Chapter 21: Chapter 18: Ballroom Beatdown 2

 

The nobles in the room broke into feverish conversation, invigorated by an unexpected source of gossip and entertainment.

“Stop this farce.” Lysander growled. “Does the delegation from Fernan have no shame?” He flared his aura, causing the people standing closest to him to fall to their knees under a suffocating pressure. Guards nervously stood with their swords and spears half brandished. 

Amidst the palpable tension, a nobleman stepped out of the crowd, smoothing over his ruffled clothes. He bore a shrewd appearance, with narrow eyes and dark hair creating a cunning countenance.

“Please calm down, my king, is this not a simple quarrel? There’s no need to make this into a bigger mess.” 

“I don’t recall asking for your opinion, duke.” Lysander’s gaze sharpened. The man returned a simpering smile.

“I’m sincerely sorry for my insolence, sire, but considering how our princess took the initiative to insult and challenge his highness Matthias, then weren’t we the ones who took things a step too far first?” 

Another nobleman stepped up while wiping sweat from his brow.

“I side with Duke Bregan, your majesty. Putting the blame on the good prince would be an insult to our guests, not to mention a diplomatic issue with the Empire.” 

“You’re more outspoken than usual today, Marquis.” The other man shied away from his rebuke. However, new voices of agreement rose from around the ballroom in support of their suggestion. The duke’s expression morphed into a satisfied smirk, which quickly faltered when Lysander once again let out his pressure. The upstart nobles fell silent under the full weight of their incensed lord’s magical might.

“You all forget your place. Remember who you’re talking to, and that I can— Guh!” A sharp heel grinded into his foot, immediately dispelling the tense atmosphere. The entire room breathed a collective sigh of relief. 

The previously domineering man began to rigidly turn towards his very, very unhappy wife.

“W-what’s wrong, honey?”

“Honey?” Elenoa’s smile didn’t reach her eyes. “Since when did you learn to call me such sweet names in front of others?” Lysander’s face drained of all color, his bright ice blue hair seeming at that moment to quickly fade into an aging gray. 

“My. Dear. Husband. Could you restrain yourself, please?” 

“...I’m sorry.”

Facepalming as the defeated man drifted away with a confused Griselda following after him, she sighed in exasperation. Even if they were just “acting”, somehow she felt that if it wasn’t for her timely intervention, some of their guests may have gotten hurt. 

Elenoa turned towards the center of her current troubles. “Prince Matthias, do you accept my daughter’s request for a duel, considering this as a spar between two peers?”

”Why would I need to be worried over something so meaningless? We can do it right here.” Not even bothering to meet her eyes, the boy replied. A vein popped on Elenoa’s temple, but she schooled her expression to let her anger continue to simmer in silence.

“Christiana, do you agree with this setting as the challenger?”

“Yes, but wouldn’t this be an inappropriate location? This is a banquet hall with a lot of people, and we’re going to be fighting with our spirits.”

“Don’t worry.” The woman smiled. “Let your mother show you what she can do.”

Raising her hand to the air, a complex mandala magic circle materialized from her palm, Her dark blue hair began to sway.  

“Warden of old, guardian of the sanctuary, lend me your aid. Bound Space” Elenoa chanted, light blooming around her hand. 

[By the Old Gods, don’t tell me you’re using my power to create a playground for your brat.] An old curmudgeon complained in a rumbling voice as the magic began to take hold.

Oh please, Grisphalt. You’re already stuck in that forsaken dungeon of yours, so just move your old, withering bones and help me for once.

[...You’ve gotten cheekier since you last called for me. Fine. But be grateful that I can’t leave this blasted Domain to beat some sense into you.]

An arcane spark carved a thin line onto the marble floor, where a semi-opaque barrier ran up to the ceiling. In barely a few seconds, a makeshift arena appeared in the center of the banquet hall, with enough room to sprint freely from one end to the other. People clamored noisily over the show of power, while some others curiously inspected the structure that appeared out of thin air. 

