Fudge Esq
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V2 Chapter 62: Queen v. Excalibur
🕑 Added 2024-12-27 00:57:49 +0000 UTCMy first opponent was a man of average height, with a scar running ear to ear across the bridge of his nose, as though someone had nearly succeeded in splitting his head in two. His hands clenched short war axes, blades etched with runic symbols I didn’t recognize, glowing faintly under the sun.
He idly spun the axes, shifting his weight to one side with casual indifference as his gaze swept over me.
“You should’ve sent a proxy,” he said, scratching under his neck with a deliberate slowness.
I shrugged. Nida and Brianna’s suggestion to wear a mask and adopt the alias "Queen" had its allure—it wasn’t something I’d tried before. But Nasq’s predicament had forced my hand, leaving no time for any theatrics.
That, and I couldn’t be bothered to leave and return just to put on a mask. It was my enemies who should not dare to show their faces in my presence, not the other way around.
“You will submit all the same,” I said, unsheathing my enchanted blade with a flourish.
The man—what was his name… Arthur, maybe…—chuckled darkly. “By the Gods, girl. You’ve got nerve, I’ll give you that.” He gestured with one axe toward where I’d confronted the northern Duke earlier. “Do you even realize he could’ve gutted you like a fish if he wanted to?”
I frowned, incredulous. What fight had he been watching?
“Then perhaps after this fight, I should grant him the opportunity to redeem his lost honor,” I sneered, my voice amplified by the continuous broadcast. Hopefully, it would work to further rile Duke Granger. The more distracted the nobles were when my army arrived, the better.
“If you can still stand,” probably-Arthur retorted, unleashing a powerful wave of energy. It might have staggered a typical silver-realm fighter, but my Authority enveloped me in a protective shield, causing the energy to stream harmlessly around me.
“Round 1,” Jarold proclaimed, his voice booming across the colosseum, “features Lilliana ‘Queen’ Silverwater squaring off against Arthur ‘Excalibur’ Gribbain, proxy knight to none other than Princess Isla, on the north stage! Hmm… one moment…” His voice abruptly cut out amid muffled noise. Moments later, it returned. “Apologies, folks! Just confirming a few details. Let me tell you, witnessing Lady Silverwater’s battles in Sealrite was an unforgettable experience! On the west stage, Edith of White North takes on Matthias ‘Dominator’ Brown. The southern stage will host Elyndor’s Alaric of the Storm, representing Young Lord Darrow Alistar, taking on the Eastern Mountain's Monster. Finally, the Hidden Sage faces Nida the Paragon, who hopefully has recovered from her earlier tier battles. As always, I’ll be here to highlight the action for you!”
I craned my neck, attempting to spot Nida’s opponent, but newly erected stone dividers blocked the view, effectively separating the stages and deterring interference between matches.
“Start!” Jarold shouted, his voice crackling like lightning, reverberating through the stadium and setting the audience roaring in anticipation.
Arthur “Excalibur” Gribbain wasted no time. The instant Jarold signaled the match’s start, he launched himself forward, his war axes twirling menacingly, catching glints of sunlight.
My heart core thrummed eagerly at the challenge as I charged to meet him at the center of the stage. Our weapons clashed in a burst of sparks, separating and colliding repeatedly in a flurry of movement. Arthur’s confident gaze shifted to one of surprise as I took control of the fight’s rhythm, seamlessly shifting between various fighting styles. He tried to mirror my adaptability, but it quickly became clear he lacked the mastery needed to properly mask his central fighting style with others. His pattern would be incredibly obvious to any trained watcher.
Arthur alternated between three distinct combat styles, though he heavily favored a brute-force approach that relied on his war axes and sheer power.
Blow after blow, his attacks came dangerously close, missing by mere hairbreadths as I wove through his strikes. Frustration etched across his face as his axes found nothing but air. When he transitioned to his second style— one focused on speed—I had already understood its patterns and easily adjusted my movements to counter his efforts.
Still, I refrained from launching an offensive, choosing instead to block and evade. Whenever I made a particularly smooth dodge and slipped into one of his blind spots, I delivered a taunting pat to the side of his head with the flat of my sword.
“You are quite cruel, girl,” Arthur growled, his broad chest heaving with exertion. Beads of sweat rolled down his face, dripping from his chin to the white stone beneath us. “Do you always toy with your opponents like this?”
I didn’t dignify him with a response, simply beckoning him forward with a casual wave. Over the past week, I’d honed my one-handed fighting skills, though Nida and Nasq hadn’t provided a sufficient challenge to truly test my limits. Facing a silver realm warrior now was a prime opportunity to solidify my balance and overcome the instability introduced by my recent disfigurement.
But then I slipped. As I twisted to avoid an upward diagonal axe swing, my center of gravity shifted poorly, with too much weight landing on my back foot. The slight forward change in Arthur’s posture was the only signal that he’d noticed my mistake before his other axe barreled toward my exposed side.
