The moment Amaniel's strike landed, something in the air changed.
Aeron's grip on his sword adjusted—subtle, but deliberate. His breathing steadied. His eyes, previously warm with friendly competition, sharpened into something far more dangerous.
Oh.
Amaniel barely had time to process it before Aeron moved.
This time, there was no hesitation. No holding back.
A storm of steel descended upon him.
Clang!
Amaniel barely parried the first strike.
Thwack!
The second grazed his shoulder before he could react.
Aeron wasn't just fast—he was relentless. Every step, every swing, was calculated, pressing forward without mercy. Even with Observant Eye and Echo of Life, Amaniel could only barely keep up—anticipating the attacks but lacking the muscle memory to counter them cleanly.
Then—
A feint.
Aeron's blade flicked left, and Amaniel instinctively raised his guard—
CRACK!
A sharp, stinging impact exploded against his ribs—his blind spot. The one area his stance left open.
Amaniel's teeth clenched. Pain flared, but he swallowed it, his expression never wavering.
"THIRD STRIKE! AERON WINS—3-1!"
The crowd erupted.
But for a fraction of a second, Aeron froze.
'Did I hit him too hard?'
He hadn't meant to strike that hard—it was just instinct. But the way Amaniel's breath hitched for the briefest moment…
He lowered his sword, opening his mouth—
"AND WHAT A VICTORY!"
The announcer girl swooped in, seizing Aeron's wrist and yanking it up in triumph before he could speak. Her grip was ironclad, her smile razor-sharp as she deliberately ignored Amaniel.
"The undisputed king of blades claims another date and probably the heart~!" she crowed, her voice dripping with exaggerated flair. "Or should I say—hearts?" Her gaze flicked meaningfully toward Livia and Emilia.
The crowd roared.
Aeron tried to turn, to say something—but the announcer was already spinning him toward the audience, where a throng of admirers (mostly girls) surged forward, cheering and calling his name.
Amaniel exhaled, rolling his shoulder where the strike had landed.
'So this is how losing feels.'
Honestly, he didn't feel much. No rage, no humiliation. Just… nothing. He didn't expect to win anyway.
But recalling Leroy's face earlier—twisted in shock and disbelief—he supposed it must taste bitter for most.
'Then, I shall do my escape too.'
While the crowd swarmed Aeron, Amaniel melted backward, slipping between bodies with practiced ease. Only a few noticed his departure—
Aeron, whose eyes briefly flicked to where Amaniel had been before he was swallowed by the crowd.
Emilia, who watched with an unreadable expression.
The princess, her gaze mixed between sadness and hesitation.
And finally Zephyr who was watching everything from beginning till the end.
"WELL, WELL!" The announcer girl twirled, her silver ribbon fluttering as she addressed the audience. "Now that our dear Aeron has two lovely ladies by his side—who dares challenge him? A gentleman wanting to steal them both?"
"Are there any girls that wants to join his harem? Or perhaps—" She winked. "A lady who wants to have him to her alone?"
Crowd reacted like those lovestruck idol fans.
Just then a loud but clear voice cut through the murmurs.
"Oh, I'll take him for myself~."
Then—
POP.
One light flickered out.
Aeron's expression froze, his head slowly turning in voice's direction.
Then another light dispersed.
And another.
The announcers froze. The crowd's cheers stuttered into confusion.
"W-What's happening—?"
"What are you guys doing-!"
"N-No, it's not us!"
POP. POP. POP.
Darkness swallowed the hall whole.
Silence.
Then—
A whisper, close enough to stir the hairs on Aeron's neck.
"Found you."
"!"
Aeron whirled around, his pulse hammering in his throat.
The voice.
That voice.
Impossible.
Yet there she was—standing before him in the suffocating darkness, her silhouette unmistakable even in the absence of light.
A woman of devastating beauty, her features carved with the kind of allure that could topple kingdoms. Full lips curved in a familiar, affectionate smile. Eyes like polished amber, gleaming with predatory amusement. The faint scent of night-blooming jasmine—her signature fragrance—wrapped around him like a phantom embrace.
Aeron's fingers clenched around his practice sword, his knuckles bleaching white.
"Vespera."
The name tore from his throat, raw and jagged. A ghost. A nightmare. Her.
She tilted her head, her dark hair cascading over one shoulder. "Aeron, darling," she purred, stepping closer. "You look like you've seen a ghost."
"You are a ghost," he hissed. "You're dead. I saw you—"
"Did you?" Her laugh was a velvet stroke against his nerves. In a blink, she was behind him, her arms slinking over his shoulders, her lips brushing the shell of his ear. "Or did you just wish I was?"
Aeron recoiled, but her grip was iron—warm, real.
N-No way!
His breath hitched.
"I missed you," she whispered, her voice dripping with poisoned honey. "Without me, you must have been so… lonely."
"No," Aeron growled, his voice low and raw. "I have people who love me—and I love them. People who cherish me as I cherish them. Your curse didn't—!"
Vespera's lips curled into a slow, chilling smile.
Then—
A whisper, silk-soft against his ear. "Oh? Then why don't you look?"
His head snapped to the side—
And his blood turned to ice.
There, sprawled across the floor in grotesque stillness, were Emilia and Livia. Their eyes glassy, their skin pallid, their chests unnaturally still. Staring at him. Accusing him.
"N-No…" Aeron's breath hitched. "H-How… They were j-just—"
He lunged forward, desperation clawing at his throat—
A hand seized his wrist, cold as death.
"Where do you think you're going?" Vespera murmured, her voice dripping with mock concern.
Aeron whirled—
And froze.
Because the hall… wasn't the hall anymore.
Walls melting into smoke, the crowd dissolving into shadows. The only things that remained real were the corpses at his feet and the woman standing before him.
Vespera's smile never wavered.
"You remember now, don't you?" she murmured, stepping closer. "That day in the rain. Two of us together."
Aeron's breath came in short, ragged gasps.
Memories surged—
Those damn people, laughing as they beat the maid—his mother.
The rage, white-hot and uncontrollable.
The sword—no, it was Vespera, humming in his mind, whispering promises of power urging him to pay them back.
And then—
The screams.
The blood.
His mother's horrified eyes as she clutched her bleeding arm, staring at him like he was a monster.
Vespera's fingers traced his cheek. "You were just a child. They deserved it. All of them."
"No—" Aeron's voice cracked. "I didn't—I never wanted—!"
"Liar." Her voice was a blade, slipping between his ribs. "You loved it. You loved the power. You loved me. You loved the way they feared you, feared us."
The corpses at his feet twitched.
Emilia's lifeless lips parted. "You'll kill us too."
Livia's fingers curled into claws. "Just like you killed her."
Aeron staggered back, his chest burning.
"I never—"
She leaned closer, lips brushing his ear.
"You did."
"I-I..."
"So, let us become one again."