Chapter 108: The Final Bout

  The hush that fell over the ballroom was different this time. It wasn’t just tension—it was expectation. Every noble in attendance, from the smirking elite of House Ulthar to the now-intrigued lords of House Veylan, leaned forward in their seats.

  For the first time, Vaelis Il’Theron bled. And for the first time, Thalron wasn’t just surviving. He was winning.

  The officiator raised a hand.

  “Fifth and final round—begin!”

  Vaelis did not move instantly.

  That alone set off alarm bells in Thalron’s mind.

  This was different.

  No sudden burst of speed. No blinding flash of movement. No attempt to overwhelm him with sheer momentum.

  Vaelis walked forward.

  And for the first time in the fight, Thalron felt something unsettling.

  Not arrogance.

  Not calculation.

  Something worse.

  A warrior’s excitement.

  Vaelis rolled his neck, his blade loose in his grip. He exhaled slowly, almost like he was finally enjoying himself.

  Then, he struck.

  Thalron barely raised his sword in time.

  Steel met steel, but this wasn’t like before. Vaelis wasn’t just fast now—he was efficient.

  No wasted movement. No unnecessary flourishes.

  Thalron barely had time to blink before Vaelis' second strike came.

  Then the third.

  Then the fourth.

  Thalron parried, sidestepped, twisted away—but Vaelis adjusted instantly, shifting his angles, pressing forward, never relenting.

  Gone was the showmanship.

  This was the true White Blade.

  And he was relentless.

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  Thalron’s arms burned with every block, every parry. Vaelis had abandoned his former duelist’s pacing, and now? Now, he was fighting like a hunter.

  Thalron shifted his stance. If he couldn’t match Vaelis’ speed, then—

  He wouldn’t.

  He’d break it.

  Vaelis came in fast, sword aiming for a diagonal slash. Thalron didn’t parry—he rolled with the attack, absorbing the force, letting the strike glance downward off of his blade.

  Vaelis’ silver-blue eyes widened slightly.

  He went to raise his sword to strike again.

  Then Thalron struck, a feint motion from his off hand, ice formed, holding Vaelis' blade in place.

  Thalron launched a knee toward Vaelis’ ribs.

  It connected. Hard.

  Vaelis gritted his teeth, using the force of the hit to spin free of the ice and into a counterstrike, but Thalron had already ducked under it, he reversed the grip of his blade, now using both hand, Thalron Manipulated the ice that had been sent flying, to form a Shield, protecting himself from Vaelis' follow up strike.

  When Vaelis' blade made contact with the shield of ice, spikes jutted forth...

  The ballroom was deathly silent.

  Vaelis had just managed to back dodge in time.

  This wasn’t a duel anymore. This was a fight.

  They clashed again.

  Steel against steel.

  Mana against Ki.

  Both warriors moving on instinct, attacking, dodging, countering, reading each other in real-time.

  Vaelis twisted his blade, forcing Thalron’s sword down.

  Thalron responded by hooking Vaelis’ wrist trying to wrench him off-balance, Vaelis redirected his Ki into his muscle, and yanked Thalron, easily tossing him like a weightless sack. While being hurled through the air, Thalron pushed himself downward with a summoned burst of wind, aiming to slash as Vaelis' exposed back.

  Vaelis corrected mid-step and retaliated with a brutal elbow strike.

  Thalron twisted his head at the last moment, the blow grazing his cheek instead of breaking his jaw.

  Thalron with another

  Vaelis saw the shift too late.

  Thalron redirected his momentum, twisting their locked swords at an unnatural angle.

  Vaelis’ grip faltered for just an instant.

  Thalron capitalized, slamming his pommel against Vaelis’ wrist with a sharp crack, a quick application of wind Mana, sent The White Blade’s sword flying from his grip.

  The entire ballroom gasped.

  Vaelis stepped back, blinking at his empty hands.

  Thalron’s blade was at his throat.

  The silence was deafening.

  The officiator hesitated, looking between them before finally raising his hand.

  “Fifth round—Thalron of House Kelcrest!”

  The ballroom erupted.

  The Aftermath

  House Veylan stood, applauding. House Ulthar was frozen, some in shock, others in barely concealed rage.

  Vaelis…

  He just breathed out slowly.

  Then—he smiled.

  Not the cocky smirk he had worn before.

  A genuine smile.

  Thalron lowered his sword slightly, still catching his breath, waiting to see what Vaelis would do next.

  Vaelis stepped forward, retrieved his fallen sword, and—

  Sheathed it.

  Then, with the entire ballroom watching, he inclined his head.

  A warrior’s acknowledgment.

  Thalron, after a beat, returned the nod.

  The officiator, still slightly stunned, finally announced:

  “The Rite of Proving concludes! The victory belongs to Thalron of House Kelcrest!”

  The cheers grew louder.

  From the sidelines, Marcus let out a slow whistle.

  “Well, damn.”

  Vira just smirked. “Unbelievable.”

  The match was over.

  Thalron's pride surged.

  His friends rushed him, Arixa and Marcus, hoisted him on their shoulders.

  Guys this isn't proper end of duel etiquette amongst elves. Thalron said through winded breath.

  Who cares Arixa shouted.

  You're not even full elf, they can take their etiquette and shove it Vira said elated.

  The group celebrated for a full minute before...

  Sylven cleared his throat

  The group scanned the room to realize they were the only ones celebrating—so—fervently.

  With a bow and a nod, Sylven Spoke

  I'm prepared to make good on our deal come to my estate in the morning.