The training grounds echoed with the sharp clashing of steel. Moonlight bathed the courtyard, casting long shadows as Seraphina and Duke Draven exchanged rapid blows. Sparks danced in the air each time their blades met, a mesmerizing display of skill and precision.
Seraphina exhaled, drawing back, her chest rising and falling steadily. Sweat glistened on her forehead, but her golden eyes remained focused, unwavering.
Draven, his imposing figure calm and composed, lowered his blade slightly. A smirk played on his lips.
"You're improving," he said, voice firm yet approving. "Your movements are sharper. Your reflexes, faster. But—"
He raised his sword slightly, its edge gleaming in the soft glow of the lanterns.
"You're still far from reaching your full potential."
Seraphina's grip on her sword tightened. A familiar fire burned in her gaze.
Draven continued, his tone lighter now. "I think it's time I show you something."
Seraphina's brow furrowed in curiosity. "A spell?" she asked.
Draven chuckled. "No."
Before she could question further, he took a step forward. "It's better if I show you. Attack me."
Seraphina didn't hesitate. She pushed off the ground, her blade flashing as she lunged at him, her form swift and controlled.
And then—
Draven vanished.
A cold shiver ran down Seraphina's spine.
Her instincts flared too late. Before she could react, she felt the cold steel of a blade resting lightly against the side of her neck.
Her breath hitched.
Draven stood behind her, his sword barely touching her skin. His expression was unreadable, but his sharp eyes held a knowing gleam.
Seraphina swallowed. "How…?"
Draven pulled back, lowering his weapon. "I moved at the speed of light," he explained casually, as if what he'd just done wasn't terrifyingly overwhelming.
Seraphina turned to face him, her expression shifting from shock to something deeper—determination. Her eyes glowed with excitement.
"Teach me," she said without hesitation.
Draven nodded approvingly. "Now that you know the name of your blade, it will be easier. But understand this—light magic isn't just about speed."
Seraphina's brows knitted together. "What do you mean?"
Draven sheathed his blade. "Light bends. It deceives. You can make your opponent see what you want them to see. You can control their vision."
Seraphina's lips parted slightly in realization. "So it's not just movement…"
Draven smiled. "Exactly."
Then, without warning, he lunged.
Seraphina's instincts flared—she barely raised her blade in time to parry. The force of the impact sent a shock through her arms, but before she could counterattack—
Draven disappeared again.
A flash of light. A blur of movement.
Then—steel grazed her side.
Seraphina gasped, barely dodging as Draven reappeared at another angle.
"This is the speed you need to master," he said, voice steady even as he moved again—zigzagging unpredictably around her. His silhouette flickered like an illusion, never staying in one place for more than a heartbeat.
Seraphina's eyes darted left, right—too slow. Her body reacted half a second behind.
She clenched her teeth.
"Don't follow me with your eyes," Draven instructed, his voice sharp yet patient. "Follow the light. Let it guide you, be one with the light."
Seraphina took a deep breath.
She shut her eyes.
The world darkened. But instead of silence—she felt it. The shifting presence, the energy in the air, the faint glimmers of light bending around Draven's form.
He moved.
Seraphina turned her head smoothly, tracking him.
Draven's smirk widened. "You're getting the hang of it."
Then—he moved in. Fast. A direct attack.
Seraphina still kept her eyes closed, exhaling softly.
And she struck.
Her blade swung—aimed right at Draven.
But before impact—he vanished again.
Seraphina's breath hitched.
A split second later—steel touched her back.
She stiffened.
Draven's voice was calm. "You're improving, but you still have a long way to go."
Seraphina's fists clenched. She had followed him—but not enough.
Draven pulled back. "Let's go higher."
Before she could react—he disappeared once more.
Seraphina exhaled. She could track him now.
But controlling her own speed? That was a different battle.
She lunged forward—too fast. She passed Draven completely and—
Crash!
She slammed into the stone wall, groaning as dust settled around her.
Draven shook his head, amused. "You can't control your speed yet, it seems."
Seraphina gritted her teeth but nodded.
Draven sheathed his blade. "Keep training. Learn to control it." He turned, walking away. "I'll be back later."
Seraphina straightened. "Yes, Father."
As Draven disappeared into the mansion, Seraphina took a deep breath.
Again.
She pushed off the ground—too fast.
Crash!
Another wall.
She winced. "Damn it…"
---
The Next Morning
Draven returned to the training grounds at dawn. As he stepped onto the field, his sharp gaze caught something.
A blinding light.
The entire arena was enveloped in a radiant glow, a pulsing brilliance that sent shivers through the air. It flickered—then faded, leaving behind a panting figure.
Seraphina stood in the center, her blade still glowing faintly in her grasp. Sweat dripped down her face, her shoulders rising and falling with exhaustion.
She looked up, golden eyes burning with pride.
"I've got the hang of it."
Draven smiled.
"Then let's test it."
He raised his hand.
"Shine—Tsurugi."
Light descended from the heavens.
A sword formed within it—holy, radiant, undeniable. Draven grasped it, twirling it once before pointing it at Seraphina.
Seraphina's heart pounded. She exhaled, setting her stance.
And then—
They vanished.
A storm of light erupted across the sky. The clash of steel echoed through the heavens, too fast for the human eye to follow.
The arena shook. Dust and debris scattered as the sheer force of their movements shattered parts of the stone floor.
They reappeared—only to vanish again.
Flash.
Aerial combat—blades colliding mid-air. Sparks flying.
Flash.
Seraphina twisting her body, narrowly dodging a strike—countering with her own.
Flash.
Draven smirking, effortlessly parrying before kicking her downward.
Seraphina crashed into the ground. The impact cracked the stone beneath her.
But she didn't stay down.
She gritted her teeth, forcing herself up—only for—
Shing!
Draven appeared in front of her.
His blade rested lightly against her collarbone.
Seraphina blinked.
Then—she smiled.
Her vision blurred.
And she collapsed.
Draven caught her before she hit the ground. His sword dissipated into light as he lifted her effortlessly.
As he carried her back to the mansion, he glanced down at her unconscious form, a rare, genuine warmth flickering in his eyes.
"…I'm proud of you."
He stepped into the grand halls of the estate, the soft glow of morning light filtering through the windows.
Tomorrow…
She would shine.