Chapter9
John's voice caught in his throat.
John: W-War…?
Guinevere's eyes narrowed, sharp and unwavering.
Guinevere: Yes. Today… you'll see what you're truly capable of.
Few hours later..The ruined kingdom of Draventhia stretched before them: collapsed houses, blackened forests, rivers choked with debris. Princess's eyes softened for a moment, but she quickly masked it, keeping her focus on the path.
John's gaze widened as he took in the destruction.
John: Commander… Guinevere…?
Guinevere didn't answer. Her tone was sharp and commanding.
Guinevere: Keep moving. Every step counts. Don't fall behind.
The path was harsh. Loose stones slid under boots, soldiers groaned under their packs. Horses strained, hooves scraping against rock. John nearly slipped and instinctively reached for a soldier beside him.
John: Careful! Watch your footing!
Princess's eyes flicked to him briefly, a small tension in her jaw, then back to the climb.
Princess: Stay focused… one misstep and this mountain will have you.
Guinevere rode ahead, scanning everyone with icy precision.
Guinevere: Move faster. Rest is for later.
Hours passed. Sweat stung, muscles burned, dust clouded their path. Still, step by step, they climbed.
By evening, the sun dipped low, painting the sky in gold and crimson. Finally, the slope leveled into a safer plateau. Horses grazed cautiously, and soldiers leaned against rocks, catching their breath.
Princess finally allowed herself a slow breath, her shoulders relaxing slightly. Her grip on the reins eased, her expression softening — still serious, still focused, but calmer.
Princess :good work everyone. We made it safely.
John exhaled, tension leaving his shoulders — for a brief moment.
Then… something shifted in the air.
Suddenly a arrow was about to hit the Princess but she quickly dozed it…
Princess's eyes flicked up, her instincts sharpening. Shadows moved at the edges of the plateau. She wasn't the only one watching.
Countless pairs of eyes glinted from the treeline.
Enemies — surrounding them, silent and waiting.
Princess tightened her grip on her sword. Her eyes turned cold and sharp, emotion draining away, leaving only focus and determination.
Princess (thinking): No more hesitation…
As Guinevere sensed the danger, a faint, sharp smirk curved her lips. Her eyes glinted with anticipation — the calm before the storm.
Guinevere (quietly, almost to herself): Finally… some fun.
John's senses snapped into focus. His hand tightened around his sword, muscles coiling, every instinct alert.
Then, from all directions, it became clear — the enemy had them completely surrounded.
Hundreds of soldiers, silent and deadly, emerged from the shadows, encircling the plateau. The air vibrated with tension; every footstep felt like a threat.
Guinevere dismounted with lethal grace. Her eyes gleamed dangerously, a sharp smile on her lips.
Guinevere: Hah! Who's the leader? I don't do cat-and-mouse games!
From the ruined trees and shattered stones, the young Prince of Draventhia stepped forward, wild-eyed, his sword glinting in the dying sun.
Prince: Who… who do you think you are? I am the Prince of Draventhia! You dare enter my lands — and speak to me like this? Unforgivable!
Princess Flora moved forward, calm and commanding.
Princess: This isn't a kingdom anymore. Your lands have fallen. Lumivale defeated you. Hiding in these mountains and claiming it as your own? Unacceptable.
The prince's face twisted with fury.
Prince: You dare! Attack!
Guinevere slammed her boot into the earth, dismounting with lethal grace. Her eyes blazed with a dangerous light, a sharp, almost wicked smile spreading across her face.
Guinevere: Hah! Finally… some real fun!
The enemies surged forward, but she didn't flinch. Steel sang as she pulled her sword free, swinging in wide, deadly arcs. Each strike cut through armor and bone — precise yet brutal — leaving trails of blood in her wake.
Guinevere: Too slow! Is that all you've got?!
A soldier rushed her from the flank. She pivoted, spinning like a whirlwind, her blade slicing clean through his defenses. His scream ended abruptly as she kicked him aside, never breaking her rhythm.
Guinevere: Hah! Come on! Show me your strength!
John's voice rang out above the clash of steel.
John: Attack! Push forward!
He lunged into the fray, sword flashing, taking command of the soldiers. Around him, they surged with renewed courage, inspired by his focus and ferocity.
Guinevere's laughter cut through the battlefield, low and dangerous.
Guinevere: Is that it?! I'm barely warmed up!
She spun, leaping over a fallen comrade, slicing through enemies like a storm of steel. Blood spattered her boots and dripped from her blade, but she didn't slow — the thrill of battle lit her eyes, making her almost untouchable, almost inhuman.
On the other side of the battlefield…
Steel collided in a violent clash as Princess Flora met the Prince of Draventhia's blade head-on. Sparks burst between them, lighting their faces in brief flashes.
They circled.
Measured. Deadly.
The prince smirked, eyes gleaming with twisted amusement.
Prince: I see now… the rumors weren't exaggerated. Your eyes are sharp. Focused. But unfortunately for you… you're facing me.
He moved suddenly — faster than before.
His strike came heavy. Princess blocked, but the force drove her backward. Stone cracked beneath her boots as she struggled to absorb the impact.
He didn't give her space.
Another slash. Then another.
She countered — swift and precise — forcing him to step back. But he twisted his wrist mid-clash and knocked her blade off balance.
Her guard opened for half a second.
He struck her shoulder guard hard enough to stagger her.
Prince (calm, mocking): Disappointing. I expected more from Lumivale's "prodigy."
Princess steadied herself, breathing controlled.
She attacked again — calculated, elegant, relentless.
He blocked with ease.
Their blades locked close to their faces.
His voice lowered.
Cruel.
Prince: Perhaps the stories were just that. Stories. You're not extraordinary… just well advertised.
He leaned closer, eyes cold.
Prince: Much like your mother.
Everything stopped.
Princess's expression froze.
The air grew heavier.
Prince (soft, venomous): A woman who spoke of saving humanity… yet failed to protect even her own.
Her grip tightened.
The prince smirked, seeing it.
Prince: Tell me… did she fall believing she could make a difference?
Princess shoved him back with sudden force.
Her voice was no longer calm.
Princess: Do not speak of her.
She lunged — faster now. Harder. Her strikes lost none of their precision, but the restraint was gone. Steel rained down on him in sharp, aggressive arcs.
The prince blocked, laughing under his breath.
Prince: There it is. Emotion clouds the blade.
He sidestepped and kicked her leg out from under her. She caught herself — but in that instant—
Enemy soldiers surged from behind.
They seized her arms. Locked her shoulders. Forced her down.
Her sword slipped from her fingers and clattered across the stone.
The prince approached slowly.
Measured steps.
Prince: This is the difference between us. You fight for ideals. I fight to win.
He crouched slightly, meeting her glare.
Prince: Your mother died clinging to hope. You'll die the same way.
Her breathing changed.
Not panic.
Something deeper.
Her head lowered. Strands of hair fell across her face.
Princess (low): …Enough.
The soldiers holding her shifted uneasily.
The air around her began to feel wrong — heavy, pressurized.
Her fingers curled into fists.
Princess (sharper): I said… enough.
The ground beneath her knees cracked.
…CAPTER 9ENDS…