I take a step toward them, but it was too rash and too direct, causing the broad noble to capitlise instantly, whipping his flame spear forward in a low arc, aiming at my legs.
I jump, but the heat clips my shin. Pain flashes bright and ugly. My knee buckles for half a second when I land.
The slick-haired noble moves at the same time, his binding threads snapping toward my wrists.
To dodge, I slammed Turbulent Break into my own chest.
"Ventus: Turbulent Break!"
The blast erupts outward, shredding the threads of my uniform midair, blasting my own hair back and making my lungs collapse slightly,
'I'm not a refined noble with perfect control, but at least this works. For now.'
The broad one laughs again, mean. "Hah! Look at you. Just blasting your wind away like a drunken storm."
"Better than being a spoiled parasite," I spit.
The slick-haired noble's eyes sharpen. "Careful... Don't push your luck now, rat."
He raises his hand, and the shimmering defence around his fingers thickens into something more structured. A partial barrier.
"Anymore and I may decide that I've had enough of you," he says.
Good.
That means I'm doing my job.
'Gotta get them more angry. More frustrated.'
I shift my stance, planting my feet between them and the commoner.
"Leave," I say. "Walk away now, and I won't chase after you."
The broad one snorts. "Walk away? Chase after us? You're joking, right?"
The slick-haired noble's smile returns, thin and vicious. "I'm afraid we're not leaving."
He gestures lazily to the commoner. "Not until he's done paying for his mistake... or until we're satisfied."
The commoner's voice is small. "Please…"
The broad one laughs. "Oh, look at that! He can talk."
I feel the wind inside my chest surge, not elegant, not calm. Raw.
I don't want to be smart.
I don't even care about winning at this point.
I just want to hurt them.
Badly.
'This is bad. At this rate, I'm the one who's gonna get swept up by my own emotions.'
I force myself to breathe.
In.
Out.
'I have two spells. Break and cut. So let's make them count.'
I flick my fingers toward the broad one's hand, trying to disrupt his Ignis casting.
"Ventus: Cutting Draft!"
The blade slices the air right at his wrist. He jerks back, his flame sputtering.
At the same time, I pivot and slam Turbulent Break toward the slick-haired one's feet.
"Ventus: Turbulent Break!"
The shockwave hits low, ruining his footing, forcing him to step back.
For one second...
They're both off-balance.
This isn't enough to "win."
But it's enough to change the tone of the fight.
The broad one's grin fades. His eyes go hard.
The slick-haired one's voice drops. "Alright. That's enough now."
He points a finger at me like he's selecting prey.
"Put him down."
The broad one dashes forward.
The flame in his palm condenses into a tighter, more lethal shape.
I brace—
And the commoner behind me suddenly coughs, forcing himself upright, eyes wild.
"Ryn—" he croaks. "Don't—please—"
I snap, without looking back, "What did I say?! I said stay behind me!"
"I—I can't—" he gasps. "They'll—"
His words break into a wheeze.
And I realise, with a sick twist, what he's trying to say, and how he's right.
Even if I fight them off, they'll just come back later, whether that's in the maze or in the Academy. They'll target him while he's weak. They'll pick him apart. And they'll do it because they can.
'I can't stop them... unless.'
...
Unless I make this cost them something.
Unless I make it so painful that they think twice.
My hands curl into fists.
The broad one lunges, his flame spear whipping forward.
I blast Turbulent Break at his chest.
"Ventus: Turbulent Break!"
The shockwave hits him mid-step and knocks his spear line off-course. The heat scorches the crystal floor instead, leaving a glowing mark.
The slick-haired noble darts in with a binding thread again, faster this time, refined.
I throw Cutting Draft right through it.
"Ventus: Cutting Draft!"
The blade cleaves the thread, dispersing it, and I feel a weird satisfaction at the slick-haired noble's brief look of irritation.
'They aren't used to resistance.'
'They're used to people begging.'
'They're used to people folding.'
But I don't fold.
I'm not a noble.
I'm not blessed like them.
I'm not special.
But I'm here.
And I'm furious.
I step forward and cast Turbulent Break, not at them, but at the air behind them, creating a pressure surge that unexpectedly shoves them forward, disrupting their spacing.
They collide shoulder-to-shoulder for a moment.
That's my opening.
I flick Cutting Draft toward the broad one's knee.
The blade slices the air and catches him as he tries to shift weight. His leg stutters, and he drops one knee to the ground with a startled grunt.
The slick-haired noble swears under his breath.
