Chapter 118: I Have To Win!
Myron's lips were tightly pursed not only in anger but in fear that opening his mouth would have the dagger blade stabbing deeper into him than it had already had but in his eyes were not the look of a defeated man but rather the look of a resolute Knight who still had confidence that he had one card up his sleeves.
And sure enough,
Myron clenched his fist towards his sword and the weapon twitched on the ground before flying up into his tight grip. The sequence was half a second long and so fast, that a majority of eyes were unable to follow.
Myron swung his sword and parried his sister's dagger away from his mouth before leaping and delivering a knee strike to her jaw which sent her staggering a few steps back. She was so stunned, that she left one of her daggers in his body and her hold of the other was so loose it neared falling out of her grip but she quickly shook all that off when she felt Myron dashing toward her.
She raised her weapon and parried away the sword blade with a sharp *Clang* only to be blindsided when Myron manipulated the resulting momentum to sidestep and swing for her side...
*Sksh*
... Cutting through her cloth and flesh to draw blood.
"Ah- Nghh" Myrine started to yell only to be forced into a groan when she was kicked completely off the stage.
*Wham!* Join the community at m,vlemp _yr.
*BAM*
Myron relaxed his stance a bit. Sneering at her stirring on the floor,
"'You win?'" he said snidely, "Sister, to lose to you would be a shame I can not wash off. You have impressed me but every one of your moves has proven what I have already made clear; You've grown weak... You've grown soft."
"Saying that while bleeding all over from her dagger stabs is certainly a funny way to showboat," Evian said with multiple sniggers, loud enough to be heard all over the arena.
His Mother was now on her feet but no one was watching. All eyes were on the Grey-haired Stygian whose snigger turned into a chottle and finally into loud mocking laughter.
"Nephew, it is admirable that you try to save your Mother some face..." Myron started but Evian interrupted quickly.
"Saving her face? Hahaha, why would I have to do that?" he asked before gesturing at his Mother who stood as proudly as she could with one hand over her wound,
"She still stands. This isn't over yet."
"How is it not?" Myron asked, "Clearly, I have won."
"Clearly you have not," Evian said with a condescending shake of his head, "If it's by cuts, Mother wins. If it's by landed hits, Mother wins, If it's by blood loss... Well, so clearly, Mother wins."
"She's off the Stage," Myron said even as his Sister climbed back on.
Evian shrugged,
"And so what?" he asked, "I don't remember that being a Rule."
"Boy, you don't know of what you speak," Myron said and waved Evian off.
"Yes, Evian, keep quiet," Adrian voiced out in an annoyed voice, "Stay out of it. It's not in our place to speak to this."
Evian rolled his eyes aggressively at his brother,
"Of course, you'll voice support for your uncle, you Cunt," he said with a disparaging tone, "You're both equally as foolish."
Adrian stood to his feet angrily and Myron raised his sword and pointed it at Evian,
"Boy, watch your mouth."
"Oh put that thing down," Evian said, "Threatening me makes you look weak rather than strong, you fool! As for Adrian, you're just as useless on your feet as you are sitting down so don't embarrass yourself trying to act tough. It doesn't suit you.
That said, let's just look to the Moderator, she'll tell us if this is at an end or not."
All eyes went to Zayda, including Myron who was seething at how Evian had spoken to him.
Zayda sighed,
"I gave only one rule; 'This is not to the death so lethal strikes are to be kept to a minimum'.
I will decide based on that when this ends and for now, the Duel continues."
In response to Zayda's verdict, Myrine raised her dagger and took on an attacking stance. She took a deep breath and with the use of Spiritual energy as First aid, she reduced the quantity of blood she lost with a hardened resolution.
Myron chuckled and gripped the handle of her dagger still stabbed into his side. He pulled it out and sent it into his Spatial Ring,
"Now you only have one," he said.
"One is enough," Myrine said and dashed forward.
