Chapter 107: Moonlit Clash
In the cold night beneath the dim moonlight on the stone bridge two figures, one a woman with short black hair and black eyes and the other a man wrapped in a long black coat with his face hidden behind a dark mask, clashed in a furious battle where sparks of light erupted between them every time their blades met.
They moved across the stone bridge like fleeting silhouettes, clashing again and again as swiftly as shadows, and the sound of steel striking steel echoed so relentlessly that it even made Eska shiver from where she stood. She could not see their movements clearly, only the sudden shifts of their positions and the flurry of strikes that came with each exchange, and she could not even begin to guess who might win. What shook her even more was the realization of just how terrifyingly strong her former friend truly was.
The masked man had cut down a knight before with a single effortless slash, killing him without struggle, and Eska had thought at that time that his strength was absolute. Yet now against Effie he did not appear so unshaken, instead there were moments where it seemed even he was pushed to his limits. Eska did not know the details of combat, yet it did not take a genius to realize that Effie's strength was something that could not be underestimated.
"Fuck…"
Kael cursed under his breath as he barely sidestepped a thrust that came so swiftly he could not raise his sword to deflect it in time. The tip of the rapier brushed dangerously close to his arm and he realized that if he had been a fraction slower he would have lost his hand.
His chest tightened with irritation as he gritted his teeth. Just how strong was the woman in front of him? He could hardly remember the last time he had fought someone so formidable. The Hollow-Tongue had almost killed him once, but that had been because he lacked a weapon then, so in his mind that encounter did not count. This, however, was different, and he could feel that he was in serious trouble.
The next moment the rapier shot forward again, its gleaming tip aimed at his heart. He tried to leap backward, but his body froze when he realized he was already trapped, his back pressing against the low wall of the bridge.
"Curse it…"
He raised his longsword with desperate speed and managed to deflect the thrust, yet the awkward angle and the sheer force behind his movement made his wrists feel as if they had slammed against stone, sending a jarring ache through his arms that nearly cracked his bones.
He endured the pain, and as his eyes lifted to her figure standing only a few steps away, pressing forward with her rapier to break through his guard, he felt his anger boil under the mask.
What was she laughing at? What madness filled this lunatic woman? He had no desire to hear her words, since speaking with her would only drive him further into frustration.
Grinding his teeth, he shoved his longsword forward with sudden force, making Effie step back for the first time. At the same time, he released the hilt with his free hand and raised his palm toward her, tilting it as though he was about to cast a spell.
Her eyes widened the instant she saw his hand, and without hesitation she leapt back to widen the distance between them.
Behind the mask he grinned, satisfied. He had not used any spell at all, but the act alone was enough to unsettle her. Why would he waste such an advantage when deception could serve him better than power? His enemies did not know the nature of his element, and with his peculiar mana core it was even harder for them to sense anything. Still, he knew there was a risk. He had no idea what the woman's element might be, and showing his too soon could hand her the counter she needed. He would not reveal it until she forced him to, or until he had no other choice.
Effie tilted her head and let out a soft laugh that echoed on the cold bridge. "What a nasty little trick you have there, Sweetie. You almost had me with that one. Ah, and here I thought you might at least grant me a proper and respectful fight, but you shattered my wish yet again. How pitiful. How utterly pitiful…"
Kael's gaze fixed on her, his steps slow and deliberate as his long coat swayed behind him like drifting shadows. His voice came low through the mask as he asked, "Who is Sweetie?"
Effie paused as though in thought, then raised a finger to point at him with playful certainty. "You, of course. I have decided that will be your name. Ah, but more precisely, the name for your corpse. Sweetie suits it perfectly, don't you think? Such a beautiful name. Ah, don't bother praising me, I already know I am gifted at naming."
A sharp cough escaped Kael from behind the mask, though his eyes remained locked on her as his thoughts churned. Sweetie? She had actually called him that? He was not imagining it, a woman had indeed said those words to him, though in the same breath she made clear it was only meant for his corpse.
He raised his sword again and advanced toward her. His voice came firm, carrying no hesitation. "You should understand that I am not some noble warrior who will offer you a respectful fight. I am here to kill you, not to entertain you. If it is entertainment you desire, then fight the knights. I am certain many of them would provide you that, but I will not. And stop calling me Sweetie… it is an ugly name. Just hearing it makes my ears ache."
