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Chapter 140: Valeria Olarion (4)

"I'll see for myself," she declared, her tone laced with challenge.

Without any further warning, she reached for the sword at her side and drew it in one smooth, practiced motion. The blade gleamed in the light, and the sound of steel against the scabbard was sharp and clean, echoing through the quiet street. Her movements were controlled and precise—everything about her radiated the discipline and training of someone who had been wielding a sword since childhood.

I didn't reach for my weapon immediately, though my hand instinctively rested on its hilt. I watched her carefully, reading her stance. She was poised, ready, her eyes locked onto me like a predator waiting for the slightest movement from its prey.

I tilted my head slightly, still holding her gaze. "So," I asked, my voice calm, almost curious, "how exactly are you planning to see it for yourself? What are you going to do?"

Valeria's eyes narrowed, and her grip on her sword tightened. "Isn't that obvious?" she replied, her tone cold and direct. "I'll see with my own blade."

She shifted her stance slightly, her sword held in front of her with perfect control. "Words can be deceiving," she continued, her voice steady, "but a blade does not lie."

The moment she said that I couldn't help but let out a small, amused chuckle. There was something about her unshakable conviction that struck me. Maybe it was the fact that she believed in her sword with such purity, or perhaps it was because I had always appreciated that exact sentiment.

"You're right about that," I said, a smile spreading across my face as I began to unsheathe my estoc, the blade glinting in the light. "A blade never lies. Those who know how to communicate with it can say more in one duel than in a year of talking."

Valeria's expression softened just a fraction, enough to show that she acknowledged my words. "I'm glad we're on the same page, then," she said, her tone no less serious but with a flicker of respect beneath the surface.

The moment I held the estoc with the blade gleaming under the sun, I felt the thrill once again.

'I wonder how it will be.'

Facing someone competent. It had been a while.

******

As Valeria watched Lucavion unsheathe his estoc, something shifted in the air between them. It was subtle at first, a slight change in his posture, the way his hand wrapped around the hilt of his blade. But then his gaze—those once calm, almost playful eyes—hardened. The casual air that had surrounded him moments before evaporated, replaced by something far more dangerous, something primal.

Her breath hitched in her throat, her muscles tensing instinctively. She had faced plenty of warriors before, but the change in Lucavion's presence was unlike anything she had encountered. His smile remained, but it no longer carried the warmth of amusement. Now, it seemed… predatory.

'What… is this?' Valeria thought, her heart skipping a beat as a cold, creeping sensation crawled down her spine. He had seemed so relaxed, so easygoing just moments ago. Now, it felt as though a storm was gathering right in front of her, and she was standing in its path.

Her grip tightened around her sword, the weight of it suddenly feeling much heavier. This man—no, this warrior—was not the same person who had been teasing her earlier. His eyes, locked onto hers, radiated a fierce intensity that made her question everything she had assumed about him.

Lucavion raised his estoc, the blade gleaming dangerously in the sunlight. His movements were slow, deliberate, yet there was an unsettling fluidity to them, like a predator circling its prey. His gaze never wavered, piercing through her with an unnerving clarity.

For a moment, Valeria's mind raced, trying to reconcile the man before her with the carefree knight she had been so frustrated with earlier. How could he change so suddenly? The shift in his demeanor was so drastic, it left her momentarily off-balance.

Before she could fully process her thoughts, Lucavion took a step forward, his blade raised in perfect synchronization with his movements, and their eyes met. A chill ran down her spine, the intensity of his gaze locking her in place.

Valeria's heart pounded in her chest. This isn't normal. The aura he was emitting now felt oppressive, suffocating even. It was as if the playful smirk was a mask he had discarded, revealing something much darker beneath. Something far more dangerous.

Focus. She reprimanded herself, shaking off the creeping dread that had begun to cloud her thoughts. She couldn't afford to hesitate. Not now. Not in front of him.

But despite her attempts to steel herself, a small, undeniable voice whispered in the back of her mind: What kind of person is this man?

Lucavion's smile widened, but this time, it didn't reach his eyes. There was nothing lighthearted about it—only a predatory gleam. He raised his blade, the air between them crackling with anticipation.

