"You know, most people's idea of a good time doesn't involve floating death platforms," Takumi muttered, casually twirling his scythe as the stone floor beneath them crumbled like gravity was just a suggestion now.
Liene gave him that infuriating half-smile. "Really? You don't strike me as the 'play-it-safe' type."
"Right, because nothing says fun like—" The floor lurched. Takumi dropped into a crouch, raising his scythe just as a rogue fire spell tore across the space. It blasted past him, singing his arm. "—like dodgeball, but with actual combustion!"
Cool magic wrapped around his burn—Liene's, soft and practiced. She reached over and pinched a smoldering lock of his hair.
He flinched. "Hey!"
"It was smoking," she said, brushing it away like lint. "You're welcome."
Takumi scowled. "Is this the part where I thank you for not letting me die from someone else's terrible aim?"
"No need to be dramatic," Liene said, like they weren't mid-air on a crumbling battlefield. "It builds reflexes."
"This whole place is building my trauma."
Before she could reply, the ground cracked open. A massive wooden claw—more twisted tree than hand—burst upward between them.
They dove apart, Takumi rolling back to his feet.
"Great," he muttered. "Tree hands. Because regular ones were too pedestrian."
The grotesque tree-limb didn't belong to the arena—it belonged to another student, their arm grotesquely stretched, twisted by some puppetmaster spell gone sideways. But that wasn't even the weirdest part.
No, that honor went to the Nekara sprinting across the wooden monstrosity like it was a runway. All feline grace and dagger-point intent, stiletto gleaming as it charged straight at them.
Takumi groaned. "Oh, come on. Who let the murder-cat loose?"
Liene was already in motion, blade arcing up with a whistle. She met the Nekara's strike mid-air, steel-on-steel, and twisted the momentum—redirecting both blades into the tree-limb. The wood shuddered violently, and somewhere off to the side, its controller cried out. Students scattered like startled pigeons.
Takumi sidestepped a flailing branch. "Any other surprises? Giant rabbits? Tap-dancing dragons?"
"Boy!" Liene snapped—her voice suddenly all edge, no sugar.
That one look she gave him was a full sentence: Focus.
"Yeah, yeah…" Takumi readied his scythe, sighing. "I get it. Less sass, more slash."
The limb bucked wildly—like it had regrets. Most people would've backed off.
Takumi sprinted forward.
He landed hard on the limb, boots thudding against bark. The surface writhed beneath him like a demon rodeo. One hand slapped down for balance while his scythe swept wide—part weapon, part tightrope pole.
"Yep," he muttered. "This feels safe and wise."
As he surfed his way down the thrashing limb, his grin widened—the kind that usually ended in something on fire. The student controlling the arm finally spotted him. Their face shifted from confusion to why-is-this-happening as they realized they had a very determined idiot sliding down their spell.
"Hey!" Takumi called out. "Guess you could say I'm really branching out in my tactics!"
From across the chaos, Liene barked a laugh—part amusement, part did you seriously just say that? Her blade blurred, strike for strike with the Nekara's razor stiletto. Still, a smile tugged at her lips.
The tree-limb chose that moment to whip upward.
Takumi was launched skyward like a badly planned physics experiment.
He pinwheeled through the air, flailing like a startled cat, before the grin snapped back into place. With a magician's flair, he pulled a detonator from his coat. "Surprise!"
A chain of explosions tore along the arm behind him—each blast revealing the bombs he'd planted mid-surf. The final one hit its mark, catching the student in the shoulder and sending them flying, unconscious, across the arena floor.
Takumi landed with absurd flourish—one knee bent, arm outstretched in an elaborate bow, scythe posed like a stage prop. He looked like he was waiting for applause.
The Nekara flinched at the blast just long enough.
Liene kicked upward, launching her opponent into the air. With a sharp pull, her blade's tether reeled her skyward. She flipped mid-air—graceful, fluid—and her heel crashed into the Nekara's chest like a wrecking ball in boots. The cat-like figure slammed into the ground, cratering the stone before vanishing in a shimmer of defeat.
Takumi sidled up beside her as they watched both opponents blink away into the bleachers.
"So that happened," he said.
"Indeed it did," Liene replied, her voice tinged with that musical lilt that made everything sound like a private joke.
Their eyes met—his unsure, hers unreadable. A beat passed.
