Chapter 10
Princess (sharp, controlled fury): I said… enough.
The stone beneath her knees cracked with the force of her struggle.
She twisted, trying to break free, but the Prince of Draventhia pressed his advantage, kicking and pinning her down. Her sword slipped just out of reach.
John's eyes widened. His chest tightened.
John (yelling): Ahh!! Princess!!
He lunged through the chaos, swinging his sword with precision, cutting down the soldiers in his path. Each strike was fueled by fear and determination, slicing through armor, knocking enemies aside.
John (thinking, grim): I won't let her fall… not now.
The battlefield around them roared — clashing steel, grunts of soldiers, screams of pain. Dust and debris rose in clouds, swirling like ghosts over the ruined plateau.
Princess's eyes blazed. Her grip tightened on her knees, every ounce of strength coiling like a spring, ready to explode.
Even as the Prince tried to overpower her, her focus never wavered. A quiet, deadly fury radiated from her.
John cut through the last wave of enemy soldiers, only a few meters from her now.
John (thinking): Hold on, Princess! I'm coming!
Princess gritted her teeth, blood trickling from the corner of her mouth, her vision blurred from fatigue and pain. But her stance never wavered.
The Prince lunged again, his blade slicing toward her chest. Princess twisted, narrowly avoiding the strike, and countered with a fierce upward slash, forcing him to stagger back.
Prince (grinning, taunting): You're stubborn… but it won't save you!
Princess growled, her movements sharper, more aggressive. She spun, her sword tracing a deadly arc that cut through the Prince's guard and sent sparks flying. Each strike was precise, almost beautiful in its lethal grace.
Princess (through gritted teeth): Don't… test me!
The Prince swung wildly, angered by her resilience. She ducked, rolled, and brought her sword up in a vicious backhand, grazing his shoulder. The impact was enough to make him stumble, but he quickly regained his footing.
Princess's breathing was heavy, but her eyes burned with determination. Even bleeding, even outnumbered, she refused to yield. She feinted left, then struck right — a calculated, almost cruel attack — forcing him to defend desperately.
John's eyes widened from a few meters away, every step forward filled with urgency.
John (thinking): She's not just fighting… she's burning. I have to reach her before she gets overwhelmed!
Suddenly, grotesque monsters clawed their way out of the fallen enemy soldiers, their glowing eyes radiating malice. The air thickened with the stench of decay and magic.
John's fists clenched, his teeth grinding. Rage and determination flared like wildfire.
John (shouting, furious): Oh… enemy soldiers weren't enough, and now this?!
Guinevere's eyes gleamed with a cruel, intoxicating thrill. Blood smeared her armor and cheeks, yet her expression was pure delight.
Guinevere (low, menacing): Hah… finally… the chaos I crave.
She spun into the swarm, her sword cutting a perfect arc through bone and armor. Limbs flew, and screams of monsters and men alike filled the night. Every strike was precise, merciless — she moved like a storm, enjoying the terror and control she commanded.
Soldiers tried to flee.
Soldier 1 (panicked): Monsters! I… I can't—
Soldier 2 (trembling): I have a family… I don't want to die here!
John's gaze swept the retreating men. Anger, frustration, and resolve burned in his eyes.
John (shouting, voice cracking with emotion): Do you want your families to suffer? If we retreat now, these monsters—and the curse—will follow them home! This is not just our fight! Every strike we take today protects someone we love!
He charged forward, cutting through the monsters with a combination of raw strength and precise skill. His kicks sent enemies flying; each swing of his blade was a statement: we do not give up.
John (shouting, even louder): Look at Princess Flora! She's risking her life for all of you! Every drop of her blood, every swing of her sword is for your future, for your families, for hope! And you… you would run?
Slowly, shame and courage battled in the soldiers' hearts. One by one, they turned, gripping their weapons again, inspired by his words.
Amidst the clash of steel, one soldier's blade wavered. His thoughts were elsewhere, haunted by the memory of his family, once enslaved, suffering while he could do nothing.
Princess Flora had seen him long ago, in another land, wandering lost. She had stepped in then, with kindness in her eyes.
Princess (softly, almost whispering): Isn't this your little girl?
