Sparring

The morning sunlight in the courtyard was wonderful.

Ophelia stood in the center of the clearing, having changed into her knight's formal uniform.

Her long golden hair was tied into a high ponytail, shimmering with a faint luster under the sun and swaying gently with her movements.

With her hand resting on the hilt of her sword, her entire temperament transformed in an instant.

She was no longer the wife who quietly ate breakfast at the dining table and would occasionally flush at the tips of her ears from Klein's praise; she was a knight of the battlefield, the first knight of the empire.

That sharp, piercing aura made the air in the courtyard seem to congeal slightly.

Raymond stood opposite her, having removed his steward's coat to reveal a black shirt underneath.

His hand also rested on his sword hilt, his gaze becoming razor-sharp.

As an old steward who had seen many formidable figures, he was well aware of how terrifying the lady before him was.

But because of that, he had to give it his all.

Only by witnessing her strength with his own eyes could he truly feel at ease letting his master travel to that dangerous place.

Klein sat on a bench at the edge of the courtyard, holding a cup of tea.

"Begin," he said, his tone relaxed.

Ophelia nodded.

Raymond also nodded.

In the next second, both of them moved simultaneously.

The sound of blades leaving their scabbards exploded in the air, crisp and sharp.

Raymond's sword was fast—so fast its trajectory was almost invisible.

His footwork was steady, each step landing in the most optimal position as the tip of his blade pointed directly at Ophelia's throat.

These were lethal sword techniques meant for killing, not hollow moves for performance.

Every strike carried the experience he had accumulated over countless life-and-death struggles, delivered with cunning angles and precise force.

Ophelia leaned to the side, the blade grazing past her neck.

Her counterattack was equally swift, the tip of her sword lunging straight for Raymond's heart.

Her movements were clean and efficient, without a single wasted pause.

Raymond retreated, his blade parrying the blow, and the sound of clashing metal echoed through the courtyard.

Sparks flew between the two, exceptionally dazzling in the morning light.

The sword styles of both were concise, devoid of superfluous movements; it seemed every strike was intended to end the opponent.

Klein took a sip of tea, his eyes watching without blinking.

He could see that Raymond's swordsmanship was seasoned, a set of skills honed through innumerable life-and-death battles.

Every strike carried a steady rhythm, like an experienced hunter testing the weaknesses of his prey.

But Ophelia's swordsmanship was even purer.

There were no unnecessary probes or flashy transitions—only the most direct attacks and the most precise defenses.

Her sword was fast, but it wasn't a blind speed; it was an instinctive reaction formed after countless hours of training.

It was as natural as breathing.

Raymond's sword lunged toward her shoulder, but she sidestepped to avoid it, simultaneously slashing back toward Raymond's wrist.

Raymond withdrew his sword, took half a step back, and lunged again.

Ophelia parried, the blades colliding and sending sparks flying.

Their figures blurred as they crossed paths in the courtyard, sword light flashing as their speed increased.

The fallen leaves on the ground were swept up by the wind from their blades, dancing in the air.

Klein set down his teacup, his gaze becoming serious.

He could see that Raymond was beginning to struggle.

Ophelia's swordsmanship was too steady—so steady that no opening could be found.

Every one of Raymond's attacks was easily neutralized by her, while every one of her counterattacks forced Raymond to respond with his full strength.

This feeling was like fighting against an insurmountable wall.

Sweat began to bead on Raymond's forehead.

His breathing became labored, and the speed of his blade began to slow.

A sense of unspeakable shock welled up in his heart.

He had killed countless opponents in the underground colosseum and had traveled the continent with his master's father, encountering all kinds of powerful experts.

Yet, the strength of the lady before him still exceeded his imagination.

Ophelia remained calm, her golden eyes showing no ripples of emotion.

Her sword lunged toward Raymond's chest, and though Raymond parried, his blade trembled slightly from the impact.

He took a step back and took a deep breath.

"It seems I have no choice but to use battle qi first," he said with a hint of a wry smile.

He had originally thought that by relying on skill and experience, he could at least hold his own against the madam for a while longer.

But reality was cruel.

Ophelia stopped her attack and stood in place, the tip of her sword pointing toward the ground.

"Very well," she said, her tone calm.

Her golden eyes looked at Raymond without contempt or pride, only a sense of pure earnestness.

Raymond closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

In the next second, a faint light began to radiate from his body.

This was battle qi, a cultivation system in this world similar to magic.

The light was vigorous, flowing around his body like morning mist, enough to enhance his speed and strength by more than a level.

