Jay was the first to move.
Shield forward, stance low, he advanced slowly, each step measured. He could feel the weight of Akashin's presence, as if the entire room were watching.
Akashin did not wait.
He glided across the stone floor, the katana slicing through the air in a precise arc.
The strike wasn't exaggerated. It wasn't a shout of brute force.
It was the synthesis of years of training: fast, direct, clean.
Jay raised his shield.
The impact sent vibrations through the metal and up into his shoulder. It felt as if the blade had found the exact point that transferred maximum force into the structure.
"Tch…" Jay dug his feet in, gritting his teeth. "He knows exactly where to hit to make it hurt."
Akashin didn't press the same spot. He rotated his wrist just enough and chained two short strikes: one from low to high, trying to lift the shield; another diagonally, aimed at the neck.
Marcus intercepted.
The longsword came off his back and met the katana mid-path, the dry clash echoing through the hall.
"If you go down, we all go down," Marcus said, forcing him back.
Akashin retreated half a step. Not much. Just enough to reposition his feet. Knees slightly bent, weight balanced, every muscle—or the memory of them—focused on a single thing: efficiency.
"He's studying us," Sienna said, drawing a breath. "Look at his guard. He's not just attacking. He's… analyzing."
Ethan narrowed his eyes.
"Then let's give him plenty to analyze."
"Standard formation!" Jay shouted, never taking his eyes off Akashin. "I hold the line, Marcus flanks, Sienna and Ethan control, Elenya support and finisher!"
"Sounds like a great way to die together," Sienna muttered. Even so, her hands were already glowing with circles of energy.
Elenya stepped back a few paces, bow steady.
Ethan let the flames rise around his right fist, contained.
Akashin moved.
He didn't run.
He simply slid, almost floating.
He advanced on Jay, feinting a frontal strike. At the last second, the blade shifted to the side, aiming for the leg—an attack from someone who understands armor, knows where it hurts, knows where it brings you down.
Jay dropped the shield, trying to block the line.
The katana scraped along the metal and climbed up the edge of the shield, searching for gaps.
Marcus came in from the opposite side, longsword swinging in a counterattack.
Akashin rotated his wrist, stopping Marcus's blade with minimal movement. Using the katana as leverage, he pushed off, pivoted, and unleashed a horizontal cut at waist height.
Marcus leapt back, feeling the wind of the strike graze his chest.
"He uses our force to reposition," Marcus murmured. "This isn't dumb AI. This is experience."
Sienna stomped her foot.
"Then let's ruin his choreography."
Ethan noticed his HP bar dropping—slow and steady—even with the thermal reinforcement.
"Our HP is being drained even with the buff. We need to finish this fast. Sienna, you're up!"
Circles of energy appeared on the floor beneath Akashin's feet.
Translucent chains shot out, trying to bind legs and torso.
Akashin froze for half a second.
It was enough.
"Ethan!" Jay shouted.
Ethan released a short, concentrated spell. A compressed point of fire detonated at the joints of Akashin's leg armor.
It wasn't meant to burn the bones. It was meant to deliver rapid thermal impact and knock him off balance.
Akashin shifted his weight.
Elenya drew her bowstring.
"Penetration."
The arrow glowed faintly, thinning, as if all its power were being compressed into an invisible line. She released.
The projectile slipped through the crack in the broken chest plate, piercing the space between the ribs. The bones rattled.
Akashin staggered back two steps.
The light in his eyes flickered—but his stance did not break.
He rotated the katana, clearing the space, as if resetting his rhythm.
"He felt that," Elenya said. "But it wasn't enough."
"It was just the beginning," Ethan replied. "He learned a little about us. We learned a little about him."
"I bet he learned more," Sienna muttered.
Akashin advanced again.
This time, faster.
He struck Jay with two consecutive blows, hammering the guard to test the shield's endurance. At the same time, his foot slid sideways, changing the angle.
Jay adjusted, holding firm.
"Come on," he growled.
Akashin did.
The katana rose, tracing an arc that seemed aimed at the neck. Jay lifted the shield—but the strike stopped halfway. The blade rotated on an inner axis, and the cut came from below, targeting the base of the shield, trying to lift it.
The shield rose a few centimeters.
It was enough to expose Jay's side.
Marcus rushed in, trying to punish the opening.
That was exactly what Akashin wanted.
The katana spun, met the longsword, slid along it, deflected—and with a quick tap at the base of the blade, nearly tore the weapon from Marcus's hands.
The sword vibrated. His fingers almost gave way.
"Almost…" Marcus grunted, tightening his grip.
"He's disarming us!" Sienna warned. "Don't overextend your sword like that!"
Ethan saw the pattern. And the timing.
They needed to end this fight soon, before their potions became memories too.
Akashin wasn't attacking out of anger.
He was attacking through reading.
He watched Jay's shield, Marcus's reach, Sienna and Elenya's positioning, Ethan's fire.
And he calculated.
"He's prioritizing breaking our formation," Ethan said. "Not letting anyone settle into their role."
"Then let's make him uncomfortable too," Jay shot back.
Sienna formed a circle of energy in the air to Akashin's left, and another to his right.
"Time to stretch this stage," she muttered.
She snapped her fingers, and both spells detonated with lateral force, like massive slaps shoving Akashin from side to side.
He was dragged half a step left, half a step right, forced to constantly adjust his center of gravity.
Marcus entered along a diagonal that hadn't existed in the previous rhythm, his longsword coming down from above.
Akashin raised the katana to block, but Marcus's strike wasn't meant to cut.
It was meant to push.
The vertical impact forced Akashin's blade downward for a split second.
Jay seized the moment.
He surged forward with the shield, driving with his entire body.
Akashin was thrown back, heels scraping across the stone.
Elenya capitalized on the loss of balance.
"Penetration."
The arrow pierced the cracked shoulder guard, grazing the inside of the joint. The armor splintered.
Ethan launched a controlled burst of fire at the side, striking hip and leg—not to burn, but to deliver impact.
Akashin slid several meters, planting the katana into the floor to stop himself.
He rose slowly.
The armor more fractured now.
Some bones exposed where only metal had been before.
But the guard…
The guard was intact.
He leveled the katana toward Jay, Marcus, and Ethan, as if marking the three of them.
Then he lowered the blade into a stance reminiscent of iai: body relaxed, hand on the hilt, as if preparing to draw—even with the weapon already exposed.
"Okay…" Sienna murmured. "Now he's serious."