Reborn as the Last van Ambrose-Chapter 89: Aithen the Wanderer vs. Huangyan

Word of Grim’s victory over Talyra had spread throughout the capital, drawing an even larger crowd than usual. Once you were sat in the arena, their was no where to go.

In the participants’ preparation area, Huangyan sat cross-legged on a simple mat, her eyes closed in meditation. Unlike the other competitors with their entourages of servants and assistants, she had requested solitude.

The door opened, and Grim entered.

"It’s almost time," he said simply.

Huangyan opened her amber eyes, the gold flecks within them catching the light. "House Orvannis?"

"Interested, but noncommittal. They’ll be watching you closely."

A small smile touched her lips. "Then I’ll give them something worth watching." She rose in a single fluid motion, sheathing her sword. "Have you decided on your message?"

Grim nodded. "Make it clear. Make it memorable."

"As you wish." She tilted her head slightly. "Do you doubt my ability to defeat him?"

"No," Grim replied honestly. "I doubt your ability to stop once you’ve started."

Something cold flickered in her eyes. "I’ve had a century to practice restraint, Lord Ambrose. I know exactly how far to go."

Before Grim could respond, a tournament official approached. "Lady Huangyan, you’re summoned to the arena."

She bowed slightly to Grim. "Watch carefully. This is how Caius taught me to send messages."

The crowd roared as Huangyan stepped into the sunlit arena. She was dressed simply in a dark tunic and trousers, her hair pulled back in a bun.

Across the arena, Aithen made his entrance. He was an imposing figure, standing well over six feet tall with broad shoulders and heavily muscled arms. His armor was ornate black plate with gold trimming. His helmet concealed his face entirely.

In the noble’s section, Julius Luminaris sat with his son Max and daughter Mira. Julius watched the proceedings, occasionally glancing toward the imperial box where the Empress observed the tournament. Chancellor Levenhart sat at her side, leaning in periodically to speak silently.

Lord Orvannis occupied a box nearby, his sharp eyes fixed on Huangyan.

Grim took his seat in the noble section today.

An official came to the center of the arena. A moment of tense silence fell over the crowd. He raised his hand, than dropped it quickly and shouted, "Begin!"

Aithen immediately charged forward, gripping his spear.

Huangyan didn’t move. She remained standing calmly, her sword still sheathed, watching Aithen’s approach with an expression of mild interest.

When he was three paces away, his spear already began its downward strike, she finally drew her blade. The movement was so quick that many in the audience couldn’t track it. One moment her hand was empty, the next her sword had intercepted Aithen’s massive spear.

The clash of metal rang out across the arena, but instead of being driven back by Aithen’s superior weight and momentum, Huangyan stood firm. Her slender blade somehow held against his spear, creating a shower of sparks that illuminated both their faces.

"Impossible," Aithen growled through his helmet.

"Predictable," Huangyan replied softly, though only he could hear.

What followed was a display of swordsmanship that left the audience breathless. Aithen’s style relied on power and reach, each swing capable of impaling a man instantly. Huangyan moved like water around his attacks, her blade finding the gaps in his defense. She made no attempt to block his full force again, instead redirecting and evading.

In the stands, Max Luminaris leaned forward, his eyes narrowing. "She’s toying with him," he muttered.

Julius’s expression darkened. "Who is this woman? I don’t remember her being this overpowering in her last match."

Grim watched the display with a detached expression, though inwardly he was impressed. Huangyan’s technique was flawless. She was indeed a student of Yongrun’s.

The crowd gasped as Aithen executed a sudden feint followed by a powerful horizontal slash. For a moment, it seemed Huangyan had miscalculated. The blade was aimed directly at her neck with no time to dodge.

Instead of retreating, she stepped toward Aithen, inside the arc of his swing. Her blade flashed upward, striking not his sword but his wrist. The precision cut sliced through a gap in his armor, severing his tendons.

Aithen’s spear clattered to the ground as his hand spasmed uselessly. Shock registered in his face. He immediately reached for a backup weapon with his left hand, a short sword attached to his thigh.

Huangyan allowed him to draw it.

"Yield," she said, loud enough for the front rows to hear. "There’s no shame in recognizing superior skill."

Aithen’s response was a roar of rage as he lunged forward. His technique with his off-hand was noticeably inferior, but his determination was still strong.

Huangyan sidestepped his attack, her blade tracing a thin line across his armor. It was a warning, clear to any experienced fighter watching.

In the imperial box, the Empress leaned forward slightly. "She’s giving him every opportunity to surrender," she observed.

Chancellor Levenhart nodded. "Unusual restraint in the semifinals. Most competitors would have ended it already."

"She’s not most competitors," the Empress replied. "Watch her eyes."

In the arena, Aithen launched a desperate flurry of attacks, each one met with the same calm precision. Huangyan deflected and countered, systematically dismantling his defense. With each exchange, she inflicted another small cut.

Blood seeped from a dozen minor wounds in Aithen’s armor. His breathing grew labored, audible even over the crowd’s reactions.

"Last chance," Huangyan said, stepping back slightly. "Yield, and walk away with your dignity intact."

Aithen’s response was to remove his helmet, revealing a face contorted with fury. Sweat plastered his dark hair to his forehead, and a thin trail of blood ran from the corner of his mouth where he had bitten his lip in pain.

"I do not yield," he spat, his voice carrying across the arena.

Huangyan’s demeanor didn’t change. If anything, her posture became more relaxed, her eyes more focused. "I see," she said calmly. "Then you’ve made your choice."

What happened next occurred so quickly that many spectators couldn’t follow it. Huangyan moved forward, her blade executing a complex pattern that seemed to leave afterimages in the air.

Aithen tried to counter, his short sword moving desperately to intercept. But he was outmatched in every way.

Sliding between armor plates to pierce his shoulder. As he gasped in pain, she withdrew and struck again, this time at his knee. Aithen collapsed to one knee, his face pale with shock and pain.

Her next attack was faster than before. The blade moved with such speed that it seemed to cut the very air.

A collective gasp rose from the audience as Aithen’s head separated from his body, the cut so clean that for a second, it remained in place. Then it toppled backward, his body slumping to the ground a moment later. Blood pooled on the arena, spreading outward in a dark crimson circle.

Silence fell over the arena.

Huangyan calmly cleaned her blade on a cloth, then sheathed it. She bowed to the imperial box, then turned and walked toward the exit.

In the noble’s section, Julius Luminaris’s face had drained of color. Mira covered her mouth with one hand, her eyes wide. Max’s expression was stone, but his fists were clenched tight.

And in the imperial box, the Empress leaned back in her seat, her expression unreadable. She said something to Chancellor Levenhart, who frowned deeply before nodding.

As Huangyan departed, Grim turned to see an imperial messenger approaching, his formal white and gold uniform marking him as a direct representative of the Empress herself.

"Lord Ambrose," the messenger said with a bow. "Her Imperial Majesty requests your immediate presence for an emergency council meeting.ƒrēenovelkiss.com