"…No way. I think just from his killing intent, I'd wet myself!"
"And you think Seth will just make him kneel? He'll probably cripple him mid-fight."
All eyes turned to Black—wondering if he'd accept.
Black raised a brow—lips curling into a playful smirk.
"Interesting."
He slowly stood—under everyone's gaze—strolling toward Seth.
His eyes locked onto the Overlord Spear.
A 6-star weapon—Vort family heirloom—the pinnacle of Dragonblood gear—a top-tier exclusive weapon for Knights!
Paired with the legendary spear technique—Overlord Spear Art!
Seth's father rose to Duke and 7th Seat Round Table Knight using these two.
Hearing his father had acquired an even stronger spear—this one naturally passed to Seth.
Black didn't expect Seth to bet so big for revenge.
Truly lived up to the "Rampant Wolf" title.
So—should he accept?
Black knew his gap with Seth was vast.
Even at Level 10—Seth's combat experience, skills, equipment—all crushed him.
His only advantages? Dual-class status—and this red longsword—Crimson Soul Sword, Alice's 5-star weapon.
Against Seth—battle-hardened, wielding the 6-star Overlord Spear?
Win chance: near zero.
If he won—he'd devastate Seth. Losing the Overlord Spear would cripple his power.
But if he lost—it wasn't just kneeling.
With Seth's nature? He might kill Black mid-fight, then claim "accidental loss of control."
"What should I do?"
Facing such a gap—Black hesitated.
Like when he was a player—his hard-earned build vs. a pay-to-win rich kid in the national finals.
An unbridgeable gap!
Two peaks: one side—absolute skill. The other—absolute wealth.
Black couldn't count how many times he used flash invincibility frames—
Only like that could he survive the enemy's screen-filling ultimates.
They fought three hours straight—maps nearly destroyed.
Final result? Black won.
Barely. Only 10 HP left.
But now—this wasn't a game.
Seth wasn't data. Black wasn't data. They were real people.
Cut by a blade? Blood. Pain.
Beheaded or heart pierced? Death.
One mistake—severe injury or death.
Not just losing HP.
After weighing it all—Black made his choice.
"I accept your challenge."
When Black's voice exploded across the silent deck—the atmosphere ignited.
Eyes varied:
Noble youths—thought Black overestimated himself, seeking death.
Noble girls—admired his courage, affection rising.
Dragoncleaver Guards—respected his boldness, worthy of royal guard.
Most? Just spectators. After all—this was a duel of massive disparity.
If Black won—they loved underdog triumphs.
If Black lost—they loved Seth impaling his heart.
Either way—maximum drama.
"Black!"
Alice's fingernails dug into her palm—wanting to stop him.
But Black didn't respond—just gave her a "don't worry" gesture.
Watching the boy walk to the arena—her red gown fluttering in sea wind—like a flame doused by cold water.
The sharp aura from his earlier three-strike victory hadn't faded—now stepping into a sure-loss gamble.
Sure loss? Really?
Now—Alice felt a strange sensation.
Since lending him the sword—Black wasn't his usual cheeky self.
Instead—calm, like a master swordsman descending from the mountains.
"He's mad… He could've refused."
Elaina unconsciously clenched her skirt—pale gold hair over shoulders—face full of worry.
She only had one friend now. She didn't want to be alone again…
Her silver lily hairpin trembling—Krystin watched Black grip the Crimson Soul Sword—face calm, always having mysterious faith in him.
"May the Creator God protect you."
She drew a cross on her chest—ruby eyes shimmering.
Black raised the Crimson Soul Sword—pointing at the smug Seth.
This was a battle on an uneven scale.
Yet Black chose to face it.
He realized something.
Even if he wanted to let the plot unfold—some things couldn't be avoided.
Like not provoking Seth—but being targeted anyway, relentlessly pursued.
Like ignoring Loyre's odd behavior—causing a chain reaction.
Like Elaina—whom he could've ignored. A plot-irrelevant character.
Her death wouldn't affect Black.
But could he really do that?
Black couldn't. He wasn't a heartless plot machine. Elaina wasn't data—she was alive.
Like when Seth insulted his original body's mother—he couldn't stay silent.
Black decided: In this twisted world—he must seize initiative!
Not just drifting with the current.
Like now.
Seth was petty, vengeful. Even if he refused—Seth's hatred wouldn't vanish.
So why not use this duel to steal the Overlord Spear—cripple his strength?
A 6-star weapon in his hands? Major boost.
Of course—Black's risk wasn't just for that.
From defeating the Hellfire Rhino-Cat—he sensed it:
That wasn't a normal Level 10 swordsman's reflexes.
Normal bodies couldn't keep up with consciousness—but his did.
It was a long-lost feeling—of a top-tier player.
With the system's cheat—could he become a "player" again?
If he could enter that Flow State—his win chance soared.
So—he'd bet everything.
Smart choice!"
Seth roared with laughter—his amber wolf-eyes blazing with bloodthirsty excitement.
He yanked out the Overlord Spear—its tip scraping across the deck, leaving a trail of sparks.
"Let me show you—what true equal-level domination looks like!"
Before the words faded—Seth shot forward like a drawn arrow!
In an instant—right before Black!
Even suppressed to Level 10—the power of a Level 45 Knight was terrifying. The wind from the spear stung Black's cheeks.
The tip rained down like storming rain!
Locked in the Overlord Spear's killing intent—Black realized:
If he clashed head-on—he'd only have one outcome: death.
Without hesitation—he activated Autumn Wind Triple Fold, narrowly dodging.
The spear grazed his throat—plunging into the deck, wood shavings flying into his face.
Missed once—Seth grew even more frenzied, face twisted!
The heavy Overlord Spear felt light as a feather in his hands—another strike instantly launched.
Force capable of lifting mountains—terrifying momentum—as if Xiang Yu reborn.
Black didn't dare lose focus. Autumn Wind Triple Fold's speed boost made his figure graceful as a startled swan, fluid as a dragon. Every move barely evaded attack.
But this was temporary. Autumn Wind Triple Fold consumed massive spirit energy—he couldn't keep it up.
Black was waiting—for the trigger to enter Flow State.
He didn't know what it was.
But deep inside—a line surfaced from a philosophy book he once read:"Fireflies rush toward flames—toward death they live."
"Just dodging? Is a pirate's spine this weak?"
Seth's spear shadows grew denser—like an iron net enveloping Black. Each strike carried the refined ferocity of battlefield experience.
