A tense silence settled over the underground garage. Every gaze was sharp, every muscle tight, the invisible smoke of previous battles lingering in the air. It felt as if even the slightest movement would ignite everything again.
Croy took a deep, steadying breath, suppressing the pounding of his own heartbeat. Then, he made the first move.
With a quick flick of his wrist, he shot an Electric Orb at Jradan.
'Nothing personal,' he thought.
Though, truthfully, it was very personal.
Jradan, however, barely looked surprised. The runes on his spear glowed a brilliant yellow, and with a swift, practiced thrust, he shattered Croy's attack with the vibrating tip of his weapon.
But Croy didn't wait to see the outcome. Instead, he charged straight toward Inera, aiming for the terminal.
After all, wasn't that still the real goal?
Inera cracked her whip toward him, the wind whistling like a storm. Croy deftly dodged, but the whip's tip snapped against the ground near him, and an invisible gust of wind threw him off balance.
He stumbled, but with Ineras attention on him, it gave the perfect opening for Princess Kadutor, who had already closed the distance, her black daggers flashing in the shadows like a predator's eyes.
Inera raised her hand, muttering the incantation for Shadow Hand, but before the dark manifestation could emerge, the princess hurled one of her daggers directly into Inera's shadow.
'No', Croy realized.
'She threw it before Inera had even began casting the spell.'
The barely formed Shadow Hand was pinned to the ground, pierced as if it were a living creature. Inera's face twisted in a grimace, but before she could react, Princess Kadutor's second dagger gleamed in the air, hurtling toward her. Inera managed to leap aside, narrowly avoiding the blade, but she couldn't recover fast enough to dodge the princess's powerful kick, which sent her sprawling to the ground.
Princess Kadutor stepped forward, ready to secure her victory, when she suddenly staggered. Her feet had been caught. Stone shackles had shot up from the ground, binding her in place.
"When two fight, the third reaps the rewards," murmured Croy as he watched Lord Jradan seize the chance to dash past the two girls, heading straight for the terminal.
But Croy hadn't been idle.
And if the third rejoices, the fourth triumphs, he told himself with a grin. It might be a made-up saying, but it certainly fit.
Jradan held his smartwatch to the terminal, initiating a thirty-second countdown. Yet, before even three seconds had ticked down, Croy leaped forward, thrusting his sword in a straight line. With no time to block with his spear, Jradan had no choice but to dodge.
The young lord staggered backward - straight into a furious Princess Kadutor's flying kick.
His automatic barrier didn't activate, but the blow still sent him skidding across the ground.
The teamwork had been entirely unplanned, but Croy wasn't about to complain. He'd wanted to give Jradan a similar lesson after their last duel, and playing a part in it was nearly as satisfying.
But he and the princess were once again rivals, both standing before the terminal, their eyes locked.
"Nice distraction," she said with a smirk.
"Good kick," Croy replied.
Then they lunged at each other.
Their weapons clashed with a loud crash - Croy wielding his bastard sword, an impressive hand-and-a-half weapon, while the princess struck with quick, precise movements of her daggers. He held his sword firmly, trying to counter her speed, but Princess Kadutor was skilled, and her swift strikes were relentless.
He was learning. Each step, each swing of his blade taught him to wield it as an extension of himself. But Kadutor had years of training with her daggers, and it showed.
Soon, Croy felt himself losing ground, if he had even held it in the first place. It wouldn't be long before he'd have to sacrifice his passive barrier or risk taking a hit to push her back.
But just then, Princess Kadutor suddenly retreated. A whip's strike had nearly grazed her.
Croy also leaped back as a stone spear shot up from the ground, narrowly missing him.
They both turned to see Lord Jradan and Inera standing side by side, breathing heavily and looking incredibly annoyed.
Croy grinned. The two weren't attacking each other.
"What's this? A new alliance?" he asked playfully, though a hint of nerves tinged his words.
Inera grimaced, glaring at Princess Kadutor with hostility.
Jradan raised his spear, his eyes narrowed and fixed on Croy.
"A shared grievance," he said with a smug smile, summoning his weapon with a command:
"Swing, Thistlethorn!"
Croy threw a sidelong glance at Princess Kadutor and grinned.
"You know, I'm still mad about the party."
She returned his grin, eyes flashing dangerously.
"Then let me make it up to you," she replied, lifting her daggers and assuming a ready stance, like a predator poised to pounce.
For a moment, everything fell silent. The terminal stood unguarded, almost forgotten. Croy could feel the original point of the contest slipping away.
This wasn't about points or terminals anymore - each of them just wanted to beat the others. The thrill of the duel had taken hold.
"But you already tried to make it up. You even offered-"
Croy didn't get to finish his sentence; Princess Kadutor was already charging. He smirked and sprinted forward as well. The standoff was broken, the battle was back on.
Croy attacked Jradan, while Princess Kadutor took on Inera. Once more, Croy found himself locked in combat with Jradan, but this time felt different. His previous fight had taught him to leverage his movements, to read the spear's reach, to anticipate his own limits.
He swung his sword in a diagonal arc, but Jradan deftly sidestepped and countered with a quick thrust. Croy barely dodged, just in time to avoid the deadly spearhead.
Jradan's spear moved like a pendulum, its blade a constant blur of mana vibrations.
'I can't parry that,' Croy reminded himself.
The two circled each other, Croy's strikes precise but cautious, while Jradan's sweeping stabs and skillful jabs kept him on edge.
