The moment the battle started, I went straight for the offensive. No flair, no grand opening flourish—just a series of quick probing attacks meant to test his defense.

My rapier darted forward, light and precise, but within a few seconds, I knew something was off.

Kai didn’t block like a rookie or even a seasoned fighter. He deflected with fluidity, his dao sweeping my blade aside with practiced ease. One particularly forceful strike sent a tremor up my arm as my rapier was shoved wide.

Instantly, it was obvious—he was stronger.

Great. Another powerhouse. But unlike Amogelang’s brute-force approach, Kai was old and experienced. His movements weren’t rushed; they were deliberate, each one calculated. He didn’t waste energy—everything he did served a purpose.

And the chain?

Oh, he used it creatively, alright. Like an extension of his arm, it coiled and whipped around, forcing me to adjust constantly.

The dull whip-whap sound of wood against air filled my ears as the chain lashed out. I sidestepped one strike and parried another with my dagger; the impact making my hand sting. My rapier danced defensively, but I could feel the pressure mounting.

He didn’t push recklessly—he was drawing me in, waiting for an opening.

A sudden flick of his wrist sent the chain arcing toward my legs. I barely had time to leap back, the wooden links brushing my ankle with a muted clatter against the ground. Thankfully, it wasn’t a proper weapon, so losing points if it connected wasn’t a concern.

Still, the fact that he was using it to control the flow of the fight was as annoying as Riker’s coat.

My breathing quickened, the faint metallic tang of adrenaline filling my mouth and I tightened my grip on the rapier’s hilt, the leather wrapping slightly damp from the sweat on my palms.

The artificial lights overhead gleamed off the polished surface of his dao, and every time it moved, I caught brief flashes of his calm, focused expression. He wasn’t just good—he was disciplined, composed. His style was like master Dalileh.

I never won.

I was on the defensive, forced to block, dodge, and dance around his endless assault. The crowd noise faded into the background, leaving only the rhythmic clink-thud of his chain and the occasional grunt of effort from both of us.

I could feel my frustration flowing beneath the surface, but I shoved it down. Losing my cool wouldn’t help. I needed an alternative approach—something he wouldn’t expect.

With a steady breath, I shifted into the twelfth form of the Imperial style.

My movements became fluid, like water gliding over the imperial garden. Each step, each strike, flowed effortlessly into the next. For a moment, I felt the tide turn in my favor.

Kai was on the defensive, his dao deflecting my rapier in controlled arcs, but I could see it—his footing shifting ever so slightly as I pressed the attack.

The boulders scattered across the battlefield weren’t just scenery anymore—they became tools.

I leapt onto one, using the elevated position to strike downward, my fake metal of rapier glinting in the holo-lights above. He sidestepped, smooth as ever, but I was already moving, using the momentum to sweep around and force him back toward another boulder.

For a moment, it worked. For a moment, I had him.

But then, as if he’d grown bored with being polite, Kai kicked up his pace. His dao swung with more precision, more force, and I retreated, despite giving it everything I had. Every strike I sent his way was met with a flawless counter. Every attempt to outmaneuver him was neutralized before it could take root.

My breath came faster, the air in the hall dry and electric with the hum of holo-projectors.

The crowd’s murmur buzzed distantly in my ears, blending with the rhythmic clash of wood weapons and the dull thud of his wooden chain hitting the boulders.

I was at my peak—my peak strength, my peak creativity—and still, I couldn’t get past him.

It was like sparring with Master Dalileh all over again. No matter how hard I pushed, no matter how clever my footwork or unpredictable my strikes, she had always been a step ahead, untouchable.

You can’t win, Charlie, whispered a voice in the back of my mind. Might as well wave a white flag and call it a day. Imperial gardens all over again.

But then, something happened.

Kai smiled.

He shook his head ever so slightly and slowed his pace. The calm, almost amused expression on his face sent a ripple of irritation through me.

Oh, so you’re not even using all your strength? You think I’m some beginner to humor?

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The thought lit a fire in my chest.

I didn’t care if he was holding back—I wasn’t done yet.

I shifted into the thirteenth form, the most chaotic and unpredictable sequence in the Imperial style. My strikes came faster, more erratic, one blending into the next without a discernible pattern.

It wasn’t about strength anymore; it was about keeping him guessing, never allowing him to settle into a rhythm.

For the first time, I saw a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. He was on the defensive now, forced to focus entirely on countering my unpredictable barrage.

But just as quickly, he adapted.

His fluid movements became sharper, more deliberate, and once again, he matched me strike for strike.

Fantastic. He’s like a mirror. A smug, infuriating mirror with a dao and a wooden chain.

I bit my lip, frustration seething beneath the surface, but I didn’t let it show. Instead, I grinned, the kind of grin that hid exhaustion beneath bravado.

If I was going to lose, I’d at least go out with a bang.

With a sudden burst of energy, I vaulted off a nearby boulder, my rapier poised for an all-or-nothing strike. The air rushed past me, cool and sharp against my skin. Time seemed to slow as I descended toward him, every muscle in my body coiled and ready to unleash everything I had left.

Kai’s eyes met mine. He smiled again, that knowing, maddening smile. And then he made what looked like a mistake—his footing shifted ever so slightly, his balance just off enough to create an opening.

No way. That wasn’t a mistake.

I knew it wasn’t, but I didn’t care. I committed to the strike, my rapier landing precisely over his heart. The holo-projector registered the hit with a brief shimmer, signaling my victory.