He opened his eyes, his gaze becoming even sharper.

"Here I come," he said.

Klein narrowed his eyes, observing the flow of battle qi on Raymond's body with great interest.

Ophelia nodded.

Light also began to emanate from her body.

But that light was completely different from Raymond's.

Raymond's battle qi was a faint white, gentle like morning mist.

Ophelia's battle qi was golden, as dazzling as sunlight.

No, it wasn't just dazzling.

That golden light carried a sense of pressure, as if the sun itself had descended into the courtyard.

The surrounding air distorted slightly because of this power.

Klein drew in a sharp breath.

He could feel that Ophelia's battle qi was far stronger than Raymond's—they weren't even in the same league.

"Is this the strength of the empire's first knight?" he murmured to himself, a flash of wonder in his eyes.

Raymond felt it too.

His expression became solemn, and his grip on his sword tightened.

Cold sweat slid down from his forehead.

This kind of power had already exceeded the realm of ordinary understanding.

In the next second, the two moved again.

Their speed this time was more than twice as fast as before.

Raymond's sword lunged at Ophelia's heart, his blade wrapped in white battle qi, carrying a whistling sound that broke the air.

The air was torn apart by the blade, producing a sharp ring.

Ophelia leaned to the side, the blade grazing her clothing.

Her counterattack was just as fast, the tip of her sword lunging straight for Raymond's throat.

Golden battle qi flowed along her blade, carrying a scorching heat.

Raymond parried, but his blade was knocked back by the vibration.

He retreated three steps, his expression becoming even more grave.

The web of his thumb felt numb, and an ache spread through his arm.

Ophelia did not pursue him; she simply stood her ground, her sword tip still pointed at the earth.

Her breathing remained steady, and her golden eyes showed no fluctuations.

It was as if the exchange just now was merely a warm-up for her.

Raymond took a deep breath and charged again.

This time his attack was even more ferocious, his blade lunging repeatedly, each strike carrying the light of battle qi.

He abandoned defense, choosing to attack in the most aggressive manner possible.

Because he knew that if this continued, he would only lose more miserably.

But Ophelia remained calm.

With a gentle sweep of her blade, she neutralized all of Raymond's attacks.

Her movements were concise, without wasted steps or flashy moves—only the most precise parries and direct counterattacks.

Every parry was perfectly timed, and every counterattack forced Raymond to give his absolute all.

Raymond's sword lunged for her shoulder; she sidestepped to evade it while simultaneously slashing back at Raymond's wrist.

Raymond withdrew his sword, but Ophelia's blade still grazed his own, leaving a shallow mark.

He retreated, his expression becoming even more strained.

His breathing grew more hurried, and sweat from his forehead dripped onto the ground.

Klein set down his teacup, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

He could tell that Raymond was doing his absolute best.

But Ophelia was still at ease.

Her swordsmanship was too steady—steady to the point of despair.

Every one of Raymond's attacks was effortlessly handled, while every one of her counterattacks pushed Raymond to his limits.

This wasn't a gap in skill; it was a gap in power.

Absolute power.

It was like the difference between an adult and a child; no matter how hard the child tried, they could not cross that chasm.

Raymond charged once more, lunging repeatedly with all his strength.

White battle qi burned on his blade, emitting a dazzling light.

But Ophelia simply swung her sword once, and all his attacks were dispelled.

Her blade drew a golden arc through the air, slashing directly toward Raymond's chest.

That strike carried an unstoppable momentum, like a bolt of lightning falling from the heavens.

Raymond parried, but his blade was knocked away by the shock.

He retreated five steps, his face turning pale.

Sharp pain radiated from his arm, the web of his thumb had split open, and blood dripped along the hilt of his sword.

Ophelia stopped her attack and stood still, her sword tip pointing down.

The golden battle qi slowly receded, and her expression remained serene.

"Is that enough?" she asked calmly.

Raymond was silent for a few seconds before shaking his head with a wry smile.

"It is enough," he said, his voice carrying a hint of helplessness. "The first knight of the empire truly lives up to the reputation."

He sheathed his sword and took a deep breath.

"I have lost," he said frankly. "And I have lost completely."

A complex mix of emotions welled up within him.

There was shock, awe, and an unspeakable sense of relief.

With such strength protecting his master, what else did he have to worry about?

Ophelia also sheathed her sword as the golden battle qi dissipated.

"Your swordsmanship is very good," she said with a hint of recognition. "If we were only comparing skill, I might not have won."

This wasn't entirely a courtesy.

