The Second Chance Of The Rejected Moon (Celine and Bastian) novel Chapter 195

The Second Chance Of The Rejected Moon

Chapter 195

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I have no time to answer. I lunge at him, and the warm air in the room hits my face as my feet slide across the stone. Sweat is already beginning to gather at the back of my neck, and a few strands of my hair have come loose from the braid, sticking to my temples.

Zharzel blocks my first strike with Helel, and the clash of the blades sends a sharp vibration through me and all the way to my shoulders. The force of the impact makes my wrist tremble, but I don’t retreat. I twist the sword and attack again before he can fully recover his position. My second strike manages to knock his blade aside, and I take advantage of the opening to spin around and bring Erebus directly toward his neck.

Zharzel ducks at the last instant. The tip of my sword cuts through the air above his head, and he rolls across the floor with an agility that doesn’t seem natural. He gets back to his feet behind me in a single movement, and I feel his presence before I see him. I turn just as Helel comes down toward my head, and I raise Erebus above me. The two blades collide with brutal force.

The impact makes my arms tremble, and a current of energy travels through my hands to my shoulders. For a second, the swords seem to resist each other. Erebus vibrates violently, and a dark shadow slides along its blade, while Helel’s glow intensifies until it illuminates Zharzel’s face.

He grits his teeth, and I do the same. Zharzel presses with all his strength, trying to force me backward, but I plant my feet on the ground and hold the attack. I can see the sweat beginning to slide from his forehead to his temple, disappearing among a few strands of dark hair that have come loose from the ponytail he made before we started fighting. His breathing has also become heavier, although the smile that slowly appears on his lips shows that he is enjoying every second.

“Now you’re finally fighting like a warrior.”

“And you talk too much.”

I push with force and manage to knock him away. Zharzel retreats several steps, his boots dragging across the stone, but he regains his balance almost immediately. I don’t give him time to react. I move after him and launch another strike. Helel gets in the way, and the blades meet again. The metallic sound should wake Oana, but the green barrier surrounding her remains intact, completely isolating her from our fight. I can see her out of the corner of my eye, sleeping peacefully while we turn the room into a battlefield.

Zharzel tries to strike me in the side. I twist my body and let the blade pass beside me. The movement makes me feel the heat of Helel graze my clothes, and I respond with a direct attack toward his shoulder. He manages to deflect it, but this time I use the momentum to my advantage. I spin on my own axis, lower my center of gravity, and strike from below. Zharzel jumps backward and barely touches the ground before I lunge at him again.

This time there is no space between us.

The strikes come one after another with brutal speed. One blade meets the other again and again, and every clash produces flashes that illuminate our faces for fractions of a second. The heat in the room seems to have increased, and the air becomes heavy inside my lungs. My chest rises and falls rapidly, but I don’t feel tired. I only feel strength. My muscles respond to every movement, and my body seems to remember a way of fighting that I never consciously learned.

Erebus becomes lighter with every strike.

I no longer feel its weight.

I don’t need to think about where I should move it either. My hand turns on instinct, my body follows every movement, and the sword seems to anticipate my intentions. Every time Helel comes near, Erebus responds before I can decide to do it. It is as if both weapons recognize each other and, at the same time, are fighting through us.

Zharzel feels it too.

His expression changes for an instant when our blades meet again. His eyes widen slightly, and his smile disappears before

MOIN Aug

The Second Chance Of The Rejected Moon

returning.

t’s new.”

I don’t answer.

I can’t.

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Zharzel jumps backward to gain some distance, and I run after him. He launches himself upward and uses one of the wooden structures to change direction in midair. I follow him without thinking. I plant one foot against the wall, use the momentum to propel myself upward, and spin in the air.

For a second, everything disappears beneath me. There is only Zharzel’s body, the glow of Helel, and the weight of Erebus in my hand.

I land behind him.

Zharzel turns immediately. His expression changes when he finds me so close, and for a fraction of a second, I think I finally managed to surprise him. Erebus stops inches from his throat, but before I can do anything, Zharzel reacts. His body moves with a speed I can barely follow, and instead of remaining still in front of my sword, he twists his wrist, knocks the blade aside with Helel, and forces me to retreat. The movement is so fast that I almost lose my balance. I recover my stance and raise Erebus again, but he is already smiling.

“Almost,” he says.

“Almost what?”

“You almost surprised me.”

“The sword was inches from your throat.”

“And yet I still have a throat.”

I frown.

“You’re insufferable.”

“You already told me that.”

He lunges at me again, and I barely manage to block him. The impact makes my arms tremble, and I have to retreat several steps. I try to attack him from the side, but Zharzel deflects the blow with insulting ease and makes me spin around. When I manage to regain my position, Helel meets Erebus again.

We remain motionless for a moment, the two swords locked between us.

The air seems to regain its silence all at once. I can only hear our labored breathing and the distant crackling of the fire behind the barrier protecting Oana. A bead of sweat runs down my temple and disappears along my jaw.

My chest continues to rise and fall heavily as I try to catch my breath. In front of me, Zharzel is also breathing heavily. His hair is disheveled, several strands stuck to his forehead, and there is a small red mark on his cheek where my sword passed too close.

Helel remains lowered at his side.

His eyes meet mine, and slowly, a smile appears on his face.

“You’re definitely not the same little wolf I met that morning in the pack.”

I slowly lower Erebus, though I don’t take my eyes off him.

13 Mon, Aug 31.

The Second Chance Of The Rejected Moon

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