The Wandering Sword

Steady and hurried footsteps approached the open entrance of a room.

"Mother," Luciara called out loudly and cautiously as she crossed its threshold, "We need to..."

The young woman came to an abrupt halt.

"Hm?!"

Apart from the majestic marble sculpture, nearly completed, a toolbox beside it, and the sunlight bathing both from the stained glass ceiling, there were no signs of anything or anyone else within the room.

"Mother?" Luciara called again, puzzled, as she traversed it, inspecting every corner meticulously.

Menuha didn't respond. The fact that she wasn't there became evident as Luciara finished her exploration.

I don't get it... She told me she'd be spending the afternoon here! she thought, trying to calm herself and find a logical explanation for her mysterious disappearance. I would have noticed if she had left at any point, but I never heard a thing.

The corridor connecting to the room was only accessible from the mansion's main hall, where Luciara had been before deciding to look for her mother. That's why she was so certain of her last assumption, which only increased her concern.

Where could she have gone?... Did I get so lost in thought that she left, and I didn't even notice? she wondered. After all, she had been so engrossed that she hadn't paid much attention to her surroundings.

But even so... It's too strange for her to have done it so suddenly, and without even telling me, the last detail stuck in her mind. I'm going to ask the servants. Maybe one of them has seen her.

***

Hidden amidst the foliage of the deep forest, two contenders brandished their weapons, face to face, barely separated by a few paces. Without taking their eyes off each other, the wandering knight and the masked fencer prepared for their agreed-upon duel.

Both slightly inclined their weapons forward, a long metal staff and a rapier respectively, until their tips touched.

"So... You're not going to fight with your sword?" the fencer asked, curious as to why her opponent had chosen to challenge her with his secondary weapon.

"No," Mavros confirmed, "If I were to engage in combat with mine sword, I could slay thee. Thou lackest the safeguard that adorneth me. Furthermore, I harbor no ill will towards thee. Mine sole desire is to employ the force essential to best thee, and forsooth, mine staff doth prove the most fitting weapon. I bear no wish to harm the beautiful face that doth surely lie beneath yon mask."

The masked one raised an eyebrow lightly. "How 'chivalrous,'" she replied in a sardonic and sarcastic tone. "If you think I'm at a disadvantage because I'm without armor, you're sorely mistaken, and I'm going to prove it. Although it's not my goal to kill you either, don't count on me avoiding hurting you. Perhaps you'll soon reconsider wielding your sword."

"In sooth, we shall see. So far, all thou hast demonstrated to me is thy boasting. It doth linger in uncertainty whether I am correct and thou art but a prattler, " said the knight, mimicking the subtle and provocative spirit of her speech. His lips stretched into a confident and amused smile, relishing this elegant wordplay showdown.

"I never claim something I can't back up with actions. I'm sorry that reality won't meet your delusional expectations," the fencer said, tilting her sword a bit more against the staff. Her opponent's remark convinced her that they were wasting too much time on trivialities. "Enough talk. Let's begin!"

Mavros nodded, equally eager to begin the long-anticipated duel. Their eyes locked in a brief and intense moment of silence. Almost simultaneously, they raised and separated their weapons abruptly, emitting a metallic screech as they brushed against each other. With this act, they marked the beginning of the competition.

"Ah!"

Immediately, before he could even think about his next moves, Mavros was assaulted by a barrage of slashes and thrusts from his opponent.

Maskirio! He exclaimed inwardly as he was overwhelmed. Although he managed to intercept and parry them with his staff, he was putting in more effort than he had expected. The sound of metal clashing echoed through the forest like thunder in a storm. Her attacks are not only incredibly fast and agile but also quite strong, he evaluated. Slowly, the fencer closed the distance with him, forcing him to retreat. Her mastery of fencing is exceptional! Whoever she is, her rank and level within her House must be much higher than someone like Ser Janpelan!

