The Raven Flame [The Crown Saga III] (First Draft)

Blood and Air

I charged toward Reza.

Alia had been on the verge of death, not once but twice, because of her. Queen Pangea may have already provided her with a few reprimanding words, but I didn't mind teaching her a thing or two about modesty. She hadn't even been to apologize to Alia.

My clenched hand ripped through the air with the force of a hurricane. No magic—pure rage.

Reza dropped a fraction of a second before my knuckles clashed with her square face.

It wasn't unexpected. I hadn't exposed my muscles to the burn of a fistfight since the Crown Trials. I was rusty, but I only needed a little time to adjust and remember.

I prepared myself for Reza to strike, but she skipped back instead. A smug smile embellished her thin lips as the dust settled around her shoes.

"You're fast, Princess, I'll give you that," she said, stretching her arms. "But you're predictable."

I clenched my fists tighter. "You sure like to hear yourself talk, don't you?" I asked, already slightly out of breath. I had put a lot of energy into that punch, hoping it would be enough to graze her at least.

According to Pangea, she was one of their strongest warriors. It would be a mistake on my part to underestimate her, especially given that I'd barely had half a year to forge my skillset.

However, I would disappoint Art if I couldn't even graze my opponent in the slightest. Besides, I would be stuck with this cursed ring if I didn't win this challenge. That wasn't an option.

Reza chuckled and crossed her arms. "Well, you give me little reason to keep my mouth shut. I mean, three minutes have already passed since you first raised your fist, and you haven't even tried attacking again.

"It is a mistake to let your enemy catch their breath. Always be sure you can outlast them and keep them on their toes. Never give them a chance to get ahead of you."

I raised my fists again, a deep frown settling across my brow. If she wanted a challenge, I'd give her a challenge.

"One hit," I whispered to myself. "I can do that."

I charged again, this time thinking with a plan in mind.

My fist split the air a second time, aiming for Reza's head. She ducked—as expected—and I twirled on my heel, raising my leg to kick her curling body.

She jumped like a feline to evade my approaching foot, and I grinned like a victor.

I swung my knitted hand backward to hit her in mid-air. Since we couldn't use our powers in this fight, she had no way of dodging my attack.

It was a sure win.

However, just as I was drawing air to celebrate my victory, Reza twisted in the air and grabbed my wrist. She used my momentum to flip herself and landed softly on the ground with her back to me.

"Predictable," she muttered with a smile that made my stomach twist. She still held my wrist tight in her grasp.

I sucked in a sharp breath when she pulled my wrist and tossed me over her shoulder.

The air was expelled from my lungs as the ground braced my fall. My diaphragm contracted, making it impossible to draw another breath.

I coughed, desperate to heave in air through my clenching throat, but Reza didn't allow me as much as a second to recover.

Only her shadow warned me of her attack. I barely managed to roll out of the way before her foot came smashing down where my head had once been.

She wasn't playing around.