Chapitre 21: Chapter 21 Duel with Deamon Targaryen
The air crackled with tension as the two Targaryen's faced each other. Valarissa Targaryen, her long silver hair streaming in the wind, stood tall, her purplish eyes fixed on her uncle, Deamon. He stood before her, his sword at the ready, his expression a mix of anger and determination.
"Uncle," Valarissa's voice was firm but edged with a tremor, "are you sure about this?"
Deamon's jaw clenched. "Have I a choice? I won't let you throw your life away, not on my watch. Let go of this madness, Valarissa."
Her face hardened in resolve. "As you wish."
Suddenly, the air crackled with anticipation. With a graceful twirl, Valarissa unsheathed two gleaming daggers, their polished hilts glinting in the faint light. Deamon responded with a sigh and a draw of his blade, a heavy longsword that promised lethal grace.
They charged, a dance of silver and steel erupting between them. Valarissa, honed by years of Kalaripayattu training, darted like a hummingbird, her daggers weaving a shimmering net around Deamon's broadsword. He, in turn, countered with measured precision, each clang of metal echoing through the cavern.
Sweat beaded on their brows, stinging their eyes, but neither faltered. They moved as one, yet adversaries, each step a desperate push for control. Every parry, every lunge, held the weight of their love, their fear, their unyielding wills. While Valarissa fought with superior skills, Deamon who had faced many war and seen blood was fighting back with how own skills and experience.
Valarissa's eyes flared as the blade lunged toward her. Instinctively, she brought her dagger up, deflecting the strike with a jolt of adrenaline. A desperate hope burned within her, and with gritted teeth, she lunged forward, aiming her other dagger to intercept the sword's path.
Deamon, caught off guard by her sudden aggression, cursed inwardly. He knew that even if the blade wouldn't pierce him, the impact would sting like hell. He cursed his own carelessness, having underestimated his niece's ferocity.
For a fraction of a heartbeat, the world seemed to slow down. Valarissa's dagger, poised with deadly intent, hung in the air before his eyes. Deamon's sword mirrored its stillness, the tip hovering mere inches from his ribcage. The tension crackled in the air, thick and heavy.
Suddenly, Deamon reacted. With a Herculean effort, he twisted his body, using his momentum and powerful legs to propel himself backward. The dagger, inches from its mark, brushed against his clothing, leaving a faint red mark on his skin. He let out a grunt, more from annoyance than pain, and wasted no time in retaliating. His sword whipped through the air, a silver blur aimed at Valarissa.
But Valarissa, no novice herself, had anticipated the counter. The moment her attack missed, she was already in motion, a phantom dancing away from the oncoming blade. The clang of swords echoed through the cavern as their dance became a blur of silver and steel, each move carefully measured.
In a swift exchange, the two combatants moved with impressive speed, creating a considerable distance between them. Despite Deamon's greater strength and speed, he found himself astonished by Valarissa's superior skills and techniques.
Witnessing Valarissa as more than a mere child, Deamon now regarded her as an equal—a formidable knight. Determined to overcome her, he circled, searching for an opening. Valarissa, always graceful and agile, kept him in her sight, securing all sides.
Tension crackled in the air as they circled, weapons flashing in the dim torchlight. Deamon's sword aimed for a slight opening, but Valarissa, anticipating the move, blocked with precision. However, she realized the strength behind the blow, acknowledging her uncle's seriousness. In the competition of strength and experience, she felt the vast gap between them.
Retreating, she skillfully evaded and blocked Deamon's onslaught. Then, seizing a momentary opportunity, she leaned down, rolled to the ground, and emerged behind him. Lunging with both daggers, she aimed for his sword, using the backside of her dagger to smash the sword away from Deamon's grip.
Valarissa didn't give up. She dropped one dagger and used her legs and arms to twist her uncle into an awkward position, using his own weight against him. Then, she slammed the fallen Deamon face-first into the ground, pinning his arms and legs. With the other dagger at his throat, she ended the fight.
"You lose uncle, so can we stop this unnecessary fight" Valarissa gasped, her daggers still pressing against him. Her breath was ragged, but her voice was firm. The deamon stared back, his face twisted in pain and anger. He knew he was beaten.
Deamon, pinned and defeated, gasped, "Who trained you? Your fighting is unlike anything I've seen."
Valarissa loosened her grip on the daggers. "He's far away, and even if I tell you, you wouldn't understand" she answered. "Will you stop hindering me now?"
Deamon glared, anger fighting with acceptance. "You've become a fierce warrior, Valarissa. No wonder you're so bold." He took a shaky breath. "But don't think this makes you invincible. This dragon is different. All who've faced it, all who sought its hoard, are dead. Even with your skill, you can't win." He closed his eyes, seemingly resigned to his fate.
Valarissa loosened hee gaurd against her uncle . But in a flash, Deamon lunged, aiming to catch her off guard. His attempt sputtered like a damp fire.
"Agh!" he roared, crashing to his knees. "What did you do?"
Valarissa smiled, a hint of mischief in her eyes. "Just a little something I learned. Your meridians are locked, no sudden movements or you'll pay the price. Take it easy for five minutes and you'll be fine."
She used this trick as she knew that the reason she won the fight was mostly due to her compact style that was too foreign for her uncle and secondly her in uncle wasn't striking with the intention to kill and if she were to allow her uncle another chance, he may be able to deafeat her.
Wasting no time, with her two dagger back with her , Valarissa turned and left her defeated uncle behind.
Passing the Shep Stealer, a monster busy devouring the goat she gifted, she continued her exploration through Dragon Mount. Soon, she found herself at a narrow, winding tunnel. With no clue where the Cannibal lay, she could only tread forward, hoping fortune would guide her steps.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone