Chapter 159 - Nathan and Beatrix

Beatrix:

I stood facing Nathan Evenhart.

"We’ll follow the same rules as before. I’ll only use the sword—no elemental power. Just classic swordplay. You’re free to use any spells, even lethal ones," I declared, taking my stance.

"I’ll stick to swordsmanship as well. It’s been a while since I’ve had this much fun," Nathan replied with a confident smile, raising his sword with both ease and precision.

"That's the spirit," I acknowledged, noticing the determination in his eyes.

He took his fighting stance, aiming his blade towards me. "Shall we begin?" he asked.

"Absolutely!" I responded, but suddenly, I felt something. An invisible and unsettling presence swept over me, as if the air around us had grown heavy.

What is that?

I instinctively took a step back, trying to grasp what had just happened. There was something beyond ordinary comprehension present on the field.

"Excellent! You’re a true warrior. Your battle instinct is so sharp that you’re immune to it," Nathan remarked, seemingly pleased. His voice was calm, but what was he hinting at?

Looking around, I saw some students at a distance looking confused, and a few even collapsed on the ground, as if an unseen force had struck them.

Immune to what?

For a fleeting moment, I felt a killing intent in the air, as if I’d unknowingly stepped on the tail of a tiger. But just as quickly as it came, it vanished.

Was that… him?

I’d heard stories about warriors who could manifest pure killing intent—nightmarish tales of those forged through sheer survival against death. I’d always assumed it was myth.

It must have been a coincidence; that can’t be real.

"I’ll let you take the first move," I offered.

"Very well." Nathan smiled and charged at me.

As he approached, I sensed something unsettling.

His eyes... he's watching me with an intense focus that's almost unsettling.

Nathan Evenhart was analyzing me, calculating each move, studying every detail with uncanny precision. He was synchronizing his stance and reactions with mine, almost as if he were predicting my moves.

How could someone so young reach this level? It took me years to get here.

"Watch yourself, professor," Nathan warned, snapping me back to the moment.

His sword was dangerously close to my neck, but my body reacted instinctively. I blocked the attack and, with a quick thrust, shifted my weight against him. Nathan slid his blade along mine, angling it with expert precision towards my hand.

I raised my knee, aiming to strike him, but he blocked with his elbow, then, with a swift movement, pushed me back using his free hand. I stepped back and spun, delivering a kick. He ducked and rolled to the side with feline agility, easily evading.

He lunged at me, pressing his blade against mine, trying to find an opening. I threw a punch to push him back, but he deftly redirected my fist upward and retreated with practiced ease.

"Good reflexes," I praised, not wasting a second and rushing back into the fray.

I leapt over him, swinging my sword down. He managed to block, but I pressed the attack, placing my hand on the blade to amplify the force, aiming to break his stance.

Nathan Evenhart swiftly shifted his strength to propel me forward as he skillfully sidestepped to the side.

“Smart,” he remarked, without losing his breath. “That would’ve broken my stance… It could’ve killed someone on the battlefield.”

I smiled, appreciating his insight. “I see I have an excellent student,” I replied as I charged back towards him.

Our blades met in a series of rapid strikes, each of us attempting to break the other’s stance. I spun, bringing my sword in a horizontal arc aimed at his midsection. But with a surprisingly quick move, he crossed his blade with mine, sliding it along the edge to escape to the side, following my rotation with fluid precision.

Impossible!

He had evaded a technique that only one other person, aside from myself, knew how to counter.

“Who trained you?” I asked, raising my sword, still processing his dexterity.

“A God of Battle,” he replied with a grin.

A God of Battle? That title belongs to me—and to my former master.

“Impossible. My father doesn’t have any more students. Even though I haven’t seen him in years, I know he wouldn’t train anyone else.”

Could my father have had another student besides my brother and me? It seems unlikely. He even refused to train my niece, and she went on to become an Inquisitor.

Nathan scratched his head, looking a bit confused.

“It was a different God of Battle—not your father,” he said, correcting himself.

We advanced at the same time, without any need for words or coordination. I altered my combat style, focusing on quick, precise thrusts as I moved at full speed towards him. The boy, with impressive accuracy, deflected each thrust just enough to redirect my blade.

