Saving The Monster Race Starts With Breeding The Elf Village

Boom!

The ball didn’t explode with fire or destruction.

But with a sudden, hissing plume of thick fog that burst outward in every direction, completely enveloping her sword in an obscuring cloud of white vapor.

”What the—!”

”Where did the fog come from?!”

The crowd gasped. It happened so fast, that no one could even process what they were seeing.

Luca’s eyes narrowed. One moment, the descending blade had been perfectly visible, its trajectory clear as day.

The next moment, it had vanished completely into the fog. He couldn’t see where it was. Couldn’t track its position.

The entire approach had been swallowed by white.

But then—

Whoosh!

The the blade emerged from the mist—at a completely different angle than before!

If Luca had been an ordinary warrior, even a skilled one, that would have been the end of it.

But Luca was still Luca.

The instant he registered the changed angle, his body adjusted automatically, and he sidestepped with perfect timing, letting the sword slice past him through empty air.

Mavis, however, had expected this.

She didn’t pause. Didn’t hesitate. She immediately shifted her momentum, reversing the direction of her swing and bringing the blade back toward him in a vicious horizontal slash.

At the same time, her finger found the same button and pressed it twice in rapid succession.

Click! Click!

The two metal bands at the base of the blade clamped together with a sharp click.

Between those bands, Luca now noticed, rested a tiny crystal so small he hadn’t registered its presence before.

The moment the bands crushed it, the crystal released a high-pitched, ear-piercing screech that tore through the air like a physical force.

SKREEEEEEEE!

”Ahhh!” Luca’s instincts screamed at him to cover his ears.

The sound was overwhelming and painful. Behind him, he heard the other centaurs cry out in shock, their hands flying to their own ears as the noise assaulted them.

His body wanted to follow the same instinct. Every fiber of his being demanded he protect his hearing.

But he resisted.

Gritting his teeth against the agony, he dropped low, letting the horizontal slash pass over his head by mere inches.

The blade stirred his hair as it swept past. His ears rang with the aftermath of the screech, but he was still standing. Still untouched.

Mavis had felt the noise too—her own ears were undoubtedly ringing just as badly. But she didn’t seem to care. She simply gritted her teeth, her jaw tight with determination, and swung again.

This time, Luca was fully alert. Something strange was happening here. This wasn’t a normal sword fight.

It wasn’t even close!

She had multiple tricks built directly into her weapon, and she was deploying them with ruthless efficiency!

But he was prepared for whatever came next.

Or so he thought.

Mavis’s pinky found another button on the hilt. She pressed it.

Click!

The second orb, the one on the opposite side of the guard exploded!

But this one didn’t produce fog. It produced light.

SHING!

Pure, blinding, overwhelming light erupted from the orb like a miniature sun detonating between them.

”Ahhh! My eyes!”

”I can’t see! I can’t see!”

The entire area around both combatants turned stark white. Every shadow was obliterated. Every detail vanished into the blinding radiance.

The centaurs cried out, shielding their eyes. Even those standing at a distance felt the flash sear their vision.

Luca was also blinded.

He couldn’t see Mavis’s face. Couldn’t see her sword. Couldn’t see anything except endless, featureless white.

Mavis’s heart surged with hope. This time, surely. This time he couldn’t possibly—

Luca dodged anyway.

Even blind with his ears still ringing from the sonic attack, he somehow predicted the trajectory of her blade based on nothing but the faint whisper of displaced air and the memory of her body’s movements.

He stepped back, and her sword cut through empty space where his chest had been a heartbeat before.

’Dammit!’ Frustration boiled in Mavis’s chest.

She had thrown everything at him—fog, sound, light—trick after trick after trick. She had pushed him further than anyone else had managed.

And still, still, she couldn’t land a single blow!

But she wasn’t finished. Not even close.

Her eyes blazed with fierce resolve as she pulled back her sword and thrust it directly toward Luca’s chest.

Stab!

The motion was straightforward—a simple, committed stab aimed at his heart.

No tricks. No buttons. Just steel seeking flesh.

Luca, his senses finally clearing, tracked the incoming blade with practiced ease.

He took a step back, letting the tip of the sword fall short of its target by a comfortable margin.

For a brief moment, he was genuinely confused.

Had she run out of tricks?

Was this truly all she had left?

Then Mavis smirked.

Her thumb found a new button, one positioned near the base of her grip.

She pressed it.

SHING!

And the sword, which had been roughly three feet long, suddenly elongated!

The surrounding centaurs screamed in absolute, stunned horror.

”WHAT KIND OF SWORD IS THAT?!”

”IT EXTENDED?!”

”SHE BUILT A SPRING-LOADED BLADE?!”

The blade was coming for Luca’s chest. Retreat was impossible—he had already stepped back, and there was no time to move again.

Mavis’s heart soared. Finally. Finally, I have him—

Luca bent backward.

His body folded like paper, his spine curving in a maneuver that shouldn’t have been physically possible, dropping into a limbo so deep his back was nearly parallel with the ground.

The extended blade passed over him, scraping across the air where his chest had been an instant before, and found nothing but empty space.

Mavis’s jaw dropped. The other centaurs were equally stunned.

”What in the world...”

”How did he do that?!”

