"You’re wrong!" she shouted, blocking another swing that nearly shattered her guard. "You think wiping them out will bring peace? It won’t! It’ll only breed more hatred, more bloodshed! The war will never end if you keep fighting it alone!" Selis shouted, trying to change to his mind even though she knew it was pointless.
Lucian’s expression twisted, anguish breaking through his mask of steel. "And you think trusting the vampires will?" He jerked his blade toward Erald. "She’s a curse, Selis. Her very existence is poison! How many children will be turned into beasts because of her blood? How many families torn apart? If she still lives, the church wouldn’t stop to get her back, and the vampires would wage war to save her. It’s never ending! You think I can let that stand?!"
The clash of swords echoed louder, sparks flying with each furious strike. Selis felt her arms numbing, her breath burning in her chest. But she forced herself to et his blade again and again, even as her body scread.
And in between those deadly clashes, she saw it—the flicker of pain in his eyes, the shadow of guilt. He didn’t want to kill her. But he would. For humanity’s sake, he would bury his own heart.
That was Lucian. The man she loved. The man she hated in that mont.
Selis had miscalculated this ti. She thought that if she wrapped Lucian around her finger—made him love her—he would bend to her will like the other n before.
But this was no ordinary man, and no ordinary world. Rank-A worlds weren’t so easily swayed by charm or desire. They weren’t fragile like the lower-ranked ones—here, strength and conviction burned too fiercely to be tad.
Erald watched like a queen observing her gladiators, her crimson gaze glowing brighter. "How delicious," she murmured. "The taste of sacrifice. Love turned against itself. You mortals are ever so entertaining."
"Shut up!" Selis snarled, breaking free from a lock and spinning into a strike aid at Lucian’s side. He blocked it with ease, the force rattling her to her teeth.
Lucian pressed forward, his blade a storm. "Stand down, Selis! Don’t make —"
"Don’t make you what?" she gasped between swings. "Kill ? Break ? Or worse—live with yourself after you’ve cut down?!"
His jaw clenched. His eyes flashed. He struck harder.
The two danced in deadly rhythm, steel flashing, hearts colliding with every blow. Both of them bleeding, not from wounds, but from the agony of betraying each other.
And all the while, Erald smiled, her laughter soft and velvety, as if she already knew how this tragedy would end.
Selis’s breath ca in ragged gasps as the clash of steel rang sharp against the torchlit hall. Sparks scattered each ti her blade t Lucian’s, the sound echoing like the tolling of a death bell. Her arms trembled, not from exhaustion, but from the heaviness that clung to her heart with every strike.
Lucian’s crimson eyes burned with purpose, sharp and unrelenting, yet Selis could feel it. He wasn’t cutting as deep as he could, wasn’t striking as true as he always did. His blade was always angled just enough to graze her armor, to deflect instead of pierce, to force her back but never end her life.
It hurt more than the blows themselves.
"Why . . . why are you holding back?" Selis shouted between breaths, parrying another strike that sent vibrations up her arm. Her lips trembled, and the words burned her throat. "If you want to kill , then kill ! Don’t—don’t insult by sparing !"
Lucian’s blade halted inches from her cheek. His jaw tightened, his expression a war of emotions hidden beneath his usual steel mask. Then, his voice ca low, sharp:
"You think I want to do this?" he growled, his breath hot with rage. "You think I enjoy raising my sword against you?" He shoved her back, forcing her to stumble before swinging again. His strikes were faster now, heavier, but she still noticed it—each one curved away at the last mont, his blade never once aiming for her heart or throat.
Even now . . . even when he swears he’ll kill , he still won’t do it.
And that truth shattered her. Because she knew—it wasn’t that Lucian couldn’t kill her. It was that he wouldn’t. He loved her, and that made his strikes heavy with conflict.
But Erald was another story. The chained vampire, watching with her velvet eyes, had Lucian’s every ounce of hate and purpose aid at her. He didn’t hesitate when it ca to her. And each ti his blade swung toward Erald’s throat, Selis had to throw herself between them.
"Damn it, Lucian!" Selis hissed, blocking him again, her arms aching from the force. "You’re not giving a choice—"
Lucian’s eyes narrowed. "Neither are you."
And with that, his blade ca crashing down harder, faster, pushing Selis further and further back. Sweat stung her eyes. Every movent was becoming more desperate. The sound of clashing steel filled the chamber like thunder, and with each strike, Selis felt her strength waning.
Still, he refused to land a killing blow. And that rcy was what cut her deepest of all.
Tears burned the corners of her eyes. He doesn’t want to kill . But he will kill her. He’ll kill Erald, and everything I’ve fought for will an nothing.
Her sword shook in her hands. Do I betray him . . . or lose this ga?
Her answer ca the mont Lucian feinted left and swung right—straight for Erald’s neck.
"NO!" Selis scread.
She threw herself forward, her blade catching his in the last possible mont. The impact rattled her bones, nearly breaking her grip, but she stood firm.
Lucian’s crimson eyes widened for just a heartbeat, then darkened with cold resolve.
"You’re in my way." His voice was deathly quiet now, stripped of warmth.
For the first ti since she’d t him, Selis felt true fear. Not because of his sword—but because of his resolve.
He was really going to kill Erald. And if Selis stood in his way . . .
Then he’d cut her down too.
Her heart cracked in two at the thought. This man—this man she loved, who had shared his soul and body with her—was now ready to cast her aside for his mission.
And yet . . . wasn’t she doing the sa?
Her knuckles whitened on her sword hilt. She had no choice. To protect Erald, to win this ga, she had to kill him.
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