Takumi looked away. Liene turned slightly, just enough to hide the smile breaking across her face.
"Would you stop being so…" he waved a hand in her direction, failing to finish the sentence.
"We should move," Liene said, nodding toward the steadily collapsing edge of the platform. "Unless you'd like to test your landing skills again."
"Yeah, no thanks," Takumi muttered, already turning. "One gravity stunt per day's my limit."
They took off together, sprinting from the crumbling edge—leaving behind two knocked-out opponents, a trail of smoke, and whatever that almost-moment had been.
The arena cracked again—another pair gone in a shimmer of light. Sixty left.
Claire stumbled. Not dramatically, just in the way someone does when their limbs betray them. A half-step turned full-spin, complete with a regret-laced twirl that served no purpose except personal embarrassment.
Mid-turn, she muttered under her breath. "That didn't happen. No one saw that."
Kazuki, beside her, didn't say a word.
Of course he didn't.
She tried to sync up with his stride, hands half-raised like the air itself might take a swing at her. Every few steps, she glanced upward, like she expected a piano to fall from the sky.
Kazuki's gaze lifted.
"Duck," he said. Crisp. Flat. Like a label.
Claire blinked. "What? Duck how? Like the verb or—"
She dropped before the question was finished, knees hitting the floor in a clumsy half-scrape. Her arms flung over her head on instinct, just in time for something absurd to pass overhead.
A shadow. Round. Yellow.
It crested above like a giant sun-shaped omen.
And then it landed. Not with thunder, but with a soft, weightless wobble.
A rubber duck the size of a refrigerator stared at them—emotionless, uncanny, plastic. Its bright orange beak caught the light as it tilted its head.
Claire just stared. "You see it too, right?"
Still crouched, she felt around blindly—her hand met her bow. She gripped it like a lifeline.
In one desperate motion, she twisted up to one knee. Drew.
The string stretched taut—clean and sharp—and for a moment, there was nothing but the line between her breath and the duck's face. Her hand trembled.
The arrow loosed.
It cut the air with a practiced spiral, clipped the duck just beneath its eye. Enough to make its oversized head pitch backward—off-balance, stunned.
Claire's eyes widened. "OhmygoshIhitit—wait I hit it?!"
She immediately ducked again. Flattened herself to the floor like she could sink into it. "Nope. Nooope. Not doing ducks."
Kazuki stepped past her, silent.
One motion—simple, precise. Sword out.
The duck didn't squeak. It didn't roar. It just… split. A clean horizontal slice, like a fruit cut too perfectly.
The pieces puffed out of existence in a slow shimmer.
Claire peeked from under her arm. "...It popped."
Kazuki sheathed his sword. "It was rubber."
She sat up, brushing nonexistent dust from her sleeves. "Still creepy."
She pointed hesitantly at the fading light. "It looked at me. I swear. Like it knew something. Something off."
"Not anymore."
She narrowed her eyes at him. "Do you ever joke? Or do you just go around assassinating nouns for fun?"
Kazuki blinked. "That was a joke."
Claire froze. "Wait—seriously?"
He was already walking again.
"You should become a detective," he added.
Her mouth dropped open. "That was totally sarcasm!"
Silence.
She jogged to catch up, arms flailing a bit. "You've got one face. Just one. Like a sword statue. Capisce?"
Still nothing.
Claire muttered under her breath. "...I'm not wrong."
Above them, unnoticed by Claire, a figure drifted in silence—a tall woman with long violet hair that shimmered faintly, as though catching light from nowhere. She hovered, still and weightless, one gloved hand resting lightly on the brim of her black top hat. Her dark blue coat, unfastened, parted slightly to reveal a pale gray corset etched with silver runes that shimmered and pulsed with an irregular rhythm. On her shoulder, the academy emblem gleamed—slightly embellished beyond protocol.
Her eyes settled on Kazuki. They betrayed nothing. Yet in their stillness was a depth that pressed, as if they saw past the moment—into something shaped by fate, or perhaps memory.
Then, for the briefest instant, her composure faltered: a twitch at the corner of her eye, a near-imperceptible shift in posture. It was gone in a breath. She turned once in place—slow, deliberate—trailing a faint arc of silver in the air before vanishing into a curl of white smoke that smelled faintly of cold metal and something unnamed.
