Legacy of a Benevolent Lord
Chapter 49: A Graze to Kill a Man

Chapter 49: A Graze to Kill a Man

Her boots barely touched the earth as she advanced.

Both hands firmly grasped the sword grip, holding it with confidence. Her blade was positioned low, parallel to her thigh, with knees bent in a prepared stance.

The tip of the sword was angled slightly to the left, drawn back like a coiled serpent about to lash out fiercely.

Her waist twisted anticlockwise, adding to her agility.

She used her movement technique expertly, and it appeared as if she teleported across the space.

The rapid movement closed the distance between her and the man in an instant.

Her waist then untwisted clockwise, bringing the blade in an elegant arch to meet the man’s neck with precision and intent.

The assassin, aware of her intent, turned to meet her. Their blades clashed, metal against metal, force against force.

His saber curved down with precision, black energy surging along the sharp edge.

Her sword twisted up to meet it, and the clash sent a jolt through both of their arms. But it was only the first note before a brutal symphony.

Dozens of flashes of sword and saber rang on.

The assassin’s saber came cleaving diagonally from the left.

She ducked low and side-stepped, placing herself on the man’s right (on the left side from her perspective). Her blade flickered like lightning.

Just a slight adjustment from the assassin was enough to throw him off by a half-second, just enough to give her the opening she needed.

She charged her body with all the energy she had.

And in that narrow space between intention and contact, she tilted her sword.

It wasn’t to cleave like before, but to graze.

Twisting her waist, a beautiful silver arc was made.

Her blade’s tip glided across the right side of his neck, stopping exactly four inches deep; not enough to cut through, but perfectly positioned to slice open his artery.

A line of blood appeared on the man’s neck, delayed by mere heartbeats, before spilling out like ink across a scroll.

And she, too, moved forward, moving past him without turning back.

Gurgle.

"Cough. Hakkgh".

Gurgle.

The assassin staggered for a moment, instinctively reaching up with his hand to his throat.

His fingers pressed gently against the wound, trembling with a mix of pain and shock.

Blood trickled through the gaps between his fingers, soaking his palm.

But his face remained still. There was no fear. No anger. No desperation.

Only a flicker of thought and maybe a silent acknowledgement of failure.

His knees gave out, and he crumpled to the ground.

Not screaming.

Not pleading.

Just... still.

Selene, who had watched the encounter unfold in a breathless moment, shifted her stance and turned toward the girl.

Her eyes, calm and glacial, looked at her with a respect for her strength... but also with a hint of uncertainty—like there’s something unresolved inside her.

The girl in black also turned around to face Selene directly.

Both looked at each other for a good while. Both silent.

One graceful and the other blood-soaked.

However, the moment Selene took a step forward, she took a step backward, holding the sword in front of her with her right hand.

Her left hand had gone limp. Blood was flowing from her triceps.

It seemed she did not escape unscathed. Although the battle was short, it was fierce.

"I thank you for helping me, although I do not know why. But please, miss, I hope you understand my vigilance. I have been chased for many days, and I am not ready to trust anyone just like that."

Selene paused.

"Yes. You’re right. I apologize for the rudeness."

Nysalea shook her head. "If anyone should apologize, it should be me."

Of course, Selene was not going to give up just like that. So, she reached into her robes.

She drew out the jade pendant, an ancient piece that had been passed down from her mother, still warm from its earlier heartbeat and faintly glowing with the same rhythm that had led them here.

She remained silent, offering no questions or demands. Instead, she held the pendant, exposed in her hand.

The black clothed girl froze, her face smudged with dirt and spattered with blood, her breathing ragged.

Her sword didn’t lower right away. Her eyes, sharp with the instinct of prey cornered too many times, latched onto the pendant like it was a phantom.

Her lips parted slightly. Not to speak, but from disbelief. Disbelief so pure it stilled her next breath.

And for the first time since the chase had begun, her ’face’ broke.

Confusion. Disbelief. Recognition.

All of it flickered in her eyes in a storm of emotions she couldn’t name, let alone control.

Her fingers momentarily tightened their grip on the sword, showing a fleeting surge of determination.

Then they relaxed.

Because the impossible had just stared back at her.

That pendant. That shape.

Those exact, ancient carvings, every last stroke.

How could there be two?

How could this be real?

She stared at the jade pendant she’d worn her entire life, a one-of-a-kind treasure, deeply connected to her family, her mother, and her sense of self, now reflected back at her.

Perfectly.

Down to the last etched curve, every line, every burnished edge on the jade was identical; so identical that the moment she laid eyes on it, her mind rejected what she was seeing.

The girl in black had been taught that her jade was singular, not rare, not uncommon...

Singular!

Her mother, who did not explain where it came from, had given it to her with words soaked in finality: This pendant is yours now.

Yet here it was, its ’twin’ hanging from the hands of a stranger; no, not just a stranger, a woman whose presence raged and calmed cold storms.

Pulling out the jade pendant attached to a silver necklace from her bosom, she stepped closer, not out of any particular intention but in a desperate attempt to find a difference between them.

Her legs moved as her bones urged her to verify what her mind could not accept.

Each step she took tightened the world around her. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears, and her breath caught somewhere between awe and disbelief.

Selene didn’t speak. Although she didn’t show it, she, too, was surprised when the girl pulled out an identical pendant from her person.

She watched the storm of realization cloud the girl’s expression and simply let the pendant hang between them like a thread stretched across the impossible.

Two pendants.

Two pasts.

Two breaths, suspended in the same moment, both waiting to know.

Who are you?

........

Just as the heavy silence between Selene and Nysalea stretched into breathless uncertainty, a light, singsong voice echoed beside the girl in black.

"Hallooo~~... Who are you~?"