The first move was definitely hers. She charged forward, her twisted energy flooding the arena like a massive wave. The crowd gasped as Eamon rolled out of the way just in time to dodge most of it.
I stayed put, mentally counting as the fight broke out.
Eamon pretended to attack, his hand sparking with tiny flames. The knight's gaze shifted towards him for just a moment—good. Let her think you're too eager, I thought to myself. That'll play into our hands.
Marcus, sticking to my plan, summoned stone spikes right under her feet, making her trip a little. She almost lost her balance but managed to recover—at least for now.
Perfect.
"She's watching for patterns," Marcus warned, his voice strained as he fought to control the corrupted energy pressing against him.
"She'll be taken down before she figures it out," I said quietly. Sara shot me a worried look, but we both focused back on the knight as the real action started.
Eamon feigned again, and this time, the knight lunged to pin him. That's the same time Marcus made his move. The ground twisted beneath her, shifting so violently that she lost her footing.
She stumbled, but not quite enough, not what I wanted.
"Light!" I commanded.
Sara unleashed her magic, bright and accurate.
The knight raised her arms to shield her eyes, growling in frustration. Unable to see, she swung her sword wildly, missing us altogether.
This was the chance I'd been waiting for.
I reached for my throwing knife, pulling it from my belt in one smooth motion. It was a deliberate miss, targeting not her directly but blocking her escape.
She dodged, just like I anticipated—but I'd calculated the terrain perfectly. Her foot landed on one of Marcus's jagged spikes,
Stop fighting like a coward, you bastards, she hissed as her ankle twisted awkwardly.
It wasn't enough to take her out. Arthur wouldn't have left it at that, and I wouldn't either.
"Sara," I said, keeping my voice calm despite my racing heart. "Make a distraction. Now."
She shot off another burst of light. This time, I launched myself forward. The knight was dazed and her movements were erratic, but she was still a serious threat.
Until Marcus swept her legs out from under her, sending her crashing down.
I had my sword ready. The weight of it felt light compared to what was about to happen.
By the time she hit the ground, my blade was at her throat, pressing dangerously against her corrupted crystal.
The room was dead silent—I could even hear her shaky breaths under the blade.
"I'd think carefully about your next move," I said coolly, leaning in so she could feel my breath on her face. I lowered my voice to mimic Arthur's harsh tone. "Because if I so much as move, that crystal shatters. And then you'll never wield anything again."
She halted in her tracks.
"Do you give up?" I asked her.
Her lip twitched in annoyance, but after a moment of tense silence, she nodded. The crowd went wild.
Everyone around us began to murmur and share their admiration. Even the masters, who typically kept their emotions in check, exchanged glances that showed both respect and something sharper—maybe curiosity or suspicion.
Sara walked up to me with a nervous smile, her eyes sparkling with genuine praise. "That was incredible…" she said softly, clearly hesitant to say much more in the charged atmosphere.
Marcus gave me a friendly pat on the shoulder, grinning with relief. "You did well." His belief in me—or maybe in the shadow of Arthur—was oddly comforting.
But Eamon's gaze stayed locked on me. His eyes were intense—more intense than before—like he was dissecting every twitch, every breath, looking for any sign of weakness behind my polished front.
He finally spoke, his words clipped. "Impressive. But I can't shake the feeling that something's... off." His tone felt less like an accusation and more like a subtle warning.
I forced myself to hold his gaze. "Winning was the goal," I replied flatly. "Strategy over strength today."
He didn't say anything back, but his lingering look was loaded with doubt.
Even the female knight I'd bested shot me a look of fury as she walked past. "Next round. We'll see if you're just a façade," she threw over her shoulder.
I chose not to respond. Instead, I felt fatigue settle deep in my bones for the first time.
Once I was alone in the quiet of what used to be our shared quarters, the happiness vanished in an instant.
I slumped against the wall, my sword stiill by my side. The silence felt heavy.
Arthur's crystal pulsed gently against my throat—a constant reminder that I carried not just his name tonight, but a legacy built on fear and respect.
I thought about how effortlessly he would have controlled this fight, his threats like poison—subtle, deadly, and impossible to ignore.
"Make them regret getting too close." His voice echoed in my mind, sending a chill down my spine.