NOVEL NEXT Vol 2. Chapter 13: The Fight Begins!
The training yard was empty. The palace guards had closed off this entire wing. No spectators would bear witness to what was about to happen. No cheers, no gasps, no crowd to remember this fight.
On one side of the training yard stood Rosalia Elarion, Princess of Easthaven.
On the other, Celina, Divine Knight of the Kingdom—reduced now to her 11-year-old self, standing across the yard with her arms folded, waiting. The runes had been redrawn on Celina's skin, the ink fresh, the lines precise. The old man had truly outdone himself. The magic held steady this time, no flicker, no strain.
There was nothing else to consider, nothing else to delay the inevitable.
It was time.
Lukas adjusted Rosalia's stance with a tap to her ankle. She was nervous—he could feel the tremble in her shoulders, the tightness in her breathing. Of course she was nervous. How could she not be?
He placed a hand on her shoulder. His voice was steady when he spoke. "You got this, Princess."
Rosalia looked up at him. "You really think so?"
"I know so."
She swallowed, nodded.
Lukas's gaze drifted toward Celina, studying her. Even reverted to her younger body, Celina still had the edge over Rosalia in some ways. Celina was far from petite, even in her reverted state. She was taller—about a head taller than Rosalia—and her wingspan far exceeded Rosalia's. That reach could be a real problem if Rosalia wasn't careful.
But the tradeoff mattered.
Celina, at this age, was practically skin and bones. She hadn't built the muscle that had made her the monster she was today. They were roughly in the same weight class now, which meant Rosalia's speed and power could actually make a difference.
Rosalia could win this fight. But only if she played this right.
"You remember what I told you last night?" Lukas asked quietly, his hand still resting on her shoulder.
Rosalia hesitated, then smirked. "If I go down, I get back up."
Lukas tightened his grip on her shoulder briefly, then stepped back. "Go get 'er, little one."
Across the yard, Celina cracked her knuckles, shifting her stance. She looked calm. Maybe even a little amused. Lukas doubted she expected much from the young girl but that pride may very well end up being the Divine Knight's eventual downfall. Especially now that the two of them were on equal playing fields thanks to Magnus' Runes.
Rosalia took a breath, rolling her shoulders out. She shook the nerves from her hands.
The princess wasn't just fighting for herself today. She wanted to show Lukas how far his training had brought her. But a huge part of her also wanted to show her, Celina, what she was capable of. The Divine Knight had trained her since she was no older than seven. Rosalia still looked up to her. She wanted the Divine Knight herself know what she was truly made of.
The old man raised his hand.
"Begin."
The King's voice hadn't even faded before Rosalia was moving. There was no hesitation. No sizing each other up. No wasted steps. She sprinted across the training yard, closing the distance in an instant. She wasn't here to drag this out.
Rosalia wanted this done. Quickly. Decisively. The faster this fight ended, the better.
Celina's eyes sharpened, her instincts roaring to life. The princess was aiming low. She was trying to take her legs out from under her, some kind of wrestling tactic that Lukas must have taught her. It didn't take a genius to see that coming. Celina stepped back swiftly, her footwork still sharp despite the smaller, unfamiliar body. Her longer reach became a wall between them, her arms snapping out, palms pressing against Rosalia's shoulders to keep her at bay.
The moment the two fighters locked eyes with one another, Celina's instincts screamed at her: She's dangerous. That was the thought flashing through Celina's mind. Her gut feeling told her that if Rosalia somehow took her to the ground, the fight would be over.
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Even though the Princess was still a child, Celina could feel it—the ferocity radiating from Rosalia Elarion. The certainty in her movements. It was not a bluff. If Rosalia dragged her down to the dirt, she would not be getting back up. But as long as Celina could keep her on her feet, she could manage this fight.
Control the space, control the fight.
She shoved Rosalia back by her shoulders again, trying to use her reach to her advantage. But the second time around, the young challenger was quicker.
