Path of the Unmentioned: The Missing Piece
Chapter 118: The Crown Princess [5]

The training hall fell silent as Eleanora stepped forward. Her wooden estoc held tightly in both hands.

Every eye followed her as she entered the circle. Her shoulders were tense, but her steps were firm. She wasn't backing down.

The air between the two sisters was different now, heavier. This wasn't just a sparring match.

There was something deeper behind their stares. Something unspoken. A history only the two of them understood.

Anastasia spun her wooden sword once, casually resting it on her shoulder. Her crimson eyes sparkled with amusement.

"Ready, Ellie?" she asked, voice light. "Same rules as before. If you can move me even one step, you win. No mana."

Eleanora gave a small nod. Her lips were pressed into a thin line, her eyes focused.

No words. Just determination.

Anastasia smiled faintly, then. Just like with Kyle, She quietly suppressed her Diamond-rank strength.

Matching Eleanora's level to keep things fair.

Then, Eleanora moved.

Her first attack was clean and fast. A straight thrust toward Anastasia's ribs.

The kind of strike that came from hours of drilling the basics. Smooth. Direct. Controlled.

Clack!

Anastasia blocked it without even shifting her feet. Just a small twist of her wrist.

"Good form," she said casually. "But predictable."

Eleanora didn't flinch. She backed off, adjusted her stance, and began circling slowly.

Each step was careful. Her eyes watching every inch of Anastasia's posture.

Then she struck again.

A feint high toward the neck. Then a low slash aimed at her sister's thigh.

Anastasia read it instantly. She stepped aside with ease. Letting the blade pass harmlessly by.

Her wooden sword tapped Eleanora's wrist lightly.

"Too obvious."

The hit wasn't hard. But it was enough to make the estoc wobble in Eleanora's grip.

Her fingers twitched, but she didn't drop it. Her knuckles were turning white from how tight she held the handle.

Still. She said nothing.

Instead, she changed tactics.

Her next attacks weren't straight-forward anymore. She began using smoother, trickier movements. One attack flowed into the next.

A quick thrust turned into a wide slash. A sudden pull-back turned into a short jab. Her blade danced.

Fast, controlled, and unpredictable.

A diagonal strike aimed at Anastasia's shoulder—

Clack!

Blocked, clean as ever.

A fast flick into a low sweep—

Clack!

Deflected just as smoothly.

Anastasia was still calm, still standing tall.

"Better," she said, smirking. "But you're still thinking in straight lines."

Eleanora's breathing stayed quiet. But her eyes were burning now. She didn't reply. She just kept moving.

And then… something changed.

Her steps became sharper. Her stance more fluid. The textbook movements gave way to something more natural, more instinctive.

Her blade stopped pausing between strikes. It began to flow. Cutting. Feinting. Sliding. Pressing.

Anastasia's smirk faded just a little. Her gaze sharpened.

'When did Ellie improve this much?'

Before Solvayne. Eleanora had always been precise, but stiff. Every move was by the book.

Now. She was fighting like someone who had learned from being pushed. From failing. From surviving.

Kyle, sitting off to the side with his classmates, straightened. He wiped sweat from his brow, still sore from his match. But his eyes widened.

Eleanora wasn't just holding her own now. She was pressuring Anastasia.

A rapid burst of thrusts came at her.

Three in quick succession, forcing Anastasia to lift her sword and actually move it. Not just twist. Not just deflect.

Clack! Clack! Clack!

Wood struck wood in a sharp. Steady rhythm that filled the hall.

Then came the real strike.

Eleanora feinted to the left. Then twisted into a spin. Bringing her blade up in a sharp, rising slash.

Anastasia caught it.

But for the first time…

She had to adjust her balance.

Her smile flickered.

A flicker of surprise crossed her face.

Anastasia wasn't expecting that.

But Eleanora didn't stop. She pressed forward. Her wooden estoc blurring through the air.

High. Low. A sharp diagonal slash. Then a straight thrust.

Each strike came faster than the last, smoother than before. She didn't pause between moves, didn't give Anastasia a moment to reset.

She attacked like someone who had done this a thousand times.

Anastasia blocked them all. Her weight shifted, her sword adjusted.

No longer just deflecting lazily. She was reacting.

The spar had changed.

This wasn't the same little sister she used to train.

Back then. Eleanora had been stiff, mechanical. She followed drills and forms exactly. But she never fought outside the lines.

