197 She Is That Person's Descendant?!

Regardless of the angle or location, Robin could read his attacks as clear as day. When they had fought for around 5 minutes, finally a somewhat more serious light glinted in his eyes.

Seeing this, Robin realized he was going to start attacking in earnest.

'Skye!' She warned through their link. Skye jumped up onto Chelsea's shoulder, which was their pre-arranged sign that the Trader would start his assault.

Keith was busy recording everything on his magic eye. A historic moment such as this: it would be a sacrilege not to record. Of course, he had gotten permission from Robin beforehand. He had learned his lesson, after all.

Initially, nothing seemed to be happening. But then Oracle's power surged off to the side. An invisible force smashed itself against the shield that Chelsea had raised. The force of the confrontation blew dust up in the air, as it was unable to breach Oracle's protection.

For a moment, the shield became visible, looking like a water bubble as it rippled from the attack. Oracle had blocked the first strike, as Chelsea was distracted.

Robin's pupils shrank to pinholes as her expression became stern. He really had attacked her friends. Instead of aiming his attacks at her, he was attacking her friends in an attempt to distract her.

"So...this really isn't a spar, after all?" She said resentfully, as if she only just noticed.

"I never agreed that it was." He replied. "But it seemed that you really had a lot of time to prepare in advance. Even this wasn't enough to shake you."

"Luck favors the prepared, after all." Robin replied evenly. "I wouldn't have prepared against it if you were deserving of honorable combat."

He laughed. "Let's see how long this shield of yours can hold. I refuse to believe there's a shield in existence that can block me for long."

"We shall see." Robin replied. His attacks began to speed up in tempo, and she began speeding up as well to match.

The attacks upon the shield barrier began in earnest as well. But, because each attack was telegraphed by the swirling dust, Chelsea and Oracle were able to hold it back.

Liam, Keith, and Quinn could only watch on as the barrier was pummeled all around, as the force attempted to gain entrance.

Christian had his eyes trained on the battlefield, despite the flying dust that occasionally blocked his vision. He watched Robin fight head to head against the Trader, easily matching his tempo as they grew faster. He realized that Robin was more skilled than he had thought.

Every time that Robin had pulled out her sword, the fight had been far too short for him to truly ascertain Robin's skill level. But now, he could see clearly that her level was above even his own swordmaster teacher.

It rendered him spellbound with its beauty.

At this point, the Trader's eyes shifted from Robin towards her comrades. And he lost concentration enough for Robin to cut through his sword, and his mask split into two pieces. But before she could continue, something seemed to warn her.

She acted immediately with her fully speed, and it was as if she had teleported. She arrived just in time to block the blow intended for Christian, with her sword.

Her sword, gleamed with a brilliance that did not lose to that of a star. It fully blocked the force that was aiming for the side of Christian's head. But, the force of the blow knocked her back.

The flat of her blade knocked into her mask, sending it flying in one direction, while she was blown in another direction. Her feet and sword carved out three deep ruts in the ground as she attempted to stabilize her stance.

Keith dragged Christian back from the edge, by the back of his shirt, in case another shot was aimed at him.

A silence fell as the two unmasked figures took their first good look at each other. The Trader was, as previously assumed, a handsome young man.

Jasmine gasped. "Bastian Lave!? Son of Lave Mercantiles!? It's you!?"

But he didn't answer her. He was staring dumbfounded in honest shock at Robin. Everyone assumed he was surprised that Robin had blocked his blow....until he closed his open mouth, swallowed, then exclaimed.

"Somehow I seem to know your face...." He said, utterly baffled.

"....It's you!?How did you come here?"

"It's me? I arrived like all the heroes do, though, right?" Robin tilted her head confused. They had obviously never met before. Could he have confused her with someone else?

"Hahahah, of course, it had to be you! The black hair, those eyes, and your name is Robin."

Glancing back and forth from Robin to her friends, he sneered. "Oh, Your hair is still short, I see...Originally, I thought you were going for a Robin Hood sort of Hero...Robin of Ekkinshire? Hah! More like Robin of Earth!"

Robin's eyes widened in shock as she realized something. Her eyes flicked to glance over at Quinn, and then flicked back to the Trader.

"Earth, you say? Funny. I have no recollection of ever having met you, though that accent seems to ring a bell somewhere."

"It's me! Me!" He pointed at himself, as if expecting her to recall.

"Hmmm...No, can't quite place your face, sorry." Robin shrugged.

"Ah, that's right. I have changed a lot since then, haven't I? This brings back old memories." He chuckled. "You might remember me by the person whom I had taken over back there, a Mister Dawkins, if I recall-yes."

"Dawkins!?" Robin exclaimed, horrified.

"Yes. Dawkins. That stubborn old man. He was a tough nut to crack, I'll say. But crack him I did, when his only daughter died in a freak accident. Che! If I had latched on to that uncle of yours, it wouldn't even have taken a day, much less ten years." The Trader growled.

"You were the only child with promising prospects for spirit magic. But turns out you were even harder to crack than that old man. His only redeeming feature was to open up a way for me to return to this plane."

"Return? You came from here originally?" Christian asked, shocked.

"Mr Dawkins died of congestive heart failure. What has that got to do with you?" Robin scoffed.

"The same way as in the books, I got a free ride when that dolt reincarnated. heh! Didn't even realize I was there with him. Even now, he still doesn't, the fool! And that hero that came before you, he teamed up with my daughter to banish me from this plane. Heheh, but he left the back door open to his own world, the fool! I waited ten years for my revenge, but then he had to go and get into a car crash all on his own!"

"You're daughter is?" Robin asked.

"Well funny you should mention it. Isn't the person you're trying to meet my own flesh and blood, the demon king herself?"

"What!? So you were the previous demon king?" Christian's face paled. Children had nightmares based upon the last war's demon king.

"Eh. I was. It's too bad my own daughter went and set me up like that, but, she learned from the best, I suppose." He chuckled half-proud.

"It seems the very heavens themselves are on my side today. At last, I'll be able to have my revenge!" He grinned wickedly, looking at Robin. "And you were the last piece of the puzzle!"

"Me? What do I have to do with the mess you've made?" Robin scowled.

"Oho? So he didn't tell you, huh. The reason why your older brother and you are so good at swords...it's certainly hereditary. For the Prior Hero's own child not to know about his past....how pitiful."

"What? -Prior hero? My father was the prior hero!?" Robin exclaimed.

"And your mother was the saintess of Ekkinshire, Bluebell, of the Raven-Haired folk. Your striking blue eyes are the proof." The Trader nodded, beginning to sound more and more like old man Dawkins.

Robin began to look more and more cautious. "That may be so, but what have I to do with your revenge?"

"Hehehehheheh. Kek!" He coughed, sounding exactly like Dawkins. "What better method of revenge than to have the traitor in my family to be killed by the very hand of the Hero's bloodline?"

Robin's grip tightened on her sword.

"You couldn't control me back then. What makes you think you can do it now!" She said.

"Ah, but back then, I didn't have enough time. After six years, the tiny copy I left has been slowly digging away at your subconscious. Tell me, how much resistence is left in a wall that's been chipped away at, piece by piece? Eh? Robin?" He asked.

"How does it feel to constantly have to reinforce a crumbling bulwark?"