chapter 10
Battle of Draventhia
Princess (sharp, controlled fury): I said… enough.
The stone beneath her knees cracked under the force of her struggle.
She twisted violently, trying to break free—but the Prince of Draventhia pressed down harder, kicking and pinning her in place. Her sword lay just out of reach.
---
John's eyes widened.
His chest tightened.
John (shouting): Ahh!! Princess!!
He surged forward through the battlefield.
Steel flashed in his hands as he cut down soldiers blocking his path. Every strike was sharp, precise—driven by fear, urgency, and resolve.
John (thinking, grim): I won't let her fall… not now.
---
The battlefield roared around him.
Clashing steel. Screams. Crumbling stone.
Dust rose in thick clouds, swallowing light and sound.
---
Princess's eyes burned with defiance.
Even pinned, she refused to break. Every muscle in her body coiled like a spring under unbearable pressure.
The Prince tried to overpower her—but her focus never wavered.
A quiet, deadly fury radiated from her.
---
John cut through the last enemy between them.
Only a few meters remained.
John (thinking): Hold on… I'm coming!
---
Princess gritted her teeth.
Blood trickled from the corner of her mouth. Her vision blurred—but her resolve did not weaken.
The Prince lunged again, blade aimed at her chest.
She twisted at the last moment, narrowly avoiding it—and retaliated with a sharp upward slash.
The Prince staggered back.
Prince (grinning, taunting): You're stubborn… but it won't save you!
---
Princess growled.
Her movements sharpened—faster, more aggressive.
She spun, her blade carving a deadly arc that shattered his guard and sent sparks flying.
Princess (through clenched teeth): Don't… test me!
---
The Prince retaliated wildly, anger clouding his precision.
She ducked, rolled, and struck back with a brutal counter that grazed his shoulder. He stumbled—but recovered quickly.
Their blades clashed again and again, steel screaming in the air.
Princess's breathing grew heavier—but her eyes only burned brighter.
Even wounded. Even outnumbered. She did not yield.
She feinted left—then struck right with calculated precision, forcing him on the defensive.
---
John reached them at last, every step fueled by desperation.
John (thinking): She's not just fighting… she's burning herself out. I have to reach her!
---
Suddenly—
A disturbing shift in the battlefield.
From the bodies of fallen soldiers, grotesque creatures began to rise.
Twisted. Wrong. Hollow-eyed.
The air thickened with decay and corrupted magic.
John's expression darkened.
John (shouting, furious): Oh… so soldiers weren't enough—and now this?!
Across the field, Guinevere's eyes lit up.
Blood streaked her armor and face—but her smile was pure exhilaration.
Guinevere (low, thrilled): Hah… finally… chaos worth enjoying.
She moved instantly.
A blur of steel.
Her blade carved through monsters and men alike—precise, merciless, unstoppable. Limbs fell. Screams echoed.
She didn't hesitate. She didn't slow.
She thrived.
---
Soldiers began to retreat.
Soldier 1 (panicked): Monsters! I can't—
Soldier 2 (trembling): I have a family… I can't die here!
---
John's voice cut through the chaos.
John (shouting, voice cracking): Do you think your families will be safe if you run?!
If we retreat, these monsters will follow them home!
This isn't just our fight!
Every strike here protects someone we love!
---
He charged forward, cutting down monsters with raw force and precise technique.
Each movement was decisive. Unrelenting.
--
John (shouting louder): Look at Princess Flora!
She's risking everything for you!
Every drop of her blood… every swing of her sword… is for your future!
And you would run?!
--
Silence—then hesitation.
Shame began to spread.
One by one, the soldiers turned back.
Weapons raised again.
Hope rekindled.
---
Amidst the chaos, one soldier faltered.
His blade trembled.
A memory surfaced—his family, once enslaved, suffering while he could do nothing.
---
Princess Flora had seen him before.
Long ago. In another land.
Lost. Broken.
She had stepped in then.
Princess (softly): Isn't this your little girl?
Soldier (shaking): Yes…
She knelt slightly, voice gentle.
Princess: Don't you want her to grow up free? To live without fear?
Soldier (voice breaking): Yes… I do…
A faint smile touched her lips.
Princess: Then she already is free… and so are you.
The soldier broke.
Tears fell.
Soldier (choked): Why… me?
Princess placed a hand on his shoulder.
Princess: Because I saw your heart.
Even as a slave, you called her free.
You promised her a future… even if it cost you everything.
Something shifted in him.
A spark of belief.
He stood.
Raised his sword.
Soldier (firm, shaken but resolved): Then… I will fight.
He surged back into battle.
Guinevere noticed John rallying the soldiers.
A faint, approving smirk formed.
Guinevere (thinking): Huh… he's not just strong. He's fire.
Flora chose well.
She dove back into the chaos, smiling wickedly.
Every strike became more violent, more precise—turning fear into power, power into domination.
The battlefield became pure chaos:
Steel clashed. Monsters roared. Soldiers shouted.
Yet at its center, three forces held the line.
Princess Flora — wounded, unbroken, a beacon of resolve.
John — a storm of protective fury.
Guinevere — a predator dancing through destruction.
Each strike had purpose.
Each breath carried weight.
They weren't just fighting monsters.
They were fighting for survival.
For future.
For hope.
Princess's gaze flickered toward John for a fraction of a second.
Something soft broke through her hardened expression.
Then—
it vanished.
Princess (thinking): I can't… I can't stop now…
She surged forward again.
Relentless.
Unyielding.
Steel clashed violently as she faced the Prince of Draventhia once more.
Prince (gritting teeth): You fight like no one I've ever seen!
Princess struck—clean, precise, overwhelming.
He staggered.
She pressed harder.
Faster.
Stronger.
Every movement pushed him back.
Prince (frustrated): You fight with pure fury!
For a moment, it seemed she would win.
But then—
a feint.
A mistake.
A trap.
The Prince struck.
A precise blow pierced her side, followed by a brutal kick.
She flew back and hit the ground hard.
Silence.
Princess gasped, clutching her wound.
Blood spread across her side.
Her sword slipped from her hand.
The Prince stood over her.
Prince (panting, cold): So fierce… yet even the strongest fall.
Her vision blurred.
Her strength faded.
And then—
darkness took her.
Guinevere's eyes widened.
John froze.
Then—
rage ignited.
With a roar, John kicked a soldier aside and sprinted forward.
…CHAPTER 10 ENDS…