The confrontation between them continued
The clash of steel echoed through the clearing again.
And again.
Each strike sharper than the last.
Valen's movements had changed.
Gone was the initial caution.
Now—
He was fully engaged.
His blade moved with precision, cutting through the air in arcs that would have cleaved through anything lesser. Each swing carried weight, control, and experience forged through countless battles.
And yet—
He wasn't gaining ground.
The masked man stood before him, unmoved.
Untouched.
His movements were minimal. Efficient. Every motion stripped down to its purest form—no wasted energy, no unnecessary force.
A step to the side.
A slight tilt of the blade.
A shift of weight.
And Valen's attacks were neutralized.
Not blocked.
Not countered.
Simply… denied.
Valen's eyes narrowed.
"You're not even trying."
No response.
The masked man moved again.
A flicker—
And he was gone.
Valen reacted instantly.
His sword spun in his hand, cutting behind him—
CLANG!
The strike met steel.
The impact rang out, but this time—
The masked man didn't retreat.
Instead, his blade pressed forward.
Slowly.
Deliberately.
Valen's arm tensed as he resisted the pressure.
"…So you can push," Valen muttered.
For a brief moment—
They stood locked.
Power against power.
Then—
The masked man vanished again.
Valen didn't chase.
He stepped back.
Adjusted his stance.
His breathing slowed.
Controlled.
Measured.
He was adapting.
I watched from the side, leaning casually against the tree.
The night air was still.
Too still.
Even the leaves had stopped moving.
As if the forest itself was holding its breath.
The Empress stood nearby, her gaze fixed on the battlefield.
She hadn't moved.
Hadn't interfered.
She trusted Valen.
Or perhaps—
She understood that interfering here would only complicate things.
Valen moved first this time.
His body surged forward, speed exploding beneath his feet.
The ground cracked under the force.
His blade cut forward in a straight, decisive strike—
But it passed through empty air.
The masked man was already behind him.
A silent step.
A precise angle.
A blade aimed for the neck—
CLANG!
Valen twisted just in time, his sword intercepting the strike.
Sparks flew.
The force pushed him sideways, his boots carving shallow lines into the ground.
But he didn't falter.
Instead—
He smiled.
"Better."
The masked man didn't respond.
But his next movement was faster.
A blur.
Then another.
And another.
Multiple angles.
Multiple strikes.
Valen's sword moved like a storm, intercepting each attack with flawless timing.
Steel rang in rapid succession.
CLANG—CLANG—CLANG—CLANG—
The sound overlapped, merging into a single continuous echo.
Valen stepped forward.
Pushed.
His blade cut upward, forcing the masked man back for the first time.
A small opening.
He took it.
A second strike followed immediately—
Faster.
Sharper.
Deadlier.
But—
The masked man tilted his body slightly.
The blade missed by inches.
Then—
He stepped in.
Too close.
Valen's eyes widened for a fraction of a second.
A mistake.
The masked man's hand moved.
A short blade appeared from beneath his cloak—
A thrust aimed directly at Valen's ribs.
Valen reacted instantly.
His body twisted.
The blade grazed his armor—
But didn't pierce.
He countered immediately, his sword swinging down with brutal force.
The masked man released pressure and retreated—
Just in time.
The ground where he stood cracked under the impact.
Silence followed.
Brief.
Heavy.
Valen exhaled slowly.
"…You're not just fast," he said.
"You're precise."
No response.
The masked man stood there, unmoving.
Waiting.
Watching.
Judging.
Valen tightened his grip.
Then—
He changed.
His stance shifted subtly.
Lower.
Sharper.
More aggressive.
If before he had been reacting—
Now—
He was hunting.
His body moved again, faster than before.
Each step calculated.
Each strike aimed.
He wasn't testing anymore.
He was pushing.
Forcing.
Demanding an answer.
The masked man didn't retreat.
Instead—
He met him head-on.
The clash intensified.
This time—
It wasn't defense.
It wasn't evasion.
It was direct confrontation.
Their blades collided with force that shook the air itself.
CLANG!
The impact sent a ripple outward, disturbing the stillness of the forest.
Finally they were getting serious. Their clashes shook the air. The Empress activated her Aura because just standing hundreds of meters away wasn't enough to be safe. Devourer's Gift was now healing my internal bleeding as their clashes were breaking my veins. Though outward I was same.