This spear had claimed countless lives.
Occasionally—the Crimson Soul Sword clashed with the Overlord Spear—emitting ear-splitting screeches.
Black's arms went numb—fingers bleeding from cracked palms.
He had to admit—Seth was crazy, but his strength? No bluff.
Due to level limits—the Overlord Spear wasn't even at one-tenth of its full power.
Yet—Black felt he was fighting a mad wolf, even harder to handle than the Level 30 Hellfire Rhino-Cat earlier!
"Is this really a battle between a Level 10 Knight and Pirate? I can't even see their movements!"
"Seth's combat skill isn't something a Level 10 could have! Not even Level 20!"
"This royal guard is doomed—he won't last long."
The intense fight left nobles wide-eyed, shocked.
Some elderly aristocrats sighed—new generations surpassing the old, heroes rising in every era…
"Your Highness—what are Black's chances?"
Karina, untrained in martial arts, couldn't grasp the situation—only sensed Black was at a disadvantage.
"Less than one in ten."
Alice stood at the front row—fingertips gripping the railing.
That Black lasted this long surprised her. Victory? She saw no hope.
Honestly—if she fought Seth at Level 10? Win chance—barely three in ten.
She recognized Seth's spear style—Wort family's legendary technique: Overlord Breakthrough Formation.
Every move hid follow-up strikes—clearly aiming to exhaust Black, then publicly break his limbs.
"Despicable."
She muttered—red eyes burning with fury.
Then—Black slipped. His sleeve tore—revealing a deep wound on his arm.
Blood dripped onto the deck—blooming into a dark crimson flower.
The sudden change made Elaina and Krystin gasp—heartbeats racing.
"Finally can't hold on?!"
Seizing the slip—Seth's spear accelerated—tip aimed straight for Black's heart.
"This spear sends you to join your prostitute mother!"
These words—like poisoned needles—stabbed into Black's ears.
An unimaginable rage surged from his heart—like two souls merging in fury.
Buzz!
Just as the Overlord Spear neared his chest—Black's pupils contracted sharply!
Time seemed to slow down.
Seth's arm muscles tensed—spirit energy rippling on the spear tip.
Gasps, sea winds, even Elaina's muffled sobs—became crystal clear.
[You have entered Flow State.]
The familiar blue panel flashed across his retina.
That feeling returned.
Black felt his soul float mid-air—his body now a character controlled by a gamepad.
Like back at the computer—a player holding a controller.
A wheel of buttons appeared—HP, MP (Spirit Energy), skills, stats—all visualized.
Dragonblood Top Player ID: Never996Online has logged in.
All sensations returned.
Black could precisely calculate Seth's next move's angle.
Predict the Overlord Spear's inertia trajectory.
Even sense the spirit energy flowing within the Crimson Soul Sword.
Through the controller—he controlled his body.
Now!
Black suddenly ducked—dodging the spear tip—then twisted his wrist.
The Crimson Soul Sword slid along the spear shaft—its spine crashing into Seth's joint.
This was the Swordsman skill [Deflect Force]—a basic move he'd practiced 9,999 times in-game.
Now—executed with thunderous force.
Crack!
A sharp sound—Seth's right arm went numb—the Overlord Spear nearly dropped.
He stared at Black in horror—the instant before.
The boy's eyes had changed, as if possessed—calm, like a precision killing machine.
"How is this… possible…"
Before Seth could react—Black teleported behind him—sword slashing horizontally!
This strike avoided all defensive blind spots—[Reverse Wind Slash], the skill he'd learned upon unlocking Swordsman class.
Seth barely turned to block—his clothes torn by sword qi—a fierce wound appearing, blood dripping nonstop.
"What's going on?!"
"Everything's changed!"
"His… his sword is too fast!"
Nobles in the stands gasped in shock.
Alice's breath caught—pupils shrinking sharply.
She couldn't comprehend Black's footwork!
Unbelievably fast!
And though these were just two Novice Swordsman skills—their power seemed leveled up in his hands.
"This youth is interesting! Fascinating!"
Most shocked was Duke Gran.
His old eyes nearly popped out—wrinkles bunching like chrysanthemums.
Others only saw speed—but Gran, with top-tier strength, understood why he was fast.
He realized—Black's speed wasn't from spirit energy—it was pure physical prowess.
Precise knee twists, dodging spear tips by one millimeter, arms moving unnaturally—making Crimson Soul Sword's attacks impossible to predict.
"How can a Level 10 Pirate have such ability?!"
Gran had seen countless young prodigies—but none as bizarre as Black.
On the battlefield—the tide kept turning.
Seth was forced back—his arrogance replaced by growing terror.
"How is this possible?!"
He found his spear techniques completely read—every feint crashing into Black's pre-set traps.
Black's spirit energy? Truly Level 10.
But his reaction speed? Worthy of Level 50!
"Damn it!"
This fight reminded Seth of being surrounded by enemies on the battlefield.
Back then—mountains of corpses, the iron scent of blood filling his nose.
He fought like a beast—until facing an enemy ten levels higher.
That pressure—death's first taste.
Now—Black gave him the same suffocating dread.
Seth thought—he must've gone mad!
Fearing a Level 10 Pirate—someone who wouldn't even wipe his boots!
But the more fear—the madder he became!
Like that battle—logic screamed retreat, but his inner madness made him charge forward!
Burning every drop of spirit energy—achieving level-skipping victory!
His fame in the army soared!
Now—he believed—if he paid any price—he could repeat that miracle!
"Good! Very good! I underestimated you—you're worthy of my full strength!"
"Thousand Dragon Breakthrough!"
Seth roared—spirit energy exploding!
Dragon carvings on the Overlord Spear lit up—tip bursting with dazzling crimson light!
Hearing this move—nobles Level 30+ all gasped.
This was one of the strongest moves in the Wort family's Overlord Spear Art.
"By endlessly draining spirit energy—double all stats!"
"He's been pushed this far by Black?!"
Alice dug her nails into her palm—unfeeling of pain.
She knew Thousand Dragon Breakthrough well.
Seth using it meant he was fully committed.
She understood Black's strength less and less.
"Die!"
Seth stomped forward—spear like a raging dragon emerging from sea—instantly unleashing dozens of spear shadows!
Each carried ferocious spirit energy—tip tearing air with shrill shrieks, as if hundreds of dragons attacked at once!
Black watched calmly—
Like a player observing a BOSS entering Phase Two.
Just like against that pay-to-win rich kid before.
