Surviving the Magic Academy With Just Intelligence Stats-Chapter 125: Battle Frenzy

In the midst of the chaotic battlefield, Sun Hualing wielded her bloodforged weapon with terrifying efficiency. Each swing cleaved through black-cloaked attackers, their spilled blood defying gravity as it spiraled back toward her crimson blade. The macabre spectacle unfolded like a choreographed dance—the weapon cutting, the blood returning, the weapon growing more massive and deadly with each fallen enemy.

Princess Athena dispatched her own share of opponents with practiced precision, her royal swordsmanship leaving a trail of bodies in her wake. Between strikes, her gaze drifted toward Hualing, observing the maid's unique combat method with professional interest. A smile played across her lips as a competitive spark ignited within her.

It seems I'm being outdone, she thought. Time to show what I'm really made of.

With deliberate slowness, Athena sheathed her sword, the metallic rasp of steel against scabbard somehow audible despite the battlefield's chaos. Her expression transformed in an instant as she activated her talent—Battle Frenzy.

A crimson aura erupted around her form, pulsing and flaring like a living flame. Her eyes morphed, pupils elongating into feline slits that gleamed with predatory intent. The transformation continued as tawny animal ears sprouted from her golden hair, whiskers emerged from her cheeks, and a fluffy tail unfurled behind her.

Ambrose watched the princess's metamorphosis with genuine amazement. Despite all he had witnessed in this world, this marked his first encounter with a human wielding a transformation-type skill. The academic portion of his mind immediately began cataloging and analyzing the transformation and the increase in stats even as the battle raged around them.

Athena growled at the approaching enemies, her sharpened canines glinting as she charged into the fray with inhuman speed. She seized one attacker by the throat, then caught another rushing to his comrade's aid. Her maniacal smile widened as she held both struggling men aloft.

"Yes, this is it," she thought, nostrils flaring as she inhaled deeply. "The smell of battle..." she spoke, voice dropped to a husky register. "I love it."

With frightening casualness, she smashed the two attackers together. Their bodies collided with a sickening crunch, instantly ceasing their struggles as life fled their broken forms. Rather than discarding her grisly trophies, Athena leaped into the densest concentration of enemies, still clutching the corpses.

At the center of the black-cloaked attackers, she released a bestial roar that seemed impossible from a human throat. Then she began to spin, using the dead bodies as makeshift flails. Each rotation sent enemies flying in all directions, bones shattering upon impact as the improvised weapons connected with devastating force.

As more attackers charged toward her, undeterred by their comrades' fate, Athena finally discarded her grisly implements. With theatrical deliberation, she raised her leg and brought her foot down with full strength. The ground trembled beneath the impact, cobblestones splitting in a rapidly expanding fissure that radiated outward from her position. She leaped skyward as the earth opened, swallowing the surrounding enemies in its fractured maw.

Athena landed gracefully beside Ambrose, her bestial features contrasting with her fluid movements. The rest of the party stared in awe—they had considered Hualing the dangerous berserker of their group, but the princess demonstrated a level of battle-madness that existed in an entirely different category.

Something unexpected happened as her gaze fell upon Ambrose. Her expression shifted, the battle-lust in her eyes transforming into something different but equally intense. Without warning, she grabbed him and hoisted him onto her shoulder. Ambrose registered surprise—though he could have easily avoided her grasp with his Spatial Displacement skill, curiosity about her intentions stayed his reaction.

With her prize secured, Athena launched herself upward with inhuman strength, landing on a nearby rooftop before bounding across several more buildings until they disappeared from view.

Marcus, still engaged with opponents, observed their departure with confusion as he cut down another attacker. This behavior seemed wholly inconsistent with the princess he knew—the warrior who would earn the title "War Goddess" in his previous life, a woman who lived for battle and glory, how could she run from battle. Perhaps she sought to remove Ambrose from danger? His theory gained credence as he watched the remaining enemies abandon their current targets and pursue the fleeing pair.

A sudden chill crawled up Marcus's spine. He pivoted sharply, prepared for an attack—only to confront Hualing standing utterly still, a crimson aura churning violently around her slender form.

"That bitch!" she snarled, her voice barely human. "How dare she?"

The blood-red energy intensified around her as she swung her weapon in a wide, devastating arc. The remaining enemies fell in a single sweep, their bodies bisected with surgical precision. Marcus himself was forced to duck to avoid decapitation, the bloodforged blade passing close enough to sever a few strands of his hair.