Without waiting another heartbeat he lunged forward, and at that same moment she stepped into him, their blades meeting once more with a clash that rang across the bridge and cut through the stillness of the night.
She leaned close as steel pressed against steel and whispered, "Ah, then it seems your corpse will need to be taught better manners."
Before she could finish her words Kael sprang back, his coat flaring, and in the same motion he dashed forward with sudden speed. This time his movements were sharper, his body twisting as he leapt upward, rolling through the air as his sword came down in a crushing downward arc with all his weight behind it.
The strike was aimed to split her in two, and though she caught it on her rapier at the last instant, the force drove her back and her teeth clenched as she struggled to withstand it.
It was indeed a reckless attack out of him which could now easily get him killed, yet he truly had no other choice at that moment since so many seconds had already passed with him constantly attacking her and he was clearly running out of time.
And with each passing second the chance of Seraphina arriving in his battle was becoming higher and higher which he absolutely could not afford to happen. That was why he had to push through recklessly and kill the bitch standing in front of him no matter what.
As he pressed his longsword harder with all his strength to push her backward, she in return also refused to give up, and even though she was losing slightly in that moment she still held her ground. Which could be a problem since he could not remain suspended in the air for much longer either.
And then she took a step backward which allowed his sword to press down toward her even further and it was now only a few breaths away until the blade could finally cut her down, so he clenched his teeth together and poured in as much strength as he could, hoping that perhaps in the process he might even break her sword if luck allowed it.
"One more push…" he whispered to himself with heavy breath.
But before he could act on that final push, a smirk suddenly curved across her lips and her grip tightened upon her rapier while her eyes gleamed with a cold and unsettling shine. Then, in the very next instant, her wrists moved and so did her sword, and before he could even fully comprehend what had just happened he felt an overwhelming strength pushing back against him. It was so sudden and so forceful that the next thing he knew his body was no longer suspended in the air but instead thrown into the sky, not as though he had leapt into the air on his own but rather as though something monstrous had hurled him away with brutal power.
The world spun around him for a while and then the brutal crash came, his body striking against the ground with crushing force before rolling violently across the rough surface again and again until he finally came to a halt.
He groaned and quickly pushed himself up, first to his knees, his breath ragged and heavy as though the air had been torn right out of his lungs. Worst of all was the pounding pain in his head since in that crash his skull had smacked against the stone and the sharp sting still lingered even now.
His coat hung awkwardly on his body, battered and bent out of place, and though he had managed to defend himself against her terrifying counterattack, his shirt now bore a long and slim cut across the abdomen where crimson blood slowly dripped and spread, staining the pale color of his shirt into something darker and dirtier. Thankfully she had not managed to dig too deep into his flesh, yet in a way that small mercy was the only good thing he could cling to.
"Damn it… just what kind of hellish monster is she? Was she hiding all of her strength all this time… or was it her elemental magic which gave her this kind of strength and agility…? If so, then I'll be damned."
Grinding his teeth behind his mask, he turned his head quickly to search the ground around him, realizing in that moment that his sword was not with him anymore. It must have slipped away while his body was rolling across the ground. And then his eyes found it, lying just a few steps away, gleaming even more darkly under the dim light.
Only then did he also realize something else which unsettled him further. At that moment, he was kneeling right behind Eska, which meant he had been thrown across the bridge and dragged to this position with such overwhelming force that even he could not quite believe it.
"That explains why my whole body hurts like this," he thought bitterly as he tried to rise.
But before he could even push to his feet, the familiar steel fell before him, and his eyes widened when he saw his longsword land just within reach. He snatched it quickly and lifted his gaze only to see Eska standing before him, the one who had retrieved his weapon and returned it to him.
But what struck him more was not the sword itself, it was her eyes. Those eyes which once carried a warmth he remembered now looked utterly empty and hollow, and at the same time brimming with emotions so heavily suppressed that they seemed to tremble underneath. Her expression itself was indifferent and cold, giving nothing away.
