I dread the chosen

Ava's eyes blazed with intense bloodlust as she fixed her gaze on the remaining Cyval soldiers. Every step she took sent heavy thuds echoing through the night, emanating her deadly intent.

Lyra swiftly commanded the soldiers, "Protect the ex-commander from the wolf!"

The five Cyval soldiers, now reduced in number, formed a defensive line in front of Vanuk, determined to shield him from Ava's approaching threat. They braced themselves, ready to face the fierce wolf with unwavering determination.

Meanwhile, Lyra and Azrael stood just a few meters apart, their eyes locked in an intense gaze. Gripping their weapons tightly, they prepared for the impending clash, their senses heightened to unprecedented levels, acutely aware of every muscle twitch the other made.

In a blur of movement, they collided with tremendous force. The resounding clash of their weapons sent shockwaves reverberating through the night, pushing the limits of their strength. Lyra's spear struggled to withstand the relentless assault as Azrael's sword slammed into it.

Suddenly, Azrael vanished, reappearing behind Lyra in an instant. His sword swung down, aimed directly at her, but even with her incredible reflexes, Lyra could barely react in time. She managed to block the strike with her spear, yet the impact shattered the ground beneath her.

Azrael continued his relentless attack, his sword unleashing a controlled frenzy of strikes. However, amidst the clash, Azrael noticed a significant change: Lyra's speed had noticeably diminished. She was nowhere near as swift as when she first stabbed him with her spear.

Lyra swung her spear repeatedly, desperately blocking Azrael's relentless assault. Yet, as the clash wore on, it became evident that she was struggling to keep up with Azrael's relentless barrage.

With another powerful swing of his sword, Azrael found an opening in Lyra's defense. Although she managed to block, multiple cuts from the phantom slashes tore through her arms, causing her to emit a soft moan of pain as blood began to trickle down her hands.

Azrael saw an opportunity as he launched at her again, but his sword missed completely as he was now standing a few meters away from Lyra, just as it had happened when he attempted to kill Vanuk. Lyra knelt on the ground, her hand stained with blood, seeping into the earth.

"I started at the pinnacle, and you at the lowest point. Look at us now. What a story, isn't it?" Lyra spoke, her gaze lifting to meet Azrael's as he stared down at her with an inscrutable expression.

"I know you're still holding back. With the strange abilities you've displayed, I shouldn't even be able to touch you. So why..." Azrael's voice trailed off, his mind grappling to understand Lyra's motives.

"Perhaps, subconsciously, I wanted to lose," Lyra began, her voice carrying a mix of contemplation and determination.

"Ever since I was a child, my father would always say, 'Great strength belongs to the hardworking and relentless, but even greater strength belongs to the chosen.' It implied that no matter how hard one worked, they could never surpass those who were chosen to be stronger." As Lyra spoke, her blood started to move in a controlled manner, weaving an intricate pattern.

"You know, I despised that notion. But as time passed, it became more and more true. Those blessed by fate, born into great families, bestowed with remarkable talents, special abilities, or even magic... They always stood as the strongest. But then you came along, with nothing, and yet you surpassed those so-called 'chosen'," Lyra continued, rising from the ground.

"On the day of the ambush, I was supposed to ensure your death. But I couldn't bring myself to kill you. I needed to see how far you would go. You became an example that what I could become, and who could surpass me, was solely up to me and the effort I put in," Lyra explained, her grip tightening around a shining crimson-red long rod that had formed from her blood.

"The way I see it, you are also counted among the 'chosen.' So why does it bother you so much?" Azrael asked, shifting his gaze to Ava, who stood at a distance, blood dripping from her mouth, while four of the remaining five Cyval soldiers lay lifeless on the ground.

"Yes, I am aware," Lyra replied, her tone resolute. "But that means that anyone granted even greater power by fate would easily surpass me, no matter how hard I worked. What an irritating concept."

"Well, I can no longer be the underdog you use as hope that you remain the strongest, as the power I possess now is also one I was chosen for," Azrael declared, his grip on his sword tightening.

"Yes, I see that now," Lyra's soft voice responded.

"I am the complete opposite of what you had hoped for. I am the chosen who have surpassed you and will take your life," Azrael stated, his determination evident as he prepared to end the fight with all his might.

"My life? Could you kill me, Azrael?" Lyra asked, her gaze unwavering.

"You know, many have tried, but it seems you might finally be the one. It would be quite sad if I died without giving my all. Besides, how would we truly know if you have surpassed me?" Lyra remarked, her gaze shifting to the carriage as she let out a long sigh.

"Guardian, please remove the seal," Lyra softly requested.

"Are you sure, Princess? Your mission will become void," the man questioned, stepping forward from behind Azrael as he walked towards Lyra.

Azrael's heart raced, and a surge of instinct compelled him to create distance. His mind echoed with the bewildered thought, "When did he get so close to me?" With wary eyes, he closely monitored the man's every move.

As the man approached Lyra, a flicker of approval danced across her face, prompting a nod. The man extended his hands gracefully over her head, causing an ethereal red circle to materialize on her forehead. In a fleeting moment, the circle vanished, leaving behind an air of mystique.

The guardian's words lingered in the air, "Well, I'll be watching," before he vanished once again.

Lyra's voice carried determination, tinged with anticipation, "Are you ready? I plan to engage you wholeheartedly this time."

Azrael's voice resonated with unwavering confidence, "Come."

A soft response escaped Lyra's lips, "Good."

And then, it happened.

A deafening explosion ripped through the air, unleashing a seismic shockwave that sent everything hurtling away with immense force. Azrael fought to remain standing, his body teetering on the brink of collapse. The sheer power unleashed by Lyra left no room for hesitation. The ground quivered beneath him, his legs digging into the earth as he desperately clung to his footing.

At the center of it all stood Lyra, a vision of strength and determination. Her long, flowing white hair defied gravity, standing on end as if charged with electricity. Her once familiar eyes had transformed into a mesmerizing shade of azure blue, brimming with an otherworldly energy.

With an air of challenge, Lyra's voice carried across the chaotic scene, "Let's see if you have truly surpassed me."