Facing screen-filling ultimate attacks—all Black could do was maximize dodge usage.
First strike!
Spear shadow flashed—aimed at Black's throat!
Player consciousness awakened—he pressed the dodge button.
In reality—Black slightly tilted his head. The spear grazed his hair—only cutting a few strands.
Second strike!
Seth flicked his wrist—spear shifting direction—horizontal sweep at Black's waist!
He pressed dodge.
Black's toes lightly tapped—body retreating like falling leaves. The spear barely brushed his clothes—no contact.
Third! Fourth! Fifth!
Seth's attacks grew faster—shadows almost merging—entire arena engulfed in violent spear wind.
Ground cracked—stones flying—dust rising.
He mashed the dodge button repeatedly.
To the audience—Black's figure weaved through spear shadows like a ghost.
His pupils glowed with cold calculation—like game screens reflecting in a player's eyes.
Every dodge—precise to the millimeter.
If Jiaye were here—she'd be shocked.
Because now—Black was indistinguishable from her using Divine Flash.
"IMPOSSIBLE!!"
Seth roared—spear changing again. Dragon carvings fully activated—gun barrel echoing with dragon roars.
The true power of a 6-star weapon began to show.
"Thousand Dragon Breakthrough — Final Form: Dragon Devour!"
Seth leapt—tip forming a giant crimson dragon head—roaring down to devour Black!
This attack sealed all escape routes.
Yet—
Black's lips curled—figure suddenly blurring.
Whoosh!
His body turned into a residual image—passing straight through the dragon's fangs.
Dodge Invincibility Frame triggered!
Effect: No damage.
Everyone froze—jaws dropped.
The spear missed—Seth stumbled forward from inertia—crashing to the ground.
Never so humiliated.
"Your spear… is too slow."
Black stood before him—voice terrifyingly calm.
As those words fell—the audience erupted.
Seth's expression shattered—staring at Black, mind blurred.
He didn't understand! Didn't understand! Didn't understand!
He miscalculated!
In his perception—Black's pressure was ten, a hundred times stronger than that past enemy!
No matter how fierce, how relentless—all attacks missed.
This expression—resembled his peak-skill opponent.
So Black thought.
"If you force me…"
Seth's pupils turned crimson—thick blood aura surging around him.
He prepared for final sacrifice.
"Then taste the Mid-Tier Knight Divine Edict—Blood Hell Spear!"
Worthy of a Mid-Tier Divine Edict.
Even before activation—the majesty already covered the entire deck.
The air filled with the stench of blood.
Once unleashed—its power would surpass Thousand Dragon Breakthrough.
But at that moment—Seth realized Black didn't show a trace of fear.
Instead—his eyes were full of mockery, contempt.
Black truly wanted to laugh—at Seth's stupidity.
Mid-Tier Divine Edicts were powerful—but came with a long cast time.
In RPGs or MOBAs—the dumbest move was releasing a long-channeling skill without crowd control on the enemy.
It only got interrupted instantly.
Like now.
Black stepped forward—skill wheel appearing in his mind—patterns crystal clear.
All Novice Swordsman skills laid out.
He chose his most familiar combo:
[Reverse Wind Slash] + [Blood Fury] + [Swift Step].
The crimson crescent blade slashed into Seth's chest!
"Pfft!"
Seth spat blood—Divine Edict Blood Hell Spear's channeling shattered instantly.
Eyes wide—incomprehension written all over his face.
Black's sword had precisely severed his spirit energy flow.
No pause—Black continued.
[Blood Fury] activated.
The Crimson Soul Sword flared—blade wrapped in raging crimson energy—second strike slammed into Seth's abdomen.
"Crack!"
The sound of armor shattering—clear as day.
Seth flew back like a broken kite—crashing hard into the ship's railing.
[Swift Step]!
Black pursued like a phantom—as Seth neared the ground—a spinning kick smashed into his chest!
BOOM!
Seth flew out—crashing into spectator seats—knocked unconscious.
Silence.
Absolute silence.
Black stood still—flicking blood off his sword.
Then slowly walked to Seth's Overlord Spear—yanked it up.
The spear trembled in his hand—as if refusing submission.
But soon—the dragon carvings dimmed—as if accepting fate.
Black weighed the Overlord Spear—lips curling into a cold smirk:
"Now… it's mine."
[Overlord Spear: 6-star weapon, peak exclusive weapon for Knights, family heirloom of the Vort Clan. Forged by an Emperor-Tier Alchemist using core-earth crystals. Legend says the first Vort patriarch used this spear to duel a dragon swarm—wounds fueled greater strength, eventually bathing in blood yet growing fiercer, slaying 1000 dragons.]
[Effects: +300% Attack, +50% Crit Rate, +100% Crit Damage]
[Passive: When the wielder is injured and bleeding, the spear absorbs blood, converting it into spirit energy—increasing attack speed.]
…
Countless details about the Overlord Spear appeared before Black through his Omniscient Lens.
Truly a 6-star weapon—stats absurdly high.
Black couldn't help but marvel.
In Dragonblood, this weapon could only be obtained through pay-to-win.
As a zero-spender—he'd only seen it on game forums.
A true rich player's toy.
Now in his hands—but his level was too low. His spirit energy wasn't even enough to feed this weapon.
After storing the spear—just as Black turned to leave—a severe dizziness hit.
World spinning—vision blurring—accompanied by lethal exhaustion.
Like walking three days and nights in a desert.
Entering Flow State did come at a cost!
Black barely held himself upright—realizing this state damaged his body and mind severely.
Overuse? Might kill him.
After a long while—he regained clarity.
Just as he prepared to return to Alice—a cheerful voice rang out.
"Brilliant! Truly brilliant!"
All eyes turned—to an middle-aged man descending from the cabin stairs, clapping.
Black frowned—this man was no ordinary person.
His steps were steady—but beyond that, something even more astonishing.
Though seeming to step on stairs—he was actually treading on empty air.
F**! A Douzong-level expert!*
Seeing this phenomenon—Black was first shocked—then recalled game lore.
This was a Dragon-Rank master.
At their level—spirit energy vast as oceans. Just condensing it underfoot allowed walking on air.
"This is the most perfect counter I've ever seen!"
The middle-aged man spoke with admiration—slowly approaching Black.
Up close—Black saw his appearance and attire.
Tall, dignified—face calm, brows exuding calmness forged by time.
Fine lines at the corners of his eyes added scholarly grace.
