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"Sorry, but I'm not using mana."
The words were still settling in the air when Kenshin moved.
BOOM!
Kai's body folded around the impact—not a punch, not a kick, just force, delivered to his chest with the casual precision of someone swatting a fly. He flew backward, his arms pinwheeling, his mouth open in a silent gasp. The wall of the training ground met him with a crack that echoed across the courtyard.
He hit. Dropped. Lay still.
Blood covered his face—not a wound from the impact, but the split eyebrow from earlier, reopened and leaking. His fingers twitched once, twice. The rest of him did not move.
"You might need a healer for him." Kenshin pointed at Kai's prone form, his voice conversational, almost apologetic. "He's definitely not getting up from that."
"You don't say." Jude's voice was flat. His eyes didn't leave Kenshin.
"I held back, though." Kenshin shrugged—a small, careless roll of his shoulders.
