Velka POV

Velka felt the phantom sensations where her arm used to be. It reminded her constantly of her failures that drove her forward every single day since the mines. She remembered, oh she fucking remembered. Rufus dead, that bitch of a bodyguard appearing out of nowhere, the wet sound of her arm hitting the ground while she screamed.

She'd replayed it so many times the edges had worn smooth, but the rage underneath stayed sharp as ever. A blade she'd been honing for months now.

Velka flexed her [Mana Construct] arm and felt satisfaction at how perfectly it responded after months of grinding herself into the ground to master it. The skill had been worth every sleepless night and moment of agony pushing past her limits to reach peak Rank 4, because now she could finally hunt Theodore Lockheart properly.

The construct was better than flesh in some ways. It was stronger, more versatile, immune to pain, but it was still a reminder of what that fucking Lockheart had cost her. Everything she'd built with Rufus destroyed by one man.

Her missing arm didn't matter. What mattered was that she'd found him. Theodore was here, in Instance Seven, exactly where her contacts said he'd be. She'd pulled every string, called in every favor, bribed the right officials to make sure she ended up in the same Instance because this wasn't about winning some tournament for her, it was much more about making him understand that death was coming for him, that she was coming for him, and there wasn't a damn thing he could do to stop it.

Her sources had kept her informed about his progress over the months, how he'd somehow jumped from barely Rank 1 to competing with Rank 4s, and the impossibility of it made her suspect it wasn't true. That, or he had ingested some elixirs he shouldn't have, for they typically had long term effects on the consumer… like her, for example.

But she didn't care about those, after all she'd grown stronger, pushed herself past every limit, advanced to peak Rank 4 through sheer determination and the burning need to see fear in his eyes before she ended him.

She'd been inside the Instance for some time now, for she wanted him to gather some bracelets, have hope inside him before she crushed it. When she was ready, finding him took less than an hour because of course the arrogant bastard wasn't even trying to hide, sitting in a clearing like he owned the entire Instance, and the casual confidence of it made her teeth clench so hard her jaw ached.

She recognized the trap for what it was—bait for idiots who thought he was actually resting.

She rolled her eyes at the predictability of it all. The spoiled prince probably had some enhanced artifacts from daddy's vault, maybe a few defensive enchantments that would crumble under real pressure. The binding enchantments the trio was setting up would probably work just fine.

She was, however, surprised to see how quickly he crushed them into the dirt with pure mana pressure.

What the fuck? That wasn't possible. No Rank 2 could generate that kind of pressure, not without... Had to be an artifact, or Relic, some kind of mana amplifier. Had to be.

The twins that came next were more interesting. They seemed like actual professionals who made him work for about a minute before he blasted one of them through multiple trees.

She'd initially thought the twins would expose his limits—they were professionals, after all, not like those amateur Rank 3s. When they started their coordinated assault, she was certain she'd finally see him struggle and rely on whatever crutch was giving him this fake power.

But then that blast... No artifact she knew of could store and redirect energy like that.

"You can stop hiding," Theodore called out. "I know you've been following me since the twins showed up. Either commit to an attack or leave, but this stalking thing is getting tedious."

Velka froze.

No way.

He couldn't have sensed her, could he?

She added more layers onto her stealth, but it was unnecessary, she found, as a man walked out. She breathed a sigh of relief. It was the one called Cassius who really showed her what she needed to see.

When Cassius's [Sword Aura] manifested, Velka felt a surge of vindictive satisfaction. Finally, something that would cut through whatever bullshit defense Theodore was using.

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[Sword Aura] couldn't be blocked by normal means, and certainly couldn't be deflected by some artifact. She leaned forward slightly, waiting for the moment when Cassius would carve through him and expose the frightened boy underneath all that false power.

But then Theodore met it with his own concept, that severing force that shouldn't exist in someone his age, and they were actually trading blows equally. Her satisfaction curdled into something cold and uncertain and ugly and furious.

They fought like they were playing chess, moves and counter-moves that revealed more about Theodore's actual capabilities than hours of stalking would have shown. He was absorbing the power behind attacks, she realized, storing it for those explosive releases.

