In Search of Kasena (ONC 2024) | ✓

Chapter 8

Unfortunately, it turned out Kasena wasn't participating in the tournament after all—unless she had a wickedly good disguise and a different sword, that is. However, he had a feeling they were getting closer. Slowly, but they were. Some villagers mentioned that they saw the woman, but Kasena was more difficult to pinpoint. She wasn't the only redhead in the world, so she stood out less to people who already saw an enormous amount of strangers roaming their streets, but she couldn't be that far, surely.

He just couldn't wrap his head around why she wasn't competing in the tournament. She had asked her father to participate before, and even though it likely wasn't her mother's final wish, he was under the impression that was one of the things she wanted the most. Could she really have given up of it? Now more than ever, he wished he actually knew her, understood her, that he could guess what was going through her head when she decided to come to Villart. But she was too far out of his reach, as intangible as a feeling.

Alarie, on the other hand, was doing amazing so far, especially for someone who claimed she hadn't trained enough. Day after day, she defeated every opponent she faced until she wound up in semifinals. He stood in the audience and waited for her next match. There were only two duels left before the finals, and Alarie now bowed along with another girl—Anne Dencourt, the announcer said—before they took their positions and prepared to begin the match.

Both wore a crude imitation of an armor consisting of a helmet and a simple breastplate. In reality, any honorable knight would be ashamed to call that an armor, but its purpose was only to protect the contestants from accidental injuries, more of a safety precaution than a functional protection. The helmets weren't even fully covering their faces, allowing the audience to see Alarie's cold, composed expression, as well as the shifting gaze and furrowed brows of her opponent.

The girl was nervous. Alarie must've sensed it too, because she confidently went in for a strike, holding the sword with only one hand. Anne blocked it, making her reaffirm her grip, now using both hands. They were locked in a stalemate for a few seconds, neither of them backing away, when Alarie used more force to lightly push her opponent back. As the girl was regaining her balance, Alarie tapped her shoulder with the sword.

"Strike!" the announcer yelled. Niel's smile widened as the audience behind him buzzed, commenting to each other about the newest development. While head, neck, and chest were the most critical zones, resulting in an immediate win in case of a contact, shoulders—along with arms, hips, and legs—were considered strike zones. Once a contestant made contact with them, they would earn a strike against their opponent—and three strikes would result in a win. He expected more of a back-and-forth exchange before either of them earned a strike, but the girl was clearly nervous, much to Alarie's advantage.

They stepped away from each other, and Anne tried to regain an upper hand, going in for a thrust. Alarie stepped back, avoiding it just in time and launching a counterattack that she managed to parry. Anne stepped back first this time, trying to evaluate the situation.

With her sword in her right hand again, Alarie swung it to the left, only to grab it with both hands and make a decisive strike towards Anne, who didn't block it properly. Alarie's sword brushed against her lower arm, and the announcer called another strike.

Alarie was winning; Niel was sure of it. Her demeanor was always calm and calculated, never faltering for even a second, while the girl was getting more and more nervous with each passing second—and in turn, more careless.

The match was over before he knew it. After gaining her second strike, Alarie went in with a thrust, and even though Anne tried her best to dodge it, Alarie's sword touched her chest before she fully deflected it.