Celina had done exactly what Lukas had said she would. She would be using her length to prevent Rosalia from closing the distance between them. She'd fell for what she thought was Rosalia's attempts at a takedown, hook line and sinker.
One of Rosalia's arms lashed out, snapping up to grab the back of Celina's neck, locking onto her like a hook. The other hand gripped the arm that had just shoved her.
Celina's eyes went wide.
What the f—
Rosalia jumped. Her legs swung up, hooking over Celina's shoulder as her weight dragged down. The manoeuvre was awkward, aggressive, and unlike anything Celina had seen before.
It was a flying armbar!
The sudden torque wrenched Celina's balance, pulling her forward. Rosalia slammed onto her back, her grip tight as iron but still Celina fought against it. The Divine Knight's instincts saved her. She twisted away from Rosalia violently, yanking her arm free just in time before the lock could fully be secured. Celina stumbled back as Rosalia hopped to her feet yet she did not seem disappointed.
For a heartbeat, there was silence.
Magnus Elarion frowned, his arms crossing, unimpressed. The old Head Mage gave Lukas a look of disdain, as if to ask: This is what you've been teaching my granddaughter for the last year?
But Lukas only smiled. The smile was not one to save himself embarrassment. His grin was sharp. Cruel. Devious.
Because he saw what the old man didn't.
The pain in Celina's eyes as she shook out her arm. Lukas folded his arms, his grin widening with each passing second of the fight.
Rosalia had popped back to her feet in an instant, her stance ready, her breathing steady.
The distance between them had been too far. There was no way Rosalia could have actually landed that flying armbar from where she leapt. Not cleanly. Not with real control. But that had never been the point.
Every step, every movement—it was all intentional.
The princess who now faced the Divine Knight wasn't Lukas Drakos' disciple.
No.
Who stood before Celina was the student of Julien Fronterra. The man who had never tasted defeat in the ring. The man who only death could defeat. The man who had conquered two weight classes and reigned as champion for years. The man who'd fought like no one else.
This was how Julien Fronterra had won all the fights he took, even when all the odds were against him.
Study everything. Read your opponent like scripture. Every twitch. Every flaw. Every habit. Lukas had done just that, the Divine Knight as no exception. He remembered the night of her birthday, when the alcohol had loosened the Divine Knight's lips. When Celina had joked about pulling her lower back and how she was getting old. The cost of saving a thousand lives. A cost that she'd pay for dearly in this fight. And last night, during the testing of the runic magic, Rosalia's sharp eyes had caught it—the bandages. Wrapped tight around Celina's waist. She'd met Lukas' gaze and nodded.
That was the moment Lukas knew that she was ready for the fight.
That injury to Celina's lower back had not yet healed. It had persisted up till this very moment, this very fight.
It was a weakness.
At first, Rosalia had protested for she thought it to be dishonourable. But Julien Fronterra's philosophy had been mercilessly grounded in reality: Your opponent was more than willing to do the same. Choose to hold back and that would be a disservice to your enemies. If you did find the weakness, exploit it and end the fight by any means necessary.
The flying armbar was no mistake.
Rosalia hadn't been aiming for Celina's arm. She had been aiming to put all of her body weight—aggressively and suddenly—onto Celina's lower back. To shock the body. To overload the Divine Knight's weak point. Even if the grab was shallow, even if the technique wasn't perfect, all she needed was to throw off Celina's centre of gravity.
And that's exactly what she did.
It was basic physics—leverage and pressure. A seesaw with too much weight on one side. Lukas' gameplan for Rosalia was to destroy Celina's already injured lower back. As Celina shook out her arm and steadied her breath, she felt it—the ache in her lower back flaring sharply. That wasn't from the strain of the armbar. That was from the impact. The drop. The sudden load. The pain lingered, biting now with each small movement.
Lukas watched all of this unfold, the grin never leaving his face. He could already see it.
The first domino had fallen. The fight was not over just yet but Rosalia wasn't trying to just trying to win this fight.
She was here to dismantle Celina piece by piece. And if the Divine Knight hadn't realized it quite yet—she would soon.