Chapter 44: When Blades Speak
Aziz barely had time to think.
Instinctively, his body responded to the imminent danger. As if every cell, every fiber of his muscles had memorized what to do in moments like that, his posture adjusted, his breathing regulated, and his senses sharpened. Everything happened in a fraction of a second, like an ancestral mechanism carefully molded over the years, ready to activate at the exact moment of threat.
His feet planted firmly on the ground, like roots embedded in stone. His eyes became sharp and focused, catching even the slightest movement in the air. His arms moved with absolute precision, wielding the sword as a natural extension of his own being.
The test had begun.
The metallic sound echoed through the chamber as Aziz’s sword intercepted the swift attack of Selene’s spear. The clash of weapons reverberated through his arms, a wave of impact that would have unbalanced an ordinary fighter. But he did not waver. His body held firm, his silver hair swaying with the vibration of the blow, like strands of silver dancing under an invisible current.
"Good reflexes," Selene remarked, her eyes gleaming with a certain excitement, as if she had just found a raw diamond more precious than expected. But she gave no time for responses. Without hesitation, she spun the spear deftly and attacked again, aiming directly at Aziz’s neck — swift as a venomous serpent, treacherous and precise.
Aziz leapt back, eyes fixed on her, sword in high guard. The blade before his face gleamed, reflecting the chamber lights as if channeling his own determination. He did not respond to the silent provocation in Selene’s eyes. He observed. Studied. Calculated. Every movement, every angle of her guard, every blind spot visible for less than a second. Nothing escaped him.
She arched an eyebrow at his prudence and, with a provocative smile on her lips, stepped forward.
"Come on, don’t tell me you’re just going to defend and retreat. That would be disappointing... especially from someone under Lady Stella’s tutelage," she said, in a tone mixed with provocation and challenge. Her eyes were sharp needles of analysis, scanning his every reaction, as if wanting to tear off his masks and decipher who he really was.
Aziz remained silent for a brief moment. He didn’t fall for the provocation — at least not emotionally. But in his mind, he decided it was time to change the course of the fight.
’Based on what I’ve seen so far... she’s at the Master stage like me,’ he thought, adjusting his grip on the sword. ’But the difference between us is clear. I’m only an Initiate Master... she’s probably at the Mid level, maybe even Peak.’