Chapter 19

Mira suddenly burst into mischievous laughter, the sound ringing through the banquet hall, sending a wave of confusion through the crowd. The tension in the air, which had been suffocating just moments ago, now shifted into something unpredictable. The guests exchanged bewildered glances, unsure of what was unfolding before them.

But Mira's eyes never left Athasia.

Then, in a fluid motion, she flicked her wrists.

In an instant, eight gleaming knives appeared between her fingers, the sharp metal reflecting the golden chandelier lights above. Gasps erupted among the guests as they instinctively took a step back, but Mira remained composed, her lips curling into a smirk.

With a flick of her hands, the knives shot forward—fast, precise, deadly.

The crowd barely had time to react before Athasia moved.

Swift. Effortless. Deadly.

She dodged with ease, her body weaving through the incoming blades like a shadow slipping through cracks in the darkness. Then, in one seamless motion, she caught six of the knives, the cold metal resting firmly in her grip.

Mira's smirk widened.

Before the crowd could comprehend what was happening, Athasia turned the knives in her hand and, with flawless precision, threw them right back at Mira.

Mira barely had time to dodge, tilting her head to the side as a knife whizzed past her cheek, leaving a thin, sharp cut. But instead of being alarmed, her smirk deepened.

"Tch." She clicked her tongue playfully. "Still sharp as ever, I see."

Then, without warning, she dashed towards the far end of the banquet hall, her gaze locked onto one of the decorative weapons mounted on the wall.

In one swift motion, she grabbed a sword, its polished blade glinting under the chandelier lights. The murmurs in the crowd grew louder, some in shock, some in fear, but none dared to interfere.

Mira twirled the sword in her grip before charging at Athasia, her movements quick and aggressive. The force behind her strike would've been enough to take down an average opponent, but Athasia was no ordinary opponent.

She moved like a shadow, dodging effortlessly, her body fluid and controlled.

Then, in a blur of motion, she flashed behind Mira.

Before Mira could react, she felt the weapon being snatched from her grip.

She whirled around—but it was too late.

Athasia now stood before her, holding the very sword she had just wielded. The blade gleamed under the lights, its sharp edge now pointed directly at Mira's throat.

Athasia's lips curled into a small, knowing smile.

"Is this how you greet an old friend?" She asked, her voice smooth, yet laced with amusement.

Mira, despite having a sword pointed at her, grinned.

The hall remained silent, filled with hundreds of shocked eyes, yet to Athasia and Mira, it felt like they were the only two people in the world.