Chapter 47 — A New Challenger Appears

The arena had barely recovered from the shock of Vorath’s defeat when a sudden hush fell over the crowd. The massive gates at the far end creaked open, revealing a figure unlike any fighter the Royal Grand Tournament had yet seen.

He was slender and swift, moving with a grace that contrasted sharply with Vorath’s brute force. His dark cloak billowed as he stepped forward, revealing a pair of twin daggers strapped to his hips and a calm, calculating expression. Every step seemed measured, every movement precise.

“Who is this?” whispered a knight in the stands. “He doesn’t look like a warrior… but that calm… it’s unnerving.”

Kaelen’s golden eyes narrowed. This is Lysander “Phantom Fang.” One of the top-ranked colosseum fighters known for deception, speed, and cunning. He does not overpower—he outsmarts. This duel will test Aric in ways he has not yet faced.

Aric’s grip on his sword tightened instinctively. His eyes studied the new challenger, scanning for any hint of weakness, rhythm, or pattern. Unlike Vorath, who relied on overwhelming strength, this opponent was likely to exploit speed, misdirection, and deception. I must observe carefully… anticipate cleverly… adapt perfectly.

The twin daggers gleamed under the sunlight as Lysander bowed slightly, a subtle smirk playing across his face. “I’ve heard whispers of the prince trained by the Mirrorblade,” he said, voice smooth and almost teasing. “I’m curious… how well does he truly understand combat?”

Aric raised his sword in response, steady and calm. “I will show you the answer in battle,” he replied firmly.

The duel began with a blur. Lysander moved faster than the eye could follow, a shadow darting around the arena, striking from unexpected angles. Each dagger swipe was precise, calculated, designed to break rhythm and create openings.

Aric instinctively adapted, moving with the flow, his blade meeting the twin daggers in a rapid exchange of sparks and steel. He felt the rhythm of Lysander’s attacks, noting micro-pauses, slight tells, and subtle shifts in weight—every movement a message waiting to be read.

Kaelen watched silently, his golden eyes calculating. Lysander will test not just strength, but perception, strategy, and anticipation. Aric must apply every lesson, every observation, and every adaptation he has learned to survive this duel.

The crowd was on edge, gasping and cheering as the battle unfolded. Lysander’s speed and deception made him appear untouchable, but Aric’s calm, predictive movements allowed him to counter, deflect, and even create opportunities for precise strikes.

“You’re… not ordinary,” Lysander admitted mid-duel, a flicker of respect in his eyes. “Most would have fallen already. But can you adapt faster than I can deceive?”

Aric’s mind raced, analyzing patterns, predicting attacks, and maintaining control over the flow of battle. Every feint, every lunge, every strike was countered with rhythm and precision.

The duel had only just begun, but the Royal Grand Tournament had already entered a new level of intensity. The crowd watched, captivated, as a new chapter in Aric’s growth unfolded—a duel of wit, speed, and strategy that would further test the prince trained by the Mirrorblade.