Kavien led Isla deep into the dense, overgrown outskirts of a nearby jungle, selecting a secluded, highly dangerous clearing far away from the safety of the academy grounds.
The strict trainer, Prince Lucier, the academy teacher, and a handful of curious, trembling students had trailed cautiously behind to witness the high-stakes duel.
Dorian, however, was shivering so violently from the sheer, overwhelming intimidation of Kavien's presence that Isla had gently but firmly ordered him to go straight home to safety.
Now, it was just the two of them standing in the center of the tense clearing.
Kavien and Isla locked eyes in a fierce, unyielding staredown. Kavien was fighting purely to satisfy his massive, insatiable ego, while Isla's blood boiled as she fought for the agonizing memory of the cruel atrocities this very boy—and his cursed sword—had inflicted upon the poor Queen in her past life.
Just as they both raised their heavy blades to strike, an absolutely deafening, blood-curdling roar ripped through the tranquil forest.
The horrific sound chilled everyone to the very bone.
Utter panic instantly erupted.
The spectators, including the teacher and the students, screamed in sheer terror and blindly scattered, desperately fleeing for their lives.
Isla, however, remained rooted to the spot, entirely confused as to what was happening—until a massive, indescribably hideous beast crashed violently through the tree line, charging directly toward her.
'Good heavens,' Isla thought, a highly inappropriate, borderline hysterical observation crossing her mind despite the deadly situation.
'I honestly never thought anyone or anything could possibly be uglier than my fat, bald, rhino of an ex-boss... but this absolute monstrosity is easily four steps ahead of him in the ugly department!'
While everyone else had coward and fled, Isla felt a sudden, thrilling surge of excitement.
'Finally! After holding back for so long, I can actually unleash my magic on this ugly thing!'
Bursting with fierce confidence, she aggressively thrust her hand forward, fully expecting a devastating blast of arcane energy to obliterate the monster.
But absolutely nothing happened.
What?? What the hell is this??
What happens??
She blinked, looking down at her outstretched hand, and her stomach violently plummeted into her boots.
Her finger was completely bare.
'What the hell?!
Where is my ring?!'
she panicked, her confident facade instantly shattering into a million pieces.
'No, no, no, this cannot be happening right now!'
With the terrifying beast closing the distance at an alarming speed, Isla's survival instincts violently kicked in.
She suddenly realized she was absolutely powerless and entirely defenseless.
She spun on her heel and sprinted in the opposite direction.
But in her frantic, breathless panic, the tip of her boot caught harshly on a jagged, protruding rock.
She pitched forward, crashing heavily into the unforgiving dirt.
The beast loomed over her, its foul breath washing over her face as it prepared to strike.
Isla squeezed her eyes shut, bracing for the agonizing end.
But instead of sharp teeth tearing into her flesh, a blindingly bright flash of light pierced through her closed eyelids, accompanied by the deafening, metallic clash of a heavy sword.
Her eyes snapped open.
There, standing fiercely between her and the monstrous beast, was Kavien.
He was wielding his massive broadsword with terrifying, breathtaking precision.
As he relentlessly slashed at the monster, the horrific snake emblem engraved upon his hilt began to glow with a brilliant, blindingly intense, supernatural light that was almost impossible to look at directly.
With one final, devastating strike, Kavien brutally severed the beast's head, sending the massive creature crashing lifelessly to the forest floor.
Breathing heavily, Kavien wiped a streak of monster blood from his cheek and walked casually over to where Isla was sprawled in the dirt.
"Princess Isla," he asked, his usually cold voice carrying a faint, highly unusual trace of genuine concern.
"Are you alright?"
Isla was completely mesmerized, simply staring up at him in absolute, breathless awe.
"Well, we should really get out of here," Kavien sighed, reaching into his pocket and tossing a small, familiar object into her lap.
"And by the way, here is your ring.
You carelessly dropped it back at the academy grounds.
Are you entirely unharmed, Princess?"
Isla was still completely lost in the fierce, glowing intensity of his yellow eyes and the sheer, unexpected heroism of his actions.
"Princess!"
Kavien snapped his fingers loudly in front of her face, breaking her trance.
"Hello?
What exactly is wrong with you?
I asked if you were alright, and where exactly is your mind wandering off to?
Come on, get up.
It is getting incredibly late, and your royal parents are probably pacing the palace halls in sheer panic by now."
"R-right," Isla stammered,
shaking her head and placing her palms in the dirt to push herself up.
But the absolute second she put weight on her right foot, a blinding, white-hot agony shot up her leg.
"Ah! Ouch!"
she cried out, collapsing back down in agonizing pain.
"I think... I think my ankle is severely sprained.
I can't stand up!"
She was still wincing and clutching her swollen ankle when, completely without warning, Kavien leaned down and effortlessly scooped her up into his strong arms, lifting her effortlessly in a firm bridal carry.
Isla gasped, her eyes widening to the size of saucers.
"What on earth do you think you are doing?!"
Kavien stared straight ahead, his face an utterly blank mask of pure, unadulterated sarcasm.
"Oh, you know, just practicing my ballroom dancing with you out here in the blood-soaked dirt.
It feels absolutely fantastic."
"What?!"
Isla sputtered indignantly.
"Are you blind as well as clumsy?"
he retorted smoothly.
"You clearly cannot walk, so I am reluctantly assisting you. Believe me, I have absolutely zero desire to carry a fragile, annoying princess around the woods like a sack of potatoes."
He adjusted his grip slightly, letting out a highly exaggerated, dramatic sigh.
"Let us just go.
And for the record, you are incredibly heavy.
You should seriously consider eating a little less."
He delivered the harsh insult with pure, unfiltered attitude, entirely refusing to look down at her face or meet her gaze.
But despite his rude remarks, Isla couldn't look away.
For the entire walk back toward the main path, she simply stared up at him, her gaze fixated on his sharp jawline and the intense, striking hue of his eyes.
"I am well aware that I am incredibly handsome," Kavien suddenly stated, breaking the silence without even glancing down.
"But there is really no need for you to stare at me that intensely.
I am not some decorative marble statue sitting in your grand palace for you to gawk at whenever you please.
Besides... the way you are staring so pathetically at me, it seems like you are desperately trying to formulate a specific, polite phrase.
Perhaps something along the lines of... 'Thank you'?"
Isla blinked, her fierce pride warring with her genuine gratitude for a brief second before she finally relented.
"...Thank you,"
she mumbled softly.
"What?"
Kavien gasped.
The sheer, unprecedented shock of hearing the stubborn, fiery Princess actually thank him completely short-circuited his brain.
His arms instinctively went entirely slack, and he literally dropped her.
THUD.