A black Zhanlong Uniform made him look exceptional—every movement radiating unhurried authority.
His eyes seemed gentle—yet sharp as blades. A faint smile played on his lips—inspiring respect and trust.
Most distinctive? The black longsword at his waist.
Black Zhanlong Uniform… black longsword…
Could it be?!
Black's eyes sharpened—recalling a character's artwork.
"Allow me to introduce myself—Pascal, Second-in-Command of the Dragoncleaver Guards."
The middle-aged man extended his hand.
So it's him!
Hearing the name—Black understood.
Pascal—second-in-command of the Dragoncleaver Guards. Warrior class. Strength: Dragon-Rank Peak.
He had another famous title: Number One Below Emperor Tier!
A true big shot.
"Hello—I'm Black, currently Royal Guard to the Princess."
Black didn't dare slack—shaking the man's hand.
Pascal was strong, a senior leader—his presence on the Hodir made sense.
But Black hadn't seen him on the ship before.
Pascal silently examined the youth—gave a slight nod.
Good. Not arrogant, not humble—a promising seedling.
"With your performance just now—even if I suppressed my level to 10—I doubt I could beat you."
"Just luck."
Black humbly replied.
But next—Pascal said something unexpected.
He stepped past Black—bowed deeply toward Princess Alice—and requested:
"Princess Alice—I wish to recruit this young man into the Dragoncleaver Guards for elite training. Would you consider letting him go?"
This request shocked not just Black—but all nobles present.
Especially the younger ones.
They glared enviously at Black.
"Pascal personally recruiting him?! This guy's too lucky!"
"Elite training?! Ridiculous!"
"Royal guard, Dragoncleaver Guard—they're fighting over him! How does he get all the benefits?!"
"With his combat display—this treatment is justified."
For many nobles, joining the Dragoncleaver Guards was a supreme honor.
Let alone being personally recruited by its Second-in-Command!
This was glory worthy of being written into family records!
Alice, however, showed little reaction. Given Black's performance—Pascal's request wasn't surprising.
"He is mine."
She said simply—voice calm, yet conveying absolute authority.
"…Understood, Your Highness."
Pascal wore a look of regret—his eyes filled with pity as he glanced at Black.
Like gazing at an uncarved gemstone.
Black wanted to shout:
"Can you respect my opinion?!"
"Pirates have rights too!"
Despite the chaos and surprises—the Azure Triad Contests continued.
As for Seth—he'd already been dragged away by his followers for emergency treatment.
Seeing the once-arrogant Seth now disheveled, drooling, many nobles and servants wanted to laugh but dared not.
The atmosphere was joyful.
Black was so absorbed in watching—he suddenly slapped his thigh hard.
Damn it! I forgot to claim my 500,000 gold!
With that money—he could buy land, become a minor lord, bring his mother and sister to live in comfort.
Then marry a village beauty—or several—and life would be blissful.
Lost in fantasy—Black lost control of his expression—looking slightly perverted.
Seeing him revert to his usual laid-back self, Alice's lips twitched—speechless.
Moments ago—he was a cold, deadly swordsman.
Which version was real?
Alice found herself unusually curious.
Karina, seeing her mistress glance at Black repeatedly—sighed inwardly.
Rare for the princess to show such interest in someone.
After Black and Seth's battle—the Martial Duel ended.
No one dared step forward after such an intense fight.
Thus—Black was declared winner.
Combined with the Literary Duel—he'd won two contests.
A pirate winning two? Even as royal guard—many nobles found it hard to swallow.
More importantly—winning two meant Black earned the right to dance the Oath Dance with Alice.
Thinking this—noble youths glared enviously, wishing they could kill Black with their eyes.
Of course—they didn't believe a single dance could make Alice fall for a guard.
Such "princess loves servant" tales only existed in novels.
In their eyes—Black's glory had ended. The upcoming Dragon Duel? A true noble stage!
"Ladies and gentlemen—the Literary and Martial Duels were thrilling—but tonight's Dragon Duel will not disappoint!"
Duke Gran was exceptionally excited—Black had brought him too much entertainment.
"For the third contest—you'll tame a priceless dragon species: the Imperial Winged Dragon!"
As he spoke—attendants wheeled in an exquisite cage made of mithril, engraved with complex sealing runes—glinting coldly in sunlight.
Inside—a golden Imperial Winged Dragon hatchling stood still. Though cat-sized—it radiated suffocating pressure.
Its scales resembled liquid gold—each flowing with mysterious light. Its translucent horns weren't fully grown—but already exuded royal dignity.
Eyes pure molten gold—vertical pupils like ancient dragon fire burning. Wherever it looked—air froze.
Now—bared fangs, hissing—emitting low growls. This unfamiliar world—human gazes—made it highly alert.
"So it's truly an Imperial Winged Dragon…"
An elderly dragon scholar trembled to his feet—crystal monocle dropping with a "clink."
Other nobles gasped repeatedly—leaning forward, eyes wide with disbelief.
"This dragon—even as a hatchling—is worth enough to buy a city!"
The crowd erupted.
Even Princess Alice stood—eyes blazing at the young dragon.
"Mother actually brought out the Imperial Winged Dragon?"
Usually composed—now even she looked rarely passionate.
Clearly—Alice wanted this dragon.
Seeing everyone increasingly excited—Black yawned, unsurprised.
Dragons were humanity's mortal enemies.
The era of dragon rule was human history's greatest shame.
Two races—life-or-death foes.
But among the 12 dragon species—one was an exception: Winged Dragons.
Smallest of all dragons—and the only friendly to humans.
Why? Traced back several eras.
Back then—Suzy, one of the Twelve Sages, was a kind, peace-loving woman.
Unlike other sages—she believed war couldn't solve problems—only coexistence could end hatred.
So she sought harmony between humans and dragons.
She succeeded—but not completely.
Through endless observation of Winged Dragon behavior—she developed spells to suppress their innate bloodlust.
She became the first human accepted by dragons.
Through her influence—all Winged Dragons—except their king—became neutral beings.
They no longer attacked humans—could even be tamed through spirit energy links.
Becoming companions—if they recognized you.
Winged Dragons were powerful—amazing speed, masters of wind magic. Once tamed—they became powerful allies.
And the Imperial Winged Dragon was the strongest of them!
Taming it granted 30% combat power boost.
So Alice and others' excitement? Understandable.
Unfortunately—taming Winged Dragons—especially Imperial ones—was extremely difficult.
All dragons were inherently proud—Winged Dragons included.
