The woman lowered her sword slightly, eyes still fixed on Tamemoto.
“Since this is a duel,” she said calmly, “I want it fair.”
She reached to her side, unbuckled a second blade — a shorter sword, balanced for quick strikes — and tossed it toward him hilt-first.
Tamemoto caught it awkwardly. The weapon was heavier than anything he had ever held. The grip felt strange in his small hands. He stared at the blade, heart hammering.
Tamemoto’s POV
This sword is too big… I can barely lift it properly.
But something else was happening inside him.
A warm current moved through his body — not forced, not painful like Gray’s aura always seemed to be.
It flowed naturally, like breathing.
Tamemoto felt it coat his hands first, then spread down his arms. His fingers tingled. The heavy sword suddenly felt a little lighter.
How…?
He didn’t understand it fully, but his body did.
Without thinking, the same warmth rushed to his legs and feet.
His stance shifted on its own — lower, more stable.
The ground felt firmer beneath him.
The woman raised her blade.
“Begin.”
Tamemoto moved.
He darted forward, using the experience from all those training sessions with Gauis.
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His first strike was a quick thrust.
The woman parried easily, but he was already circling, trying to find an opening.
Their blades clashed twice — metal ringing sharp in the market square.
For a few heartbeats, he actually held his own.
Then the woman changed.
Her aura surged.
It wasn’t like anything Tamemoto had felt before.
It was fast — impossibly fast.
skill from her family, sharp and precise like a hidden blade in the dark.
Tamemoto tried to block.
CLANG!
The impact was brutal.
His borrowed sword shattered in his hands.
A shallow slash opened across his chest.
“Gah—!” Tamemoto cried out, the pain sharp and burning.
Blood soaked his tunic instantly. His legs gave way.
He dropped to his knees, gasping, one hand pressed to the wound.
Back to Gray’s POV
Gray watched everything from the sideline, powerless.
His brother’s cry cut through him like a knife. He saw the blood, the broken sword, Tamemoto collapsing.
“Stop!” Gray shouted, voice raw and cracking.
The woman lowered her blade. She looked at Tamemoto with something close to respect.
“I am Elara Selwyn,” she said clearly, “aspiring squire of the Solvaris Empire, of the Selwyn knight family. You fought with honor, boy. It ends here.”
The noble behind her sneered.
But then he pulled something from his coat — a small, ornate book bound in dark leather.
The temperature dropped instantly. The air grew cold enough to sting Gray’s skin.
The noble opened the book. Blue light flared from the pages.
An ice lance formed in the air above Tamemoto — sharp, deadly, crackling with frost.
Gray moved without thinking.
He sprinted forward, heart pounding, arms burning from the earlier pain. The world narrowed to that single point — the ice lance descending toward his brother.
The noble’s voice rang out, cold and arrogant.
“This ends here, rats. Remember my name — Lirian el Calder, son of Baron Calder. I never want to see your faces here again. Scram!”
The ice lance shot downward.
Gray threw himself over Tamemoto.
The lance struck the ground inches from them, exploding into frost and shards. The cold burned like fire against Gray’s skin. He felt the impact in his bones, a deep, jarring pain that made his teeth clench.
“Aaaah—!” Gray cried out, voice hoarse as frost bit into his arms and side.
The noble and his group turned and left without another word.
Gray stayed on the ground, breathing hard, arms wrapped protectively around his brother. Blood from Tamemoto’s chest soaked into his own clothes.
His injured arm screamed with every movement, but he didn’t let go.
Tamemoto looked up at him, face pale, eyes wide with pain and fear.
“Gray… it hurts…”
Gray ground his teeth, feeling completely powerless.
The market square slowly returned to noise around them, but Gray barely heard it.
He just held his brother tighter.