"Ready?" he asked, his voice still calm but laced with an undercurrent of something far more sinister. His gaze bore into hers, a challenge—one she knew she had to meet.

'Tsk…..What the hell are you doing Valeria?'

She could not help but get angry at herself.

'You are a knight. Who are you afraid of?'

The words reverberated through her, steadying her resolve. She had faced countless opponents, honed her skills through years of rigorous training. Lucavion was no different. He couldn't be. She was the daughter of House Olarion, a knight with a legacy to uphold, and she wouldn't allow herself to be rattled by a mere shift in demeanor.

She straightened, her grip on her sword tightening as she locked eyes with Lucavion. The unsettling, predatory gleam in his gaze still lingered, but this time, it didn't shake her. She would face him head-on, just as she had always done.

"I'm ready," she declared, her voice firm and steady, cutting through the charged atmosphere.

There was no time to waste. No hesitation. Her instincts screamed at her to act now, and she followed them without a second thought.

–SWOOSH!

In an instant, Valeria surged forward, her body moving with the precision and speed of a seasoned warrior. She didn't wait for Lucavion to make the first move—this wasn't a fight she could afford to test the waters in.

The unsettling feeling he exuded was enough to drive her to strike with everything she had from the very start.

Valeria's strike was swift and precise, her blade cutting through the air with a deadly grace that only years of disciplined training could produce. The weight of her family's swordsmanship coursed through her veins as she channeled everything into that first blow—a strike that embodied her legacy, her honor, and her relentless pursuit of perfection.

But the moment her blade met Lucavion's, everything changed.

–CLANG!

The force of the collision reverberated through her arms, but it wasn't the impact that caught her off guard. It was the effortless way in which Lucavion deflected her strike. His estoc moved with an almost unnatural fluidity, a subtle shift in his wrist sending her attack veering off course as if it were a mere inconvenience.

Her eyes widened as she saw it—the black starlight coiling around his blade. Tiny pinpricks of light shimmered in the dark aura, like stars scattered across a night sky, and it pulsed with a power that sent a shiver through her.

'What is that...?' Valeria's mind raced, but there was no time to dwell on the question. Lucavion's counter came without warning.

With a flick of his wrist, his estoc swept toward her, its black starlight trailing behind it in a mesmerizing arc. Valeria barely managed to parry, the force of his attack far greater than she had anticipated. Her feet slid back, the ground scraping beneath her boots as she struggled to hold her stance.

–CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!

Their blades clashed again and again, each strike more ferocious than the last. Lucavion's movements were smooth and precise, his every motion calculated to dismantle her defenses. There was no hesitation, no wasted effort—just cold, unrelenting precision. All the while, the black starlight danced along his blade, casting eerie shadows across the ground.

Valeria gritted her teeth, trying to regain her footing, but it was as if she were fighting against a force of nature. Lucavion's presence was suffocating, his gaze never leaving hers, that predatory intensity growing with each passing second.

'How... how is he this strong?' she thought, her heart pounding in her chest. She had fought countless opponents before, but this—this was different. Every time she tried to push forward, to take advantage, Lucavion was already a step ahead, his blade meeting hers with terrifying precision.

Another strike came, and this time, Valeria could feel the weight of his intent behind it. She raised her sword to block, but the moment their blades met, she was forced back once more. Her arms trembled under the strain, and the weight of her family's sword suddenly felt like a burden.

–SWOOSH!

Lucavion didn't relent. His estoc moved with almost serpentine grace, weaving through the air as if it had a will of its own. Each swing brought the black starlight closer, its presence pressing down on her like the weight of the night itself.

'Damn it... focus,' Valeria scolded herself, shaking off the growing unease in her chest. She couldn't afford to falter now—not when she was facing such a dangerous opponent.

Her family's swordsmanship had never failed her before, and it wouldn't fail her now.

And at the same time, she had realized this point.

'I made a mistake…..He was indeed the person who had dealt with that Bandit Leader.'

Since there was no way any normal person could fight with her like this normally.

Chapter 141: Valeria Olarion (5)

'I made a mistake…..He was indeed the person who had dealt with that Bandit Leader.'

