Chapter 76: Honor

Chapter 76: Chapter 76: Honor

"Pride goes before destruction, a haughty spirit before a fall." — The Book of Proverbs

The news that Princess Lyra and the human had grown unusually close didn’t simply spread through the elven capital.

It became fuel.

For Captain Vaelen, it was the final insult.

Humiliated in the forest.

Sidelined by the Queen.

And now forced to watch his political ally, Lord Cassian, become a trembling wreck hiding behind locked doors.

His influence was disappearing.

If the human stray continued unchecked, Vaelen feared the consequences would reach far beyond his own reputation.

his higher ups would begin questioning him.

The aristocrats would begin abandoning him.

And the court would start asking an uncomfortable question.

’Why was a human child more capable than one of the kingdom’s captains?’

Vaelen couldn’t allow that question to spread.

He didn’t need another assassination.

He needed something public.

Something undeniable.

An execution beneath the eyes of the entire court.

Two days after the incident in the archives, the midday sun poured through the towering silver trees surrounding the Sovereign Training Yard.

Riven was inspecting the edge of Garreth’s blade in his quarters when the heavy oak doors suddenly slammed open.

A royal herald stepped inside.

He unrolled a stamped parchment with a sharp snap.

"By the prerogative of the Military High Command and the Oath of the Silver Shield, Captain Vaelen of the Elven Elite Guard formally challenges the human Riven to an official and binding duel of honor."

The herald’s voice echoed through the chamber.

"Ground: The Sovereign Ring."

"No lethal magic."

"Victory shall be determined by submission or incapacitation."

From the corner of the room, Nyx lifted her head.

A low hiss escaped her throat.

Riven slowly slid Garreth’s blade back into its scabbard.

He looked toward the herald.

"Tell the captain I’ll be there in ten minutes."

The herald hesitated.

"That is all?"

Riven raised an eyebrow.

"Was I supposed to write him a letter?"

The herald quickly bowed.

"No, sir."

He turned and left.

Nyx approached Riven, her dark body winding around his shoulders.

Riven gently scratched beneath her chin.

"Stay out of this one."

Nyx chirped.

Riven glanced toward the window.

A cornered dog always bites.

And a wounded ego was no different.

The Sovereign Ring

By the time Riven entered the Sovereign Ring, half the court had gathered along the elevated stone terraces.

The amphitheater buzzed with conversation.

Nobles whispered behind their hands.

Military officers stood along the upper balconies.

Several young aristocrats had gathered together, clearly hoping to witness the human finally receive the punishment they believed he deserved.

Riven ignored them.

His eyes immediately moved toward the royal viewing dais.

Queen Aeloria sat calmly in her chair.

A faint smile rested on her lips.

Beside the railing stood Lyra.

Her hands were clenched tightly enough that her knuckles had turned white.

Her violet eyes remained fixed on Riven.

He gave her a small nod.

Her expression softened slightly.

Then she looked toward the center of the arena.

Captain Vaelen was already waiting.

He stood in pristine silver plate armor.

His broad shoulders were covered by the insignia of the Elite Guard, and his broadsword rested casually against one shoulder.

The captain looked every bit the veteran warrior.

He had spent decades training for combat.

He had fought monsters.

Bandits.

Foreign soldiers.

And countless duelists.

He was not weak.

Riven knew that.

Which was precisely why this duel might actually be interesting.

Vaelen noticed him.

Then laughed.

"So this is the famous human."

His voice carried across the arena.

He looked Riven up and down.

"No mask today?"

Riven said nothing.

Vaelen drew his broadsword.

Steel screamed against the scabbard.

"No dark mask to hide behind."

He pointed the blade toward Riven.

"No royal guards."

His golden eyes narrowed.

"Today, I carve that pretty face into ribbons and show this court what a real fighter looks like."

Several nobles laughed.

Riven walked toward the weapon rack.

He didn’t draw Garreth’s blade.

The rules required standardized steel.