[It’s done. Now leave me alone. I have to handle the latest group of adventurers.]

Go easy on them.

[Hmph.]

In a corner of the room, seated on a balcony overlooking the venue, Lysander’s expression darkened.

Fernan’s fifth prince had been more aggressive than they expected. All the better, since they had originally planned to incite an incident themselves. But while Elenoa was only supposed to “placate” him before the country’s nobles, the situation now seemed to be taking a different turn. Stroking his chin in thought, his gaze sharpened at his wife channeling the labyrinth lord’s energy.

Was it risky to be showing this power to all the officials? Likely so. But it seemed that Elenoa no longer intended to just collect favor with the aristocracy. She planned on giving Christiana a stage to prove herself once and for all in front of the eyes of the world and lose the moniker of the “useless princess”. 

“Aren’t you the least bit worried for her highness, sire?” Griselda looked worriedly at the prepared stage.

“You of all people should know how well versed my wife is in combat, Griselda. She didn’t earn that old wraith’s respect for nothing. If she trusts my daughter’s ability, then we can only put our faith in her decision.” He wasn’t going to interfere with the tough love shown by a mother to her daughter; the palace’s gem studded couches weren’t all that ideal for sleep. Looking over the railing on top of the balcony, he could feel the presence of two mana sources in the room. 

One, a malevolent force that reminded him of when he battled Fernan’s emperor, albeit without the same potency. The boy, Matthias, was royalty of no doubt. But still only a fledgling. The other mana signature spelled out the characteristics of a gathering storm, with bits of airborne static and whistling winds marking its entrance. 

He leaned forward, clasping his hands while smiling, anticipating the sight of those upstart nobles dropping their mouths to the floor.

 

_______________________________________

 

“Oi, you ok?” In the midst of the commotion, Chris nudged Bertram in the side after he rose back up. He swore, nursing his elbow from where it collided with the floor. 

“Yeah, I’m good. Are you sure you want to do this?” His look of concern was a surprise to her.

“Huh?”

“Your reputation right now isn’t exactly stellar, and this is causing such a big scene…”

“Don’t worry about it.” She replied, smiling.

“What?” 

“I have my own pride. I’m going to teach this kid a lesson for trying to walk all over me in my own home. It might be a bit difficult, though.” 

“You don’t sound too sure of yourself.”

“He did knock you on your ass pretty easily. Given your strength, I’m not going to underestimate him.” She nodded to herself. He stared at her like she had grown a second head.

“My spirit was being annoying. I got distracted.” It was true that an impervious, disembodied voice berated him for almost the entire day. He could even feel the Eyes acting up again, urging him to conjure Albiel and cut down the boy in front of him. It took tremendous restraint for him to remember to hold back.

“Sure, sure. Just let me handle this one, ok? A knight talking shit to another country’s royalty without consequences —that kinda stuff only happens in fantasy. I’ll protect you, so don’t worry.”

“Shouldn’t it be the other way around? And can you even fight in that?” He remarked, pointedly looking over her attire. She was still wearing her dress from earlier in the evening.

“It’s breathable, light, and I’ll look badass beating someone up in it. Now just shut up and watch the show.” She turned around, but not before Bertram put a hand on her shoulder. A warm feeling spread from their point of contact, a foreign source of mana spreading throughout her body in a protective membrane.

“I can at least do this, right? Be careful. Something’s not right about him. I would take his attitude down a notch if I could, but I would probably be executed. So good luck.”

“...Thanks.”

Seeing Christiana walking away with a look of determination, he sighed.

“Are you satisfied now, lord angel?”

[You are completely and utterly incompetent. Not only did you fall to such a state in front of your future liege, you let her fight for your honor in your stead. Pathetic.]

“It’s not my fate to serve her.” His brows furrowed.

[And yet you think it your responsibility to keep her safe from harm?]

“Shut up. This and that are two different things.” 

[You say this, but your actions speak otherwise, mortal.]

