Chapter 104: A Brother’s Challenge [2]
Chapter 104: A Brother’s Challenge [2]
Seris continued her advance.
Her wooden sword swept toward Andras’s shoulder with enough force to make the air whistle.
Andras raised his blade and caught the strike.
Clack!
The impact drove his arm downward.
Before he could recover, Seris twisted her wrist and redirected the momentum into another slash aimed at his ribs.
Andras stepped aside.
The wooden blade passed close enough for him to feel the wind of its movement against his uniform.
He immediately retaliated.
Iron Fang.
His sword cut diagonally toward Seris’s shoulder.
Seris raised her blade and deflected it.
Clack!
The two swords separated.
Seris didn’t retreat.
She stepped forward and attacked again.
This time, however, the movement was different.
Andras recognized the foundation of the Black Thorn Sword Style, but the transition between forms was unfamiliar. Seris had altered the sequence, creating a variation of her own.
Her blade shifted halfway through the motion.
The change in angle forced Andras to adjust his guard at the last instant.
He blocked.
The impact traveled through his arms.
Before he could counter, Seris’s sword was already moving again.
Andras twisted his body and allowed the blade to pass.
He answered with a horizontal slash.
Seris ducked beneath it and swept her sword toward his waist.
Andras jumped backward.
The wooden blade passed beneath him.
His feet touched the ground.
Seris was already there.
Their swords collided again.
Clack!
Andras’s arms absorbed the impact as Seris pressed him backward.
She attacked from the left.
He parried.
She changed direction and struck from the right.
He redirected the blade.
She stepped inside his guard and drove the tip toward his chest.
Andras turned his torso.
The wooden sword passed beside him.
He countered with a thrust of his own.
Seris knocked it aside and continued forward.
The exchange became faster.
Neither fighter wasted movement.
Seris’s sword repeatedly forced Andras to react, while Andras relied on precise footwork to avoid being trapped against the edge of the platform.
The spectators grew quieter.
What had begun as a friendly sibling spar had already become something far more serious.
Seris suddenly changed her rhythm.
Her next slash came slower than the previous ones.
Andras read the movement and prepared to counter.
Then her wrist turned.
The attack accelerated from an unexpected angle.
Andras barely raised his sword in time.
Clack!
The force pushed him sideways.
Seris followed immediately.
Her sword swept toward his neck.
Andras lowered his body and let the wooden blade pass overhead.
He stepped forward and struck toward her ribs.
Seris blocked.
The two weapons locked.
For a brief moment, their eyes met across the crossed blades.
Then Seris broke the contact and attacked again.
Andras retreated.
One step.
Then another.
Seris refused to let him breathe.
Her self-created variation allowed her to link one movement into another without the predictable transitions of the original Black Thorn Sword Style.
Andras recognized the individual techniques.
But he didn’t know the sequence she had developed between them.
That difference mattered.
Seris’s sword came toward his shoulder.
Andras blocked.
She rotated her blade and attacked his side.
He shifted backward.
She changed direction again.
Andras caught the strike near the hilt and redirected it away.
Seris stepped forward.
Their swords crashed together.
Clack!
The impact echoed across the training ground.
Andras’s gaze sharpened.
He needed a way to break her rhythm.
Then a memory surfaced.
A training session with General Selene.
Selene had once explained the principle behind one of the techniques she had taught him.
"The purpose isn’t simply to trick your opponent."
"It’s to ensure that if your first attack is read or blocked..."
"Your body naturally flows into another angle without losing momentum."
Andras understood.
Flowing Transition.
He had spent countless hours practicing the technique against Selene.
At first, the movements had felt unnatural.
Later, they had become instinctive.
Now, looking at Seris’s relentless attacks, he finally saw the perfect opportunity to use it.
Seris attacked again.
Iron Fang.
Andras met her blade.
Clack!
But instead of retreating as she expected, he stepped forward.
His wrist rotated.
His sword slid along Seris’s blade, carrying his body past the initial clash.
Seris’s eyes widened slightly.
The movement was familiar.
Not because Andras had used it against her before.
She had seen it elsewhere.
During one of General Selene’s training sessions.
Flowing Transition.
Seris immediately adjusted her stance.
But Andras had already changed his angle.
His wooden sword swept toward her side.
Seris blocked.
Clack!
Andras didn’t stop.
His momentum carried him naturally into the next movement.
His sword turned.
His shoulder followed.
