ShadowBound: The Need For Power

The moment Mabel raised her sword and unleashed the cyclone of Myst, everything changed.

Water spiraled with spatial distortion, her aura surging with refined precision that bordered on terrifying. Liam, still midair, narrowed his eyes—but the grin on his face had vanished.

He blinked once.

She was already there.

The first blow struck his chest, launching him into a glass wall that shattered into an endless abyss. Before he could reorient himself, another blink strike came from below, the flat of her blade smashing into his back and sending him ricocheting through a spiral of fractured space.

She's faster.

He pushed off a twisted column, daggers flaring, trying to catch her next move. But Mabel didn't attack where she was—she struck from where she would be next. Her movements flowed like water, each blink not just a teleport but a continuation of momentum, forming an unpredictable and chaotic dance.

Liam gritted his teeth as he crossed his daggers. "Shadow Rend."

At first, it seemed like a simple double slash—but reality rippled.

A beat later, dozens of blade-shaped shockwaves of slicing void appeared hurling toward Mabel. The entire space flickered—reality itself shuddering under the weight of the destructive spell.

But Mabel wasn't there.

She appeared above, unharmed, her aura pulsing cool and still.

'She adapted to my pattern before I even used it.'

He launched a barrage of Miniature Suns, flicking them out in precise lines, then followed with a searing Inferno Edge, blade wreathed in molten fire slashing in brutal arcs. The space warped under the force—but Mabel blinked through each attack like starlight herself, her form flickering from angle to impossible angle, phasing around him without leaving even a ripple.

He exhaled sharply. "If that isn't working, I'll just tear your field apart."

Raising both hands, Liam summoned an Umbra Star, a bigger an this time. He hurled it toward a reflective shard—one of the floating anchor points of the mirror dimension—intending to collapse her field from within.

It hit.

But instead of the impact tearing the space apart, it folded—flipped—then reversed.

Mabel had seen it coming.

The dimension bent the trajectory of the Umbra Star back toward its origin.

Liam barely had time to widen his eyes before the explosion struck him dead-on.

BOOM.

The entire dimension fractured with a brilliant flash.

And then—silence.

The warped space unraveled violently. Gravity reasserted itself. Reflections shattered and bled into streams of light, and the twisted geometry folded in on itself like collapsing paper. The training hall snapped back to reality.

Liam crashed down from above, body limp as he slammed into the marble floor with a brutal crunch, sending cracks outward in a webbed pattern.

He groaned, rolling slightly, arms twitching from exhaustion. His daggers flickered out of existence.

A moment later, Mabel landed gracefully beside him, her long sword humming faintly as she pressed its gleaming edge against his throat.

Her expression was calm, but her eyes held a trace of pride… and warning.

"You fought better than anyone I've trained with in months," she said quietly, a slight smile playing on her lips. "But this is what happens when I actually take things seriously."

Liam exhaled slowly, sweat trailing from his brow as he met her gaze.

His voice rasped. "Yeah… I noticed."

He tilted his head back with a tired sigh as her blade remained still at his neck. Not mocking or smug. Just absolute, undeniable victory.

He had lost.

And he knew and accepted it

Mabel finally lifted her sword and turned away, still looming over him.

"You've got potential, Liam," she added glancing down on him. "But potential doesn't mean much… if you don't learn when you're outmatched."

Liam let his head fall back against the cracked floor, staring at the ceiling.

"…Noted," he muttered, breath shaky.

The ceiling swirled faintly in his vision.

'Crazy thing is… she never even passed fifty percent.' he thought, eyes slipping closed.

As he lay still, catching his breath, a shadow fell over him—but it wasn't Mabel's.

A voice followed, familiar and amused.

"I've gotta say, that was quite a show you put on," Queen Lucy said, stepping forward, her presence commanding but calm.

Liam's eyes opened slowly, catching the sight of Lucy standing just a few paces away. Mystica stood to her right, smirking. Dove stood on her left, hands in her pockets, visibly annoyed about something.

"Your Majesty," Mabel immediately dropped to one knee, bowing her head low. "This… this isn't what it looks like."

"At ease, Mabel," Lucy replied smoothly. "I saw enough. Not everything, but enough."

Her voice remained even, though a thread of reprimand laced her words.

"Still—fighting an academy student six years your junior when I told you to watch him? That's disobedience. And that means punishment."

Mabel's jaw tensed. This was what she had wanted to avoid from the beginning.

"Underst—" she started, but Liam's voice cut in first.

"I don't think that would be fair," he said, pushing himself up with a wince, settling into a seated position with his back to them. Then he turned, facing them.

"I'm the one who pushed for it. I wanted to see how strong she really was. I thought maybe I could use her to test my new limits."

His voice was casual, almost bored.

"Sounds like you," Mystica said with a smirk, eyes flicking toward him.

Lucy's gaze lingered on him for a moment.

"So you're asking me to let her off?"

"Yes, Your Majesty. I did promise her she wouldn't get in trouble if I told you what really happened." Liam shrugged. "So if she does, that makes me a man who doesn't keep his word."

Lucy raised a brow.

"That's generous. But you do realize Mabel's fate isn't in your hands, right? Making promises you don't have power over… isn't a promise. Just empty words." Her tone was calm but firm.

Liam looked at her calmly for a moment before speaking. "Well… how about you spare her as part of the reward you were going to give me?"

Lucy raised an eyebrow. "Reward? For what, exactly?"

"Risking my life to locate hybrids, of course." Liam replied with a faint smirk. "Even though no one told me to do it, we both know I still helped the Kingdom. So… seems fair, no?"

A brief silence followed. Lucy's emerald eyes lingered on him—thoughtful and impressed.

'He's even more interesting than I thought.' she mused, a smirk tugging at her lips.

"Damn brat," Dove muttered, giving him a sideways glance. "Is that Asmir guy still having an affect on you, or were you always like this?"

Liam shrugged. "A bit of both," he said, rising to his feet. Then he turned back to Lucy. "So… spare her?"

Lucy looked from him to Mabel, then smirked. "If that's what you want. Though, just so you know—it's your reward being wasted."

"Wasted?" Liam repeated, his tone easy. "Sorry, but I think you're wrong, Your Majesty. I'm not wasting anything. Fighting Mabel, even for a few moments, taught me more than hours with training dummies ever could."

He dusted off his sleeveless under-tunic casually. "So really, it's a double win. I got what I wanted from her and kept my word."

Lucy gave a soft hum, her gaze weighing him again. "I see. Clever. Very well reasoned." She then turned to Mabel. "You're pardoned."

"Thank you, my Queen," Mabel said evenly, bowing her head.

"Well," Liam exhaled, glancing toward the exit, "now that that's settled… I should wash off. Is there a bathroom in that room from earlier?"

"There is," Lucy said, a playful glint in her eyes. "What do you take my palace for?"

Liam scratched the back of his head, voice almost polite. "Erm… sorry, but it is a royal palace. For all I know, you might have a whole separate chamber just for showering. Or am I wrong?"

Mystica stifled a laugh behind her hand.

Dove didn't bother—she burst out laughing, clutching her stomach. "Pfft—hahahaha! Who knew the stoic, 'clever-minded' kid thinks like that?"

Lucy's composure slipped for half a second before she answered, voice still smooth. "No, we don't do anything that ridiculous. Each chamber comes with its own bath, Liam."

"I see," Liam muttered as his eye twitched, glaring briefly at Dove who was still wiping tears from her eyes.

"I'll be going then." Without another word, he turned and walked toward where he'd left his folded boots and shirt—only to find them shredded from the fight.

He didn't comment. He just headed straight for the exit and disappeared beyond the corridor.