Croy was losing ground, again.
But suddenly, Croy halted, feeling a resolution forming within him.
'I won't win this way,' he thought.
'Jradan knows I don't want to parry and is fighting accordingly. But I can parry - if I pull it off.'
Should he risk it?
'Ah, screw it.'
In an unexpected moment, Jradan lowered his spear, swinging it sharply downward. But Croy didn't back away. Instead, he gripped the bastard sword with both hands, stepped forward, closing the distance so Jradan's spear couldn't strike fully.
"Sharpen!" Croy shouted.
Three pulse-like waves of violet mana shot from his heart, coursing through his shoulders, down his arms, into his fingers, and filled the sword's sharpening rune. It lit up, and for a moment, the entire blade seemed to shimmer with violet light.
The spear and sword collided with a deafening clang. This time, however, the impact didn't leave him as helpless as before. Instead, Croy felt himself pushing Jradan back, though he too was thrown a few steps backward, stumbling before regaining his stance.
'Ah, that hurts.'
Shaking his arms to dispel the lingering vibrations from Jradan's mana waves, he grinned at the now glowing rune. He had actually pulled it off. Finally.
Yet it hadn't been enough.
The pulse had coursed through him even in its weakened state, and it burned. But Jradan hadn't escaped unscathed, either.
Croy grinned, a glint of triumph in his eyes.
Jradan grimaced, eyeing him with narrowed eyes.
"You've learned to use the rune," he said, a trace of respect in his voice.
"No," Croy replied casually, pointing his sword at him.
"I just tried it for fun."
The duel between Croy and Jradan was in full swing. With each strike, each spell, it seemed as though Croy was drawing closer to being Jradan's equal. Jradan's technique was precise, his movements trained and graceful. But Croy fought with a raw energy, forged from years of combat experience.
Every discharge, every electric orb, every barrier he conjured kept the fight alive, a fierce, unrelenting battle.
But Jradan didn't relent either. Every time Croy thought he finally had the upper hand, Jradan would let the runes on his spear fade and conjure a yellow barrier around himself. The shield wasn't strong enough to stop Croy entirely, but it bought the young lord the crucial second he needed to reposition.
"You've learned a few new tricks too!" Croy called with a half-amused, half-strained grin. Jradan just grinned back.
In that moment, there was nothing else for Croy. Only he and Jradan, the weight of his sword, the charged mana gathering at his fingertips, and his opponent, spear in hand, both locked in a dance of steel and sorcery.
Until there was something else.
A chill ran through him.
An instinctual alarm, honed from years of staring death in the face.
A sensation that froze every cell in his body.
Instinctively, Croy jumped back and glanced over. Princess Kadutor had defeated Inera, who now lay unconscious on the ground. But her gaze was fixed elsewhere, and as Croy followed the direction of her eyes, he saw why.
A new figure had appeared, a student... No, this wasn't a student. The figure wore civilian clothes.
'Hisama?' thought Croy, confused.
It was the mysterious man from earlier in the afternoon. But his gaze held only coldness. Hisama was running down the ramp of the parking garage, heading straight for the battlefield.
Something was terribly amiss. Hisama shouldn't be here. He was dangerous.
Croy wanted to regroup, but Jradan was immediately upon him again. The spear bore down on him, leaving him no chance to look away. The sharpening rune on Croy's sword continued to pulse, but the mana began to flicker, as if its strength could no longer withstand the relentless pressure of the spear.
Sword and spear pressed against each other, and Croy felt the vibrations from Jradan's power coursing through his arms, a dull, piercing pain that weakened his movements.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Hisama. The man's gaze was fixed on him.
Murderous intent. That was murder in his eyes.
A silencer.
His arms and legs, his entire body strained against Jradan's spear, but his thoughts were elsewhere.
His heart pounded, his mind screamed of impending danger.
Then, the man pulled something from his belt. Croy recognized that weapon immediately. He would recognize it anywhere. A Spellpistol.
Panic flooded Croy.
"Get away from me!" Croy yelled, but Jradan didn't seem to register it, his gaze remained focused solely on Croy.
That bastard was a battle freak!
In that moment, Jradan seized the distraction. With a lightning-quick maneuver, he pivoted to the side, and before Croy could react, he felt a powerful blow from the side.
The violet mana barrier shattered into countless glowing sparks.
'That's it.'
His own passive barrier had been broken once again. Croy was bracing himself for the inevitable.
Normally, the automatic barrier of his smartwatch should activate now and take him out of the match.
But nothing happened.
The spear struck him again, this time without any barrier's protection. The impact felt like thunder, a powerful blow that hurled him several meters backward. The spear's vibrating force coursed through him, nearly rendering him numb.
Finally, he landed hard on the ground, barely a meter away from Inera.
Dazed, Croy tried to regain his bearings.
'What just happened? Why is Hisama here…?'
Why hadn't the smartwatch's barrier activated?
"Hey, who are you? What are you doing?" he suddenly heard Princess Kadutor's horrified voice. But her gaze wasn't on Jradan.
The young lord stood there, spear in hand, staring at Croy in confusion, as if he didn't understand what had just happened either.
A sound, faint but unmistakable, cut through the tense air - a spell. Jradan turned towards the sound, and Croy tried to move his head too, but the throbbing pain barely allowed it.
"Belmont! Dodge!" he heard Jradan's startled voice.
'Dodge? From what…'
But before he could gather his thoughts, a green Bullet of Mana shot through him.