The yellow duck vanished in a matching puff.
Claire stared at the dispersing cloud, waving a hand through it. "Was that—? Did you—? Should we be worried or…?" Her voice dwindled as she turned to Kazuki, who offered no answer.
A sudden tremor ran through the ground. Cracks spread beneath their feet, and the arena floor began to collapse in jagged pieces. The timer read five minutes and thirty seconds.
Claire spun toward Kazuki, still half mid-sentence, gesturing sharply. But he was no longer beside her. "Wait—seriously? We were kinda talking!"
He was already ahead—his steps quiet, deliberate. Blade drawn, he moved through the fray like a current slipping past stone. Blows came at him from all sides and met only air or steel.
Then, just behind him, another form emerged—low to the ground, silent in their approach. A dagger caught the light. It was already in motion.
"W-watch out!" Claire called, her voice cracking in three different places. The warning came out more like a startled hiccup than the sharp alert she'd meant. She fumbled with her bow, nearly dropped it, caught it, fumbled again, then finally managed to steady her grip with a muttered, "Come on, fingers. We've done this before."
But the moment her fingers touched the bowstring, something shifted. Her awkward flailing gave way to practiced precision. One fluid draw—one arrow—clean hit. The dagger clattered to the ground. She twisted as another opponent lunged, raising her bow vertically to catch the blow like a shield.
She stole quick glances at Kazuki between shots, cheeks tinged with pink. "Just assessing the situation," she mumbled, "professional reconnaissance."
He moved like a shadow in motion—no wasted energy, no dramatic flair. Just clean, quiet cuts. The only sound from him was the soft hiss of steel slicing through air.
"A lone wolf," Claire whispered, gaze trailing after Kazuki as he moved like he belonged to some other world.
She tilted her head. "I wonder what goes through his mind… behind all that... elusiveness."
It wasn't just mystery. It was something that made her stomach twist—familiar, somehow. Like déjà vu, but without the memory. Just the weight of it.
She blinked. "Have I met someone like that?"
No name. No face. Just… a feeling.
A long beat.
Then, finally—
"Okay, cool. Mood shift. Love that."
She glanced around, pretending not to be caught talking to herself.
"I'm totally fine. Not spiraling. Not staring. Definitely not narrating my thoughts like I'm in a video game."
She rubbed her temple. "Gosh, I need a reset button. Capisce?"
With one last huff, she spun on her heel. "Okay. Mission: act normal. For real this time. Probably."
A shriek from above cut the moment short. Crows—summoned, not real—dived like blades, feathers sharp as knives.
No more thinking.
Three arrows. Two fingers. One breath.
She fired. The arrows split—high, wide, straight—slicing through the air with practiced rhythm. Screeches burst into mist. The last remnants swirled in front of her until her bowstring flashed blue, cutting through it like a ribbon.
Bow down. Sword drawn. She moved without thinking, feet setting, blade catching the summoner's swing just in time.
Steel met steel. Her arms shook. So did her confidence.
"Crap. Crap. Double crap. With, like… sprinkles."
Her boots scraped against the ground. "Yup. This is definitely not how this scene plays out in the tutorial."
Then—movement.
Kazuki's blade slid between them, quiet as breath, breaking the clash in one clean motion. The summoner staggered.
Claire squeaked—actually squeaked—and stumbled back. Kazuki followed through, knocking the attacker aside with one efficient blow. They crashed to the edge of the arena.
Claire blinked, breathless, brushing her hair from her face—only for it to stick to her lip gloss. She blew at it once. Twice. Three times. Gave up.
"Um… thanks," she mumbled, eyes stuck on a random crack in the floor. Her voice barely made it out. "I… I kinda had it. Like… maybe. Sort of."
Kazuki didn't respond. He didn't even turn.
Claire's shoulders slumped. "Right. Of course you're not gonna say anything."
She ran her fingers along her bowstring, pretending to check the tension.
"…Should've just stayed quiet. Ugh." A soft sigh escaped her. "Why do I always mess this up…"
Her words weren't meant for anyone — barely even for herself.
In that moment, her body tensed — something was wrong.
Before the thought even formed, her fingers were already at her quiver, brushing against the fletching as she spun an arrow into place. She pivoted, bow drawn in one fluid motion—
And found herself aiming straight at Takumi's nose.
