Never Die Villain

He had been so focused on seeing Anastasiya move that he had forgotten there were other ways to perceive movement.

The blizzard already surrounded them, brushing against steel, clothing, skin, and everything else caught within its reach, and no matter how absurd Anastasiya’s speed became, she could not approach him without disturbing it.

Ilya didn’t need to become fast enough to follow her movements with his eyes when the cold surrounding him could feel every space she passed through, allowing him to react to her presence rather than her speed.

———!

Anastasiya disappeared once again as Acceleration carried her across the distance before Ilya’s eyes could even begin to follow.

Yet the instant her presence was registered within the blizzard surrounding him, Ilya felt the disturbance ripple through the cold and swung toward it.

Clang——!

For the first time, he caught her cleanly.

Anastasiya’s eyes widened as their blades collided, her momentum crashing against Ilya’s sword.

Ilya’s arms shook from the impact, but his feet remained planted, and a grin slowly crept across his face as he realized that he had finally found something that worked.

’Cold Sense...’

It seemed to be a surprisingly effective counter to Anastasiya.

———!

However, what use were clever tricks in the face of overwhelming skill?

Anastasiya’s sword recoiled from the clash, yet before Ilya could capitalize on catching her, she twisted her wrist and immediately attacked from another angle.

Cold Sense registered the movement perfectly, allowing Ilya to turn his sword toward the incoming blade, but knowing where an attack was coming from did not suddenly give his body the ability to answer it.

Clang——!

Steel crashed against steel, and Ilya’s guard faltered.

Anastasiya did not give him the opportunity to recover.

The moment she felt his sword give, she stepped forward and continued the exchange, alternating between short, brutally efficient cuts and sudden thrusts that forced Ilya to keep retreating without ever finding enough room to launch an attack of his own.

Clang—clang—clang——!

Ilya caught one, redirected another, and narrowly twisted away from the third, only for Anastasiya to change the direction of her sword halfway through and carve another line across his shoulder.

He gritted his teeth and answered with a diagonal swing toward her ribs, but Anastasiya leaned away just enough for the blade to pass before returning a thrust toward his chest.

The blizzard warned him, prompting Ilya to turn, but the point still tore through his clothes and grazed his side.

"Kh...!"

Ilya forced himself upright.

Anastasiya disappeared.

This time, Cold Sense caught her immediately. Ilya pivoted before she reappeared within his vision and brought his sword around with both hands, meeting her at the end of Acceleration rather than allowing her to dictate the exchange.

Clang——!

The collision rang throughout the hall.

Several members of the audience recoiled at the sound, while Ilya’s boots scraped backward across the floor.

His arms screamed from the impact, but he refused to release his sword, drawing upon the surrounding blizzard and forcing as much weight as he could into the clash.

For a second, neither blade moved, and Anastasiya stared at him from across their locked swords.

"How foolish."

Anastasiya’s aura surged. The pressure against Ilya’s sword suddenly multiplied.

His elbows shifted before he could stop them, and Anastasiya drove his blade downward with enough force to break the clash completely.

Ilya tried to retreat, but she was already inside his reach, driving a knee into his stomach before striking the side of his sword and sending him staggering away.

"Ghk...!"

He barely managed to remain standing.

Anastasiya followed through.

Ilya felt her through Cold Sense before he saw her, but this time there was no obvious attack to answer. She entered his range, stopped just short of committing, then changed direction the instant Ilya swung toward where he expected her to be.

His sword cut through empty air.

"....!"

Anastasiya appeared behind him.

Slash——!

Blood splattered across the floor. The cut across his back wasn’t deep enough to end the duel, but the pain nearly brought him to one knee.

Ilya caught himself with his sword, forced his legs up again, and turned just in time to find Anastasiya already approaching.

Ilya raised his sword again.

Blood ran from several cuts across his body, his breathing becoming increasingly difficult to control as the sword in his hands seemed to grow heavier with every exchange.

