The Do-Over System:My Beloved is the Villain! - Chapter 65

Chapter 65: 02/11- Ambush Alert!

Father Seraphiel’s eyes narrowed as he turned to Skye with a fierce resolve, his voice low but filled with an undeniable challenge. “Let’s settle this with a duel,” he said, his tone brokering no argument. “A duel will prove once and for all whether you truly understand the weight of what you’re trying to do. If you’re so confident in your path, then face me and show your resolve.” His eyes flickered towards Leona, the unspoken threat hanging in the air. “This is not something that can be decided with words alone.”

Skye stood tall, his stance relaxed but his eyes sharp. He could sense the tension in the air, the buildup of the fight that was inevitable now. He had known this was coming, but it didn’t matter—he wasn’t about to back down. “Very well,” he replied coolly. “I’m not one to shy away from a challenge.” The grin that spread across his face was more calculated than sincere, his dark energy crackling faintly around him. He was ready for anything, even if it meant confronting Father Seraphiel in a duel to the death.

Leona, still standing by Skye’s side, glanced between the two men. Her heart raced at the sudden shift in energy; it felt as though the world was tilting, and she was caught in the middle of a storm. “This isn’t necessary,” she protested, stepping forward, but both men ignored her, locked in their own fierce standoff.

As the tension thickened, a sudden rustling from the nearby woods broke the silence. The ground trembled beneath their feet as they heard the distinct sounds of movement—footsteps approaching at an alarming rate. The air shifted, charged with a new energy, as the hairs on the back of Skye’s neck stood on end. Something was wrong. “Get ready,” he whispered to Leona, his eyes scanning the surroundings. His senses were on high alert.

Without warning, a group of bandits emerged from the trees, their figures cloaked in shadow. They were armed with daggers, swords, and crude weapons, their eyes glinting with malice as they surrounded the group. It was clear they weren’t here for any friendly discussion. The leader, a tall man with a jagged scar running across his face, stepped forward, sneering at the group.

“Well, well,” the bandit leader drawled, his voice mocking. “What do we have here? A priest, a rogue, and the Oracle herself? This is a lucky day.” He glanced over at the father, his eyes scanning Seraphiel’s robes with a smirk. “You’ve got a lot of fine goods on you, old man. Hand them over, and no one has to get hurt.”

Father Seraphiel’s eyes flashed with indignation, but he remained calm. “Do you think you can just walk up and take what doesn’t belong to you?” he said, his voice steady and powerful. “I have no time for bandits. If you want a fight, you’ll get one.” His hand gripped the hilt of his sword, the motion fluid and deliberate.

Before anyone could react, the bandits lunged, their weapons raised. Skye reacted immediately, his body flowing into a combat stance as his dark mana surged around him. He drew his blade with a swift motion, the edge gleaming ominously in the low light. Leona, too, stood her ground, her eyes scanning the bandits with a focused intensity. The Oracle’s powers were stirring within her, but she held back, not wanting to reveal everything too soon.

Father Seraphiel stepped forward to meet the first wave of attackers, his sword flashing in a series of graceful, deadly arcs. He moved with the precision of a seasoned warrior, his blade cutting through the air with incredible speed. Bandits fell one by one, their crude swords no match for his expertly honed skill. Each strike was a testament to his years of discipline, each movement calculated to disarm or incapacitate.

Skye, however, had a different approach. His movements were less traditional, fluid and unpredictable as he danced around his opponents, his dark energy swirling with each strike. He wasn’t just fighting physically—he was using his mana to disorient his enemies, throwing them off balance with bursts of magic that surged through the air. The bandits hesitated, trying to counter his unpredictable movements, but they were no match for his agility and raw power.

Leona, though not a combatant by nature, knew how to hold her own. She called upon her Oracle abilities, using her innate connection to the energies of the world around her to create a protective shield. The air shimmered with the magic as it surrounded her, a soft, golden glow radiating from her form. It wasn’t a destructive power, but it was effective, deflecting the bandits’ attacks as she focused on staying out of harm’s way.