Raymond's swordsmanship was indeed seasoned; that kind of technique honed on the edge of life and death was something she hadn't learned in the knight academy.

Raymond shook his head.

"Madam overpraises me; even in terms of pure technique, you are already at a much higher level," he said steadily. "I understand now."

He turned to look at Klein, his gaze becoming serious.

"Master, I am at ease," he said. "With the madam there, your safety will not be an issue."

Klein laughed.

"I told you so," he said with a hint of pride. "My judgment is never wrong."

He stood up and walked over to Ophelia's side.

"Good work," he said, reaching out to gently pat her shoulder.

Ophelia turned to look at Klein, a flash of helplessness in her golden eyes.

But the corners of her mouth unconsciously curved into a tiny arc.

"It was no trouble," she said softly.

Then she looked at her left hand—the hand polluted by the sea monster.

During the fight just now, she had barely used it.

It wasn't that she couldn't use it, but that she didn't want to.

The pollution on that hand always reminded her of that battle on the west coast.

Klein noticed her gaze and reached out to hold her left hand.

"It's alright," he said gently. "We will face it together."

Ophelia was stunned for a moment, then she nodded.

"Yes," she said.

Raymond walked to Klein's side, his voice dropping low.

"Master, the situation on the west coast is very complex," he said. "The fact that Karl and the others have lost contact means the waters there are very deep. You and the madam must be careful."

He paused before continuing, "I have already had some supplies and equipment prepared, along with several bottles of healing potions. Although the madam's strength is great, that is the sea monsters' territory after all; it's always better to be well-prepared."

Klein nodded.

"I know," he said calmly. "That's why we have to go."

He turned to look at Ophelia.

"Besides, I trust Ophelia," he said. "She won't let anything happen to me."

Ophelia's ears turned slightly red, but she quickly regained her composure.

"Yes," she said, her voice firm.

Raymond was silent for a few seconds before nodding.

"I will manage the affairs of the territory," he said. "Rest assured."

Klein patted him on the shoulder.

"I believe in you," he said.

Ophelia walked to Klein's side, her golden eyes looking at him.

"When do we depart?"

Klein thought for a moment.

"Tomorrow," he said. "We'll prepare today and leave first thing tomorrow morning."

Although the night of the full moon was still a month away and the journey would only take three days.

But by arriving early, perhaps they could find the people who had lost contact.

Moreover, he had a faint premonition in his heart.

The matter on the west coast might be more complicated than he imagined.

Ophelia nodded.

"Fine," she said.

She paused, her golden eyes looking at Klein.

"Is there anything I need to prepare?"

Klein smiled.

"You only need to prepare your sword," he said. "Leave the rest to me."

Ophelia nodded, her lips curving into a small arc.

"Alright," she said.

Raymond stood to the side watching them, his gaze turning complex.

He opened his mouth as if to say something, but ultimately remained silent.

Klein turned to look at him.

"What is it?"

Raymond shook his head.

"It's nothing," he said. "Just..."

He paused, his voice becoming even deeper.

"Just I hope you and the madam return safely."

He thought of his master's father, the man who had once saved him from a dire situation.

That man had been the same way, always saying with a smile, "I'll be back safely."

But in the end, he never returned.

Klein laughed.

"We will," he said lightly. "We'll be back safely."

He could sense Raymond's worry, but he didn't want the atmosphere to become too heavy.

"Besides, I still want to come back and continue my research into alchemy," he said. "The sea monster materials from the west coast might even allow my research to progress further."

Raymond shook his head with a wry smile.

"Master, you really are..." he said. "Just like your father."

Klein shrugged.

"Of course," he said. "I am his son, after all."

Ophelia stood beside him, her golden eyes looking toward the distance.

The west coast.

The place where she had once fought.

The place where she had campaigned against a god.

Her left hand trembled slightly, but it quickly settled.

She turned to look at Klein, a flash of determination in her golden eyes.

"We will return safely," she repeated, her voice calm but carrying an indisputable power.

This time, she would not let anyone get hurt.

Klein looked at her, a smile touching his lips.

"Right," he said. "We will."

He reached out and took her hand, feeling the warmth of her palm.

"Together," he said.

Ophelia nodded.

"Together," she echoed.

The sunlight in the courtyard was still wonderful.

A morning breeze blew past, stirring the fallen leaves on the ground.

Tomorrow, they would set out.

Toward that dangerous place.

But at this moment, their hearts were at peace.

Because they knew that whatever awaited them ahead, they would face it together.

Fight together.

And return together.