✨ Author's Note ✨Thank you for the 19k views! Enjoy the reading and savor every moment
The katana slid across the floor, spinning twice before stopping between the stones.
Cassian took a step forward to reach it, but Éon moved first, a dry, lateral impulse.
With the sole of his boot, he dragged the blade away, the metallic sound echoing in the empty courtyard.
Cassian raised his gaze, body already inclined, low stance. Éon remained upright, torso slightly leaning forward, arms loose, ready.
For an instant, neither of them breathed.
Cassian attacked first. He advanced with his right foot, twisting his torso and throwing a quick straight punch toward Éon's face.
Éon dodged with a minimal movement of his head and counterattacked with a short sequence — left elbow aiming at the chin, followed by a front kick.
Cassian blocked the elbow with his forearm, stepped back half a step, and grabbed the leg of the kick, trying to unbalance Éon.
Éon spun his body, using the momentum of the capture to turn on his own axis and hit Cassian with the heel of his free leg.
The impact struck the opponent's shoulder, forcing him to release the leg and retreat.
Cassian steadied his foot, took a deep breath, and advanced again.
He threw two quick punches — a fake high strike and a real one, aiming at the abdomen.
Éon lowered his guard at the exact moment, blocking with his forearm and twisting his hips.
He took advantage of Cassian's imbalance and delivered a short elbow strike to the flank.
Cassian absorbed the hit and responded immediately: he grabbed Éon's wrist, pulling him forward, and launched his right knee toward the chest.
Éon crossed his arms and intercepted the blow, the impact reverberating up to his shoulders.
He pushed Cassian back, created space, and slid one step to the left.
The air grew heavy. Both breathed with control, alert to the slightest movement.
Cassian twisted his torso, feigning an advance from the right side — but shifted his body weight and launched a spinning kick from the left.
Éon blocked with his forearm, felt the impact vibrate through the bone, and responded immediately with a direct punch to the exposed abdomen.
Cassian stepped back half a step, twisting his torso just enough for the blow to graze without hitting fully.
He took advantage of the movement and spun his body, launching a sequence of three short attacks — elbow, punch, knee.
Éon blocked the first two and dodged the third with a sidestep, making Cassian lose his center of gravity.
He seized the instant and advanced with his shoulder, pushing the opponent against a column.
Cassian hit his back, but spun his body and shoved him back with his forearm.
Both stepped back two paces, returning to guard.
The sound of short, controlled breaths was the only noise.
Cassian smiled faintly, blood running down the corner of his mouth.
"Starting to get interesting."
Éon didn't answer. He adjusted his posture, gaze fixed, cold.
Cassian advanced again. This time without hesitation.
He entered Éon's reach with his left foot forward and twisted his body, launching a straight punch.
Éon blocked it, but the impact made him step back half a step — the weight behind the blow was greater than expected.
Cassian gave no space. He followed through, fitting his shoulder into Éon's chest and pushing him backward.
The prince lost balance, tried to twist his torso to escape, but Cassian took advantage of the moment and threw a short right hook.
The fist hit the jaw.
The dry sound of the impact echoed between the columns.
Éon staggered to the side, his vision trembling for an instant.
He quickly regained focus, lowering his center of gravity, trying to keep distance.
Cassian didn't let him breathe.
He advanced again — low kick aiming at the supporting leg.
Éon lifted his leg, blocked with his shin, but Cassian was already twisting his torso, using the momentum to throw another blow, this time with his elbow.
The impact grazed the shoulder, enough to displace Éon's balance.
Cassian pressed forward, body close, using the height difference to dominate the space.
He grabbed Éon by the forearm and twisted, forcing the prince toward the ground.
Éon locked the movement with his leg, twisted his hips, and pushed Cassian away with his knee, distancing him for an instant.
The two returned to guard, but now the rhythm was different.
Cassian breathed steady, body relaxed, strikes precise.
Éon kept his gaze fixed, but his chest rose and fell faster.
Cassian attacked with a direct sequence — two high strikes and one low, alternating between punches and kicks.
Éon blocked the first, dodged the second, but the kick hit the abdomen.
The air left his lungs in a hoarse sound.
Cassian advanced, twisted his body, and launched a cross punch.
Éon tried to lower his head, but the blow grazed his temple, enough to make him stagger.
Cassian grabbed him by the collar and pulled him back, driving his knee into the stomach.