It was said they possessed a special ability: seeing purple aura around people.
The more noble one's status—the thicker the aura.
The thicker the aura—the more favored they were by dragons.
Thus—royals were naturally dragon-tamers, easily earning recognition.
Empress Elizabeth—when young—tamed a pure-blood Imperial Winged Dragon hatchling.
Now—trained to over Level 80—equivalent to a Dragon-Rank human!
The most noble present was Alice.
She had the highest chance of taming the Imperial Winged Dragon.
But none of this mattered to Black anymore.
After defeating Seth—his mission was complete. Time to rest.
With Alice's permission—Black became a proper spectator, eating and watching drama unfold.
Participants in the Dragon Duel? Far more than Literary or Martial Duels.
After all—the Imperial Winged Dragon was too tempting.
The rules were simple: Just attempt a spirit energy link.
No elaborate combat—maybe luck would make the dragon favor you?
Everyone clung to that hope.
Yet reality was cruel.
Two hours later—
All dozens who tried had failed.
As soon as they initiated the link—the Imperial Winged Dragon hissed at them like an angry hamster.
Since rules dictated lower-status nobles first—this was Empress Elizabeth's affirmative policy.
But these nobles were wiped out.
When Counts and Dukes' children tried—the dragon's resistance weakened slightly.
One exception? Fat Lily—Elaina's "sister"—flashing a greasy smile, trying to look friendly.
Unaware—she looked like a child trafficker.
The dragon's resistance was extreme—back arched, nearly turning into a spiked-back dinosaur.
If not for the cage—it'd have torn Lily apart.
Lily screamed like a pig—making Black laugh uncontrollably.
In the end—most Duke and Count heirs still failed.
Then came Elaina.
This little bunny/gourmand gently initiated a magic link with the dragon.
Rarely—the dragon didn't resist. Didn't hiss.
But unsurprisingly—she failed.
The reason? Absurd. The dragon simply ignored her.
Lazily lying in the cage—didn't even glance at Elaina.
The bunny left with a pouty face.
Black smiled. To him—Elaina failed because her presence was too weak—the dragon didn't even bother to hiss.
Next closest to success? Krystin.
As Saintess of the Church of Creation—her status and talent rivaled Alice and her sisters.
The dragon didn't hiss at her.
When she released magic—it accepted.
But at 80% link progress—the dragon abruptly cut it off, shaking its head at Krystin.
Like saying: "You're not good enough."
Krystin was shocked. Used to success—now rejected by a hatchling.
Unwilling to accept—she even asked Black for answers.
Surely the all-knowing Black knew something?
But his answer left her speechless.
"Because you're too gentle… too pure."
Black casually finished his wine.
This wasn't random.
In Dragonblood's pet lore—the Imperial Winged Dragon disliked weak, kind, pure individuals.
It preferred strong, domineering, cunning people.
If Jiaye the fate-blessed protagonist were here—the dragon might turn from hamster to lapdog.
Besides Jiaye—only Alice and Seth had chances.
Seth was already eliminated.
So truly—only Princess Alice remained.
Thus—when Alice stepped forward—Black put down his glass—watching intently.
He wondered—if Jiaye were absent—could Alice succeed?
Alice approached slowly—stood before the cage—eyes locked on the defiant golden dragon.
Her expression? Serious. Stubborn.
She silently vowed: I must tame this dragon.
The dragon's traits made it ideal for Swordsmen.
Taming it could greatly compensate for her sword talent flaws.
Then—she could catch up to First Princess Afra.
No longer be looked down upon by other royals.
More importantly—her mother, Elizabeth, would focus more on her.
So—to Alice—this dragon was crucial.
She bit her lip—extended a pale hand—using the royal method taught by court instructors.
Spirit energy threads formed at her fingertips—offering a link invitation with imperial pride.
"By the name of Alice von August!"
"Submit to me!"
Her voice—cold, authoritative.
"You shall gain royal-level glory!"
The dragon tilted its head—clearly interested.
Golden pupils fixed on the girl—assessing her worth.
The spirit link began.
At first—smooth.
Alice's energy flowed into the dragon's mind—no resistance.
Even partial acceptance—progress surged: 30%, 50%, 70%…
The audience held their breath.
But at 90%—progress slowed sharply.
Finally stuck at 99%.
Not advancing a single percent.
Black watched quietly—deep in thought.
Then—as if remembering—he suddenly said:
"Your Highness has failed."
Karina and Krystin stared—shocked.
"Why?"
Krystin didn't understand. At 99%—why did Black claim failure?
Among all present—Alice had the best chance.
If even she couldn't—then who could?
"Hmph…"
Seeing progress frozen—Alice grew urgent.
She must not fail.
Eyes sharpening—she increased energy flow, ignoring whether the hatchling could handle it.
The sudden surge made the dragon tremble violently—golden pupils contracting!
"ROAR—!"
It shook its head—letting out a dissatisfied growl—the spirit thread snapping instantly!
Alice's face paled!
The dragon was clearly enraged—stepped back, golden wings spreading—bared fangs!
Even launched wind blade attacks!
At such close range—if not for the sturdy cage—Alice would've been in danger.
Everyone was shocked.
They never expected the princess to fail—and provoke the dragon's hatred.
"Filthy beast—daring to disrespect the princess!"
Duke Gran—usually calm—was rarely alarmed.
If Alice got hurt—Empress Elizabeth would blame him.
Alice clenched her teeth—face dark.
She had no idea what went wrong.
She perfectly replicated the court textbook method.
Why did it stall at 99%?
"…Am I… still not good enough?"
"…Am I… still not good enough?"
She whispered—eyes flashing with unwillingness.
Seeing this—Black sighed silently.
He knew exactly why Alice failed.
Simply put—she was too proud… or rather—too rigid.
The royal instructor's spirit-linking method wasn't wrong.
But mechanical application wouldn't work.
There were eight Winged Dragon species—each with different natures, personalities.
Linking methods must adapt accordingly.
Alice's approach was domineering—an upper-class attitude toward inferiors.
Fit her status and personality—yes.
Effective on other Winged Dragons? Yes.
On the Imperial Winged Dragon? Not necessarily.
As king of all Winged Dragons—born with pride—would it willingly become a human's subordinate?
Thus—even if your status is noble—your "purple aura" is thick—it means nothing.
In the original game—there was a simple hidden taming method for such dragons.
A developer's mercy—a gift for zero-spending players.
Of course—countless zero-spenders only discovered it after grinding to madness.