Valeria exhaled deeply, her sword lowering just a fraction as she took a moment to gather her breath. The intensity of the battle had worn at her resolve, but there was no denying it now—this man, Lucavion, was every bit the warrior people claimed him to be. Her violet eyes softened, and she let out a quiet sigh as she glanced at his face.

"I misjudged you," she admitted, her voice calmer now, no longer filled with the cold edge of earlier. "I apologize for my rudeness, for doubting your strength. I was… in a bad mood, and I took it out on you."

Lucavion's expression softened, the predatory gleam in his eyes fading as he relaxed his stance. He gave her a small, almost amused smile. "Don't worry about it. I don't mind."

Valeria's lips twitched into a faint smile of her own. "That's good to hear," she said, the tension in her body easing. But then her grip tightened around her sword once more, and a spark of excitement lit up her eyes. "But even so, I can't stop now."

Lucavion raised an eyebrow, his smile widening slightly in response to the shift in her tone.

"How could I?" Valeria continued, her voice carrying a hint of amusement. "After finding an opponent like you… how could I stop before seeing this duel through to the end?"

Lucavion chuckled softly at her words, his posture shifting as he took a step back. The black starlight that had coiled around his estoc began to dissipate, the aura of mana retreating. His eyes met Valeria's, and with a subtle nod, he seemed to signal something—an unspoken understanding that passed between them.

Valeria immediately understood. She mirrored his actions, pulling back her own mana until the only thing left between them was the weight of their swords and their skill alone.

Lucavion's smile deepened, and he raised his blade in a casual salute. "Speaking with blades… isn't that how it's done?"

Valeria's smile widened, a gleam of excitement in her eyes. "Yes," she replied, her voice filled with anticipation. "That's exactly how it's done."

With their mana withdrawn, the duel was no longer about raw power or magical enhancement. Now, it was purely about skill, precision, and the art of the sword.

The clash of steel rang out through the clearing, the sound sharp and resonant as Valeria's Zweihander met Lucavion's estoc with perfect precision. Valeria's strikes were steady, deliberate, and flawless—each movement a testament to years of rigorous training and unyielding discipline.

Her family's swordsmanship was deeply ingrained in her, a style that emphasized simplicity over flourish, but every strike carried the weight of her expertise.

The Olarion family's sword style was built on the principle of perfecting the basics. There was no need for complex, intricate maneuvers or fancy techniques.

Valeria's father had drilled it into her since she was a child: the most powerful swordsmanship came from mastering the fundamentals and executing them flawlessly. And she had done just that.

Valeria's muscles coiled, her Zweihander held steady as she lunged forward with a wide, sweeping strike aimed at Lucavion's left flank. The weight of her sword pulled with power, forcing her to rely on her core strength to maintain balance.

'He's fast.'

Lucavion's estoc flashed like a streak of silver, meeting her blade at a sharp angle just before the impact. The lightness of his weapon seemed no match for her Zweihander, but the way he deflected the strike—his blade angled just enough to guide the force away without absorbing it—was flawless.

'He's not blocking. He's guiding my strikes away.'

Valeria's thoughts raced as she adjusted her stance, her next move flowing instinctively. She twisted her wrists, bringing the blade down again with a high, arcing strike aimed at his shoulder. Her father's voice echoed in her mind: "Perfect the basics. Don't overcomplicate it."

But Lucavion was already in motion.

His feet barely touched the ground as he sidestepped the blow, his estoc moving with him in a sweeping curve that came dangerously close to her exposed side. Valeria pivoted on her heel, pulling back just in time to avoid the thrust. The air seemed to hum with the closeness of the near miss, and her heart pounded against her ribcage.

'He's not just deflecting. He's positioning himself for the kill.'

There was no bloodthirst in his expression, no raw killing intent radiating from him, yet Valeria could see it in the way his blade moved, in the sharp precision of every strike. His movements were controlled, deliberate, like a predator waiting for the right moment to strike.

Each time she attacked, he reacted not to overpower her but to let her expose herself, ready to end the duel with one decisive blow.