With a powerful lunge, the fencer extended the tip of her sword toward his helm. Mavros sensed it coming and sidestepped to evade it. The masked woman regained her stance before the knight had a chance to counterattack and delivered a sideways strike towards his thighs, but he managed to dodge it with a short hop backward.

Separated by a couple of meters, both took the opportunity to rest and regain their energy. They both panted slightly without taking their eyes off each other and letting their guard down.

He has a very solid defense, I'll give him that, the fencer judged. Her own expectations of her opponent were being exceeded. But how long does he intend to keep this up?

Some of her attacks have a certain pattern, the knight analyzed. He had memorized her sequences of strikes as he blocked them. With the right moves, I can unbalance her and break her guard.

The fencer resumed her offensive, launching rapid and consecutive attacks as before. Amidst her combinations, Mavros recognized a thrust she was about to execute.

I've got you! It was the move he had been waiting for. He spun his staff to intercept her right arm as she extended it to strike with the tip of her sword.

You fell for it!

The move had been a trap.

Unable to do anything to defend himself, the knight watched as in a sudden feint, his opponent bent her arm and turned what seemed like a thrust into a diagonal slash aimed at his neck. Left unprotected as his staff spun in the wrong direction, the blade struck him directly in the trachea.

"Cough, cough!"

Mavros staggered back a few steps. The pieces of his helm prevented the cut from reaching his skin, but the force of the impact was enough to choke and daze him. After he stopped coughing and regained his senses, he held his breath. He found the tip of the rapier halted in front of his face.

However, instead of seizing this moment of vulnerability to finish him off, his opponent withdrew her weapon.

"Thank you very much. You're quite generous," she told him.

"Thank you very much?" The knight muttered, confused by this ironic gratitude.

"For giving me the victory," the masked one clarified. "If you wanted to surrender, you could have informed me beforehand and saved yourself all this trouble."

Mavros furrowed his brow. "Wait! What art thou talking about? When did I say I wanted to surrender?" he questioned, slightly annoyed by the words she had put in his mouth. "I'm not going to bestow upon thee the victory. We're not finished yet!"

The masked fencer fixed him with an equally sharp look.

"Then attack, damn it!" she protested, venting her frustration at his tedious behavior. "I challenged you to a duel, thinking you'd fight like a knight, but it seems I'm practicing with a squire. If you're only going to defend, you might as well give up already!"

"Oh, that's it," Mavros said, amused by her spontaneity. "Very well, if thou dost so desire, I shall presently assail thee. My intent was never to defend endlessly; rather, I did grant thee the indulgence of thy innate privilege to take the first step," he paused briefly as he adjusted his staff. "Thou art familiar with the adage, 'ladies first,' I presume?"

The lady's face wrinkled in mild irritation. If there was something that annoyed her, it was that kind of exaggerated condescension. She adjusted her guard, opening the palm of her left hand hidden behind her back, keeping it ready to use at just the right moment.

Mavros tightened his grip on the staff.

Here I come!

"Hm?!"

He vanished in a fleeting movement, lunging towards her. When she saw him again, he vertically swung the lower end of his staff towards her body.

Now!

Following its path precisely, the masked fencer played her ace to stop him.

But what the..? The metal clashed against electrical discharges that repelled it. Confused, the knight attempted to strike a couple more times, only to be pushed even farther backward this time. Breaking his guard, the fencer landed a few precise blows to his abdomen until he straightened himself up. Mavros distanced himself from her to evade her sword.

Enjoying a few seconds of calm, he took a moment to appreciate the reason for the failure of his attack.

I see now. She created a 'shield' with her electric nefesh in her left hand. It was the best way he could describe it. She held it in front of her body, with her sword at her right side, ready for any opportunity to strike with its tip or blade.

Why isn't he stunned? the warrior wondered with concealed bewilderment. The current was supposed to have easily traveled through his armor and staff, paralyzing him. But beyond the signs of pain from the slashes and thrusts she had delivered, he appeared unharmed.

