From his side, Noa was still hesitating between a saber and a sword for the first encounter.
With a sword, he knew that in training it remained stable… and in real combat, it would better withstand his energy. It wouldn't break immediately under aura infusion.
But it was heavy. Too heavy.
It slowed his movements.
The saber, on the other hand, was light… fast.
But fragile.
Too fragile: it would almost instantly break under his aura. And even faster with a technique.
He looked at his own saber.
Useless for now.
He still hadn't managed to draw it.
He might as well change weapons.
He touched his forehead. He looked at his own saber even though he had been forbidden from using it.
"I think I'll just stick with you this time."
He turned around.
— Sorry, I didn't introduce myself. Nicolas… we're in the same team.
The boy was slightly shorter than Noa.
Black slightly curly hair, dark black eyes.
Black and red outfit.
— I wanted to ask you something…
He hesitated for a moment.
— Could you help me train hand-to-hand combat? I don't have anyone.
Noa observed him briefly, then nodded.
He knew he would need to improve with someone.
Might as well start now.
A little further away.
Hajime blocked a strike.
Then a second.
Then a third.
Atela's attacks kept coming in rapid succession.
He parried without apparent effort.
— She's fast…
He suddenly paused, thoughtful.
But already, the blade was at his neck.
He dodged just in time and stepped back, surprised.
— What…?
He resumed blocking… but the attack came again.
Still the same pressure.
Still that gap in rhythm.
— I see…
He dodged again by leaning slightly.
— She's playing with my perception.
Atela attacked again.
He blocked.
— She's not using her maximum speed… she creates a rhythm… then suddenly accelerates at the key moment.
He dodged again.
— My eyes can't follow… it's too sudden.
But he smiled.
And kept holding on.
Atela kept attacking relentlessly.
She noticed he was preparing something.
She used the same feint again.
But this time…
She was the one surprised.
She barely dodged an attack coming from her left.
— What…?
She stepped back slightly.
Hajime spun his spear.
— You're using speed and acceleration to disrupt my perception… smart.
He pointed his spear toward the ground.
— But it was enough to close my eyes before your attack.
A short silence.
— Rely only on hearing to detect your rhythm changes… and open them at the right moment.
He lifted his head.
— Simple adaptation.
Atela was slightly sweating.
She understood.
A third time would not work.
But she didn't seem worried.
— Closing your eyes in the middle of a fight… that was risky.
Hajime stuck his tongue out with a confident smile.
— We're not allowed to kill each other here. Worst case… just an injury.
He got back into stance.
— Let's continue.
Atela did the same, perfectly focused.
Further away.
Noa briefly observed the fight… then refocused on Nicolas.
No surprise.
Atela was exactly as he expected after the underground tunnels… and her past as Guardian of the Ava.
Nicolas warmed up.
— Ready?
Noa took his stance.
— If you want.
Nicolas attacked immediately.
A jump.
A spinning kick.
Noa dodged by crouching.
Barely on the ground, Nicolas followed up with a punch.
Dodged again.
— His style relies on agility… and fluidity.
Another kick.
Noa grabbed his ankle.
But Nicolas pivoted and attacked with the other leg.
Blocked.
He spun, forcing Noa to release him.
— His legs are incredibly powerful…
Noa already anticipated the next move.
Nicolas planted his foot and struck like a hammer.
Blocked.
He stepped back.
— He attacks to analyze…
He returned to stance.
— Same here.
Noa waited.
Then moved forward.
Nicolas dodged by jumping.
Noa immediately followed up.
Again.
And again.
Nicolas dodged, but with increasing difficulty.
— Fast… precise… surgical…
A kick from Noa.
Nicolas slid to avoid it.
— No unnecessary movements…
Nicolas counterattacked.
Noa responded.
The exchanges became instant.
Violent.
Fluid.
Perfect.
— It's like…
— …the movements of an assassin.
A shock echoed through the room.
The fights stopped for a moment.
Ranta rolled across the floor before crashing into a wall.
He grimaced.
— You didn't hold back… Drago…
In front of him stood a young boy with black hair and dark gray eyes.
A smile revealing sharp, almost animal-like teeth.
From his hands up to his elbows, his skin was black and hard, reflecting the light like armor.
His hand was still raised.
Drago Maximus. Son of the Dragon Monarch
Next chapter: The Honored One of the Eternal Void