The Lord of Veins | Shadow Slave

"...Begin!" 

The tall burning braziers cast their frenzied shadows as the battled commenced.

He lunged at her without hesitation, exploiting the few seconds it would take for her to activate her Aspect Ability. 

His sword whistled through the air, aiming for her side. 

She reacted swiftly, slashing back at his blade, steel meeting steel with a sharp clang. 

Then, something shifted. It was faint, but he recognized it---her Aspect ability activated.

Dex retreated, quickly creating distance between himself and her. He moved toward the edge of the clearing.

"Fight her, you idiot!" a man from the sidelines shouted. Dex paid him no mind. His breaths came quick and shallow, his focus zeroed in. 

Strength? Dex thought, his mind racing.

He blinked, and then she charged at him. She chose speed. 

She quickly closed the gap and arced her blade toward him. The attack was swift, cutting through the air, but it was nothing impossible for him.

He shifted, his blade moving just in time to block hers. Sparks flew as the swords clashed. If not for his grueling matches against Cael, maybe he'd have trouble reacting in time. 

Dex didn't stop there, he followed through with another attack driving his sword forward.

Hera met his attack with a parry, her movements fluid and precise. Then she smiled. It was faint, and it angered him. 

Dex attacked her again, which she blocked, but then he lowered himself sweeping her leg, knocking her to the floor, his sword pointed down at her, directly at her face. 

"Surrender..." Dex said calmly, stifling his anger.

Hera's eyes narrowed as Dex's blade hovered just inches from her face. Her breath remained stead, despite the intense pressure, and Dex could feel the anger building inside her. 

With a swift, almost imperceptible motion, she dropped her left hand to the ground, fingers splayed across the cold cathedral stone. Her palm struck the floor, and in one motion, her right leg shot out, sweeping low beneath his, hooking his ankle and sending him off balance.

She sprang to her feet, sword in hand, and leaped at him. But before she could land her strike, Dex reacted. He kicked her square in the chest, sending her crashing back to the stone floor. 

As they both rose to their feet, the air seemed to thicken, heavier now. Dex could feel it---the change of her aspect ability. 

Hera's Aspect, as Esmeray had explained, allowed her to amplify her physical capabilities in progressive stages. Each stage granted her exponentially greater power, but at a steep price—every increase strained her body, bringing her closer to exhaustion or even collapse.

Dex's strategy was straightforward, in theory. He needed to bait her into overusing her power, driving her to her limits. Then, when she was heavily exhausted, he would use his own Aspect Ability to finish the fight.

But the problem was her power. Hera's first stage alone was nearly on par with Dex when he used his own Aspect, so how strong was her second stage?

Before Dex could plan his next move, Hera was already attacking. Her blade sliced toward him, but this time, her movements were slower. He reacted instinctively, bringing his sword up to block.

The instant their weapons connected, he felt it—a staggering force behind her strike. It was as if the weight of a hundred men bore down on him. His arm strained against the crushing pressure.

For a moment, he thought his body might give in. But just as the force nearly overwhelmed him, Dex twisted free, narrowly escaping her crushing blade.

The force of her attack betrayed her. Unable to fully control the power she wielded, Hera followed through too far. Her blade slammed into the stone floor, shattering the surface and leaving a deep gouge.

Dex glanced at her, his breathing quickening, and saw her expression. The grin she'd worn moments ago was gone, replaced by a face of fatigue. Esmeray's plan was working, but wasn't it too soon? 

In her compromised position, Dex saw an opportunity. He stepped in and slashed at her exposed side. Hera moved to evade, but her speed—sacrificed for strength—couldn't save her. His blade bit deeply into her arm, cleaving through the mundane chainmail as if it were paper. Blood sprayed across the cathedral floor, vivid and seeping into the grooves in the stone floor.

The crowd erupted in awe and astonishment. Gasps and murmurs filled the space—Dex had drawn first blood.

Hera's reaction surprised him. The crowd's response seemed to mean nothing to her. Her face was calm, defiant despite the deep gash in her arm. Dex's blade still lodged there, yet she didn't flinch, not even attempting to remove it. 

The air around Hera disjointed. It shifted chaotically, as if unsure of which was to flow. Dex instinctively drew his blade back, bracing himself. 

"Leave her alone!" Hera barked underneath her gritted teeth. 

Her words, filled with such anger, sent a chill down his spine.

"What the hell are you talking about?" he asked, his voice tense as he raised his sword defensively. 

Hera tilted her head slightly, her dirty blonde hair falling in front of one of her eyes. "So, you want to die?" 

Suddenly, the air grew even more dense, pressing down on Dex. Around the arena, the crowd reacted audibly---they too felt the shift. Hera had advanced to another stage. 

She stepped forward, her focus entirely on Dex. Her eyes---once sharp---were now streaked with crimson. Blood seeped from her tear ducts, streaming down her cheeks. 

She lost it!

Hera moved, her speed unnatural. Her blade was mere moments from cleaving his face.

Dex immediately activated his Aspect to its fullest, narrowly tilting his head back to dodge. The blade missed, but a sharp sting raked across his face. Pain erupted in his eyes, forcing them shut as blood began to spill, mirroring hers.

He staggered back, struggling to open his eyes. As soon as he did, she was upon him. He dodged her blows, but even as he avoided her blade, the air around it tore through his chainmail.

Still, Dex managed to endure. Both of them were blinded now, blood pooling in their eyes and streaking down their faces.

In a sudden burst of power, Hera's blade connected with his chest. The blow cracked his mundane armor, sending shards of metal shrapnel scattering. 

Pain surged through him, each microscopic cut igniting as if his skin were on fire. His lungs seized, his breath torn away, and his body locked in a spasmodic shudder. With a strangled gasp, he collapsed to one knee, his weight sinking into the cracked ground beneath him.

His hand searched his chest for any grave injuries and found nothing, his bare chest was only red and raw.

Through the haze of pain, he looked up to see her standing over him, her blade unwavering and pointed at his throat. Her bloodied tears dripped onto the floor, mingling with the chaos below.

The sensible thing would have been to surrender. His body screamed for respite, begged for survival. But with trembling hands, Dex gripped his sword and, against all reason, forced himself to his feet.

Shit... She might actually kill me.

His battered frame swayed, his vision blurred, but he planted his stance firmly. He wasn't sure if it was pride, stupidity, or some cursed sense of honor that drove him. Maybe it didn't matter. All that mattered now was who held the greater resolve.

And, for the first time, he wasn't sure his was greater.

The crowd erupted in a deafening roar as Dex stood once more. But neither he nor Hera cared for the crowd.

And as the air between them grew taut, he made his decision. If he was to lose, it would be with his blade in motion and not an ounce of himself held back.