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2: family?

  Nero moved first, hurling a fireball straight at Nemsus before going sideways. Delilah mirrored him, splitting right. Their strategy was simple, force Nemsus into the middle, then strike from both sides.

  But Nemsus only grinned.

  A flicker of light. An identical copy appeared beside him.

  Nero watched in curiosity. This was the first time he had seen this spell.

  The real Nemsus blurred out of the fireball’s path, reappearing in front of Nero in the blink of an eye. Fast.

  At the same time, his illusion lunged at Delilah, but she just waited.

  Nero reacted instantly, swinging his sword mid-step, but Nemsus blocked the attack with his blade, twisting it aside like it was nothing.

  A smirk tugged at his lips, the physical difference was now clear and he entended to use it .

  Nero’s gaze sharpened. His blade ignited with fire.

  "Good. Let’s see how far that gap goes."

  He struck again, feinting high before twisting low, his blade cutting upward.

  Nemsus read it, his body shifting with a speed that blurred the air. Nero’s sword sliced an empty space. Before he could recover, a kick exploded toward him.

  Then a dull, crushing force slammed into his arm, sending him flying. Pain flared through his body, sharp and immediate. Shit.

  Nero barely braced before impact. He landed in a crouch. His arms burned.

  Nemsus rolled his shoulders. “That all you got?”

  He turned toward Delilah, a whisper of cold steel, his body dropped instinctively.

  Her sword passed through empty air, missing his throat by a breath. She had been waiting from the beginning. The illusion didn't fool her, even though it was the first time she had seen it.

  Nemsus was on the ground

  Delilah didn’t hesitate, she wouldn’t waste an opportunity like this. Her momentum carried her forward, twisting her body into a vicious kick aimed straight at his face.

  He managed to block with one hand and caught her ankle with the other, his grip like iron.

  Nemsus raised his arm in time, his forearm taking the brunt of the blow. He was mutch faster then them and it going more and more cleare, his other hand shot out, fingers locking around her ankle like a steel vice. His grip crushed down, strong enough to bruise.

  For a brief moment, Delilah hung in the air, but she didn’t panic. Instead, she moved with him. Rather than pulling away, she pushed forward, driving her weight down into his hold. Nemsus faltered, his stance breaking just enough.

  Her sword blurred, a flash of silver slicing down at his face. Nemsus flinched back, barely twisting away in time. His grip loosened and Delilah ripped her leg free, her lips curled ever so slightly.

  A presence surged behind him, Nero!

  Nemsus didn't need to turn. His body moved on instinct, his mind rushed through his choices.

  He could turn directly to defend against Nero, but then he would get slashed by Delilah. Or he could close the distance with Delilah to limit her swordplay, taking a hit in exchange for a chance to defend against nero.

  He went with the second.

  He surged forward, pressing so close to her that her blade was useless. At the same time, he twisted, filling his sword with lightning. Nero’s fireball howled toward him. He raised his sword blocking the spell.

  The explosion sent sparks flying, but it wasn’t enough to shake him.

  Delilah seized the opportunity. Her fist snapped toward Nemsus’s ribs, a strike meant to shatter balance and leave him gasping.

  It landed.

  But instead of a stagger or a sharp inhale of pain, Nemsus barely flinched. He felt it, she could tell by the faint tension in his muscles.

  But it wasn’t the reaction she expected. Someone hitten that hard in the ribs should struggle to breathe, yet he stood firm, unmoved. Worse, a dull ache crept into her knuckles.

  Her eyes narrowed, the only real advantage she and Nero had was their swordsmanship. Nemsus clearly outclassed them in almost everything else, he was stronger, faster, more durable and had far more mana than both of them combined.

  But the real problem she noticed was how fast he was reacting to their attacks. Nemsus was always faster then them even before this fight thanks to his lightning rune but now that he'd ascended, adding to that puching his lightening rune to the next level, it was just different.

  His movements were sharper, more instinctive. There was no hesitation, no wasted motion, like his body responded before his mind even had to think. If it wasn't for that he would have already lost.

  Before she could adjust, Nemsus moved, a shift in his weight, a twist of his torso, his leg snapped up. She was barely able to leap back in time, her balance momentarily off but zhe managed to land steadily, still watching.

  Nemsus clicked his tongue. His eyes flicked to her hand, it was enjured but as a faint glow pulsed. The injuries knit themselves shut as if they were never there.

  Expected. He scoffed internally.

  Unlike Nero, who had a Darkness rune that let him slip away and strike unseen, Delilah was more phisical. She had a Life rune so unless you really hurt her, badly enough to break her down completely, she'd just keep getting back up.

  Ouuuf..." Nemsus exhaled sharply, his chest heaving.

