The clash between the two female soldiers continued.
Steel rang again and again across the arena as the two warriors refused to yield.
One of them was Fredda.
Her beautiful blonde hair, once tied neatly behind her head, had come loose during the long battle.
Strands clung to her face, now matted with blood at the edges where small cuts had opened along her brow.
Yet her blue eyes remained sharp.
Opposite her stood Aldera.
Her chocolate brown hair, originally tied into a tight bun, had loosened during the struggle.
Now the bun sat crooked and lopsided, strands of hair sticking to her sweat-covered neck.
But her grip on the spear never weakened.
The two women circled each other again.
Fredda moved first.
Her sword flashed forward in a swift horizontal strike.
CLANG!
Aldera's spear shaft blocked the blade, the impact sending vibrations through both of their arms.
Fredda stepped back and immediately followed with another strike.
Aldera countered with a quick thrust.
Fredda twisted her body aside just in time, the spear tip grazing her shoulder and drawing another thin line of blood.
Gasps rose from the crowd.
But Fredda only smiled.
"Not bad."
Aldera gave a short breath of laughter.
"You too."
They attacked again.
The fight had already lasted far longer than the others.
Across the arena, the other nine duels had already ended.
Victorious warriors stood beside their stages, watching the last battle with interest.
The crowd remained just as loud as before.
Every strike drew cheers.
Every near fall brought gasps.
Even the nobles leaned forward in their seats.
Time passed.
Ten minutes.
Fifteen.
Twenty.
Still neither woman fell.
Both were breathing heavily now, sweat and blood covering their armor.
But their eyes burned with fierce determination.
Fredda lunged again.
Aldera spun her spear and forced her back.
Then Aldera counterattacked, pushing Fredda toward the edge of the stage.
Fredda planted her foot and pushed forward again.
The battle dragged on for another half hour.
Finally—
General Dracona raised his hand.
"Enough!"
His voice boomed across the arena.
The bell rang.
CLANG!
Both warriors froze.
Their weapons lowered slowly as they turned toward the general.
General Dracona stepped onto the stage and looked at them both.
"You have fought long enough."
He paused before continuing.
"It is clear that your strength is equal."
"And your wills are strong."
He turned toward the royal pavilion.
The Emperor slowly rose from his seat.
The entire arena fell silent.
Emperor Albeit Aragon looked down at the two exhausted soldiers.
His voice carried across the arena.
"It is clear that your strength is on par."
"And your wills are strong."
He paused, allowing his words to sink in.
"Therefore…"
"After you are knighted today…"
"You will serve as special guards to my niece…"
"Princess Keyla Aragon."
Murmurs rippled through the crowd.
The Emperor finished calmly.
"Now go and heal your wounds."
"Rest before your knighting ceremony."
Fredda and Aldera looked at each other for a brief moment.
Then they both bowed deeply toward the Emperor.
"Yes, Your Majesty."
Their legs were weak from the long battle.
Without a word, they supported each other as they stepped down from the stage.
The crowd applauded loudly as they walked toward the healers.
After some time, the twenty warriors returned from the healing tents.
Their wounds had been cleaned and bandaged.
Fresh uniforms had been given to them for the ceremony.
Fredda and Aldera walked together again, now far steadier on their feet.
When they approached the royal seating area, they finally saw clearly the person they had been assigned to guard.
Princess Keyla Aragon.
Both women paused slightly.
They were surprised.
She's… our age.
Keyla looked no older than them.
She stood calmly beside General Don, her leather outfit fitted for combat, a sword resting across her chest.
Her expression was calm and composed.
Not like a delicate noble lady.
Fredda and Aldera stepped forward.
They bowed respectfully.
"Princess Keyla."
Keyla simply gave a small nod in response.
"Welcome."
Her voice was calm and direct.
No extra politeness.
No unnecessary warmth.
The two women exchanged a quick glance.
Then they moved to stand behind her, taking their positions as her guards.
As they stood there quietly observing her, the same thought formed in both their minds.
She feels… familiar.
Not like a noble lady.
Not like someone to be protected.
But rather—
Like a senior soldier in a training camp.
Calm.
Cold.
Disciplined.
Someone who looked as if she had trained harder than everyone else.
Fredda's lips curved slightly.
Aldera gave the faintest smile.
They had a feeling that serving under Princess Keyla Aragon would be far from boring. ⚔️