 

_______________________________________

 

“You finally stopped talking with the peasant, I see.” Matthias sneered while chuckling. 

“Better than looking like a pompous idiot.” Chris fired back. 

“I’m going to enjoy putting you in your place.” His eyes narrowed. The two of them entered the arena through a gap in Elenoa’s barrier that closed shortly after. As a flame war veteran, she wanted to retort, but was interrupted by an announcement from Elenoa.

“Matthias, fifth prince of the Fernan Empire. Christiana Lapis Lorien, sole princess of the Lorien Kingdom. Swear an oath at this moment to Klet, aspect of honor and oath, that none of you shall take the other’s life in this spar between peers. The duel shall end when one of you either forfeits, or is no longer capable of fighting.” The boy looked hesitant, but complied. Christiana soon followed.

“I, Matthias Vie Fernan, swear on my soul, the eternal bond that connects me to heaven, to follow those rules of combat. May the gods smite me if I forsake this promise.”

“I, Christiana Lapis Lorien, also swear on my soul, the eternal bond that connects me to heaven, to follow those rules of combat. May the gods smite me if I forsake this promise.”

[Tip: Do not violate an oath to Klet. Consequences include, but are not limited to: immediate smiting, being barred from all temples and holy grounds, and annulment of spiritual contract.] 

Got it, boss. Chris halfheartedly replied.

“Duelists at the ready!” Elenoa called out. The two adolescents stood on opposite ends of the makeshift arena, sliding into combat ready stances and piercing each other with their glares. Mana trickled through every capillary in her body, the sum total of her mind, nerves, and muscles ready to spring into action at any moment. 

System, activate battle diagnostics.

[Affirmative.]

“Begin!”

It only took a split second. 

An ear splitting bang of pulverized air shook the ears of the surrounding observers. When their senses finally caught up with the battle before them, they saw two fists colliding in an uneasy and heavily contested stalemate, with both Chris and Matthias fighting for dominance over the other. 

“The person who strikes first decides the flow of the battle.” Matthias grinned savagely. “You’ve put up an adequate response, but the rest of this battle will be over before you can summon whatever pathetic spirit you have. You aren’t worthy of facing me. This petty duel will end with your loss.”

“Who said I needed my spirit to fight you?” A crack tore through the air at the same moment that Chris’s forehead collided with his. He stumbled, cradling a bloody nose and staggering to regain his bearings.

[Alert: Signs of minor damage to cranium and legs from previous exchange. Begin assisted self-healing process?] 

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Please do. A portion of her strength was sapped away from her as the System began its process of healing. In truth, her body really hadn’t fully recovered since leaving Amphitrite’s Domain. She needed every bit of help possible since the real fight would begin in the next moments. Just in time, since her opponent quickly started assailing her. 

“Stupid girl!” A jab towards her sternum. “If you just accepted my offer!” A punch directed to her ribs. “Then you wouldn’t get hurt!” A kick aimed at her shin. Chris blocked or dodged all his attacks by only a hair’s width. In response to her opponent’s aggression, she grabbed onto one of his wrists, her green eyes emitting a cold sheen. 

“I’ve been holding back, you know.” She tripped one of his legs and pushed his back with her other hand, disrupting his center of gravity. With a resounding crash, Matthias fell to the ground in a wretched, yelling heap.

“What? How?” he huffed. 

“Isn’t it obvious?” Chris leisurely stood over him. Where before there was coldness, disdain now bled into her voice. 

“You just picked the wrong time.” She raised a leg, the channeled mana being discharged in streaks of blue and green energy. “And you pissed off the wrong person.” She brought her foot down, earning a scream of pain from her opponent.

“You bitch!” Matthias’s expression twisted into one of utter fury. “You’ll regret this... my father… my brothers! They won’t let this off. Not just you, but your entire bottom feeding, garbage family and your sorry excuse of a nation, the Empire will burn it all down!” 

A crackling blue and green lightning briefly lit up the arena, reflecting a flash of anger barely contained within Chris’s body.