"Whoa there, little miss archer!" Takumi's hands flew up, eyes wide — but only for a second before that familiar, smug grin slid into place. "Love the quick-draw, but maybe save it for the actual bad guys?"
Behind him, Liene leaned against a half-crushed pillar, arms crossed, her lips curled in that quiet, knowing smile — the kind that always made Claire feel like she'd tripped over a joke two steps too late.
Claire's eyes widened. "Ack—! Sorry, sorry!" She dropped her bow like it had burned her, nearly fumbling the arrow as it clattered to the ground. "Why do you—how do you—why do you always sneak up like that?! I almost shot your—your face!"
Takumi just chuckled. "You looked worse in the bleachers," Liene added smoothly, voice laced with soft amusement.
Claire hunched a little, blowing a puff of air at a rogue strand of hair that flopped into her face. "Okay, so… maybe that wasn't my most graceful moment. Or second most. Or even, like… top twenty."
She tugged at her sleeve, eyes flicking around the cracked floor. "I mean, not that anyone warned me the floor was gonna start collapsing mid-fight. That would've been nice. Just a little, 'Hey Claire, don't die here,' capisce? No biggie."
She gave a nervous laugh and fiddled with her bow string, tapping it like it was a stress ball. "And then he—someone—just does the whole 'cool and silent' thing while I'm over here trying not to trip over debris and my own shoelace at the same time. Classic."
A pause. Her voice dropped, sheepish. "...Not that I'm complaining. Or watching. I mean, I was watching, but—not like that! I was just—uh—battle awareness?"
She inhaled sharply through her nose, cheeks puffed. "Ugh. Never mind. I'm gonna stop talking now. Starting… now. Probably."
"…Right," Liene murmured, her voice caught somewhere between amused and uncertain. Her eyes shifted toward Takumi — just briefly — as if something flickered behind them. Recognition, maybe. Or memory.
She crouched awkwardly to retrieve her arrow, knocking her knuckles against her bow and then immediately pretending it didn't happen.
"So," she mumbled, barely above a whisper, "you two just... randomly showed up in this flaming death trap, or...?"
"Oh, we've been watching your little parkour routine for a while now," Takumi said, twirling a dagger effortlessly. "Very educational. Especially the part where you almost kissed the floor dodging that fireball."
Claire groaned and dropped her face into her hands. "Ugh. Of course you were. Just fantastic. That's great. I love that for me."
Liene's eyes flicked to the countdown above, that dangerous smile tugging at her lips. "Two minutes left. Enough time for a proper match, wouldn't you say?"
"What?" Claire's head shot up, her voice cracking. "No way! I can barely feel my legs, capisce?! I think my knees are filing for retirement—"
"Well then," Liene purred, her tone sugary sweet but eyes gleaming with mischief, "perhaps we should consult your partner?" She nodded past Claire.
"My partn—wait, what?" Claire spun, only for her boot to catch on a chunk of broken tile. She stumbled with a surprised squawk, arms flailing awkwardly—then froze, mid-panic, as she found herself inches from Kazuki.
He stood silent, motionless, coat fluttering faintly in the breeze like he hadn't moved an inch since the world began. His gaze wasn't even on her, but somehow that made it worse.
"Err… hi," she squeaked, shrinking a little. Her arms slowly lowered like she was defusing herself. "Didn't see you there. At all. That's cool. Love the dramatic entrance, totally normal behavior…"
The sharp whistle of metal sliced through the moment as Liene's kyoketsu shoge began to twirl, the curved blade humming through the air in controlled arcs.
"What do you say, Stoneface?" she cooed, voice like honey, eyes like knives. "Care to make these last minutes interesting?"
Claire's head snapped between them like she was watching a tennis match on fast-forward, her fingers twitching at her sides. Kazuki hadn't moved, hadn't blinked. The silence clung to him like armor, and next to that, Claire felt like a walking tangle of nerves and limbs.
She muttered under her breath, "Right. Of course. He's got the whole 'ominous statue' thing down while I'm over here auditioning for interpretive flailing…"
Takumi shifted his weight, breaking the moment like glass. "Okay, not to be that guy, but…" His fingers tapped a restless beat on his thigh — no smirk, no quip, just real concern slipping through. "Maybe we should—"
"Now, now."
