The Final Match

“Allez!”

Professor Sword’s hand sliced through the air and slammed hard toward the floor.

TANG—!

The moment the command was given, Kairen, the North’s representative, was the first to launch himself forward.

His blackwood sword traced a heavy arc through the air, hurtling toward Violetta’s left shoulder.

‘If I drag this out, I’m the one at a disadvantage anyway!’

Kairen coolly assessed the throbbing pain in his wrist and the lingering effects of his concussion.

Trying to pace himself against the Eastern duchess, who’d conserved her stamina, would be suicide.

So he concluded he had to shatter Violetta’s breathing and rhythm themselves with more force than necessary.

Kairen’s eyes flashed fiercely...