Of course, the fight between Amelia and Belle did not end in a stalemate.
Amelia, being older and more experienced, had pushed Belle back to the brink.
Clang—! Clang—!
The two swords clashed. A repeated exchange occurred, the sound of metal against metal echoing throughout the entire forest.
Sparks flew in the air as Amelia's magic sword, and Belle's sword continuously collided with a metal clang, each strikes sending vibrations through their arms.
Amelia's attacks were precise, focusing on straining Belle's arms.
It was the way the Constantines fought.
Meanwhile, Belle's movements were quick and lethal, reflecting the swordsmanship she had perfected from the Milis continent—aimed at precise and lethal blows.
However, it was to no avail against Amelia—who had more endurance and stamina than hers. Additionally, Amelia's body was just built for duelists.
Belle's own strength couldn't compare, and had to support herself with wind and light magic.
This was the first time they had dueled ever since Belle left the country years ago.
Amelia pressed forward, her footwork deliberate, as Belle barely parried each strike.
Clang—!
Another collision rang out, and Belle gritted her teeth as Amelia's sword swept dangerously close. Sparks flew again as Belle attempted a counter, aiming for Amelia's side with a swift, precise slash.
But Amelia was relentless, deflecting Belle's blade with ease. Her experience shone through—each movement calculated, each strike designed to break Belle's defenses bit by bit.
"Haaa.... H-haaa....."
Belle, breathing heavily, found herself retreating, forced on the defensive by Amelia's unyielding barrage.
Belle spun out of reach, aiming for distance. Her strikes became more focused, aiming for Amelia's weak spots. But Amelia, as always, stayed calm. Her eyes locked on Belle, watching, waiting for the perfect moment.
And then it came.
A quick feint, a flick of her wrist, and Amelia's sword slipped past Belle's defense.
Bang!
Unable to conjure her impenetrable wind defense, Belle was blown away, crashing into a nearby tree.
It was the decisive factor as Belle felt a surge of pain all over her body. Her back pressed against the tree, her neurons sending her warning signs that it was unsafe to press forward.
In front of her, piles of snow scattered, revealing white patches of grass.
Amidst it all, was Amelia who stood tall, her appearance remained flawless. A contrast to Belle—who's appearance looked rough with disheveled hair and tattered clothes.
Yet regardless of that, her beauty never fades. It might not match up to Amelia's, but Belle was a bonafide beauty in her own right.
"Okay, it's my loss.... Haaa...."
Belle openly admitted and tossed her own badge, falling right beneath Amelia.
Amelia bent down and picked up the badge. However, her lips pulled and looked at Belle as she tossed the badge back to her—Belle clumsily catching it.
"It's fine. I didn't plan on taking it."
"What? You deserve it....."
"Maybe, but I don't want you to fail."
"Is this because of Brandon—"
"No."
Eighteen hours after the training camp started.
The moon hung high, casting a luminescent glow over Aetherwild Woods.
And amidst the forest's enchanting beauty, was....
"Someone kill me—Kh...!"
Brandon, who could wholeheartedly swear he wanted to end himself.
The pain surging within him never resided, intensifying in each passing second. Much to the point where he felt like passing out.
However, he fought off the feeling, gnashing his teeth and smacking his bloody fists on the ground.
Thwack!
His gloves were shredded, torn apart from the relentless pounding. Blood seeped from his fists as he kept striking the ground, fighting against the pain.
Thwack! Thwack!
Each blow sent fresh agony through him, yet he gritted his teeth and refused to give in.
Reasons being, he had started getting paranoid. If he let his guard down and allowed himself to pass out, it was highly likely someone would attack him.
For that reason, he pushed through.
"Suck it up, you useless bastard—Akh!'
Thwack! Thwack!
"Fatherless fucke—Khh...!"
In the first place, it was entirely his fault.
However, despite his struggles, he felt his strength slowly increasing. His senses sharpened due to his paranoia, and at the same time, he used this chance to hone [Phantasm].
The mist's true nature were its illusory effects, capable of throwing off anyone within the mist. Additionally, his perception for the cursed pathways proficiently increased further.
For that reason....
——————————
[Special Affinities]
∟[Curse]
∟ [Cursed Threads]: Complete Mastery
∟ [Cursed Flames]: Complete Mastery
∟ [Cursed Chains]: Complete Mastery
∟ [Binding Vow]: Complete Mastery
∟ [Mark of Despair]: Complete Mastery
∟ [Soul Drain]: 0%
——————————
The skill [Mark of Despair] was now at complete mastery. For some reason, while it was still in its progress bar stage, he couldn't find a way to utilize the skill.
"Ah?"
As the information surged in his brain, relating to [Mark of Despair], it was then when he realized.
Mark of Despair.
....Were the illusory effects themselves.