This perplexity was seized upon by the knight to rethink his tactics.

It's a rather ingenious use of that type of nefesh. A perfect barrier against almost any weapon, he complimented her for her "shield" trick. He furrowed his brow in concentration. But I know a technique to neutralize it.

He moved his staff in fluid, smooth, and elegant strokes, as if he were writing letters in the air. The fencer was surprised to see a spectral, smoky amethyst light emanating from its tip.

What... What is he planning to do? she wondered, beginning to feel uneasy. What is that pure nefesh he's gathering?

Suddenly, he halted this surreal sequence, bringing nearly half of his staff just behind his right hip.

Path of the Twin Suns, hard style, ancestral technique: Wave of the Wrathful Palm .

In one swift motion followed by a powerful spin, he executed a diagonal sweep with his staff. It struck her shield, releasing an immense amount of energy from his amethyst nefesh at the moment of impact.

WHAT?!

Stunned, the fencer watched as the electric charges of her shield vanished like flames extinguished by a hurricane wind. Her body shook, and she stumbled back several steps, absorbing the remaining energy from the colossal blow her shield had failed to nullify. A residual shockwave ruffled her clothing and hair, nearly dislodging her mask.

How...? How does he know a technique like that?! Not only did he easily dispel my shield, but it felt like he struck my entire body from the inside! she pondered, intimidated for the first time. It seems I seriously underestimated him!

Exerting great effort, she managed to avoid falling and regain her balance. She breathed heavily, trying to regain her composure. Composure that the knight was not willing to allow her to regain, as he then launched another similar sweep.

I never thought I would have to use it against someone like him, but I have no other choice. Desperate, she took the necessary steps to defend against the blow with her sword, arching it in front of her head.

Mavros noticed how a clear and luminous halo emanated from her blade, azure like the iris of her eyes. Light flowed like threads of water along the edges of the sharp metal. Although he sensed imminent danger as soon as he saw this nefesh, different from the electric one she had shown him earlier, it was already too late to abort his attack.

Path of the Twin Suns, soft style, ancient technique: Reflection of the Fluid Mirror.

Instead of attempting to stop it, the fencer moved and tilted her sword so that the staff slid along its blade and the energy circulating on its edges.

HOW?!

In addition to feeling that his attack had been completely redirected, the wandering knight spun uncontrollably, unable to stop, dominated by a opposing force from his own weapon. His arms trembled from flesh to bone. The overload of his nerves involuntarily made him toss his staff upward, which landed in the branches of a nearby fir tree.

What... What the hell was that? the knight wondered, deeply shaken. He was still trying to regain control of his trembling and aching arms. The fear had shifted sides. It's... It's as if she returned all the energy I had gathered for that strike... If I had put a bit more force... His terror increased as he visualized how his arms would have snapped like old branches in that alternative scenario. It's just like the legendary 'soft style' of the Twin Suns. The sibling style of the 'hard' style so often mentioned in the 'Way', but unlike the former, it's never taught in the book... The sibling style that, according to its author, I can only learn in its land of origin! The style that, when merged with its sibling, results in the perfection of the Way! The reason I traveled here!

He opened his eyes wide, believing he had arrived at a new revelation.

Could she... Could she be the bridge to my 'master'?

His rival approached him, cornering him against the trunk of a tree, with the tip of her sword aimed at his neck.

"You fought well, but it's over," she sentenced coldly. "You've lost."

Mavros froze, trying to think about what he would do next.

There's nothing I desire more than to ask her about my 'master,' or even have her teach me something of the style, he thought, controlling his excitement. But if there's one thing I've realized, it's that she's proud. I won't get anything by kneeling and begging like a beggar. I have to win this duel to be in a worthy position to do so, he reasoned, feeling more determined than ever. Even though she disarmed me, I can still win!