He selected an elven steel sabre.

Riven rolled it once through his hand.

Good enough.

He looked toward Vaelen.

"Talk less."

His voice was quiet.

"Show me."

The laughter stopped.

The Duel

Vaelen moved first.

The instant the signal sounded, the captain exploded forward.

His speed was far greater than most people expected from someone wearing full plate.

His broadsword rose above his head.

Then came down.

Fast.

Heavy.

Brutal.

The blade struck the ground.

Boom.

Dust exploded outward.

But there was nothing beneath the sword.

Riven had already disappeared.

Phantom Step.

His body had shifted through shadow at the final instant, leaving behind a dense afterimage where he had stood.

Vaelen’s blade had destroyed it.

The captain’s eyes widened.

Riven appeared behind him.

The edge of the sabre rested against the vulnerable gap beneath Vaelen’s helmet.

"Behind you."

Vaelen spun.

His broadsword swept horizontally.

Riven raised his sabre.

Clang.

The impact rattled through his arms.

Vaelen was strong.

Very strong.

Riven slid backward several feet.

The captain followed immediately.

Another strike.

Then another.

Then another.

Riven parried.

Sidestepped.

Ducked.

Every movement was small.

Efficient.

Vaelen’s sword carried enormous power, but that power required commitment.

Every time the captain swung, Riven watched his shoulders.

His hips.

His feet.

His breathing.

He didn’t fight the blade.

He fought the person holding it.

Vaelen attacked again.

Riven stepped outside the arc.

The broadsword passed beside his face.

Riven struck the captain’s ribs.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

The blows weren’t strong enough to penetrate the armor.

They didn’t need to be.

Each strike forced Vaelen to adjust his stance.

Each adjustment cost him energy.

The captain began breathing harder.

Riven barely seemed affected.

The crowd slowly became quieter.

They had expected the human to survive for a few exchanges.

They hadn’t expected him to control the fight.

Vaelen roared and charged.

His form finally began to break.

He abandoned the careful technique of an elite soldier and relied entirely on strength.

Riven saw the opening.

There.

Vaelen thrust forward.

Too far.

Too committed.

Riven stepped aside.

His boot hooked behind the captain’s ankle.

At the same time, Riven slammed the pommel of his sabre against the joint of Vaelen’s sword arm.

Crack.

Vaelen screamed.

His fingers went numb.

The broadsword slipped from his hand.

Before it could strike the ground, Riven swept Vaelen’s legs away.

The captain crashed onto his back.

Dust exploded around him.

Riven was already moving.

He stepped forward.

His standard steel sabre settled against Vaelen’s throat.

Silence.

Absolute silence.

The entire amphitheater stared.

Vaelen lay beneath him, bruised, covered in dust, and completely defeated.

Riven’s breathing remained steady.

His dark eyes were calm.

"You rely too much on your armor, Captain."

His voice carried across the arena.

"And not enough on your instincts."

Vaelen stared up at him.

For the first time since the duel began, he looked afraid.

Riven removed the blade.

He stepped away.

Then he sheathed the sabre.

The duel was over.

No grand finishing attack.

No dramatic spell.

Just a clean defeat.

Riven turned his back on the captain.

The silence continued.

Then someone began clapping.

One slow clap.

Queen Aeloria.

She rose from her seat, a proud smile spreading across her face.

Another clap followed.

Then another.

The sound quickly spread throughout the arena.

Lyra was smiling too.

Not because Vaelen had lost.

Because Riven had won without killing him.

She let out the breath she had been holding.

Her shoulders finally relaxed.

Riven looked up toward the royal dais.

Their eyes met.

Lyra smiled brightly.

Riven gave her a small, knowing smirk.

Around them, the court had begun whispering again.

But this time, the whispers were different.

Nobody was calling him a stray.

Nobody was laughing about his age.

They were asking the same question.

Just who exactly was Riven?

And how terrifyingly strong would that human become if he kept growing?