Liene's voice sliced through his words, all sugar and sharpness. Her weapon twirled in smooth arcs, catching stray light like silver thread. "Let's not ruin the tension. After all..." Her eyes flicked to Kazuki, reading his stillness like scripture. "Silence can be so… telling."
Without warning, her kyoketsu shoge hissed through the air — a glint of motion aimed straight at Kazuki.
Steel rang as his blade rose to meet it, one clean motion, no hesitation. The impact turned the weapon's arc aside with practiced ease. The curved blade snapped back through the air, but Liene's fingers were already curling around the rope, catching it mid-flight like she'd rehearsed it a thousand times.
"GYAH—!" Claire shrieked, nearly falling over herself as the clash echoed. She clutched her chest like her heart had staged a mutiny.
Takumi let out a low whistle beside her. "Well," he muttered, inching away, "someone's feeling a little unhinged today."
Liene rolled her shoulder, twirling the shoge into a lazy figure-eight. Her smile curled like smoke, eyes glinting. "Aw, come on, stoneface. You gonna let me poke at that mask forever?"
Kazuki shifted — just barely — blade angled like a mirror catching the sun. His gaze never left her, all calculation and calm.
Claire groaned, dragging a hand down her face. "Oh no. Nope. Nope." But her fingers were already moving, bow in hand like her complaints were just a courtesy warning. One breath — draw — release.
The arrow sliced the air, whizzing inches past Takumi's ear.
"WOAH—!" He jerked back, eyes wide. "Trying to decapitate me twice in one day?" His laugh came out half-hearted, tinged with disbelief. "Seriously, do I owe you money or something?"
With a hiss and a mechanical snap, his scythe unfolded from its compact frame, the blade catching the air in a deliberate arc. He gave it a slow spin before slamming it into the arena floor with a seismic thunk.
The playful air dissolved like mist.
Now it was four stances, four weapons.
Tension wired tight.
A minute and change on the clock.
The arena floor shuddered violently, sending tremors through the fractured stone platform. Claire stumbled but caught herself, eyes scanning the crumbling edges as chunks of debris plummeted into the void below. Around them, the echoes of battle still rang — thirty students locked in chaotic clashes of steel and magic.
Without hesitation, Claire slid her bow onto her back and drew her sword in one clean motion. The moment her boots found grip again, she launched toward Takumi — no hesitation, no awkward fumbling. Just instinct.
He was ready.
Their blades met with a sharp clang, the impact sending a jolt up Claire's arms. Takumi pushed forward with the weight of his scythe, but she held her ground, slipping beneath the arc and sliding past his flank in a blur. Her blade lashed out toward his shoulder — only for him to twist just out of reach, his coat fluttering behind him.
"Heh, don't ya think we're moving a little too fast?" he called over his shoulder, boots skidding against the stone as he turned to face her again.
"Wha—? Huh?" Claire blinked, her momentum faltering mid-stride.
Takumi grinned. "Y'know, maybe dinner first? I'm old-fashioned like that."
The words slammed into her harder than any blade. Her swing wavered, steps stuttering. "I... I— What does that even mean—!?"
He seized the opening. With a quick pivot, Takumi ducked low, sweeping his scythe in a tight arc at her legs.
But Claire's body moved before her mind could catch up.
She leapt.
One foot kicked off his weapon mid-swing, vaulting her upward. Her form twisted mid-air, cloak fluttering as she flipped over him. The moment her boots touched the ground, her sword was already back in its sheath — and her bow was in her hands.
Takumi barely had time to react.
An arrow screamed past his cheek, so close it sliced a strand of hair. A sharp crack split the air as it embedded itself in the stone behind him, the impact echoing like a gunshot.
"Okay," he muttered, patting his belt until his fingers closed around one of his gadgets, "maybe I should stop underestimating you..." He rose from his crouch with a crooked smile — but behind it, his eyes had changed.
Sharper now.
Focused.
Claire was already moving past it when the trap sprang.
Blue lightning snapped out from the device like a whip, catching her arm and coiling around it like a chain of pure current. A sharp jolt surged through her, seizing her muscles, dragging her back as Takumi closed in—his scythe gleaming with intent.
She let out a strained breath and twisted hard, wrenching herself free of the tether in a burst of mana. The momentum spun her off balance—but her body corrected instinctively, the clumsy motion folding into a smooth sidestep that slipped her just beneath the arc of his blade.