Now?

Now she fought like someone who had seen real battle. Like someone who had been pushed into fights where hesitation meant defeat.

Her footwork was clean and light, always in motion. Her feints were hard to read. Drawing the eye one way while her real attack came from another.

There was no panic in her movements. Just focus.

When Anastasia tried to jab at her ribs. Eleanora was already twisting away, dodging with ease.

When Anastasia feinted high and swept low. Eleanora caught it, parrying like she'd expected it all along.

It was like fighting a reflection.

And then came the lunge.

Eleanora moved in, quick and sharp. A straight thrust aimed directly at Anastasia's chest. It was fast. Accurate. No wasted movement.

Anastasia raised her sword to deflect. Already preparing a counter.

But just before their weapons clashed—

Eleanora twisted her wrist.

The tip of her estoc curved mid-motion. Changing direction in a heartbeat.

It was subtle, but it completely threw off Anastasia's timing.

Her eyes widened.

Before she could think. Her body moved.

A single step back.

Just one.

But it was all that was needed.

Silence fell across the training hall.

No one spoke.

No one even breathed.

Anastasia stood still for a second. Staring at Eleanora.

Then slowly, she lowered her sword.

And laughed.

Not the cold, mocking laugh. This was different.

It was real. Warm. Proud.

"I don't have any pointers for you, Ellie," she said. Shaking her head with a smile. "Good job."

Eleanora blinked. For a second, she didn't seem to understand what just happened.

Then. A breath escaped her lips, and her shoulders relaxed just slightly.

Around the room. Students exchanged looks of disbelief.

Cassian let out a low whistle. "Well... damn."

Reo, who hadn't said a word during the entire spar, finally muttered, "That was insane."

Kyle's eyes were wide. He had seen the whole thing. And even through his soreness and bruised ego, a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

Luna elbowed Cassian. "Told you not to underestimate her."

Then she looked at Eleanora with a wide grin. "Guess the princess can fight after all."

Anastasia stepped forward and, without warning. Ruffled Eleanora's hair like she used to when they were younger.

"Guess I'll have to stop going easy on you," she teased.

Eleanora swatted her hand away, face a little red. But there was no anger behind it.

In fact… she almost smiled.

Anastasia's tone was light, but her eyes were sharp. Behind the playful act. She was thinking.

She felt it.

That skill wasn't just from training. It came from something deeper. Something real.

Experience.

This wasn't just academy practice.

'When did you get so strong, Ellie?'

But Anastasia didn't ask.

Not now.

She just turned to the rest of the class, clapped her hands together, and raised her voice.

"Alright! Who's next?"

———

The moment Anastasia dismissed the class. The students practically collapsed in relief. Some groaned as they stretched sore muscles.

While others limped toward the exit like wounded soldiers.

Luna. Still buzzing with excitement from Eleanora's surprising performance, bounced over to Kyle and Reo.

"Hey! You guys wanna check out that new cafe near the east gate?" she asked, grinning.

"I heard they have amazing mana-infused pastries. My treat!"

Reo rubbed the back of his neck. His usual energetic demeanor subdued. "Ah, sorry. Got some stuff to take care of."

Kyle, still processing the spar, shook his head. "Yeah, same. Maybe another time?"

Luna pouted but didn't push. "Fine, but you're both buying next time!"

With that, they split up.

Luna heading toward the academy gates. Reo vanishing down a side corridors.

And Kyle making his way to the teacher's quarters where he and Aurelia lived.

The walk back was quiet. Kyle's body ached from the brutal training session, but his mind was elsewhere.

'Library's restricted section.'

He reached the teacher's housing wing. A secluded area reserved for instructors and their families.

The hallway was empty. The only sound the soft hum of mana-powered lights overhead.

Kyle fished out his key and unlocked the door.

The apartment was quiet. Aurelia wasn't home yet. Probably still dealing with academy business.

He dropped his black blazer on the couch and headed straight for the bathroom. A hot shower helped loosen his stiff muscles. But it did nothing to clear his thoughts.

'Okay. Options.'

'Ask Aurelia for help?'

'Bad idea.' She'd interrogate him on why he needed access.

Maybe he could make up an excuse.

Kyle sighed. Running a hand through his damp hair.

He changed into fresh clothes and flopped onto his bed, staring at the ceiling.

———