Richard rolled his shoulders. The claws on his right hand retracted with a soft click.

"You know," he said, "I’ve studied every candidate who entered this orb. Every combat student. Every ability user. Every wildcard."

He paced a slow half-circle around Jan. Jan didn’t move. Didn’t track him. Didn’t blink.

"You were always the anomaly. The one student whose data made no sense. Number one ranked combatant across all countries. Aethel Academy’s biggest prospect." Richard stopped.

"You have the potential to rival Aurelia herself. Did you know that? That’s not flattery. That’s assessment."

Jan said nothing.

"It’s a waste. A talent like yours, fighting for the wrong side. Join us. Whatever they promised you—freedom, escape, a way home—we can offer better. With that potential, you’d be a monster beyond imagining. Beyond the stars."

"..."

Jan’s eyes stayed open. Unblinking. His breathing had slowed to something almost meditative. His grip on the greatsword was loose. Relaxed. Wrong.

Richard’s instincts prickled.

What is this?

DING...DING...DEATH...

Then he heard it.

A bell. Clear and sharp. Not in the room but inside his head.

The future sight.

He saw the attack.

[Formless Technique: Golden Radiance — First Strike]

The name surfaced in his mind unbidden, delivered by the shard’s precognition. But the attack itself

SHING—————

Richard couldn’t see it.

He could sense it. The shape of it. The radius. The sheer weight of what was about to happen.

But the technique had no form. No traditional stance. No readable trajectory. It defied every pattern the shard had learned.

Move.

Jan’s sword didn’t swing.

It released.

SHAAAAAAAAA!

Gold lightning erupted from the blade in a dome-shaped burst.

Not a slash but an explosion. The light wasn’t soft or radiant. It was violent. Crackling. Dominance Aura fused with light attribute, pouring outward in every direction at once.

The floor scorched. Screens blew. The air screamed.

Richard threw himself backward.

The shard’s precognition showed him the gaps—fractions of space between the bursts of gold lightning.

He twisted through them, contorting his cheetah-form into shapes no human body could manage.

A bolt clipped his shoulder. The horn on his forehead sizzled at the tip.

He landed hard. Skidded. Stopped.

The room was a wreckage of sparking consoles and scorched stone.

Jan stood at the centre of it, sword still raised, gold lightning still trailing off the blade in fading arcs.

Richard’s hand went to his shoulder. Blood. A graze. But it had touched him.

He stared at Jan.

"That technique..."

His voice came out thinner than he meant it to.

"I couldn’t see it. The shard couldn’t read it. What even was that?"

Jan didn’t answer.

Richard’s claws extended fully. His muscles tensed. The calm he’d worn through the entire fight had cracked.

He’s not just an anomaly.

He’s a threat.

"I see," Richard said quietly.

"You’ve been holding back this whole time. In every fight. Every battle. You’ve never once used your real power."

His eyes narrowed.

"I shouldn’t underestimate you just because you’re a kid."

Jan’s eyes finally moved. Locked onto Richard.

Still no blink.

The greatsword shifted in his grip. Gold lightning flickered along the edge. Faint. Waiting.

WHOOOOSH!

SHING!

Jan parried another flurry of claws. Sparks showered.

He skidded back a step, then two.

Richard was pressing harder now with faster combinations, each one aimed at the openings Jan’s limited output created.

"You’re slowing down," Richard said. "That technique of yours. You can’t use it properly with everyone in the room, can you?"

Jan didn’t answer.

Richard’s claws extended mid-swing. Jan twisted. The tips grazed his shoulder.

"I thought so." Richard smiled.

"This fight is good as over."

He retracted. Extended again. About to commit—

SHHHHK...

"...?"

"...!"

The wall melted.

Not cracked. Not broke. Melted.

A wave of flame erupted through the stone, and a figure stormed through the molten gap.

The Flame coiled around his shoulders like a living thing.

His polearm was already drawn. His other hand was already a fist.

"WHERE IS REL?!"

The room stopped.

Even Richard froze.

"I’M GOING TO KILL THAT FUCKER!"

Louise’s clothes were scorched, he had a piece of rope still dangled from his wrist. His hair was a disaster.

Even marks of flames trailed behind him with his footprints burned into the stone, walls half-melted where he’d passed.

He’d been tearing through the fortress for hours on nothing but spite.

He finally registered the room.

Jan. Richard in demonic cheetah form and then the bodies.

"...!"

His eyes found Valencia.

Crumpled on the floor. Blood spotting her clothes. Ribs rising and falling in shallow breaths.

The rage drained out of him and something else replaced it...

SSSSTTTT

The Purest Flame along his polearm didn’t brighten. It intensified. The air around the weapon warped.

Richard stared.

"You weren’t in the data. You were supposed to be—"

"Shut up."

A translucent screen flickered in front of him. The same system everyone had received.