Black saw it on a forum—remembered it clearly.
Strange—but summarized in five words: Respect and Equality.
On stage—after Alice's failure—the nobles fell silent—muttering: "Truly an Emperor-level dragon."
In the entire Dragonheart Empire—only Empress Elizabeth and a few others ever tamed one.
Yet beneath their awe—many secretly rejoiced at Alice's failure.
The Dragon Duel had a rule: If no one tames the dragon—anyone could keep trying until time ends.
This rule was set by Sage Suzy herself—to give everyone a chance to connect with dragons.
Princess failed? Then others get more chances.
A new round began.
Failure remained the norm.
Elaina and Krystin deemed further attempts futile—gave up.
After her failure—Alice didn't speak again—let alone try.
The third round started.
Black—just a spectator—was lazily eating.
But suddenly—he sat upright, remembering something.
Wait. This Imperial Winged Dragon was tamed by Jiaye in the original story—her powerful battle pet.
More crucially—Jiaye used it to defeat the Winged Dragon King, the boss!
Later—in advanced chapters—the dragon even got a special arc:
It became the new Winged Dragon King, leading all Winged Dragons to fully side with humanity.
Officially declaring war on other dragon races—becoming a key force in the final battle against the Demon Dragon.
That arc was a pivotal turning point in the entire game.
Now—Jiaye absent—could he let it fall into someone else's hands? Or be locked away?
Black felt disaster approaching.
Yes—he planned to leave after the prologue—return to his fishing village.
But if plot changes caused the Winged Dragons to not join humanity—missing this critical force—
it might directly alter the final battle's outcome.
If the Demon Dragon won—and Jiaye lost? The ending would be dragon apocalypse.
Even Black in his village? Would be wiped out!
No—I must act.
First—tame the dragon. Later—find a way to transfer it to Jiaye.
The more he thought—the worse it seemed.
If he didn't intervene—the plot would collapse.
So—under everyone's stunned gaze—Black walked slowly to the cage.
This move shocked Alice, Krystin—even Pascal.
An inexplicable thought arose: He's going to tame the Imperial Winged Dragon.
"You're only Level 10. Attempting a spirit link risks backlash if you fail."
Alice had never been so worried about someone.
Literary and Martial Duels were one thing—Dragon Duel was mysterious. Even Dragon-Rank masters couldn't guarantee success.
Below Level 30 attempting a link? Failure meant severe backlash.
Light—crippled. Heavy—spiritual dissolution.
Black didn't reply.
He casually picked up a crystal-clear cherry from the buffet table.
One of the Imperial Winged Dragon's favorite fruits—a favorability-boosting item in-game.
"Hey, little guy."
Ignoring confused stares—he gently offered the fruit at the cage.
The dragon's weary golden eyes brightened slightly.
After hesitation—it cautiously approached—snatched the fruit.
Soft chewing sounds—its scales seemed to regain luster.
When ready—Black took a deep breath—did something that made everyone's hair stand on end.
Click.
He opened the cage door!
"Are you insane?!"
"This is a priceless dragon species! If it escapes—you'll be executed!"
"Call the Dragoncleaver Guards!"
Nobles screamed—seeing the dragon as treasure, not life.
Thankfully—Dragoncleaver Guards didn't obey them.
Pascal stood arms crossed—deeply observing Black.
He'd seen Black's earlier feats—believed this youth never acted without certainty.
Seeing their leader motionless—other guards stayed put—hands on hilts, ready to strike.
Though a hatchling—this dragon was near Level 40.
If it sought revenge—trouble.
After the door opened—
The dragon cautiously crawled out.
Confirming true freedom—it soared into the sky, circling the Hodir—emitting clear, joyful roars.
Sunlight bathed its golden scales—like flowing molten gold.
Just as everyone thought it would flee—
Whoosh!
It dived down—landed steadily on Black's shoulder—nuzzling his cheek affectionately.
Even more shocking—it voluntarily released a pure golden link—golden threads gently wrapping around Black's fingers.
The crowd exploded!
Even Pascal's expression shifted dramatically.
"The Imperial Winged Dragon… actually initiated a link with a human!"
The reality before her was unbelievable—Alice's lips trembled slightly, as if wanting to speak, but only a faint breath escaped.
"Equality and respect… are the only bonds the Imperial Winged Dragon acknowledges."
Black gently stroked the little dragon's wings, slowly releasing his spirit link.
This was the game's hidden taming method.
Simple, easy—something these characters and NPCs could never conceive.
Releasing a priceless dragon? Utterly absurd.
Blue spirit energy and golden light slowly intertwined.
Progress surged—1% to 100% in an instant!
After completion—a blue panel appeared before Black:
[Contracted Pet: Imperial Winged Dragon]
[Species Value: 700]
[Class Level: Lv.39]
[Favorite Foods: Omnivorous—red fruits, fish, ores]
[Skills: Wind Blade, Swallow Return, Lightning Flash…]
Almost identical to the game.
The only difference? After linking—Black felt a mystical connection with the hatchling.
He could sense its emotional fluctuations.
The dragon affectionately nuzzled Black—like a kitten.
"This! This! He actually tamed the Imperial Winged Dragon!"
"Literary, Martial, Dragon Duels—all three won! This guy's no ordinary man!"
"I've never seen anyone win all three! He'll dance the Oath Dance with Princess Alice! Damn, I'm jealous!"
For every noble—the night's excitement was beyond imagination.
In Dragonheart Empire's maritime records—no noble had ever won all three duels—let alone a mere pirate.
Back in the empire—this news would dominate headlines.
Though many disliked Black—he was now rising like the sun. Even Duke heirs wouldn't dare mock him.
For Cyril, son of a Round Table Knight—tonight was truly shocking.
His eyes narrowed—studying the boy playing with the dragon.
His intuition screamed—this person couldn't have been just a pirate.
After returning home—he'd need to investigate his origins.
With this affinity for dragons—maybe he could be used as key material for the Human-Dragon Experiment.
Cyril wasn't like the brainless Seth—he was far more calculating.
Even if thinking cruel, heartless thoughts—his face might show only a gentle smile.
A snake in the shadows was far more terrifying than a wolf.
"Since you won all three contests—the Dragonvein Fruit is naturally yours."
Duke Gran handed Black a wooden box.
This youth seemed harmless, average—non-noble—yet so outstanding?
Gran looked like a kind white-haired grandfather—but internally—plotting.
Could he have been faking? Hiding his strength?
