The Guardian They Left for Dead

Chapter 9: A Sword Without Honor

Asher’s face twisted beneath Jayden’s grip.

Only moments ago, the whole colosseum had praised him as Skyreach’s greatest talent. Now he lay pinned beneath the man he had spent years trying to surpass.

“I refuse to lose to you!”

Frost exploded from his body.

Asher tore himself free and stumbled back, pouring everything he had left into one final spell. A dark seal opened above the platform, and frozen lightning gathered within it until the air began to crack.

Several elders rose at once.

“Asher, stop!”

He ignored them.

“If I cannot surpass you,” he snarled, blood running down his chin, “then I will bury you!”

The seal broke.

A pillar of frost and lightning crashed toward Jayden, freezing the platform in its path.

Jayden did not block it.

He stepped through the storm.

The frost split around his body, and before Asher could understand what had happened, Jayden was already standing before him.

The back of his hand struck Asher’s chest and he flew across the arena and smashed through two stone pillars. He landed beneath the rubble with blood spreading from his mouth, then went still.

Silence swallowed the colosseum.

Jayden lowered his hand and walked toward him.

“Stop!”

A powerful voice came from the highest platform.

Dante Jian rose slowly from his seat, wearing the robes that once belonged to Jayden’s father. Several elders stood behind him, but his gaze remained fixed on Jayden.

“Have you lost your mind?” Dante demanded. “You return after disappearing for years and immediately try to murder your own cousin before the entire kingdom?”

Jayden stopped and looked up at him then he laughed quietly.

“What a beautiful mask.”

Dante’s eyes narrowed. “What did you say?”

“You murdered my parents and stole my father’s position.” Jayden glanced at Asher’s unconscious body. “Then your silk-fed pup abducted my fiancée and tried to make her his mistress.”

His gaze returned to Dante.

“And now you want to lecture me about family?”

Shock moved through the crowd.

“Murdered his parents?”

“We were told the former clan head died in the fire.”

“Is Dante being accused of taking House Jian by force?”

Dante waited for the whispers to spread before shaking his head with a disappointed expression.

“You vanished without a trace, and now you return speaking like a madman. Your parents’ deaths were investigated. No murderer was ever found.”

He placed one hand against his chest.

“When my brother died, I grieved more deeply than anyone. I held House Jian together while you abandoned it, yet the first thing you do after returning is slander the man who protected your inheritance.”

“Protected?” Jayden repeated.

A faint smile touched his lips.

“You wear my father’s robes, sit in his seat and feed your son with what you stole from his grave.”

His eyes turned cold.

“You did not protect his inheritance. You digested it.”

The colosseum became quiet and Dante’s face tightened.

“You truly have gone mad.” He raised one hand. “Since my brother is no longer here to discipline you, I will do it in his place.”

“Ryder.”

A man stepped out from behind the elders.

Gasps followed him.

Ryder Vale was one of Skyreach’s three greatest swordsmen. He wore no armour, only a dark robe and a long sword at his waist, yet the pressure surrounding him made the nearby warriors instinctively move aside.

Years ago, he had also been Jayden’s swordsmanship master.

Ryder descended onto the platform and stood between Jayden and Asher.

The crowd’s confidence quickly returned.

“Ryder trained him.”

“A student may surpass others, but defeating his own master is different.”

“Jayden’s luck ends here.”

Ryder looked at Jayden without warmth and Jayden studied him for a moment, then remembered the night House Jian burned.

Ryder had not been injured or trapped outside the estate.

He had simply vanished.

“The night my family was slaughtered, you never appeared,” Jayden said.

Ryder remained calm.

“My father placed the safety of House Jian in your hands. My mother treated you like family. Yet when they needed your sword, its sheath was empty.”

Jayden’s gaze sharpened.

“Did Dante purchase your absence?”

A murmur moved through the stands and Ryder gave a faint smile.

“Your father was a good man, but goodness does not make a capable leader. He ignored warnings, wasted family resources on weak branches and refused to reward those carrying the weight of the clan.”

“So you abandoned him.”

“I chose the future of House Jian,” Ryder replied. “Dante understood that talent must be valued and strength must be rewarded. Your father did not.”

Dante’s eyes flickered.

“Enough, Ryder,” he said sharply. “You do not owe explanations to someone spreading madness.”

The warning was clear.

Ryder lowered his head briefly. “As you wish, Clan Head.”

Jayden saw the exchange and laughed.

“So that is the story you tell yourself.”

Ryder looked back at him.

“You call greed foresight because the truth sounds too ugly.”

His smile faded.

“I once respected you. It seems children can mistake height for greatness.”

Anger flashed through Ryder’s eyes, but he kept his hand away from his sword.

“You are still young and arrogant. Since I once taught you, I will forgive this insult. Surrender now, and I may persuade Lord Dante to leave you alive.”

Jayden tilted his head.

“You abandoned the people who trusted you, dressed your greed as wisdom and now bow to the thief who paid you.”

His gaze dropped to Ryder’s sword.

“You have changed hands so often that even a market coin has more dignity.”

Several people looked away to hide their reactions and Ryder’s expression hardened.

“You always had a sharp tongue.”

“No.” Jayden’s voice remained calm. “You simply have no honour left to protect you from it.”

Ryder drew his sword and wind exploded across the platform.

“Then let me see how much of my teaching you still remember.”

He moved.

His blade cut once, but seven arcs of compressed wind formed around Jayden, sealing every direction of escape.

“Sevenfold Sky Cleave!”

The stone platform split beneath the force and the crowd recoiled, expecting Jayden to be torn apart, but he did not retreat.

He stepped toward Ryder, one step then another.

His body slipped between the first two wind blades. He lowered his shoulder beneath the third and turned past the fourth as it cut through the edge of his cloak.

Ryder’s eyes changed and Jayden had entered the narrow gap within his technique.

The one place the sword could not reach without breaking its own rhythm.

“You taught me something years ago,” Jayden said and struck Ryder’s elbow with two fingers.

Ryder’s arm jerked off course, and the remaining wind blades crashed harmlessly into the empty platform.

“Never fight a sword where it is strongest.”

Jayden caught Ryder’s wrist, turned with his momentum and drove his sword into the stone.

The blade buried itself halfway to the hilt, Ryder tried to pull it free but Jayden stepped on the flat of the weapon.

Crack!

The sword snapped beneath his boot and Ryder stared at the broken hilt in disbelief.

Jayden looked at him coldly.

“You taught me how to find a flaw.”

His palm struck Ryder beneath the ribs.

“But you never learned how to remove your own.”

The force lifted Ryder from the ground and sent him crashing across the arena. He struck the wall beside Asher and fell into the rubble, blood pouring from his mouth.

The broken sword hilt slipped from his fingers and the colosseum fell silent again.

Jayden had not overwhelmed Ryder’s strongest technique.

He had read it, entered its only weakness and defeated its master with the very lesson Ryder once taught him.