TBATE: CAERA | VALKYRIE ASCENSION

Chapter 9: Curse of the Bloodline

THIRD PERSON'S POV:

Caera took a defensive stance, as both she and Sevren stepped back to create some distance between them. Sevren, however, stood firm, his posture casual, almost relaxed. "Are you ready?" he asked with an easy smile.

Caera hesitated for a moment, confused by his laid-back demeanor. It didn't match the intensity she was expecting. Despite this, she nodded. She knew he was much stronger than he appeared. The pressure he had released when scolding Lauden was proof enough of his power, but she could also tell he was still holding back, suppressing his aura.

Caera shifted her weight, her sword poised, eyes narrowing at Sevren's relaxed posture. "I won't move from this spot, so take your shot," he said with a playful grin, almost too casually. His overconfidence irked her. She had been trained by Scythe Seris herself, and the way Sevren was underestimating her made her all the more determined.

"Alright," Caera responded, her voice steady as she adjusted her stance. She focused on her mana, feeling it pulse through her veins as she prepared to strike.

Without warning, she launched forward with a burst of speed, her sword slicing through the air with precision, aiming for Sevren's torso. The blow was swift, clean, and infused with just enough mana to show she wasn't holding back.

But, as if moving on instinct, Sevren tilted his body slightly, allowing her blade to pass mere inches from his side. He hadn't even lifted his sword. "Hmm, not bad," he commented, still standing firmly in place as promised, "but you'll need more than that to make me move."

Frustration sparked in Caera's chest, but she kept her composure. She spun on her heel, gathering fire mana into her sword. This time, flames licked the blade's edge as she swung again, determined to wipe that grin off his face.

Yet, again, Sevren effortlessly sidestepped, the flames harmlessly dissipating into the air. "Are you holding back on purpose?" he teased, clearly enjoying himself.

Caera bit her lip in frustration. It was clear now-he was leagues above her. She concentrated more mana into her Emblem, intensifying the flames that now crackled along her sword. She focused just like she had during practice, pouring her energy into the blade. The heat surged, and she swung the sword with a powerful arc, sending a wave of flames hurtling toward Sevren.

The flames were fierce-lethal if they struck someone unprepared. But Caera knew Sevren was no ordinary opponent. She expected him to dodge, to break his promise of not moving from his spot. If he did, she'd gain a small victory, using the distraction to her advantage.

But once again, her expectations were shattered. The arc of flames dissipated mid-air, fizzling out as though they had hit an invisible wall. Her eyes widened in shock.

A series of mana shields had appeared before Sevren, effortlessly absorbing the force of her attack.

"What?!" Caera exclaimed, bewildered. "How did you do that?"

Sevren, still grinning, shrugged with a playful smirk. "Do what?"

"How did you create a shield? You said you were an Instiller and somewhat of a Striker, right?" Caera asked, her mind racing to make sense of the situation.

Sevren chuckled, clearly enjoying her confusion. "Hmm, maybe I'm also a shield-," he teased, pulling out a small black rod from his dimensional ring. It was about the size of his palm, with a green stone embedded at the bottom. He concentrated for a brief moment, then pointed it toward Caera.

Before she could react, a small wind bullet shot out from the rod. It wasn't anything overwhelming, and Caera easily dodged it by leaping to the side. But the revelation stunned her.