While Null and the beastman clashed in the center of the clearing—the other fight reached its boiling point.
Ronan's group had finally locked the two remaining bandits into a tight circle.
The difference from the first exchange was obvious.
Before—they had fought like individuals.
Now—they moved like a team.
Still rough. Still inexperienced. But coordinated.
The two bandits noticed it too.
"THE HATCHLINGS LEARN!"
"THE PROPHECY OF GROWTH UNFOLDS!"
Derrik groaned. "Why are they narrating the fight?"
Mira appeared behind one of them again. "Less talking."
Her dagger flicked forward. CLANG.
The bandit twisted his body and blocked the strike with the flat of his sword. But the moment he turned—Ronan was already there.
"Iron Tempo!"
Step. Strike.
His sword flashed downward.
The bandit blocked again—but this time Ronan didn't stop.
Step. Strike. Step. Strike.
The rhythm built. His movements grew faster. Sharper.
The bandit grinned wildly. "THE KNIGHT OF RHYTHM RETURNS!"
But his grin faltered slightly. Because this time—he couldn't counterattack.
Derrik crashed in from the side. "STONEHEART!"
BOOM.
His reinforced shoulder slammed into the bandit's ribs. The man staggered. Still standing—but exposed.
Mira's dagger flickered toward his wrist.
SLASH.
The bandit's grip loosened. His sword fell. CLATTER.
The bandit laughed even as he lost his weapon. "THE SHADOW'S BLADE FALLS!"
Ronan didn't hesitate. His sword swung flat.
THUD.
The strike smashed into the side of the man's head. The bandit collapsed instantly.
"One left," Ronan breathed.
But the final bandit didn't panic. He laughed louder.
"SO THE FIRST STAR FALLS! GOOD!" He raised his axe high. "THEN WITNESS THE FINAL CONSTELLATION!"
He charged straight toward them. Not retreating. Not hesitating. Just pure drunken aggression.
His axe slammed toward Derrik's head.
Derrik barely raised his staff in time. CLANG. The impact rattled his bones.
But that was exactly what Ronan had been waiting for.
"Iron Tempo!"
Step. Strike.
His sword flashed toward the bandit's side. The man twisted—but Mira was already there.
Ghoststep.
Her blade darted forward like a snake.
SLASH.
The dagger sliced across the bandit's thigh. He stumbled. Still laughing. Still swinging his axe wildly.
But now—Tobin saw it. A clear shot.
He inhaled. His hands steadied.
"True Aim…"
The crossbow fired. TWANG.
The bolt struck the bandit's forearm. Not deep—but enough. The axe slipped from his grip. CLUNK. It hit the ground.
The bandit blinked. "Ah."
Ronan moved instantly. The flat of his blade slammed into the bandit's temple. THUD. The man staggered. Derrik stepped forward and simply shoved him.
The bandit collapsed backward into the dirt. Hard. He tried to rise—but Mira's dagger pressed against his throat.
"Stay down."
The bandit stared up at the sky.
Then—he burst out laughing. "HAHAHAHA! THE FINAL STAR FALLS!" He spread his arms dramatically. "THE SHADOW COURT HAS BEEN DEFEATED!"
Ronan stared down at him. "You still think this is a stage play? Are you that drunk?"
The bandit grinned. "Of course. Even villains deserve a proper ending."
Mira rolled her eyes. "These guys are insane."
Derrik exhaled heavily. "But he's out."
Lyra finally relaxed slightly. "Everyone okay?"
Ronan nodded slowly. "Yeah."
He glanced toward the center of the clearing. Where sparks still flew between claws and steel. Null. And the beastman.
Ronan wiped sweat from his brow. "Alright. Let's go help him."
But as they turned—they realized something. The fight between Null and the beastman had already escalated far beyond what they expected.
---
※
---
Steel rang one more time.
CLANG!
Null's katana slid along the beastman's claws, sparks scattering between them like fireflies. The two fighters pushed against each other for a brief second—then both jumped back.
Leaves scattered across the clearing as their boots dug into the dirt.
For the first time since the second round began—both of them were breathing hard.
The beastman rolled his shoulders, chest rising and falling.
Null lowered his stance slightly, katana resting loosely in one hand.
For a few seconds—neither moved.
The forest seemed to hold its breath.
Then Null tilted his blade forward and pointed it directly at the beastman.
"Your goons are out." He gestured lazily behind him.