  Electricity surged through his veins, and lightning burst outward. The battlefield flashed with arcs of blue-white energy, crackling like chains snapping loose. Nero and Delilah danced back through the haze of scorched air, their figures flickering in and out of sight.

  The siblings circled him, steps measured, never still. They moved in tandem, weaving around each other like twin wolves stalking their prey. Their eyes gleamed — cold, curious, calculating.

  "He's holding back !?."

  Delilah’s thoughts sharpened. Nemsus could use more spells, she was sure of it, yet he wasn’t. It was deliberate, like he wanted to win his way.

  A grin crept across her face, mirrored perfectly by Nero’s. They lived for this kind of surprises. After all these years of beating him bloody, watching Nemsus still hold back felt almost insulting... but also hilarious.

  "He's still trying," Delilah murmured.

  "That's why we like him after all" Nero added.

  Their eyes gleamed. It wasn’t just fun it was ironic. Nemsus thought he could win without sinking to their level. Just because he'd ascended... how precious. How pathetic.

  Nero could hardly wait to prove him wrong.

  They struck again, this time with nothing but steel, no tricks, no spells, just cold iron clashing in the air.

  Nemsus held the center, defending as their attacks came from opposite angles. His mind raced. What the hell is this?

  Neither sibling could match his strength or speed, yet their blades never stopped coming. Every strike forced him to block or twist, their attacks weaving together like threads in a web.

  It wasn’t two people attacking him? it was one mind, relentless and precise. Their strikes never overlapped, never wasted motion. The moment he focused on one, the other slipped into his blind spot.

  Nemsus parried Nero’s blade, only for Delilah’s sword to flicker in low, forcing him into an awkward twist. Before he could recover, Nero’s blade dragged across his shoulder, shallow but deliberate.

  Another strike. Then another. Never deep, never critical, but each one chipped away at his focus.

  His muscles burned, his sword growing heavier with each desperate block. He counted the blows, ten, eleven, twelve deflected just enough to stay alive. But the constant movement wore him down.

  By the fifteenth strike, his arms felt like lead. Thin lines of blood marked his skin, shallow cuts and bruises, none of them serious, yet they told him everything he needed to know.

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  It wasn’t strength or speed, it was pure control. Every move they made was deliberate. They weren’t just fighting him, they were testing him.

  "Bastards..." Nemsus muttered through gritted teeth. He made a decision: since he couldn't win with his sword, he'd win with spells instead.

  He looked at them like he was deciding something. Electricity crackled beneath his skin, coiling through his body, and then he moved, faster than before.

  Delilah and Nero closed in again, pressing from both sides, their timing perfect. But this time, Nemsus ignored Delilah entirely and shot toward Nero with everything he had. His strike hit hard, sending Nero flying before he launched after him. That would buy him a few seconds, just enough before Delilah caught up.

  In an instant, Nemsus conjured two illusions. They blurred forward, striking from three different angles.

  Nero hesitated.

  No, he pretended to.

  The first illusion lunged from the left. The second from the right and the real Nemsus drove straight down the middle.

  He barely spared the first a glance, lunging at the middle one instead.

  Nemsus’s eyes narrowed. "He knows."

  Nero smiled as he approached him, his form flickered.

  Not vanished. Just… slipped. Nemsus’s focus wavered as his mind began to ignore Nero's presence, his existence thinning from the battlefield like a mirage.

  He gritted his teeth. "That damn spell."

  In every previous battle, that spell was the reason he lost.

  The absence spell didn’t make Nero truly invisible, but it erased his presence, turning him into something unnatural, something the senses and even the instinct couldn’t grasp. Even when looking directly at him, the mind refused to acknowledge his existence, as if he were both there and not there at the same time.

  And in those few fleeting seconds in that form, Nero always struck from Nemsus's blind spot as he was forced to defend.

  But not this time, Nemsus’s instincts flared as he moved instantly using his new speed to create a bigger distance. He couldn’t risk staying close to Nero in that state,

  As his gaze snapped up, Delilah was already there her blade going for his head. She knew him well, well enough to predict his next move.

  His sword lashed out, striking from the side. Steel clashed with a sharp shriek, the force of his parry driving Delilah back.

  Nemsus smirked. Even with her precision and technique, she couldn’t land a proper hit, not against the sheer physical advantage he had.

  Nemsus rolled his shoulders. A smile appeared on his face, Instead of going after her, he shifted his weight and struck at the open space on his right.

  There. Nero was already mid-swing.

  Nemsus had been waiting for this chance since the beginning.

  Their swords clashed and lightning erupted.

