Tudor lunged again.
Not recklessly.
Not laughing.
Not roaring.
Focused.
Their fists collided mid-air—
BOOOOOM!
The shockwave split the dust clouds above them in half like curtains.
Dravers slid back a step.
So did Tudor.
Equal footing.
Finally.
They circled.
The ruined island groaned beneath their pressure. The forest behind them had been flattened into splinters. The shoreline cracked where shockwaves had met the sea.
Tudor rolled his shoulders slowly.
His breathing was heavier now.
But his eyes—
His eyes were locked on one thing.
Her wrist.
Tick.
Tick.
Tick.
He smiled faintly.
Dravers noticed.
Of course she did.
He vanished.
The ground imploded where he stood.
He reappeared in front of her—
Punch.
She caught it.
The impact cratered the earth beneath them.
He twisted—
Elbow—
She blocked—
Knee—
She absorbed—
But every exchange forced her to defend slightly more than attack.
He wasn't trying to overpower her anymore.
He was buying time.
Each strike wasn't to win—
It was to stall.
Dravers darted sideways—
Appeared behind him—
Palm strike—
He spun before it landed and took it on his shoulder instead of his spine.
"He's changed tactics," she muttered.
Tudor grinned, blood at the corner of his mouth.
"I don't need to win now," he said quietly.
He lunged again.
This time, no wasted movement.
Every attack aimed to force her guard wide.
Force her to reposition.
Force her to burn stamina.
He slammed his fist into the ground—
BOOOOOOM!
The island split, forcing her to leap.
He followed instantly.
Mid-air collision.
Forehead to forehead.
The impact rang like a temple bell.
She kicked him away—
Dashed—
Barraged him with a flurry of enhanced strikes.
He endured.
Each blow dented him.
Each blow hurt.
But he didn't smile wildly anymore.
He endured.
And glanced.
Tick.
Tick.
Tick.
Dravers' eyes narrowed.
She increased speed—
A blur of crimson streaks tore across the battlefield.
She struck from the left—
From above—
From blind angles—
He took the hits he couldn't avoid and minimized damage on the rest.
Rolling with impact.
Shifting vitals.
Protecting his core.
He was fighting like a veteran now.
Not a brawler.
A survivor.
She grabbed him by the throat—
Slammed him into a cliff face—
The cliff shattered.
He grabbed her wrist mid-slam.
His eyes flicked down.
Seconds.
Just a few more.
"You're strong," he admitted through grit teeth.
"But you're on borrowed time."
She headbutted him.
His nose broke.
He didn't flinch.
He tightened his grip.
She twisted free—
Kicked him through the air—
Followed—
Their fists met again.
Lightning-like cracks spiderwebbed across the sky from the force.
Both landed.
Breathing heavier now.
Dravers could feel it.
The enhancement still surged—
But the edges were fraying.
Like a flame nearing the end of its fuel.
Tudor saw it.
He stopped attacking.
Just for a second.
Just enough to meet her gaze.
Because if she stopped—
He would seize it.
They clashed again.
Equal.
But not for long.
Tick.
Tick.
Tick.
Tudor's grin slowly returned.
Not wild.
Predatory.
He feinted high—
She blocked—
He didn't follow through—
Instead, he grabbed her wrist mid-guard.
Hard.
His thumb pressing directly against the watch.
Their eyes locked.
Silence between them for half a heartbeat.
"Five seconds," he whispered.
The air grew heavy.
Adrian, far away on the rooftop, felt it.
Something was about to snap.
And Tudor—
Tudor tightened his grip.
Waiting.
Not to overpower her.
But to survive the reset.
Because deep down—
He knew.
If he kept trading with her like this forever—
He would lose.
But he didn't need forever.
He only needed the exact moment her power flickered.
And he was ready for it.
Tudor waited.
Patient.
Watching the final seconds bleed away on Dravers' wrist.
She felt it too.
The enhancement was thinning.
Like a storm losing pressure.
At the last instant—
She lunged backward to create space.
Boots skidding across broken concrete.
