The moment Eugene declared, Jazz lunged forward with precision and power. His sword sliced through the air, aiming for me with deadly intent. His movements were swift, calculated, almost like a dance—he knew exactly how to exploit every opening.
At first, it seemed like he was dominating. I barely managed to parry the first few strikes, my stiletto clashing against his blade with a ringing sound. The power behind each of his attacks forced me to retreat step by step, the crowd's excitement swelling as Jazz's form grew more menacing. His movements were almost effortless, his presence overwhelming.
"And there we go, folks! The Shadow of Alasteer, armed with her signature stiletto, faces the King himself, Jazz Silvester Klein, in what is sure to be an epic clash! Let's see if the king's dominance continues or if the Shadow will defy all expectations!" The announcer's voice rang out, cutting through the tension in the air.
"Jazz is known for his ruthless precision! Will his sword prove too much for the Shadow's agility?" The crowd murmured, their eyes flicking between us.
"You're too slow," Jazz taunted, his voice cold, but his eyes hinted at something deeper—something I knew all too well. Beneath the kingly exterior, there was still that flicker of care for me, the same care that would be my advantage.
He swung again, faster this time. I narrowly dodged, the edge of his blade grazing my side. Pain shot through me, but I didn't show it. His arrogance made him stronger, but also more predictable. He believed I would crumble under the pressure, that my defenses would shatter like they had before.
But I had learned. I had studied him.
I saw it—the briefest flicker of hesitation in his eyes as he closed in. It was subtle, barely perceptible, but I knew it well. Jazz wasn't just a king; he was a man who cared, perhaps too much. And it was that hesitation, that moment of doubt, that I had been waiting for. I knew he'd hesitate. He always did.
It was the gap I needed.
"Wait—did you see that? A momentary hesitation from the king! Could it be that the Shadow has the upper hand?" The announcer's voice rose in excitement. The crowd was alive with anticipation, watching closely for the next move.
With a sudden surge of speed, I moved. The world seemed to slow as I darted forward, my stiletto flashing through the air in a deadly arc. I anticipated his movement, read the tilt of his body, and I struck.
Jazz's sword stopped mid-swing as my stiletto pressed against his throat. The force was enough to make him pause, his breath catching in his chest. He stared at me, the realization dawning in his eyes.
I hadn't just beaten him in strength. I had beaten him in the one thing that mattered: his heart.
The arena was silent, the crowd stunned. The king of Alasteer, the invincible ruler who had shattered countless foes, stood there—defeated by the one person he had never truly expected to fall to.
I didn't move, my stiletto still pressed against his neck. My heart pounded in my chest, but this time, it wasn't fear. It was triumph.
"Heart," he breathed, his voice barely a whisper.
"You were the miserable, because I knew you would hesitate." I said to him.
"Unbelievable! The Shadow of Alasteer has done it! With a swift and precise strike, she's bested the king himself! Is this the end of Jazz's reign, or is this just the beginning of something much more dangerous?" The announcer shouted in awe, the crowd now on their feet, gasping and cheering, some in disbelief.