Days ago—the Dragonblood Council mentioned the Dragonfang Blade was stolen by an unknown figure. Unknown if it was an insider or outsider.
Could that unknown figure be him?
As soon as this thought arose—Gran dismissed it.
Black was truly Level 10—Gran, a Dragon-Rank master, saw this clearly.
He could only suppress his doubts.
Black took the box—opened it—revealing a red oval fruit, still warm to the touch.
Definitely the Dragonvein Fruit.
He never expected it would end up in his hands.
Just days ago—before becoming a guard—he only wanted to eat at the ball.
By sheer coincidence—he'd participated in all three contests.
Truly, fate had other plans.
But now—he could only proceed step by step.
As long as the prologue's ending remained unchanged—everything was under control.
Now—he had a troublesome issue to handle.
Dancing the Oath Dance with Alice.
Thinking of this—Black's head ached.
In-game—he'd danced it before. Just reach a certain affection level—then press keys like a rhythm game.
Now—he had to dance himself!
How was he supposed to know? The original body's memories had nothing. A village boy—how could he know noble dances?
With his broadcast gymnastics-level skills—if he danced with Alice—he'd probably step on her feet the whole time.
Him looking bad? Fine. But embarrassing the princess? Not good.
Just as Black planned how to sneak away—Alice stood before him.
Other nobles' gazes turned toward them.
Elaina and Krystin too—but Elaina, the little bunny, looked odd—like she'd eaten a sour radish.
Krystin smiled sweetly—though her smile was slightly ambiguous.
At the ball's center—Black stared at Alice in her dark red gown—breathtakingly beautiful—feeling his throat dry.
Her cold, gleaming red eyes watched him—less authority, more complex emotions he couldn't read.
After the Azure Triad Contests—did Alice's attitude toward him… soften? Become closer?
Did he raise her affection?
This was an otome game—not a galgame.
Black gritted his teeth—lowered his voice—only for Alice:
"Your Highness—I must confess—I don't know how to dance the Oath Dance."
Alice's expression didn't change—as if she'd expected it.
She leaned closer—her cool voice barely audible:
"Rules are rules. You wouldn't want to defy the Empress, would you?"
"And—it's just a formality. Those rumors about mystical blessings? Baseless."
Black agreed.
Just dancing—mystical blessings? Too exaggerated.
If a girl willingly danced the Oath Dance with you—she already liked you. Her accepting your proposal later? Not strange.
Had nothing to do with the dance.
Alice paused—her red eyes flashing a subtle light.
"No matter. Just relax—follow my lead. I've learned the Oath Dance—I'll guide everything."
With that—Black had no excuse left.
He took a deep breath—gently placed his hand on Alice's slender, strong waist.
Through luxurious fabric—he could still feel her supple yet firm lines.
Alice guided his other hand into position—then placed her own on his waist.
Soft, flowing music filled the air—gentle and rhythmic.
Black's body was stiff—but Alice's graceful steps had already begun.
Just as she said—Alice fully controlled the dance.
Her lead was clear, strong—a rhythm that couldn't be resisted.
Black focused all his attention—straining to feel the subtle shifts in force from her hands and body—clumsily following her movements.
Their bodies pressed close—almost breathing the same air.
Black could clearly see every one of Alice's long lashes.
See the fine down on her pale skin—and those red eyes, like smoldering flames.
A cold yet rich fragrance rose from her—making him dizzy.
In that moment of distraction—his foot lagged half a beat.
"Mmm…"
A soft grunt—Black's boot accidentally stepped on Alice's slipper-covered foot.
Ah damn.
Black's lips twitched—he wanted to apologize—but saw no change on Alice's face.
As if it hadn't happened to her at all.
Her steps didn't pause—not even for a second—fluid, elegant—spinning and moving with Black, her dark red skirt burning like flames in the dance floor.
Her control was incredible—she used her rhythm to completely cover up Black's mistake.
Black admired her deeply. Alice's character—aside from weak talent and isolation—was nearly perfect in every other way.
Yet everyone around her only focused on her flaws.
To the watching nobles—their dance was perfect.
The handsome youth in golden uniform—closely embracing the stunning princess.
Moving to the music—intimate, harmonious.
A beautiful couple—a perfect match.
Many noble youths couldn't hide their envy—even Krystin, who came to watch, smiled slightly wider.
Elaina puffed her cheeks—her bunny ears drooping a little.
The dance neared its end—music rising to a climax.
With Alice's soft reminder—Black knew the finale was a high-difficulty move.
She needed to spin three times rapidly, supported by his arm—then he must precisely catch her, letting her arch back in an elegant pose.
For a complete beginner—timing was nearly impossible.
But to preserve the princess's dignity—he had to try.
Alice gently pinched his hand—reminding him to focus.
Then—using his arm for support—she spun like a startled swan.
Her dark red skirt flared fully—pale pink hair drawing dazzling arcs.
One turn—two—three!
At the moment she stopped—Black reached out instantly.
Yet—the move's difficulty exceeded expectations.
His hands—meant to firmly support her shoulders and back—due to miscalculation and panic—landed fatally off-target.
One hand landed near her slender shoulder blade.
The other… firmly, directly covered her plump, soft breast—with no barrier.
Instantly—a wonderful, soft sensation pierced through gloves and fabric—Black's brain buzzed.
Blank. His entire body froze—as if electric current surged from palm to every nerve.
He forgot everything—just feeling that shocking elasticity and warmth.
Alice's body stiffened instantly.
Her eternally icy pale face visibly flushed—spreading from cheeks to ears.
Those always-cold red eyes widened—filled with unbelievable shame and sudden panic.
She never expected—after worrying Seth might do something lewd—
it'd be this man—right under her guard.
Though knowing he wasn't intentional—Alice was deeply embarrassed.
This was her first time touched intimately by a man.
The feeling? Strange.
Luckily—thanks to Alice's post-spin pose and Black's stance—
this Lushan's claw blunder was cleverly hidden by their bodies and arms.
From the audience's view—it looked like Black successfully caught the spinning princess.
The move seemed passionately forceful—but overall—intimate, perfect—fitting the Oath Dance's fiery final pose.
After brief silence—thunderous applause and praise erupted like waves.
In the roaring claps—Black snapped back—like burned, he yanked his hand away.
Heart pounding—near bursting.
Alice instantly stood straight—quickly creating distance.
Her blush hadn't faded—but her expression forced calm, noble composure.
