Patriot and Queen – Part 06
“Who are you? What do you want?” Cecily asked, not expecting an answer.
“Sorry, but it’s nothing personal.” So when a muffled, emotionless reply came, Cecily was surprised. “For the sake of my homeland, you’ll have to die.”
Instantly, the assassin moved. But instead of charging straight at her, she hurled a wooden table toward her.
Cecily didn’t dodge. Instead, she summoned the Infernal Blade’s power, unleashing a silver wind that struck the table and sent it crashing to the floor. The assassin dipped low and nimbly circled around to Cecily’s right. Cecily kept her eyes locked on her the whole time.
Remember what Luke taught you.
“Focus on seeing the whole picture, not just isolated parts of your opponent.”
Focus on more than just the weapon. Watch their feet, their arms, the position of their free hand, their lower body, their gaze, their very presence. Observe everything and read the opponent’s intentions. Never fall behind.
“You’re strong. At least, much stronger than before.”
I can do this.
The assassin melted into the shadows of the setting sun. Suddenly, a stiletto gleamed from the darkness. Cecily didn’t hesitate. She intercepted the blade with the flat of her rapier and skillfully redirected it upward, pulling the weapon into a bind. The woman’s midsection was wide open. Cecily followed through in an instant, aiming her rapier at the gap.
Sparks flew as the tip of the rapier met the woman’s iron gauntlet. The blade bent slightly on impact. The assassin pressed down, forcing Cecily’s sword downward while thrusting her stiletto at Cecily’s right eye. Cecily, anticipating the strike, shifted her body just in time to dodge the attack.
But as the woman attempted to circle around for another strike, Cecily was caught off guard. A sharp blow hit her chest, forcing her back. For a moment, her breath caught. Confused, she tried to understand what had just happened when another strike landed, this time on her shoulder and arm.
Cecily ground her teeth. She’s skilled in unarmed combat, too!
The assassin lifted her right leg, bending her joint like a whip, and delivered a series of kicks. The style was unlike anything Cecily had seen before, without the typical hip twist. The woman’s foot collided with Cecily’s forehead, knocking her back.
Cecily recognized the disadvantage of being in close quarters. She quickly leaped back, twisting her body to create space.
“Don’t die. Never.”
With those words, Cecily stepped forward, her foot slamming into the ground with so much force, it felt like the floor would give way beneath her. She thrust her rapier into the empty space ahead, pushing her entire right side forward, not just her arm.
A silver gale tore through the room.
There was a blinding flash of light as the silver wind blasted forward with destructive power. Tables and chairs were tossed aside, floorboards cracked, and walls shattered under the force of the attack. Dust filled the air, thick as a sandstorm. If anyone had taken the full brunt of the blow, they would have survived, but with broken bones.
Cecily nodded to herself, confident she had struck true. She had aimed to neutralize her opponent completely, and it seemed she had.
But then, her legs were swept out from under her, and she fell shoulder-first. A boot heel slammed into the pit of her stomach. Cecily writhed on the floor, coughing violently. She looked up at the black shadow looming over her.
The woman, the one Cecily had just downed with the Infernal Blade, stood over her, completely unscathed. Cold eyes met hers.
Did she dodge that?
Still gasping for air, Cecily pushed herself up, thrusting her rapier upward. The stiletto deflected it easily, and before Cecily could react, the woman’s boot struck her temple with brutal force.
The world tilted as pain exploded in her head. The blow was so strong it nearly knocked her out. Ironically, it was the sharp pain—the stiletto’s tip driven shallowly into her side—that brought her back to her senses. It wasn’t a fatal strike. The assassin might have misjudged or been toying with her. The blade was swiftly pulled out and swung down again, aimed for Cecily’s chest.
But Cecily twisted, and the blade struck her arm instead. It slid off and struck her right shoulder. None of the strikes were fatal, perhaps because the assassin feared being disarmed, but each delivered enough pain and threat to drive her thoughts into a frenzy.
Looking up, she saw the tip of the blade coming at her. Cecily screamed, a raw, desperate sound.
In the chaos, she swung her rapier wildly. The assassin blocked it with her left hand, and with the other, continued the relentless onslaught of stiletto strikes. Cecily couldn’t hold on any longer. She threw her sword away, covering her head with her arms and using her legs to shield her torso.
But the woman didn’t stop. Her strikes rained down mercilessly, piercing Cecily’s limbs, leaving tiny, shallow cuts everywhere.
Blood mixed with the swirling dust, staining the air with a red mist.
“You’re strong. At least, much stronger than before.”
Cecily could only curl up, her body too exhausted to maintain any semblance of bravado.
“You’re strong. At least, much stronger than before.”
Her mind shattered, and the tears flowed freely.
“You’re strong. At least, much stronger than before.”
She almost begged for her life, when suddenly, a roar erupted.
Luke crashed through the hole in the wall and lunged at the assassin. She barely avoided the sword aimed at her head, leaping back. Luke didn’t miss a beat. He closed the distance quickly, his movements like he was gliding across the floor, and swung his blade in a vicious diagonal cut. The stiletto clashed with his sword, sending sparks flying.
But Luke didn’t slow down. He unleashed a flurry of slashes—an upward cut, a downward sweep, a side-step slash—all blocked by the assassin’s dagger. Metal screeched with each impact. The assassin’s expression grew tighter. Luke’s heavy blade moved like lightning, relentless, not giving her a chance to launch a counterattack. Soon, he had her backed into a corner of the dining room.
The intensity was crushing. Luke stepped forward like a mountain, launching a horizontal strike aimed at her torso. The stiletto met his blade in a perfect cross, but the balance was short-lived. With a sharp metallic ring, the dagger flew from her hand, and the assassin was slammed into the wall, knocking over a pile of chairs in the corner.
Cecily lay on the floor, watching the whole scene. Blood stained her limbs, countless shallow wounds marking her body. She couldn’t even lift her arms. The blood loss was making it harder to keep her eyes open.
How could he overwhelm her that easily?
She was been powerless against her. Even with the Infernal Blade in her hand. Her opponent was not a demon or something beyond human comprehension. No, the assassin was just like her—human.
“I…”
Who was this sense of defeat directed at—the assassin, or him?
“You’re strong. At least, much stronger than before.”
She was sure those words weren’t a lie. She had indeed gotten better. But she’d misjudged how much better she actually was.
I’m weak.
She wasn’t anywhere near the point where she could joke about being “stronger.”
Luke called her name as he rushed toward her. Cecily gently closed her eyes.
She let go, surrendering to the loss of consciousness.
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