"Now, answer," the fencer ordered. "Who are you? What is your Holy House?"

The knight remained silent. He cast a brief glance upward. A sly smile crept across his lips hidden by his helm's pieces.

"Did you forget our wager?" the masked one asked. She furrowed her brow, impatient and tense due to his suspicious silence and indifference. "Or do you not care about soiling your honor and intend to ignore it?"

Mavros turned his gaze back to her, focusing his eyes wide on a particular area.

"By the heavens above! It opened more!" He pointed to the cut on her jacket. "Now thou art laid bare!"

"Ah!" Alarmed and embarrassed by the warning, she lowered her gaze to check.

The knight chuckled silently. He had believed his deception.

Staff, come to me!

The staff shook the branches from where it had been resting before soaring through the air toward him. Sensing its proximity amidst the confusion, the masked fencer sidestepped to evade the projectile. The weapon reached the knight's hands without issue. Without wasting a second, he thrust it into the solar plexus of his still disoriented opponent.

"AGH!" She let out a muffled groan; the blow was precise and vigorous. It robbed her of breath as she was propelled into a cluster of bushes where she finally landed. Her body was hidden beneath the lush vegetation. Only her sword was visible, protruding among the lower branches.

Yes! It worked! Mavros celebrated the success of his cunning maneuver, gazing at the spot where his opponent had fallen.

However, as time passed, his euphoria turned into growing anxiety. The fencer didn't get up. Her sword remained sticking out of the bushes without changing its position in the slightest.

"H-hark…"

He walked slowly towards her, approaching to check her condition.

Why isn't she moving? Did I go too far with that attack... Did I…? His hair stood on end at the mere suggestion of that possibility. He would never forgive himself if it turned out to be true. Despite the terror that numbed his muscles, he forced himself to continue.

"Art thou...? Art thou well" he asked with difficulty once he stood in front of the undergrowth where she should be.

Upon closer examination, he noticed something unusual that had escaped him before. He bent down to examine the sword lying on the ground.

Just as he was about to reach out to it, something caught and immobilized him by his neck, causing him to release his staff. Despite his attempts to free himself, the suffocating pressure prevented it.

"Did you think you were the only one who knew how to use dirty tricks?"

Mavros felt a chill run down his spine as he heard that voice speak into his right ear. He had become a victim of the masked fencer's own deception, who had applied a firm hold to the back of his neck with both arms. She had stealthily slipped out of the bushes, intentionally leaving her sword behind to distract him.

"You've pleasantly surprised me," she said with incredible calmness. "I didn't expect a knight like you to have such tactical flexibility. Most take 'honor in combat' far too seriously and distort it into an insult to common sense. If you had struck a more vulnerable point than my abdomen, you would have been the victor. Your only mistake was holding back."

No... I can't do anything... For a woman... her strength is extraordinary.

Helpless, the knight's awareness grew hazy due to the lack of air. In this state, he was unable to concentrate to heat his armor or perform any other nefesh maneuver that could force her to release him. The summoning and manipulation of the nefesh depended largely on a person's breath and mental control. The grip of that Holy Warrior was even tighter than the one of the infamous Zujae nim rhabla.

"You have no escape now; acknowledge your defeat," the masked fencer declared. "I won't release you until you do it."

I was... so close, Mavros lamented, closing his eyes in resignation to his fate. At least I had the honor of falling in battle to such an outstanding warrior, to someone who has received the knowledge of my 'master.' Though she could kill me for it, she deserves to know me.

It seemed that everything had been decided, but suddenly, they were both dazzled by a bright light. They stopped struggling and turned their gaze towards it.

What is this…

...light?

The knight and the fencer wondered simultaneously, squinting their eyes as they tried to identify its source.

It has...

...a nefesh!

Both of them gasped as they realized it.

"A confrontation between Holy Warriors... How childish and unnecessary."

A higher authority had just arrived to rectify their reckless disorder.