Kingdom Building Game: Starting Out With A Million Upgrade Points! - Chapter 176

Chapter 176: • Blades and Longing

Her blond hair was pulled back tight, blue eyes locked on Arkanos, a look of respect and defiance in her stance.

The knights fell silent, stepping back to clear the dirt-streaked courtyard, the air tensing like a drawn bow.

Arkanos’s lips curved, pride flashing in his eyes. “Bold as ever, Seraphine. Come, then, let’s see how much you’ve improved.” He raised his sword, stance loose, inviting her to strike.

They clashed like thunder, blades meeting in a shower of sparks that hissed as they hit the ground, kicking up puffs of dust.

Seraphine was fast, her strikes sharp and controlled, aiming for gaps in Arkanos’s guard—a thrust to his chest, a slash to his thigh.

He parried each, fluid as water, his blade weaving a silver dance, boots sliding over the dirt with grace. Seraphine pressed harder, feinting left then cutting right, her armor clanking as she moved, sweat beading on her brow.

Arkanos countered with a flick of his wrist, sending her blade high, then stepped in, their swords locking with a screech, faces inches apart.

“You’re holding back again,” he said, voice low, almost teasing, emerald eyes glinting.

She grinned, teeth gritted. “Just warming up, my lord.” She shoved off, spinning into a low slash, but Arkanos was already moving, sidestepping and tapping her blade aside, the clang echoing off the walls.

They traded blows, the courtyard ringing with steel, dust swirling around them, the sun glinting off their armor like fire.

Seraphine was relentless, her sword a blur with each swing, but Arkanos matched her effortlessly, correcting mid-strike—”Footwork, Seraphine, you’re drifting left”—even as he deflected a thrust that would’ve gutted a lesser man.

Meanwhile…

From the shadows of a stone pillar at the courtyard’s edge, a peculiar woman watched with a longing heat in her gaze… Head Priestess Isode watched, her white silk robes blending with the wall’s gray.

Her purple eyes were fixed on Arkanos, tracing the fluid arc of his movements, the way his silver hair caught the sun, the ripple of muscle under his tunic as he spun. She bit her lower lip. “Are you really going to torment me like that?” she whispered, voice barely audible, her breath steaming faintly in the cool air, lips parting as she bit her nails, a flush creeping up her neck.

Her fingers tightened on the pillar, nails scraping stone. “How long, Arkanos? How long will you keep me waiting, burning like this? Aren’t you the emperor? Aren’t you supposed to make the first move?”

Two knights nearby, leaning on a water barrel, caught her silhouette and paused, one nudging the other. “What’s the Head Priestess doing here?” he muttered, wiping sweat from his brow. “Hiding behind a pillar, staring like that?”

The second knight, older, smacked his arm, voice low. “Mind your business, lad. Walk away before you regret it.” They grabbed their swords and shuffled off, casting wary glances back at the priestess, her whispers lost in the clash of steel.

The spar grew fiercer, Seraphine driving Arkanos toward a rack of shields, her blade flashing in tight arcs, sweat streaming down her face, armor gleaming with dust and light.

Arkanos laughed and countered with a sudden spin, his sword knocking hers wide, the force rattling her grip.

She staggered but recovered, lunging again, only for him to parry and step inside, their blades locking once more, dirt crunching under their boots.

A new voice broke the rhythm. “Emperor Arkanos!” Arvel, the royal advisor, bustled into the courtyard, his velvet robes flapping, monocle glinting as he adjusted it with a nervous twitch.

His ashen hair fluttered slightly as he called out, “Important matters, sire! Your… heroes have returned!”

In that instant, Arkanos moved like lightning. He twisted his blade, sending Seraphine’s sword flying in a high arc, clattering against a stone wall with a metallic scream.

Before she could react, he swept her legs with a low kick, precise and swift, dropping her to the dirt with a thud, her armor scraping as she landed on her back, panting, sweat-soaked, dark hair plastered to her face.

Her blue eyes locked with his, fierce but filled with awe, chest heaving as she caught her breath.

Arkanos sheathed his sword, a faint smile on his lips, the sun framing him like a halo. He turned to Arvel, voice calm. “I’ll be there.” Then he offered Seraphine a hand, pulling her up with ease, dust clinging to her armor. “You’ve gotten far better, Seraphine,” he said, his emerald eyes warm but teasing. “But my sword’s still sharper than yours.”

She dusted herself off, smirking despite the ache, wiping sweat from her brow. “That remains a mystery to me, sire. I feel like I have trained more, but it seems it’s still a while before I catch up.” Her voice was steady, but her gaze lingered, a spark of challenge still burning as she retrieved her blade.

Isode’s breath hitched behind the pillar, her nails digging deeper, a faint tremor between her legs as Arkanos strode past, his shadow brushing the stone where she hid, her whispered words swallowed by the clatter of knights resuming their drills and the distant cry of a hawk circling the barracks under the unrelenting sun.

…

…

THUD.

A heavy silence hung in the air, broken only by the echoing thud of several severed heads rolling across the polished obsidian floor of the grand strategy room in the imperial castle.

One of them, still recognizable, was the grim and defiant face of Vaelin, the Akerian general. The others, bloodied and vacant-eyed, were his loyal lieutenants.

“The border is clean, Your Majesty. Vaelin and his lieutenants won’t be intruding again. Nor will any of the other Akerians who dared set foot on imperial soil,” Ivan said coldly as he and Abbadon stood before their lord, his generals, the Imperial Marshal, the High Priestess, and the noble lords and ladies who had sworn their bloodlines to his throne… although only those who would be of use to the war were present.