Book 2: Chapter 33: Victory

  Kate moved in first, not a single moment of hesitation in her body.

  She performed a forward dash, tight and coiled. Her rapier snapped into a thrust straight for Jael’s collarbone, quick as a flash of glass catching firelight. Jael twisted sideways, his dagger parrying the strike with a clink of impact. Before her wrist had even fully recoiled, his wodao came sweeping around, aiming for her ribs.

  She turned with it, letting the blade barely scrape past her plated hip, and stepped back with a sharp pivot to redirect the pressure. The crowd murmured from the first exchange, everyone on the edge of their seats..

  And then, steel danced.

  A flurry of movement surged between the two fighters. A fast paced trade of cuts and parries, thrusts and recoils, was negotiated within the first few seconds. The two fighters traced arcs through the ring like twin moons skimming close in orbit.

  Alex watched in rapt attention as sparks flared where their weapons kissed. The dust on the floor kicked up with each spin of their footwork, trailing behind them in wide crescents. Their blades moved like ink drawn quickly across fresh parchment. The lines should smooth, beautiful, and hauntingly dangerous in way that made his heart flutter excitedly.

  From the stands of the arena, Alex narrowed his eyes. “Her footwork’s sharper than last I saw her fight. She’s not over-committing her lunges anymore.”

  “She’s more grounded on her toes too,” Eric muttered, arms crossed, watching intently. “Looks more like a duelist than a dancer now.”

  Holly nodded once, her voice soft. “Look at the shift of her grip during the deflection. She’s learning how to redirect momentum more efficiently. And her angle control is… actually, it’s rather elegant.”

  Still, none of them smiled. Talent was one thing, control was another, but experience was the real master. And Kate simply hadn’t had enough of it.

  In the ring, she feinted to her left side, and then cut sharply right. Unfazed, Jael caught the motion with an arched parry and answered the attack with a high jab meant to test her headspace. She ducked low to avoid the blow and spun away. There was the tiniest small beats before Kate retaliated with a sword thrust toward his hip. The blade was sidestepped with eerie fluidity, as if he’d known her tempo and seen her strike before she’d even moved.

  Seconds bled off the match clock, each one was starkly punctuated with a flash of blade or a tightening of breath. Kate kept moving, testing angles, pressing shallow strikes to measure his patience. But Jael? He never chased, never rushed. He just waited, watched, and learned. Then the change came.

  It was only a subtle misstep. Barely even a stumble, just the wrong angle of her back foot as she tried to shift back to reset her defense line. Jael saw it, and he surged.

  His stance shifted near-instantly, like a breeze suddenly climbing into a hurricane-gale. He closed the distance before the heel of her foot finished touching the ground. With a tight flourish, he slipped under her guard, and lashed upward. His wodao struck hard into the plating above her abdomen, loud enough that the sound echoed across the stone like a gong.

  Kate gasped as the hit took her center of gravity. The strike had her stagger backward a couple steps before felling on her back in tumble.

  The crowd responded with a subdued chorus of respectful claps, mixed with and punctuated by a few murmurs that crawled about the stands around the ring. Jael stepped back without flourish, bowing once. His blades dipped low. The round was over.

  Alex’s fingers curled into fists and he watched Kate cough and sit up, a grimace flashing across her face. But her eyes, those didn’t look defeated from what he could see. They looked alive, they burned.

  “Round One,” the officiator declared. “Victory to Jael Korshan of the Azure Vault.”

  Alex clenched his jaw but said nothing. Allie, as their team’s chosen medic, was already walking to the edge of the ring down below, a tonic bottle uncorked and ready in hand. Lance looked down at the marble beneath their feet, fists tight.

  “A disappointing start, but she fought well,” Eric muttered.

  “Yes, she did,” Alex agreed. “But Jael hasn’t even begun to take her seriously yet.”

  “She’ll fix that next round,” Zach said calmly next to Eric. “She always does.”

  Kate accepted Allie’s hand, rising without complaint and drank the potion. Alex didn’t doubt it was a stamina potion, to bring her back to peak condition. She dusted herself off, eyes flicking across the crowd briefly, then locked eyes with Jael. He gave her a single, respectful nod.

  She didn’t return it. Not yet.

  The moderator appeared at the center of the arena once more, raised his hand again. “Second round; Martial Techniques permitted. Spells remain forbidden.” Then he dropped his hand.

  Just as before, Kate was already moving.

