Return of the Mythic Bloodline Chapter 271: Filling the gap of each other

With determination burning in her eyes, Nyria lunged forward gracefully with her little steps.

She had barely reached halfway when the old cultivator stopped her mid-stride.

"Lady Nyria! You mustn’t raise your weapon against the Prince!" the old cultivator exclaid, his face horrified. "It would be treason!"

"Grandpa Oswin, I’m only playing sword-sword, just like I play with you," Nyria pouted in protest, her cheeks puffing out.

"Th-this is different, Lady Nyria," the old man nad Oswin insisted. "The Prince mustn’t be hard, or we will face the wrath of the heavens."

Taranis, who had been listening to the conversation from the sidelines, grew angrier with every word that left Oswin’s mouth. The reaction Oswin was giving was exactly the sa as the one countless parents had shown whenever their children tried to get a little closer to him—resulting in the sa unbreakable wall being erected between them and Taranis.

Until now, Taranis had never insisted further when parents or elders stepped in to ensure their children wouldn’t cross the line. As the Prince of the Hundred Sky Mountains, he had to maintain his dignity; pleading further was simply out of the question.

The young prince had lost count of how many tis he had heard the sa damn words Oswin was saying. Just like every other ti, Taranis should have turned away with his usual arrogant line: I was only showing goodwill by offering my friendship, but it seems you are not worthy of it.

However, sothing within him refused to let him either speak those words or turn his body away. He felt that if he stepped back this ti as well, he would surely regret it.

Taranis parted his lips, and just as he was about to step in—

"Mr. Oswin, you are disrespecting the Prince by halting a ga the Prince himself wishes to play," Nyria muttered, her visage serious and her voice cold. "Moreover, my status as the goddess of the Hundred Sky Mountains and the daughter of Aurelion El Snowbane already makes worthy of becoming friends with Taranis."

Oswin parted his lips to protest but couldn’t utter a single word. If he stopped them now, he would not only be disrespecting Aurelion—the lord to whom he had sworn his loyalty—but also challenging Nyria’s status as a goddess, which could invite the heavens’ wrath upon him.

"F-forgive for my insolence, Lady Nyria," Oswin muttered, biting his lips.

When he stepped back, Nyria turned to Taranis, who had been utterly enchanted by the little goddess’s words. It was the first ti soone had gone against an elder’s orders just to be his friend.

"She is truly an angel," Taranis murmured to himself.

"Taranis... Taranis?" Nyria called, moving closer to the dazed prince.

"Oh—right. Let’s play," Taranis blurted out, finally returning to his senses.

"Then draw your sword," Nyria ordered, stepping a few feet back.

Giving a slight nod, Taranis drew his sword. The mont he did, Nyria hurled herself at him with fast, graceful steps.

This ti, their blades clashed, emitting bright sparks and a sharp screech.

Nyria’s physical strength was nowhere near Taranis’s. Not only was he older, but he had also spent most of his ti in the forest among wild animals. He didn’t even use half of his strength to block her attack.

Nyria withdrew her sword and, pouring more strength into her little arms, brought it down again.

Taranis easily dodged by stepping sideways, yet still didn’t launch an attack of his own.

For the next half hour, Nyria relentlessly swung her sword against the immovable boulder that was the Prince, while he dodged and parried every one of her attacks with ease.

"Taranis! Why won’t you swing your sword?" Nyria demanded, her eyes narrowing in irritation. "You said we are friends, but you’re treating just like Mr. Oswin and all the other guards."

She lowered her sword, sadness tugging at her snow-white face.

Since the mont Taranis had learned to walk, the greatest joy of the little prince had been engaging in duels and erging victorious—no matter the opponent. It was as if battle itself was engraved into his very blood.

By now, Taranis had already defeated every beast that resided in the second layer of the Mountain of Ten Thousand Beasts. Not even once had the prince held back against his opponents until they admitted defeat.

But with Nyria, it was different.

Against Nyria—who appeared like an angel in Taranis’s eyes—he simply couldn’t bring himself to raise his weapon against her.

Taranis couldn’t understand the reason behind this strange feeling, but by remaining stiff and refusing to launch an attack, he had unknowingly treated Nyria the sa way her guards always did when she asked them to play sword-sword with her.

"I was only assessing the depth of your skills, Nyria," Taranis announced, finally realizing his mistake. "Brace yourself. I will be the one attacking now."

Nyria’s saddened expression instantly brightened upon hearing his words.

Her sword rose once more as she declared, "I’m ready, Taranis."

In a swift blur of motion, Taranis rushed forward, his sword slicing horizontally toward Nyria.

The snow goddess barely managed to block the strike with her blade, yet the force still sent her skidding several feet backward.

Her little hands trembled uncontrollably from the aftershock of the blow, but her eyes glead with excitent like never before.

This—this was the feeling of exhilaration the little goddess had been yearning for.

"One more ti," Nyria ordered, a bright smile lighting up her luminous face, betraying the strain her hands were enduring.

Taranis obliged, lifting his sword once again. And so, a fierce dance of blades began between the two gods.

---

"Y-you are so strong, Taranis," Nyria huffed, resting as she leaned against a tree. "I couldn’t hit you even once."

"I had so much fun, thanks to you, Nyria," Taranis murmured as he sat beside her. Unlike Nyria, who was drenched in sweat from head to toe, Taranis had barely broken a sweat.

"Lady Nyria, it’s getting dark," Oswin said nervously, afraid of being scolded again. "We must return now."

Letting out a reluctant sigh, Nyria rose to her feet and prepared for their departure.

Oswin retrieved a grand silver chariot adorned with intricate patterns from his spatial ring. Just as Nyria climbed the chariot’s steps, Taranis called out, his features etched with worry.

"Nyria... will you co tomorrow?"

Nyria halted mid-step and turned back to look at the anxious prince, who feared this might be their final eting.

"I will surely co," she replied, a beautiful smile tugging at her face.