Kai’s eyes widened, just for a heartbeat, before he gave a low, graceful bow. “Well done,” he said, stepping back with a nod of genuine respect. “Relentless, like the tide against the stubborn shore. Sword Queen, you have shown true spirit. That was… most impressive.”

I stood there, still catching my breath, but instead of triumph, I felt… hollow. It wasn’t the victory I had wanted.

I should have lost, and yet I didn’t.

The battle wasn’t meant to end like this. “Kai—” I began, the unease slipping into my voice, but he lifted a hand, halting me mid-sentence.

“Now is not the moment,” he breathed, his eyes flicking toward Riker’s glowing form approaching us. “Look.” He turned, and before I could process what he meant, something small flew toward me. I caught it instinctively—a sleek black card, its surface embossed with a number. “Join me when we’re finished. I would be grateful.”

What? This is so… cool?

Before I could respond, the moment was stolen by Riker. I raised a hand to shield my eyes as his beaming coat drew closer. “The Sword Queen emerges victorious! That was, without question, the most breathtaking display of skill I have ever witnessed! Bravo—truly, bravo to both of you!” His voice dropped, mic-muted, as he leaned toward Kai. “As the Chosen One, I need you to stay here and bask in the crowd’s adoration after she leaves, alright?”

Kai offered only a single, stoic nod, his expression unreadable, the same as ever. I was tired and could hardly form thoughts.

“Now!” Riker’s voice blasted at full volume once again, amplified by the sound system that rattled the very air around us. “Let loose the grandest, thunderous applause you can muster for our triumphant, unparalleled Sword Queen! Let the very heavens hear your roar!”

I turned toward the very big hall, taking in the sea of faces before me. They erupted in a standing ovation, the thunderous clapping and cheering echoing off the walls, reverberating through my chest. The energy was electric, crackling in the air like a brewing storm.

I couldn’t help but give them a tired grin, adrenaline still coursing through my veins.

With a last fume of my energy, I spun my rapier in a quick flourish, the fake blade catching the lights in a dazzling arc. The crowd’s cheers swelled even louder, and with one final dramatic twirl, my cape flared behind me as I turned on my heel and left the stage, leaving them hungry for more.

Time to decompress. Maybe even breathe.

Just a little.

Backstage was a series of cheers, high-fives, and declarations of me being the best. Yeah, right. People clapped me on the back, shouted that I was, but honestly?

I didn’t feel like it.

I was exhausted. My legs felt like jelly, my arms like lead, and deep down, I knew I should’ve lost that fight. But… here I was, basking in praise I wasn’t sure I deserved.

Honestly, the next hour was a blur. I vaguely remembered shuffling into a room where Lola guided me to a shower. The water was a blessing, washing away the sweat, grime, and whatever weird energy Riker radiated that seemed to cling to everything.

By the time I stepped out, Lola was already waiting with—of course—another set of cosplay, courtesy of Riker’s unrelenting flair. Identical to the one I’d sweated through, but this version was even more annoyingly silky. Does he just have these things preloaded for every scenario?

I slipped into it, flopping onto the bed with a groan of utter exhaustion.

“Finally.”

Breathing hard, but already feeling like a human again. Half an hour of lying there, staring at the ceiling, and my scrambled thoughts were lining up.

“You really give it your all,” came a voice from beside me, startling me enough to jolt upright. I whipped my head around and saw Lola awkwardly sitting on the edge of the bed.

“You asked me to sit down,” she added quickly, looking somewhere between flustered and mildly amused. “But, Lady, I—”

“I did what?!” My voice came out more like a squawk, pure disbelief written across my face. “Oh, god, I’m sorry!”

Lola smiled nervously, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I figured you were tired… You told me my ponytail was as sexy as when I cut down some J… something boss. I didn’t do that, though?”

Oh. Oh no. The memory hit me like a brick. I actually said that out loud? I talk out loud after working out watching Katherine stream…

“I… I think…” I bit my lip, my brain scrambling for something remotely dignified to say. “Your ponytail… will catch a lot of attention,” I muttered lamely.

Great save, Charlie. Really. Award-winning performance. Naturally, Lola turned redder than a fire mage mid-flame burst.

“Sorry, I—I was just really tired. You know how it is. Exhaustion, rambling… occasionally flirting with your assistant apparently?” I added with a sheepish grin, wishing I could sink through the bed and vanish. Classic me—conquer the arena, then promptly embarrass myself in private.

To my relief, Lola managed a shy laugh, her blush fading. “It’s okay, Lady Charlie. You were exhausted. It happens.”

Exhausted or not, I was filing this entire moment under the do not repeat category. Right next to accidentally calling Jerry a sentient toaster and thinking I could fight in heels without practice.

“Okay, so, Lola, you know I actually lost, right?” I said, trying to suppress the frustration bubbling under the surface. Spoiler alert: I couldn’t.

She blinked at me, clearly baffled. “You didn’t! That fight was amazing! I know nothing about technique, but you won.”

I let out a long breath and hung my head. “I…” My voice trailed off. The words felt heavy. “Kai let me win.”

Her eyes widened in genuine surprise. “He did? Why would he do that?”

“Jer…” I caught myself just before blurting out Jerry’s name. That would’ve been fun to explain. “Uhm, I mean, I need to ask my AI to call his number.”

Her surprise turned into mild curiosity, but she didn’t press. “Why? That’s… why he let you win?”

“Exactly,” I muttered, rubbing my temple.