His feet shifted beneath him.
The blocked attack became another attack before Seris could fully reset her guard.
She redirected the blade.
Andras changed direction again.
A second strike followed.
Seris stepped backward and blocked.
Another angle.
Another attack.
She parried again.
The spectators began murmuring.
"He’s changing direction without stopping..."
"How is he doing that?"
"He’s not resetting his stance."
Seraphina’s eyes narrowed as she watched.
She understood what Andras was doing.
He wasn’t simply attacking repeatedly.
He was allowing each defensive contact to become the starting point of his next movement.
Seris understood it as well.
And that made the technique even more dangerous.
She had seen General Selene use something similar.
But Andras’s execution was surprisingly fluid.
There was no hesitation between his attacks.
Every movement connected to the next.
Seris attempted to break his rhythm.
She stepped inside his range and thrust toward his chest.
Andras shifted aside.
The wooden blade passed close to his shoulder.
He immediately countered.
Iron Fang.
Seris blocked.
Andras’s wrist turned.
Flowing Transition.
His sword slipped along hers and changed direction.
Seris’s eyes narrowed.
She stepped backward and raised her blade.
Clack!
She stopped the attack.
But Andras continued forward.
His feet moved with the momentum of his sword.
One attack flowed into another.
Seris blocked high.
Andras redirected low.
She lowered her blade.
He shifted around her guard.
She turned and intercepted the next strike.
The exchange became a rapid sequence of steel-like wooden impacts.
Clack! Clack! Clack!
Seris was being pushed backward.
For the first time since the beginning of the spar, she was no longer dictating the pace.
She tried to create distance.
Andras followed.
She attacked.
He slipped past the strike.
She countered again.
He redirected the blade and continued his movement.
Seris suddenly changed her footing.
Her wooden sword twisted toward his shoulder.
Her self-created variation.
Andras recognized the attack, but not the exact transition that followed it.
He raised his sword.
Clack!
Their weapons locked.
Seris immediately applied pressure.
Andras allowed himself to give ground for half a step.
Then his eyes sharpened.
This was the opening.
He relaxed his grip just enough for their blades to slide against one another.
His right foot pivoted.
His body turned with the movement.
Flowing Transition.
Seris immediately realized what he intended.
She tried to pull her sword back.
Too late.
Andras’s blade slipped away from the locked position and curved around her guard.
Seris twisted her body and raised her sword.
Clack!
She managed to intercept the strike.
But Andras was already moving.
His shoulder turned.
His foot crossed forward.
The momentum carried his sword into another angle.
Seris tried to follow.
Her stance was half a beat behind.
Andras’s wooden sword stopped against her shoulder.
Silence descended over the training platform.
Nobody moved.
The spectators stared at the two siblings.
Andras slowly lowered his sword.
"I win."
Seris looked at the wooden blade resting against her shoulder before lowering her own.
"I lost."
There was no bitterness in her voice.
Instead, something unexpected settled within her chest.
Relief.
She had fought seriously.
She had wanted to win.
But she hadn’t lost control.
That frightening sensation from their previous spar had never appeared.
She hadn’t felt that disturbing satisfaction she had experienced when she defeated her brother before.
She had fought.
She had lost.
And she was still herself.
Seris looked at Andras.
A faint smile touched her lips.
This time... I remained myself.
The tension she had carried since that previous battle finally began to loosen.
For the first time, she no longer feared another spar with her brother.
Mirelle suddenly approached, her expression filled with genuine disbelief.
"I can’t believe you defeated Seris."
She looked at Andras as though seeing him for the first time.
"You really are strong."
Andras turned toward her.
His face remained completely expressionless.
"Yes. I am strong."
His voice was equally flat, as though he were stating nothing more remarkable than the weather.
Mirelle blinked.
Andras then shifted his gaze toward Seris.
"But I would’ve lost if we had both used our talents and mana."
His expression didn’t change.
Neither did his voice.
Seris met his gaze.
Andras lowered his wooden sword completely.
"Sister."
Seris looked at him.
"Seraphina and I came here to explore the academy."
He glanced toward the surrounding training grounds.
"We wanted to see more of the campus, so we came here."
"Then we happened to find you."
His gaze shifted briefly toward the wooden sword in Seris’s hand.
"And ended up sparring."
Seris nodded.
"I see."
Andras glanced toward Seraphina before looking back at his sister.
"We’re still new here."
He paused.
"How about you come with us and show us around?"