The Villain Professor's Second Chance

Without warning, I broke the lock of our blades, spinning to the side in one fluid motion, my left-hand sword coming up in a vicious arc aimed at his ribs. Lyan reacted instantly, deflecting the blow with a sharp flick of his wrist, but I was already moving again. My right-hand sword followed, cutting toward his midsection, and I saw a flicker of surprise cross his face.

He twisted, just barely managing to dodge the strike, his tail snapping toward me like a whip.

I blocked it with my off-hand sword, the impact sending a jolt through my arm, but I didn't falter. My feet slid across the marble floor as I shifted my stance, pressing the attack. Lyan's counterattacks were relentless, each swing of his blade coming faster, harder, but my mind was already racing ahead, analyzing his movements, calculating his next strike before it came.

He had power—raw, overwhelming power—but I had precision. I had control.

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I aimed a low strike at his legs, forcing him to leap back. As soon as his feet hit the ground, I lunged forward, aiming to take advantage of his momentary imbalance. My blade slashed toward his chest, but he blocked it, his sword moving with startling speed. Our weapons met with a resounding crash, the force of the impact reverberating through my arms.

The tension between us snapped, and we disengaged, both of us retreating a few steps, our breaths coming faster now. The fight had barely begun, but I could already feel the weight of it pressing down on us both. Lyan's eyes gleamed with that same dangerous amusement, his lips curling into a faint smirk.

"Not bad," he muttered, his voice low and gravelly. "But you'll need more than that."

I didn't respond. Words were a waste of energy, and I had no intention of giving him the satisfaction of a reply. Instead, I surged forward again, my body a blur of motion as I struck at him from multiple angles. My blades moved with surgical precision, each strike aimed to test his defenses, to find a crack in his armor.

Lyan parried each attack with a kind of lazy grace, his sword flashing through the air like a serpent. He was fast, faster than I had anticipated, and every time I thought I had an opening, he countered with a fluid, almost animalistic movement. His tail lashed out again, this time aiming for my legs, but I sidestepped, bringing my sword down in a quick, downward slash toward his head.

He deflected it easily, his dark eyes narrowing as he readied his next strike.

This time, he was on the offensive.

His sword came at me with brutal force, each strike heavier than the last. I blocked the first, parried the second, but the third caught me off guard. The sheer weight behind it forced me back a step, my boots skidding across the floor. Lyan pressed the attack, his sword a whirlwind of demonic energy as it cut through the air.

I ducked beneath one swing, feeling the heat of his blade pass just inches above my head, then twisted, using my momentum to bring both my swords up in a cross-slash aimed at his side.

Lyan blocked one sword with his own, but the second blade grazed his arm, leaving a thin line of blood in its wake. He hissed, his eyes flashing with irritation, and retaliated with a quick, brutal swing of his tail. I barely had time to react, twisting to avoid the blow, but the tip of his tail caught my shoulder, sending a sharp jolt of pain through my body.

I stumbled back, gritting my teeth as the pain radiated down my arm. Lyan smirked, his eyes gleaming with dark amusement. "I see you're not invincible after all," he said, his voice taunting.

I ignored the jab, focusing on the fight. The pain in my shoulder was nothing—just another obstacle to overcome. I'd fought through worse. Much worse.

I flicked my wrist, reinforcing myself with another burst of dark magic. The shadows at my feet seemed to pulse with life, wrapping around me like a second skin, enhancing my speed and strength. I launched myself at him again, my movements faster now, sharper. My blades danced through the air, striking with a precision that would have overwhelmed most opponents.n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

But Lyan wasn't most opponents.

He met me blow for blow, his movements fluid and instinctual. Every strike I landed, he countered with one of his own, our swords clashing with a ferocity that sent sparks flying through the air. I could feel the weight of his demonic energy pressing against me, trying to wear me down, but I didn't falter. I couldn't afford to.

Behind us, I heard the platinum-blonde princess laugh softly, her voice carrying a note of amusement. "I wonder which of them will tire first," she mused, her tone light, as if this deadly battle was nothing more than entertainment for her.