The Empress's gaze sharpened.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
Valen pushed forward again, his strength evident now.
Each strike carried weight.
Purpose.
Intent to kill.
And for the first time—
The masked man stepped back.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Valen pressed the advantage.
His blade moved faster.
Stronger.
Relentless.
But—
Something felt off.
I narrowed my eyes slightly.
The masked man wasn't retreating because he was overwhelmed.
Sixth Sense immediately told me of change in his intentions.
He was—
Adjusting.
Waiting.
The moment came suddenly.
Valen stepped forward for another strike—
And the masked man disappeared.
Not behind him.
Not above.
Not beside.
Gone.
Valen froze for a fraction of a second.
Then—
He spun.
Too late.
The masked man reappeared to the side.
Closer to the Empress.
His blade moved—
A direct strike toward her.
Valen reacted instantly.
"Don't you dare—!"
He launched himself forward, intercepting the attack—
CLANG!
The force of the clash was heavier this time.
Valen's body shook as he blocked it.
His expression hardened.
"You're aiming for her."
The masked man didn't deny it.
Didn't confirm it.
He simply moved again.
Faster.
More direct.
Each strike now aimed not at Valen—
But past him.
Toward the Empress.
A device now was activated on the Empress protecting her.
Valen's role changed instantly.
He wasn't just fighting now.
He was protecting.
Blocking.
Intercepting.
His movements grew sharper.
More urgent.
More focused.
The rhythm of the fight shifted.
Valen was reacting again.
Forced into defense.
Forced to prioritize.
The masked man pressed forward.
Relentless.
Precise.
Silent.
And through it all—
I remained where I was.
Watching.
Observing.
Unmoving.
As if none of this—
Had anything to do with me.
I let out a quiet breath, leaning slightly against the tree, my attention seemingly drifting away from the fight.
Valen and the masked man clashed again, steel ringing sharply through the clearing. Sparks flew as their blades met, each exchange faster than the last. The Empress remained still, watching.
Valen was having trouble now
The masked man was being slippery and his target was the Empress
And Valen wasn't ready to let The Empress have a scratch in his watch.
Masked Man was focusing his Aura while Valen was spreading to absorb the shocks that The Empress might get as a side effect.
The Empress looked at me once-
As if wondering about my intentions.
Then again focused on the fight between Valen and the masked man.
The Empress said
"You are Assassin Guild Leader....right?"
Valen frowned
he had already thought the same
The masked man didn't confirm or deny her
The Empress fingers twitched
Then....
The Empress took out a scroll.
And I could guess it was probably one of two kind.
First kind was a teleportation scroll to take her to Empire so she is safe and Valen don't have to protect her
Second kind was a teleportation scroll to summon another Powerhouse from the Empire.
If it's first kind then after The Empress is gone the masked man might leave according to her as no point fighting when there is no target or Valen might kill the masked man.
If it's the second kind then Valen with another Powerhouse who will come may team up to kill the masked man or one can protect The Empress while other kills the masked man.
But right now The Empress have yet to use the scroll.
The masked man have noticed the scroll and haven't decided what to do as of yet.
The Empress have kept her hand on scroll in position to use it.
And from Sixth Sense and her intention that is the second kind which will summon another Powerhouse.
But the masked man won't know this for him it could be any kind.
He will surely take action now.
And I—
Turned my back to them.
Completely.
As if none of it concerned me.
As if a battle between Powerhouses was nothing more than background noise.
Valen noticed.
For a brief moment, his focus broke.
"Twelfth Lord—!"
His warning came too late.
The masked man vanished.
Not in front.
Not above.
Gone.
The next instant—
He appeared behind me.
Silent.
Perfect.
No presence. No warning.
His blade rose.
Aimed precisely at my back.
Only a few inches away.
Close enough that the cold edge almost touched my clothes.
The forest fell still.
Even the clash of steel had ceased.
And for the first time—
The masked man paused.
As if confirming something.
As if ensuring this strike would not fail.
His blade moved—
An attack by a Powerhouse
An attack by strongest assasin in the world
An attack by Assassin Guild Leader
And the distance between death and life…
Was no more than a breath.