[System Directive: Eliminate Target]

[Target: Richard — Hybrid Demonic Human Form: Demonic Cheetah]

Louise read it. Snorted.

"Well. That simplifies things."

His polearm spun once. The Purest Flame trailed behind it in a perfect, hungry arc. Normal fire flickered. This fire held. It clung to the air like it was waiting for permission to spread.

He finally turned to Richard.

"You put her on the ground."

"You’ll pay for that."

Not a question but only answers.

"Tch... these kids..."

Richard’s claws extended and his future sight flickered trying to read the new variable, trying to map trajectories.

But Louise’s flame didn’t behave like a weapon. It spread. It lingered. It was an environmental hazard as much as an attack.

The shard couldn’t predict where the fire would go.

Jan spoke. One word.

"Louise."

Louise glanced at him.

"Don’t thank me. I still owe you a fight, and I’m still going to find Rel and cave his skull in."

Jan almost—almost—smiled.

"Wouldn’t expect anything else."

A silence passed through the room.

Richard stood frozen between them, his eyes darted from Jan to Louise. Louise to Jan.

This isn’t right.

The number one and number two ranked combat students at Aethel Academy.

Jan Ates... and Louise Villerion.

Across every assessment, every ranking, every record, they had never worked together. They had never been on the same side of anything.

Rivals. Opponents. Counterparts.

That was the natural order.

They don’t get along. They don’t fight together. That’s not how this works.

Richard’s jaw tightened.

His future sight kept branching from gold lightning on one side and the red hot flame on the other.

Two fighters who had spent years trying to beat each other. Who knew each other’s reach, timing, and habits better than any ally ever could.

This is the one time.

The sole exception. Right here. Right now. In this room.

And it’s against me.

The rope still dangled from Louise’s wrist. The gold lightning still hummed along Jan’s blade.

They stepped forward.

WHOOOSH!

Richard moved first not to attack, but to survive.

His claws retracted and his Legs coiled.

In his cheetah-form he blurred sideways along the wall using his future sight to predict all the trajectories coming at him faster than he could sort them.

"...!"

Jan cut off his left. Greatsword carving a golden arc.

"Left side’s closed," Jan said.

Richard reversed. Louise was already there.

"Right side’s worse."

Polearm spinning. Purest Flame trailing in a crescent. Richard ducked under it and his future sight showed him the flame’s path half a second early—but the fire didn’t follow the path.

It clung to the air where the blade had passed, spreading in hungry coils.

SHHHHK!

One licked his shoulder. He hissed. Rolled. Came up with claws extended.

How are they this synchronised?

"They’re not even looking at each other," Richard muttered.

WHOOOOSH!

Jan swung high. Louise thrust low. Jan feinted left. Louise covered right.

Every gap one left, the other filled.

Every opening Richard saw closed before he could take it.

"This isn’t possible," Richard said. "You two don’t fight together. You’ve never fought together."

Neither answered.

Jan raised his greatsword. Gold lightning gathered along the blade—not flickering, but condensing. Layering.

"Descension Cut."

He brought the sword down.

A concentrated beam of light followed the path of his swing, twisting and spiraling as it traveled.

BOOOOM!

It became a vortex a drilling column of gold and white, lightning erupting from its edges in violent bursts.

The projectile screamed across the room.

Richard saw it coming. Future sight gave him the angle. He threw himself sideways.

The beam clipped his shoulder. The vortex pulled at him even as he dodged—dragging his trajectory off course, forcing him to stumble. Lightning lashed his ribs. He hit the ground rolling.

"Up here bastard!"

"...!"

Before he could rise, Louise was above him.

His polearm already mid-swing and his flames roaring along the shaft.

But there was something else now. Something beneath the fire. An aura Louise hadn’t noticed he was using.

Dominance Aura. Black at the edges. Bleeding into the flame without his awareness.

"Thunder Sweep."

SHAAAAA!

The polearm carved a horizontal arc.

The impact unleashed a radial shockwave of fire with the sound of a thunderclap that shook the walls.

Flames erupted outward in a perfect ring, clinging to the air, clinging to the floor, clinging to Richard.

He crossed his arms. The fire stuck. The thunder reverberated through his chest.

He skidded backward. Claws extended into the floor to stop himself. Sparks tore through the stone.

"That aura," Richard said, staring at Louise. "You’re not even aware you’re using it."

Louise said nothing. The black-edged flame coiled around his polearm like it had always been there.

But not for a second long he couldn’t think.

Shit... he’s coming at me.

Jan was already moving again preparing another attack.

DING!

Richard’s future sight flickered between them.

Jan’s Light Dominance on one side and Louise’s Dominance-infused flame on the other.

Two attacks. Two trajectories. Too many variables.

"I can’t block both," Richard said aloud, as if saying it would make it untrue.

Jan and Louise didn’t answer.

They didn’t need to.

Richard backed toward the centre of the room.

The shard was still feeding him futures, but every future ended the same way.

I lost...