  A streak of motion blurred across the arena, a crack of force splitting the air as her foot launched off the stone. She was already activating a technique of her EmberGlass Tempest style, the [Scorching Line]. Her body flickered like a heat mirage, trailing embers across the ring in a jagged arc that blinked her across space with sudden, explosive precision.

  She appeared in front of Jael in a flash, blade poised and plunging forward. He caught her attack on his dagger again, but only just.

  Then Alex watched in awe as his body somehow curved backward, as if slipping off an invisible banana peel, his feet gliding across the marble floor in a motion that looked to be far too smooth to be natural. He parried her thrust with the back edge of his wodao, his dagger intercepting her follow-up with a shallow clang. His technique wasn’t flashy, but it didn’t need to be.

  Jael’s [Flowing Crest Form] was a style all about movement. It was water over oil, slippery, controlled, and deceptively slow until it was already past your guard.

  Kate snarled and broke away, only to blur again with another [Scorching Line], cutting a smoldering crimson arc as she re-positioned. This time she circled left. As she landed, her rapier flicked outward in a spiraling crescent, [Kindled Pulse] erupting from her off hand. The pressure wave of heat that accompanied her stroke buffeted Jael’s guard, making him stagger half a step.

  “She’s faster now,” Alex murmured from the stands, watching Kate disappear and reappear in bursts of heat. “And she’s not just pushing too hard. Jael’s just managing to slip away at the last moment each time..”

  “For now,” Holly said. “But look at her draw. She is using too much stamina, far too fast. She’s going to burn out if she keeps this pace.”

  “She knows that,” Peter said from behind them, arms crossed. “She wouldn’t fight like this unless she had a plan.”

  In the ring, the tempo built. Kate surged in again a thrust, flick, slash, then a pulse of flame. Fire trailed in her wake like glittering pixie dust. Jael met her each time, never quite pinned but never gaining ground either. His movements stayed minimal, efficient, flowing around her passionate rage instead of resisting it. He didn’t fight her head on. He was trying to let her wear herself out. And she was.

  Three more times she closed the gap, three more bursts of heat, of light, of raw fury. And each time, Jael slipped free. Then it seemed to happen once more.

  She blinked in too early, the timing just off. The snap of her footwork appeared to be a half-beat slow. The flame behind her sword flickered instead of roared and her speed dipped. Her strike came in wide.

  Jael saw it. His counter was precise, not fast, but devastating. He stepped into her guard like he’d done it a thousand times, blade poised low, rising up toward her exposed ribs. His eyes were calm and cold as he went in for the win.

  Alex watched as Kate’s expression flickered, pain, surprise, something like fury edged with doubt, and she did the unthinkable.

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  She retreated. It was the first time she had retreated in a defeat rather than a tactical reposition.

  Jael chased her, as she knew he would. But he shouldn’t have.

  All around the ring, the trails of her [Scorching Line] technique glowed faintly, barely visible in the sunlight. A trail of spent motion in her wake, of fire left to die, or so it seemed. Except now, the whole arena was covered in that flaming residue. The crossed, overlapping and intersecting in a woven geometry like a net.

  Kate spun, her blade sweeping in a slow arc with a flick of her wrist. Then the ember lines ignited, and the marble ring erupted into living fire.

  The trails of cinders became a lattice of flame, at first snapping upward like coiled whips, then crashing inward like converging stormfronts. Jael skidded to a stop, he tried to leap, but the pulses of flame came too fast, too wild. He couldn’t slip through them even with his fighting style. They came at him from in front, behind, a noose tightening for too fast to escape.

  He was caught.

  The aether burst hit him from all sides at once, a bloom of orange-white heat that scorched the ring’s center and sent his body crashing into the marble floor in a smoldering tumble.

  The crowd went silent. The heat died down. Ash curling upward in gentle spirals. Jael groaned, and tried to rise, then lay still.

  “Round Two,” the officiator called. “Victory; Kate Locke.”

  Kate lowered her blade. Her chest heaved as she breathed, her hair flickering with flames at the tips of the braids. Then she turned to the crowd, and bowed.

  Allie was there once more. Potions in hand, fire essence pill at the ready. Kate accepted them gladly, but maintained her poise throughout.

  It was a few minutes until the Azure Vault sect got Jael back up and ready to continue. By then, everyone was biting their nails waiting for the final round. With one win each, the third round would determine who claimed victory in the match.