"So," Takumi said, his tone maddeningly casual as he advanced, "what do you say? Dinner tonight? Something simple. Just the two of us."
Claire didn't miss a beat. Her steps flowed, her focus sharp. "Yeah, no thanks. I've got other things to deal with," she replied, dancing around his strikes.
He kept pressing forward. Claire's hand found three arrows mid-motion, and with a burst of movement, she vaulted over him. Arrows nocked mid-flip, she landed clean, bow drawn, lips curling into a confident smile.
"Though," she added, half-teasing, "if you'd said amusement park… maaaybe I'd have given you a shot. But hey—too late now, capisce?"
The tips of her arrows ignited with white light as she loosed them all at once. They blazed through the air like comets, forcing Takumi to brace behind his scythe. The impact knocked him back, boots scraping across the stone.
But her victory was fleeting.
A small metallic sphere rolled to a stop near her foot—soft beeping cutting through the haze.
Beep. Beep. Beep—
Smoke erupted in a burst of red light. Claire coughed, bow half-raised as she strained to see through the thick fog.
Takumi's voice drifted in, cool and amused.
"Looks like I'm not the only one full of surprises, huh?"
Meanwhile, Liene's kyoketsu-shoge sang through the air, the chain glinting as it latched onto one of her summoned roots. In one smooth motion, she swung herself high, catching a thinner branch mid-flight to pivot her momentum. Below, Kazuki tracked her movements with deadpan calm, sword hanging loose at his side—ready, but unbothered.
The thick root she'd hooked suddenly twisted beneath her as if answering a call, then plummeted toward Kazuki like a crashing meteor. The ground exploded on impact. Cement shattered. Dust erupted. The sound thundered across the arena—then, silence.
A heartbeat passed.
Kazuki burst through the debris cloud, coat fluttering as he shot upward with unsettling speed. Amid the fading roar of rubble, a soft, almost teasing "fufu~" floated through the air.
"Heads up," Liene chimed sweetly from behind him—her voice a sugary thread laced with danger.
Kazuki twisted mid-air, movement crisp and unhesitating. Their eyes locked—hers gleaming with mischief, his cold and unreadable. Her blade came for him in a clean, graceful arc.
With a single, precise motion, he parried. No flair. No wasted energy. Just enough.
The deflection sent her weapon spinning wide. For a moment—just one—Liene's ever-present grin cracked.
They landed at opposite ends of the massive root, now fallen like a stage between them. Kazuki didn't move. Not even a breath out of place. As if none of it had been worth reacting to.
With a sharp tug of the rope, Liene called her weapon back to hand. Her gaze lingered on him, no longer just entertained—but intrigued. The smirk she always wore faded into something quieter… and then bloomed into a real grin.
"Well, my my," she murmured, eyes glinting. "Aren't you full of surprises."
At the same time, the tension thickened. Claire squinted through the smoke, her eyes stinging with irritation. Her bow slid onto her back, and in one smooth motion, her hand found her sword. She dropped into a defensive stance without thinking—muscle memory kicking in—even as her mind raced.
Something about the silence was wrong. Then a voice cut through it—drawn out, theatrical, almost mocking.
"Claire..." She flinched, breath catching. It was Takumi's voice, slow and eerie, like some cheesy horror movie villain. "There is no escape..."
"Oh, come on," she muttered under her breath, already on edge.
A flicker of motion to the side snapped her focus. She spun toward it, sword raised—
—but there was nothing there.
"Wh—ack!" The startled yelp flew out of her as pain cracked across her side. The real attack hit from behind. Takumi's scythe struck with brutal precision. Her mana barrier lit up cyan, absorbing the worst of it—but the impact still hurled her from the smoke. She skidded hard across the stone, stopping just inches from the crumbling ledge.
Dizzy, Claire blinked rapidly, struggling to make sense of where she was. Her gaze shot to the unstable ground behind her—
"Okay, that's bad," she breathed—then snapped forward again, instincts kicking back in.
Takumi was already midair, scythe raised and wearing that grin.
"Hello!"
Claire scrambled to the side, heart hammering. "Gah! Geez!" Her voice cracked embarrassingly as the blade slammed down beside her, shattering the floor. Chunks tumbled into the void.
