True Love's Seventh Kiss

Ch.42 A Rising Swordmaster

He smirked showing his fangs in an arrogant way showing off one of the side effects of his mana-touched symptoms which was his slightly sharper than normal teeth. It wasn't that he was belittling her... it was that he was having so much fun playing the villain. "Parlez-vous français?" Which was just 'do you speak French' but he said it as if he were egging her on and mocking her so she took the first move.

It was a lunge and a downwards strike. Marion had no trouble deflecting and parrying but when he counter-attacked with a lunge of his own Prudence blocked it with the sword guard.

He aggressively attacked with a pair of jabs and with a bind she swirled her blade around Marion's and tried to disarm him. However, she didn't have a solid follow through for failure, so he followed her simple slash with a riposte and an upwards slash however even while she was fully extended, she managed to block. Several more slashes and tricky jabs revealed that she was abled to use every part of her blade from tip to guard to pommel to defend and her sword style allowed for enough movement to dodge what she couldn't block.

This was when he discovered the proper trade off employed by the Imperial style swordsmanship. Her attack power was weak and slow, but her defense was near impenetrable. Judging by her simplistic attack pattern it seemed like it was reliant on aura and magic to give it the needed potency for ending a fight. But without it, she was a defensive wall, using the barest of motions to block and deflect. A style ideal for a princess who merely needed to fend off foes until her personal guard arrived.

Marion, understanding that she would never be able to strike a final blow, decided to treat it more like a dance than a duel. Since it was for fun, he led her around the battlefield with graceful strides. Since this was to be a dance of stamina, he kept his attacks modest, and his parries were light to keep from throwing the princess off balance.

After about five minutes it was obvious that they had fallen into a comfortable rhythm and that it was going to be an endurance battle, so Novak stepped in.

Clap clap! "Very good you two, let's not tire yourself out too quickly." Novak stepped in and clapped his hands. "It was a wonderful dance princess; your defensive form is perfect. I advise you to reach out to Knight Grand Commander Pacer for pointers on how to overcome the limits of the imperial sword style in a Seven star spar setting. He can be a bit childish, but he became a sword saint because he wasn't one to back down from a fight."

"Marion, just because she is the princess doesn't mean you need to pull all your punches, and you shouldn't treat her so flippantly. You should show respect for your opponent by showing them your best. Someday you may have to draw your sword on someone of a higher station, human or otherwise, and they will not be accustomed to sparring lives on the battlefield." then Novak winked implying that he did a good job.

"Of course, father." Marion deactivated his starbrand and bowed to the princess. "It was an enjoyable dance, your highness, forgive my arrogance, next time I shall give it my all."

Prudence deactivated her starbrand and gave a modest courtesy befitting high class. "It was an enjoyable little dance. But I should like some of your time tomorrow as payment for your arrogance." Prudence smiled only allowing a little smugness to break the elegant illusion. Marion was sure that as she grew older, she would undoubtedly become a top tier Villainess.

"I'm sure it can be arranged." Marion inwardly sighed. It wasn't like he could get out of a royal invitation.

"Wonderful." Prudence wiped her sweat with a towel provided by one of the girls who acted as a handmaiden. "But it seems we've kept someone waiting." Prudence looked at Whitney.

Whitney stepped forward and ignited her starbrand. She stuck it in the ground and placed her two hands on it in a regal knightly way like one of those statues in royal hallways. It then occurred to Marion that collecting arts and garbage was probably a hobby of nobles to fill all the empty spaces in their homes.

Huh, what a thought maybe he should start collecting things.

"Marion Cliffgard, I am Whitney Westhold and I challenge you to a Seven star spar!" she said.

Novak, who was standing in the ring somewhat between them, jumped out of the way in time for Marion to act.

The rules for the Seven star spar were as complicated as they were simple. There were two ways to start one and two ways to accept a challenge. As long as both knew the rules it could be started verbally or with killing intent while holding a sword on a challenge field. Marion could accept the duel verbally or if he were smart, he would take a cue from his father from last night.

Marion bent his knees and sprinted at Whitney. As if he were taking the advice of his father to heart, he showed his best and used the Dead Run style to launch an attack at his highest speed. It wasn't aided by magic, but Marion had been practicing running since he entered this world and to say his legs were built for speed was an understatement.

Whitney was not prepared for the sudden aggression and when she went to grab her sword Marion used her surprise and hesitation to grab the handle of the sword she struggled to get upright in time. Marion used his momentum and shoved the guard into her torso, forcing her to take a step back. Then she felt a hot sting and a cold line drawn over her throat as Marion dragged the length of his face sword across her neck. He then pivoted so he didn't run her over like a brute and ended up nearly sliding to a stop behind her. She hadn't even noticed him ignite his starbrand; he was so quick.

"Marion wins." Novak announced.

In disbelief she turned around to see Marion, hopping on the balls of his feet to show he was ready for another round. "Would you like a rematch?"

"It's like watching you and Wesker back at the academy all over again." Gurrand chuckled as he helped Novak who had stumbled a bit to get out of Marion's way fast enough.

Whitney's temper rose and she unleashed genuine bloodlust. She stood up and then she heard Gurrand shout. "Marion wins again!"

In disbelief she turned to her idol with shock and confusion. "We haven't even started yet."

"Rule number 1. Killing intent is consent." Novak stated, holding up a finger.

"Rule 2, no sword aura, magic, potions, or alchemy. And you tried putting sword aura in your starbrand." Gurrand said and pointed at the starbrand which flashed a warning light for about ten seconds showing aura had been used. "The seven star spar isn't about killing the opponent, it is about fine tuning your swordsmanship. Fan your temper and steel your blade but do not lose yourself to its fire Whitney. Your father struggled controlling his temper and aura the most, which left him open to taunts from this scoundrel."

Novak smiled. "Oh Gurrand, you say the most charming things." Novak swooned playfully into Gurrand's shoulder.

"Get off me you battle addicted half-wit." Gurrand shoved Novak away but couldn't hide his smile when he said. "I'm a taken man," Gurrand wiped off where Novak touched and then straightened his shirt.

Novak chuckled. "Excuse the impropriety, Dame Westhold. Please continue with your third spar with Marion." Novak apologized and stepped back.

"You're a right bastard, Seven, and you know it." Gurrand slapped the back of Novak's head.

"It's part of my undying charm." Novak chuckled.

"Undying is right you shameless mockery of a ghoul." Gurrand shook his head.

Marion nodded to Whitney without saying anything and took a different stance from before. This time Whitney would not be disgraced; she was embarrassed and frustrated. Skie was right, this man was her match and better.