Chapter 6: Public Showdown, Private War

The Swordmaster's phantom disappeared, but his power still lingered.

I could feel it in the air, humming just beneath the surface.

I bowed to the empty air. "I won't let you down, master."

My voice echoed in the chamber, strong and sure. For the first time in a long time, I believed it.

I spent half a year training with the Swordmaster's method. Only when I felt ready did I leave my room.

The days blurred into weeks, then months. I drilled until my muscles screamed, sparred with shadows, learned to move like water and strike like lightning. When I finally emerged, I was a different person.

Same old story. In front of the gym, a group of teammates surrounded Savannah, who was smiling radiantly as they showered her with praise.

The sun was setting, painting the parking lot gold. Savannah stood in the middle of the group, basking in their attention like a cat in a sunbeam.

"Savannah is amazing—she tamed the Ice Snake drill, and she's only a sophomore! So impressive!"

The Ice Snake drill was infamous—Coach's favorite test of reflexes. Most people took months to master it. Savannah made it look easy, or so they said.

A pure white little snake was coiled around her wrist, biting its own tail. Show-off.

The snake glimmered in the fading light, its scales almost translucent. Savannah stroked it absently, like it was a charm bracelet.

Always playing the innocent. Savannah blushed and shyly said,

"It's all thanks to Tyler. I just said the little snake was cute, and he helped me learn the drill."

She ducked her head, her cheeks pink. The others giggled, eating it up.

Of course he did. Tyler, standing beside her, smiled calmly:

"It's just a basic skill. In the future, when I make captain, I'll even teach you the Phoenix Strike."

He puffed out his chest, grinning like he'd already won. Typical Tyler.

She had them all wrapped around her finger. The others cheered even louder.

They clapped him on the back, shouting encouragement. The whole scene made my skin crawl.

I sneered, and the two of them looked over at the same time. The other teammates quickly picked up their practice swords and pretended to train.

My glare was enough to send them scattering, suddenly very interested in their footwork.

Couldn't resist. "Tyler, you're really ambitious. You haven't even made captain yet, and you're already planning what you'll do after."

My tone was sharp, but Tyler just shrugged, a smug smile on his lips.

Tyler frowned in surprise. "It's only been half a year, and you're already varsity? Seriously?"

He looked me up and down, disbelief written all over his face. I let him sweat.

Not this time. Before I could answer, Savannah ran toward me enthusiastically, but I blocked her with my sword.

She stopped short, her eyes wide. I didn't move, didn't flinch.

Here we go. She looked at me with innocent, confused eyes, as if she might cry:

Fake tears. "Mariah, I just haven't seen you in so long and wanted to be close to you. I didn't expect you to dislike me so much."

Her voice trembled, the picture of wounded innocence. I wasn't buying it.

I slung my sword over my back and walked around her. "I don't like being close to others."

I kept my tone flat, my expression unreadable. Let her wonder what I was thinking.

At the same time, I heard a voice in my head:

[Main target Luca is dead. Silver locket must be retrieved by the host herself.]

The words echoed in my mind, cold and mechanical. I scanned her face, searching for any sign of where it came from. Nothing.

I searched her face, but couldn't find the source—it had to be in her head.

It was like a shadow lurking just out of sight. I made a mental note to keep watching.

Persistent. Savannah quickly walked in front of me, looking surprised:

"Mariah, the locket on your chest looks just like the keepsake my mom left behind. It's just that I'm so clumsy, I don't know where I lost mine."

She reached out, fingers trembling, her eyes wide and pleading. The performance was flawless.

Damn. I looked down. The locket that should have been hidden at my chest was somehow exposed.

The chain glinted in the sunlight, drawing every eye in the group. I cursed myself for being careless.

She's laying it on thick. She stared at the locket, looking lost:

Classic Savannah. "I'm really useless. I can't even keep track of my mom's only keepsake."

Her voice broke, a single tear rolling down her cheek. The others murmured sympathetically.

Let them think what they want. Seeing the various expressions on the teammates' faces around us, I smiled.

Let them think what they want. I wasn't playing her game anymore.

Savannah was just short of putting the word 'thief' on my forehead.

She wanted them to turn on me, to make me the villain. Fine. Let her try.

I said calmly, "You really are clumsy."

I let the words hang, daring her to argue.

Savannah's eyes widened, as if she'd misheard. "What?"

She looked genuinely shocked, like she couldn't believe I'd call her out.

I repeated, "I said you're stupid and clumsy, weak and useless—not fit for anything that matters."

My voice was cold, cutting through the silence. I saw the shock ripple through the group.

I glanced at all the teammates standing in front of me. None dared meet my eyes.

They shifted uncomfortably, avoiding my gaze. I almost laughed.

"Of everyone on the Maple Heights team, only you are still at the beginner level. Even those who joined after you have already made junior varsity. Tell me. Aren't you the very definition of an idiot?"

I let the words sink in, watching Savannah's facade crack.

Savannah's body trembled, and tears streamed down her face.

She covered her mouth, sobbing. The others looked at me like I'd kicked a puppy.

Predictable. Tyler shielded her behind him and scolded me in a low voice:

"Mariah, that's enough! Savannah is delicate and new—it's normal that she hasn't adapted yet. Just for a locket, do you have to be so harsh? Is that what a big sister's supposed to do?"

He glared at me, his voice shaking with anger. I stared back, unflinching.

Always the saint. Savannah explained kindly from behind him:

Manipulative. "Mariah, I know you didn't take the locket on purpose, but it's the only thing my mom left me. How about I trade you the Butterfly Robe Coach gave me for it?"

She held out her hands, pleading. The offer was pure manipulation.

Tyler looked heartbroken. "Savannah, how can you wrong yourself like this? Clearly—"

He reached for her arm, his voice soft, trying to comfort her.

She was good. "Tyler, don't say that. The Butterfly Robe may be a top-tier uniform, but to me, it's not even one ten-thousandth as important as my mom."

She wiped her eyes, sniffling. The act was flawless.

"The locket is Savannah's mom's keepsake. Mariah, I advise you to return it to her, and we can call it even."

Tyler's voice was firm, but his eyes darted nervously. He was trying to play peacemaker, but I could see right through him.

The two of them were perfectly in sync. Tyler reached out his hand for the locket.

He held his palm out, expectant. Like it was already his.

I narrowed my eyes and asked:

I wasn't giving in. "Who do you think you're talking to?"

My voice was low, steady, and just a little dangerous. I let the question linger, daring anyone to answer.