At first, startled and refusing to believe it, he altered his attack style completely—throwing feints that were nearly impossible to read, aiming for vulnerable targets, and shifting mid-strike from one angle to another.
Yet the result remained the same.
It wasn't a matter of raw reflexes or luck.
Whether he feinted to the left or launched a lightning-fast strike from a blind spot, Greg and Kuro always seemed to move in to block or slip past his attacks.
Even if there was a micro-second delay on occasion, they still managed to anticipate his attacks almost every single time.
The healer narrowed his eyes, stepping back slightly to recalculate his approach.
How did their reaction speed jump like that out of nowhere?
Behind them, standing just outside the immediate clash, Gil—whose eyes had recovered from the earlier blinding—stood slightly off to the side, tracking every single movement.
His eyes burned with an inconspicuous, faint glow that could easily be missed if one wasn't paying close attention.
Rewinding a few moments before this scene took place—right after helping the giant back to his feet, Kuro and Greg had mutually decided they were up next, charging headfirst into a clash with the healer.
It seems they've decided to just do whatever they want, Gil had thought at the time.
His perceived role in their little band was already beginning to irritate him to no end. Setting aside the fact that they all seemed to think he needed constant protection—which was annoying enough on its own, even if he understood their good intentions—if they were going to be reckless, he at least wasn't going to let the beatdown they were taking go to waste.
During the initial clash between Hugo and the healer, Gil had already begun studying the healer's movement patterns.
As the frantic battle between Kuro, Greg, and the healer escalated, he unknowingly slipped into a mental state he couldn't quite articulate, though he vaguely remembered experiencing something similar once before: that fateful night against Hector, when he had tracked the clinking black chains swirling around him in the dark.
Biting his lip as he watched Kuro and Greg sustain hit after hit, he barely registered the fact that his mind was now comfortably tracking the healer's blindingly fast trajectory.
No, he's going to hit you from—dammit, obviously! No, not there, he's feinting—
As frustration welled up inside him, Gil felt a sudden wave of helplessness, forced to watch his allies suffer such a brutal one-sided beating without being able to help.
He realized that while he could track the healer's movements now, what good did that do them in this exact moment?
Even he would struggle to react in time under this kind of pressure. By the time he yelled to warn them or draw the healer's attention, they would have already taken the hit a thousand times over. Worse, he risked completely shattering their concentration in the middle of a strike.
Biting his lip hard enough to break the skin and taste the metallic copper tang of blood, Gil was rapidly reaching his absolute limit.
Finally, after Kuro took a particularly brutal hit straight to the face, Gil decided he had had enough.
It was time to act—whatever that meant. He simply refused to stand by uselessly any longer.
And as if something had heard his desperate silent plea, the ethereal chains connecting him to the two of them flared briefly into view before his eyes. Instantly, Kuro and Greg froze for a fraction of a second, catching their breath in unison.
Huh. That's weird, Gil thought. But seeing no immediate physical change, he didn't dwell on it.
The healer resumed his relentless assault.
Instinctively, Gil couldn't help but scream inside his own mind: Greg, to your left!
To his utter astonishment, as if Greg had heard the command echoed directly inside his head, the young man feinted and slipped left—executing the exact evasive move he had envisioned.
What the...?
Gil was stunned by this sudden turn of events, but there was no time to sit around marveling at it.
Surprised that his strike had missed, the healer redoubled his efforts.
Could it be?
Catching a faint inkling of what might be happening—though still far from certain—Gil continued to bark advice inside his mind.
No, that side is a feint! Duck now! Over here—I told you to go left! No, fall back!
He directed them purely through his thoughts, and as the grueling session wore on, he discovered to his immense surprise and delight that not only could Kuro and Greg somehow hear him, but he needed fewer and fewer words to convey his intent.
Where he previously had to formulate every movement step-by-step, now, simply transmitting a raw sense of impending danger was enough for Kuro and Greg to react and dodge appropriately.
A fierce, dangerous smile broke across Gil's face.
Ah, here we go. Now it's our turn to strike back.
Dodging was fine and all, but acting as a human punching bag had never been his style—and it clearly wasn't in Kuro's or Greg's nature either.
Shifting from defense to offense, the duo began turning the tables, refusing to give the healer even a single second to catch his breath.
One would act as a decoy to draw his attention, while the other launched a swift flank attack, reacting in real time to every counter.
They weren't faster than him, but they seemed to operate a fraction of a second ahead of his actions, anticipating every move and acting accordingly.
It made for a bizarre spectacle: an adversary who was physically far superior and dominant in raw stats, yet completely unable to deploy his usual prowess or regain control of the flow of battle because of this uncanny foresight.
By now, the healer had fully realized something strange was going on, even if he couldn't pinpoint the exact mechanism behind it.
Do I really need to resort to THAT again? he wondered internally, feeling the pressure mount.
Yet something held him back. No... these two are different from the red-haired giant.
Even while backed into a corner, he still maintained enough composure to observe his opponents.
What he saw gave him pause. Sure, through some inexplicable phenomenon, these kids could now track his movements, but that was the only thing that had changed.
They hadn't suddenly grown stronger, nor did they possess Hugo's insane passive regeneration.
As a result, the sheer physical strain they were putting on their bodies was only worsening their existing injuries.
He didn't know how long they expected to hold out at this pace, but at this rate, he was going to have an absurd amount of medical work to do once this session wrapped up.
Alright, I think that's enough for today, he decided, resolving to end the match as quickly as possible, even if it meant being a bit harsher than intended.
Still, they've done exceptionally well.
A sharp, blinding white light condensed around his fist as he prepared to bring the fight to a decisive end.
"Shut your eyes! Protect your eyes now!"
Gil's desperate command echoed through their minds, but the instruction came a split second too late.
Before Kuro or Greg could fully process the warning and cover their faces, a blinding burst of incandescent light erupted from the healer's fist, illuminating the dimly lit training hall with the searing intensity of a dying star.
The shockwave of compressed light and raw kinetic force hit them like a runaway train.
Completely blinded and unable to anticipate the strike without their sight, both Kuro and Greg were blown backward, skidding violently across the stone floor before coming to a painful halt at Gil's feet.
Gil groaned, clutching his own throbbing temples. Having kept his sight active to coordinate their movements, the sudden light backlash felt like a hot needle plunging straight through his retinas.
Tears welled up in his burning eyes as he forced himself to stay standing, placing himself defensively in front of his two battered allies.
As the blinding glare faded, the silence in the room was deafening.
The healer stood in the center of the arena, his fist slowly lowering as the residual light dissipated into thin air.
He was breathing slightly harder now, his clothes rumpled and covered in dust—a stark contrast to the effortless composure he had maintained earlier.
He looked at the three of them—Kuro and Greg struggling to catch their breath on the ground, and Gil, wincing in pain yet staring right back at him with defiant, tear-filled eyes.
His expression shifted slightly as understanding dawned on him.
Him? I see...
A quiet, complex expression crossed the healer's face.
"Predicting my moves was impressive," the healer said, his voice echoing calmly across the quiet room. "And your teamwork, the way you act as one... even more so. But raw foresight means nothing if your bodies can't keep up with the force of the strike."
He took a slow step forward, his gaze locking directly onto Gil. He didn't say anything aloud, but Gil got his meaning loud and clear.