As the battle raged on, Father Seraphiel’s eyes never left Skye. Despite the chaos unfolding around them, he was intent on finishing what had been started. “You may be skilled, Skye Drakonis,” he called out over the clash of weapons. “But you’re still an enemy. And I’ll see that you are stopped before you destroy everything we’ve worked for.”

Skye didn’t respond right away. He was too focused on the fight, too immersed in the thrill of the combat. But he knew the priest’s words weren’t just empty threats—there was a deep conviction behind them. Still, he couldn’t afford to let Father Seraphiel’s ideals stand in his way, not when Leona’s future was at stake.

The battle was escalating, and the bandits were beginning to fall back, regrouping in an attempt to overwhelm them. Skye and Father Seraphiel were evenly matched, their skills pushing the limits of what the other could handle. Each strike, each dodge, was a testament to their years of training, but neither was willing to give an inch. The outcome of this duel, it seemed, was still in the balance.

Leona, standing at the edge of the chaos, could feel the weight of the situation pressing down on her. She was torn between her duty to the Oracle and her feelings for Skye, caught between the past and a future she wasn’t sure she was ready for. “Please,” she whispered to herself, closing her eyes for a moment. “Please, let this end.” But the battle showed no signs of stopping.

One of the bandits, a brutish man with a scarred face, grinned menacingly as he approached Skye, his sword gleaming in the dim light. “Give us what you have, rich boy,” he sneered, pointing his blade at Skye’s chest. “I’m sure you’ve got something worth taking. You don’t just walk around here without a bounty on your head.” His voice was thick with menace as his companions circled around, eager to close in.

Skye’s eyes flickered with frustration. He didn’t have time for this. His attention was split between defending himself and the other threats around him. “Shit!” he cursed under his breath, realizing he had forgotten to bring any money on this trip. It was always one thing or another—his mind was far too occupied with Leona and his current situation. “I forgot to bring money!” he muttered, more to himself than to the bandit. It wasn’t like he didn’t have resources at his disposal, but money wasn’t what he had been planning to use here.

The bandit’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “You think I care about your excuses?” he sneered. “You’re in the wrong place at the wrong time, friend.” The man advanced, slashing at Skye’s side with a quick, brutal swipe of his sword. The movement was almost too fast to follow, but Skye ducked just in time, the blade missing him by mere inches. The sound of metal scraping through the air was deafening.

Skye chuckled darkly, his gaze flickering between the bandit and the others who were beginning to close in around him. “I’m afraid you’ve misunderstood the situation,” he said coolly, his voice like ice. With a flick of his wrist, a surge of dark energy pulsed through him. His hand crackled with dark mana, forming an ethereal dagger of shadow that he wielded with precision. “You want money? I can give you something far more valuable.”

The bandit took a step back, confused, but Skye’s grin only widened. “You see, the thing about people like me,” Skye continued, his eyes gleaming with dangerous amusement, “is that we’re never really without resources.” Without another word, Skye swung his shadowy dagger, the weapon cutting through the air like a blade through silk. The bandit attempted to parry with his sword, but the dark energy wrapped around the man’s blade, rendering it useless as it shattered into pieces.

The rest of the bandits, seeing their leader’s weapon destroyed so easily, hesitated for just a moment. Skye didn’t waste the opportunity. In an instant, his form blurred with unnatural speed, and the bandits were scattered, fleeing into the trees in fear. He stood calmly, the shadowy dagger fading from his hand as he took a slow breath, the tension of the battle lifting.

“That was a little too close for comfort,” Skye muttered, his gaze flicking over to Leona, who had watched the entire exchange with wide, surprised eyes. She was still processing the turn of events, her hands clutched at the fabric of her dress as she took in the sudden violence. Skye straightened, his grin returning. “You should know better than to underestimate me, Leona.”