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Chapter 8
“…Make the first move.”
The moment Soram finished speaking, an attack came flying in.
In the blink of an eye, sword qi clashed and scattered again and again. The relentless exchanges made even the ground tremble faintly.
Soram bared his teeth in a grin.
He knew he was using more strength than necessary against a newcomer, but fighting a strong opponent and reaffirming one’s own position always brought excitement.
He pushed forward across the wide training ground, pressing Kata back.
Yet even under the violent sword qi, her green eyes never lost their calm.
“…I don’t like that.”
Sshhk!
A cut opened along Kata’s jaw.
Blood scattered into the air. In that instant, Soram brought his blade down hard against hers.
“….”
Beyond the burning green light, her expression was hard to read. Her shoulders rose and fell slightly as she breathed heavily.
Pressing down her wavering blade with overwhelming sword qi, Soram smiled brightly.
“I’ll acknowledge it, Katarenia Donovan. Among first-awakeners, you’re definitely at the top.”
“….”
“But there are plenty stronger than you in this world. You need to learn humility.”
The bright sword qi gradually overwhelmed her. Sweat gathered on her face, hardening her expression.
‘Now that I’ve seen her skill, I should probably finish this.’
Soram drew in more mana than usual.
The next moment, a vicious wave of pressure crashed down on Kata.
Kata had always been simple by nature.
She forgot easily and laughed easily. Even after crying as if the world were ending, a single sweet slice of pie could make her feel like she had everything.
“The girl has no sense of decorum. No matter her age, this is troubling.”
The strict countess was displeased with her daughter’s nature, but unfortunately Kata forgot scoldings just as quickly as anything else.
Her younger brother, Therion, two years her junior, was the opposite. He thought too much. Even mild criticism from their mother left him gloomy, and when things didn’t go his way, he grew sharp and irritable.
Therion hated losing. Whenever he lost to Kata in sparring, he would sulk for days.
“My sister only knows how to swing a sword and eat!”
Young Kata thought this was simply because Therion was soft.
Compared to her, he was soft in body and cheeks alike—getting upset over the smallest bumps or injuries.
Kata found him, their younger brother Timothia, and baby Elise all adorable and precious.
People she loved. People she would gladly protect.
But in Imperial Year 874—
“Miss… the lady… she—”
Their mother, who had seemed the strongest person in the world, died. And so did their youngest sister.
After the funeral, Therion spoke less. Timothia still smiled innocently.
And Kata began to have long nightmares.
Kata took a deep breath.
As expected, Soram was strong. Her shoulders felt like they would tear apart, and her wrists were already at their limit.
“What a shame.”
He said that—but Kata didn’t actually feel much regret about her failed second awakening.
People’s gossip about her downfall didn’t bother her much either.
The only ones who looked truly frustrated were her siblings.
Therion especially couldn’t stand hearing anyone belittle Kata’s abilities.
“Those worthless bastards don’t know anything…”
But Kata herself was fine. Insults and ridicule were things she could simply ignore.
What she truly feared was—
“Cough, cough… young lady.”
“Sister, show them what you can do!”
“Come back quickly!”
“Go back,” she said quietly.
Those things she could never protect.
The people who made her chest tighten with anxiety.
The privileged ones whose mere existence could leave her bruised, simply because she loved them.
KRAAANG!
Golden sword qi swept across the space.
Kata stared at the blinding light without once closing her eyes. Soram’s movements blurred inside that radiance.
Could she do it?
“…I don’t know.”
But the world did not arrange itself for her growth.
If she failed, one day she might fail to protect what mattered again.
Kata exhaled sharply. Her grip on the sword turned damp with sweat.
Soram raised a brow.
‘Her judgment is slipping?’
Kata had raised her blade and was trying to meet his attack head-on.
He smirked.
“Disappointing.”
If he were her, he would have avoided this strike no matter what. A frontal clash here was reckless.
The two swords collided violently.
KWAANG!
Soram slowly lifted his gaze.
And for the first time in a long while, he was genuinely surprised.
“….”
Wind pressure surged outward from the green sword qi. Yet Kata was not deflecting his blade—she was taking it head-on.
Despite her crude, straightforward approach, her stance remained unshaken.
Wasn’t she at her limit earlier? Soram frowned.
They exchanged several blows in an instant. Their swords intertwined, splitting the air with bursts of light.
‘It’s not an illusion.’
Soram’s expression hardened.
Donovan had gotten faster. Her sword qi stronger. Her blade sharper.
Was this even possible?
The fact she could still withstand his attacks already meant she had surpassed an ordinary first-awakener.
And yet this damn newcomer was trying to stand on equal ground with him.
Grinding his teeth, Soram forced her blade down.
Their swords tilted sideways. Under the explosive light, Kata’s jawline glowed unrealistically.
A chill ran down his spine.
As their faces came close, he realized something.
“…What.”
Katarenia Donovan was holding her breath.
Soram twisted his lips into a bitter grin. Almost laughing.
He had thought Simon was crazy—but there was someone even worse.
“What a reckless embodiment.”
“….”
“At this rate, you’ll hit your limit soon.”
Controlling breath was essential in combat. Yet she was suppressing her breathing to force out more mana—self-destructive, insane.
Even Richard, who babbled constantly in battle, was better than this. At least he only wasted breath, not cut it off entirely.
“How long can you keep holding your breath? Can you finish this in a minute?”
She did not answer.
In the windless hall, her mil-colored hair danced each time she swung her sword. Only the dried blood on her cheek remained still.
KAAANG!
The world flashed white.
And in that instant, Katarenia Donovan’s memory swept through Soram’s vision.
“One, two, three.”
A face submerged in water, counting numbers.
“….”
Soram blinked.
Sword qi was mana—and mana was shaped by memory.
Sometimes, when standing near someone releasing strong sword qi, fragments of their memories could be seen.
Not often. But not rare either.
Yet Soram’s expression darkened with confusion.
‘What is this?’
This was supposed to be a memory tied to survival instinct.
But what he had just seen was cold. Simple. Almost empty.
‘And this is what drives her will to live?’
At that moment—
The green sword qi surged and pressed down on his blade for a brief instant.
“How dare—!”
