96. The Duel Part 2

A sharp crack echoed through the sparring grounds as wood met wood, the impact sending a tremor through Marie’s arms. The gathered audience, composed of young knights-in-training and noble heirs, watched with bated breath as the duel unfolded in a way no one had expected.

Benric’s downward strike had been decisive, his wooden sword sweeping Marie’s bow from her grasp, sending it clattering onto the ground.

Victory should have been his.

Yet, just as he thought the duel was over, he felt a cool, blunt point press against the side of his neck.

His breath hitched.

In the blink of an eye, Marie had drawn an arrow—not to fire, but to wield like a dagger, pressing its tip against his vital point. At the same time, his own wooden blade hovered inches from her stomach, ready to strike.

A heavy silence settled over the training grounds before the Knight Captain raised his hand.

“The match ends in a tie!” he declared.

The stunned audience erupted in murmurs, some exchanging baffled glances while others debated the fairness of the outcome.

“It can’t be a tie!” a young noble protested. “His Highness had his sword at her stomach, while she just held an arrow! There’s no way an arrow used by hand could have killed him!”

The Knight Captain remained unfazed, his expression calm and authoritative as he turned toward the young noble.

“According to the information I received prior to the match, Lady Marie typically fights with steel-tipped arrows.” His voice carried a weight of finality. “Had this been an actual battle, that arrow—sharpened and reinforced—would have been more than capable of piercing the vital point. In a real fight, neither would have survived the exchange.”

Benric let out a slow breath, taking a step back as the tension drained from his shoulders. Though he was a formidable swordsman—one of the best among his peers—he had no complaints.

He had always admired warriors with honor, those who accepted their shortcomings and sought to improve. He aspired to become a knight of Hero Luminous’ caliber, and part of that meant acknowledging when an opponent was truly his equal.

“I agree with the Captain,” Benric said at last, lowering his sword. “This match is a draw.”

A moment of stunned silence followed his words before Grace broke into laughter.

She practically skipped onto the stage, throwing her arms around Marie in sheer excitement.

“Oh, my goddess! I didn’t think you could actually beat him!” Grace exclaimed, pulling back to beam at her. “Do you even realize what this means?! You’re one of the few people in our age group to match Benric in combat!”

Marie, still catching her breath, managed a small, humble smile. “I just followed what Master taught me.”

“Ugh, don’t be so modest!” Grace rolled her eyes. “This is huge!”

As the knights-in-training and nobles processed the outcome of the duel, some with admiration, others with quiet resentment, the energy of the training ground remained high. Even though the match had ended, Marie’s reputation had already begun to shift. No longer just an unknown disciple of Ravenna, she was now a contender, a warrior of note in the eyes of the court.

West Wing, Imperial Palace – Nightfall

After spending the rest of the evening celebrating and chatting with Grace, Marie finally returned to the West Wing, exhaustion settling into her bones.

The imperial palace was quiet at this hour, save for the occasional footsteps of patrolling guards and the distant sound of the wind rustling through the palace gardens. The halls, illuminated by soft golden lanterns, cast dancing shadows along the marble floors.

Marie rubbed her tired eyes, feeling the lingering sensation of faint magical energy fading from her irises. The thrill of her victory over Benric still coursed through her, as did the warmth of her newfound friendship with Grace.

Yet, beneath that pride, there was a flicker of unease.

“I cheated.” The thought gnawed at her. She had won using her Saintess powers.

It wasn’t an outright violation of the rules since no one knew about it—but deep down, Marie couldn’t shake the feeling that the victory didn’t truly belong to her. Among the many divine blessings powers she had inherited from the Twelve Gods, one allowed her to perceive the world in slowed time, making even the swiftest movements appear sluggish in her sight.

That was how she had countered Benric’s strike, how she had moved at just the right moment to turn the duel into a draw.

“Master forbade me from revealing that I’m the Saintess…” Marie reminded herself. No one can know. Not yet.

She sighed, pushing the thoughts aside as she neared her chambers. But just as she was about to step inside, movement caught her attention.

Marie paused, glancing down the dimly lit hallway. A figure emerged from Ravenna’s audience chamber, his regal posture unmistakable even in the soft glow of the lanterns.

Duke Morgen.

The nobleman adjusted his embroidered cloak as he stepped into the corridor, his boots clicking lightly against the marble floor. From where she stood, Marie could just barely make out the conversation drifting from the doorway.

"With this, all the preparations are finally set. Now we just have to wait for everything to unfold, Your Highness." Duke Morgen’s deep voice carried a weight of certainty, tinged with quiet urgency.

Ravenna, still lingering in the doorway, gave him a satisfied nod."Just make sure your men are in top condition when the day arrives."

Duke Morgen bowed slightly in response. "I will, Your Highness. We’ll meet again at Princess Serena’s wedding."

Marie’s brow furrowed. “Preparations? What are they planning?” thought in her mind.

Before she could dwell on it, Duke Morgen’s sharp gaze landed on her. His expression remained unreadable, but the moment he recognized her, he offered a polite nod.

“Oh, you must be the disciple. Good evening to you, young lady.”

Marie, recalling her etiquette lessons, quickly bowed in return. "Same to you, Duke Morgen."

With that, the Duke strode past her, disappearing down the corridor.

Marie turned back to Ravenna, who still stood at the threshold of her audience chamber, watching her with an unreadable expression.

The moment their eyes met, Marie’s earlier thoughts vanished, replaced by excitement as she skipped forward eagerly.

“Master! I won a duel today! You won’t believe who my opponent was!”

Ravenna’s lips curled into an amused smile, though her deep dark eyes remained as sharp as ever.

“Now, now,” she said with a small chuckle. “I can hear all about it later. It’s late—you should rest. You’ll need your strength for the next two days.”

Marie blinked. "For what?"

Ravenna leaned slightly against the doorframe, arms crossed.

“I’ll tell you what I’m scheming once you’re ready to participate. If you’re not prepared in two days, you won’t be coming to the wedding.”

Marie’s excitement turned into a pout.

“I will be ready!” she declared, puffing out her cheeks in defiance.

Ravenna let out a soft chuckle, ruffling Marie’s hair before turning back into her chamber.

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