She might not have looked it, but she was embarrassed. Although Myron expected that she had slacked off in her battle sense, she refused to believe it. She wished to fight as she used to and the Old her would not have gotten kicked off the stage.
She was saddened that she had to admit to herself that she had indeed lost a lot of rhythm but since the Duel continued, she decided to remain right on course to put her Brother in his place and cull his continuous disrespect.
*Clang*
*Clang*
*Clang*
Weapons clashed. Dagger against sword, repeatedly with none willing to give in. None was willing to be pushed away and be forced on the back foot and for that, almost all restraint was gone as they both let loose all of their skills just to hurt the other.
'Funny thing' about it all was the fact that they did so 'with love'.
*Bam!*
A kick knocked Myron's face to the side. He tasted blood but endured the pain and nulled the stunning effect just so he could retaliate with a kick of his own.
Myrine caught his leg with her left hand and with a beautiful dagger spin in her right hand, she stabbed through her brother's thigh.
"Ahhh," Myron yelled but Myrine was not yet done.
She pulled out the dagger, pulled Myron with her hand on his leg, and swung toward his chest.
Myron leaned back and survived the attack so it was only his shirt that was cut through but without balance, all Myrine had to do was kick his other leg and send him to the ground.
*Thud!*
With the sound of Myron's fall, Myrine twisted the leg she was holding, adding to the stinging pain of her stab and then she raised her leg and stomped down on her brother's abdomen, an obvious attempt to rob him of the ability to take easy breaths.
*Ssssss*
Myron sucked in a breath through his teeth, reinforced the strength in his leg, and wrestled against his Sister's hold to pull free and roll away from her stomp.
"Myrine!" he let out when he got back to his feet, hobbled, "How can you not see I am doing this for you! Your place is not here, I've remained idle for years..."
"Idle?" Lord Stygian voiced out so loudly from where he sat that everyone in the Arena heard.
Myron ignored him and continued,
"... I can't lose to you because that will prove me wrong and keep you here. I have to win. I have to show you just how much you have fallen from grace that your little brother, the one who always relied on you, can humiliate you in front of those whom you now call Family- Those whom you now care for more than me."
Myrine shook her head,
"Your stance is misguided- Your wish for me is without consideration for my choices. You could have passed your message without being disparaging
You will lose. Not because you're weak but because as I have already made clear, it doesn't matter where I am, what I'm doing, who I'm with, I will always be better than you...
... You will always be second best."
"Ahhhh... I will WINNNN!"
Myron charged, his movement so emotionally charged, that he appeared to have gotten stronger. The thing was, even in her calm stillness, Myrine was the same and when she moved to meet his attacks, her speed appeared spiked.
She dodged his sword swing, kicked his stomach,
*Bam!*
She dodged yet another and punched him in the face.
*Wham*
And then she struck him with a blast of pressure that sounded like a powerful *Bang*.
Myron resisted... He avoided getting thrown back and let out his pressure in retaliation. The collision of both created a louder and more impactful sound,
*BANG!*
Both endured the resulting, opposing push and got back to clashing with weapons, their movements blurring together and their occasional blast of pressure the most vibrant of 'colors' to their repetitive collisions.
Zayda kept her eyes peeled as she was the only one, besides Lord Stygian, who could follow the movements of the two. As Moderator, the Delegate from the Martial Temple remained ready to interfere.
Myrine knew now that Myron had acquired himself a weapon he could summon. How much or how little distance was required, she did not know or care.
When the sword stabbed towards her face, a wickedly fatal strike that Myron lacked the composure to stop himself from delivering, Myrine dodged (just as Zayda was an inch away from interfering) and grabbed the sword blade.
With her hand reinforced with her Spiritual pressure, she pulled it out of Myron's hold and sucked it into her Spatial ring, rendering Myron armless.
And then she stabbed at his chest, towards his beating heart...
*Clang!*
... only to collide with Zayda Vi'thar's protective sword.
"And that's where this ends."