  The officiator raised his hand one final time. “Final round; all techniques and spells permitted. Let the match commence.”

  His hand dropped.

  The silence that had settled over the arena shattered in an instant.

  Jael opened with two spoken words, and a flick of his fingers. A ripple of water burst from the marble beneath his boots, spiraling up into a Water Wall, a translucent, reinforced shell that moved like fluid glass around him in orbit.

  On her end, Kate didn’t wait. “Flame Blitz.”

  Her voice rang out like a smith’s hammer on a hot sword-blade. Flames detonated around her body in a circular pattern, wreathing her in flickering fire. In a surge of power and a crack of stone beneath her feet, she blurred forward. Her hair whipped behind her, haloed in an ember glow, her rapier burning bright in hand.

  The two collided, steel and heat against water and wind.

  Jael moved faster now, faster than before. His blade whipped outward in a series of [Wind Cutter] spells. Thin, near-invisible arcs slashed through the air with whip-like speed. Kate swerved between them, kicking up sparks and steam as her sword clashed against each razor-edged gust.

  One got through. It sliced across her thigh, shallow but jarring. Yet not enough to call the match. She skidded sideways, teeth gritting, blade flashing in a defensive spiral. She raised her hand. “Firebolt!”

  A compressed bolt of heat blasted from her palm, hammering Jael’s side. His [Water Wall] curved to catch it, steam hissing from the point of impact, but it was a distraction. Kate blinked forward behind it, sword flashing.

  Jael twisted in attempt to dodge, too late.

  Her blade slipped past the water veil, grazing his arm. He grunted and retaliated with a spinning counter, his wind-infused dagger cutting a gust across her chest. She stumbled back, only to release a [Firebolt], then she sent another, and another in rapid succession. Rapid pulses of heat hammered the arena with concussive force.

  “He’s faster,” Holly whispered, eyes wide. “But she’s not letting him have the time to think, let alone to breathe.”

  “Her spells are weaving into the tempo of her physical strikes,” Eric muttered. “And she’s using Firebolt as suppression fire tool, not an attempt to do damage.”

  “She’s fighting like a mage and a duelist,” Alex said, voice tense.

  Jael blurred into motion, his sword swinging low, dagger feinting high, then snapping a [Wind Lash] at her left side.

  Kate’s body moved as one flame-wreathed blur, sword deflecting one blow, her shoulder just barely catching the second. She moved with the hit, and spun low, dragging her burning rapier along the stone in a circle which kicked up flame and smoke in a blazing cyclone to masked her retreat.

  Jael pushed in after her. She was faltering, stamina waning He had the advantage now. He stepped through the smoke with intent to finish it.

  And once again, he fell into her trap.

  Kate, crouched low in the heart of the smoke and embers, a large, condensed [Firebolt] in the shape of a spear floated just above her left shoulder. It blazed a shimmering white heat which was only nearly contained with her will and the wreath of flame surrounding her from her [Flame Blitz]. With a grin and a wink, she fired the spell straight into the ground beneath him. The blast cracked the marble, erupting into a geyser of flame and shrapnel. Jael was launched up, off-balance and Kate was already moving.

  She surged up after him, [Flame Blitz] surging brighter, a comet streak of flames erupting behind her. Her sword punched upward, slicing through the last remnants of his [Water Wall].

  Jael’s eyes widened, he brought up his dagger, trying to deflect, but she wasn’t aiming for him.

  She twisted midair, and kicked him in the chest with all the force of her augmented weight, and the last bits of her [Flame Blitz] spell.

  The blow sent Jael flying backward and crashing into the ground in a roll. His sword skidded from his hand with a clatter over the marble tiles as he tumbled.

  The crackle of flames dissipated from Kate’s body as [Flame Blitz] finally died. Her body was shaking in the aftermath. And Alex could see that her breaths came in ragged gulps. But she was still on her feet, standing proud.

  Jael… was not.

  The officiator raised his voice. “Final round; victory to Kate Locke. Match complete. Winner: Worldstriders.”

  The crowd broke into scattered applause. Murmurs passed from noble to noble. Coin pouches exchanged hands, frowns and grins mixed about plenty One sect elder actually gave a slow, approving nod.

  Meanwhile Alex grinned wide from up in the stands and Peter let out a long, low whistle that cut through the cheer of the crowd.

  “She did it,” Zach said, pride plainly written in his voice.

