"Please..." Leonardo muttered, his voice barely a whisper as he staggered back. This time was different.

  Unlike the countless scuffles he'd had in Ghent, this one left him pierced, not just cut or scratched, not being almost killed, which in a sense is still bad.

  Adelaide paused, her hand raised high for another strike. This one was aimed directly at his face. The next hit would kill him.

  Leonardo's mind raced, frantically searching for something—anything—he could exploit to survive. But there was nothing.

  Trying to use Adelaide's mental instability against her was off the table; that came with more cons than pros. And he wasn't ready to gamble with her unstable emotions.

  "Leonardo," she said with a soft, sinister tone, "would you like to say something before—"

  Wham!

  Leonardo slammed his hilt into her side with all his strength. The surprise hit bought him a few precious seconds. Without hesitation, he scrambled to his feet, though he limped heavily, blood now flowing freely from the wound in his thigh.

  "The reduced sensitivity doesn't even work well!" he cursed through gritted teeth.

  His best shot now was to make it to the other side of the mansion, where Anna and Elara were sleeping.

  They had to be there. The only thing that kept him moving was the memory of Anna experimenting with his attachment skill an hr ago. She had managed to give him the effect of reduced pain sensitivity, but it was far from perfect. Right now, he felt every ounce of agony.

  He stumbled through the hallway, his speed hindered by his injury. The corridor seemed to stretch on endlessly, mocking him with every step.

  "I told you not to run," Adelaide's voice echoed from the room he had just escaped. Her words slithered through the air like smoke, heavy with promise. The oppressive heat she exuded followed her, radiating through the building with alarming intensity.

  Leonardo's eyes darted around as he spotted the staircase in the middle of the hall. His instincts screamed at him to make a dash for it.

  "How much energy does using your attachment skill take!" Leonardo pondered as he ran. Elara only after a few barriers was already exhuasted beyond belief.

  Ascendants must be immune to the usual limits of Rasvian energy, maybe of how useless the manifestation is,

  "Perfect defense, my boot," he muttered angrily as he forced his wounded leg up the stairs. His trousers were already soaked in blood, the oozing red reminding him how little time he had.

  "I'm scared of this woman," Leonardo thought, heart pounding, the pyramids, all the shapes and sizes, their variations etched in his mind thanks to the fear. If Adelaide had charged up that blast for just another second, his leg wouldn't have been usable at all.

  She continued to come at him. There was no other explanation for her sustained, brutal attacks. And the worst part? Her skill wasn't even that impressive on the surface.

  He reached the top of the staircase, panting heavily. It opened up into a large, almost eerily empty room. The attic.

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  "There has to be more doors..." Leonardo's mind whirred as he scanned the space. He used his good hand to grip the bannister and pull himself forward, trying to gain even a momentary advantage.

  He heard a shot and turned slightly, just in time to see Adelaide walking up the stairs with that cursed sword of hers glowing in her hand.

  "Why the sword?! he spat, staggering forward, as a blast struck his hand. He collapsed to the ground, groaning in pain. The heat from her blade was unbearable, even at a distance.

  The sword radiated power like it had been forged and left to smolder at maximum intensity without ever cooling.

  "Why do you run, Leonardo?" she called after him, taking her time as she ascended. "I don't enjoy chasing you."

  "Neither do I," Leonardo retorted sharply, cutting her off mid-sentence.

  Summoning the last of his strength, Leonardo pulled himself to his feet once more. His eyes locked onto a window at the far end of the room, directly across from the staircase. If he could just reach it...

  But he couldn't. He wasn't fast enough. Even with his mind rushing to calculate every possible variable, the odds were clear—he wouldn't make it.

  He cursed under his breath and made the only decision that made sense.

  Sword time. With his only functional leg, he charged the window, gripping his blade tightly. He aimed at the glass and swung with all the force he could muster.

  The tip of the sword connected, shattering the window in an explosion of floating shards.

  But before he could break through, he felt a rough pull at his collar.

  Adelaide had him. She yanked him back with ease, sending shards of glass flying around them as they fell to the ground. She held him like a rag doll, his weight seemingly no issue for her.

  "Leonardo..." she cooed, moving the hair out of her face. "I don't know what your plan was it's useless, but let me tell you something. Skills are everything in this world. Say it with me: everything."

  She paused, her lips curving into a thoughtful smile. "Well, maybe not everything. I don't like to consider those people in the conversation." Her voice was distant, detached, as if she were indulging in some private joke.

  Her sword was still glowing, raised slowly, deliberately. She was enjoying this. The way her red hair floated around her like a river of fire, her gown—a strange, almost beautiful a noblewoman's dress but a warrior wearing them.

  The blade she held shimmered with decorated jewels, and its heat warped the air around it. It was as if the sword had become an extension of her arm, the two inseparable.

  Leonardo's mind was in overdrive. Think . he thought. Every fiber of his being screamed to get away from this woman, in the after life after he dies, he'll be safe until then.

  "My sword..." he muttered weakly.

  "Your sword?" Adelaide repeats confused. "Compared to mine, it's a feeble thing." Her tone dripped with condescension, and her eyes gleamed with excitement.

  As he glanced down at the ground below, Leonardo tried to look though his gaze was a bit obscured.

  No servants, no staff, no sign of life. The entire estate was eerily silent, as though the very walls held their breath.

  His thoughts were cut off by the sight of a woman walking past, her eyes glued to a phone as if the world around her didn't matter. She looked like a servant, or maybe an assistant.

  he couldn't see anything more than her Portrait and the phone in her hand.

  In a moment of desperation, Leonardo acted. "Don't translate." He said towards the text.

  Adelaide was too distracted, too focused on her rant to anticipate his move. When both her hands were preoccupied—one with his weight and the other with her sword—he saw his chance.

  "Thou wost wel, I drede thee ful sore... truly, thou art the first. Yet I trowe... I wolde nat deyen as now," Leonardo murmured in old Medieval English, trying to confuse her. His words were rushed and laced with fear.

  "What?" Adelaide blinked, thrown off for just a moment. "That sounds like something Eadric would say—"

  Wham!

  Leonardo swung his hilt up and smashed it into her jaw with every ounce of strength he had left. Adelaide dropped him instantly, her grip loosening as she reeled back in shock, clutching her jaw.

  "That hurt, the second time today, you know," she said, wincing as her hand touched the swelling bruise on her face. Her voice had lost some of its playfulness.

  Leonardo didn't wait. He jumped through the shattered window, feeling the sting of glass cutting into his skin as he leaped out into the air.

  The wind hit him like a freight train, and for a moment, everything was weightless. He fell, twisting in the air as the courtyard below rushed up to meet him.

  And the ground came hard.