'He's using my own strength against me…'

She swung again, a diagonal cut from above, aiming for his collarbone. Lucavion's estoc darted up, the tip meeting her blade at a shallow angle, sliding off effortlessly. He stepped inside her guard, his sword's tip grazing past her forearm, a ghost of a touch, reminding her how easily he could have drawn blood.

Valeria's eyes widened, but she didn't hesitate. She rotated her grip, the Zweihander sweeping low this time, aimed at his legs, trying to trip him. But Lucavion danced away, light on his feet, his estoc sweeping in a graceful arc that redirected her blade upward.

'How is he reading me so well?'

Each time their swords met, it was as if he saw her intent before she even moved. Her powerful strikes, meant to overwhelm, were effortlessly deflected. There was no room for mistakes, and yet… she felt a thrill coursing through her veins.

'He's not using his full strength. He's playing with me.'

Her grip tightened, sweat beading along her brow as she shifted her stance again, her mind working to find a gap in his defenses. But Lucavion moved like a shadow, his estoc always just out of reach, always angled perfectly to parry or deflect her strikes. His movements had a deadly elegance, like his blade existed for no other purpose than to kill.

'It's not bloodlust… It's something else. He doesn't just fight—he kills with every strike.'

The thought sent a shiver down her spine, but it also ignited something inside her—a fire, a desire to push herself further. Her strikes came faster now, less measured, more desperate. She aimed at his chest, then his thigh, then his shoulder, trying to break through his impeccable defense.

But Lucavion didn't falter. His blade danced around hers, the tip of his estoc flashing like lightning as it intercepted her every move. And then, without warning, he struck.

The angle was sharp—he sidestepped her downward strike, his estoc slipping through the gap in her defenses, aimed directly for her throat. Valeria's breath caught as she twisted her body at the last second, the blade grazing her skin, close enough to feel the cold steel, but not deep enough to draw blood.

'That would have been the end.'

For a heartbeat, everything stilled. Valeria's violet eyes locked with his, and for the first time, she saw it clearly—the precise intent behind his every movement. His blade wasn't just a weapon; it was an extension of his will, designed to kill with efficiency and grace.

'I've fought warriors before, but never someone like him…'

Lucavion's expression remained calm, though there was something in his eyes now, a flicker of acknowledgment. He wasn't taking her lightly, but there was a part of him that held back, as if he was testing her limits rather than seeking to end the duel outright.

'I can't win like this. I need to change the pace.'

Valeria exhaled, her chest rising and falling as she caught her breath. She reset her stance, her sword held lower now, closer to her body. Her mind raced with new tactics, but there was no time to dwell on them. Lucavion advanced, his estoc gleaming in the light.

He came at her with a thrust, low and fast, aiming for her side. Valeria twisted her body, narrowly avoiding the strike, but before she could recover, his blade came again—a quick slash aimed at her wrist. She brought her Zweihander up in time, but the force of his strike knocked her back a step.

Lucavion pressed forward, his strikes relentless but precise, each one aimed with deadly intent. His estoc flicked out at angles that left her scrambling to keep up. A thrust aimed at her ribs, a cut aimed at her knee—each strike a calculated blow meant to disable or kill.

'He's too fast…'

But even as she thought that, something within her ignited. A stubborn resolve took root. She wasn't going to back down. She wasn't going to let him overwhelm her.

Valeria's breath came quicker as she parried another strike, her arms burning with the effort. She swung wide, forcing him to step back, and in that split second, she saw it—the opening.

She didn't hesitate. Valeria surged forward, her Zweihander coming down in a powerful overhead strike. Lucavion's estoc rose to meet it, the clash of steel ringing out through the clearing.

For a moment, their blades locked, both of them pushing against each other, testing their strength. Valeria's eyes narrowed, her grip tightening on the hilt of her sword as she pushed with all her might.

But Lucavion's expression remained calm, his body unyielding.

And then, with a sudden, graceful movement, he disengaged, his estoc slipping free and arcing around in a swift, deadly strike aimed at her exposed side.

Valeria barely had time to react. She twisted her body, her Zweihander coming up just in time to block the blow, but the force of it sent her stumbling back.

