The World Is Mine For The Taking

She charged at me with relentless speed, closing the distance in an instant. Gathering my wits, I swiftly countered with a sweeping kick aimed at her side, intending to catch her off guard. But she reacted with lightning reflexes, blocking my kick with her forearms, the impact reverberating through the air.

Not wasting a moment, I spun around, launching another kick towards her head. She anticipated my move, deflecting the blow once more with her arm. In a swift maneuver, she seized my extended leg, attempting to hurl me off balance. Digging my heels into the ground, I anchored myself firmly, refusing to be lifted.

With determination, I twisted my body, entwining both legs around her arm. Using my weight and momentum, I spun low to the ground, aiming to unbalance her and send her crashing down. Yet, she countered my effort with unwavering stability, standing firm against my maneuver.

I quickly disengaged, stepping away and resetting myself in a fighting stance. She cracked her neck with a sharp tilt, then mirrored my stance, her eyes locked onto mine with fierce determination.

We charged at each other again, our feet kicking up clouds of dust. As we closed the gap, we unleashed a relentless barrage of punches. Some were blocked, others dodged, and a few landed squarely on our faces, each hit stinging with raw intensity. But we didn't stop. Instead, our punches came faster and harder.

The sheer force of our impacts pushed us back, our feet skidding against the ground as we struggled to maintain our footing. Yet, neither of us relented, driven by an unyielding resolve to outlast the other.

However, her punches were more powerful than mine, and I realized that continuing this barrage would only end in defeat for me. Desperate, I focused all my mana into one hand, concentrating it until it became a potent force. I aimed a strike at her, hoping to turn the tide of the fight.

Unfortunately, she anticipated my move. She caught my arm, her grip like iron, and held me firmly in place. Before I could react, she swung her fist at me with incredible force. The impact was so intense, it felt like my neck was on the verge of snapping.

I managed to break free from her grip, stumbling back a few steps. Something felt wrong inside my mouth. Rolling my tongue around, I found something hard. Spitting it out, I saw a mix of blood and my tooth hit the ground. I glanced at the tooth for a moment before wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, smearing blood across my knuckles.

"You certainly hit me pretty good," I said, my voice gritty.

"You're not bad yourself," she replied, a smirk playing on her lips. "You've landed some solid punches too."

"Not as good as yours," I admitted, my body aching from the exchange.

This was bad. My vision blurred, and my legs felt like they might give out at any moment. Each punch had left a brutal mark, and my body screamed in agony. I could feel myself teetering on the brink of collapse. The will to stand still burned within me, but I knew with every fiber of my being that another exchange like that would be the end for me.

I never thought I'd find myself losing in a battle of pure martial arts. I had always prided myself on being the best. Since discovering that my skill wasn't particularly useful in combat, I had poured all my energy into strengthening my physical prowess and mastering martial arts.

I graduated in the silver class, which was a far cry from the bronze class but still a step below the coveted gold. This achievement allowed me to chase my dream of becoming a professor, the profession I truly desired. But my family had other plans. My parents were renowned magic knights, and my brother followed in their footsteps. They expected me to do the same.

It was the unspoken rule for those born into a family of magic knights.

When I failed to reach the gold class, they stripped me of my last name, erasing my identity. I was forced to serve my own family as a personal knight. My only shot at freedom was to become an agent for the Administrators, a deal I had no choice but to accept.

During my time as a personal knight for my own family, I had nothing. The salary was pitifully low, barely a silver each day. It was enough to scrape by, but it was a struggle I found hard to endure. Luckily, I had a small escape during those days — reading books, especially romance novels. They were my only solace.

Once, I had daydreamed about embodying those heroines from the books — the ones rescued by their heroes, swept off their feet by the main character. I craved for a dashing man to appear and pluck me from the depths of my family's control. But as countless days turned into months, my longing remained unfulfilled.

Gradually, I began to realize that perhaps my story wasn't meant to follow the typical damsel in distress narrative. Maybe I was destined for something different — to forge my path as an independent heroine, standing strong and relying on no one. The idea took root that I might be destined to walk this path alone.

I didn't need a man anyway. I could fight solo and live independently. At this stage, I wasn't expecting anyone to sweep me off my feet or come to my rescue. That would be too cliché, as they say.

I cracked my knuckles, then my neck, and stretched my legs.

"Looks like you can still fight. I thought you'd be down by now after that blow to your face," she remarked.

"Yeah, that took a lot out of me, but I'm far from done yet. We're just getting started!"

I dashed towards her and began by swinging my leg at her head for a kick. She seemed caught off-guard by my speed, but quickly composed herself and blocked my attack. Without hesitation, I followed up with my other leg, spinning in midair to aim another kick at her head. She managed to dodge by stepping back.

I didn't give her time to breathe. I swung my fist at her relentlessly. It was like I was attacking without thought, abandoning technique for pure aggression. By attacking this way, I kept her guessing about what would come next.

The woman countered my onslaught with remarkable poise, using her arms to shield her face from the barrage. My attempt to break through her defenses with an uppercut was met with swift adjustment, as she deftly shifted her arm to block it. With each passing moment, my confidence waned, yet I refused to back down.

Despite the mounting odds, I pushed myself to the brink, unleashing a relentless storm of punches upon her.

"Ugh, this shit's getting boring. Let's cut this crap," she muttered.

The moment I heard that, my vision suddenly shifted, and I found myself gazing at the night sky. It felt like I was floating, weightless and untethered. No, it wasn't just a feeling—it was real. I was literally off the ground. What had just happened in that blink of an eye, or even faster than that, was an idea I could not comprehend.

Then, my body crashed violently to the ground, and a sharp pain shot through me as if my bones were being crushed under a heavy weight.

"Gaaaaaaaaaaah!"

What had she just done to me? I couldn't comprehend it. The attack was executed with lightning speed, leaving me no time to react or even see it coming.

"It's way too easy. And here I thought you would put up more of a fight, being the skilled martial artist you are. You're a disgrace to martial artists," she taunted. "No martial artist would lose composure like you, or make rookie mistakes like that."

She approached me with a predatory calm, her grip on my chin firm and unyielding as she stared into my eyes.

"I had hoped for more fight from you. What a disappointment," she uttered coldly. "Oh well. Time to die."

I shut my eyes.

***

It was dark. I felt weightless, as if I were flying. Was this the sensation of dying? Or was I ascending to the place where the dead rest?

I slowly opened my eyes and saw the night sky above me, moving. No, it was me who was being moved. Someone was carrying me. That someone... resembled the dashing prince I had always hoped would sweep me off my feet.