  A surge of electricity crackled from Nemsus’s hand, racing through his blade before leaping onto Nero’s sword. The moment their weapons connected, the current found its path.

  Pain tore through Nero’s body. His eyes widened as his muscles seized, locking him in place. His vision blurred, his grip faltering.

  Nemsus didn’t stop. With a sharp twist of his blade, he sent another violent surge through the metal.

  "You forgot something, Nero."

  The jolt deepened, sharp and unforgiving.

  Nemsus chuckled. "Never fight a lightning user with an empty blade."

  Sure, Nero knew him well enough to predict his movements even seeing the illusion for the first time hadn’t caught him off guard. But Nemsus knew him just as well. After four years of sparring, he’d learned the pattern every loss, every failure, all because of that damn spell.

  For someone like Nero, a pure mage, using a high-tier spell like that was risky. A Level 3 spell drained mana fast, and Nemsus knew exactly how many seconds Nero had before he ran dry.

  And once his mana was gone... no more reinforced blade, no way to counter the lightning still crawling through Nemsus' weapon.

  Nero’s grip faltered. His body gave out.

  But his heart felt warmer. That was fun, and in just a few seconds, there would be even more.

  Nemsus's lightning was stronger than usual, it was more refined, more destructive. The difference was clear, his mana was purer now. He was an Ascendant after all.

  before Nemsus could savor the victory

  Shhk!

  A glint of ice.

  In his joy he totally forgot about Delilah.

  He twisted, dodging a jagged spear by a hair

  His gaze snapped towards her.

  She wasn’t done.

  Two more spears erupted from the left, forcing him right.

  Nemsus smiled nero was down and with her alone he could finally beat them.

  His foot hit the ground ready to launch but it slid.

  "What!?"

  Ice.

  The terrain beneath him had frozen solid.

  Nemsus’s foot hit the frozen surface, and his body slid. He cursed, twisting to stabilize himself. His stance faltered, not enough to fall, but enough to ruin his momentum.

  Then came the spear. A jagged spike of ice, rushing toward him. He barely dodged, throwing himself to the side.

  Too close.

  Two more spears erupted from the left. He moved to his right, driving his foot down to push off the ice.

  It didn’t budge.

  His gaze shot down, ice clung to his boot, snaring him in place. His breath caught. Damn it... when did she

  Another spear shot forward. He barely twisted aside, the ice scraping his ribs as it passed.

  I can still break free. Nemsus gritted his teeth, mana surging through his body. Just burn through it, one spell should....

  A whisper of air. Steel pressed cold against his throat.

  Nemsus froze.

  Delilah’s blade hovered just below his jaw, steady and certain.

  Her gaze was calm not smug, not cruel. Just cold and focused. She had been watching, waiting for this moment. Nero’s spell, her patience, the ice it had all been calculated from the start.

  Nemsus let out a long breath. He’d been so fixated on winning with raw power that he’d walked straight into their trap. It wasn’t humiliation that stung, it was the simple fact that they’d outplayed him.

  He hit the frozen ground with his fist, frustration boiling over.

  He could’ve drowned them in illusions, could’ve blasted them down with spells. But he'd wanted to win with the sword, to prove he could match them at their own game.

  He stared at Delilah’s blade, still poised at his throat.

  A weak, ragged sound broke the silence.

  “Hhhh…”

  Nero.

  Lying face-down in the dirt, body twitching, barely able to move, laughing.

  Nemsus's eye twitched.

  That bastard was laughing at him even in that state.

  His jaw clenched so hard it hurt. He flicked his gaze to Delilah.

  She covered her mouth, but he could see it—the slight shake in her shoulders, the way her eyes gleamed. She wanted to laugh too.

  Nemsus felt his face heat up. No. No fucking way.

  His lip stung, he’d bitten it without realizing.

  "Fuck this."

  He stepped back, scowling. "I’ll be at the orphanage."

  He didn’t look back. He just started walking, fast, furious strides. He needed to clear his head. He needed space.

  But his foot slid again.

  His balance wobbled, and he barely managed to catch himself. A curse shot from his mouth. Behind him, Delilah's composure finally cracked.

  A sudden, sharp burst of laughter escaped her, shattering the cold, unreadable mask she always wore. For a few seconds, the serious, calculating Delilah was nowhere to be seen. Just pure, unrestrained amusement.

  Nero’s laughter only grew louder, wheezing between ragged breaths. His whole body was still locked up, but that didn’t stop him.

  Nemsus’s fists clenched. His face was totaly red.

  He didn’t run. Not this time. He just walked faster, jaw tight, fingers curling and uncurling at his sides.

  Delilah took a deep breath, forcing herself to calm down. The moment passed, and the faintest trace of a smile lingered as she walked over to Nero, kneeling beside him.