He didn't pause. He twisted and lunged again, and she barely got her sword up in time. Steel met steel in a sharp shriek. The hit drove her backward—boots sliding, arms trembling. She braced hard, trying to keep her grip as panic crawled up her spine.
Then a deafening crash split the air behind them.
Claire winced. "Eh—what was that?!" she squeaked, head jerking toward the noise before she could stop herself.
She and Takumi turned toward the sound, weapons still locked. The sight made them both freeze: Kazuki soaring backward through space, his blade a silver blur as it intercepted every lightning-fast strike of Liene's kyoketsu-shoge. She was pure motion, spinning through the air like a deadly dancer, summoning roots that burst from the ground like hungry serpents. Yet Kazuki's face remained a mask of indifference as he sliced through her attacks with mechanical precision, each movement exact and economical.
His boots scraped stone as he landed, sword dropping into a low guard position. Above him, Liene balanced on one of her massive roots with effortless grace, her free leg bent like a crane's.
The few remaining students paused their battles, eyes drawn to the clash like moths to flame.
Liene cocked her head with that knowing smile, eyes glittering with amusement. "You're reckless, aren't you?"
Her voice was teasing, but sharp—like a blade wrapped in silk.
"I suppose," Kazuki said, the words flat, barely carried on the air.
Claire's breath caught. That was the most she'd heard him speak all week.
Liene's gaze sharpened, intrigued. "Oh? So you speak. Have I impressed you somehow?"
Their eyes locked—hers playful, his unreadable. The silence stretched, and somehow that was worse than any answer. Claire tightened her grip on her sword, unease curling in her stomach. Why did it feel like something was off? Kazuki had faced worse before… hadn't he?
The doubt whispered in her mind, clawing at the edge of her focus.
Takumi's voice snapped her out of it, dry and pointed. "Earth to Claire?"
She didn't have time to respond before he lunged again. Their weapons clashed with a shriek of metal, both sliding back before charging forward once more.
Above them, Liene erupted into motion, her Whirling Assault igniting the arena in a whirlwind of green light. Her blade blurred as she danced around Kazuki, each movement precise, feral, beautiful. The string of her weapon carved wild arcs in the air, weaving between strikes as she flipped and spun.
Confidence rolled off her in waves. "Having trouble keeping up?"
Still, Kazuki gave no reply.
But as the crowd watched—Claire with wide eyes, Takumi now stilling between blows—it became clear.
Kazuki wasn't defending.
He was dictating.
Each impossibly fast strike was met with calm, exact parries. His body moved like water, never stiff, never overextended, yet always where it needed to be. He wasn't struggling—he was controlling the rhythm, one cut at a time.
Liene vaulted over him, her blade whistling toward his exposed back.
Kazuki pivoted without hesitation. His sword lit with a dull gray glow as it met her strike mid-air—each deflection clean, sharp, and effortless. Sparks of mana scattered between them, brief bursts of pressure that punctuated the silence.
Her rhythm broke. "Just... who are you?" Liene breathed, a thin edge of fear creeping into her voice.
Kazuki stepped forward, his movements seamless. "No one."
The words hit like a drop in still water—flat, cold, final.
In the same motion, he caught her blade.
Liene tried to pull away, but his mana flared first.
With a swift flash of light, his Stellar Skill triggered—two mirrored slashes so clean and precise they cut through her stance like it wasn't even there. Her guard shattered, her limbs thrown wide from the force, and she crumpled to the ground, breath caught, eyes wide.
Claire only caught flickers of it between parries with Takumi, but it was enough. The sharp cut of mana. The sudden silence. The way Liene's body collapsed like a puppet with cut strings.
Her breath hitched. That wasn't just strength. That was control—measured, terrifying control. And it sent a quiet, crawling chill along her arms.
Takumi noticed. "Focus," he warned, voice low as their weapons clashed again. But a smirk tugged at his mouth. She'd slipped—and he wasn't going to let that pass.
Around them, the crowd gasped as Liene tried to rise, limbs trembling. Her strength was gone, stolen in a blink. Kazuki stood above her, unmoving, silent.
Then his eyes met Claire's—just for a moment.
Blank.
She swallowed.
And looked away.
Liene, still on her knees, stared up at him in disbelief. The way her fingers curled against the dirt said it all.
She hadn't expected to lose.
Certainly not like that.