Never Die Villain

Regarded as the most promising student among the Academy’s third years, with even many fourth years careful around her, Anastasiya was perhaps the fastest swordsman currently attending the Academy.

With her naturally slim figure, she had always believed that speed would be the greatest advantage available to her, and so much of her early training had revolved around making herself faster than anyone else.

At least, that had been her understanding before entering the Academy.

It was only after she began fighting people outside the North that Anastasiya realized her physical strength was already a cut above most students her age.

Opponents considerably larger than her struggled to overpower her in a direct clash, and over time, she discovered that against most students, there was hardly any reason for her to rely on speed in the first place when she could simply plant her feet and beat them head-on.

That eventually became the arrogant swordsmanship Anastasiya was known for.

A thin rapier that looked almost laughable beside the heavy swords carried by some of her opponents would meet them directly instead of avoiding them, only for the person on the other end to find his weapon forced backward.

More than one grown man had been pinned under that slender blade, staring in confusion as he wondered how something so thin could possibly feel so terrifyingly heavy in a clash.

That was Anastasiya Belozerskaya.

A woman with enough strength that she rarely needed to move, and enough speed that forcing her to move was arguably an even worse idea.

Throughout her time at the Academy, people had challenged her specifically to see just how fast she could become when pushed to her limit, yet even after three years, no one could confidently claim to have seen her reach her top speed.

———!

Ilya swung, intending to catch the incoming strike with a parry, but Anastasiya’s blade seemed to phase straight through his own.

By the time the steel finally entered his vision again, its point was already racing toward his face, leaving him with barely enough time to widen his eyes before instinct took over.

Whoosh——!

Wind blew between them.

Ilya threw himself backward with the sudden burst, using the recoil to push his body out of the path of Anastasiya’s sword while simultaneously blasting her several steps in the opposite direction.

The tip of her blade still grazed his cheek before he escaped, leaving behind a thin red line that immediately began to bleed.

"...Hm."

Ilya landed awkwardly and touched his cheek with two fingers.

Within the Knight Department, meeting Anastasiya’s blade directly was widely regarded as one of the stupidest decisions an opponent could make.

Leaving even the smallest opening against her was practically an invitation to be struck, because Anastasiya possessed enough speed to bridge almost any gap before her opponent could close it again.

It didn’t matter how narrow the opening was or how impossible the distance appeared to cross, because once Anastasiya saw a path for her blade, Acceleration allowed her to force her way through it.

Her swordsmanship was ruthless and crude, built around ending a fight rather than preserving any sense of honor between swordsmen.

She didn’t care whether an attack looked graceful, whether a victory was considered proper, or whether exploiting the smallest mistake was beneath someone of her standing, because if there was a throat left exposed for even an instant, then her blade would already be there.

Across from him, Anastasiya dug her heel into the ground and stopped herself from being pushed any farther.

Her hair and clothes fluttered from the remaining wind, though the moment it died down, her eyes immediately settled on the blood staining Ilya’s fingertips.

"To think you’ve fallen so low that you’d resort to such cheap tricks."

Ilya lowered his hand and tightened his grip around his sword, but his attention remained fixed on Anastasiya’s blade.

He had seen her move, had known exactly where the attack was coming from, and had even begun his parry before she completed the thrust, yet none of that had mattered when her sword simply crossed the remaining distance faster than his body could respond.

Knowing what Anastasiya was going to do wasn’t enough.

He had to move before she did.

"Haa..."

A faint mist escaped Ilya’s lips as he exhaled. The air around him began to grow colder.

Beneath his feet, however, Ilya could feel every disturbance passing through the frost spreading across the ground, from the shifting of Anastasiya’s boots to the smallest change in how she distributed her weight.

Against Anastasiya, attacking first was dangerous.

Waiting for her to attack was hardly any better, because giving her control over the distance meant allowing her to decide when the exchange began.

Once she actually started moving, most challengers discovered that whatever opening they thought they had seen had already disappeared by the time they committed to it.

For that reason, Ilya did neither.

He remained within striking distance with his sword raised, watching Anastasiya without committing himself to an attack.

If trying to react to her Acceleration after she moved was already too late, then there was little point in attempting to match her speed in the first place.

Anastasiya narrowed her eyes, then moved.

Ilya swung immediately.

Clang——!

Their swords collided before Anastasiya could fully bridge the distance, the impact forcing Ilya’s arm backward as her blade struck his at an awkward angle.

He had moved before she attacked, reacting to the shift in her weight rather than waiting for the sword itself, and although he had guessed correctly, the sheer force behind Anastasiya’s strike still nearly tore the weapon from his hand.

Her eyes widened.

Ilya noticed it immediately.

He twisted his wrist and redirected her blade downward before stepping into the opening, bringing his sword around toward her shoulder while she was still close enough that Acceleration should have been difficult to use.

Anastasiya vanished.

"Shit."

She reappeared at his side.

Ilya threw himself forward before her sword could reach him, feeling the edge carve another shallow line across his back as he escaped. He stumbled several steps before turning around, only to find Anastasiya already closing the distance again.

Clang——!

Ilya caught the next strike.

Clang——!

The second nearly broke through his guard.

Anastasiya gave him no opportunity to recover before the third came from below, forcing him to move his entire body away as steel passed close enough to his throat for him to feel the air displaced by it.

"Haa..."

His breathing was becoming heavier. But Anastasiya’s wasn’t.

’Is she trying to kill me...?’

Anastasiya stared at him over the edge of her blade, then planted her feet firmly against the ground.

Ilya immediately adjusted his guard, but she didn’t accelerate. His sword moved in anticipation of an attack that never came.

Anastasiya smiled.

"Oh."

Her blade crashed into his exposed guard.

Ilya was thrown backward, barely managing to keep hold of his sword. Before he could properly recover, Anastasiya was already close enough that there was no longer any reason for her to rely on speed.

"...Ah."

She kicked him squarely in the chest.

Thwack——!

The impact sent Ilya stumbling backward, and Anastasiya followed before he could properly regain his balance, battering his sword aside with one heavy swing before driving her shoulder into him.

Ilya managed to stay on his feet, but whatever momentum he had established by reading her movements had already been thoroughly broken.

Ilya’s eyes dropped toward her boot, but he stopped himself before committing to anything.

She had already shown him that the movement meant nothing if she wanted it to mean nothing, and from this point onward, every twitch of her foot could just as easily be bait as the beginning of Acceleration.

"Hoo..."

Ilya exhaled and raised his sword again.

Trying to become faster than Anastasiya was impossible, and now that she knew he had been reading the beginning of her movements, predicting her had become little more than gambling.

The longer he continued fighting on her terms, the more opportunities she would have to turn whatever solution he found against him.

So Ilya stopped watching her feet.

Anastasiya noticed immediately.

"...It’s a goddamn boss fight."

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