The moment M stepped into the center, the trio blitzed her.
Lucie circled behind her, while Aloïs and Raphael swung down their weapons simultaneously.
It was a perfectly executed pincer.
And for anyone else, it would've been an immediate end.
But M didn't move like anyone else.
She didn't just block or dodge.
She flowed.
With blinding speed, she slipped between Raphael and Aloïs.
The two boys turned on their heels to catch her, but by the time they changed direction…
M had already circled Raphael—jamming her sword into Lucie's side and kicking her to the ground.
"Out!"
The referee shouted.
In the span of three seconds, Lucie had been defeated.
Alexander gawked, his knees weak and shaken.
"I-impossible…"
Raphael bit his lip so hard it bled, "damn it!"
He spun his scythe into another arc, before swinging it down.
Aloïs stepped back, watching M with narrowed eyes.
M blocked Raphael's attack with the swing of her sword.
The weapons clashed and locked.
Aloïs charged the now pinned M, his hammer breaking through the air.
M, pushed her sword against Raphael, then released it before dashing backwards.
The lack of resistance sent Raphael stumbling forward.
Just for a second.
Raphael locked his foot to catch himself.
But that was a fatal mistake.
Aloïs was moving too fast to be stopped and crashed into Raphael Hammer first.
Raphael cried out in shock as the massive hammer pressed into his abdomen.
He was sent flying backwards, tumbling across the turf.
The crowd was stunned silent, Aloïs put enough power into that attack to kill the average player.
"Out!" The referee called, waving his hands.
Two top players on the François team are out in less than a minute.
Alexander felt his stomach twist, and his breathing was heavy.
He hadn't seen Raphael defeated since… ever.
He didn't even know it was possible.
Aloïs roared, swinging his hammer again.
"I'm taking you down, if it's the last thing I do!"
M barely tilted her head as the weapon whizzed past her.
She then grabbed the hammer shaft with one hand, pressing against it as a stand.
She kicked her right leg back, and for a moment time slowed.
Her foot rocketed forward, the tip connecting with Aloïs' jaw.
His head snapped back with a sickening crack.
His eyes rolled to the back of his head, as he collapsed.
M touched the ground gracefully as she lifted the hammer and pointed it towards Alexander.
"Out!"
Alexander's eyes drooped as he took a step back, his mind reeling.
What the hell is happening?!
M's team rushed forward to secure the center flags.
A voice boomed through the speakers—the announcer.
"With an opening like that, you have to wonder if François Academy's 'Little general' can turn the tide. Or will the masked empress secure the first point?!"
Alexander grabbed his face, that moniker felt more like a joke now.
How could he face her, he'd never seen someone so ruthless.
So overwhelming.
Suddenly he was ripped from his thoughts by a tap from Karl.
"What are we doing?"
He asked, his voice too calm for the situation.
Alexander blinked, looking around to see everyone staring at him for an answer.
He was used to the pressure, but this felt different.
Usually, he'd have to mop up a beaten enemy, but in this situation, he was the one being mopped up.
It didn't help that his mind was foggy and his body sluggish.
After a moment, he looked across the field to the approaching M.
Her team had secured the fourth flag, and she was now marching straight for him.
She's playing with us…
Something in Alexander just snapped.
Like a man in his last moments, he gave up on winning.
He just wanted her beaten.
He pointed a finger at M, gritting his teeth and narrowing his eyes.
"Charge her! Everyone! Don't let her get to the final flag!"
His speech was slurred…
But the match continued.
His teammates fanned out as they charged forward, a final surge against an insurmountable force.
M met the charge head-on.
Jules was the first to reach her, swinging his long sword in a sweeping arc.
M ducked under the blade with a ghostly grace.
When Jules reached the extent of his swing, she twisted behind him and landed a powerful chop to the back of his neck.
His body went limp as he crumpled to the ground.
"Out!"
Karl leapt towards her—striking furiously with his twin daggers.
M countered each strike, their weapons clashing.
She then locked his blades against her hammer, before kneeing him.
Karl keeled over with a gag.
And M forced him to the ground by the back of his neck.
"Out!"
Alexander watched in horror as his teammates were eliminated one by one.
There wasn't a single cheer as the crowd watched this one-sided massacre.
The announcer's voice was a shaken whisper, "One more flag and Stuttgart wins the round."
M, now just a few feet away, tossed her hammer aside.
Alexander swallowed, stepping back.
"Alexander," M said softly, stepping closer.
"How long has it been?"
Alexander coughed, "What are you talking about?"
His vision blurred.
M frowned beneath her mask.
"You've been drugged…"
She said, reaching a hand behind his back, catching him.
Alexander tried to push her away.
The faintly familiar scent of flowers and steel overwhelmed his senses.
M's hold was firm yet gentle, keeping him upright.
"Who are you?"
Alexander managed to ask, leaning against her.
M sighed, pulling him into her embrace.
"Don't you remember?" She whispered, "It's me… Marcia."
The name echoed in his mind like a distant melody, a feeling of warmth spreading through his chest.
But as fast as the feeling came, it faded just as fast.
"Marcia…" he repeated, a tear forming in his eye, "you can't be her… she's… dead."
He passed out on her shoulder—slumped.
Marcia dug her fingers into Alexander's uniform, glaring toward the stands.
"They wish I were dead."
Her words carried a quiet rage as she spotted Elizabeth in the Royal booth, next to the Fallen Royals and their daughter.
Elizabeth leaned forward, sporting a concerned expression.
Hinata stood behind her, calm as a summer breeze.
She was looking right at her, as if saying, 'checkmate.'
Marcia's jaw tightened.
She wanted nothing more than to sweep Alexander off his feet and take him home.
But she knew it wasn't possible, Hinata made sure of that.
By drugging Alexander any attempt at taking him would be akin to kidnapping.
They could spin countless stories, making Marcia out to be a monster.
And even if Alexander came out to defend her, they could simply say she was threatening him to do that.
And so, M carefully lowered Alexander onto the turf, brushing a few strands of hair from his face.
"They've only delayed the inevitable," she whispered to him, pressing her forehead against his.
"You can only water a budding lie for so long, before the truth begins to bloom."
She then rose to her feet and grabbed the final flag.
The referee dropped the round flag.
"Point, Stuttgart academy!"
His voice amplified through the quiet stadium.
M tossed the flag aside, turning to leave.
All around, medical personnel rushed onto the field, their white uniforms crisp and clean.
Players were loaded onto stretchers.
Some muttering in pain, others in frustration.
Raphael refused to be treated, instead, he watched his teammates be carted off.
He thought back to what Hinata said, and couldn't help but sigh.
There wasn't bloodshed, just mass humiliation.
"Damn it," he whispered in defeat, "she'd been holding back, for years… "
He shouted, punching the ground.
"Damn it!"