When Last Night Didn't End

12.5

Sparks of magic colored the sky like fireworks as those who could handle aerial battle took to the heavens to deal with the swarm of kurkurye. The numbers had dwindled since the battle started, but the numbers were still at a level where it's overwhelming. There could only be that many adventurers dealing with them.

In short, I needed to hurry. And I didn't like the idea of leaving Rin by himself for too long. Sooner or later, he'd find himself encrusted in some other life-threatening situation. That's just how he was—he always thought it's better to throw himself to the wolves just to save the people he wanted to. He thought it's what made him cool, but really, I hated that tendency of his. What would happen to me, his family, and any one who cared for him if he's gone? It's like that thought didn't even cross his mind.

Not even once.

"Fancy to see you here, Seline," a silky voice emerged from the shadows of the eastern spire. Arzo's footsteps matched his languid expression as he stopped a few meters from where I stood. He inclined his head to one side. "Why have you and your friends decided to grace my humble abode with your presence?"

"This has to stop, one way or another," I drew my sword and crouched, getting into a stance. "Right?"

Arzo chuckled, not bothering to even brush a finger against the sword sheathed by his side. "That's an interesting way to put it," he said. "Afraid you won't win this round?"

I spat into the ground, giving him my most aggravating grins. "I'm always open for a rematch," I said. "I know all of your tricks now."

A blur of teal and white lashed towards me. I swung my sword to parry. Metal clashed against its kind. Unlike the last time, Arzo wasn't trying to worm his control into my system. Instead, he danced against my slashes, returning blows here and there when he could. In terms of blade skills. One misstep and he would win. If he made a mistake, I would.

It's just a matter of seeing who's faster and sharper.

The explosions and the varied kinds of screams ringing from the battlefield beyond the castle told me enough. I didn't have time to think about how to defeat him in a fair match. This needed to be finished. As quickly as possible.

I descended into myself and let Arzo take the first blow. I used his momentum against him and drove my fist into his jaw. He stumbled, catching his flaring cheek. I lunged, slashed my sword. Again and again. Ink lashed against the brightness of the sky. Our shadows tangled and separated. Don't give him the time to recover. That has always been my technique. Overwhelm and conquer.

Arzo blocked most of my blows, reduced to backing away to catch his balance every time. I cried as I drove my blade down, slamming the tip against his arm. It should have pierced flesh, but he had jerked it out of the way at the last minute, catching me against his blade, instead. A dissonant clang rang in the whole courtyard.

I pivoted on my ankle, about to throw another huge slash. Pain flared on my side, digging deep into my gut. A knee. The leg it belonged to straightened, sending a boot tip at the small of my back. I toppled forward, straight into the trajectory of his blade's swing. Shit.

"Meld!" I screamed, my hands taking in the blade before its tip pierced through my skull. More pain danced in my palms as the sharp edges bit through skin in order to stop my motion. The spell only took effect then, wrapping around the metal, morphing it into something harmless, like a wooden stick.

But that also meant Arzo now had access to that specific spell. The talisman worked only on unprompted stealing. Once I cast it, the talisman could do little to stop it from being stolen. I wrung my hands, all bloody and hot, as I kicked the wooden stick out of his hands. It clattered to the floor with a characteristic thunk.