Auther's vision snapped into focus.
He was back in the training yard, sword in hand, body already mid-motion from the exact moment he had died. Viola was lunging at him with the same murderous fury in her eyes, rapier cutting through the air toward his neck.
No. Not again.
He panicked and barely managed to raise his blade. The impact jarred his arms, but he twisted desperately and kicked out, preventing her from shattering his elbow like last time. Viola reacted instantly — her boot slammed into his stomach, launching him backward across the dirt.
He hit the ground hard, gasping.
"Aww shit… I'm going to die again!"
His mind spun, searching for any way out. Then the whispers slithered into his head, smooth and coaxing.
Friend… take our hand. Grip the hilt. We will not let you leave us again.
He didn't hesitate. He clenched his sword tighter.
Power flooded his body.
His muscles coiled like springs, explosive and alive. The air grew thick, every particle scraping against his throat as he breathed. For the first time, he felt strong. But beneath the power, something was already tearing.
Viola charged.
She swung a wide, decapitating arc. Auther moved on pure instinct — he sprang from the ground, leaping high and landing lightly on the flat of her blade. For one impossible second, he balanced there, looking down at her stunned face.
Only one other person had ever done that to her.
"What?" Auther said, smiling despite the fire spreading through his limbs. "Suddenly in love with me?"
The fuck did I just say? I hate this bitch.
Viola smirked dangerously and whipped her sword in a savage circle. He flipped off it, landing gracefully behind her. She spun instantly, rapier thrusting toward his heart. He dodged — faster than he had any right to be. Move after move, he stayed one step ahead, each motion pulled straight from the countless memories he'd absorbed in the library.
But his body was breaking.
Every fiber of muscle screamed. Each jump, each twist, felt like his flesh was being ripped apart from the inside. The whispers gave him perfect timing, but they couldn't strengthen his fragile, mana-starved frame.
He closed the distance in a burst of speed, thrust his sword to her throat — not hard enough to cut, but enough to stop her. Then, without thinking, he grabbed her chin, pulled her close, and kissed her.
Viola stiffened.
Then she kissed him back — hard, hungry, almost desperate. Her free hand gripped his hair as if she wanted to devour him. For a few scorching seconds, the violence between them turned into something far more dangerous.
Auther was the one who broke it first. The kiss felt wrong. Like kissing a ghost.
He pushed her away.
Viola stumbled back, eyes glassy for a moment. She licked her lips unconsciously, tasting him… then reality hit her. Disgust and rage flooded her face. She spat violently on the ground.
"You dare take advantage of me, you bastard!"
The whispers were already fading. His body betrayed him.
What followed wasn't a fight anymore — it was a beating.
Viola unleashed everything. She chased him down, rapier flashing. Auther could still dodge, but slower now, clumsier. She smashed the hilt of her sword into his face repeatedly. By the time he collapsed, his lips were split, one eye swelling shut, blood pouring from his nose.
Viola stepped on his right hand — the same one he had tried so hard to protect — and crushed it. Bones snapped and ground together. Blood welled up between her boot and the dirt.
He refused to scream. He wouldn't give her the satisfaction.
Her rapier dropped, stopping less than an inch from his groin.
"If you ever try that again," she said, voice cold and trembling with fury, "I will castrate you. Slowly."
She stomped on his left hand too, shattering it. Then, with a final roundhouse kick to his already ruined face, she sent him sprawling onto his back.
As she walked away, a faint blush colored her cheeks. She murmured under her breath, too quiet for him to hear:
"Why does he have to look so much like his father…? Am I still not over him?"
Only when her footsteps completely disappeared did Auther let himself break.
A raw, silent scream tore from his throat as tears mixed with blood on his face. Every inch of his body was on fire. Both hands were destroyed. His face felt like raw meat.
He stared at the sky through one swollen eye, voice hoarse and shaking with pure hatred.
"I'll kill this bitch… I swear it."