A good time

Stretching my arms, I can't help but overhear Biana's incessant whining. I roll my eyes, trying not to show how much I genuinely loathe the girl. I mean, could she be more obnoxious? Every word out of her mouth just makes me want to shove one of those mana stones down her throat.

She yawns, fixing me with a drowsy glare. I pretend not to notice, because frankly, I don't care about her or her sleep-deprived eyes. Instead, my attention is firmly set on Isadora. This emotionless sword-girl always intrigued me. The idea of facing her in combat always tickled my fancy. But with Kael always playing the overprotective babysitter, I never had the chance to truly spar with her. Now, however, the situation is a tad bit different.

Seeing Isadora reach into her pouch and pull out another sword, I can't help the smirk that forms on my face. Ah, now this is going to be interesting. I mean, yes, Biana is there too, but she's about as threatening as a stuffed toy. No, Isadora is the real deal.

"Hmm, fresh blade?" I quip, a playful lilt in my voice. "Hope it lasts longer than the last one."

Biana, clearly frustrated that I'm ignoring her, snaps, "Who do you think you are? Walking around our lands, wearing... whatever the hell that is?" She waves a lazy hand towards my all-black get-up.

"Who am I? Just someone out for a stroll," I reply nonchalantly, all the while keeping a close eye on Isadora's every move. "And as for the outfit? Well, fashion isn't everyone's forte."

The look Biana gives me suggests she'd love to slap me, but she's too tired to muster up the energy. Instead, she mumbles something under her breath and leans against a tree, looking as if she might nod off at any moment. Honestly, I don't understand why Kael hangs around her.

Isadora, in contrast, remains silent, her unwavering gaze fixed on me. Even without words, her intent is clear. She's ready to fight.

"You really going to attack me without saying a word? Very well," I chuckle, excitement bubbling within me. "But just know, if you scratch my new outfit, I'm sending the bill to you. That guy will kill me if the outfit is ruined."

The slight twitch of Isadora's brow is the only indication that she heard me. But I don't need words. Tsk, just why doesn't she talk? 

Taking in Isadora's unwavering stance, I'm genuinely impressed. "Confident for a human," I muse to myself. This woman in front of me, poised and resolute, stands ready to face a stranger in the middle of a forest with no hesitation. No ounce of fear, no second-guessing; just pure, unadulterated intent.

I attempt to rub my chin in contemplation but hit the mask. Annoyed, I end up just rubbing the mask. Damn thing. "Hmm... To fight or not to fight?" I ponder, stealing a glance at Biana, who seems to have dozed off amidst all the tension. How? Like, how can she even sleep at a time like this? Truly a remarkable level of laziness.

Kael had mentioned before that Biana is a lot stronger than she appears, but honestly, right now, she just looks... squishy. Still, there's something about Isadora that intrigues me. Would a little tussle hurt? Nah. In fact, it might just be what I need to take my mind off the infuriatingly serene Kael.

Watching Isadora cloak herself and her sword in aura gives me the final push. Oh, she's serious. And here I thought she'd back off. When she points towards the exit of the forest, offering me an out, I can't help but burst into laughter.

"This human is really giving me an exit after attempting to kill me? How generous," I think, the amusement evident in my eyes. "Let's give her a surprise."

Based on what I've seen from her at the Academy, she always gets momentarily flustered when someone exceeds her expectations. Well, I aim to exploit that. Clenching my muscles, but consciously deciding to forgo any aura enhancement, I charge at her. She seems ready, raising her sword to block my incoming punch. But, as expected, she vastly underestimates the raw strength I possess.

The moment my fist connects with her blade, Isadora is sent hurtling backward. Trees snap under the force of her trajectory. However, just before she smashes through another one, she exhibits an impressive feat of agility, flipping mid-air and landing gracefully on her feet. I'll admit, that was impressive.

She looks up, the ever-present blank expression on her face. Still, I could've sworn I detected a hint of surprise in her eyes.

"You good there, emotionless? Didn't mean to knock the wind out of you," I say with a cheeky grin. My internal voice is less gracious, though. "A bit rusty on the technique, but damn that felt good."

She remains silent, simply repositioning herself, sword at the ready.

"Round two?" I tease, already eager for what promises to be an exhilarating bout.

A gentle rustling behind me diverts my attention for a split second. I glance back, finding Biana snuggling closer to her pillow, lost in dreamland.

Clicking my tongue in mild annoyance, I prepare myself to engage. But before I even realize what's happening, a gust of wind sweeps past me, and in a fraction of a second, Isadora is right in front of me. There's no time to react. She's fast, almost impossibly so.

The blade is aimed at my midsection, and I grab it with both hands, gritting my teeth from the force behind the swing. Damn, the bitch is strong. The ground beneath us cracks and then crumbles, creating a crater as the sheer force of our clash pushes me down.

Seemingly unsatisfied with her initial assault, Isadora swiftly retracts her sword and launches a fierce kick at my stomach. I don't even have a moment to counter. The impact sends me hurtling back, trees snapping and ground tearing up in my wake.

Fuck. I can feel the sting of the attack, and more than that, the sting to my pride. As I stabilize myself and regain my footing, my veins pop in rage. "You disrespectful shit," I seethe. "Is this how you treat a guest on your land?"