“Still not learning? It’s fine, defeat is the best teacher.” She paid back every insult with a barrage of strikes, each one sending the full weight of her fury onto the foreign prince’s battered body like falling lead. Switching from right to left in gruesome alternation, her fists spared no effort and no mercy to wreak havoc.  

“What.” Thud.

“Did.” Crack.

“You.” The splatter of blood. 

“Say.” The sickening crunch of bone.

Two bludgeons flying in tandem, creating sickening sounds on each collision. A one sided show of force that sent shivers down the backs of those watching. Two hands gripped onto the boy’s collar, eliciting a groan when they lifted him up. 

“...about my family?” She slammed him back down. Her vision was dyed in rage. With mana enhanced senses, she both heard and felt the thundering of blood flooding into her limbs and head. The adrenaline. Her erratic breathing. But more noticeable than all those things was the sheer rapture she felt down to the marrow of her bones and the very core of her soul. 

It was.. exquisite and hard to describe. An unfamiliar, but intoxicating rush that made her every muscle twitch in excitement.

Another fist raised in preparation to strike. Matthias shrunk back in fear.

She stopped. The nobles, seeing everything that had occurred through the semi transparent barrier, muttered to each other about ruthlessness and dishonorable conduct. Chris froze in growing confusion, kneeling next to the whimpering boy. 

What am I doing? 

Observing her surroundings, she saw Bertram, his mien one of unnerved silence. Her mother and father shared faces of grim approval. Griselda had shock plastered on her expression. All of them saw, for the first time, the hidden side of the princess whose deep seated lust for violence had just been brought out. No, perhaps it was always there. An ugly inner beast of unbridled brutality. 

“Shit.” She quietly swore to herself, spitting out a curse as if expelling a demon from her body.

“You’re just a kid.” She sighed before breathing in deeply once more. As her head began to cool down, she realized just how far she had taken their duel. “Er, you’re still alive, aren’t you?” When Matthias failed to respond, she bent down to check for a pulse. It would be bad if he kicked the bucket, for obvious reasons.

Perhaps due to her position, she was unaware of the moment that the boy’s shadow started to writhe, or when his irises gradually turned red. First in barely perceptible motions, the shade grew into life in the same gut wrenching, horrifying manner as a waking monster. Her instincts noticed that something was wrong before the rest of her body did. After repeated encounters with creatures of the abyss, her hairs began to stand on end every time she was near one.

Without warning, a rigid claw swiped upwards, and the air screamed through its passage. There was the sound of something shattering, and golden particles scattered onto the floor alongside drops of freshly spilled blood.

[Alert: Signs of major damage to side of torso, recommending immediate medical attention. Current mana reserves are not enough to supplement recovery.] 

Chris staggered back, holding her side where scarlet was blooming at an alarming pace. Bertram’s barrier had bought her just enough time to dodge, but not fully escape, an attack aimed for her heart. 

“Grraahh!” Matthias’s shadow coalesced around him, taking shape into talons on his arms that were colored in a darkness absorbing all other light around it. His green bowl cut hair rose from the exertion of magical pressure. Veins extruded from his skin, and his breath drew in a rasping growl. Dark fog rose into the air within Elenoa’s barrier, drawing the area into cloudy obscurity.

Her gaze turned solemn.

“Did you sell your soul to the devil? That looks more like a possession than a contract.” 

“Don’t joke around! This power is something that I rightfully acquired!” He charged towards her. “Be engulfed by the abyss!” he roared out, throwing a punch towards his unarmed opponent. More shadowy aura spread from him acting as the center, a pervading miasma that filled up the arena.

Chris jumped out of the way, wincing at the pain coming from her bleeding torso. She evaded another lunging set of claws, before hastily drawing her guard up to block a punch aimed at the center of her chest. Despite this, she fell back with the wind knocked out of her. 

[Alert: Signs of damage to ribs in upper torso.]

[Tip: Try evasion?]

