I steadied the iron sword before me, taking a deep breath as I glanced back at Malachi.
Mirabel and Kivana stood nearby, watching closely as he began to train me, right after finishing with the others.
Albert had told me that Malachi was the one who used to train with me before I lost my memories.
That knowledge gave me a strange feeling, like a forgotten part of myself stirring back to life.
Maybe my body was beginning to remember on its own, gradually reclaiming its muscle memory. Even so, I doubted it would matter much.
I had never actually swung a sword in my previous life. Still, I had always enjoyed watching fencing matches, admiring the elegance of their movements.
Malachi held a sword identical to mine. His expression was serious, yet calm, almost unsettlingly so.
I had changed my clothes earlier. Usually, I just used mana to clean them, or so I was told. Mirabel did it for me now.
It felt easier, and I still was not fully accustomed to the luxury of showers. But when I felt the need, I did take them.
Being sick my entire life and being washed by nurses wasn't something I missed, not at all.
Today, I wore a black shirt and pants, cinched with a white belt. On my feet were white low-top shoes with black laces. Simple, but clean.
I steadied my breathing once more, eyes fixed ahead as I waited for Mirabel's voice to cut through the silence.
After a brief pause, she shouted, "Start!"
We both exploded forward from our positions.
I struck first, aiming a wide swing to his right.
He deflected it with ease and lunged forward.
I spun around and brought my sword down, but he twisted gracefully and thrust his blade upward.
The flat of his sword smacked against mine, and with a swift palm to my chest, he blasted me away using mana.
I crashed into the wooden railing, coughing as I tried to clear my throat.
This training field was small, but I had already been tossed around more times than I could count.
I jumped to my feet and focused mana into my chest before launching forward again. This time, I brought my blade down in a heavy arc.
Too wide.
He predicted it and sidestepped effortlessly, knocking my sword aside before swinging down.
I dug my foot into the dirt and dove under his arm, twisting my body as I swung toward his side.
Just before my blade could land, he slipped back with unnatural precision, channeling an azure fireball at the tip of his sword.
I dropped low, dodging the flame as it sizzled over me.
Then I leapt up and raised my sword to block his next strike.
His blade came crashing down, and the ground beneath my feet crumbled from the force.
I opened my mouth and began to channel mana there, preparing a spell. He jumped back immediately.
But I faked it, lunging forward instead.
My blade reached his chest. For a moment, I thought I had him.
Then the moment shifted, warped.
His blade was at my chest now.
I froze, eyes locking with his.
His pupils had transformed into a ten-sided star.
And they were bleeding.
"Damn cheater," I muttered. "You can't use that in a sparring match."
He shrugged as I fell to the ground. "You faked a spell. Basically the same thing."
I gave him a baffled look. "Me faking a spell is the same as you altering fate?"
Those eyes of his, the Eyes of Mora, allowed him to see the stars even during the day. They gave him power over fate and time.
The voice made that starkly clear the first time we fought. We had agreed we would only use elemental magic.
I turned to Mirabel, who simply shrugged and went back to reading her book.
Kivana also said nothing, however, she was more so focused on my movements, and she had a look on her.
She was always different during these moments, quiet and analytical.
[The king was contemplating something; he thought that Kivana might have been someone useful after all.]
The voice didn't differ too much from my actual thoughts, though its annoying comment caused me to have another revelation.
[The king thinks she's quite the smart girl, just simple.[
I got up, brushing myself off as I glanced back at her.
She remained silent for a while, then looked up and said, "Nicholas wins."
Malachi groaned, and I laughed as we returned to our starting positions.
This was the last fight.
I had now won two out of five.
Before Mirabel could give the signal, Kivana spoke. "I'm permitting the use of all abilities."
A second later, Mirabel shouted, "Start!"
Her voice barely finished when I saw three balls of flame descending from above.
As I dodged, the fireballs suddenly shifted direction midair and slammed into my back.
I stumbled forward as his blade came slicing toward my neck.
With a snap of my fingers, darkness erupted from my neck in a wide arc, smashing into him. He was flung back, but landed on one leg with expert balance.
At the same time, I flicked my wrist upward, sending him soaring into the air.
Then I reached out and clenched my fist.
A wave of force compressed around him. I had full control over gravity now. It required more effort than darkness, but it felt natural.
He struggled, trying to break free.
Then everything went blurry. My vision warped as my grip faltered. I cursed and tilted my head back, summoning every ounce of focus I had left.
That was when his sword flew past my face and embedded itself in the ground beside me.
I adjusted my stance and swung upward, just as he appeared behind the blade.
But he reached it faster than I could move.
He countered.
I jumped back and threw my sword high into the air. Then I clapped my hands.
Two perfect spheres materialized, one on each side of him.
I moved my right hand upward, and my left downward.
Friction sparked between them, and the spheres slammed into his sides.
They were spheres made of pure darkness, an absence, a chaos.
And yet, through that chaos, I achieved perfection, a truly flawless construct.
The terrifying truth of this attack lay not in its beauty, but in its inevitability.
It could not be stopped.
In the face of perfection, nothing matters. In the presence of absolute form, all impurities are extinguished.
That alone made this technique the strongest and most overwhelming force I could possibly wield.
[The king seemed excited; he was becoming more attuned with battle.]
"Perfect Dark."
The moment the words fell from my lips, the world bent around him.
He was consumed by a darkness so absolute it refused imperfection, denied resistance, and suffocated defiance.
But then I snapped my fingers and released him.
He gasped violently, collapsing forward, eyes wide with shock and fear.
The world seemed to tremble as they faded away, the perfection dimming from the sheer thought.
[The king had unleashed his greatest attack, and his most vile.]
Mirabel and Kivana both stared in silent awe, their eyes reflecting the immense pressure they had just witnessed.
Why did the voice call them vile?"What? Was that overboard?"