Without waiting for a response, I lunge at Isadora. My attacks are wild, driven more by anger than any particular strategy. But each of my swipes, kicks, and punches are effortlessly dodged or blocked by her. It's humiliating. Every time I think I have an edge, she's two steps ahead.

"This fucking girl!" I scream internally, growing more and more irritated. My every failed hit only adds to my rising fury.

Suddenly, monsters—probably attracted by our ruckus—begin to make their way towards us. But neither of us spares them more than a passing glance. In the midst of our battle, a creature lunges at me, only to be met with a swift kick to the head. I hear its skull crack before it collapses lifelessly. Isadora fares similarly, slicing through another creature that tries to interrupt our intense duel.

But my focus is solely on her. And with each passing moment, my annoyance grows. "Damn it, just let me hit you!" I huff, swinging my fist in another attempt.

She evades once more, and I can't contain my anger. "Stand still, you slippery bitch!"

Isadora remains infuriatingly silent, her blade dancing effortlessly, always striking and never being struck. My face turns a shade redder with every block, every miss. The surrounding environment begins to bear witness to our battle, trees splintering and the ground shaking with our impacts.

It's clear as day. My raw power against her honed skill. Each of my attacks packs a punch, but she knows just how to deflect, dodge, and redirect. My pride, my very essence as a dragon, won't let me back down, but fuck, she's making me work for it.

-

Lysandra's back slams into a rock, the impact vibrating through her frame. Breathing heavily, she pushes herself upright, wincing as she feels the twinge in her spine. Her eyes blaze with defiance, fury, and a touch of humility. "Fuck, I need to calm down," she thinks. A reluctant realization creeps in, "Dammit, I hate to admit it but Kael is right. I have no self-control."

As Isadora gathers herself, preparing to strike once more, Lysandra taps into her core. Her mana unfurls, and it's immediately clear this is no ordinary display. While most emanate a familiar blue hue, Lysandra's mana is a vibrant, swirling mix of orange, red, and blue. It stabilizes, coating her in a fiery aura that crackles with raw power.

Isadora's usually unchanging eyes widen in surprise. The visual is not just unusual—it's unheard of. Even with Lysandra's face obscured by her mask, the weight of her gaze pierces through, locking onto Isadora with a challenge and a promise.

Lysandra, taking a moment to fully stand, brushes off her clothes with a nonchalance that contradicts the palpable tension in the air. She grins, voice dripping with arrogance, "Don't worry, I won't use any magic. You don't qualify for that."

The typically unruffled Isadora looks genuinely baffled. This spectacle was outside her realm of experience. Yet, before she can even begin to process this anomaly, the situation shifts again. She blinks, and in that brief moment, Lysandra has closed the gap between them.

Isadora's instincts scream for her to move, to block, to do anything. But she's a split second too slow. Lysandra's fist connects solidly with her gut, sending the sword-girl rocketing backward, crashing through multiple trees in succession.

"I know you're stronger," Lysandra calls out, her voice echoing through the forest, "so you better go all out before you pass out."

Pushing up from the earth, Isadora takes a few ragged breaths, trying to refill the lungs Lysandra had effectively emptied. For the first time, her ever-neutral face shows a clear emotion: determination. The stakes have changed, and she's all in.

Lysandra grins, a chuckle escaping her lips as she lands a solid punch on Isadora, sending the girl crashing into a massive, sleek tiger. The animal roars in surprise and anger. Without missing a beat, Isadora rises, swiftly thrusting her sword into the tiger's neck, silencing its cries.

"What's wrong, bitch?" Lysandra teases, her voice dripping with mockery. "What happened to that confidence?"

Isadora merely sighs in response, adjusting her grip on the sword. But as Lysandra gears up for another punch, there's a sudden, palpable shift in the atmosphere. Isadora's aura begins to surge, enveloping her in an intense light. Lysandra's eyebrows shoot up, an impressed whistle escaping her lips. "Wow~ you've got quite a lot in you, don't you?"

But Isadora's transformation isn't complete. The already potent aura around her sword hardens, the blade taking on a new, even more solid form. Lysandra's eyes widen in genuine shock. "Wow, seriously, are you human?"

With newfound vigor, Isadora charges. In a fraction of a second, her sword is at Lysandra's neck. Instinctively, Lysandra's defenses activate, and ice forms on her skin, pushing the sword away. But Isadora doesn't relent.

"Seriously, you have such control over aura at such a young age," Lysandra comments, almost musingly, even as Isadora dashes towards her.

In her mind, Lysandra groans. 'Kael is going to be insufferable after hearing about this.'

As she braces herself, Lysandra raises her palm, and from it emanates a stunning, vibrant flame of orange-red hue. With that same hand, she grasps Isadora's aura-infused sword. The earth trembles under the force of their clash, a massive crater forming beneath them.

The aftermath of the impact leaves a thick cloud of dust, obscuring vision. When it finally settles, Isadora's gaze lands on Lysandra, who, against all odds, is holding onto her aura sword. The flame in Lysandra's hand isn't just resisting the aura – it's devouring it, melting the solidified sword underneath.

Their eyes meet – one filled with surprise, the other with unabated arrogance.