“Kugh!” She ignored the pain to focus on drawing mana to slowly heal her wounds with each breath. Her self-healing could only revitalize her enough to prevent her from bleeding out. They had to end this quickly. But by their oath to the gods, the duel wouldn’t end until either of them surrendered, or was made unable to fight. Despite the pain, she felt her barely smothered indignation flare into a roaring rage.There was no choice, she had to buy time to summon a spirit.

Matthias, or rather, whatever was possessing him, laughed maniacally as he continued to claw at her like a feral animal. She tanked the few hits she couldn’t dodge, suffering gashes that barely missed vitals. When he finally let his guard down for a more powerful swipe, she struck, twisting her body to kick him away when he least expected it. 

System, quickly.

[Processing…]

Buying a few precious moments, Chris closed her eyes and withdrew to the outskirts of her soulscape, where time slowed into a crawl. Arching from the cliffside, the chains that connected her soul to her contracted spirits rose up to the sky, where they were surrounded by immaterial ether. 

Let’s go with you. Scanning them individually, she chose a bond that glowed faintly gray, which grew into dazzling silver radiance at her touch. Christiana Lapis Lorien’s experience of progression, battle, and triumph flooded into the forefront of her mind. Techniques earned through years of steady honing and practice slid into her mind, like long forgotten memories dredged up from the depths of her consciousness. 

The familiar concepts of nobility, duty, and honor ingrained themselves to her soul. She chose Raisendel Etren, the elf spirit who graced her in a previous life, the same Raison D'être which was her reason for living, and her guiding light. A beautiful female voice began to chant within her mind.

[With our convictions and minds as one, let us vanquish the vile, and shield the downtrodden.]

She opened her eyes back in the real world, where not even a moment had passed. While Matthias drew forth ominous black claws, she flourished a rapier surrounded by an inviolable aura of sacred majesty. Preternatural strength flooded her veins, and her senses dialed up to a level where she could easily see the dust in the air. To the awestruck spectators, this summoning appeared as a beacon of light in a sea of darkness.

A powerful gust scattered the fog, revealing Chris who, however bloodied, stood defiantly in the midst of swarming shadow. With a swing of her blade, a more potent gale completely decimated the miasma in the arena. The two combatants met eyes in a wordless clash of Wills. Matthias was the first to break this silence. 

“You’re finished!”

He sprinted forward before lunging to tear the sword from her grasp. In a series of manic motions, his bloody talons clashed with her rapier’s steel.

Holding Raisendel in one hand and assuming a fencing pose, she rapidly thrust the blade to ward him off. 

He laughed, eyes warped in a dark, murky red slowly descending into bright crimson madness. The demon, it seemed, was taking over. It stalked forward, new shadows blurring it’s limbs. With a swipe of a hand it sent a crescent of demonic energy at her. 

She moved to block the attack, but noticed how it began to absorb her blood on the floor instead, before returning back to its creator. She stepped back warily.  

“So this is the blood of Lorien.” The creature possessing Matthias gave an unsettling grin, licking his lips. The unstable energy around him pulsed ominously, rising in several degrees of magnitude. “Such delightful power. My mistress will be pleased.”

She was barely able to react to his sudden charge, the resulting collision of which pushed her back several steps. Chris fed more mana into Raisendel, assuming the stance for a skill that she’d performed countless times in her past life as Christiana. It was a movement that channeled all her energy, momentum, and soul into one strike. She angled the rapier for one thrust that would go straight and true.

[You mustn’t! You aren’t in the right condition to be using my power at that stage! Your Will isn’t—] Raisendel warned, but the spirit’s protests went either unheard. Chris ignored the voice of reason in her head. This boy had insulted her and her family. Even if he was unwittingly possessed by a demon, it meant that he was already a bad person to begin with. He accepted this battle. He chose his terms. He should be prepared to meet whatever fate awaited him. 

He deserved this.