He sighed deeply, rose to his feet, and allowed his sword to rest against his leg as he stretched his shoulders with a weary motion, his thoughts muttering within. "Well, I suppose there is no holding back anymore… since she has already revealed her power. And if it turned out to be some kind of trick and my intuition was wrong, then I guess I'll be fucked up in the end."
Soon Effie began to walk slowly toward him, her steps steady, her grin widening, and the very sight of that expression made Kael's anger flare hotter than before. Yet despite that rage, there was still a faint satisfaction inside him that at least she was not speaking and tormenting him with words this time. He knew he would need every ounce of focus now.
He was indeed preparing to use his wind magic, though he was still not fully accustomed to it even after the long night of practice where he had tested so many forms of spells. But tonight he intended to try something different, something he had not dared earlier or maybe never crossed his mind, and perhaps after this battle he would finally understand how useful it could truly be.
"If it... works that is."
He spun the longsword within his fingers before dashing forward with a stunning burst of speed, the wind carrying his body like a streak of shadow. She too mirrored his movement, lunging forth with her rapier gleaming under the pale moonlight as it cut the air toward him.
Their weapons drew closer, yet strangely his sword's speed suddenly slowed down mid-motion, its weight dragging for an instant. It was as though he was struggling to keep up with her speed. And in that precise moment she lunged with sudden ferocity, her rapier slashing straight toward him, and the sharp song of steel rang through the night.
But Kael had already bent low, diving under the path of her strike, and her sword only whistled through nothing but air. And then in one swift motion he thrust his sword upward aiming to pierce her throat.
However, she had already managed to notice it somehow, her cold eyes flashing toward him as she twisted her blade just in time to deflect his attack, causing it to miss her neck by the barest breath. Her lips curved faintly as though amused by managing to predict his attack and deflect it swiftly. But then her eyes widened.
Because she had also missed something else, and that is he held the sword in only one hand, his other hand was free. Soon, the sleeve of his coat flared violently as his fingers clenched into a tight fist. Before she could react, his arm shot forward with explosive speed, striking her abdomen with a crushing thud so fierce that her skirt twisted violently around her legs revealing her thighs as the impact drove the air from her lungs.
A gush of blood burst from her lips as her eyes widened in disbelief, and her body was thrown backward into the air. But before she could even guess what had just happened, her body crashed violently into the nearby ruined house. The old ghostly structure shuddered as her back smashed into its wall, cracks spreading like a spiderweb across the dull stone, and she coughed more blood as her body slid down.
Meanwhile, on the bridge, Kael was shaking his right hand violently, his fingers aching from the strike, his knuckles turning pale white and blood dripping slowly from the skin as though they had struck solid stone instead of flesh. His hand even felt colder, a biting chill spreading from the fist.
"Did I just punch a woman's stomach or an armor forged from wyvern scale, huh? Damn it… it hurts."
Though his body was hurting all over, he still felt rather exhilarated because even he had not expected this kind of result from his punch. When he had thought of this plan in the first place, he only expected it might catch her off guard, or, if he was lucky, she might even lose her balance for a short while, but in truth the effect was far beyond what he had imagined.
He had to struggle quite a bit to execute it properly, since he needed to concentrate enough mana to create wind around his palm continuously, and at the same time he had to suppress it into layers as small as possible until it condensed into an immense level of pressure. However, it was also a double-edged method, because if he kept it that way for too long the pressure could very well crush his own hand. Luckily it did not, and he managed to release that building pressure in a single strike and send it crashing into her stomach.
And of course he had managed to do that because he made a fake surprise attack to slit her neck, which she couldn't afford to lose, and as such focused on deflecting that attack. She ended up in an awkward position where she couldn't move her sword down, and he succeeded with his attack, though his hand suffered a terrible wound. But why did he still feel like he had just hit a stone?
Regardless of what had happened, the battle was far from over, because the punch was not enough to kill her in the end, not that it would have done so. Once he realized this, he wasted no time and dashed forward again with stunning speed in order to finish what he had started.
Effie, on the other hand, slowly regained her senses from the impact, touched her stomach where there must have been crushing pain, and did something. Though what she did was something he could not understand at all; instead, he only saw a few wisps of fog. He wasn't even sure if it was some kind of healing magic.