All the blood from the surrounding corpses responded to her silent command, flowing toward her in crimson rivers that defied gravity. The liquid enveloped her completely, reshaping her attire into an elegant dress of deep crimson, like a princess gown fashioned from freshly spilled blood. Her eyes transformed completely, irises and sclera alike becoming the color of newly drawn blood.

Her gaze fixed on the direction where Athena had taken her master, Hualing launched herself upward. Though her leap fell short of Athena's superhuman bound, it carried her impressively high. As gravity reclaimed her, clots of blood materialized beneath her feet, forming solid stepping stones in midair. She pushed off these crimson platforms, gaining height and distance with each bound as she pursued her quarry with single-minded determination.

…

Ambrose surveyed the cityscape from his precarious position over Athena's shoulder as they bounded across rooftops. The elevated vantage point offered him a strategic overview of the capital's chaos. He noticed concentrated fighting near the city entrance, while only scattered skirmishes erupted elsewhere. Most significantly, he observed their original attackers now actively pursuing their path across the skyline, confirming his suspicion that he and the princess were the primary targets of this coordinated assault.

The question of motivation troubled him. What could these attackers possibly hope to gain by targeting the Rothschild heir and the princess? The political implications alone made such an endeavor suicidal. But an even more pressing issue was where the princess was taking him, was she thinking of hiding? Before he could develop this line of reasoning further, their high-speed journey abruptly ended.

They landed in a spacious chamber that defied conventional room design. A large bed occupied one corner, while the majority of the space was devoted to what appeared to be a personal training facility. Various weights and exercise equipment were scattered throughout, seemingly arranged for practical use rather than aesthetic appeal. A framed portrait of the royal family hung prominently on one wall, suggesting this might be Athena's private quarters within the palace complex.

Ambrose's analytical mind immediately began searching for strategic significance. Perhaps this room contained some hidden royal escape passage? A secret exit known only to the royal family for emergencies such as this?

His methodical assessment was violently interrupted as he suddenly found himself airborne.

"Eh?" The surprised sound escaped him involuntarily as he tumbled through the air, landing with a soft bounce on the bed's plush surface. The fine quality of the mattress registered distantly in his mind, but far more pressing was the expression that had overtaken Athena's features.

This was not the calculated look of a protector seeking a defensible position. Her eyes burned with primal hunger, her cheeks flushed with deep crimson. She breathed heavily through parted lips, her tongue partially visible as saliva gathered at the corners of her mouth. She advanced toward him with slow, deliberate steps, like a predator savoring the anticipation of capture.

Ambrose's mind raced through possibilities. Was this an extreme manifestation of his Fragile Beauty skill? No, she had seemed relatively unaffected before. Then a troubling theory formed—in many stories he'd read, transformation-type abilities often carried significant drawbacks. The most common was diminished intelligence or rational control proportional to the physical power gained. Had her Battle Frenzy skill reduced her to base instincts?

Before he could complete this analysis, Athena pounced. Ambrose instinctively activated his Spatial Displacement, intending to teleport outside to safety. Instead, he materialized by the door, still within the chamber.

Confusion flickered across his features. Had he miscalculated the coordinate shift? He attempted another teleport, aiming definitively for the exterior courtyard he had glimpsed through the window. Once again, he found himself merely relocated to another corner of the room.

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After several more attempts yielded identical results, comprehension dawned. Some form of spatial interference was active within these walls—likely a royal security measure designed to prevent assassination attempts via teleportation. This protective enchantment now served as his prison, trapping him with the feral princess.

Athena rushed toward his new position with frightening speed, but Ambrose blinked away once more, reappearing beside the room's heavy door. If teleportation beyond the chamber was impossible, conventional exit remained his only option. Once beyond this spatial dampening field, he could easily teleport to safety. He doubted such protection extended throughout the entire royal complex.

He pushed against the door with growing urgency, but it remained immovable. Activating his Spatial Omniscience, he scanned the barrier and was shocked by what he discovered. This was no ordinary door but a defensive bulwark—a solid meter of reinforced material weighing approximately a ton. What kind of room required such extreme security measures? The realization settled with chilling clarity: he was effectively trapped in a cage with a predator in heat.

As this understanding crystallized, he felt warm breath against his neck. He turned slowly, raising his hands in a placating gesture.

"Umm... can we talk about this?" he offered diplomatically.

The princess's expression remained unchanged, primal hunger evident in every aspect of her bestial features.

A/N - Formatting is broken, I'll edit later