Knights and Magic Wand
Chapter 518 - 518 245 Heart's Eye

518: Chapter 245: Heart’s Eye 518: Chapter 245: Heart’s Eye “Leon?”

Faced with the crowd’s call, Olivia’s eyes sought instruction.

“Let our visitors from afar witness your skill.

Bring some honor back to Avalon,” Leon smiled, giving his full approval.

Olivia’s eyes lit up with competitive spirit as she drew the blunt sword from her waist and stepped into the arena.

Curious about the martial arts of these unfamiliar Ranger Knights, the young girl prepared herself.

As Zabron returned to the crowd, brushing past her, he couldn’t help but whisper a warning, “Miss, that lord favors his left hand.

Be cautious of his skewed thrusts.”

Olivia nodded but did not immediately correct the guard’s misunderstanding.

She could discern that her opponent wasn’t left-handed but ambidextrous, adept at transitioning seamlessly between hands, focusing particularly on left-side thrusts—though she’d merely pointed it out for Uncle Zabron to watch for unfamiliar attack angles.

In the arena, Derek eyed the sword-wielding girl standing opposite him, puzzled by the surrounding atmosphere.

Even Baron Leon stood with arms crossed, making no move to intervene, which caused Derek to summon his focus.

After all, no knight here would let a girl with no martial skills simply come up for practice.

Which noble family was this spirited girl from?

Derek wasn’t unacquainted with noble ladies who fancied the martial arts, but most had only superficial training for self-defense.

This one, however—of such age and stature, clad in weighty heavy armor—was a rarity.

“Stone Tomb Castle, Derek.”

The Wolf Hunter Knight raised his spear and saluted, introducing himself to the new challenger.

He noticed the lion-faced emblem on her armor.

Even if he didn’t recognize its origin, he understood that the golden-haired, golden-eyed girl standing before him, whatever her story may be, bore the title of Knight.

“Olivia, from Selva,”

The girl stood tall, raising her longsword before her.

“Miss Olivia, you should swap out your weapon…

Or do you intend to challenge me in swordsmanship?” Derek advised.

He didn’t mind, carrying no risk of severe harm on his part.

Still, he worried about the disparity between long weapon and short weapon, fearing her inevitable defeat might prove embarrassing for a lady’s dignity.

Olivia shook her head with a smile and donned her helmet, locking the visor.

“Thank you for your concern, Lord Derek.

I shall use my sword.

Please feel free to showcase your mastery of martial arts.”

Helpless, Derek raised an amused eyebrow, breaking into a chuckle.

What an arrogant little girl; entertaining her for a bit wouldn’t hurt.

He raised his hand, about to call for the attendant to swap his spear for a longsword.

But the smile on his face faded as he caught sight of the girl already poised with her sword.

Olivia’s stance was bold yet subtle, leaning just slightly into her posture.

As an instinctual sense of danger struck, Derek stepped back, the shaft of his spear snapping into position with a swish.

The sharp blade struck nothing but air.

Outside the ring, Glenn Soren’s eyes widened, his fingers instinctively twirling his beard.

Though he hadn’t faced the strike himself, he perceived the dreamlike phantom that had flickered past the air.

Behind her visor, Olivia’s lips curved in a subtle smile.

For someone to possess such “intuition”—even in Avalon, previously only Lord Larian had demonstrated it, while Canis had proven comparatively slower.

This Ranger Knight’s skill was indeed extraordinary.

And yet… It was but a harmless bluff.

“…What was… that?”

Derek gripped his spear, his steps hesitant as he retreated half a pace.

The tip of the weapon still showed traces of tremor, seemingly caught between illusion and reality.

Witchcraft?

…No.

He dismissed the thought, for the necklace beneath his armor hadn’t reacted—there was no magical energy from any spellcaster present.

“Prepare yourself, Lord Derek.

Now comes the real swordsmanship—…”

The voice from within the lion-crested helm fell, and her steel boots appeared weightless as they stepped forward.

In an instant, the silver-armored girl knight, draped in a gray cloak, moved like a swift swallow skimming across water.

Derek banished his confusion, dismissing all underestimations, and spun the spear in readiness to meet her charge.

—Whoosh!

In a flash, the two were locked in multiple exchanges.

The cold gleam of their weapons transformed into a tangle of gusting air currents.

The spear’s phantom seemed to be gripped by a fierce beast; Olivia’s blade clung steadfastly, chasing down his dizzying thrusts until she closed the distance.

Olivia granted Derek no reprieve amidst the tight, relentless struggle.

Clang!

Clang!

Clang!

They traded positions fervently, their weapons crossing with dangerous precision.

The ringing of metal struggled to keep pace with the dazzling flashes of reflected light from their blades.

The younger knights and sergeants watching strained their eyes but found it impossible to trace the nearly vanishing movements of the weapons.

