Chapter 190 — The Cage Called Freedom
In a dark alley of Fort Westmarch.
The battle outside shook the walls of the city, but here—
only shadows moved.
Selvara lead Ivaline here.
And the battle begun.
A flash of metal cut through the darkness.
WHIRRR!
A chakram spun through the narrow alley.
Straight.
Then suddenly—
Curve.
Above.
Slash.
Jab.
Strike.
The spinning blade ricocheted off the stone wall and shot toward Ivaline from an impossible angle.
Clang!
Her sword intercepted it at the last instant.
Another chakram came from the opposite direction.
CLANG!
And a third—
THUD!
The blade struck the ground where her ankle had been only a moment earlier.
Selvara stepped from the shadow of the wall, her body half-blended with the darkness.
The chameleon assassin.
A beastwoman trained for silent killing.
Her physical strength alone was already superior to most humans.
And Ivaline—
Was only fourteen.
The difference in raw power was obvious.
Selvara’s tail lashed through the air.
WHIP!
Ivaline raised her sword to block.
CRACK!
The force threw her several steps backward.
Selvara didn’t chase immediately.
Instead—
She vanished.
The assassin’s ability bent the light around her body.
Her form melted into the surroundings.
The alley became still again.
Then—
A faint shift.
A slight disturbance in the air.
To others it would be invisible.
But Ivaline’s eyes sharpened.
Her [Perception] skill caught everything.
Air flow.
Footsteps.
The subtle shift of wind when something moved through space.
She stepped aside—
Just as a chakram flew past her cheek.
WHRRR!
The blade slammed into the wall and bounced.
Another followed instantly.
Then a third.
The attack pattern was relentless.
Selvara controlled three chakrams simultaneously.
Two in her hands.
And one controlled by the flexible strength of her tail.
The third blade moved like a living weapon.
It spun around pillars.
Bounced off wooden benches.
Struck from blind spots.
Even attacked from above after ricocheting from the roof beams.
Yet—
CLANG!
CLANG!
CLANG!
Ivaline blocked them.
Not with strength.
But precision.
Her swordsmanship had evolved during her duel with Vaelis.
Where she once fought with instinct—
Now she fought with calculation.
Each deflection used the least possible strength.
Each counter was aimed with surgical accuracy.
When Selvara stepped forward to close the distance—
Ivaline moved first.
“Gale Impact!”
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BOOM!
A violent burst of wind exploded from her sword.
Selvara was forced backward as the blast disrupted her footing.
The assassin twisted midair, landing gracefully on the wall of the alley like a lizard clinging to stone.
Her tail hooked around a wooden beam.
Now she hung upside down above Ivaline.
A chakram dropped from the darkness.
SHING!
Ivaline stepped forward instead of back.
Her blade flashed.
“Wind Cutter!”
A crescent of compressed wind shot upward.
CRASH!
The beam above Selvara split apart.
The assassin released her grip instantly and flipped backward onto the roof.
Selvara crouched there silently.
Watching.
Studying.
Below her stood the silver-haired swordswoman.
Half-elf.
Young.
Small.
But terrifyingly composed.
Her silver hair fluttered gently in the wind.
One sapphire eye and one ash-grey eye watched calmly.
Both burned with quiet determination.
In her hands—
A sword forged from Harlund craftmanship.
Layered with elven magic reinforce.
And powered by the mana of her wife—
Seraphine.
The wind around the blade whispered softly.
Selvara exhaled quietly.
“…You really are troublesome.”
She dropped from the roof.
Landing ten meters away.
Three chakrams floated in her hands and tail once more.
“I truly don’t want to kill you.”
Her voice was honest.
“General Silva gave the order personally.”
The air between them became colder.
“An order I cannot refuse.”
Ivaline said nothing.
Her stance remained steady.
Sword forward.
Eyes locked.
Waiting.
Watching.
Selvara sighed softly.
“…Right.”
“Of course you won’t run.”
“You never ran.”
She recalls her story from the past.
The girl who stands against the world.
Her body slowly began to blur again.
Light bent.
Color shifted.
The assassin started to fade into the environment.
But this time—
Not completely.
Three silhouettes appeared instead.
One on the roof.
One on the wall.
One directly ahead.
Mirages.
Her trump card.
Selvara’s voice echoed from nowhere.
“Let’s see how far your eyes can truly see…”
Nine chakrams began spinning at once.
Six were illusions.
Three were real.
Nasty.
The alley filled with the sound of whirling blades.
And then—
All three Selvaras attacked simultaneously.
“…..”
Ivaline steadied herself.
She let her body follow her heart.
Her perception divided truth from lies.
A fake chakram ran past her body.
Clang!
She deflected the real one.
She bent low to dodge another.
And readied her sword.
CLANG!
“Impressive,” Selvara said as she appeared again.
“If you’re this strong at this age… how far could you go if you lived?”
Her face curved into a smile as she hunted her target.
She continued her pursuit and struck relentlessly.
“You know, little Ivaline… I truly enjoyed our time together.”
“…..”
“The stories of your past.”
“The time we shared roasted corn together.”
“The time you patted my head.”
“I enjoyed it all.”
“…..”
“But… the General freed me from my cage.”
“Now I have freedom inside his vast cage.”
THUD!
Her tail whipped into Ivaline’s side.
Ivaline guarded it in time with her sword, but the force still knocked her off balance and sent her rolling across the ground.
Selvara leapt in.
Ivaline didn’t roll or dodge.
She simply stood up slowly.
An illusion jumped at her and passed straight through.
Her sword stabbed into nothingness—
And the air shifted.