However, he could clearly see that the place where his punch had landed was torn open, leaving a hole between her skirt and her upper dress, and her eyes, which had always been cold, were now gleaming in a strange light. She let out a faint sigh and forced herself to stand, though she seemed to be struggling greatly and needed the wall behind her for support as she pushed herself upright.
"Damn it... I was a little late."
When she finally regained her posture, she spat heavily and wiped the blood from her mouth before turning her gaze toward him once more with a cruel expression that carried nothing but hostility. He thought himself fortunate that she had lost her weapon. But as soon as this thought passed through his mind, she suddenly raised her hand and out of thin air something appeared, gleaming under the pale moonlight.
It was indeed a rapier, maybe a new one, though he told himself that it did not matter in the end.
When he almost reached her, he suddenly stopped his advance and allowed the tip of his sword to rest against the ground while raising his right hand, which had already begun glowing faintly. He had no time to waste since she had already stood up and could fight somehow.
The air around him grew sharper as if the atmosphere itself had been cut into edges, which made his coat and shirt twirl around his body. A moment later he released the wind at her, not as a simple gale this time, but sharpened into curved blades, which he had just learned to form yesterday. They were invisible to the naked eye, though perhaps she could sense them, and even if she did, she would be forced to defend herself against them and lose her focus on him.
"That's when I'll strike her down," he thought.
With his sword aimed at her and the wind blades slashing invisibly through the air toward her body in order to slow her down, her expression suddenly changed in a way that unsettled him, and instead of alarm, she burst into strange laughter.
"Wait… why is she acting like that? She must have sensed my blades, there's no way she didn't… Ugh, what is this woman planning again…"
The thought rushed across his mind as the blades closed the distance until they were almost about to cut through her skin. But the next moment nothing happened. The blades did not cut her and the sound of impact never came. It was as though the blades had never even reached her in the first place.
His mind raced as he questioned how it could be possible. "Did she counter it somehow even though she did not make any move? Or could it be that she also had some kind of wind magic?"
But then his eyes widened behind his mask and a cold chill ran down his spine, not only because his blades had failed but because they had suddenly become visible.
"That… that's impossible…"
Indeed, no one could see the wind, so how could such a thing even happen? But soon it became a little clearer as the blades, hovering in the air, transformed before his eyes into something glassy and blue, with a hint of white, like sharp transparent shards. And as they did so they fell to the ground without breaking at all, appearing as though they were harder than stone.
"Ice magic," he whispered to himself. "But how could she even freeze the air itself, more precisely the air pressure? Is that even possible?"
Nothing in this world could truly be called impossible, not when so many elements existed among its people in ways both strange and beyond imagination. He knew this truth well enough, but even then he had not been expecting something like this, and suddenly a few things about her made sense.
The way she could bear the cold night air while only wearing a skirt and a thin dress no longer seemed strange, and why he had felt strangely cold after punching her now made sense. He was feeling a little cold as well.
"This is cheating," he thought to himself. "How am I supposed to fight against someone who can even freeze my wind magic? That..."
Before he could finish the thought, the woman standing before him started acting strangely, and he could not tell whether he was imagining things or if the lunatic was actually blushing.
"Did you… did you see it?" she asked while clutching her skirt tightly and glaring at him with cold eyes.
Kael tilted his head slightly in confusion. "What exactly?"
Her gaze grew even more intense, almost angry, as she muttered, "U-under my skirt?"
Kael's expression turned blank behind his mask. What kind of woman asked something like that in the middle of a battle to the death? Was it not her own fault for wearing a skirt in combat? She should be grateful that he did not punch her where he had kicked the monster out of its sanity.
His reply came coldly, "To be honest, I did. But it's your fault for wearing something white in the middle of the night. And who exactly cares about such things in a fight like this? Either way you are going to die, so just forget it and come at me. Let's end this farce."
For a moment she fell silent; soon enough her madness returned to her face, and once again they lunged forward at each other. But this time Kael wasn't nearly as sure about his chances in this battle as he had been before.
How could he, when his own magic had turned out to be useless against hers? And worst of all, he couldn't hear the clash of steel from where Seraphina should have been fighting, which meant she might be coming here sooner than he expected.
"Just my fucking luck..."
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(Chapter Ended)