Her hand darted toward her mouth—
Blood pill between her fingers—
But Tudor was already moving.
He exploded forward.
The ground detonated under his step.
In a blur—
He grabbed her wrist.
Crushed it mid-motion.
Her eyes widened—
And his fist drove into her abdomen.
BOOOOOOOM!
The sound wasn't just impact.
It was detonation.
Air blasted outward in a violent shockwave.
Dravers' body bent unnaturally around the punch—
Blood sprayed from her lips—
The pill flew from her hand.
Her eyes lost focus for a split second.
Without the enhancement—
Without consumed blood—
She was nothing more than a B-rank body facing an S-rank monster.
Tudor caught her skull in one massive hand.
Lifted her.
Then slammed her into the earth.
CRAAAAASH!!!
The ground split.
Stone cratered inward.
Her body bounced once and went limp.
Dust rose slowly.
Tudor stood over her.
Breathing heavy now.
Bruised.
Bloodied.
Tired.
But victorious.
He grabbed her left arm and lifted her effortlessly, her body dangling like a broken marionette.
He made a fist with his free hand.
Aimed directly at her face.
If that punch landed—
There would be no skull left to bury.
He smiled.
Cruel.
Satisfied.
"After I'm done with you," he said softly, leaning closer,
"I'm going to kill your boyfriend."
Silence.
Then—
He felt it.
A chill.
Not fear.
Not danger.
Something deeper.
Something primal.
Like standing in the ocean—
And realizing the water beneath you just went still.
Shark silence.
The air behind him twisted.
Reality cracked—
A thin vertical line of black opened.
Wind reversed.
Dust sucked inward.
A portal.
Dravers' eyes, barely conscious, flickered.
Tudor's instincts screamed.
He turned—
Too slow.
Out of the collapsing black stepped a figure.
Mid-air.
Knees bent slightly.
Two shadow-forged daggers reversed in his hands.
Crimson eye blazing through darkness.
The other drowned in black mist.
Jake.
His face was half-consumed by shadow.
Aura spilling out like a ruptured dam.
Pure killing intent.
Not anger.
Not rage.
Execution.
In a split second—
He swung.
A cross-cut meant to sever.
Tudor saw death.
Clear.
Sharp.
Final.
He leaped back with everything he had.
Jake's blades passed his throat by the width of a pen.
The air itself split.
A thin red line appeared across Tudor's neck—
Not deep.
But enough.
Enough for him to understand.
He landed several meters away—
Stumbling slightly.
Hand instinctively clutching his throat.
Warm blood coated his fingers.
A single bead of sweat rolled down his temple.
For the first time since this began—
Tudor looked uncertain.
Jake landed silently.
Between Tudor and Dravers.
Without turning—
Without looking—
He reached down and caught Dravers before she hit the ground again.
Gently.
His crimson eye never left Tudor.
The shadow around him pulsed violently.
But—
His breathing was completely calm.
Full of energy.
He had forced the portal open.
Forced the entry.
Tudor could feel it, he himself knew Jake came at the worst time.
He was exhausted.
He didn't take Jake seriously, well after he found out he was just a d rank.
But what stood in front of him was not a chance in hell a d rank.
He had to be B rank, but Tudor had never felt this threatened by a B rank
They locked eyes.
Wind moved across the ruined battlefield.
Adrian, barely conscious on the rooftop, saw the silhouette.
"...You came...." he whispered faintly.
He smiles softly
".... You attention loving ass..."
" I can't believe I'm happy to see you... The rest is up to you " he fell on his back again
Tudor straightened slowly.
Wiping blood from his neck.
His smile returned—
But it wasn't playful now.
It was tight.
Measured.
"You," he said quietly.
"So you're Shadow."
Jake said nothing.
His grip on the daggers tightened.
The mist thickened around him.
He looks over at Dravers, "I'm sorry I'm late"
She forces and says
" just make sure you kick his ass"
And Tudor could feel it.
A predator.
Who waited, for this exact moment.
smiling faintly.
The real fight—
The fight that determines their fate
Was about to begin.