Indeed—the rest of the battlefield had gone quiet. All five bandits were now unconscious or pinned down by Ronan's group.
Null looked back at the beastman. "Now what will you do?"
The beastman stared at him.
Then—he started laughing. Not loudly. But in short, breathless bursts between panting breaths. "Hah… hah… hah…"
He wiped sweat from his brow. "Heh."
His grin slowly returned. "You kids… burst into our camp… kick the crap out of my crew… and then ask what I'll do next." He laughed again. "That's rich."
He flexed his claws. Blood dripped slowly from one of them. "But don't get cocky. Just because the stage looks bad doesn't mean the show is over."
Null stared at him silently for a moment. Then his eyebrow twitched.
"Damn." The word slipped out before he could stop it.
The beastman tilted his head. "What?"
Null rubbed his temple. "Are you guys literally insane or just plain dumb?"
The beastman blinked.
Null continued, clearly exasperated now. "From start to finish you bandits have been acting like you're putting on some kind of ridiculous stage play." He waved vaguely at the unconscious bandits. "Prophecies. Shadow courts. Rocket this, destiny that."
Null sighed heavily. "Are you all that bored of living as villains?" He tilted his head. "I mean, a real bandit group would have run away a long time ago once the situation stopped being in their favor."
The beastman's grin vanished. "Oi." His eyes narrowed dangerously. "You little brat."
He spat to the side. "Bandits running away isn't called banditry. It's called cowardice." His claws scraped together with an angry screech. "We live by the blade. We take what we want. And if someone stronger shows up—" His grin returned again. "—then we fight them. Simple."
Null stared at him. Then sighed again. "Yeah. I guess asking you was a waste of time."
Inside his mind—he spoke calmly.
Fantasy Omniscience-san.
[Yes, Master.]
Null glanced once more at the battlefield. At the unconscious bandits. At the beastman. At the strange theatrical behavior that had persisted throughout the fight.
Please solve this ridiculous mystery.
[I am already analyzing.]
Null continued mentally. I can't stand this cliché villain scenario anymore. Are these bandits always this dumb… or did these guys somehow turn dumb?
There was a short pause. Streams of invisible information passed through the silent analytical system inside his mind.
Then—Fantasy Omniscience answered.
[Conclusion reached.]
Null waited.
[These individuals were not originally behaving at this level of irrationality.]
Null blinked. Oh?
[Their current mental state is the result of external chemical influence.]
Null's eyes narrowed slightly. Chemical?
[Correction: magical alchemical substance.]
A faint image formed in Null's mind as Fantasy Omniscience explained. A bottle. Dark violet glass. Etched with silver runic markings. The label read: 'Moonfall Serpentwine.'
Fantasy Omniscience continued calmly.
[Moonfall Serpentwine is a high-grade enchanted alcohol produced through alchemical distillation.]
[Primary effects: Extreme euphoria, Heightened aggression, Suppression of higher reasoning functions, Amplification of emotional delusions.]
Null's eyebrow slowly rose.
Fantasy Omniscience continued.
[Secondary neurological effect: cognitive processing speed reduced to approximately 12% of normal function.]
[In simpler terms: their brains are currently operating at extremely low reasoning capacity.]
Null stared blankly. So… they're literally drunk beyond saving.
[Correction. They are magically intoxicated.]
Null rubbed his face. "Great."
But Fantasy Omniscience wasn't finished.
[Additional observation.]
Null paused. Go on.
[Moonfall Serpentwine is extremely rare and expensive. It is unlikely that a small regional bandit group could obtain such a substance independently.]
Null's eyes narrowed slightly. Meaning?
Fantasy Omniscience delivered the conclusion without emotion.
[These bandits were most likely supplied with the substance. Probability: 92%.]
Null's expression slowly hardened. Supplied by who?
There was a brief pause. Then—Fantasy Omniscience answered.
[The assassins targeting you.]
Null's eyes sharpened instantly.
Fantasy Omniscience continued calmly.
[Strategic assessment: the intoxicated bandits were intended to exhaust you and your companions. Their erratic behavior ensured prolonged engagement. After sufficient fatigue accumulated—] The sentence finished quietly. [—the assassins would deliver the finishing blow.]
Null exhaled slowly. "Ah."
Now everything made sense.
The insane dialogue. The reckless aggression. The refusal to retreat.