Anastasiya, meanwhile, had finally begun breathing harder than before, but there was still not a single cut on her body.

The difference was humiliating.

"...."

...But it was also exhilarating.

Ilya smiled.

"What are you smiling about?"

"Nothing."

"That’s disgusting."

Anastasiya’s expression darkened.

Then both of them moved.

Clang——!

Ilya abandoned defense.

His first swing was knocked aside, so he allowed the momentum to carry him around and attacked again from the opposite direction.

Anastasiya caught it cleanly, but Ilya was already stepping closer, shortening the distance until neither of them had enough room for comfortable swings.

Their swords collided again and again.

Ilya attacked from awkward angles, used his shoulder whenever Anastasiya came too close, kicked at her footing when their blades became locked, and manipulated the blizzard whenever his failing strength needed the slightest assistance.

Anastasiya met his desperation with efficient counters as the duel spiraled into something far from a polite exhibition between siblings.

The audience had gone quiet.

Whatever amusement had surrounded the duel at the beginning was gone.

Even the elders who had pushed for this match were no longer smiling.

Clang——!

Anastasiya knocked Ilya’s sword upward. He refused to release it and stepped forward instead.

She thrust.

Ilya moved his torso, letting the blade pass along his side as he brought his own sword down toward her shoulder.

For the first time, Anastasiya was forced to retreat.

At that moment, her aura burst.

The pressure alone sent loose strands of her hair whipping backward, and for the first time since the duel began, Ilya felt Cold Sense struggle to distinguish the countless disturbances spreading through the air around her.

Anastasiya lowered her sword.

"To struggle for this long... You really intend to make a scene. Very well. I’ll show you exactly how great the difference between us is."

"...."

"Sword Intent: Thousandfold Array."

Anastasiya disappeared.

Ilya felt movement everywhere.

His instincts screamed at him to turn left. Cold Sense caught something approaching from the right, but his eyes registered nothing at all. He chose the disturbance nearest to him and swung toward it.

"...."

But there was nothing.

Anastasiya was already somewhere else.

Clang——!

His sword nearly flew from his hands.

Ilya tightened his grip and tried to turn, only for another impact to strike before he completed the movement.

Clang——!

Then another.

Clang——!

The third destroyed his stance completely.

Ilya stumbled backward, his sword hanging uselessly at his side as Anastasiya finally appeared directly in front of him.

The aura gathering around her blade was unlike anything she had shown throughout the duel, and only then did Ilya understand just how much his sister had been holding back against him.

Even so, his body refused to surrender so easily. The blizzard gathered around him, and for a moment, countless ways of escaping the situation passed through his mind.

He could throw himself aside with the wind, freeze the ground below Anastasiya before she could advance, or simply draw deeper upon Niflheim and overwhelm whatever difference remained between them with magic.

For one irrational moment, Ilya almost did exactly that.

"...."

He had already drawn upon the blizzard far more than he intended, and pushing it a little further would hardly make much difference now.

Yet doing so in front of every elder gathered in the hall would expose far more than winning this duel could ever be worth, and that brief hesitation was all Anastasiya needed.

She accelerated.

Ilya barely managed to raise his sword before she crossed the distance, but by then, the exchange had already been decided. Anastasiya’s blade slipped past his unfinished guard and continued toward his throat without losing even the slightest bit of momentum.

’She’s not stopping...’

Ilya’s eyes widened.

Her sword continued along its path with enough force to sever straight through his throat, and only then did Ilya realize that his sister fully intended to finish the strike.

She was trying to take his head off.

"That’s enough!"

The senior knight moved.

Clang——!

Another blade crashed into Anastasiya’s from the side, barely inches away from Ilya’s throat, knocking its trajectory upward before the edge could reach him.

The force carried Anastasiya several steps past her brother, while Ilya remained frozen where he was, a thin line of blood appearing across his neck where the very edge had managed to graze him.

Silence descended across the training grounds.

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