Soldier (voice trembling): Yes…
Princess knelt slightly, her hands open, her voice gentle:
Princess: Don't you want her to grow up happy? To live free, without fear or chains?
Soldier (voice breaking): Yes… I do…
Princess smiled faintly, warmth in her gaze.
Princess: Then she is free… and so are you.
The soldier sank to his knees, tears streaming.
Soldier (choked): Why… me?
Princess reached out, touching his shoulder lightly, her voice soft but full of meaning:
Princess: Because I saw your heart. Even as a slave, you told her she was not a slave. You promised to protect her, to give her a future… even if it cost you everything.
The soldier drew in a shaky breath, a spark of hope igniting within him. He raised his sword again, strengthened not by fear, but by the gentle belief of someone who truly cared.
Soldier (hesitant, voice trembling): Then… can you give me something to do?
Princess Flora's eyes softened, a warm smile touching her lips.
Princess: Something to do? Well… if you have the courage, you can join me. We'll find the body of the god together.
She extended her hand toward him, calm and reassuring.
Inspired, the soldier gripped his sword tighter. His fear melted into determination.
Soldier (voice firm, resolute): Our Princess… she gives us hope. I can't turn back now.
He surged back into the fight, renewed strength coursing through his veins, as his eyes fell on Princess — still fighting the enemy prince, blood streaking her face. Determination flared within him; he couldn't turn back now.
Everyone started fighting back with there all.
Guinevere's eyes followed John as he rallied the troops. A rare, approving smirk crossed her lips.
Guinevere (thinking, quietly): Huh… he's not just strong. He's fire. Flora truly chose wisely.
She dove back into the fray, cruel and precise. Each strike tore through monsters, leaving a trail of blood. Her grin was almost wicked — a mix of thrill and satisfaction. She moved not just with skill, but with a palpable hunger for the fight, a predator enjoying her dominance.
The battlefield erupted into chaos: monsters roared, soldiers shouted, steel clashed — yet at its center, three figures held the line.
Princess Flora, sword raised, was a beacon of determination; John, eyes blazing, a whirlwind of protective fury; and Guinevere, deadly and merciless, turning fear into opportunity.
Every strike, every shout, every swing had a purpose. They weren't just fighting monsters — they were fighting for their people, for their future, and for the hope that one day the curse would be broken.
Princess noticed him, her gaze softening for just a fraction of a second. Her eyes shimmered, a hint of tears threatening to fall.
But again her eyes sharpens
Princess (thinking): I cant…i cant give up i have to do this…
Princess Flora's grip on her sword tightened, her eyes blazing with determination. She moved like a storm — fast, precise, relentless. Each strike pushed the Prince of Draventhia back, forcing him to defend with all his strength.
Prince (gritting his teeth, sweating): You… you fight like no one I've faced!
Princess spun, slicing through his guard, landing a clean hit across his shoulder. He staggered, a growl escaping his lips. She pressed the advantage, combining elegant footwork with brutal, sharp strikes. Sparks flew as their swords clashed again and again, her determination almost palpable.
Prince (breathing hard, mocking): You… you are stronger than I imagined…
Princess (through clenched teeth, furious): Don't underestimate me!
She launched a series of sweeping attacks, forcing him to dodge and counter constantly. Every time he tried to land a blow, she anticipated it, striking with precision. The Prince's confidence wavered, and sweat dripped down his brow.
Prince (frustrated, angry): You fight with… pure fury!
For a moment, it seemed she might overwhelm him entirely. But in a split second, the Prince feigned a retreat, baiting her forward. As she lunged, he twisted, landing a precise stab to her side and followed with a forceful kick, sending her sprawling across the ground.
Princess gasped, clutching the wound. Blood stained her side as her vision blurred, and she fell to her knees. Her sword slipped from her fingers.
Prince (panting, impressed but cold): So… fierce… yet even the strongest can fall.
Her eyes flickered with anger and pain before darkness claimed her.
Guinevere's eyes widened in shock. John's jaw tightened, equally stunned.
With a roar, John kicked the nearest enemy soldier aside and sprinted forward, determined to reach Princess.
….CHAPTER 10ENDS…