They hadn't just been stupid. They had been turned stupid. A disposable distraction.
Null's gaze drifted slowly toward the surrounding trees. The forest suddenly felt very quiet. Too quiet.
He sighed softly. "Well. That's annoying."
Then he raised his katana and pointed it calmly at the beastman. "Sorry. You're not even the real enemy today."
The beastman blinked. "What?"
Null's eyes drifted toward the deeper woods. "But I need to finish this quickly."
Null switched his weapon again. The katana vanished and two single-handed dual swords rested in his hands.
Across from him—the beastman bandit rolled his shoulders one last time. His breathing had grown heavier. But the grin on his face had returned.
"Heh. So that's how it is." The beastman cracked his neck. CRACK. "You're saying I'm just the warm-up act."
His claws scraped together with a harsh screech. SKRRRRK. "Kid. You've got guts." Then his expression sharpened. "Too bad you won't live long enough to deal with whoever's hiding in the bushes."
His body lowered. Muscles coiling like springs. Mana surged beneath his skin.
The fur along his arm suddenly thickened. Bones shifted violently. CRACK. CRUNCH.
His right arm expanded grotesquely—the limb transforming into something far more monstrous. Muscle swelled. Veins bulged. Fur spread down to the elbow. And the claws—the claws elongated into curved black talons nearly as long as daggers.
Ronan's eyes widened from the edge of the clearing. "What the hell…"
Mira swallowed. "That doesn't look good."
The beastman's grin widened into something feral.
"Beastkin blood technique." He flexed the monstrous arm. The claws gleamed in the fading light.
~Rocket Finish~
Then—he vanished.
The ground exploded under his feet. BOOM.
He shot forward like a launched rocket. Claws raised. A single killing strike meant to tear straight through Null's chest.
Meanwhile—Null did the opposite.
He didn't retreat. He didn't panic. Instead—he slowly raised both swords. One in each hand.
Inside his mind he muttered quietly. Man. I've always wanted to try this.
Fantasy Omniscience responded calmly.
[Master. Opponent impact estimated in 0.6 seconds.]
Null smiled slightly. Perfect timing.
His stance shifted. Left sword forward. Right sword angled low. His body relaxed. But his eyes sharpened.
Memories from another world surfaced in his mind—a finishing technique he had watched countless times. A move from fiction. From an anime he quite liked.
And now—he was about to recreate it. For the first time.
Null whispered under his breath. "Let's see if this works."
The beastman roared as he closed the final distance. "DIE!"
His monstrous claw swung down with enough force to rip through armor and bone.
And then—Null moved.
Not backward. Forward.
His body became a blur. Steel flashed.
*Star—
CLANG!
The first strike slammed into the beastman's claw, knocking it off trajectory.
Before the beastman could react—another strike followed instantly.
Burst—
CLANG!
The second blade carved across the beastman's chest.
Then the world exploded into motion.
Null's swords became streaks of silver. Left. Right. High. Low. Each strike flowed into the next faster than the eye could follow.
STREAM*
CLANG! CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!
A relentless storm of slashes erupted in the clearing. Four strikes. Eight. Twelve. Sixteen.
The beastman tried to counter. Tried to block. But every time he raised his claws—another sword struck from a different angle.
Null moved like lightning. Two blades flashing in a whirlwind of steel.
From the edge of the clearing—Ronan stared in disbelief. "What… the hell is that…"
Mira whispered. "What kind of combo attack is that?"
Derrik blinked slowly. "That's not normal."
Lyra simply stood frozen.
The assault lasted only a few seconds. But within those seconds—dozens of sparks exploded between claws and blades.
The final strike came like a thunderclap.
CLANG!
Null crossed both swords and slashed outward simultaneously. The impact launched the beastman backward.
The bandit crashed across the clearing and skidded through the dirt before finally stopping near the edge of the campfire.
Silence fell.
Null slowly lowered his swords. His breathing had grown slightly heavier. "Huh." He tilted his head. "That actually worked."
Across the clearing—the beastman slowly tried to push himself up. His monstrous arm trembled violently. His chest and shoulders were covered in shallow cuts from the relentless barrage.
"Heh…" He coughed once. Blood dripping from the corner of his mouth. "That was… new…"
His beast arm slowly shrank. The claws shortened. The fur receded. His strength finally gave out.
The bandit collapsed face-first into the dirt.
THUD.
The clearing went quiet.
---
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