Aurelia, standing with her arms crossed, smirked. "Dravis never tires," she said, her red eyes gleaming with excitement. "He's focused. I've never seen him like this before."

The battle between Lyan and me raged on, neither of us giving an inch. I could feel the fatigue creeping into my muscles, but I pushed it aside, focusing on each strike, each parry, each movement. My mind worked at lightning speed, calculating every angle, every possible outcome.

Lyan moved with a kind of wild grace, his sword flashing through the air in a blur of motion. His tail lashed out again, aiming for my legs, but I blocked it with one sword, then spun, bringing my other blade down in a vicious arc toward his shoulder. He ducked, his body twisting with unnatural agility, and retaliated with a powerful upward slash that I barely managed to deflect.

The force of the blow sent me skidding back a few feet, my boots scraping against the marble floor. I narrowed my eyes, watching as Lyan straightened, his dark energy crackling around him like a storm. He was good—better than I had anticipated. But I wasn't done yet.

I flickered into the shadows again, disappearing from his sight for just a moment, then reappeared behind him, my swords aimed at his back. Lyan spun, his sword meeting mine in a shower of sparks. I pressed forward, my strikes coming faster now, more relentless. I wasn't giving him time to think, to plan. I was forcing him to react.

For a moment, I thought I had him. I saw a brief opening, a slight hesitation in his movements, and I lunged, aiming for his exposed side. But Lyan was faster. His tail whipped toward me, and I barely had time to block it with my sword. The impact jarred my arm, but I didn't stop.

I twisted, my body moving with a precision that came from years of training, and brought both swords down in a cross-slash aimed at his chest.

Lyan blocked the first sword, but the second blade cut across his torso, leaving a deep gash in its wake. He hissed in pain, his eyes flashing with anger, and retaliated with a burst of demonic energy that sent me flying back. I hit the ground hard, my body skidding across the marble floor.

Before I could get back on my feet, Lyan was on me, his sword raised high, ready to deliver the final blow. But I wasn't out of the fight yet.

I flicked my wrist, sending a pulse of dark magic toward him. The shadows at my feet sprang to life, wrapping around his legs and pulling him off balance. Lyan staggered, his sword faltering for just a moment, and I took the opportunity to roll to my feet, my swords at the ready.

We clashed again, our blades ringing out with a fury that echoed through the chamber. I could feel the weight of his demonic energy pressing down on me, but I pushed back with everything I had. My dark magic pulsed through my veins, enhancing my speed, my strength, my focus. This wasn't just a fight anymore—it was a test of willpower, of endurance.

And I wasn't about to lose.

Our swords met again, the force of the impact sending a shockwave through the room. I could feel the fatigue creeping into my muscles, but I ignored it, pushing myself harder, faster. Lyan's strikes were powerful, but I was faster, more precise. I could see the frustration building in his eyes, the anger simmering beneath the surface.

He slashed at me with his sword, but I ducked, spinning around him and bringing both my blades down in a vicious arc. Lyan blocked one, but the other cut across his arm, drawing blood. He hissed in pain, but didn't falter. His tail lashed out again, and I barely managed to dodge the blow.

The battle was becoming more intense with each passing moment. I could feel the tension in the air, the weight of the magic swirling around us. Lyan's demonic energy crackled like lightning, while my dark magic pulsed in response, the two forces clashing in a chaotic dance.

"As expected, I don't like you," Lyan growled, his voice low, dangerous. His eyes were locked onto mine, filled with a dark intensity.

"The feeling's mutual, there's no need to say it twice," I replied coldly, my swords at the ready.

We lunged at each other once more, our blades crashing together in a violent display of power. The force of the impact sent a shockwave through the room, cracks forming in the marble beneath our feet. I could feel the strain in my muscles, the fatigue creeping in, but I pushed it aside, focusing on the fight.

From behind us, I heard the platinum-blonde princess mutter something under her breath, her voice tinged with a hint of concern. "Isn't this getting dangerous?"

Aurelia's voice followed, her usual confidence tinged with something else. "Yeah… maybe we should stop them before they tear this place apart."