Chapter 24: HERO VS DEMON KING

Lyria returned three days later with her sword drawn.

Vael was eating breakfast.

"Fight me."

He looked at the blade.

Then at her.

"No."

She pointed it at him.

"Fight me."

"I heard you the first time."

Seraphina quietly moved her tea to another table.

Morrigan placed one hand on her weapon.

Vael looked at her.

"No."

Morrigan released it.

Lyria’s jaw tightened.

"You fought Arthas."

"Yes."

"You fought my family."

"Yes."

"You killed people carrying this crest."

"Yes."

"Then fight me."

Vael stood.

He followed her outside to an abandoned field beyond the village.

No System message appeared.

That felt correct.

Lyria attacked.

Her blade crossed the distance in a silver arc.

Vael moved half a step.

It missed.

Second strike.

He turned his shoulder.

Third.

He leaned back.

To Lyria, he looked effortless.

To Vael, every movement hurt for another reason.

He knew this sword.

He knew the style.

Arthas had favored direct pressure into a delayed reverse cut.

Lyria had changed the footwork.

Better balance.

Less wasted motion.

The style had survived its creator and become something new.

She accelerated.

Vael continued avoiding every strike.

"Fight back!"

"No."

"Why?"

"Because you are angry."

"I have a right to be!"

"Yes."

The answer made her angrier.

She swung harder.

Vael could have ended the duel a hundred ways.

Break the wrist.

Disarm.

Pressure point.

Magic suppression.

He did none of them.

Lyria’s blade cut his sleeve.

Then his shoulder.

A thin line of blood appeared.

Morrigan, watching from far away despite explicit orders, made a strangled noise.

Seraphina put a hand on her arm.

"Don’t."

Lyria attacked again.

"Why did you spare the bandits?"

Vael blinked at the question.

"What?"

"You could have killed them."

"Yes."

"Why didn’t you?"

"Because I didn’t need to."

"Would the old you have?"

Vael knew the answer.

"Yes."

Lyria’s sword struck his dagger when he finally drew it—not to attack, but to redirect the blade away from his eye.

Metal rang.

"Did the System make you change?" she demanded.

Vael stepped back.

"At first?"

He remembered counting seconds while holding Mira’s hand.

"Yes."

Another strike.

He parried.

"Now?"

Vael looked at her.

"No."

Lyria faltered.

Vael lowered the dagger.

She attacked anyway.

He did not move.

The sword stopped against his throat.

A thin line of blood appeared beneath the edge.

Lyria froze.

"You let me."

"Yes."

"Why?"

Vael looked at her.

"Because I spent most of my life deciding that being stronger meant I was right."

Wind moved through the grass.

"If I disarm you, I prove only that I am stronger."

Lyria’s grip trembled.

"That doesn’t answer anything."

"No."

"Then what am I supposed to do with this?"

Vael looked at the sword touching his throat.

"I don’t know."

"You always have a plan."

"Not for this."

She lowered the blade a fraction.

"Do you expect me to forgive you?"

"No."

"Do you expect me to believe you’ve changed?"

"No."

Her eyes narrowed.

"What do you expect?"

"Nothing."

The word surprised both of them.

Vael continued.

"I would like you to believe me someday. That is different."

Lyria lowered the sword.

For a while they stood in silence.

Then she sat in the grass.

Vael remained standing.

"Sit," she said.

He sat several feet away.

Lyria stared at the horizon.

"Tell me one thing about Arthas that isn’t in the books."

Vael almost smiled.

"He cheated at cards."

She looked at him.

"Seriously?"

"Constantly."

"What else?"

"He hated horses."

"My family has statues of him on horses."

"He would have considered that revenge."

Lyria’s mouth twitched.

Vael continued.

"He swore whenever he was nervous. Badly. No creativity."

A small laugh escaped her.

It was not forgiveness.

It was not reconciliation.

But it was the first bridge plank placed back over the gap.

The System remained silent.

Vael was glad.