  She knelt beside him, placing a hand on his back. A soft glow spread from her fingertips as her mana began mending his body.

  Nero was still grinning, a weak, ragged smile clinging stubbornly to his face. His voice came out hoarse, yet thick with amusement.

  "He really thought he had me." His breath hitched, but that didn’t stop him from chuckling. "All those years… always losing to me… and he still thought today would be different?"

  He snorted, turning his head just enough to meet Delilah’s gaze. The look they shared was sharp and smug — like two puppeteers laughing at their dancing strings.

  "I told you, Dee," Nero muttered, voice low. "He's funny. It's worth keeping him alive." His grin widened. "I’ve even started to like him. Can you imagine?"

  Delilah gave a soft hum, brushing her hair back with one hand. "Sure... but his downfall’s gonna be even better." Her smile thinned. "You think he’s smart enough to see it coming?"

  "Not a chance." Nero smirked.

  Delilah’s eyes lingered on him for a moment before narrowing slightly. “Isn’t it time we ended this family game, Nero? Four years is a long time... I need a new goal.”

  Nero’s grin faltered. For just a moment, something colder flickered behind his eyes.

  “If you want to,” he said quietly. “We will. I mean... I thought you liked killing the kids from the city.”

  Delilah shrugged. “I did — for a while. But I’m getting bored. I thought the Empire would send someone by now, but they haven’t. If this keeps going, I’ll just end up killing our so-called brothers too.”

  Nero barked out a short laugh. “Viser will kill you for that.”

  Delilah shook her head. “We were never supposed to be here anyway, remember? He offered to train us, and we stayed… but easy living’s dull. I want more.”

  Nero said nothing — because she was right. Four years was a long time. At first, playing family had been fun. Even growing stronger had kept things interesting for a while. But safety… stability… none of it scratched that itch. Not for him. Not for Delilah.

  Neither of them spoke after that. Delilah stood and held out her hand.

  “Let’s go,” she said, her voice light but still carrying that smug edge. "The others are waiting."

  Nero took her hand without hesitation, his fingers curling tightly around hers.

  Together, they walked back home.

  As they arrived, the orphanage stood before them a sturdy, timeworn building that had seen years of laughter, struggles, and growth. Its white walls, though simple, held warmth, and the structure itself gave a sense of quiet resilience. The wooden door creaked slightly as they stepped inside, a familiar sound that welcomed them home.

  The scent of aged paper and faint traces of cooked meals lingered in the air, mingling with the crisp evening breeze that flowed through the open spaces. Despite its modest design, the orphanage was alive with quiet movement muffled conversations, the sound of pages turning somewhere in the distance, and the faint clatter of dishes being put away.

  They walked through the halls, the floorboards creaking softly beneath their steps, until they reached the heart of the orphanage, an open courtyard where life seemed to gather. Towering trees stood like silent guardians around a long wooden table, their leaves whispering in the wind. The setting sun cast golden hues over the gathered children, about eighteen in total, they were all younger then Nero, after all Nero and Delilah were the first children viser brought here.

  Unlike them, most of the others didn't train to become stronger not as much as Nero and Delilah did at least. They just wanted to enjoy life, and most their personalities reflected that.

  Viser had once been a noble, but he left that life behind after losing his wife. Taking his only son, Nemsus, he settled in the northeast of the empire, far from the politics and expectations of his former status.

  He was no ordinary man. A seasoned warrior, he had fought in many wars and reached the rank of Dominus, a step above Ascendant. His skill in swordsmanship and his vast knowledge were unquestionable.

  When he took in Nero and Delilah, it didn’t take long for them to start training under him. A few months after their arrival, they began practicing with him daily, rarely missing a session. They understood all too well how important strength was in this world, and under Viser’s guidance, they grew sharper with each passing day.

  ....

  "You’re late," a voice called out.

  Viser stood at the head of the table, arms crossed, his face cold and unreadable as his sharp gaze landed on Nero and Delilah.

  "Sorry," they said in unison.

  His expression softened instantly, like a breeze passing through. With a small shake of his head, he sighed. "Take your places."

  There was no real bite to hi

  There was no real bite to his words, just the usual reminder.

  Nero and Delilah slipped into their seats without another word. Around them, the younger kids barely held back their grins, some kicking their feet under the table, others exchanging glances like they had just witnessed something grand.

  Viser had always put a lot of importance on manners, but no one missed the way his eyes softened whenever they all sat together.

  Nero’s gaze found Nemsus’s across the table. A knowing smirk played at his lips, but he didn’t say anything. After all, here, manners came first.

  And so, they ate in silence, the rustling leaves above and the distant sounds of their home.

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