‘I made a mistake…..He was indeed the person who had dealt with that Bandit Leader.’
Valeria exhaled deeply, her sword lowering just a fraction as she took a moment to gather her breath. The intensity of the battle had worn at her resolve, but there was no denying it now—this man, Lucavion, was every bit the warrior people claimed him to be. Her violet eyes softened, and she let out a quiet sigh as she glanced at his face.
“I misjudged you,” she admitted, her voice calmer now, no longer filled with the cold edge of earlier. “I apologize for my rudeness, for doubting your strength. I was… in a bad mood, and I took it out on you.”
Lucavion’s expression softened, the predatory gleam in his eyes fading as he relaxed his stance. He gave her a small, almost amused smile. “Don’t worry about it. I don’t mind.”
Valeria’s lips twitched into a faint smile of her own. “That’s good to hear,” she said, the tension in her body easing. But then her grip tightened around her sword once more, and a spark of excitement lit up her eyes. “But even so, I can’t stop now.”
Lucavion raised an eyebrow, his smile widening slightly in response to the shift in her tone.
“How could I?” Valeria continued, her voice carrying a hint of amusement. “After finding an opponent like you… how could I stop before seeing this duel through to the end?”
Lucavion chuckled softly at her words, his posture shifting as he took a step back. The black starlight that had coiled around his estoc began to dissipate, the aura of mana retreating. His eyes met Valeria’s, and with a subtle nod, he seemed to signal something—an unspoken understanding that passed between them.
Valeria immediately understood. She mirrored his actions, pulling back her own mana until the only thing left between them was the weight of their swords and their skill alone.
Lucavion’s smile deepened, and he raised his blade in a casual salute. “Speaking with blades… isn’t that how it’s done?”
Valeria’s smile widened, a gleam of excitement in her eyes. “Yes,” she replied, her voice filled with anticipation. “That’s exactly how it’s done.”
With their mana withdrawn, the duel was no longer about raw power or magical enhancement. Now, it was purely about skill, precision, and the art of the sword.
The clash of steel rang out through the clearing, the sound sharp and resonant as Valeria’s Zweihander met Lucavion’s estoc with perfect precision. Valeria’s strikes were steady, deliberate, and flawless—each movement a testament to years of rigorous training and unyielding discipline.
Her family’s swordsmanship was deeply ingrained in her, a style that emphasized simplicity over flourish, but every strike carried the weight of her expertise.
The Olarion family’s sword style was built on the principle of perfecting the basics. There was no need for complex, intricate maneuvers or fancy techniques.
Valeria’s father had drilled it into her since she was a child: the most powerful swordsmanship came from mastering the fundamentals and executing them flawlessly. And she had done just that.
Valeria’s muscles coiled, her Zweihander held steady as she lunged forward with a wide, sweeping strike aimed at Lucavion’s left flank. The weight of her sword pulled with power, forcing her to rely on her core strength to maintain balance.
‘He’s fast.’
Lucavion’s estoc flashed like a streak of silver, meeting her blade at a sharp angle just before the impact. The lightness of his weapon seemed no match for her Zweihander, but the way he deflected the strike—his blade angled just enough to guide the force away without absorbing it—was flawless.
‘He’s not blocking. He’s guiding my strikes away.’
Valeria’s thoughts raced as she adjusted her stance, her next move flowing instinctively. She twisted her wrists, bringing the blade down again with a high, arcing strike aimed at his shoulder. Her father’s voice echoed in her mind: “Perfect the basics. Don’t overcomplicate it.”
But Lucavion was already in motion.
His feet barely touched the ground as he sidestepped the blow, his estoc moving with him in a sweeping curve that came dangerously close to her exposed side. Valeria pivoted on her heel, pulling back just in time to avoid the thrust. The air seemed to hum with the closeness of the near miss, and her heart pounded against her ribcage.
‘He’s not just deflecting. He’s positioning himself for the kill.’
There was no bloodthirst in his expression, no raw killing intent radiating from him, yet Valeria could see it in the way his blade moved, in the sharp precision of every strike. His movements were controlled, deliberate, like a predator waiting for the right moment to strike.
Each time she attacked, he reacted not to overpower her but to let her expose herself, ready to end the duel with one decisive blow.