Then there was that teleportation skill of his, whatever it was.

The way he moved was different from the last time they'd fought. He was sharper, for one, more refined as well.

The rage that had sustained her through these months of preparation burned cold now, focused into something more useful than blind fury. She'd learned that lesson the hard way when that bodyguard bitch had taken her arm—emotion without control just got you hurt.

When Cassius mentioned someone had been stalking Theodore, she knew it was time. She deliberately let her concealment slip just enough for him to sense her approach, because she wanted him to know she was coming, to recognize her and understand that his death was coming.

The construct arm morphed into a blade as she struck directly for his heart, fast enough that even she could barely track her own movement.

His hand caught her wrist and space twisted, suddenly he was behind her, his voice maddeningly casual. "How have you been, Velka?"

The rage that erupted through her at his casual greeting made her vision blur red at the edges, but she spun immediately, no words needed between them because what was the point of talking when actions said everything necessary.

"Not much for conversation?" Theodore asked, dodging her follow-up strikes with that same infuriating ease.

Her flesh arm drew a second dagger while the construct arm shifted into multiple striking points, and the surprise on his face when she nearly tagged him felt like victory.

She'd gotten faster, much faster, and he hadn't expected that level of improvement.

It vindicated her, seeing that expression on his face.

"Interesting," he said, "that mana skill of yours is very interesting."

The fight escalated quickly, her using every technique she'd developed except for the three she was keeping in reserve. The construct arm gave her advantages nobody expected—extending mid-strike, changing density to slip through guards, creating false openings that were actually traps.

She saw him stumble slightly on one of her feints and felt triumph surge through her. There, proof that he was still just a boy playing with power he didn't deserve. Her next strike would end this joke of a fight.

But the stumble had been deliberate, she realized too late, as he flowed around her real attack like water, and she had to twist desperately to avoid his counter.

She could see him analyzing each move. Those infuriating calculating eyes took apart her techniques, but that was fine because she was analyzing him right back. The spatial displacement took concentration, she noticed, and he couldn't use it while absorbing the power behind her attacks.

The severing concept required active focus to maintain, which meant if she could overwhelm him with enough simultaneous attacks...

She managed to cut his cheek, enough to draw blood, and the shock on his face was worth every hour of training. But then he started talking about Rufus, about disappointment and moving on, and the rage spiked hard enough that she lost her careful control for a moment.

But she quickly got herself under control, she knew he was trying to get under her nerves.

He caught both her wrists, his grip unbreakable despite her peak Rank 4 strength, and she could feel him still holding back, still not taking her seriously as a real threat. The construct arm solidified into a spike aimed at his throat, but he tilted his head just enough to avoid it while his hand touched her bracelet.

She couldn't even process when he took her bracelet.

The elimination hit instantly and she found herself outside the Instance, breathing hard but completely in control. She'd gotten what she came for.

A clear picture of his current abilities, his habits, his limitations. He thought she'd shown him everything but she'd deliberately held back everything, created false patterns he'd remember, let him think she was slower than she actually was.

The crowd around the viewing screens gave her a wide berth, probably sensing the killing intent she wasn't bothering to hide, and she used the space to think through what she'd observed.

Theodore's growth was abnormal but not impossible to counter.

Whatever elixir he'd consumed, whatever artifact had accelerated his growth, it had limits. He was still human, had vulnerabilities, and still bled when cut. And she would find every single weakness, exploit every opening, because that's what Rufus would've done.

The smart play would be to wait, to keep training and preparing until she was absolutely certain of victory. But she could feel time working against her, because every day Theodore grew stronger, her vengeance went farther and farther away. She needed to strike soon, while his overconfidence was still fresh, while he still thought of her as a revenge-obsessed fool instead of the weapon she'd become.

***

Theodore POV

That was… disappointing.

While she had undoubtedly gotten stronger, she was nowhere his match. He had been holding back considerably, moreso, he had even fooled her with blood and shock. She was blinded by rage and a thirst for vengeance, disguising under a delusion of self control.

It'd be interesting when he met her again.

Well, anyway. He had crossed two hundred bracelets.

Was it time to let this end?

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