As Invel's gaze draped the forest in silence, Keres' complexion stiffened. His attack on Inara was aimed at provoking a heated reaction from the prince. He did achieve the expected outcome but he was far from satisfied.
Despite the chakra restriction, Invel had pulled off three different supernatural feats, leaving the teenager exceedingly puzzled.
A hint of unease trickled down his spine. Yet, as he took a steadying breath, his worry evaporated like morning mist.
'It was never going to be easy, anyway,' he swallowed hard in his mouth, ushering in a profound sense of level headedness.
Moreover, honing his keen senses, he could pinpoint an alarming number of openings in the prince's casual stance. Even though it was suspicious, he refused to let any second thoughts hinder his resolve this time around.
The tension in the air became almost tangible as both parties stood in silence, locked in a prelude to confrontation.
The atmosphere hung heavy, breaths suspended. A lone leaf descended, and the instant it met the ground, Keres surged forward, shattering the atmosphere's stillness with a bullet-like intensity.
Confronted with his opponent's charge, Invel retained a casual demeanor. Unfazed, he quietly scrutinized the teenage boy through the supernatural lenses of his keen, charcoal-black eyes.
Though Keres found his apparent indifference unsettling, he was determined to impart a lesson to the arrogant prince for underestimating him.
"Go to hell, Invel!" A venomous shout rang out as the teenager unleashed a straightforward yet explosive strike. The blade cleaved through the air, its keen edge aimed at Invel's torso.
The strike seemed imminent; however, a split-second before it grazed him, Invel slithered backwards, effortlessly avoiding the impending danger.
TSSSSSS!
Leaves rustled as Keres' attack met only air. Undeterred, he pressed forward, masterfully withholding the kinetic energy before redirecting his swing into a reverse diagonal strike.
'I've got you now!' The teenager smirked, and indeed, Invel's eyes momentarily widened in surprise.
He hadn't anticipated this sudden improvisation, yet like a fleeting blur of serpentine flair, his body contorted, and evaded the back edge strike by a paper-thin margin.
Keres' face distorted. But with a determined expression, he pressed forward continuing his dance.
He unleashed a swift pattern of unconventional sword movements. But each swing was met only by the faint whisper of air.
'This bastard...' The teenager cursed internally as he lunged, pivoted mid-air, and then swung down at the prince with acrobatic fluidity.
A severe chill descended Keres' spine as his attack slashed through his adversary's afterimage. The ever-observant Invel had avoided the strike, exploiting the vulnerability of Keres' right-handed welding.
Maneuvering into the teenager's blind spot, the prince suddenly countered with blinding speed. His foot sliced into the air like a rocket as if aiming to shatter the dumbfounded swordsman's skull from behind.
Promptly lifting his left arm, Keres blocked the roundhouse kick, enduring the searing recoil resonating through his nerves. Although he was initially caught off guard, his unparalleled sensory prowess allowed him to react in time.
Sustaining the momentum, his nimble frame twisted, and he violently thrust his sword, the steel blade blitzed towards the prince like unstoppable lightning.
However, Invel responded with a smirk.
As Keres realized that the prince had exploited the first kick's impact rebound to set the stage for another, he found himself caught in the motion before he could react.
A fleeting moment suspended in time, yet he was unable to evade as the prince spun like a cyclone in human form.
POW!
Invel's heel thwacked the side of the teenager's crown, sending a deafening impact through his skull.
"Damn it!" Lines of frustration formed on Keres' face as he retreated backwards with a leap.
Ignoring the bruise on his face, the teenager reassessed the exchange, seizing the opportunity presented by this tactical retreat.
Suddenly, a memory flashed in his mind. It was the time Milan praised his erratic combat style, asserting that its deceptive and unpredictable nature made it too difficult for her to keep up with.
Initially, he brushed it off as mere flattery. But with each subsequent battle against different opponents, he gradually came to see the truth behind her statement.
If the chakra restriction and his innate ability were the canvas and paint of his duel-winning strategy, his eccentricity, in itself, was the paintbrush. That had remained the case, at least up until this point.
He began wondering if Invel was using an ability similar to 'The Seventh Dimension.' And as he was lost in his thoughts, Invel's voice cut through the air, snapping his attention back to the immediate reality.
"Those red eyes... they're just for show, aren't they?" The prince inquired, and in response, Keres furrowed his brows, his heart skipping an important beat.
"What... do you mean?"
"Your attack patterns are all over the place, yet every strike consciously targets a vital spot. It's almost impressive but what I find even more intriguing are those pupils that didn't twitch even once throughout the entire exchange."
"Also, effortlessly blocking an attack from your blind spot makes it pretty clear that your other senses are seriously sharp" The prince continued, and Keres, feeling a surge of relief, swallowed a soft breath.
Even though Invel had discerned the basis of his secret, the prince was only aware of half of the truth. His mind eased up, prompting a relaxed response.
"And what if they are?" The teenager flashed a boisterous smirk. "Don't tell me you're getting cold feet all of a sudden." He furthered and Invel sighed in response.