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I smiled, feeling the adrenaline rush. Taking advantage of the moment, I spun around and landed a kick on his arm. Using the momentum, I attempted a martial arts move, aiming to lock his arm with my leg and immobilize him mid-air. However, he followed my spin, displaying a surprising level of skill, and as we fell, he quickly rolled away, avoiding the finish.

He’s trained in martial arts too…

As he rolled away, I charged again, bringing my sword down in a diagonal arc—a technique that couldn't be blocked by conventional sword positions.

If he doesn't know what to do, he’ll be defeated.

But just as the blade was about to hit him, he smirked. Nathan twisted his wrist with surreal precision, doing what I thought was impossible.

“He blocked!?” I exclaimed, shocked. He had countered my technique using the very tip of his sword, a feat that few could accomplish.

The impact reverberated through my arms, and for a moment, I was stunned. The boy before me possessed skills far beyond what I had anticipated. Our swords had collided, but the most impressive part was that the tips of the blades were perfectly aligned, and neither yielded to the other’s pressure.

Impossible! How did he manage to block the very tip of my blade with his own? It’s like trying to make two needle tips meet at high speed.

“This is getting fun. I’ve always had to hold back,” he said with a confident smile, as if he was only just getting started.

Without wasting a moment, I turned my body to attack him from the other side. The boy dodged, knowing he couldn’t block the blow directly. I advanced, throwing a kick as I brought my sword down simultaneously. He raised his arm, and with a skilled flick of his sword, blocked my kick.

Strength from above is superior to that from below, I thought, as I brought my blade down with full force, knowing he had no way to block it. Nathan’s resistance faltered for a moment, and he retreated. I seized the opportunity and landed a direct punch to his stomach.

“Nice!” he exclaimed, not showing a hint of hesitation, even after the impact.

I looked at his hands, surprised.

Where’s his sword!?

Before I could react, Nathan grabbed my wrist with both hands, his gaze full of determination.

Is he trying to break my wrist?

Suddenly, he pulled me forward with force, spinning his body with a clear martial arts technique, trying to use my weight against me.

Smart kid. Does he think that’ll work on me?

He spun me at great speed, and I let him guide my arm, readying myself to counterattack. When my arm reached his head level, I moved my fist, planning to strike his head and knock him out.

It’s over, kid. I’m stronger than you.

But just as I was about to strike him, I felt a sudden impact on my stomach. Even while facing away, Nathan had delivered a precise kick to my midsection.

He tried to trick me... the little rascal wanted to push me back.

I underestimated him for a moment.

I took a quick step back to avoid the kick and brought my sword closer, ready to land the finishing blow. I kicked him in the back, sending him flying, and as he tried to turn around, I closed in.

“It’s over!” I declared, pointing my sword as he turned, seemingly unarmed.

“It’s just beginning!” Nathan replied, with a confident grin. He raised his hand, and to my surprise, his sword fell directly into his grasp, already pointed at me.

Did he throw the sword up and calculate the exact moment it would fall back down?

My mind could barely keep up with the audacity of that move.

But before I could react, something black came rushing at me.

“We’ve been interrupted,” I said, quickly dodging and deflecting what seemed to be a sleek figure attempting to attack.

“You’re getting predictable, Thyra,” I said, recognizing the wolf-girl, who was glaring at me with her claws bared.

“Trying to strike a distracted opponent?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Wolves hunt that way too!” she replied, launching a fierce punch. With a swift gesture, I created a wall of air between us. Thyra struck it with force, trying to break through with sheer brute strength.

Before I could fully respond to Thyra’s charge, the boy was back, appearing beside me and swinging his sword in an attack.

“I thought we were done,” I remarked, blocking his sword.

“And end the dance at the best part?” he countered, as our swords clashed again, the metallic sound echoing around us.

I maintained the air wall with one hand while fighting Nathan with the other, balancing the pressure on both sides.

“Time to up the difficulty,” I warned, a challenging glint in my eyes.

“Bring it on,” he replied, without a trace of hesitation.

