“You... cursed freak,” she grunted.
“I’m j-just getting started,” said Cessilia.
Naptunie felt a chill. This Cessilia was so different from everything she had seen before. She was cold, calculative, and focused on her opponent. No, those were the eyes of a predator focused on its prey. The Princess was now really looking like she was standing with all her might, towering over her opponent with the fierceness of a warrior. The fight was only just beginning, it seemed. Ashra too had adjusted her position to leave no openings. She had made a mistake once and didn’t want to risk it again. Her entire clan was watching like one body leaned forward with serious expressions on.
Ashra moved first again. This time, her movements were much faster, and her sword appeared above her head, ready to cut down her opponent, but before she could, Cessilia’s sword blocked her halfway. Ashra had both hands on her handle, while Cessilia used only one to keep her from slicing her head in two, which spoke volumes about the strength difference. The two women glared furiously at each other, and their blades loudly clashed again. Ashra was trying to break Cessi’s defense, but the Princess blocked her each time. Each movement was so fast, it was like they could read each other’s minds. The audience didn’t even dare to blink, as each movement was happening so quickly. Their blades would be pushing against one another for several seconds, trembling from the pressure on both sides and would suddenly clash again loudly without warning. The violence of the fight was impressive, yet it had some strange beauty to it. The two women were wearing incredibly elegant outfits that contrasted with the almost bestial way they went at each other. It would have seemed like choreography if they weren’t so clearly bent on hurting their opponent. Pearls of sweat had appeared on Ashra’s forehead, and Cessilia’s hairdo had come undone. Each time she moved and spun, her curls went flying around her like a furious flame. The contrast of the red and blue dresses was hypnotizing, but everything was happening way too fast.
Ashra hadn’t lied about her own fighting skills; anyone who had once wielded a weapon could tell this much. Her movements were precise, full of strength, and clearly determined to hurt her opponent. Facing her, Cessilia was leaving no room for mistakes; she seemed to be effortlessly deterring each attempt of Ashra’s blade to come near. Her dance was perfect and beautiful, but something about this Cessilia was scary. Naptunie felt like she was watching a different person. A cold-blooded daughter of the War God’s Favorite. When Ashra’s blood flew in the air again, a surprised gasp took the whole audience. Once again, Cessilia had gone for a light but painful injury, slicing her opponent’s hip. Ashra’s anger increased with her pain, and she began attacking again, but her injury was hindering her. Cessilia spun beautifully and found herself behind her right after. Her sword drew a perfect line in Ashra’s back, and a scream echoed in the arena.
“Cessi...” grunted Tessandra, frustrated.
Naptunie, who had been so focused on the fight, just now noticed how angsty Tessandra looked. The young woman was leaning forward, frowning and studying her cousin’s expression more than the fight itself.
“...Is everything alright?” muttered Naptunie.
“I hope so,” said Tessandra. “If Cessilia can remain calm...”
“She seems very calm, though? More than Lady Ashra, anyway...”
“Don’t be fooled. Just because she looks calm doesn’t mean she is. Cessilia still has the blood of a dragon... One of the reasons she hates fighting is because the bloodlust can get the better of her.”
“You mean she could make mistakes if she gets too excited?”
“No.” Tessa slowly shook her head. “It’s much worse than that... She could get into a hunting mode. She would toy with her opponent for a long while, like a dragon would with its prey, and make her agony as slow and painful as possible.”
“That’s... terrible.”
“Yes, and not what Cessilia wants at all. But she can’t help it. With what happened to her when she was younger, her own instincts are now mainly focusing on self-preservation. She is so focused on this fight, I bet she has forgotten pretty much everything else going on. Who she’s fighting, why, and who is around. For now, she still looks pretty much in control, but if Ashra doesn’t concede defeat soon, that idiot is heading toward a very slow and painful death.”
“We can’t allow that,” muttered Naptunie. “Lady Cessilia would hate such a thing! Even if she doesn’t like the Yekara Clan, she wouldn’t like someone to endure such terrible torture!”
“I know, Nana. That’s why I’m watching carefully, but I doubt we can simply convince Ashra and her stubborn clan to simply give up. That idiot is about as fierce as one can be. She’s good, but at this rate, she’s just going to push Cessilia past what she can actually handle...”
Naptunie looked down at the fight again, with a very different view this time. This no longer felt like a fight between equals, and perhaps it never had been. Now, it was like they were watching a tragedy unfold. Lady Cessilia’s green eyes did seem colder than ever, unlike what Naptunie had seen before. Meanwhile, Ashra was focused on the fight, and as Tessandra had said, completely unwilling to give in. Plus, her whole clan was behind her. The Yekara people weren’t losing one second of the fight, looking so focused yet so blind as to what their candidate was really going through. Some were shouting to support her or scold her for the smallest mistake. They wouldn’t allow Ashra to lose, let alone give up. Their candidate knew there was no option other than winning, and she was fighting for this. She had abandoned her plan to slowly injure Cessilia, and she was now fighting to kill her for real.
“...What can we do?” asked Nana. “Should we intervene before it’s too late?”
“I think it’s already too late,” muttered Tessandra. “It was too late the moment that stupid bitch decided to pick a fight with Cessi, Nana. Cessilia would have been able to hold back if Ashra hadn’t really aimed to hurt her. But this crazy bitch will not back down, and she isn’t even admitting she’s going to lose. If we stop the fight now, the Yekara will accuse us of trying to save Cessilia, regardless of how much she’s been winning over her opponent.”