'He's… incredible.'

And that stumble back ended the fight, as the long blade of estoc reached her neck.

SCHLINK!

"It is over."

Chapter 142: Valeria Olarion (6)

Valeria froze as the cold edge of Lucavion's estoc hovered just inches from her neck. The sharp steel glinted in the fading light, its presence undeniable. Neither of them was out of breath; they hadn't used mana, and both had fought with the precision of seasoned warriors. Yet, despite her skill and her best efforts, it was clear—she had lost.

The chill of the blade lingered against her skin, a reminder of her defeat. She swallowed hard, her pride stinging as Lucavion's calm expression remained unchanged. With a measured motion, he withdrew his estoc, the blade sliding back into its sheath with a soft click. His smile deepened, but there was no smugness in it—only that same, unsettling calm.

Valeria, her face flushed with a mixture of frustration and acknowledgment, straightened. "It's over," she murmured, her voice tinged with reluctant acceptance. She knew she had been bested. Her blade may have been flawless in technique, but it had not been enough.

Lucavion offered no immediate response as he took a step back, his posture relaxed, though his smile hadn't faltered. Valeria's irritation bubbled up, her lips pressing into a thin line. The way he smiled—it grated on her nerves, even though she knew she had no one to blame but herself.

She couldn't help it. "What are you smiling about?" she demanded, her tone sharper than intended. Her pride had already taken a blow, and the fact that he seemed so… amused only made it worse. "What's so funny?"

Lucavion's smile softened, but his gaze remained steady as he met her eyes. "Nothing in particular," he replied with an easy shrug. "I just enjoy a good duel, that's all."

Valeria narrowed her eyes at him, still feeling the sting of her defeat. The way he said it, so casually, made it sound as if the duel had been nothing more than a passing amusement for him. It infuriated her, even though she knew deep down that her own misjudgment had led to this outcome.

"Oh. Really?"

She said while glaring at him.

"Yep."

He said with a smile. "Now. Did our duel satisfy you?"

Valeria's glare lingered for a moment longer, her pride warring with the undeniable reality of what had just transpired. She hated admitting it, but the truth was plain: she had been outmaneuvered at every turn. No matter how hard she pushed, Lucavion had met her with perfect precision, his every movement calculated to dismantle her attacks before she even had a chance to land them.

Her lips tightened into a thin line, and despite her irritation, she slowly nodded her head. "Yes," she muttered, her voice laced with reluctant acceptance. "It did."

The memory of how easily he had deflected her strikes gnawed at her. She had been so sure of her technique, so confident in her ability to overwhelm him with the weight of her family's swordsmanship. But Lucavion had moved with a deadly grace she had rarely seen before. There was no flourish in his style, no wasted movement—just pure, lethal efficiency.

As much as she hated to admit it, this man was talented with the sword. And even now, after the duel, she couldn't see a way she would win against him. Not in a pure swordfight, and certainly not if they fought with their full power. That black starlight mana of his… it was too strong, too otherworldly. It pulsed with an intensity that sent a shiver down her spine just thinking about it.

But beyond his strength, there was something else that bothered her. The way Lucavion fought—it wasn't just about skill or talent. His style, while graceful, carried a deadly intent that set him apart from the typical knights or warriors she had faced. His every swing was precise, sure, and above all, designed to kill. There was no hesitation, no holding back.

He didn't fight for honor, glory, or even victory. He fought to end lives.

It was that realization that gnawed at her, refusing to leave her mind. Who was this man, really?

She straightened slightly, her violet eyes studying him carefully. "Just who are you, really?" she asked, her voice quieter now but filled with curiosity. "The way you fight… it's not like any knight I've ever seen. You don't fight for sport. You fight to kill."

Lucavion's smile remained, but the faint shadow in his eyes hinted at something deeper—something he wasn't willing to share. Valeria's curiosity lingered, gnawing at her as she waited for him to elaborate. But instead, he took the conversation in a different direction, deflecting with a nonchalant shrug.

"Well," he said, the lightness returning to his voice, "I'm just a commoner, after all."