‘He’s using my own strength against me…’
She swung again, a diagonal cut from above, aiming for his collarbone. Lucavion’s estoc darted up, the tip meeting her blade at a shallow angle, sliding off effortlessly. He stepped inside her guard, his sword’s tip grazing past her forearm, a ghost of a touch, reminding her how easily he could have drawn blood.
Valeria’s eyes widened, but she didn’t hesitate. She rotated her grip, the Zweihander sweeping low this time, aimed at his legs, trying to trip him. But Lucavion danced away, light on his feet, his estoc sweeping in a graceful arc that redirected her blade upward.
‘How is he reading me so well?’
Each time their swords met, it was as if he saw her intent before she even moved. Her powerful strikes, meant to overwhelm, were effortlessly deflected. There was no room for mistakes, and yet… she felt a thrill coursing through her veins.
‘He’s not using his full strength. He’s playing with me.’
Her grip tightened, sweat beading along her brow as she shifted her stance again, her mind working to find a gap in his defenses. But Lucavion moved like a shadow, his estoc always just out of reach, always angled perfectly to parry or deflect her strikes. His movements had a deadly elegance, like his blade existed for no other purpose than to kill.
‘It’s not bloodlust… It’s something else. He doesn’t just fight—he kills with every strike.’
The thought sent a shiver down her spine, but it also ignited something inside her—a fire, a desire to push herself further. Her strikes came faster now, less measured, more desperate. She aimed at his chest, then his thigh, then his shoulder, trying to break through his impeccable defense.
But Lucavion didn’t falter. His blade danced around hers, the tip of his estoc flashing like lightning as it intercepted her every move. And then, without warning, he struck.
The angle was sharp—he sidestepped her downward strike, his estoc slipping through the gap in her defenses, aimed directly for her throat. Valeria’s breath caught as she twisted her body at the last second, the blade grazing her skin, close enough to feel the cold steel, but not deep enough to draw blood.
‘That would have been the end.’
For a heartbeat, everything stilled. Valeria’s violet eyes locked with his, and for the first time, she saw it clearly—the precise intent behind his every movement. His blade wasn’t just a weapon; it was an extension of his will, designed to kill with efficiency and grace.
‘I’ve fought warriors before, but never someone like him…’
Lucavion’s expression remained calm, though there was something in his eyes now, a flicker of acknowledgment. He wasn’t taking her lightly, but there was a part of him that held back, as if he was testing her limits rather than seeking to end the duel outright.
‘I can’t win like this. I need to change the pace.’
Valeria exhaled, her chest rising and falling as she caught her breath. She reset her stance, her sword held lower now, closer to her body. Her mind raced with new tactics, but there was no time to dwell on them. Lucavion advanced, his estoc gleaming in the light.
He came at her with a thrust, low and fast, aiming for her side. Valeria twisted her body, narrowly avoiding the strike, but before she could recover, his blade came again—a quick slash aimed at her wrist. She brought her Zweihander up in time, but the force of his strike knocked her back a step.
Lucavion pressed forward, his strikes relentless but precise, each one aimed with deadly intent. His estoc flicked out at angles that left her scrambling to keep up. A thrust aimed at her ribs, a cut aimed at her knee—each strike a calculated blow meant to disable or kill.
‘He’s too fast…’
But even as she thought that, something within her ignited. A stubborn resolve took root. She wasn’t going to back down. She wasn’t going to let him overwhelm her.
Valeria’s breath came quicker as she parried another strike, her arms burning with the effort. She swung wide, forcing him to step back, and in that split second, she saw it—the opening.
She didn’t hesitate. Valeria surged forward, her Zweihander coming down in a powerful overhead strike. Lucavion’s estoc rose to meet it, the clash of steel ringing out through the clearing.
For a moment, their blades locked, both of them pushing against each other, testing their strength. Valeria’s eyes narrowed, her grip tightening on the hilt of her sword as she pushed with all her might.
But Lucavion’s expression remained calm, his body unyielding.
And then, with a sudden, graceful movement, he disengaged, his estoc slipping free and arcing around in a swift, deadly strike aimed at her exposed side.
Valeria barely had time to react. She twisted her body, her Zweihander coming up just in time to block the blow, but the force of it sent her stumbling back.
‘He’s… incredible.’
And that stumble back ended the fight, as the long blade of estoc reached her neck.
SCHLINK!
“It is over.”