Desperation took over as I swung my blade across to my armless side, placing it between my ribs and the incoming axe. There was no time to deflect; the strike crashed full force into the flat of my sword, driving it hard into my side and sending me tumbling away from the warrior.
Grunting, I twisted mid-air, using the momentum to roll back onto my feet. Energy surged through my core, coiling around me like a protective cloud. It cushioned my landing, allowing me to touch down softly and regain completed stability. I blew loose strands of hair from my face as silence fell over the stadium. I resisted the urge to glance around, choosing instead to keep my eyes on Arthur who’d proved capable enough to land a hit on me, albeit so long as I wasn’t trying to kill him outright.
Arthur’s eyes were wide, but not with fear. It was surprise, I realized, as I spotted my shredded cloak lying in two ragged halves on the stone floor. His gaze was on my arm—or rather, the absence of it.
He opened his mouth to speak, but a surge of heart energy accompanying my instant charge forward, cut off any words. His war axes rose just in time to block my blade’s swing—but the strike never came. I used heart energy to reorientate the momentum around the blade to force the weapon into a downward arc.
I sliced through both of his hands, severing each pinky and a generous portion of flesh.
When our eyes met, the surprise had finally faded, replaced by the fear that should have been there from the start.
I halted my strike less than a second before it would have cleaved him in two, the blade coming to a stop horizontally against his torso. Though the sword didn’t pierce him, the sheer force of the motion, combined with the overwhelming terror of imminent death, made the man flinch back so violently that he stumbled and fell to the ground.
I shifted the blade, following his descent so that when he lifted his eyes to meet mine, the tip rested lightly against the stubble of his neck.
“That hurt a bit,” I taunted, pressing just enough for a drop of blood to slide down his Adam's apple, soaking into his sweat-streaked shirt.
“I forfeit,” Arthur gasped, releasing his war axes and lifting his hands in surrender.
I glanced down at the silver realm warrior, unimpressed. He’d given up this fight without hesitation.
What a weak mind, I thought. A waste of power and a waste of potential.
With a flick of my wrist, I swept the enchanted blade to the side, clearing any blood from its gleaming surface before sheathing it. I’d seen other fighters offer their defeated opponents a hand, but I didn’t as I watched Arthur struggle to his feet, bowing toward me, then toward Princess Isla, who still stared at me from the stands. Before he left, he turned back and gave me a shrug.
“You are stronger than I could have imagined, Lady Lilliana.”
“And you are much weaker than I had hoped.”
He shrugged again and exited through the gate, waving off a healer who rushed to his side.
A frown deepened on my lips as I watched him go. That nagging feeling, the one that had been tugging at me ever since I’d discovered the lack of cores in Silverwater, was back again. Something was off about Lysoria, and I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. Normally, combat skills matched a fighter’s energy level, but Arthur’s energy had been far greater than his skill—like his core had been artificially increased.
But that didn’t make sense. Even if Lysoria had enough monster cores to achieve that, why go through the trouble of boosting someone’s core level if there was no intention to train them to fully harness the power? If his core hadn’t been artificially raised, there was no way Arthur could have reached the silver realm. He simply wasn’t skilled enough.
“Winner of the north stage match, Lilliana ‘Queen’ Silverwater!” Jarold announced, his voice booming through the arena. The crowd’s reaction was mixed—cheers and jeers clashed together—but it was clear that most were still uncertain how to view me. That suited me just fine.
For now.
Jarold whistled. “By the Gods, what a thrilling sequence of events! Who would have thought that a young lady like her could so easily defeat The Excalibur, who served as Princess Isla’s personal blade during the recent border skirmishes? We may have just witnessed the rise of a future powerhouse! I’m just grateful this tournament has a no-killing rule, or we might have caught a glimpse of Lady Lilliana’s…” His voice cut out for a moment. “Uh, her… great thirst for action!”
I couldn’t help but let a small, satisfied smile tug at the corner of my lips as Jarold was yanked away from the broadcast for a third time.
That must be Dralos’ doing, I thought, summoning the Alistar House Coin from my ring store as I descended the stage’s steps to await the next round. “Field Marshal Aargorn Delgov?”
“We await your commands, Duchess,” came the response through the House Coin’s telepathic link.
"Get ready."
Comments
Jah Army
Thanks for the chapter
Fudge Esq
Merry Christmas!
Fudge Esq
K, fixed! That should read much better lol
Fudge Esq
Thaaaaat is a good point lol I’ll change that right away.
Bob
Thanks for this nice chapter. My blade mastery must be laking but I'm wondering how one handed, and with a sword in hand she is able to give a pat of her palm to her opponent.
EsZeus
And 🎄 Merry Christmas
EsZeus
Nice
