Chapter 34 – Duel [2]
Isolde didn’t know how much time had passed since the duel began, but it was long enough for her to feel the drain through her body and essence.
The temperature of the room had risen to a blistering level, so hot her face was soaked with sweat, steam rising off her body, every movement made harder under the constant waves of heat slamming into her from Cassius.
Yet her face was grinning so wildly it looked ready to crack open.
’He is improving!’
She thought with a delight that surprised even herself, watching Cassius deflect her kick and parry her left hand before countering with a sharp elbow strike.
She barely blocked it, taking her distance. She exhaled, lungs struggling under the smoke, and looked at him.
The man wore the same wild grin as her, his face bloodied from the many times her fists had connected mercilessly. He had not yet managed to touch her face, though she couldn’t say the same for her forearms, which were red and slowly swelling.
He had no mercy. And Isolde found herself liking that, pushing herself harder without crossing past Mortal Self rank.
The two had entered a state of pure euphoria no one could have predicted.
And so...
Cassius and Isolde flew into each other.
Fists connected, sharp sound waves cutting across the room, Cassius’s crimson fire spreading and sizzling Isolde’s skin on contact.
She gritted her teeth and increased the potency of her Sound Deprivation, focusing it entirely on him. His eyes went wide, his mind lost for a brief moment — but enough for Isolde to twist her body, spin like a whirlwind, and kick for his temple.
Or so she thought.
Cassius had grown far more accustomed to her power than before. He reacted — sluggishly, but he reacted — and grabbed her leg with his flaming hands just before it reached his face.
Isolde’s eyes widened. Cassius’s grin sharpened.
One heavy step on the ground — so hard the floor trembled — for solid footing, he pivoted and hurled Isolde into the wall of weapon racks, using his fire to amplify the throw.
A blast of fire and smoke erupted. Isolde screamed, feeling the skin of her legs burning as she was sent like a cannonball.
She became a blur of crimson, smoke trailing behind her. Cassius followed close, his mind in a strange state: the First Loop was almost closed.
He could feel it. He was close. Very close. The knowledge sent adrenaline roaring through him. He laughed through his bleeding face as he closed the gap.
Isolde was not done. She flipped mid-air using the momentum of his attack, feet colliding with the wall just in time.
It cracked.
Cassius’s eyes shot up. Isolde acted immediately, ignoring the burning pain on her legs and fists. She grabbed the wooden weapons from the rack, snapped them, and hurled them at the rushing Cassius.
Without slowing, he drove his flaming fist into the incoming debris. Fire flared, and he immediately regretted it as the burst blinded him for a moment.
A moment was enough.
Isolde was already at his left, her Skill hit at full force. Cassius found himself without sight or hearing, plunged into helplessness he hadn’t expected in that instant.
She had no mercy either. She clenched her right fist until it creaked like grinding teeth and, with obvious killing intent, caved it into his temple.
CRACK—!
Cassius’s head rebounded. Eyes, mouth and nose all erupted in blood, painting the air in red. He staggered back, falling.
The fire finally cleared. Isolde watched, and for a moment her eyes widened slightly, her heart tightening with an unnamed worry at what she had done.
But suddenly, her thoughts ground to a cold halt. Cassius didn’t fall. He twisted his body mid-fall and threw a punch straight at her face.
Isolde laughed with delight and crossed her arms instinctively. Then cursed and felt genuine fear when the fist zigzagged like a hissing snake, slipping under her crossed arms and pounding a clean uppercut directly to her chin.
Isolde’s eyes dilated, her jaw cracked, blood spilled. Her feet left the ground and she was hurled away.
She rolled across the floor several times before stopping beside the training room door.
Isolde was unmoving for few seconds before her body twitched.
She planted her forearms, coughing, blood and spit smearing the floor beneath her. Her head was ringing as if a hammer was pounding it without pause, her jaw dislocated from the strike.
She raised her head and found Cassius standing there, his face a mess of blood and broken nose and split lips.
He was swaying like he might fall at any moment, and yet was far too proud to let it happen. His red eyes, even beneath all the blood, were impossibly red, burning like untamed fire, holding something inside them she couldn’t name.
Cassius knew, even if he couldn’t see it himself. Because at that moment, the First Loop had finally closed — granting him the Adaptation to dual wielding, with his hand-to-hand combat sharpened at the last possible instant.
The second Loop was almost there too, only a quarter remained.
His mind and body had synced. A light of Enlightenment hooded his eyes.
Isolde laughed, the sound rasp and weak. "Oh... fucking bastard." She cursed, trying to stand. "No mercy for women?"
She coughed, then spat blood along with a broken tooth.
"Not for those I respect... darling." Cassius whispered, voice sore. "You have one attempt left. Right?"
He added, swaying slightly.
[You would have died if the Loop hadn’t closed in that exact moment, Cassius!] Ananke said with barely hidden shock.
Cassius only smiled tensely, not answering, his eyes on Isolde alone. He knew well what he was risking.
Isolde, meanwhile, managed to get back on her feet, blood dripping from her chin, then took her stance with a bloody grin.
"We are..." she paused, coughed, swayed weakly, "...not done yet, bastard."
Cassius mirrored her stance.
Both their essences were nearly gone. Yet neither cared, not willing to use fire or sound anymore.
Only pure strength.
So the two fiancés went at each other again, fists flying at the same time, connecting simultaneously to each other’s cheeks.
They staggered, smiling and cursing, then lunged again; continuing the brawl with no care for consequence. It was no longer anything like the calculated duel it had started as. It was just two people who refused to fall first.
Yet Isolde hadn’t expected Cassius to be this stubborn, this resilient. For every punch she landed, he landed one back. Sometimes even two.
After barely a minute more, both of them were nothing but blood, sweat and burn marks.
They could no longer move.
Cassius and Isolde dropped to their knees at the same time, facing each other — her fist planted on his jaw, his against her left flank.
They were at inch apart. Their loud, shallow, ragged breathing mixing together in one harrowing chorus.
They locked eyes.
Red against Purple.
"I... I win?" Cassius said, trying to smile with her fist still on his jaw.
Isolde scoffed. Or tried to, and coughed blood onto his chest instead, then grinned without shame. "No fucking way."
He grimaced, wanting to respond but too spent to manage it. He fell silent, his mind and body quietly shifting inward, adjusting to his new Adaptation — like a brain rewiring itself with fresh neurons.
Isolde, meanwhile, had one clear thought right at that instant:
Her third and last attempt.
She could drop the seal on her real strength right now and kill Cassius here, once and for all.
Just like she had intended. Just like she had promised herself. Just like she—!
Her thoughts stopped abruptly when Cassius’s head dropped weakly onto her shoulder, his hoarse voice barely above a breath.
"Sorry, darling." He said, closing his eyes. "I just need your shoulder for a moment. And I damned hope you have a high-level healing potion somewhere."
The thought of killing him evaporated instantly, replaced by a surge of annoyance tangled with something she refused to name.
"Fuck you, Cassius." She hissed, trying to sound threatening. "Get off me."
He chuckled weakly.
Just then, the training room door yanked open. Isolde’s maid stepped in carrying food and drinks, and immediately froze at the state of them both.
"Vorn’s hooded eyes!" The green-haired elderly woman cursed, dropping the plates on the floor and running toward them with fear written plainly across her face.
"MY LADY!"
—End of Chapter 34—