Transfixed by the thrilling display, Leon’s intense focus on the illusions made his head slightly ache…

Whether his “little lion” had grown stronger or was simply unchained against such formidable talent, it was undeniable that Olivia was no longer her past self.

Had she returned to Selva as she was now, even without the Death Claw, she might have carved through Dawson’s guards and severed his head herself.

Finally, after twenty exchanges, a heavy metallic clang signaled Derek leveraging his strength to disengage.

Sliding backward out of the ring without his feet touching the ground, he came to a halt only when he planted them firmly to stop.

Olivia did not pursue.

She circled her steps, lowered her guard, and raised her sword in salute, offering a double-edged expression of gratitude:

“Thank you for holding back and for your instruction, Lord Derek.”

Outside the circle, Derek relaxed his posture, momentarily speechless.

He propped his spear against the ground and lifted his visor, his expression openly rueful.

“…I began training at the age of six, wielding spear and sword for thirty years.

Knight Olivia, you’ve made me feel as though I’ve wasted half my life today.” The Wolf Hunter Knight admitted defeat, his tone respectful—no longer addressing her with the title of ‘Miss.’

As their Champion Knight overwhelmed the formidable Ranger, the surrounding soldiers erupted in cheers that shook the field.

Like a reigning champion, Olivia turned, planting her sword firmly, smiling brightly as she welcomed the continuing challenges from the Rangers.

With Derek’s loss as a precedent, the itching-to-compete warriors eagerly stepped forward.

No one underestimated the seemingly fragile girl now, each determined to show their full skill.

Leon remained relaxed, quietly spectating, showing no sign of worry.

He could see it clearly—long weapons, dual blades, great swords… The martial styles of the Rangers, hailing from disparate regions, made the matches thrilling for his “little lion.”

Neither in remote Selva nor in Avalon’s past had so many masters gathered.

Still, the martial exchange didn’t last too long; it was sparring, not a duel.

With each stepping forward, outcomes were swiftly decided in the spirit of learning…

—BANG!!

…Amid the abrupt clash of weapons, Glenn Soren’s grip on his spear shifted under a sudden change in force.

Realizing his opponent’s intent, he pressed back with equal strength, only to find himself shoved cleanly out of the ring in their stubborn contest of power.

Outsider Lokhak scratched his head—was Olivia settling a score on his behalf?

The old Ranger stumbled out, removing his helmet and waving a hand in surrender.

He couldn’t help lamenting that had the young knight’s monstrous strength aided him in the past, they might have succeeded in subduing that water creature with fewer sacrifices.

“Living long enough really lets you see everything.

Miss Olivia, did you cram a giant dragon into that small frame of yours?

Where does such strength come from?”

Removing her stifling helmet, Olivia shook her hair on both sides.

After so many consecutive matches against these fierce Ranger Knights, even she was breaking a sweat.

Yet her cheeks glowed red, and the young girl looked thoroughly exhilarated.

“You exaggerate.

I merely grew up farming, ate more, and built up solid strength,” Olivia joked, incapable of divulging her ancestral physiology.

“Haha, well, the food from Grey Robe Valley must be exceptional.

I’ll be sure to try more here and compare it to Ostania’s,” the old knight laughed heartily, dropping the subject.

As the sparring sessions concluded, the Rangers returned their training weapons and approached Leon to apologize for the disturbance.

Leon waved it off—it was nothing.

Giving his soldiers the chance to practice against such skilled opponents was immensely beneficial.

Still, as the grounds quieted and the training field emptied, Leon felt a tinge of regret.

Why had none of the Rangers challenged him?

He’d been hoping to show off a skill or two, only for his Golden Lion Knight to tackle them all solo.

Olivia accepted the wet towel Treya handed her to wipe her neck and teased, “…You’re still recovering from serious injuries.

If someone challenged you now, wouldn’t it be trouble?

Besides, you’re the Lord of Avalon.”

Leon shrugged.

True enough.

Yet he still picked up a blunt sword and made his way to the arena.

Though not yet fully healed, he was fit enough for sparring.

Besides, Olivia could temper her strikes.

But as he watched the girl resting on a nearby chair, his mind replayed her recent display.

He couldn’t resist asking, “What was that move of yours earlier?

I don’t recall seeing it before.”

“Which move do you mean?” Olivia returned the towel to Treya and turned back to him.

“The illusion-like strike you showed Lord Derek before your duel,” Leon gestured.

“You could see it too?” The girl’s surprise turned into excitement.

Rising with her blunt sword in hand, Olivia pondered briefly and explained, “It’s just a trick, really.

I use my posture and stance to simulate the spirit of a sword strike.

But beyond startling someone unexpectedly, it has no practical effect.

If they lack a deep understanding of martial arts, they won’t sense the hint, rendering it useless.”