  Kate turned slowly, raising her blade in salute. The fire in her hair was dimming now, her hands trembling, but she didn’t show it. She met Jael’s gaze across the arena as he sat upright. His body bruised and his eyes blinking rapidly to clear the stars he might see swinging about his head. It took a moment, but he finally focused enough to find her gaze. He gave her a nod. She nodded back.

  Victory was hers.

  The aether in the air still shimmered faintly from residual spells as Kate stepped down from the dueling platform, the last of her fire aether scorched into the marble like clawed brushstrokes across canvas. Her face was flushed, and though her steps were steady, there was a tremor in her breath. The team rushed in to meet her.

  Garret was the first to clap her on the shoulder. “I knew you had him the second you went firestorm ballerina on his ass.”

  He raised a hand up to her, trying once more for a high-five. Kate gave him a weak smirk and a shake of her head. “I think I’m going to throw up.”

  “I got a bag,” Allie offered helpfully, already digging through her satchel. “No shame in heat-induced nausea.”

  Zach moved beside Kate without a word, slipping one of her arms across his shoulder to help support her weight. He didn’t meet her eyes, but his posture was unusually gentle.

  “You didn’t miss a step,” he said lowly. “Good work.”

  Kate blinked at him in surprise, then smiled faintly, leaning on him just a bit. Probably all that her pride would allow.

  Alex stepped up beside them. “Two out of three,” he said, raising a fist. “You earned that.”

  Before she could reply, a familiar voice rang out:

  “Well struck, Lady Locke.” Master Halraen approached from the side of the arena, arms folded within the broad sleeves of his deep teal dueling robes. Behind him, several Azure Vault disciples murmured and nodded, clearly impressed.

  Alex watched as Kate straightened with effort, her expression settling into something he recognized as emotionally cool and diplomatic. “Thank you, Master Halraen. I hope the demonstration proved sufficient.”

  Halraen inclined his head. “You demonstrated strength, adaptability, and control. Not qualities I expected from someone known for politics over practice.” He glanced toward Alex and Eric. “Consider the Azure Vault Sect open to future cooperation, in the vote, and beyond.”

  Alex bowed slightly. “We’re grateful. We’ll prove the alliance worthwhile.”

  Halraen offered a short nod before departing, robes trailing behind him like waves of rippling water.

  Alex turned to the others. “We need to move. Still have people to talk with and votes to secure before sundown.”

  As the group began making their way toward the arena’s exit, Alex noticed Kate pause mid-step, her eyes catching something beyond the crowd.

  Following her gaze, he saw Lady Caerwyn, dressed in her House’s colors of moon-silver and frost blue, standing at the edge of the spectator ring. The noblewoman tilted her chin and gave a subtle nod, reserved, but unmistakably approving.

  Kate’s lips parted slightly, then pulled into a tight, breathless smile.

  That’s a lock, Alex thought. Caerwyn’s in. He filed it away, already calculating who was left on the fence.

  Ahead of him, Zach helped Kate navigate the outer stairs, still saying nothing, but Alex caught the faintest upward curve to Zach’s normally impassive face. For him, that was practically shouting. As they made their way through the long stone corridor out of the arena, Alex fell behind a step, his thoughts drifting.

  If it had been me in the ring, he wondered, could I have pulled that off without breaking Jael’s bones?

  “You think that guy was a challenge to you?”

  I think beating him without killing him would have been tough. Could I have done it with some reasonable certainty?

  The answer formed before the question finished: no.

  His fighting style wasn’t about finesse or flourish. He didn’t have footwork meant to dazzle. His swordplay wasn’t elegant, his strikes weren’t designed to score points in an exhibition match. His toolkit was lethal, efficient, built to kill.

  I might’ve won the fight, he admitted to himself. But I wouldn’t have walked away with allies watching, nodding in approval. I wouldn’t have won the real prize that Kate managed to snag.

  He frowned, hands clenching slightly at his sides. Realizations like that, finding parts of himself that he was lacking in. That… used to bother him. But now? Now he understood. He wasn’t a duelist. He wasn’t here to show style or grace. No, he was a soldier, shield, a storm, if need be. And he was on the right path.

  Alex exhaled slow through his nose and stepped back into stride beside Eric who still limped a bit behind the rest.

  “No more breaks,” he said. “We hit the next targets before sunset. Then we win this damn vote.”

  Eric gave a faint grin. “That’s the Pierce I know.”

  And together, they kept moving, the world watching their footsteps.