The Villainess is my fiance: But she is gentle towards me

Chapter 84: Chapter: 84 Father vs Son [2]


Vivian stepped back, realizing that even the concentrated light element couldn't stop his father.

"It's difficult…" he muttered under his breath, forcing his trembling legs to move forward.

His horns began to glow again, but this time the light carried a strange mix, two elements swirling together in unstable harmony.

"Light," he whispered as he charged toward his father, his horns shining brighter with every step.

When he was about fifty meters away, he shouted, "Lightning!"

Bolts of electricity gathered at the tips of his horns, crackling with power.

In an instant, he closed the distance and swung his sword down with all his strength.

Clang!

His father easily blocked the strike, barely moving.

Before Vivian could react, his father's leg flashed out, kicking him again in the same spot as before.

Thuk.

Vivian's body flew through the air, pain shooting through his ribs.

But before he hit the ground, he twisted midair, slashing downward.

A burst of compressed air exploded from his blade, pushing him back toward his father like a speeding arrow.

Energy flared around his horns once more.

This time, he didn't hesitate.

He aimed straight ahead and fired the beam he had been gathering, pure light mixed with roaring lightning.

The blinding flash rushed forward, cutting through the air toward his father, whose eyes finally narrowed as he raised his sword to meet it.

His father didn't use anything extravagant.

He simply raised his sword and whispered a single word, "Lightning."

The moment the word left his lips, arcs of lightning began to coil around his blade, crackling with terrifying power.

Vivian had used two elements combined, pushing his body beyond its limits, but the lightning that gathered around Vined's sword was on a completely different level, at least twenty times stronger than Vivian's attack.

Boom!

The instant Vined's sword met the concentrated blast of light and lightning, a massive explosion tore through the field.

The ground shook, dust and wind scattering in all directions.

Yet Vined didn't move an inch.

His eyes remained calm, almost gentle, as he looked at his son.

"It's my turn now, son," he said quietly, lightning still dancing along his sword's edge.

Vivian stood still, taking a few deep gulps of air to steady his breathing.

He had thought that his last attack would at least buy him some time.

But his father had shown why he was called a pseudo-grandmaster, effortlessly destroying the combined elements as if they were nothing.

Even so, Vivian didn't lose heart.

He stretched out his hand, gathering a blazing ball of fire in his palm.

Then he infused it with the properties of air, compressing and feeding the flames until they grew fiercer and larger.

If anyone else had tried such a thing, their arm would've been torn apart by the unstable energy.

But thanks to his Vehemoth physique, Vivian could push his body beyond its natural limits, doing what others would call impossible.

The fireball swelled until it roared like a miniature sun, and Vivian's eyes hardened with determination.

He took a step forward, ready to charge at his father—

—but before he could even move, a shadow flickered.

His father appeared right in front of him, silent and composed, his sword already raised.

"Damn," Vivian muttered, hastily withdrawing the fireball before it exploded in his hand.

He barely managed to bring up his sword in time to block the incoming strike.

Boom!

Vined's sword came down like the wrath of the heavens, slamming into Vivian's blade with a force that shook the ground.

The impact sent him flying backward like a rag doll, his body crashing into the dirt.

"Cough… cough…"

Vivian spat out a mouthful of blood, his vision spinning from the sheer power behind that single blow.

His arms trembled, barely able to keep him upright.

He didn't even get a moment to recover.

In the next instant, his father was already in front of him again, fast, silent, and unstoppable.

This time, Vined didn't use his sword.

He clenched his fist and drove it straight into Vivian's stomach with full force.

Boom!

The punch landed like a thunderclap, and Vivian's body was hurled through the air once more before crashing hard into the ground.

His sword slipped from his grasp, spinning across the dirt before coming to rest several meters away.

"Tsk."

Vined clicked his tongue, his calm gaze falling on the sword lying on the ground.

From the crowd, a sharp stare was fixed on him, but he didn't bother to look back.

Right now, nothing mattered more than teaching his son the lesson he needed, even if it meant being harsh.

He stepped forward, eyes narrowing slightly.

The annoyance wasn't from anger but disappointment.

"Remember this, son," he said, his tone steady but cold. "Never lose your grip on your weapon, no matter what happens."

He picked up the fallen sword and turned it in his hand, his expression softening for just a moment.

