"What are you doing, Nad?" Silva's voice rang out, sharp enough to cut through the noise of clashing metal and the drone's high-pitched whirring.
Nad Silva stopped mid-step, her spear lowering slightly as her eyes flicked toward him. "Hmph. Who asked you to use this in front of me?" Her tone dripped with irritation, like his mere presence was a personal offense. She held her spear with an easy grace, a natural extension of her body, but her face was a mask of annoyance. The shattered pieces of Kael's drone on the floor were a testament to her swift, unthinking action.
Kael looked at her for a moment, sizing her up. Nad Silva: world-class spearman, daughter of the president of a major private company. A daughter of influence, the kind of person most people would approach with caution and respect. Yet, standing here in her worn training clothes, she seemed almost ordinary to him. Ordinary... but dangerous. Her reputation wasn't built on nothing; her movements were fluid, her instincts sharp.
Still, the thought crossed his mind, a mischievous whisper from his past life as a gamer. Should I take revenge?
The answer came almost immediately. Yes. A simple confirmation of a simple truth. He had an opening, a weakness to exploit, and a score to settle. This wasn't about anger, but about a calculated exchange. A drone for a lesson.
With a quiet flick of his fingers, a swarm of drones zipped into the air, circling Nad like vultures scenting prey. The air filled with their soft, high-pitched hum. She reacted instantly, her spear a blur of motion, swinging in sharp, practiced arcs. But the drones, no bigger than a fist, were too fast. They darted away with every strike, impossible to hit.
"Get this thing out of my face!" she yelled, her frustration mounting with each failed jab. Her spear-tip shot out, a flash of steel aimed at one of the drones, only for it to twirl away at the last second. Her face twisted in a snarl. "How annoying, huh?!"
Kael smiled faintly, leaning against the wall to watch her struggle. The battle was a one-sided dance of fury and evasion. His hands were in his pockets, his posture relaxed, as if he were watching a movie. "My drones aren't like ordinary ones you can just snatch," he said, his voice calm, almost mocking. "I've been controlling drones for years during my playtime, my practice runs, even while recording videos." It was a subtle boast, a reminder that his skills weren't just limited to his physical body.
"Hey! I said get this stuff out of here!" she demanded, her voice rising in pitch. The more she tried to hit them, the faster and more unpredictably they moved, a constant, buzzing torment.
Ignoring her demand, Kael walked toward her with slow, deliberate steps. He stopped just a few feet away, close enough to feel the heat of her anger. "Hey."
"What?" Nad's glare was sharp enough to stab. Her body was tense, ready to spring, but she was too distracted by the circling drones to make a real move.
"You destroyed my drone," he said evenly, his eyes holding hers, "and you couldn't even say sorry?"
Her eyes narrowed. "Hey, don't talk to me like—"
"Why don't you shut up?" Kael cut her off, his eyes hard and unflinching. The air in the room seemed to freeze.
Her mouth hung open. "Y-You... why... what did you—?" She looked like she might cry, her composure cracking under the weight of his gaze. She was so used to being the one in control, the one everyone deferred to. Kael's blunt disrespect was a foreign sensation, a shock to her system.
He knew Nad well enough from the game's lore. Twisted personality, childish manners, but sharp skill. She was undeniably talented, a force to be reckoned with in a fight. But she had a flaw, a deep-seated one that Kael could exploit. When overpowered, she didn't resist. Instead, some twisted part of her felt... safe. Secure. It was a reflex born from a nature she couldn't control, an instinct to obey those stronger than her, a strange, submissive comfort in the presence of overwhelming dominance.
In a way, it made her dangerous and vulnerable. She was a weapon that could only be wielded by a hand stronger than her own.
She's probably furious right now, Kael thought, reading the mix of rage and confusion on her face. No one's ever disrespected her like this. But if he wanted payback for his drone, he had to use this weakness against her. He couldn't just beat her; he had to break her composure.
He sighed softly, almost pitying her. Almost. The pity was a mask for his true intent.
Without warning, he reached out and tapped her head with the tips of his fingers. "Who asked you to touch my drone with your filthy hands?" His voice dropped, carrying the weight of dominance, a command rather than a question.
"G-Get your hands off me!" Nad snarled, knocking his hand away with a violent jerk of her head.
Kael simply tapped her head again, slower this time, a gentle, but firm reminder of who held the upper hand. The drones, as if on cue, buzzed closer, their lenses glowing like a thousand tiny eyes.
"You—!" Her voice cracked with rage, her cheeks flushing red. "Just die!"
She raised her staff to strike him, a wild, desperate swing born of pure frustration, but Kael moved first. His wooden sword, which had been resting at his side, slid up in a swift motion, pinning her staff to the ground with a dull thud. The wood creaked under the pressure of his single hand.
"What—?!" Nad struggled, her grip tightening as she tried to pull it free. The force she was using was immense, the veins in her neck standing out, but the staff wouldn't budge. "I can't... lift it?!"
"I can't believe you tried to use a spear at close range," Kael said, tilting his head in disapproval. "Terrible judgment." He looked at her not with anger, but with the cool, professional air of a teacher scolding a student.
Her mouth opened, but no words came out. The rage was still there, but now it was mixed with a potent dose of confusion and a flicker of fear. She was outmatched, and her instincts were screaming at her to back down.
Kael crouched slightly, meeting her eyes. "By the way," he said, his voice lowering, "how's Hatom doing?"
Nad froze. Her pupils dilated. The name alone was enough to shake her, and he knew it. Hatom, her father, wasn't just influential; he was untouchable to most of the world. Kael's casual mention of him was like a cold hand on her heart.
"You... what did you just say?" she whispered, the fight draining from her as she stared at him with wide, disbelieving eyes.
"Tell Hatom," Kael murmured, leaning close enough for his breath to brush her ear, "that in the Black Lands—" His next words were a whisper only she could hear, a secret shared in the midst of a very public confrontation.
When he pulled back, her hands trembled around her staff. The anger was gone, replaced by a deep, profound shock. He had hit a nerve she didn't even know she had. He had spoken a language only she and her father understood, and in doing so, he had asserted a dominance far greater than mere physical strength.
"Do you understand?" Kael asked, his voice returning to its casual, even tone.
Her lips pressed together, but she didn't answer. She simply stared at him, her world turned upside down by a single whisper.
"Silva," Kael called over her shoulder, his voice casual again, as if the last few minutes hadn't happened. "I'm leaving first. Sorry about not sparring today."
"Huh? O-Okay," Silva stammered, clearly unsure of what had just happened. He had watched the entire exchange, baffled by the sudden shift in power dynamics, the unspoken words that had broken Nad's will.
Kael walked past Nad without another glance. She stood frozen for a moment, then her legs buckled, and she sank to the ground. The sound of her staff clattering echoed in the silence of the training hall. Her shoulders shook, and for the first time, tears welled in her eyes. It was a humiliation so complete, so profound, that it broke her.
Meanwhile, in the corner of the training hall, hidden in the shadows between two pillars, someone watched silently. Their eyes followed every sence, every move, unreadable yet intent.