“Thyra will kill!” the wolf-girl yelled, lunging at my legs, trying to knock me down with a low attack.

They’re both pressing me at the same time…

I raised my sword overhead, ready for a decisive move.

Time to show what I’m really capable of.

“Blade Cyclone!” My wind armor exploded across my body as I spun, releasing the force in a 360-degree blast. Both Nathan and Thyra were flung back by the impact.

The boy fell backward but, surprisingly, got back on his feet quickly.

“It’s over!” I ran toward Nathan, pointing my sword directly at him.

I neutralized the most dangerous one.

I pressed the blade lightly against his neck, and Nathan, with a tired smile, raised both hands in surrender.

“You left me a little deaf…” he murmured, rubbing his ears, clearly still rattled by the wind blast.

“It’ll pass. It’s meant to leave opponents defenseless in battle. Try moving your jaw like you’re chewing, and the ear pressure should lessen. It’s a wind technique that mimics the pressure from altitude changes while releasing a gust of wind,” I explained as I reached out, pulling him up by the hands.

“Keep your body straight; it’ll work better,” I said, giving him a friendly pat on the head. “Good fight, kid.”

“I still can’t hear properly…” he grumbled.

I laughed. “If I’d used the technique seriously, your ears would be bleeding, and you’d have some broken bones.”

“Mind if I steal that technique?” he asked.

I laughed again.

“It took me ten years to refine that spell, kid. That’s not something you learn overnight… what’s your element, anyway?”

As we talked, I noticed Thyra creeping toward me. But upon seeing me, she hesitated and backed away.

“Thyra!” a familiar voice called out.

The wolf-girl turned pale, instantly recognizing who had called her.

“Auntie…” she murmured, lowering her head in resignation.

Headmistress Victoria appeared, a serious expression on her face as she surveyed the scene.

“Headmistress,” I greeted her respectfully.

“Judging by Thyra’s face, it seems she tried to kill you again,” the headmistress sighed deeply.

“We were just playing around,” I replied, trying to lighten the situation.

Thyra kept her gaze fixed on the ground, visibly remorseful.

“Am I in trouble?” she asked, almost inaudibly.

“Not yet… I’ll find out exactly what you did, and we’ll have a talk later,” the headmistress said firmly. “But I’m here to handle another matter.”

Her words were unexpected; something felt off.

“What brings you here, Headmistress?” I asked, curious.

She pointed at Nathan, who was still massaging his ears, looking confused.

“I’m here to take a problematic student for a chat,” she replied, pulling Nathan Evenhart along.

“Wait… what did I do?” he asked, as she dragged him away.

“I just feel like bothering you,” the headmistress said with a smile, pulling him toward the building.

Some students approached me, still in awe of what they had witnessed.

“That was incredible, Professor,” one of them remarked, eyes shining with excitement.

“You were just going easy on them, right? Just guiding the fight for our learning?” another asked, curious.

“Of course,” I replied, raising my sword and trying to sound nonchalant. “I just match your level. You all know that.”

But in reality… I thought, looking at the sword, those two could’ve actually killed me if I hadn’t been entirely focused. Especially the boy. He was thinking two steps ahead of me in the fight. What would’ve happened if we hadn’t been interrupted?

The line reformed, and the lesson continued. Even so, my mind was elsewhere, caught up in recent events. I glanced once more in the direction where the headmistress had taken Nathan.

Nathan Evenhart... how do you have the cunning of a seasoned warrior at your age?

Something about him didn’t add up—how could a fifteen-year-old boy possess that level of swordsmanship?

As I prepared to call the next student, an irritating itch flared up on my neck. I reached up to touch the area, and a wave of shock hit me.

Blood? Was I wounded on my neck? When did that happen? I hadn’t even felt it.

A small drop of blood trickled down my fingers, and a chill ran through my body.

I could have died… I thought, a shiver running down my spine.

It was the first time I’d come so close to death. If the strike had been just a bit stronger, I’d be dead.

I looked in the direction Nathan Evenhart had gone, and then where Thyra had disappeared to.

Which one of them? Which one of them almost killed me?