Chapter 11 – Reflection of the Past (Continuation)
The duel between the two girls began.
They stood facing each other at the center of the arena, each holding a light, elegant sword.
Neither blade looked imposing in size, yet each carried the spirit of its wielder.
The first clash came—
not violent, but gentle, like a sword greeting another sword.
A soft ring echoed, a whisper of steel.
Slashes followed.
The second… the third… the fourth…
Their blades moved like the wings of a bird—no haste, no hesitation, only smooth, breathtaking flow.
Five minutes passed.
Then ten.
Ten minutes of pure beauty.
This was not a battle of strength, but a display of refined art.
Soft sword dances, yet decisive.
Measured movements, without excess or deficiency.
Each clash produced its own trace:
warmth blooming from Aileen's blade, glowing, gentle sparks,
while cold crept forth from Shuang-Yu's sword—pure, crystalline frost.
Opposites…
yet alike in elegance.
When the duel ended, there was no victor and no defeated.
A beautiful draw—like a painting completed without the need for a signature.
Applause rose.
Not loud, but sincere.
Aileen returned to the stands.
And on her way… she saw him.
Suho sat there, looking at her.
Tears flowed silently down his face,
yet in his eyes was a strange sense of peace—like someone who had found something he thought lost forever.
He had never taken his eyes off her during the duel.
He forgot the beauty of the match,
forgot the cheers and applause,
and saw only her face.
How heavy the honor of memory is,
that it drowns the dreamer in longing…
Aileen lifted her eyes to him.
Their gazes met.
Suho panicked and quickly turned his face away, like a child caught staring at something forbidden.
She wondered silently:
What did I do?
And what's wrong with him?
Lucas's voice rang out across the arena:
— Reinhardt Hildras!
— Kim Suho!
Suho steadied himself.
He wiped his face, betrayed by his own expression, and stepped down into the arena.
He greeted the instructor, then Reinhardt, who returned the greeting with a friendly smile.
Reinhardt spoke calmly:
— How would you like us to fight, colleague?
Suho replied with a faint, amicable smile:
— As you wish… sword or fists. I'll try to keep up.
Reinhardt laughed.
— Very well then. Each of us to his craft.
Lucas raised his hand.
— Begin.
Reinhardt reinforced his body and fists with surging power.
In contrast, Suho drew his sword, took a firm stance, and reinforced his body with mana.
Both of them…
understood each other.
They hid nothing.
Each had faced powerful opponents before and knew that holding back here would be an insult.
They charged.
The first collision—
A roar.
As if the air itself exploded between them.
The ground cracked beneath their feet, dust and stone scattering outward.
It was only a single strike…
yet it was enough to shock everyone.
Amazing control of aura.
Refined power, without chaos.
The battle began—violent and fluid at the same time.
If the girls' duel had drawn sword art upon the ground,
then this battle…
was shattering the ground itself.
Fast.
Violent.
Terrifyingly beautiful.
Their movements weren't reckless.
Every strike had purpose.
Every retreat was calculated.
The students were stunned.
Some drowned in jealousy,
others in silent admiration.
Shuang-Yu watched with an expert eye, puzzled:
No style… no techniques… just pure instinct.
And yet… it was truly beautiful.
As for Aileen, she saw no techniques at all.
She saw a soul merged with the sword,
as if the blade were an extension of the heart itself.
The fight continued.
The ground broke.
The boundaries of the arena faded.
Until both finally ran out of strength.
Silence fell.
Then… a draw.
Reinhardt stood and extended his hand with a sincere smile.
— Well fought. That was a great duel.
Suho stood as well, slightly dazed.
A kid his age… and this level of composure?
He shook his hand and said with an excited grin:
— Looks like we'll be sparring a lot, blondie.
The two stood there, intoxicated by the joy of combat.
And it was clear…
This wasn't an ending,
but the beginning of a strong friendship.
The scene shifted to the magic class.
Emily sat there, her face resembling a sulking cat.
She sneezed.
— Why do I feel… like I missed something?
End of Chapter