"Nah, your combat approach just amuses me a little. But it's no big deal 'cause that's all there is to it" He gently shook his head sideways as his voice cloaked the nocturnal forest in silence. "For someone who sure likes to attack head on, your swings are slow and severely lacking in power, if you ask me"
"What?" A frown wrinkled Keres' face. In response, Invel offered a callous shrug, pressing a sore spot somewhere within the teenager's soul.
"Tch, we'll see about that" The young swordsman spoke.
"Do you guys seriously have to keep this up?" Inara's voice suddenly emerged.
Invel immediately glanced in her direction and spoke in a gentle voice.
"Ina, it's a little too late to say that, don't you think?"
"..." She remained silent. And in the next moment, Keres also spoke, inducing a new layer of gravity into the atmosphere.
"He's got a point. I'm definitely not backing off until I disfigure this arrogant jerk's face."
"Pfft" The prince scoffed. "Well, there you have it, Ina. So just step back and enjoy the show. Who knows, you might pick up a few pointers on close quarters-combat."
Wearing a nonchalant expression, he beckoned Keres forward. And as the teenager steadily circled around him like a scheming predator, the air seemed to crystallize, anticipating the exchange about to unfold.
In a heartbeat, Keres activated second gear, closing the distance with a burst of speed.
His sword glimmered in the moonlight, thirsty for blood. But in that instant— he switched to his dominant left hand, changing the angle of attack. An air of triumph briefly lit up his face, there is no way Invel would've seen that coming. However—
'Huh?' His triumphant grin twisted into a grim realization as he sensed a subtle disturbance from down below.
"If this really is the best trick you've got, then I must say, I'm truly disappointed" The prince taunted with a piercing chillness fortifying his voice.
Using the in-step of his foot to hurl a wooden sword upwards from its snowy burial, he showcased the true art of deceptive improvisation.
In a breathtaking maneuver, Invel seized the wooden sword, intercepting Keres' strike with a masterful deflection.
CLANG!
The clash of steel against wood reverberated through the air. And Keres' complexion contorted.
"Fuck off!" The teenager's cry of frustration rang out as his sword rebounded with a tingling vibration.
Hoisting himself into the air, he forcefully swung downward. His keen blade glimmered with murderous intent but Invel blocked it effortlessly.
Keres then unleashed an unconventional barrage, twisting mid-air as his swirling blade kept aiming for the prince's apparent vulnerable points.
Each swing was a brushstroke against an unyielding canvas, leaves spiraling into the air with every movement. Yet, Invel managed to parry them all, without breaking a sweat.
As the battle continued, Keres' frustration only grew. The inability to land a solid blow on his opponent stirred an emotional turmoil within him.
Soon, his exhaustion began brewing and when he realized this, he decided to change his approach.
Settling on his feet, Keres lunged forward with a fiery diagonal swing— a calculated frontal assault, seemingly intended at splitting the prince's torso in half. Yet, in that instant, the young swordsman redirected his strike into a sweeping ascent with fluid precision.
Like a specter of controlled fluidity, Invel subtly adjusted his stance. The dance of misdirection was met by a viper-like sidestep, a near-miss that echoed a whisper of steel through the air.
The duet continued with a barrage of intricate swordplay flowing from Keres' agile form.
The prince, adopting a defensive stance, countered with artistic deflections, employing corresponding techniques from his arsenal.
Trails of brown and silver decorated the winter night, and Keres' movements started to slow.
"Huff... huff... huff..." He soon began breathing heavily.
When this happened, Inara determined that his defeat was imminent.
'If only he focused on disarming big brother by attacking the weakened areas of the wooden sword' she thought. But that sort of approach wasn't his style, and her brother had realized this as well.
Suddenly, Invel struck back with terrifying speed. His wooden sword extended, cleaving through the air like tiger claws.
The force, inconceivable from mere wood, left Keres with no choice. Both hands engaged, adopting a desperate defensive form to withstand the approaching missile.
CLANG!
A deafening noise rang out. And in the aftermath, their swords crossed against each other in a bind.
Invel initially pushed Keres back with his superior strength. But releasing a primal roar, the teenager pushed back as if drawing power from the vitality of the forest.
Yet, the steel blade yielded as Invel wound his wooden sword around Keres'.
An opening formed, and the prince exploited it with a ferocious barrage.
His wooden sword sang through the air and before Keres could react, three rapid hits assaulted him in a single breath.
Fueled by his heightened senses, the teenager managed to evade a fourth strike, but not without suffering injuries as blood began flowing out from the reddened areas of his face.
Urgency gripped him; he needed to act swiftly, otherwise, the battle was as good as lost.
Keres attempted to retreat backward. But Invel denied him that luxury as a meteoric uppercut suddenly launched the teenager into the air.
A bloodied gasp escaped his mouth as the gravity-defying force reverberated through his frame.
Before his descent, Invel's onslaught intensified, turning the fall into a cascade of strikes.
The first was a thunderous kick to the midsection, a force that threatened to rupture the teenager's intestine. Following up was another meteor that undeniably cracked something in Keres' ribcage.
Before the teenage swordsman could fathom the bombardment, an iron-shattering strike to his face sent him hurtling through the air.
In the end, he inadvertently crashed into the very same tree he collided with several minutes before.