dirt, scurried past, nimbly scaling a wall. It stumbled at the top, falling to the ground.

"What an agile little thing!" Durandal's eyes lit up. The walls were high, a significant obstacle for the small creature, whatever it was. It had only fallen at the last moment, likely from exhaustion.

"Is it injured?"

Durandal felt a pang of sympathy, watching the creature struggle to its feet, its wounds reopening. She admired its resilience.

"If it doesn't have an owner, I could take it home," she mused, approaching the creature. Unfazed by the dirt and blood, she scooped it up.

"Oh? You do have an owner."

She felt a collar around its neck. Disappointed, she abandoned her idea of adopting it.

"Well, you seem hurt and in a hurry. I'll help you out~"

She carried it to a more open area, taking out a bottle of water and gently cleaning the dirt and blood, her movements slightly clumsy.

"What happened to you? These wounds don't look like animal bites or scratches. Is your owner mistreating you? Is that why you're running away? Is your owner chasing you? Nod if you want me to protect you~"

If only you could understand me, she thought. Just nod, and I'll take you home, no matter what!

After using several bottles of water, she finally cleaned the creature, revealing its true form.

"Oh? A cat! Such strange markings. The colors and patterns almost look like Stigmata…"

Of course, she knew cats didn't have Stigmata. She was simply struck by the resemblance.

"What is this human talking about?"

Stan didn't understand, nor did he care. He knew he wasn't safe yet.

He'd been running on instinct, following the guidance of his collar, knowing it was his only hope. He hadn't even registered falling from the wall, focused only on escape.

The cool water had cleared his head, but he was still disoriented. He opened his eyes to find a blonde girl cleaning his fur and wounds, her touch clumsy and painful.

"..."

He didn't struggle. He sensed her kindness.

He knew he was a monster now, and didn't want to hurt her.

"…Easy there, that hurts…!" He nudged her hand with his paw. Fine, I'll forgive you, since you're trying to help, he thought, feeling a strange sense of comfort. The cool water felt good… Being alive is good.

Suddenly, he froze, his muddled mind snapping into focus. He understood his situation.

He was being hunted!

Damn it, gotta run!

He looked at Durandal, memorizing her face, then tensed, ready to spring away.

Before he could unleash his power, Durandal gently restrained him.

"What's wrong? Why so tense? Don't worry, I won't hurt you." She smiled reassuringly. "Whoever's chasing you, human or otherwise, I can protect you. You're safe with me."

Stan stared at her in disbelief. Do you even know who I am? Do you know what's chasing me?

No, you don't!

That monster is terrifying. Staying here will get you killed. I have to go!

He tried to escape again, but Durandal held him firm.

She was about to speak when she felt a gaze upon them, shifting between her and the cat.

Intrigued, she looked up, finding the source – a young woman with unremarkable features and a strange outfit: a parasol in one hand, a hiking hat on her head, yet her clothes weren't suitable for hiking.

Stan followed her gaze, then leaped in terror – She's here!

He didn't know why she'd changed her appearance, but he'd never forget those eyes.

The fact she could even change her appearance only proved she was a monster…

…just like him!

"Why so scared?" Durandal gently scooped Stan back into her arms, then turned to the disguised Yae Sakura, her tone uncertain. "Are you this little guy's owner?"