Éon tried to intercept, but the strength was superior — the impact made him bend over.
Cassian pushed his shoulder down and hurled him against one of the columns.
Éon hit his back, the hollow sound mixing with his forced breathing.
Cassian didn't lose rhythm.
He approached, raised his fist, and attempted a downward blow.
Éon spun his body at the last instant, escaping the impact, and responded with a short elbow strike to the opponent's flank.
Cassian stepped back half a step, but his gaze remained calm — almost predatory.
"Good try," he murmured, straightening his body. "But you're still too light."
Éon raised his gaze, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth.
He took a deep breath, straightened his posture, and advanced again.
Cassian smiled.
"That's it, prince… show how much you can take."
He opened his guard, inviting the attack.
Éon advanced with speed, straight punch, spinning kick — Cassian blocked both, absorbing the impact with his forearm and hip.
In the next movement, he twisted his body and hit a cross punch to Éon's chest, followed by an elbow strike to the face.
The impact was brutal. Éon fell to his knees.
Cassian watched him from above, chest rising slowly, the moon's shadow marking his face.
"Still want to continue?" he asked, without arrogance, merely stating.
Éon lifted his gaze, panting, but the light in his eyes remained firm.
"I haven't even started yet."
Cassian stepped back, gaze fixed on the kneeling prince.
Éon rested one hand on the ground, trying to regain his breath, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth.
Cassian twisted his body, preparing the final blow — left foot anchored, right one rising in a precise arc, aiming at Éon's face.
The kick would come clean, direct, heavy enough to knock him out.
But the impact never came.
At the instant the foot cut through the air, something stopped it.
It wasn't a hand — it was the energy around them condensing, as if the air had solidified.
Cassian frowned; his body frozen mid-motion, leg a few centimeters from Éon's face.
The temperature dropped. The candles inside the temple flickered and went out. Violet light slid through the cracks of the door.
Ereon was there. Standing at the entrance, purple eyes lit, coat open. The shadows bent as if space itself recognized him.
"That's enough." The voice sounded low. The air trembled.
The pressure broke the attack; Cassian was pushed back several steps without anyone touching him. His foot hit the marble.
He landed firmly, face closed, gaze fixed on Ereon with contained disdain and anger.
Ereon advanced two steps, unhurried, without display. The energy on his fingers vibrated, thin — a warning.
"Don't you think you're going too far for someone who should be observing?" Ereon spoke, voice short, measured. "There are limits."
Cassian spat, a dry sound. He kept perfect posture, as if the blood on the corners of his mouth didn't bother him.
"I've been observing you this month," said Cassian, calm, cutting voice. "It's visible. It's reckless. You know what happens when the greater players discover mistakes like that."
Ereon averted his gaze for a second, purple eyes reflecting the opponent's golden ones. He didn't need to shout. He spoke like someone delivering a sentence:
"As far as I know, we're princes. You... are a half-dragon with good reach and a bad habit of meddling." Short pause. "Don't touch what's mine. Don't test the patience that's mine to hold."
Ereon's aura grew for an instant; black filaments rippled at his fingers. The threat wasn't discussion — it was promise.
"You may be half-dragon," he continued, colder, "but I am heir. Next time you cross my path while stepping on what's mine, I'll make sure to show you what power means."
Cassian smiled, slow, humorless. It was the smile of someone who accepts the warning and measures the consequences.
"Interesting." The voice was low, almost a compliment. "Now I see why you provoke fear."
He took a side step, keeping distance. "I won't prolong this conversation. There's still usefulness in keeping things... functional."
Cassian stepped back, shoulders still tense, eyes shining with calculation. There was no submission in the exit — only acknowledgment and the implicit promise that it wouldn't end there.
Éon watched the two, chest rising and falling; Ereon's purple eyes dimmed to a residual glow as he looked at his brother.
"Take care of the wounds," Ereon said, turning his back, curt. "We're not done here yet."
Cassian turned, controlled steps, and left the courtyard. Silence grew dense behind him — and the feeling that too many lines had been crossed lingered in the air.
Ereon kept his gaze fixed on Cassian moving away for an instant before speaking again, voice lower but firm:
"You did well not to reveal your abilities," he said without turning. "We don't know who might be watching... and until we have a solid base in this territory, we must show as little as possible."
He then took a deep breath, tone returning to usual control. "Remember, Éon... too much strength draws eyes we're not ready to face yet."