Rosana POV
Smell of burnt grasses and cracked barks lingered in the air, as the
She admired the beauty in the destructive precision, before turning her attention to the swordswoman before her. Dressed in black robes and armed with a sword, a girl with a black ponytail and a pair of blue eyes stood relaxed, her gaze drifting aimlessly.
The Northern Heiress cackled, the voice dripping with humiliation. "How long is this charade going to last? Are you ever going to take this seriously?"
The swordswoman, Calina, frowned. They have been exchanging blow after blow against each other, the Heiress in particular conjuring and shattering her weapons against Calina's blade.
She glanced down at her blade. Worn out, dust-covered, with a crack at the tip. It is a sign that it will not hold much longer: a few more strikes perhaps, or just one more blow.
Her hand gripped another sword at her waist, hesitating before retracting.
"If you're not going to use that thing, I can conjure up something that can withstand your power, you know?"
Rosana sighed as she sank onto a stump, resting her cheek in the palm of her hand. Her bored eyes squinted at her opponent, a mix of pity and understanding swirling in the red, glowing pupils.
"I know that feeling." She murmured. "Once, I was nothing but a weak infant crawling on all fours. Couldn't hold even a toy correctly. And after much effort, even my own conjured weapons couldn't withstand my strengths."
Calina tilted her head in confusion. "With your connections, couldn't you have recruited a Blacksmith for a more durable weapon?"
The Northern Heiress rolled her eyes, her hand stretching out to conjure a 'knife'. "Why must I use others' weapons instead of my own? That way, any defeat will be 'because of the craftsman', but not 'because of me'."
"...I don't understand."
"Of course you don't." The Heiress's fingers were playing with her creation. "Every enemy that fell should belong to me, belong to my weapons, belong to my intelligence. I have to own my battles, both wins and defeats. That way, I can tell myself I'm not a fraud who relied on mere privileges or talents to get to where I am."
The Swordsman's eyes widened, before a cold indifference washed over her expression. "Sorry. To me, a battle just means cut or be cut."
"Simple-minded. How boring." The Heiress sneered, her fingers loosening as she tossed aside the 'sharp toy'.
Speaking of something that was not dull...
The Heiress's thought drifted before glancing over deeper in the forests. Even without much observation, she could sense the new 'batch of audiences' hiding behind the trees, after they were 'mistakenly led' to their suicide missions.
She cracked her neck, smirking. "So, fewer mad men and women were rushing at us now, huh?"
The Swordmaster's gaze swept over the 'hidden audiences' before shaking her head. "It would seem so."
"Then, how many have you 'killed'?"
"Didn't count."
"Ugh. I counted at least 41 for me." She yawned. "Someone is orchestrating a rebellion against us. Or maybe even
"...you talk a little too much."
"Oh, humour me, would you?" She glared at the Swordmaster. "I'm confident there's no one here who can threaten us. Or maybe...wait."
The Dragoness's nose tickled, picking up the scent of burnt wood from afar. "Did you smell something?"
The Swordmaster's brows rose as her
"Hm." The Swordsmaster scowled. "It would seem the one who schemed against us has made their moves."
The two arsonists were too uncontrolled, too uncaring of their safety, as if they didn't mind embracing the flames as well. The Swordmaster turned to the Dragoness, hoping to offer a truce in exchange for finding out the culprit.
While she didn't particularly care about the victory, her slight sense of justice would not allow others to take the manipulation of others' minds lightly.
"Miss Winterscourge. May I suggest a temporary alliance to"
But suddenly, her
Almost on instinct, her hand held up the blade to block her face. The arrow slammed against the cracked steel with a sharp clang. Calina's eyes widened. It won't hold-
Bam!
In a flash, right in front of the Heiress' startled eyes, the arrow slammed into the soil, kicking up a cloud of dust. When the smoke cleared, pixels flew into the air, indicating Calina's 'death' that happened in less than a second of her notice.
She quickly stood up, hand conjuring an axe before-
Crack!
An arrow, with much less force, pierced through her head. The Heiress grinned. She could sense the mass mana that cloaked the arrow, the precision to hit her square right between her eyes.
And she merely grasped and pulled out the arrow, her red eyes shimmering with a bloodshot excitement. The wound on her forehead slowly sewed itself, skin clasping together before revealing an unmarred beauty.
She glanced towards the hill, her draconic eyes sharpening her sight. A silver-armoured, humanoid eagle kept his ground, holding a great bow that spanned two feet tall. Beside him was a lone girl, with pink hair and golden eyes, curving as if examining a prey in a cage.
The Northern heiress's eyes widened in absolute excitement, shock even at the familiar face, at the passing stranger in one of the taverns she visited out of sheer boredom.
The Northern Heiress watched from below as Mel mouthed the words, each syllable sending a shudder of adrenaline down her spine.
Miss me much?
"...how arrogant."
A chuckle escaped the Northern Heiress's lips.
"Even death belongs to me. Yours would be no different."
And with that declaration, she dashed into the forest, readied for the final battle.