Chris fell into a trance, and her eyes swirled and raged with the colors of a tempest. The words of the knight captain came to her in a moment of clarity. With the power of a spirit finally at her fingertips, wouldn’t it be possible to do what she couldn’t do before?

Relax your posture, draw more power from the earth into your legs, and keep that momentum going. 

A stream of mana welled up within her, and she channeled it all to flow from her body to the edge of the rapier’s blade.

When the energy is about to leave, pass it through.

Her sword formed a high pitched whine that continued to gain volume. Surging gales gathered along its edge. 

“First Form of the Righteous Wind...” She gripped her weapon tighter in preparation to strike. When its cry reached a crescendo, everything went silent, as if all living things failed to draw breath in those precious seconds.

“Rending Retribution.” She thrust forward.

The power concentrated on the rapier’s tip roared forward with unstoppable force, a piercing cone of destruction that threatened to tear everything in its path asunder.

The possessed prince screamed, stomping on the ground to send a troop of dark shadows that blocked the gale’s onslaught. Even then, the writhing mass barely served to even hinder its way. 

At that moment, she saw the demonic energy around Matthias completely dissipate, condensing into a small shadow that smiled evilly at her before fleeing back to its abyssal origin. In place of his previously crazed outburst, confusion and disbelief now dominated the expressions on the prince’s face. Like a deer in headlights, he couldn’t muster up any motion, not even to put up his guard. 

“W-Wait, I forfeit.” He uttered.

“Christiana! Stop your attack! He’s surrendered!” Bertram shouted out, slamming his hand against the barrier. A team of guards scrambled to get in between the two members of royalty, but Elenoa’s arena wall stood in their way. The queen in question looked troubled. 

The howling mana left its mark of devastation across all the ground it covered. Spectators looked on in growing dread. Just as it was about to engulf the hapless prince, she drew back her sword arm and plunged the rapier into the ground. As abruptly as it was born, the mini hurricane dissipated into a less strong breeze. Bertram breathed a sigh of relief and let his arm fall back to his side, having acted in time to prevent the worst case scenario from happening. Despite this, he looked warily at Chris, whose spirit remained materialized in her hand. 

Matthias’s soulless eyes rolled up to the back of its head. The fifth prince of Fernan fell to the ground, having fainted from shock..

Chris looked at herself. The evening dress that Griselda painstakingly tailored for her was now in tatters, not even in a shadow of its former glory. A chorus of stinging pain cried out from the multitude of cuts and scrapes on her body. 

Her surroundings were bleached with fear. People averted their gazes. She met the stony stares of her father and mother, and saw the conflicting emotions her only friend faced her with as he ran towards her. She noticed that the barrier had fallen, leaving her well exposed to those outside. 

[It looks like you aren’t ready yet.] Raisendel muttered grimly.

[Alert: Detecting widespread internal damage from rampaging mana flow. Performing emergency measures.]

[Tip: Do not overestimate yourself.] 

“Urk… urreh…” Blood spewed from her mouth, flowing in a dark waterfall down her chin. Her spirit’s material form shattered, leaving a cloud of glittering shards that simultaneously dissolved into wisps of aether. She heard screaming. Lysander shouted for everyone to stay calm and called for guards to usher them back into the lobby hall. 

Chris barely felt the impact when her knees met the ground. And before her forehead could meet the cold, hard floor, she saw multiple hands reach to cup her face. 

In her blurry vision, she saw the people she’d gotten to know and love. Lysander took the effort to smile reassuringly at her, albeit without any of it reaching his eyes. Elenoa had tears running down her face, and she clutched her daughter in trembling hands while muttering apologies. Edward barked out orders to shaken guards while James appeared to analyze the remaining mana residue, while casting worried glances towards his sister

She was happy. When did they come back? 

Then she was mortified. Did they see me fight in this state?

Catching a glimpse of their horror stricken faces, she chuckled weakly.

“Sorry for the trouble.” She slumped.

“““Christiana!””” they shouted in unison. But, lacking strength to answer them, she instead greeted the beckoning call of oblivion.