Oh.
He swore.
He's mad now.
'Good.'
The broad one rises, his eyes blazing, and his flame condenses into a spear of fire again, but this time it's longer, hotter.
He aims it at my chest.
The slick-haired noble moves to flank.
They're trying to end it quickly.
'I can't let them.'
I cast Turbulent Break again, this time harder and more concentrated, resulting in a brutal bang of air.
It catches the broad one's spear arm and jolts it sideways, making the flame spear graze the arm of his noble partner, instead of me.
"You idiot," the slick-haired noble hissed.
The broad one rips another one of his flame spears free, face twisted in annoyance. "What? It was obviously an accident."
The slick-haired one's gaze snaps to him. "You did that on purpose."
The commoner behind me whispers, his throat hoarse, "Ryn… stop. Please."
I glance back just long enough to see his face.
He looks wrecked. Not just physically. Mentally. Like he's been crushed by hope, and now he doesn't know how to stand back up.
And I hate these nobles even more for it.
I turn forward again.
My voice comes out low. "You're done."
The slick-haired noble laughs, but it's sharp. "We're done when we say we're done."
The broad one raises his flame spear again, pointing it at my face now. "I'll tell you what, for a commoner, you're brave. I'll give you that. Stupid, but brave."
I tilt my head. "Thanks... but I don't care."
He steps forward.
The slick-haired noble flanks.
The room hums louder.
My heart pounds.
My Aether feels thinner.
My arms feel heavy.
But I don't back away.
I can't.
Because if I do, they'll just go around me.
And if they go around me, they'll finish what they started with the commoner.
I plant my feet.
"COME ON THEN! TRY ME!" I say.
The slick-haired noble's eyes flick toward me, and for the first time, his expression shifts.
It wasn't fear.
Not yet.
It was uncertainty.
He looks at me like I'm not just any normal commoner.
He looks at me like I'm a problem.
And I bare my teeth.
"Yeah," I spit. "Looks like you're finally paying attention to me."
The broad noble's grin fades completely. The flame in his palm tightens, the heat sharpening into something meaner than a toy.
"Cute," he says. "The commoner thinks he's actually doing something."
The slick-haired noble rolls his shoulders like he's settling into a duel stance he's practised in mirrors a thousand times.
"Let's not drag this out any longer," he says, voice calm and vicious. "We've already wasted too much time on this trash."
The commoner behind me makes a small sound, like he's trying to speak, or beg, or apologise for existing.
I don't look back.
I keep my eyes on the nobles.
Two of them.
One of me.
My Aether's already been drained by the maze. My forearms ache from casting. My ribs are bruised from earlier scrapes. My lungs burn every time I inhale.
And these two?
They look fresh.
They look like they've done exactly what they admitted. Let someone else do the work while they save themselves for the end.
The broad one lifts his palm, flame coiling into a tighter spear again. "I'm going to break your jaw."
"How about you don't?" I snap.
The slick-haired one sighs like I'm exhausting him. "You commoners always talk like you're owed something."
"I'm owed basic decency," I spit back.
He smiles. "It's adorable that you even think that's a possibility."
The broad one takes a step forward.
The slick-haired one shifts left, moving to flank. It was smooth, practised, and coordinated.
They've done this before.
The act of crushing someone weaker than oneself.
My hands flex.
I glance sideways, only by a fraction. I take note of the distances, the angle of the exits, and the space between them. The way the slick-haired noble keeps his weight light on his feet, while the broad one leads with power.
'Let's think about this rationally. They're not trying to "win." They're trying to humiliate me. If I can use this to my advantage, then I can win. If I capitalise on their recklessness, then I can land a hit. A solid hit. And that's all I need.'
The broad one flicks his wrist and sends his flame spear low, skimming the floor toward my legs.
I jump back, the heat of the spear skimming my boots. I whack my palm forward.
"Ventus: Turbulent Break!"
The shockwave hits the spear mid-flight, blowing it off course so it smears across the floor instead of slicing my shins. The crystal hisses.
The broad one laughs, but it's strained now. "Yeah, yeah. I've seen all this before. A big gust of wind."
The slick-haired one moves immediately, his binding threads snapping toward my wrists again, faster, and more refined.
I throw Cutting Draft right through them.
"Ventus: Cutting Draft!"
The blade of wind cleaves the threads cleanly, dispersing them into nothing.
The slick-haired one clicks his tongue, annoyed.
"Oh," I mutter. "Did that ruin your little ribbon trick?"
