"Noe. Noe"
Cold Cry called her name, urgent, and coughed twice. The tightness in his chest eased a little as he did, his breathing coming easier.
The Jumping Demon's legs were every bit as strong as they looked. Even with Noe taking the brunt of it, and after skidding back a dozen meters on top of that, the impact had still been enough to make him cough up blood.
Noe was the one he was worried about now. She'd taken the kick head-on. If the spillover alone had done that much to him, there was no telling what shape she was in.
He called her name again and again. Nothing. The unease in his chest kept climbing.
He looked her over, head to toe. No visible wounds, nothing around her mouth or nose. If she'd taken serious internal damage, there should have been blood there. But she just looked asleep, her face calm, no sign of pain at all.
He held a finger under her nose to check for breath, then pressed his ear to her chest. It was almost like she wasn't breathing at all.
Panic shot through him. His eyes dropped, without meaning to, to her chest. He remembered, now, that the kick had landed somewhere around there.
He hesitated for a second, then made a decision he'd probably regret. Jaw tight, he undid the buttons of her shirt just below her collar, enough to see the skin underneath.
She was as soft-looking as she seemed from the outside, but the muscle under it was hard as rock. Near her stomach, just under her breasts, there was a patch of redness that stood out clearly against the rest of her skin.
That had to be where the kick landed. But going by the color, it didn't look serious, no bruising even. So why wasn't she
"Huh? Cold Cry, why are you undoing my buttons? What are you looking at? Are you looking at my"
He clapped a hand over her mouth before she could finish. He did not doubt at all that she'd have said exactly what he thought she would, in exactly the tone he expected.
He already knew how she was.
Right now, he felt like a thief caught red-handed. His face burned red as an apple, and every part of him wanted to disappear into the ground. But there was nothing to do except grit his teeth and sit with it.
Noe pushed herself up out of his arms, spotted the blood at the corner of his mouth and on his clothes, and leaned in, worried. "Are you hurt?"
"I'm fine." He caught her reaching out before it landed and asked instead, "What about you? Does anywhere feel wrong?"
"Me?" She glanced down at herself and buttoned her shirt back up without much thought. "Nope. Nothing feels wrong at all."
Nothing? His eyes went wide. He was sure he'd misheard her.
He hadn't even taken the hit directly, and he'd still coughed up blood. She'd taken it head-on and was telling him she was fine. That didn't add up.
"Don't play tough. If something hurts, just say so."
He put an edge in his voice on purpose; it was the only way she'd take him seriously. He was sure she was hiding it, worried about being a burden.
"I really am fine. Look, if you don't believe me."
She stood up, spun once, and hopped twice for good measure. Aside from making Cold Cry's head spin for reasons that had nothing to do with her injuries, she genuinely seemed fine.
"You still don't believe me? Hang on," She started on her buttons again.
He turned his head away fast and threw a hand up to stop her. "Alright, alright, I believe you." He'd already seen enough. No need for a repeat.
He looked at her again and remembered, suddenly, what she'd said about having an unusual body. Could it be tied to muscle density?
That was the only explanation that made sense. At six times normal density, there was no way the Jumping Demon's legs came close to matching her.
Just then, Akino came jogging up, worried. "Cold Cry, Noe, are you two okay?"
"I'm fine." "I'm fine!" He came out flat and cold. Hers came out almost cheerful.
Akino wore the same stunned look Cold Cry had a minute earlier. Every ordinary Contestant the Jumping Demon had kicked had been crushed like tofu. How were these two just standing here?
They clearly weren't ordinary.
Between the Jumping Demon and the Spider Demon, more Contestants kept falling. Behind them, the Three-Headed Demon was roaring its way toward the crowd; if it managed to link back up with the other two, there'd be no surviving it.
Cold Cry stepped past Akino, already reaching for his blade. Noe hurried after him. "Cold Cry, what...what should I do?" She was still shaken from the "get lost," afraid he still couldn't stand the sight of her.
He glanced at her, said nothing, and broke into a run toward the Three-Headed Demon.
She stood there, sinking, until his voice carried back to her: "Go take the jumper's head."
Her whole face lit up. "Yeah!" No hesitation. She knew what this was: a chance. If she failed this, he might never look at her twice again. But taking the Jumping Demon's head herself...
That thought alone made her stomach drop.
Cold Cry told Akino and Kimura to team up against the rest of the demons, with two of them assigned specifically to keep the Spider Demon off everyone's back, clear the ordinary demons first, then handle it together.
He went straight for the Three-Headed Demon himself.
Seeing him back on his feet had the whole crowd equal parts shocked and relieved. Nobody had time to wonder how the two of them had walked away from that kick; they just wanted this fight over with.
Akino passed the plan to Kimura, and the two of them agreed to take the Spider Demon together.
Cold Cry took the Three-Headed Demon. Noe took the Jumping Demon. Kimura and Akino held the line against the Spider Demon. Everyone else handled the rest.
The fight found its balance again.
The Three-Headed Demon had already torn its frozen arms off, and the gash between its two heads still hadn't closed. Six new arms were already growing in from its sides, hands reaching for whichever Contestants got too close in the chaos.
"Ice Breathing, Fusion Technique: Phantom Snowfall."
A gust of cold wind and snow swept past everyone and slammed straight into the charging demon.
The demon recognized that cold instantly; it seemed to finally realize what had been making its whole body ache.
The six hands changed course, no longer reaching for the crowd but converging on Cold Cry from every angle, aiming to crush him outright.
He let them close in. In the same instant, six shapes seemed to peel off from him, meeting each hand head-on.
Riding the sense-field his cold aura threw out around him, he wove between the six hands, blade catching each palm in turn and leaving a frost-scarred cut behind.
This time, he wasn't giving it a second to recover. No more room to breathe this time; he was going to take both heads before it could catch up.