Selvara emerged from the blank air with a smile.
A red line streaked across her cheek.
Blood slowly dripped down.
“By normal standards, a silver-rank adventurer would already be dead from my technique.”
“Yet you still stand?”
“Then… maybe I’m above the standard.”
“I guess so.”
Selvara leapt back to dodge her slash and resumed her stance.
“Sigh… now I must end this, or I might not escape.”
“You said something about freedom,” Ivaline said quietly.
“That’s right.”
“You talked about a big cage.”
“Hmm.”
“How can you call that freedom… when you’re still in a cage?”
“…..”
“…Selvara?”
“What is it, little Ivaline?”
“Have you ever considered opening that cage… and stepping out?”
Selvara stared at her.
For a moment the alley was silent except for the distant thunder of battle beyond the walls of Fort Westmarch.
Then—
She laughed.
Not a small laugh.
A sharp, breathless burst that echoed off the stone walls.
“Open the cage?” she repeated.
Her shoulders shook as the laughter grew louder.
“You… really are a child.”
The three illusions flickered and vanished as she wiped a hand across her face.
“You think it’s that simple?”
Her tail flicked once behind her.
“I was born in a cage, little Ivaline.”
Her voice lost some of its playful tone.
“I was trained in one.”
“Raised in one.”
“Every breath I took belonged to someone else.”
Her eyes hardened.
“Then General Silva killed the man who owned me.”
She lifted one chakram slowly.
“And he gave me a choice.”
Her smile returned.
“Serve him.”
“Or die.”
The spinning blades resumed their motion around her fingers.
“He gave me freedom.”
She spread her arms slightly.
“A bigger cage, maybe.”
“But still freedom.”
Her gaze sharpened.
“And I repay my debts.”
She lowered her stance.
“So no, little Ivaline.”
Her voice softened.
“I cannot step out.”
“I have no choice.”
Ivaline didn’t move.
Her sword remained steady.
Her eyes watched Selvara quietly.
Then she spoke.
“If your logic is right…”
Selvara tilted her head slightly.
“…why are you crying?”
Silence.
Selvara blinked.
“…What?”
Instinctively she lifted a hand to her cheek.
Her fingers touched something warm.
Wet.
She stared at the moisture on her fingertips.
Blood?
No.
Tears.
Her brows furrowed.
“…Huh?”
She touched her face again.
Another tear slid down.
Then another.
Her expression twisted in confusion.
“…Why…?”
Her voice trembled slightly.
“I’m…”
She wiped her cheek again.
“I’m not sad.”
Another tear fell.
“…Am I?”
For the first time since the battle began—
Selvara looked lost.
The moment stretched.
Then her eyes hardened.
“…No.”
Her lips curled into a sharp grin.
“Doesn’t matter.”
Nine chakrams spun violently around her.
The air screamed with their speed.
“Enough talk!”
Her body vanished.
A blur of motion.
Illusions exploded across the alley again.
Three Selvaras rushed forward.
Nine blades screamed through the air.
The final rush.
Her hand trembling before throwing the chakram.
WHIRRR—
CLANG!
Ivaline’s sword moved.
Not fast.
Not powerful.
Just—
Precise.
One blade deflected.
Another slipped past her shoulder.
She turned.
A third struck the ground behind her.
Selvara appeared from the blind spot.
Tail strike.
Hand slash.
Chakram arc.
A storm of killing blows.
CLANG!
CLANG!
CLANG!
Ivaline retreated one step.
Then another.
Her body moved like wind through narrow gaps.
A tail strike cracked against her guard.
CRACK!
The force slid her foot across the stone.
Selvara pressed in.
Faster.
Harder.
Desperate.
“You should have run!”
CLANG!
“You should have lived!”
CLANG!
“You stupid child!”
Her final strike came straight for Ivaline’s throat.
And that was the moment—
Ivaline moved forward.
Not back.
Forward.
Her sword slid along Selvara’s chakram.
Steel guiding steel.
The assassin’s guard opened for a single instant.
Ivaline’s blade flashed.
SHHHK—
The cut was clean.
From shoulder—
Diagonally across her torso—
Down to the waist.
Selvara froze.
Her chakrams clattered against the stone.
CLANG… CLANG… CLANG…
She staggered once.
Then collapsed onto her back.
THUD.
Blood slowly spread beneath her.
But the strike had been controlled.
Painful.
Disabling.
Not fatal.
Selvara stared up at the narrow strip of clear sky above the alley.
Then she began laughing again.
A weak, breathless laugh.
“Hah…”
“Hahaha…”
“You… really…”
Her chest rose slowly.
“…are ridiculous.”
Her eyes shifted toward Ivaline.
“Finish it.”
She spoke simply.
“Before someone else finds us.”
Ivaline stood over her.
For a moment.
Then—
She sheathed her sword.
Click.
Selvara blinked.
“…What?”
Ivaline lowered herself and sat beside her.
The silver-haired girl reached out.
And gently patted Selvara’s head.
Softly.
Like calming a child.
“…Talk,” Ivaline said quietly.
“I’ll listen.”
Selvara stared at her.
Her lips trembled.
Then she laughed again.
But this time the laughter broke into sobs.
“You…”
“…You foolish girl.”
Her voice cracked.
“You really are stupid…”
More tears streamed down her face.
Her body shook as she cried.
Yet a smile remained on her lips.
“…Stupid…”
Slowly—
Her eyes closed.
Not in death.
Just exhaustion.
And grief long buried.
Ivaline continued to pat her head calmly.
The wind moved softly through the narrow alley.
For the first time that day—
The assassin stopped fighting.
