Elyndra’s grip on Regal Severance tightened, the faint smile on her lips betraying both irritation and admiration. "To think you’d twist my sovereign decree into nothing more than a dish to satisfy your hunger. You really are infuriating, Ainsworth."
Her tone was sharp, yet there was a glimr in her eyes that revealed she wasn’t entirely displeased. For soone to take her technique head-on and even consu it, it only ant her instincts about him were right.
She raised her blade once more, tyrannical energy crackling around her form like a mantle. "But I won’t let you turn my will into food a second ti. I’ll show you what it ans to stand before the Crown Princess of Valtoria."
Ainsworth spun one of his knives with a flourish, his smirk never fading. "Then I expect a second course. Just make sure it’s not too bland this ti."
The provocation hit its mark. Elyndra’s aura flared, her Rulership Energy colliding with her aura and mana until it rippled outward like the coronation of an empress. The ground trembled beneath her feet as her presence alone weighed upon the battlefield.
She taunted, "Do you dare fight in close combat?"
Ainsworth answered not with words but with action. In a blur, his knives flashed to life, twin arcs of silver that glead like fangs in the dark.
Elyndra surged forward, Regal Severance descending in a sovereign arc, a blade ant to crush all beneath its decree.
The clash rang out, steel against steel, sparks scattering like stars.
Ainsworth’s dual knives danced, intercepting her strike with uncanny precision. Each motion was efficient, almost playful, as if he were guiding her rhythm instead of rely defending.
Elyndra pressed on, her footwork sharp, sword slicing through the air with imperial authority. But every ti her edge seed poised to land, Ainsworth was already there.
One knife deflected, the other slid close enough to graze but never cut. His movents were not overwhelming; they were deliberate, like a teacher sculpting the form of his pupil through battle.
"Too heavy on the wrists," Ainsworth remarked mid-clash, his blades catching hers and pushing it aside with a flick. "Flow, don’t force."
Her teeth clenched, but her strikes adapted. The next swing ca with a smoother cadence, and though he still deflected with ease, there was a refinent she had not shown before.
Back and forth they moved, her regal swordplay against his predatory knives.
Ainsworth’s superiority was clear in the subtle ways he controlled the tempo, never striking to kill but always striking to correct.
Elyndra’s breath grew heavier, her focus sharper, each mistake honed away by his relentless, mocking precision.
Steel clashed again, knives crossing her blade in an ’X’ that halted her downward swing. Ainsworth’s smirk widened. "Better. Now again."
And so they continued. Minutes bled into more, their duel echoing like a symphony of steel, ntor and ntee clashing under the guise of equals.
...
Thirty minutes later
Their blades finally broke apart, leaving both standing a few paces away, sweat streaking Elyndra’s brow, her chest rising and falling with asured breath. Yet her grip was steadier, her stance sharper, her aura of rulership no longer just sovereign but disciplined.
Ainsworth twirled his knives lazily, eyeing her with rare seriousness. "Not bad, Princess. Under my guidance, your swordsmanship has leapt by bounds. If I dare say, you have sharpened yourself to the point you are brushing against the level of the Sword Saint himself."
Elyndra froze at his words, her heart thundering in disbelief. The Sword Saint was the Valtoria Empire’s guardian, a man revered as the greatest swordsman alive. For Ainsworth to compare her to him was both absurd and exhilarating.
Her lips curled into a faint, proud smile. "Then keep feeding your tricks, Ainsworth. If I am to surpass the Sword Saint, I’ll carve the path through your knives first."
And so, they continued their spar for a few more hours. It was purely close combat with no fancy skills like magic, but rely pure swordsmanship and knife arts.
Ainsworth’s expertise might not be swordsmanship, but his swordsmanship had already surpassed the Sword Saint. After all, his Hive Mind compiled a lot of mories, skills, and experiences of those who were part of it, and those Demon Kings had sword experts as well. The computational power amassed by his Hive Mind had already allowed him to deduce greater sword techniques.
Moreover, his God-Level Cooking talent enabled him to possess knife art proficiency that even surpassed that of X-rank True Gods. He was more than qualified to act as Elyndra’s ntor in swordsmanship and close combat.
Technically, his talent and proficiency in Cooking were more than enough to allow him to beco an X-rank True God with the divine position of a God of Cooking. However, Ainsworth knew that wasn’t the path he wanted and needed, so he wasn’t hasty in becoming a god, as he already planned his path to godhood.
As Elyndra and Ainsworth continued their sparring, which later turned into Ainsworth training Elyndra’s swordsmanship, Mira and the rest, who acted as spectators, had grown bored.
Ainsworth had secretly used his God-Level Guardian talent to protect Mira and the rest from his battle with Elyndra, so they were unaffected by it. So, Mira could sleep peacefully and not worry about stray attacks from their sparring while the rest of Elyndra’s teammates took a nap with Mira.
...
Hours later, their blades finally fell silent. By then, Elyndra had co to realize a bitter truth. No matter how far she sharpened herself under Ainsworth’s hand, the disciple could never surpass the master.
She felt that it was more likely for her to beco an X-rank True God than for her swordsmanship proficiency to surpass his knife arts proficiency.
She tightened her grip on Regal Severance, her breath steady but her heart restless. ’At this rate, I’ll never be able to force his confession...’
Elyndra still had assud that Ainsworth was still hellbent on taking revenge against the Mysterious Eye Organization for the sake of his sister, so she was unaware that he had already planned to confess to her regardless of the result of their sparring.
’I decided long ago that Ainsworth would be mine. I would even kill my sisters to claim the throne if that is what it takes. Once I beco Empress, I will silence all who dare mock him for his bloodline.’
Her eyes narrowed with determination. ’But if I wait, others will surely move first. No... I cannot hesitate. If he will not confess, then I will!’
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