Evans's sword met the sword of the imaginary warrior, Evans retreated and after coating his sword with the power that emerged from the cracks in his hand he cut the warrior's sword and then managed to decapitate him.
Evans opened his eyes, his right hand hurt, his glove was dyed red.
"I will only use it in extreme cases."
Evans was also able to defeat the imaginary warrior without using the power of his right hand, but it was a closer battle.
Evans calmly surveyed the part of the back garden he had trained in for more than two years; He felt a certain attachment to that part of the garden, he had trained so much that he felt that a part of him was staying in that place.
-Thank you. -Evans murmured and as if the environment responded to him, a breeze blew that caressed his body.
Evans was about to turn thirteen years old, he was 1.62 meters tall, he had become a very handsome young man, more handsome than anyone in that mansion could imagine.
Now Evans walked firmly, he did not look away, he was a nobleman in every sense of the word.
Although a few servants grew accustomed to despising him, there were now few who dared to speak; because their minds were subjected to the stress of being the target of a deranged killer they had not been able to catch.
Duke's study.
Evans entered with a confident attitude, bowed out of etiquette and said in a respectful tone:
-Father, have you called me?
-You seem more confident. Do you believe in your strength? -The duke asked, observing Evans with interest for the first time.
-The weak must know their place; The strong must make their strength respected. -Evans responded.
-That means you considered yourself weak, and now? -The duke continued investigating.
-I am at the threshold that separates the strong from the weak; Everything will depend on where I direct my next step. -Evans responded calmly.
-The hunting tournament will be soon. Do you plan to fulfill the Emperor's demands? -The duke inquired.
-I will give my best in the tournament; The princess and I have written so many letters to each other that it would be rude not to try. -Evans indicated.
The Duke observed Evans for a few seconds and asked him a frequently asked question:
-Do you have any wishes?
-I wish Stan Fersc to become Aria's personal guard. -That was Evans' wish.
-It's your gift; I hope you are satisfied. -Added the Duke.
After leaving the duke's study, Evans sighed and walked towards the garden dome where he usually spent his afternoons.
"I will continue to increase the intensity of my training until the hunting tournament; since I also wish to reach the third circle before entering the academy..."
Approaching the dome, Evans saw the Duchess and her children, Aria seemed nervous, but both Ana and Lizet stayed by her side.
-Aria! -Evans exclaimed.
Aria looked up and was going to run to Evans but the Duchess said:
-My dear Aria, that's not how a young lady should behave. -The duchess told him.
-Oh! perhaps intrigue is part of the etiquette. -Replied Evans, who could barely contain himself.
Evans looked at Ana, and she picked up Aria and brought her to Evans.
Evans assessed Aria's condition to make sure she hadn't been hurt.
-Duchess. Anymore. Never approach my sister again if I'm not around. -Evans warned the duchess.
"Who is protecting you so that you dare to threaten me? Sooner or later you will pay for it, you dirty bastard," the Duchess thought as she watched Evans walk away.
-What did I tell you Aria? -Evans asked him.
Aria looked down, he picked her up in his arms and said:
-I'm not scolding you, you are the most important thing to me; Don't be afraid of anyone, just trust me.
Aria hugged Evans and stayed quiet.
"Damn Duchess; You attacked Evans and destroyed him; now you dare to play with me despite my warnings; you will die horribly."
Not one, but several imaginary warriors; Evans imagined the mercenaries and warriors who died in the last tournament; He faced them.
Evans' body was bleeding, but he did not let go of the sword he held with his left hand. Of the 8 imaginary warriors he created, three had perished before his sword, but he had reached his limit; Evans tightened his grip on his sword, empowered his body with the rest of his mana, and attacked.
Cut! Blood! Stab! Blood!
Kneeling, Evans swung his sword one last time and severed the head of another warrior, but then his head flew into the air.
Evans opened his eyes, he was leaning against the tree.
"I think it is enough for now; but I must not be complacent in the future."
The hunting tournament would take place in two weeks; Evans had prepared as best he could. Now he could only wait.