“...They are ready to sacrifice their candidate,” said Sabael. “Look at them, Nana. She’s bleeding a ton and not a single one of them looks sorry for her or worried. It’s their so-called clan pride speaking. The Yekara will never concede defeat against a foreigner.”
“Then... what do we do? I know that Ashra isn’t really on our side, but I don’t want Lady Cessilia to suffer because of her clan either. Isn’t there anything we can do?”
Tessandra glanced back at the King. Ashen’s expression was indecipherable, but all this time, he hadn’t said a word, his expression focused on Cessilia and Cessilia alone. Although she didn’t know this man well and didn’t like him much either, Tessa knew he was at least reliable in terms of strength. The White King wasn’t of dragon blood, but if he had been trained by the War God himself, he ought to be worth something decent, at the very least. Tessandra thought this highly of him because he was the only man the legendary War God had trained himself that wasn’t his own son.
“...She’s got us,” finally said Tessandra. “Cessilia wouldn’t have gone through with it if she didn’t know there wasn’t a chance she could be stopped.”
Naptunie confidently nodded. She was feeling even prouder knowing that Cessilia was relying on them, even if it wasn’t her in particular. Now, she could refocus on the fight with a bit of a lighter heart and felt even more determined to witness Lady Cessilia’s victory.
Despite what was at stake, this ought to be one of the most epic one-on-one fights they would ever witness. Even some of the Yekara people had forgotten to shout and support their candidate, focusing on the fight. The level of the two young women was among the very best, far above most men in this room that carried a sword. Cessilia’s movements were like a river, smooth, unpredictable, and wild. Her whole body was enhancing the beauty of each of her movements as if it was a dance centered around her weapon and its victim. She was unstoppable like the sea while Ashra moved like a furious flame trying to survive. The fight was both astonishingly beautiful, and yet so violent. More and more blood was starting to flow; Ashra now had cuts on all sides, her dress gradually turning into a darker red. No matter how much they loathed that woman and her family, even Tessandra had grown some respect for her as a fighter. However, the difference in strength was only growing more and more obvious with each wound. Cessilia’s blue dress was still pristine, while the ground beneath their feet had turned red.
Suddenly, though, something different happened. While she had just inflicted another wound on her opponent, Cessilia grimaced without visible reason. Tessandra jumped on her feet, feeling something was wrong. Ashra was faster to react. While the Princess was destabilized for a second, her sword dashed forward. A new red line appeared. However, this one was on Cessilia’s throat.
The Yekara Clan shouted like one man, but they missed the change in Cessilia’s eyes. Her irises narrowed, suddenly looking almost reptilian.
“Shit!” muttered Tessandra.
It was too late. Cessilia’s sword sliced the air with unprecedented violence, and this time, a large stream of blood flew upwards. Ashra stumbled backward, her shoulder mutilated by an extensive gash, blood pouring out of the wound. This time, she retreated, her survival instincts taking over everything else. Cessilia didn’t give her that opportunity. The Princess rushed forward, her blade ready to strike again. This time, the silver blade was dripping with blood. Ashra’s desperate attempt to flee was pointless; all of her previous injuries were slowing her down. Half of the audience was shocked by the sudden turn of the fight, yet mesmerized by the tragic scene. Some of the Yekara Clan were still shouting after their candidate for her not to flee, but Ashra had no way to win or escape this time. Cessilia was coming for her, covered in her blood, her eyes so calm and icy, it was scary. She looked like a goddess of war; come to earth to execute some ineluctable fate.
“Cessi!” Tessandra shouted, running down the stairs.
“If the other girl meddles, she will lose!” shouted the Yekara Clan leader, almost happy to see Tessandra rushing to his own niece’s help. “She is forfeiting!”
It was like half their clan was blind to Ashra’s inevitable end. All that mattered was seeing Cessilia lose, one way or another. The tragedy just had to turn in their favor, the sacrifice didn’t matter.
Cessilia finally reached her opponent and raised her sword, ready to strike again. Her gaze was full of something deep and painful. She looked fierce, but if one could see past that, there were actual tears in her eyes. She was trapped in the agony of a memory she couldn’t escape. Her throat was in pain, her heart was bleeding, and it was hard to breathe. Blood everywhere, and the agony of something, someone she had lost long ago. The sensation of that hot liquid running down her neck was just too familiar. She needed to get out of there. Eliminate those who wanted to kill her. She wouldn’t succumb a second time to weakness. She had to get out, at any cost. She had to kill them.
She lifted her sword, ready to strike. This time, she’d get out of there in time. She wouldn’t lose her voice or her dragon. She was stronger than those who hurt her. She could kill them. She’d killed before, she could do it again. She was strong, strong like a dragon. She could kill. This was nothing...
She swung her sword. A perfect move for a kill.
“Cessilia.”
The sound of two metals clashing woke her up. She raised her head to face Ashen standing before her. He was like a wall, his broad torso blocking all of her sight.
“Cessilia,” he called her again.
She blinked twice as if she had just woken up. Cessilia was out of breath, and two strands of her curls were falling on her face, but as she looked up at him, he could tell his Princess was back. She was just realizing where she was, what had happened. There was a deafening silence in the cave. All they could hear was the faraway sounds of water, the erratic breathing of the fighters, and Ashra’s grunts of pain.