“Try it on me—I must see for myself!”

Regardless of its efficacy, Leon found the technique fascinating, intrigued by his lover’s inventive skill.

“Alright… Just remember to block,” Olivia cautioned, “I demonstrated it to Lord Larian.

If you perceive it, you might experience phantom pain if struck.”

Leon, now more eager, raised his blade in anticipation.

Resigned, Olivia lifted her long sword, opting for simpler sword movements to try.

Watching the girl’s posture, Leon took a deep breath and tried to recapture the clarity of thought that had flooded his mind in moments of near-death.

Focus sharp, his senses extended to encompass Olivia’s presence…

Light, sound, the flowing breeze—his awareness began stretching outward…

A faint static rang through his mind, like the hum of electricity.

The falling dust seemed to halt, sensations stretched, flattened, and decelerated…

The contours around him blurred, though not sharply defined as on that day.

Yet he could foresee some movements faintly…

Within fractured trajectories, he saw something—but more distinctly than the rest.

Olivia’s outline strode forward, deliberate, lifting her sword for an outright downward strike—

This wasn’t foresight, but rather a prediction born of possibilities, as Olivia herself still stayed rooted where she stood.

And yet, compelled by the intensity of the phantom blade before him, Leon instinctively tried to block.

His shoulder shifted slightly, his body reacting unbidden; he found a vague outline of himself swinging his blade to counterattack…

Step, horizontal slash.

In an instant, two incorporeal sword edges collided, disintegrating into swirling fragments of chaos.

…Barely a fleeting moment.

Leon hadn’t moved.

Olivia hadn’t moved either.

“…Huh?”

The girl blinked in surprise, her golden eyes shimmering.

“Leon… You can do this too?” Olivia expressed her astonishment.

She had caught the looming hint of his blade’s future strike.

Surely, just like her, he hadn’t physically acted.

Not even Lord Larian had successfully attempted this when she last demonstrated.

Leon exhaled deeply, releasing his grip on the sword’s hilt slightly, shaking his head at her: “…No, it doesn’t feel the same.

Rather than me accomplishing it, perhaps you were the one who ‘sensed’ it better.”

With my skill, he mused, I couldn’t possibly manipulate my presence to project the spirit of an attack for others to discern.

Seeing Olivia tilt her head thoughtfully, trying to make sense of his explanation, Leon waved the matter away.

“Leave it be.

Let’s spar already.

I want to test my newfound skill,” Leon resumed his stance.

He hadn’t forgotten the reason he’d brought Olivia to the training field.

“Is this the ‘surprise’ you mentioned earlier?” The girl didn’t probe further and took her place opposite him.

Fastening her helmet, Olivia warned him to be cautious before launching her attack.

Clang!—Both swords collided as Leon retreated, calling out:

“Not enough, Olivia!

Show me the spirit that bested Lord Glenn Soren!”

Despite her hesitation to risk hurting him, Olivia sensed from his tone that Leon wasn’t merely trying to impress.

She quickened her pace to meet his demand.

With firm steps, the silver arc sliced forward, Olivia caught a glimpse of Leon shifting to avoid her strike.

Suddenly, she realized something felt entirely different.

Since teaching Leon martial arts, this marked the first time she misjudged his reaction.

No—It wasn’t just that!

Three distinctly divergent outcomes flashed in her mind:

—A slanting slash from below.

—A direct pommel strike toward her face.

—A retreat into a counter-thrust.

Each plausible possibility seemed equally likely.

Olivia’s golden eyes faltered momentarily amidst the split-second calculations.

Startled but undeterred, Olivia backed off and dragged her sword along, opting to position herself defensively and prepare for a counterattack…

But no pursuit came.

Instead, she witnessed Leon decisively launch himself backward with a single kick, retreating far from her range.

“Hah…”

Leon steadied his breath, maintaining his stance, his eyes alight with excitement.

The lack of openings… He knew chasing her down was futile.

“Leon?

You’ve grown much stronger!” Olivia praised earnestly.

She paused her steps, shifting into the low-guard variation of her Hidden Sword Style.

“Of course!

The mighty Mr.

Leon has changed for the better.

Show me your all!” Leon’s grin widened beneath his visor, still cheekily delighting in her compliment.

Olivia’s warm smile grew laden with pride and satisfaction.

“I’m sorry for underestimating you.”

The girl gathered her thoughts, composing herself, her expression shifting.

A subtle transformation overtook her gaze.

She resolved to take his challenge completely seriously.

Leon’s smugness froze mid-smirk.

What once appeared as indistinct silhouettes and trajectories surged forward, transforming into an indescribable torrential wave.

If against Arsen, Leon had witnessed countless strands of the Death Spiral clearly defined.

Now, he seemed to confront an inescapable flood of spectral chaos…