From One Glance | childe x reader |

6

After 2 weeks had passed, the moment had finally arrived to prove yourself and seize that coveted bodyguard position. The task was clear: eliminate the prince and your mission would come to a close. After meticulously preparing your outfit for battle and honing your sword to a gleaming edge, you joined the ranks of other eager competitors. 

As you stood amidst the crowd, an air of anticipation hung thickly in the stadium. The messenger took the stage, offering words of encouragement that fell upon indifferent ears. "I wish you luck!" the messenger exclaimed, bowing before exiting the stage, leaving behind a chorus of enthusiastic cheers from the crowd.

But amidst the cheers, you couldn't help but feel a sense of contempt for the eager participants, all too willing to throw their lives away for the prince. (They could die or be injured until they couldn't stand up against their opponents, but killing your opponent isn't against the rule.) Pathetic, you thought to yourself as doubt began to gnaw at your resolve. Yet, you pushed aside your thoughts, focusing instead on the task at hand.

After a brief walk around the stadium to ease your nerves, you found yourself wiping sweat from your brow under the scorching sun. It was then that you noticed a familiar figure observing from on high, the unmistakable presence of Prince Tartaglia himself. With a resigned sigh, you returned to the waiting room, preparing yourself for the fight.

At last, your name was called, and you made your way to the center of the stadium, readying your sword. As the crowd chanted your name, you spotted familiar faces among them. "Over here!" A voice shouted.  Thoma, Ayaka, Yoimiya, and Kazuha, with Xiao offering a silent show of support from a distance.

Rounds after rounds you managed to fight in the pre-finals. The arena erupted with the thunderous sound of gunfire, signaling the commencement of the pre-final round. Your opponent wasted no time, charging towards you with a ferocity matched only by his brute strength. His sword sliced through the air with deadly precision, aimed straight for your vulnerable form.

Instinct kicked in, and you moved with lightning speed, narrowly evading the lethal strike. With a swift maneuver, you grabbed hold of his shoulders, using his momentum against him as you executed a flawless spin, landing gracefully on the ground behind him. Before he could react, your blade found its mark, slicing through his back with precision. A pained cry escaped his lips as he staggered and fell to the ground.

The crowd roared with approval as the guard declared you the victor of the match. Adrenaline coursing through your veins, you prepared yourself for the next challenge, eager to prove your mettle once more.

In the final round, your opponent stood before you, a towering figure with muscles bulging beneath his armor. But physical strength alone would not be enough to defeat you. With a cold gaze, you assessed his movements, searching for any weakness to exploit.

As he lunged forward, you anticipated his attack, but he was one step ahead, dodging your strike swiftly. Shocked you adapted, improvising on the spot. With precision timing, you hurled your sword towards him, the blade finding its mark in his shoulder with a sickening thud.

With a grimace of pain, he dropped to his knees, clutching the wound as blood oozed from the gaping wound. Seizing the opportunity, you closed the distance between you, delivering a devastating blow straight to his jaw with all the force you could muster.