The battlefield was a storm of violence, screams, and steel. Lukas fought with every ounce of strength he had left, his saber heavy in his hand as he struggled against the relentless Drevyn elites. The exhaustion in his body weighed him down, each movement slower than the last.
His mind raced, desperately trying to hold onto the system's guidance, but even that felt distant now.
He blocked a strike from one warrior, the clash of metal ringing in his ears, but the force of the blow nearly sent him to his knees. His body screamed for rest, his Ether reserves drained after the intense fight with the Juggernaut.
"Too slow..." Lukas muttered to himself, frustration surging through him as another attack came his way. He ducked, barely avoiding a swing aimed at his head. He could feel the heat of the blade pass over him, close enough to leave a stinging sensation in its wake.
The system's alerts were ringing in his head, but Lukas could barely process them. Another opponent stepped forward, a hulking figure with a broad axe raised high. Lukas tried to move, tried to summon the strength to defend himself, but his legs refused to cooperate.
The axe began its descent.
Suddenly, the clang of metal rang out. The axe was deflected, knocked aside by a rapier—a thin, graceful weapon that moved too quickly for Lukas to follow. In the blink of an eye, the Drevyn warrior staggered back, clutching his throat as blood poured from a series of rapid, precise strikes. He collapsed, dead before his body hit the ground.
Lukas blinked, his mind struggling to catch up. Standing over the fallen warrior was a woman—a young woman, fierce and breathtaking, with a rapier in hand and a fire in her eyes. Her battle armor hugged her figure, accentuating her curves and grace, but it was the way she moved that drew Lukas's attention. She moved like a predator—fluid, fast, deadly.
For a moment, Lukas found himself unable to speak. The sight of her, combined with the exhaustion and the remnants of the old Lukas still lingering in his mind, sent a wave of heat through him. He couldn't help but notice the way her armor hugged her body, and for a brief moment, the old thoughts—*the old Lukas's* thoughts—flickered through his mind.
*Focus, damn it!* Lukas mentally scolded himself. This wasn't the time for that. He wasn't the old Lukas anymore. He was different now. But the realization hit him hard—some part of the old him still lingered, lurking in the back of his mind.
"Fool," the woman snapped, her voice sharp and commanding. "If I hadn't intervened, you'd be dead."
Lukas blinked, shaking himself out of his thoughts. "I had it under control," he muttered, though even he knew it was a lie.
She arched an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "Under control? You were about to be cleaved in half."
Before Lukas could respond, another Drevyn warrior charged at them, his blade raised. The woman barely spared him a glance before she moved again, her rapier flashing in the light. In an instant, the warrior was on the ground, dead from multiple precise stabs delivered in quick succession.
Lukas watched, stunned by the effortless grace with which she fought. Whoever she was, she wasn't just any fighter—she was leagues above the others, moving with the precision and elegance of a master swordsman.
"Who are you?" Lukas finally managed to ask, his voice rough from the exhaustion and confusion.
She didn't even look at him as she replied. "I'm here to save your life, apparently."
Lukas stared at her, feeling the pieces slowly fall into place. He knew her, didn't he? There was something familiar about her voice, her movements... then it clicked.
"Wait," Lukas called out, his heart pounding as memories from his childhood resurfaced. "You're... you're my betrothed, aren't you?"
The woman finally turned to face him, her piercing eyes locking onto his. "Aurelia," she said coolly, her tone making it clear she wasn't particularly thrilled about the situation. "Yes, Lukas. I'm your betrothed. And frankly, you're not making a great first impression."
Aurelia. The name hit him like a punch to the gut. She had grown up to become something completely different from the girl he had vague memories of. She was no longer the quiet, awkward child he had known. Now, she was fierce, confident, and every bit as skilled as the system had hinted she would be.
---
The battle raged around them, but with Aurelia at his side, the tide began to turn. She moved through the battlefield like a dancer, her rapier cutting down enemies with speed and precision. Each movement was a blur, her footwork light and nearly impossible to track. Lukas couldn't help but watch her in awe—she was the embodiment of everything he wasn't right now: poised, powerful, and in complete control.
While Lukas fought to keep up, cutting down the Drevyn soldiers that came his way, he couldn't help but feel frustrated. Aurelia had been betrothed to him, yet she was clearly the stronger one, the more experienced fighter. His inadequacies were all too apparent, and it gnawed at him.
As they fought, more elite soldiers joined the battle. Aurelia's brother, a man named Kalen, led the charge. His presence was just as imposing as his sister's, and he moved through the battlefield with a level of skill that only someone at the second stage of cultivation—Essence Formation—could display.
Kalen cut through the Drevyn forces with brutal efficiency, his movements calculated and devastating. His soldiers followed suit, their elite training evident as they pushed the Drevyns back, driving them into retreat.
Captain Thorn, bloodied and battle-worn but still standing strong, made his way toward Kalen as the remaining Drevyn soldiers fled into the forest.
"Reinforcements?" Thorn asked, his voice rough from the exertion. "I didn't request any."
Kalen gave him a brief, respectful nod. "The young miss wanted to join the fray," he explained, his tone stiff but polite. "She insisted this would be valuable training."
Thorn raised an eyebrow but didn't argue. "If you're offering help, I'll take it," he said, scanning the battlefield with tired eyes. "You outrank me—if you want command, it's yours."
Kalen shook his head. "You keep command. We'll provide support as needed."
Thorn grunted in approval before turning his attention back to the retreating Drevyn forces. "We'll need to fortify our position before they come back. This was a small skirmish, but they'll return. And next time, they'll be ready."
With the Drevyns in retreat, the Valerian soldiers began regrouping, tending to the wounded and securing the area. Lukas sheathed his saber, his body aching from the strain of the battle.
Aurelia, her armor still gleaming and unmarred, walked past him without a word, her expression unreadable. Lukas watched her go, feeling a mix of admiration and frustration. She had saved him, there was no denying that, but the fact that she had done it so easily while he had struggled gnawed at him.
As Aurelia disappeared into the ranks of her soldiers, Lukas let out a slow breath. This was not the reunion he had expected.
But something else lingered in the back of his mind—despite her sharp words and her apparent disdain for him, there had been a moment, a flicker of something softer in her gaze when she had looked at him.
Lukas smiled to himself. This was going to be interesting.