Even in training, he heard about his betrothed.
She was born with the complete mastery of the Viaca Technique, which focused on assassination. She was a genius as well, perhaps even more than Vastarael. And even at ten years old, he could see how powerful she was even though they were the same age.
Hundreds of Lysameria's feline-featured subordinates gathered to watch. Across from him stood Adelasta Viaca. The girl barely reached his height but her presence was overwhelming. Her twin dark daggers glinted ominously in the sunlight and she twirled them. At ten years old, she was already a legend in her own right.
She is prodigy born with mastery of the Viaca Technique, which is a deadly style of assassination that focuses on speed, precision and ruthlessness. Where Vastarael had spent years training and refining his abilities, Adelasta's brilliance seemed innate.
Lysameria's voice echoed across the arena.
"The rules are simple. Whoever incapacitates the other wins."
Vastarael gripped his glaive tightly. He knew he was at a disadvantage. Against a dagger user, especially one as skilled as Adelasta, his long reach would be a liability. She would aim to get inside his range, where his weapon was nearly useless. But he couldn't back down, not in front of the hundreds of onlookers and definitely not in front of his mother.
"Hello, my betrothed," she replied with an emotionless tone. "We meet again."
"Uh... hello?"
"I suggest you don't hold back. I'm not going to lose."
Adelasta moved first. Before Vastarael could even think, she vanished from his sight. She appeared behind him. Instinct took over. Vastarael spun his glaive in a wide arc. Adelasta leaped back gracefully.
"You're slow."
Vastarael ignored the taunt, focusing on her movements. Her speed was unlike anything he had faced before. She ran around him. Her footsteps were impossibly light as she tested his defenses. Vastarael swung his glaive in sweeping arcs, trying to keep her at bay but Adelasta was relentless. Each time he struck, she was already gone, slipping through his defenses like water through cracks.
Vastarael's glaive was a massive disadvantage. The audience murmured, impressed by her precision.
"He's outmatched," one of the subordinates whispered.
"Look at her movements. She's toying with him," another added.
Vastarael gritted his teeth. He couldn't let her dominate the fight. He was able to predict her attacks since she was targeting his blind spots but every time he struck back, she was gone. Her daggers aimed for his throat after forcing him on the defensive. Vastarael barely had time to react, twisting his body and using the shaft of his glaive to block the strike. The impact jarred his arms but he held firm.
'She's strong too! Just who is she?!'
And then he saw a pattern.
Adelasta's attacks, while fast and unpredictable, had a rhythm. She was testing him, probing his defenses before committing to a decisive blow. If he could disrupt that rhythm, he might have a chance. The next time Adelasta charged, Vastarael feigned a misstep, allowing her to close the distance. Vastarael reduced the weapon's range but holding close to one of the blade's edge. She took the bait but instead of retreating, Vastarael stepped into her attack, using the shaft to deflect her strike. The maneuver brought them face-to-face and for a split second, her eyes widened in surprise.
"Your eyes... you'll have Mystic Eyes soon, won't you?"
"I don't know what you're talking about!"
With a burst of strength, Vastarael spun the glaive in a tight circle, forcing Adelasta to backflip away. The crowd erupted in cheers as he pressed the advantage. Vastarael gritted his teeth as he tightened his grip on the glaive. His body screamed from the strain but he ignored it.
He had found his rhythm. For the first time in the match, Adelasta was no longer dictating the pace.
With a calculated step back, Vastarael used the glaive's long reach to his advantage, sweeping the blade in wide arcs. The arena filled with the sound of the weapon cutting through the air. Adelasta ran side to side, trying to find an opening but Vastarael's control was impeccable. Every step she took forward, he matched with a retreat, keeping her precisely where he wanted.
Adelasta frowned. She lunged again, aiming for Vastarael's legs but he anticipated the attack. With a smooth pivot, he swung the glaive downward in a crescent arc, the force creating a gust of wind that made her stumble back.
"You're not as untouchable as you seem."
Adelasta's eyes narrowed, a faint smirk tugging at her lips.
"Neither are you."
They charged towards each other.
Vastarael pressed his advantage. Every time she tried to close the distance, he countered with a sweep or thrust, forcing her to retreat. The audience could see the brilliance of his strategy. His glaive was a barrier that Adelasta couldn't breach. Adelasta's frustration was evident. Her steps faltered as she realized that Vastarael had adapted to her speed. Lysameria watched from the sidelines and saw the way Vastarael moved now.
"That's... bits of the Plenituse First Technique."
Caresse, seated beside her, tilted her head. "He's already mastered maintaining range? Isn't that... advanced?"
"It is. Most fighters his age would struggle to balance offense and defense like this, but look at him. He's learning faster than I anticipated."
Opera, seated on Lysameria's other side, smirked. "Your son's a prodigy. Are you surprised?"
Lysameria didn't answer.
Adelasta's breathing grew heavier as she tried to find a weakness in Vastarael's defense. Every lunge, every feint and attempt to break through his range ended the same way with her forced back to where she started.
"You're keeping your distance well but do you think I'll let you win just because of that?"
Vastarael didn't respond.
The crowd cheered as Vastarael unleashed a series of spinning strikes. Adelasta dodged as she deflected one of the strikes but the sheer force sent her skidding backward. Vastarael's instincts screamed at him to stop but momentum carried him forward. As he swung the glaive downward in a decisive strike, Adelasta stumbled. For a moment, he thought he had her. Then, his thoughts raced.
'Assassins don't hesitate. Wait. Don't tell me...'
His eyes widened in realization. It was a feint.
Before he could adjust, Adelasta vanished in a blur of motion. The cheers from the crowd fell into stunned silence as she seemed to melt into the shadows.
Vastarael barely had time to spin around when he felt the cold, sharp press of a dagger against his throat. His entire body froze as her second dagger hovered just above his heart.
"You fought well but you forgot one thing. An assassin always strikes where you least expect."
The feline subordinates exchanged wide-eyed glances. Even Lysameria leaned forward as she assessed the flawless execution of Adelasta's counterattack.
"That speed..." Caresse murmured, her voice tinged with disbelief. "She vanished before he even saw her move."
Opera crossed her arms, letting out a low whistle. "Your son may be brilliant but that girl? She's terrifyingly good."
"She's a Viaca," Lysameria said simply. "Their technique is made for moments like this. She's been trained to read and manipulate her opponent's rhythm and Rael fell for it perfectly."
Vastarael didn't dare move. The daggers were perfectly placed and one wrong twitch would end the match and possibly his life. He swallowed hard as he tried to figure out where he went wrong. Adelasta, however, stepped back gracefully, withdrawing her daggers with a faint smile.
"Yield, my prince?"
He nodded, exhaling a shaky breath as he lowered his glaive.
"I yield."
The crowd roared in admiration for the display of skill but Vastarael barely heard them. His gaze remained fixed on Adelasta.
"You're... incredible. And fast."
Adelasta shrugged, spinning one of her daggers idly.
"I've trained my whole life for moments like this. You'll get there too. Eventually."
Lysameria approached him, placing a hand on his shoulder.
"You did well but don't forget. Every opponent has their strength. Never assume you've won until the fight is truly over."
Vastarael nodded. The fight had humbled him but it also lit a fire in his heart. He had tasted defeat and it stung but he wouldn't let it define him. For now, though, he watched as Adelasta walked away. He couldn't help but admire her skill and silently vow to one day match it.
"I'll defeat you eventually, my betrothed."