The very instant our swords collided, the sound alone felt like it split the air in two. Steel scread against steel, and a violent shockwave exploded outward from the point of impact. The force rippled through the arena in a visible distortion, like heat waves rising from scorched earth. My hair whipped back wildly, strands snapping against my face as if the wind itself had taken offense to our clash.
And that was just the first hit.
The mont his slash t mine, I felt it all the way down to my bones. My arms buckled slightly under the sheer weight behind his strike. It wasn’t just strength. It was pressure. The kind that made your instincts scream at you to run.
If I hadn’t clenched my jaw so hard my teeth hurt, I might have collapsed right there. The impact rattled through my shoulders, into my spine, down to my legs. For a split second, my vision flickered.
His swing carried so much force that it nearly knocked off my footing entirely. And that wasn’t even a special move. That was just him swinging.
I poured more mana into the Cursed Sword. I could feel it responding, drinking it in eagerly. The blade pulsed faintly in my grip as power surged back into my limbs. My muscles tightened. My grip steadied.
It worked, although barely.
With a strained exhale, I pushed his blade off to the side, forcing open the smallest gap.
I didn’t hesitate. I swung at him imdiately, aiming straight for his center—
And hit nothing.
There was no resistance at all and no impact. There was no vibration too.
It was just air.
For a split second, my brain refused to process it.
Then I felt it.
There was a presence behind .
I twisted my eyes over my shoulder and saw his blade already closing in on my neck.
At neck-breaking speed.
There was no dramatic wind-up. There was no flashy flourish. Just clean, terrifying efficiency.
I didn’t even have the ti to properly turn my body.
Instinct moved before thought did. I raised my sword and blocked.
The clash rang out again, sharper this ti. I felt the full brunt of the blow crash down on , and my knees almost gave out. My arms trembled violently under the impact, but I stayed upright.
Barely.
If not for the surge of strength granted by the Cursed Sword, I would’ve been flattened.
"Kuh...!"
The sound tore from my throat without permission.
Even so, it felt useless. Despite wielding a Cursed Sword—despite pumping it full of mana—it was like I still couldn’t asure up. In fact, it felt like I was the one being overwheld.
Was he really this strong?
No.
That wasn’t right.
It felt worse than that.
It felt like he wasn’t even trying.
Normally, I could sense a person’s ceiling. Everyone had limits. Everyone had an upper boundary to their strength, sothing you could feel if you paid enough attention.
But Leon?
There was nothing.
He had no clear edge. I couldn’t see a asurable peak.
It was like staring into a sky without clouds, trying to figure out where it ended.
Was his power so far beyond that I couldn’t even begin to grasp it? Or was it sothing else entirely—sothing that couldn’t be read in the first place?
I didn’t know.
And I didn’t have the luxury of standing around philosophizing about it.
I had to defeat him.
Leon suddenly dashed.
There was no warning. One mont he stood there, calm as ever. The next, the air tore apart beside .
I sharpened my senses, forcing everything into focus. I felt him move to my side at bullet-like speed, fast enough to carve through the air and leave a spiraling distortion in his wake. The pressure alone made my ears ring.
I raised my sword just in ti.
The collision that followed nearly drove to my knees.
The ground beneath my boots cracked faintly from the force.
How strong could he possibly be?
How many years did soone have to train to beco like this? Decades? A lifeti? Two lifetis?
I didn’t know.
The worst part?
I didn’t really know him at all.
He had introduced himself as the weakest in the academy. I didn’t believe it at first. There was no way. I thought he was joking, or maybe just self-deprecating.
Over ti, though, I almost convinced myself it was true.
Almost.
But there had always been sothing off. Sothing that didn’t add up. A quiet confidence behind his eyes. A steadiness that didn’t match the label he gave himself.
And now?
Now I knew.
He had never been weak.
He had been hiding.
It felt like I was a puppet, and he was the one casually pulling the strings.
"Nnn...!"
I gritted my teeth and launched into a barrage of slashes.
Our swords clashed again and again, the sound overlapping into a continuous tallic storm. Our arms blurred from the speed. The blades moved so fast that to an ordinary observer, it would’ve looked like flashing streaks of light colliding midair.
Even to , it was starting to blur.
Each strike flowed into the next. Each block barely transitioned into a counter. The pace kept accelerating.
"Raaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhh!!!"
I roared with every swing, pouring frustration, fear, and stubborn pride into each attack. Maybe it looked dramatic. Maybe it was dramatic. I didn’t care.
anwhile, he stayed calm.
Annoyingly calm.
He blocked. Deflected. Redirected. Every movent clean, controlled, and almost surgical.
At so point, I realized sothing horrifying.
I wasn’t attacking anymore.
I was defending.
And I was losing ground.
Fine.
If that’s how it was going to be—
I forced even more mana into the Cursed Sword.
The blade pulsed violently in my grip. Power surged through my arm so intensely that my veins darkened, my skin taking on a faint purple hue. It felt like molten energy was being injected directly into my muscles.
It hurt.
But I welcod it.
Leon’s eyes widened slightly when he saw the change.
Then he stepped back.
Did I scare him?
For half a second, I wanted to believe that.
But no.
There was no fear in his gaze. There was no hesitation.
Just calculation.
Like he was evaluating a specin.
I dashed forward imdiately, refusing to let him control the pace.
He pulled his sword arm back.
The movent was subtle.
It was too subtle.
Then he thrust.
The thrust ca with a dash so fast that my eyes couldn’t keep up. It wasn’t just speed. It was disappearance. One blink and he was gone from where he had been.
Then he was in front of .
Impact.
The force detonated against my guard, and I was blasted backward as if struck by an invisible explosion.
What was that?
Magic?
Did he just trigger so kind of compressed burst and send flying?
My back slamd into the barrier surrounding the arena. The collision knocked every bit of air from my lungs in one violent rush.
For a mont, all I could do was gasp soundlessly.
"He’s strong."
The voice ca from inside my head.
It was calm and clear. And at first, it sounded androgynous.
"You cannot defeat him like this. Allow to assist you."
It was the sword.
For so reason, I didn’t say anything.
Maybe it was desperation. Maybe it was instinct.
Maybe I just didn’t want to lose.
"Good."
A softer voice followed.
It was much more feminine.
It took a heartbeat to realize the truth.
That voice—
Was mine.
"I will kill him for you."
The words left my mouth smoothly, but they didn’t feel like mine.
And just like that—
The control over my body slipped away from .
User Comments
0 comments from readers