Only deep in her eyes—lingered traces of shame and anger—she glared at Black, whispering: "You…"
But she said no more—turned away, pretending nothing happened.
Facing the crowd—she bowed slightly—accepting cheers—as if the suffocating embarrassment never occurred.
Only Black remained—frozen—palms still tingling with that soft, bone-melting sensation.
Seeing Alice's pretend-composure back and reddened ear tips—he felt awkward.
Honestly—Black sighed in relief. He thought Alice would've drawn her sword and cut him down.
Maybe after these days together—and tonight's Azure Triad Contests—Alice had changed her view of him.
Before—Black would've been GAME OVER.
Anyway—the chaotic Azure Ball finally ended amid applause.
Nobles left with complex feelings.
Regardless—Black's name left a deep impression in their hearts.
When Black returned to his room—it was already midnight.
Exhausted—he collapsed on the bed—wanting to sleep forever.
Originally just here to eat—now he'd completed all three contests.
In a way—he'd stolen Jiaye's spotlight.
Even this hatchling—snoring peacefully.
After covering it with a blanket—Black pondered how to handle the Imperial Winged Dragon.
He needed to find a chance—sever the spirit link—naturally pass it to Jiaye.
Otherwise—with Jiaye's personality—she'd likely suspect his motives.
That can wait until the prologue ends.
For now—keeping the Imperial Winged Dragon nearby does increase Black's survival chances.
As for Seth…
Well—he'd been thoroughly offended. When he woke—he'd definitely come after him.
Especially since his family's Overlord Spear was still with Black.
But no need to worry too much. Counting the days—Royal Fleet would enter the Caribbean Sea in about two days.
The fleet's combat readiness would sharply rise. Even Seth would have to think twice during such a critical moment.
Thinking of the Caribbean Sea—Black's nerves instantly tightened.
"Jörmungandr… I hope everything goes smoothly."
Fighting a god-tier being—hard to predict what might go wrong.
One step at a time.
Before that—he had to eliminate some Dragonblood Council members.
Like Yellow Dragon.
Last time—Black impersonated him, stole the Dragonfang Blade.
Now—the Council must be in chaos, no one able to take responsibility.
Naturally—the blame would fall on Yellow Dragon.
The Council's punishment for traitors? Extremely cruel.
If Black guessed right—Yellow Dragon should now be severely wounded, near death.
Their leader probably left him just enough breath.
And Black's job? Use the Dragonfang Blade to end his life.
With these heavy thoughts—Black fell asleep.
****
Next morning—he wasn't woken by Maid Leader Mary—but by the little dragon.
"Chirp chirp!"
Black felt something sticky on his face—opened his eyes to see the hatchling licking him.
Seeing Black awake—the little thing got super excited, jumping nonstop.
"What're you doing so early?"
Black yawned—dark circles under his eyes—grabbed the dragon's nape, tossed it to the floor.
Pulled the blanket over—went back to sleep.
This piqued the dragon's anger.
Whoosh!
It spread its wings—gently flapped—wind elements in the room instantly agitated!
A gale roared—Black was thrown to the floor.
"Ow ow ow."
"Hey—you little brat, got quite a temper—fighting fire with fire, huh?"
Black rubbed his sore butt—annoyed.
The dragon huffed and puffed—like laughing at Black.
It pointed its claw at its mouth—conveying hunger.
Ah—so it was hungry.
Of course—dragon appetite was huge.
Black understood—stood up—told the little one:
"Alright—let's go eat!"
The dragon seemed to get it—whoosh—flew onto his shoulder—excitedly licked his face.
"Real glutton—just like Elaina, the little bunny."
"I wonder how you'll become the new king of Winged Dragons…"
Muttering—heading to the door. Pushed it open—surprised.
Two strong, fierce-looking Dragoncleaver Guards—longswords at their waists—stood guard.
Seeing him—they even bowed.
What's going on?
Black was confused. He wasn't some big shot—why were guards at his door?
"Good morning, brothers. What's this about?"
"Brother—Princess Alice ordered us to guard your room these days—to prevent anyone from harming you."
One guard said respectfully.
Ah.
Black understood.
The "princess" could only be Alice.
Never expected she'd care so much now.
Knowing he might be targeted by Seth—she sent guards to protect him.
Was this the same villainess?
Black thought—after last night's accident—she'd hate him.
Guess he underestimated her kindness.
"Then—thank you both."
Black returned the bow.
Since the princess did this—he wouldn't refuse.
After all—if Seth really attacked—Level 45 Knight vs. his true power—even in Flow State—he couldn't win.
Leaving the room—Black took the dragon toward the Hodir's cafeteria.
Along the way—everyone who saw him stared, chattered.
Black faintly heard words like "beat up Seth," "won three contests," "danced with the princess."
Not surprising—those present last night must've spread the word.
Now—he was a celebrity across the fleet.
Annoying—but he had to accept it.
At breakfast—something hilarious happened.
Though still a hatchling—the dragon's appetite was terrifying.
Seafood, fruits, grains—anything edible, it devoured.
Half the cafeteria's food—gone.
This enraged Maid Leader Mary.
Seeing the owner was Black—her fury exploded.
Yelling "Like master, like pet!"—how winning three contests didn't change a bad guy.
Master and pet—kicked out of the cafeteria—left outside, blown by sea wind.
"Thanks to you, kid—we won't eat again."
Black poked the dragon's head—complaining.
Luckily—he'd hidden a meat bun. Wouldn't starve.
Just pulled it out—the dragon struck fast—snatched and swallowed the bun.
"Damn it—are you a dragon or a pig?! So greedy?!"
Black was stunned—wanted to return this dragon.
At this rate—food costs alone would be a fortune.
The dragon huffed proudly.
Just as Black planned to teach it a lesson—Karina arrived.
"Mr. Black—Princess Alice requests your presence. She's at the training ground."
Alice wanted him?
"Alright—I'll go."
No idea why—but he had to go.
At the training ground—Alice wore a sharp martial outfit, still practicing basic slashes on dummies.
Morning light streamed through windows—cutting wooden floors into alternating light-dark squares.
Alice stood alone in the center—shedding her usual ornate uniform.
In a simple white martial outfit—silk fabric slightly damp with sweat—clinging to her curves.
Waist taut as a bowstring—every turn making her hem flutter—revealing a sliver of snow-white skin.
Legs cutting sharp arcs in tight pants—ankles delicate when toes tapped ground.
Most eye-catching? Her chest—rising and falling with each sword move.