From behind, Roan's sword swung toward Syrce's side. Silently, she raised her arm and caught it in her hand. Her fingers bled as she stopped the blade, but she didn't seem to notice.
The Saint smiled faintly.
"Fascinating..." Syrce raised one eyebrow at her friend. "You tried to use my love of the game against me."
Noble looked at Roan to see his reaction to the stoppage of his sword. She had been so careful to pull Syrce's attention, but it had all been for naught.
There were no odds where Noble could have won. Not yet, at least.
But Roan had not reacted to the action. His focus was entirely elsewhere, as if the sky were the most interesting thing in the world.
The other three Masters were similarly distracted, looking almost frozen in time as they studied different points above the forest.
Noble's pulse began to quicken, her senses on high alert.
"What have you done?"
Syrce shrugged. "I am good at distractions, remember? One of my Abilities helps me divert and direct attention. The weaker the being, the easier it is. They are so focused on the clouds that I doubt they will hear a word we say."
"That's cheating," Child of Promise furrowed her brow.
"Think of it more as a delay of game. I need to know why you did what you did." Syrce's grey eye pierced Noble in such a way that she had no choice but to comply.
Child of Promise sighed.
"The best way to defeat strength is to have something stronger to beat it with. In the absence of that, I had to get a little creative. Sure, I lost the battle, but I hoped for mutually assured destruction. That was the most acceptable outcome."
Noble knew that even if she had mastered the Saint's style exactly, it would not make her Syrce. The qualities that made the woman who she was were not something that could be cut out and pasted into another soul.
It would take some time, but Noble would find her own way to develop the unique style into something she could use in her repertoire.
Since copying the Saint was not the final key to victory, Noble decided to take some creative liberties instead.
"Using a bit of imagination to bring about my end? Mirage would be proud." Syrce's smile faded. "But, I am not. You must not sacrifice yourself for the greater good! Mutually assured destruction will lead to your death."
"It was only a game." Noble pointed out.
"This time." Syrce pursed her lips. "But when it isn't a game, and everything is on the line, don't make the sacrifice. Noble as it may be, find another way. Find the stronger power and use it to win. Do you hear me?"
The intensity of the Saint's words pressed upon Noble's consciousness. While it was Syrce speaking the words, she could not help but feel that they came from a deeper source. The command felt etched upon her soul, as if going against it now would violate her innate nature.
Was the warning more than just advice from a figment of the Nightmare?
'No...the Spell wouldn't do that. Would it?'
"Self-sacrifice is not an option, Lady Bel. Promise me."
Noble met the woman's eyes. "I promise."
The Saint's pleasant demeanor returned. "Good. Then I will let your little shenanigan play out as it would have against anyone but me."
Noble frowned. "But!"
Syrce clicked her tongue. "As you pointed out, I cheated. My curiosity got the better of me. So technically, you won after all. Funny how these things happen. Too clever for your own good, dear Bel. Well done. Now, get ready, here we go!"
Syrce pushed the sword against her side and gasped loudly, drawing the attention of the four cloud-gazers.
"They...they won?!" Flint blinked.
After shaking the blood from her hand, the Saint sheathed her sword and helped Noble to stand.
Then Syrce turned around, offering her hand to the straw-haired Master. "Well done, Roan. You played that expertly."
Coming out of what felt like a daze, the handsome Master bowed over his opponent's hand. "Thank you, my lady."
Syrce continued, "I had completely forgotten about you. Your slow, unhurried movements did not trigger my internal alarm. Are you sure you aren't secretly an assassin?"
Roan shook his head. "I have a long list of roles to my name over the years, but that is not among them."
Waving at the three on the side, Syrce bid them forward. "Come and congratulate your champion!"
Helie, Aether, and Flint came forward, their faces displaying varying degrees of confusion and awe.
In their rush to beat Flint, Helie, and Aether had lost sight of the goal. They had chosen what was best for them instead of taking the opportunity to push themselves and grow.
It was a wasted opportunity, but that did not mean that they hadn't learned a great deal. If not for Roan and Noble's master class in teamwork, they might have missed the biggest point of the exercise.
"That was spectacular!" Aether clapped Roan on the shoulder. "I have never seen anything quite like it."
"To fight with such abandon," Helie took Noble's hand and squeezed it. "I hardly recognized you!"
"And I doubt you ever will again. I don't make a habit of losing myself in a fight like that," Roan took a labored breath. "I barely remember the ending there."
"What's important was that you succeeded. Now you can gain your prize. Congratulations to my temporary second-in-command!" Syrce clapped her hands, which were already almost healed from their cuts.
Roan rubbed the back of his neck. "If it is all the same to you, I would prefer Bel to have the prize. She is the reason I was able to succeed."
The man in the blue scarf was already head of the cohort. He didn't want the added responsibilities of controlling an army.
Unfortunately, Noble didn't want them either. "I am a Realm Walker. That is enough responsibility. I think leaving Titus in charge is the best course of action."
"Surely you must want some prize then?" Syrce pressed.
Roan thought for a moment. "Please do not send Titus, Aurelia, or Aether away until our mission here is complete."
Syrce tapped her chin. "Lyra will miss her beloved Lady in waiting, but she has many others. As long as the terms are amenable to my subordinates, I see no issue with the request."
Helie, Flint, and Aether all nodded in agreement. They did not want to leave until the Nightmare was completed.
"It's settled then." The Saint nodded. "Good match, everyone. We should do this again soon!"
Syrce stretched, causing a popping sound to fill the area. She smiled sheepishly.
"Ah, that feels much better. Now that we are done, perhaps you can heal, dear Bel. She must be in agony."
Noble wasn't feeling well physically or in her soul. She was injured, exhausted, and her brush with the ground would require some time to recover. But any help was better than none.
Titus nodded and moved to the other Master's side. She dismissed her outer armor, allowing him to more directly address the cracked bones of her arm.
Placing his hand on her, he looked at her seriously.
"That fighting of yours...."
"Was wild, I know." Noble waved her good arm at him with a light chuckle.
He lowered his voice as much as his flaw would allow. "No, Bel, it was bee-utiful..."