Chapter 205 : Chapter 205
Chapter 205: Will and Extension
Rex lowered his head and looked at her in his arms.
His gray eyes were full of tenderness.
Then, very quietly, a short knife appeared in his hand.
It was small and thin, the blade gleaming with a cold light.
His arm slowly tightened, pulling her closer and closer. The knife crept toward her back, inch by inch.
One inch.
Two inches.
Three inches.
He was still speaking as he moved it.
“Young miss, once we get out of here, I’ll go to your father and ask for your hand.”
“How about we stay together for the rest of our lives?”
“In the future, we’ll have our own estate, and lots and lots of little babies...”
The knife was only an inch from her back now.
“We’ll live together, happily, forever...”
Half an inch.
The tip was almost touching her clothes.
And then—
Rex’s voice stopped.
He lowered his head and looked at his chest.
There was a sword there.
A knight’s longsword.
It had thrust out from Lillian’s embrace and pierced straight through his chest.
He froze.
The knife slipped from his hand and hit the ground with a clear, ringing sound.
He lifted his head and saw Lillian’s face.
There was none of the shyness from before on that face. None of the emotion. None of the tenderness.
There was only coldness.
Only fury.
“H-how is that possible...”
His voice was terribly hoarse.
Lillian did not answer him. She only tightened her grip on the hilt and drove the sword another inch deeper.
“Rex’s” body began to crack.
Starting from the wound, fissures spread across him. They ran over his face, over his body, over every inch of his skin.
That face, identical to Rex’s, was filled with disbelief and unwillingness.
Then, with a crash—
He shattered.
The shards fell to the floor, turned into motes of light, and slowly faded away.
Only that short knife remained, lying there alone.
Lillian drew back her sword and turned to look at “Ryan” in the distance.
“Ryan” stood there, surprise on his face.
“You...”
Lillian pointed her sword at him.
“You two things, whatever you are,” she said, her voice as cold as ice, “had the nerve to disguise yourselves as Ryan and Rex.”
“Ryan’s” expression changed.
The surprise vanished, replaced by a twisted, deeply unsettling smile.
“A fool like Rex would never say so many smooth, sweet words,” Lillian said, enunciating every word. “He wouldn’t even dare think that much.”
“Ryan” smiled. The smile kept widening, growing more and more exaggerated, until it became grotesque.
“So you saw through it.”
His voice changed too. It was no longer Ryan’s steady, indifferent voice, but something sharper and colder.
“Lucky little brat.”
He stepped forward.
“But do you really think knowing that will save you?”
Lillian tightened her grip on her sword and stared at him.
“Where are the real Rex and Ryan?”
“Ryan” tilted his head. In the reflected light of the mirrors, that face looked especially eerie.
“They’ve already gone to hell ahead of you.”
The short knife appeared in his hand, identical to the one the fake Rex had held a moment ago.
“You can take that secret to your grave.”
He rushed at her.
In the mirrors, countless versions of him rushed at her too.
The light reflected back and forth through the mirrors, making her dizzy.
Lillian gripped her sword more tightly and took up a defensive stance.
Her hands were shaking, but she clenched her teeth and refused to let them shake.
She still had not found Rex.
She still had not found Ryan.
She could not die here.
When “Ryan” thrust with his knife, Lillian twisted aside.
The short blade brushed past her ribs, slicing open her clothes.
The cold seeped across her skin and deep into her bones, like a knife made of ice carving across her skeleton.
He was too fast. This fake Ryan was too fast. No magic, no fancy tricks, just pure, absolute close-quarters killing skill.
His footwork was light, but every step was perfectly steady. His knife was controlled, but every strike was too fast to follow with the eye.
He was exactly like the real Ryan.
Lillian stepped back and swept her sword out to force him off.
Ice gathered around her, forming more than ten icicles that shot at the fake Ryan.
They passed right by him. Not a single one hit.
Lillian’s heart sank.
So this was Ryan’s true level?
Before, she had only heard rumors. Only seen him from afar. Only listened to others talk about how he had defeated Eleanor.
She had never truly crossed blades with him herself.
Now she understood.
The rumors were true. If anything, they had underestimated him.
That short knife came again.
Lillian raised her sword to block. Steel struck steel with a sharp metallic clang.
The force traveling up the blade numbed the web of her thumb and made her entire arm shake. She took a step back, and the fake Ryan pressed forward. She retreated another step, and he advanced another.
The two of them moved through the narrow corridor in a one-step retreat, one-step pursuit. On both sides, the mirrors reflected them back and forth—countless Lillians retreating, countless fake Ryans pressing in.
Lillian’s back struck a mirror.
Cold.
She had nowhere left to retreat.
The fake Ryan’s lips curved into a smile.
That smile looked nothing like the real Ryan’s, yet it fit Ryan’s face in a disturbingly natural way. It was far too wicked, far too twisted, as though this was how that face had always been meant to smile.
He raised the knife.
Lillian stared at it.
In that instant, countless thoughts flashed through her mind.
Where was Rex?
Where was the real Ryan?
Would she die here?
Would she ever see them again?
Then all of those thoughts vanished, leaving only one behind—
She did not want to die.
She did not want to die in a place like this.
She did not want to die at the hands of some fake.
Her eyes lit up.
The fake Ryan’s knife came down.
Lillian did not dodge. She shifted just enough to let the blade stab into her shoulder—not a fatal spot, but painful enough to make her whole face twist.
At the same time, she drove her own sword forward, thrusting for the fake Ryan’s chest.
He dodged. He was too fast. The thrust missed.
Lillian gritted her teeth. Blood poured from her shoulder, and the pain was bad enough to blacken her vision.
But she did not stop.
In the instant the fake Ryan moved to evade, she rolled to the side, rolling out from the angle between two mirrors and opening up some distance again.
The fake Ryan looked at her as though she were an amusing prey animal.
“You can still move?” he said with a smile. “Impressive.”
Lillian ignored him.
She was thinking.
How was she supposed to fight this?
She could not win in a straight fight. He was too fast. Her sword could not keep up with him.
The icicles were useless too. He was too agile. She could not hit him.
So what was she supposed to do?
Her gaze swept across the mirrors around her. In those mirrors were countless versions of her, and countless versions of him.
Those reflections were watching each other too. Facing each other too. Waiting too.
And suddenly, she remembered something her father had told her when he was teaching her swordsmanship as a child.
“Lillian, remember this. A sword is not merely a weapon. It is an extension of your body. And Ice Element magic is not merely magic. It is an extension of your will.”