"Heeeeh… a commoner, huh?" Valeria raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. There was no way someone with his level of skill, with that black starlight aura, was just an ordinary commoner.

Lucavion chuckled softly, sensing her doubt. "That's right. Nothing more, nothing less." His tone was light, teasing, as if he enjoyed keeping her in the dark.

Before Valeria could press further, Lucavion tilted his head, his gaze flicking to her sword, then back to her stance. His eyes held a knowing glint, as if he had been reading her the entire time.

"But you," he said, his voice slipping into a playful, yet insightful tone, "every move you make—it's rigid but powerful, like it's been drilled into you thousands of times. There's precision, strength, but also a bit of restraint. Just like a noble should be."

Valeria's eyes widened slightly at his words. It wasn't just what he said—it was how he said it, with that infuriating smile still playing on his lips, as if he had deciphered her entire fighting style in mere moments. And the worst part? He wasn't wrong.

He took a step closer, his gaze dancing with amusement as he continued. "You fight with the discipline of someone born into it. Every swing of your sword, every step you take—it's practiced, honed, perfect on the surface. But," he paused, his smile widening, "it's also a bit predictable, don't you think?"

Valeria bristled at the comment, her pride stinging. "Predictable?" she echoed, her tone sharpening. "You're calling me predictable?"

Lucavion raised a hand, as if to calm the sudden edge in her voice. "Now, don't get me wrong," he said with a grin. "It's not a bad thing. You're strong. Very strong, actually. But…" He leaned in slightly, his eyes twinkling with that teasing light.

"There's a difference between fighting to showcase something and a real fight."

Valeria's eyes narrowed, her temper rising. "Enlighten me then," she said, her voice tinged with irritation. She crossed her arms, her posture rigid as she glared at Lucavion. "What exactly makes the difference between fighting to showcase and a 'real fight'?"

Lucavion's grin didn't waver. In fact, it only widened, as though he had been expecting her challenge. He leaned back slightly, his eyes still twinkling with that same teasing amusement. "Well, for one," he began casually, "you've never been in a life-and-death duel, have you?"

Valeria's brows shot up at the remark, her pride flaring up again. "Of course, I have," she replied sharply. "I'm a knight. I've fought in real battles—life and death was part of the job."

Lucavion chuckled softly, his expression unbothered by her irritation. "Really?" he asked, his tone light, but there was an underlying note of challenge. "Because it didn't feel like it."

The way he said it—the casual dismissal of her experiences—made Valeria's blood boil. Her grip tightened around the hilt of her sword as she took a step forward, her violet eyes flashing with anger. "You're saying I don't know what a real fight is?" she demanded.

Lucavion's grin remained, completely unfazed by her growing frustration. "I'm just saying," he replied with a shrug, "if you've really been in a life-and-death duel, you wouldn't fight the way you do. There's something different about how someone moves when everything's on the line."

Valeria's teeth clenched as his words sank in. The teasing, the casual dismissal of her skills—it was infuriating. She felt a fire building inside her, a need to prove herself. Without thinking, she stepped forward, her hand gripping her sword tighter. "Let's go again, then," she said, her voice heated. "I'll show you what a real fight is."

But before she could draw her blade, Lucavion raised a hand, stopping her in her tracks. "Sorry," he said, his tone light but firm, "that service is no longer available."

Valeria blinked, caught off guard by his response. "What?" she asked, her anger momentarily stalled by confusion.

Lucavion chuckled again, shaking his head. "We already had our duel," he said, casually tapping the hilt of his estoc. "Besides, I think I've had enough for one day."

Valeria scowled, her frustration bubbling to the surface again. "You're just saying that because you're afraid I'll beat you this time."

Lucavion's grin returned, more amused than ever. "Maybe," he said with a playful wink. "But I like to think I'm just being considerate. Wouldn't want to bruise your pride twice in one day."

Valeria's face flushed with anger, but before she could retort, Lucavion turned on his heel and started walking away, leaving her standing there with her fists clenched, a mix of anger and reluctant respect swirling inside her.

'Bastard. I am going to beat you next time.'

The humiliation she had suffered.

She was not going to forget that.