”Is he from the slime race?! Why is he so flexible?!”

They had watched attack after attack come from angles no one could have anticipated and each time they had thought,

’If it were me, I would have been hit.’

’I would have lost right there.’

The sheer creativity of Mavis’s assault was unlike anything they had ever witnessed in a duel.

And yet Luca had evaded every single one!

Mavis, however, refused to surrender.

She had one final card to play. The trump card she had hoped she wouldn’t need—but had prepared nonetheless.

She pulled back her sword. Raised it high above her head. The same opening stance she had used at the beginning.

And she swung down with all her strength.

Slice!

Luca, seeing the familiar repeat of her opening move, prepared to parry it easily.

He raised his blade-arm, already predicting where her sword would land.

And that was exactly what she was counting on.

At the absolute peak of the swing and the exact moment when Luca’s guard was fully committed to blocking the incoming blade, Mavis clicked another button on her hilt.

And the very same blade that had been attached so securely to the hilt—came loose!

But it didn’t droop or fall.

It launched—propelled by some mechanism hidden in that oversized hilt—flying toward Luca like an axe thrown by an invisible hand!

”SHE LAUNCHED THE BLADE?!”

”IS THIS SUPPOSED TO BE A SWORDFIGHT?!”

Gasps erupted from the crowd. She had literally dismantled her own weapon mid-swing and sent the blade flying at her opponent.

Luca saw it coming. Of course he did. He simply raised one blade-hand and deflected the spinning steel, sending it careening off into the grass.

He thought it was over. Finally. After everything she had to be finished.

There was nothing left for her to—

”TAKE THIS, HERO!”

Mavis’s scream was desperate and furious.

She had no blade left on her hilt. The sword was gone, deflected into the dirt.

All she held was the empty handle, completely useless as a weapon.

But she swung it at him anyway.

For a moment, Luca thought she had simply lost control—that frustration had overwhelmed her reason and she was attacking with nothing but a handle, pure rage given form.

Then, at the very last instant, she twisted the hilt around.

And the bulky ornament at the base split open and a second blade, thinner than the first shot out from the bottom of the hilt!

SHING!

It extended from the base of the hilt like a deadly secret, aimed directly at his neck.

And simultaneously, another orb detonated.

Boom!

A thick cloud of smoke erupted between them, engulfing both combatants and hiding the entire scene from view.

The last image the stunned centaurs caught before the shroud covered everything was Mavis’s hidden blade driving toward Luca’s neck—

—and Luca himself, looking genuinely surprised for the first time all day, as he realized she had yet another weapon he hadn’t anticipated.

And then the smoke swallowed them both whole.

—

The fog hung heavy over the field.

The centaurs who had been watching stood frozen, their hearts hammering against their ribs.

No one spoke.

No one breathed.

They had assumed Luca would play with Mavis, toying with her as he had toyyed with all of them, before eventually putting her in her place.

Instead, they had watched Mavis, the weakest, smallest, least-trained centaur in the entire clan push the legendary Hero back.

And now, at the final moment, everything had been swallowed up by smoke.

”W-What happened?” Someone shouted desperately. ”What happened in there? Who won?!”

”What were all those tricks Mavis pulled off?!” Another demanded. ”I always knew she was tricky, but who would have thought she could do something like that?!”

”She actually pushed the Hero back! She actually managed to do it!”

One of Mavis’s friends was nearly vibrating with anxiety.

”WHO WON? WHO WON THE DUEL? TELL ME WHO WON!”

Immediately, a chorus of confident voices answered her.

”OF COURSE THE HERO WON!”

”NO MATTER HOW MANY TRICKS SHE HAS UP HER SLEEVE, IT HAS TO BE THE HERO!”

”THERE’S NO WAY MAVIS COULD ACTUALLY BEAT HIM!”

They all spoke with utter conviction. Of course, it wasn’t out of malice. Rather they were certain that no matter how clever Mavis’s tricks might be, in the end, the man who had defeated all of them, would somehow find a way to triumph.

But as the smoke slowly cleared, the confident declarations died in their throats.

One centaur’s jaw dropped open.

Another’s eyes went impossibly wide.

Several dropped their swords entirely, the blades thudding against the grass without anyone noticing.

”Impossible...This is impossible.”

”What..am I seeing before my eyes right now?”

”This can’t be. This can’t be.”

”Tell me I’m dreaming! Someone tell me I’m dreaming!”

Even Sigrid stood frozen, her cold composure finally cracking.

Thea’s hands had fallen away from Poppy’s ears.

The queen herself stared with wide, uncomprehending eyes.

The sight before them was one they had never expected to witness. Not in a thousand years. Not in ten thousand.

Mavis stood before Luca.

She was drenched in sweat, her chest heaving with exhaustion, her small body trembling from the effort of everything she had just unleashed.

Every trick, every mechanism, every contingency—she had burned through them all, and the toll was written plainly across her face.

But in her hand, she still held that final blade. The hidden one.

And that blade was resting directly against Luca’s neck!

It had not been parried away.

It had not been deflected or dodged or sent spinning into the grass.

It was pressed firmly against his throat, and where the edge met skin, a single drop of blood was slowly welling up and trickling down.

Which meant—

Mavis had actually defeated the Hero!