He was learning their tactics. Adapting not just to their abilities but to their coordination, their timing, their patterns of attack.
Cassius could feel it too. His vampire instincts were screaming warnings. Every exchange, every clash, was teaching The Reaper more about how they fought. Soon he'd be able to predict their movements before they made them.
"My Lord," Cassius said urgently as they circled for another engagement. "His wounds aren't regenerating, but he's adapting to our attack patterns. We need to change tactics before—"
The Reaper moved.
Not attacking—analyzing. His eyes tracked Satou's footwork, Cassius's positioning, the way they coordinated without speaking. Then his smile returned, wider than before.