His eyes narrow. "Oh, how I'm going to enjoy breaking you."
They step in together now, creating pressure from both sides.
The broad one feints a flame thrust to force me to dodge.
The slick-haired one angles for my blind spot.
I keep moving, pivoting, trying not to get trapped between them and the wall where the commoner is slumped. If they pin me, they'll hit me until I stop standing.
And then they'll turn around and finish him.
The commoner's breathing turns ragged behind me.
I hear him whisper something, maybe "stop," maybe "please," maybe my name again.
It grinds against my nerves.
Not because it's annoying.
Because it's familiar.
That sound of someone realising hope was a mistake.
I grit my teeth so hard my jaw hurts.
"Stay behind me," I say again, lower. "Don't move."
"I can't—" he starts.
"Don't," I snap. "Just—don't."
The broad noble lunges.
I blast him with Turbulent Break, but he braces this time, his boots settled. He slides half a step and pushes through the pressure.
He's stronger than he looks. Or more trained.
The slick-haired one uses the moment to dart in and swing his fist, aiming for my ribs.
It wasn't magic.
It was a basic punch.
Because, of course, nobles like to remind you they can beat you without even casting.
I twist, take it partially on my forearm, and pain spikes high. He follows with another strike, his elbow this time.
I stumble back.
My shoulder hits the wall.
The broad one's flame spear snaps toward my face.
I duck, feeling the heat singe the ends of my hair. I retaliate with Cutting Draft, trying to inflict damage on the broad noble's wrist.
He jerks back just in time, but the blade slices the air close enough to make him flinch.
'Good. So he can flinch.'
The slick-haired one laughs softly. "Look at you. Scrambling."
"I'm not scrambling," I wheeze. "I'm... just improvising."
The broad one snarls. "Shut up."
He steps in again, his spear raised.
The slick-haired one shifts wide, circling.
They're tightening their net, trying to corner me.
And I can feel it. The ugly truth is settling in my stomach like a stone:
If this goes on, I will lose.
Not because they're better.
But because there are two of them.
Because my Aether is thinning.
Because theirs is not.
Because the maze already took its share out of me before I even walked into this little morality play.
I swallow hard and force my brain to stop shouting and start thinking.
'I've got two spells. Nothing fancy to allow me to dash around. No shield to protect me. And no allies to help me— Well, that's not entirely true. I've got one battered commoner behind me who can barely breathe. Great. Not to mention, the two crazy nobles who think they're untouchable.'
The slick-haired one's eyes flick to the commoner again, and his smile turns crueller.
"Oh, don't worry," he says, voice light. "Once we're done with you, we'll finish what we started with him, and it'll be glorious. "
Something within me goes cold.
The broad one chuckles. "He's already half-dead. Won't take too long."
My fingers twitch.
I can't win like this.
I need an opening.
A mistake.
A moment.
Something.
I take one step forward like I'm going to attack the broad one head-on.
He brightens, eager. "Here we go."
He thrusts the flame spear.
At the last second, I pivot sideways and slam Turbulent Break past him, into the air behind him.
"Ventus: Turbulent Break!"
The shockwave bursts behind his shoulder, forcing him forward unexpectedly, ruining his stance. His spear misses by inches and drags a streak of heat across the crystal.
He stumbles.
Just for a heartbeat.
And the slick-haired one reacts, moving in to capitalise.
Too fast.
Too confident.
He swings for my head.
I duck and throw Cutting Draft low, aiming for his ankles, at the floor beneath him, at the space where his balance lives.
"Ventus: Cutting Draft!"
The blade doesn't cut flesh, but it steals traction. A sharp gust slices the air right at his step. His boots skid, and his posture falters.
Not by much.
But enough.
Enough to remind me this is possible.
Enough to remind me they're not Gods.
They're just bullies who've never been hit back.
They both reset almost immediately, anger flashing now, real and sharp.
The broad one's face twists. "I'm done playing around."
The slick-haired one's smile disappears entirely. "Agreed."
They advance together, no more teasing, no more talking.
Just intent.
My heart hammers.
My mouth is dry.
My arms ache.
And I realise I've run out of dramatic speeches.
All I've got left is stubbornness and some wind
I glance at the battered commoner behind me, then back at the two nobles closing in.
And inside my head, I hear myself, half amused, half horrified, like I'm watching my own bad decisions unfold.
"Okay, Ryn," I mutter under my breath, forcing a grin that feels more like a snarl.
"So how are you going to get yourself out of this one?"