It was the same blade he had given Vivian when the boy was still small, back when he could barely lift it.

But sentiment had no place in battle.

Without hesitation, Vined threw the sword out of the arena.

The metallic clang echoed sharply in the silence that followed.

"Take this as a lesson," he said quietly, eyes fixed on his son.

Vivian didn't show any displeasure.

He forced himself to stand, his legs shaking, pain burning through his stomach.

For a moment, he thought he might pass out, but he couldn't.

Not yet. He wasn't even halfway done.

"Yes, Father… I understand," he said through clenched teeth.

Slamming his foot into the ground, he shot forward.

Flames gathered at his hands, forming long, spear-like lances of fire that burned with violent heat.

"Whosh! Whosh!"

He hurled them one after another, each one leaving a trail of blazing light as it tore through the air toward Vined.

But Vivian didn't stop there.

Lightning began crackling across his body, wrapping him in a storm of energy.

His speed surged, his movements blurring as his long hair fluttered behind him, the faint metallic hum of his horns echoing through the arena.

Vined moved as if the world itself slowed around him, slipping past the incoming fire spears like they were nothing more than drifting embers.

In a heartbeat, he was in front of Vivian.

Vivian clenched his fists, darkness gathering and swirling around them like smoke.

He threw a punch with all his strength, aiming straight for his father's chest.

But Vined caught the blow effortlessly with his right hand.

Without a hint of hesitation, he thrust his sword forward.

Chick.

The blade pierced deep into Vivian's shoulder, the impact shaking his whole body.

He staggered back, clutching the wound as blood poured freely down his arm, staining the ground beneath him.

The pain was sharp, but Vivian didn't flinch.

His expression didn't twist, his body didn't tremble, he just stood there, silent and steady, his breathing rough but controlled.

Vined's eyes widened slightly.

'What did he go through at the academy to become like this?'

The son he remembered would've fallen to the ground, crying out in pain, but now, even with a wound that reached his bones, he didn't even twitch.

For the first time in the match, Vined hesitated.

A strange heaviness filled his chest. 'Was sending him to the academy truly the right choice?'

His gaze softened, torn between pride and regret.

He couldn't tell whether he should feel proud that his son had grown this strong, or sad that he had learned to endure pain like it meant nothing.

Meanwhile, in the crowd, Elena clenched her fists tightly, her nails digging into her palms as her eyes filled with pain.

Anger burned in her chest, how could it not?

Watching her husband beat their son so mercilessly made her blood boil.

But beneath that anger was something heavier, something that felt like loss.

Throughout the spar, Vivian had taken hit after devastating hit, any one of which could have knocked out an ordinary person.

The Vivian she knew, the one who laughed easily and wore his heart on his sleeve, would have fallen long ago, especially after that blow to the stomach.

Yet here he was, standing through it all, not even flinching.

No cry of pain, no sign of weakness, just silent determination.

Elena's anger faded into sorrow as she watched him.

The strength he showed wasn't just growth, it was the kind of strength born from hardship.

And that realization made her heart ache more than anything her husband could ever do in the arena.

Elena couldn't take it anymore.

Her chest felt tight as she turned to Charlotte, who had been watching the spar with calm, unreadable eyes.

"Charlotte… at least you can tell me the truth, can't you?"

Elena's voice trembled slightly, the pain barely hidden beneath her words.

Charlotte blinked, startled by the sudden question.

She turned to face Elena, her expression soft but steady.

"Mother, I could tell you," she said quietly, "but this isn't the right time. And besides… he wouldn't want that either."

Elena's eyes wavered.

From those few words, she understood more than she wanted to.

Something must have happened, something harsh enough to change Vivian completely.

The thought made her throat tighten as she reached out, pleading.

"Please, Charlotte… you think of me as your mother, don't you? Then please, if that's true, tell me what really happened to him."

Charlotte's calm expression finally cracked.

Her gaze flickered, a trace of conflict flashing in her eyes.

For a moment, she seemed to hesitate, as if fighting with herself.

Then she took a slow breath, her voice trembling just slightly.

"I do consider you my mother," she said at last, "and that's exactly why… I can't tell you right now."

Her tone was gentle, but there was finality in it, an unshakable refusal that made it clear no amount of pleading would change her mind.

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