Northern had never tasted defeat so bitter. For the first time in his life, he felt genuinely conflicted.
These nurtured kids—perhaps they had a right to their hurt. They'd endured their own sufferings. Yet the hell that Northern and his peers had been thrown into, and its aftermath, had made those sufferings seem like mere childish whimpers.
But they had a point too... or maybe Northern felt this way because of his own upbringing. His childhood had been good—better than the old world, in fact. It was the one thing he cherished.
Perhaps that was why Kaelan's words stung so deeply. They planted seeds of guilt in his heart.
To compound matters, he now had to face Kaelan's sister.
After Northern had knocked Kaelan unconscious with a swift kick, attendants had carried him from the arena. Now Soraya strode toward Northern, a large box slung across her back.
She halted before him and dropped the box to the ground. A deafening bang echoed throughout the coliseum as the container split open. With fluid grace, Soraya gripped a lithe black rod from within.
She swung it skyward, and the weapon began to transform. By the time it reached its apex, a wicked, sharp scythe blade had emerged, gleaming coldly as it reflected daylight with silvery elegance.
She gripped the death scythe at its base, positioning it above her like an umbrella of destruction.
The sight of her was mesmerizing—sinister yet beautiful, like an angel of death incarnate.
Northern gulped and released the Illusioned sword from his hands, letting it dissipate into sparks that scattered through the air like dying embers.
A small, adorable frown creased Soraya's face, her purple eyes gleaming with intensity.
"What are you doing?... relinquishing your sword?"
Northern met her gaze evenly as he extended his empty hand.
"I plan to face you with everything I've got. So come at me with everything you've got."
Soraya's frown darkened, her expression growing wary. She pushed her right leg slightly forward, bending into a combat stance as the scythe fell—but didn't strike the ground. Her second hand caught the fall by gripping the middle of the shaft, the razor-sharp edge of the blade hovering just above the ground, almost kissing it.
Then she twirled the shaft of the death scythe, gracefully tracing an arc of destruction that stopped in a semicircle above her head. She fixed Northern with one more calculated glare and launched herself forward.
Her speed seemed nothing like Kaelan's at first glance—initially appearing underwhelming...
Only for Northern's eyes to suddenly widen as he vanished from his position the instant Soraya's blade carved through the air where he had stood.
He frowned, thoughts racing.
'What was that...?'
If he didn't possess a teleportation ability, he was certain the young girl's attack would have caught him. She didn't appear as fast as Kaelan... but somehow, she was faster.
Northern felt confusion course through him, but wasn't bothered in the slightest. This was merely another opportunity to emulate her technique.
The girl wasted no time—she shifted instantly and flowed forward again, dashing toward Northern with the grace of a falling blossom.
A sweet, flowery scent trailed in the wake of her movement.
Northern took a powerful leap backward while simultaneously changing his name.
As he landed, he extended his hand with purpose.
Ice spears materialized in the air, each one twisting forward with cold, serene precision. She was charging when the ice spears bombarded her position.
But Soraya moved with flawless precision—her movements vivid and deliberate. She swung the scythe as if wielding silk, dancing gracefully despite her silently blistering speed.
The scythe let out a soft, cold whisper—metal subtly grazing metal—as it cleaved through the ice spears, leaving their separated halves to glisten beautifully beneath the sun's radiance.
Soraya embodied a graceful dance. She rolled through the air, swung the death scythe and brought it down on another spear, effortlessly cleaving it in two. She halted the scythe's momentum with controlled strength, redirecting it to slice through another ice spear descending from above.
In the same fluid motion, she launched herself upward, rolling through the air—grace embodied in her every movement. The ground beneath where she had stood froze solid the moment she soared skyward.
Then she landed on the ground again with perfect poise.
Northern moved his hands with subtle precision.
Ice spears began to jut out of the frozen ground, hunting her as she moved, but she remained elusive—skidding across the icy terrain with masterful control. At certain points, Northern thought she appeared to be ice skating.
It did, indeed, look exactly like that.
Northern continued to observe as she glided across the ice expanse, effortlessly evading the ice spears that erupted from the frozen ground. At intervals, she would launch herself skyward in fluid flips and perfect somersaults.
Even when spears charged toward her mid-flight, her scythe would twirl instantly, cleaving through them with breathtaking precision.
Her movements embodied such profound grace that it seemed as though eloquence itself had taken physical form. A young dark-skinned girl wielding a wicked death scythe, yet radiating the divine presence of an angel... if this world possessed any.
Northern found himself enraptured. But something felt wrong.
He realized he wanted to continue watching her movements. Though he attacked, he felt as though he was merely providing her opportunities to showcase how she would glide, spin, and twirl through the air.
It was like wanting to witness more of a ballet dancer's performance—taking actions only to make the dancer shine brighter, even while ostensibly trying to defeat them.
He felt strangely unsettled, as if he was somehow serving her purpose. It felt as though his attacks were giving her wings to fly.
Northern's brows drew together in a dark line as this peculiar sensation crystallized in his mind.
'...ah, no wonder...'
It dawned on him why she could anticipate his attacks. Soraya was casting a hex on him...
What initially confused Northern was the absence of any notification about copying talent. She hadn't activated any specific ability.
'Or... it could be a passive ability, one that doesn't require explicit activation.'
Something akin to his spatial awareness now—he could expand or retract it at will, but it required no formal activation as such.
This realization meant that Soraya was, in truth, more dangerous and powerful than Kaelan had been.
Northern scowled, the bitter taste of underestimation filling his mouth.
'I underestimated her…'