The Essence Flow-Chapter 121: Poison In Perfume
As Deyar stepped onto the arena platform, his aura coalesced—subtle waves of cold blooming outward in slow pulses. He looked calm, unreadable. The kind of fighter who smiled after he already won.
And across from him—
Sera Vellmont appeared.
No fanfare. No flashy flare. Just a shadow in motion.
Her dark outfit clung like midnight, and when the wind shifted, faint hints of crimson shimmered along her hair like blood under moonlight. Her silver eyes scanned Deyar like he was already halfway dissected.
Up in the stands, Len stiffened.
Her fingers tightened on her armrest. Her voice was low. Bitter.
“I hope you lose.”
Sylra turned, caught the venom in her tone. “You really don’t like her, huh?”
“She’s poison wrapped in perfume,” Len muttered. “I hope he freezes her in place and walks off.”
Sylra raised an eyebrow. “She’s the one who danced with Towan last year, right? At the ball?”
“…Yeah,” Towan admitted, scratching the back of his neck.
“You
danced
with her?” Elliot nearly choked. “Wait—you danced
twice
that night?!”
Towan looked away. “It was just a ball. People were dancing.”
Elliot jabbed a finger at him. “You
hate
formal events. You’d rather fight a wyvern than waltz—and you did it
twice?!
”
“I was trying to be polite.”
“Sure thing, bro. You got good game, I gotta say.” The last line was low, meant only for Towan.
Towan elbowed him in the ribs without looking.
Down in the arena, Sera turned—just slightly.
Her eyes flicked up through the crowd, and for a moment, they met his.
She winked.
Towan frowned. “I still… don’t get her.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll go easy on you,”
Deyar said, offering a confident smile as he looked at Sera.
Her face didn’t change.
“I’d appreciate that, sweetie,”
she replied, her silver eyes sharp and unreadable.
The choice of words made Deyar take a subtle step back—but before he could respond, Kaelin’s voice cut through the air.
“Begin.”
Sera looked, for all the world, like someone who had
accidentally wandered into the arena
and was too polite to leave.
Across from her, Deyar Vellis stood focused—pale hair dusted with frost, thin trails of mist curling from his fingers. The temperature dropped immediately.
With a flick of his wrist, he launched a set of ice-bladed projectiles toward her. Blunt-edged, of course—non-lethal for the exam.
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(How thoughtful…)
her mind wandered.
She blinked, and took a single step to the side.
All five blades missed her by inches.
Some students chuckled.
“She just got lucky.”
“She won’t dodge the next wave.”
Deyar's eyes narrowed.
(Did she know where they’d land?)
“I guess I’ll have to try harder,”
he said.
“Go ahead,”
Sera answered, meeting his gaze—her voice calm, her eyes digging deeper than comfort allowed.
The next wave hit faster: a spiraling line of jagged icicles spinning low across the ground.
Sera turned, half-tripped, dropped to one knee—just in time to let the attack sweep behind her.
From above, Kaelin narrowed her eyes.
(Does she have some innate talent for dodging?)
Deyar’s lips pressed into a line.
(You won’t have the same luck now.)
The mist around him flared. His control slipped—just a bit.
Sera’s smile widened.
He moved faster.
Twin arcs of frost-trailing slashes crossed the floor, followed by a spike from
below
—meant to punish upward dodges.
Sera twisted. Slipped.
Fell
—landing exactly between the attacks.
She gasped.
“Oh—sorry—!”
A whisper from the crowd:
“She’s apologizing?!”
Towan blinked.
“Is she even using Essentia?”
“No flare. No chant. Not even a pulse,”
Sylra muttered.
“She’s just… slipping around death.”
“She isn’t doing so bad,”
Alira added.
“And she’s not making any mistakes.”
Deyar’s frustration finally started to show. His stance changed—firmer, tenser. He extended both arms and drew Essentia directly from his core.
A slow, rolling mist poured from him, curling across the arena floor in a wide circle—designed to numb limbs and freeze footing. It was his specialty. His win condition.
Even Professor Kaelin shifted where she stood, her breath visible in the cold.
But Sera?
Unaffected.
She stood still, the frost swirling harmlessly around her boots.
Deyar noticed—and it
bothered him
.
(How is she not freezing? I can tell her body is cold… but she’s not reacting.)
Deyar looked dead serious now, anger rising beneath his cool exterior.
“Let’s finish this.”
From the stands, Len scoffed, her voice venomous.
“That lucky witch… How is she dodging
everything?
”
Towan glanced at Elliot.
“Damn. She really
hates
her.”
Elliot raised a brow. “Should we be worried for
Deyar
?”
Back in the arena, Deyar pressed his palms together.
His Essentia expanded, blanketing the floor in a rolling mist. A field of control. From here, with enough focus, he could strike from
any angle
. He just needed a few seconds to charge it—
And Sera gave them to him. Happily.
The spears formed silently from vapor—sharp and fast. Four of them, from different angles, with
velocity
even Jyn would’ve had to
dodge
, not counter.
Sera tilted her head.
“So... when are you attacking?”
she asked, watching Deyar like he was the one being tested.
His hands were still together, focusing, brows furrowed.
“Are you forfeiting?”
she added with a smile—mocking and tilted, just enough to show teeth.
FWIP—
The first spear
fired from behind
—nearly invisible in the fog.
It
missed
.
“What?”
Deyar’s disbelief cracked through the haze. His control slipped.
“Yeah, are you giving up or…?”
Sera said sweetly, stepping forward—
And stopping
just before
the second spear impaled the tile ahead of her.
The third and fourth spears launched simultaneously—faster, sharper, aimed to
finish
this.
Sera turned. Tilted her head casually. Glanced up at the crowd—
And
stepped between them like she already knew the angle.
Gasps erupted from the stands.
“She’s not even looking!”
“She
walked through
four strikes!”
Deyar’s face twisted, restraint gone.
“You little—!”
His stance shifted. He dropped the mist and prepared to lunge, abandoning range for brute force.
He took one step forward.
“That’s enough.”
Kaelin’s voice cracked through the arena like a whip.
The mist dissipated. The heat returned.
Deyar froze, fists clenched.
Sera, still in the center, let her shoulders drop as if she were
tired.
She looked toward Kaelin.
“Oh. Did I pass?”
Kaelin’s voice was flat as ever.
“Results will be posted tomorrow. Theoretical and practical.”
She added with a small wave of dismissal,
“You may go.”
“Thank you.”
Sera bowed her head—polite, calm, just a little breathless. Like she’d barely scraped through.
She walked off without so much as a glance back at Deyar.
Chapter 121: Poison In Perfume
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