Nime could feel it before the next attack came.
Not with his eyes.
Something deeper.
A tension in the air. A subtle shift, like the world itself tightening around him.
Then the boy moved.
No warning. No sound.
Just movement.
Nime reacted on instinct, stepping back as a blade cut through the space where his chest had been a heartbeat earlier. The wind from it brushed his skin.
Too close.
Way too close.
"You're distracted," the boy said, his voice calm as ever.
Nime steadied his breathing, forcing his thoughts to slow down. "You're trying to kill me. Of course I'm distracted."
"That's not an excuse."
The boy stepped in again.
Faster this time.
Nime barely managed to raise his arm. Steel met resistance with a sharp sound, the impact sending a jolt through his body. His muscles screamed in protest.
He staggered back.
He couldn't keep doing this.
Every exchange pushed him closer to his limit, while the boy barely looked like he was trying.
Behind him, the lion's voice came, as steady and unbothered as ever.
"Then stop reacting."
Nime almost laughed. "That's your advice? Seriously?"
Another strike came.
Nime twisted out of the way, his foot slipping slightly against the uneven ground.
"Stop reacting," the lion repeated. "Start understanding."
Understanding what?
Nime clenched his jaw.
The next attack came from the left.
He didn't see it clearly—but he felt it.
A flicker. A direction. Intent.
He moved.
Not perfectly.
But enough.
The blade missed.
For the first time, cleanly.
The boy paused, just for a moment.
"…Good," he said quietly.
Nime didn't respond. He was too focused on what had just happened.
That feeling again.
That strange awareness that didn't belong to his senses.
It wasn't sight.
It wasn't sound.
It was something else entirely.
The boy came again.
This time faster. Sharper. More precise.
Nime didn't try to follow the movement.
He let the feeling guide him.
Step.
Turn.
Shift.
The blade passed him.
Another came immediately after.
Closer.
More dangerous.
He raised his hand—
—and caught it.
The edge bit into his palm, drawing blood instantly, but he held it there, his grip tightening despite the pain.
For a brief second, everything stilled.
Both of them frozen in place.
Nime lifted his gaze.
"…Got you."
The boy's eyes narrowed—not in anger, but in interest.
Then he pulled back, breaking free with a quick motion.
They separated.
The space between them felt different now.
Nime could feel it.
That pressure inside him—the same one that had exploded out of him before—it was still there.
Unstable.
Heavy.
Waiting.
He exhaled slowly, trying to steady it, but it didn't fade.
If anything, it grew stronger.
"…So that's how it works," the boy said, almost to himself.
Nime frowned. "What does?"
"You don't control it," he continued. "It responds to danger."
"Yeah, I figured that out the hard way."
"That makes it useful," the boy said.
A faint smile touched his lips.
"But also predictable."
Before Nime could respond, the boy vanished again.
This time, the movement felt different.
Not just fast—
intentional.
Nime's instincts flared.
Too many directions. Too many possibilities.
His heart pounded.
He couldn't track him.
"Stop looking," the lion said.
Nime shut his eyes for a split second.
Just one.
Everything else faded.
The sound of the wind.
The rustle of leaves.
Even his own breathing.
And then—
There.
A sharp spike of intent.
Right behind him.
Nime turned—
just as the blade came down.
His hand shot up.
He didn't think.
He didn't hesitate.
He moved.
The strike stopped inches from his shoulder, caught between his fingers and palm. Blood ran down his wrist, but his grip didn't falter.
For the first time—
he wasn't reacting.
He was ahead.
The boy's expression shifted, just slightly.
"…You're learning faster than I expected."
Nime let out a slow breath.
"…Yeah," he said quietly. "I don't really have a choice."
He stepped forward.
The pressure around him stirred again, subtle but undeniable. The ground beneath his feet creaked faintly under the strain.
This time, he didn't let it explode.
He held it.
Barely.
Like trying to contain something far bigger than himself.
The boy took a step back, watching him more carefully now.
Not as prey.
As something else.
"…Interesting," he murmured.
Nime's body ached. His hand burned. His breathing was uneven.
But his eyes stayed locked on his opponent.
Focused.
Sharp.
Different.
"I'm not dying here," he said.
The boy raised his blade again.
"…Good," he replied. "That would've been disappointing."
The space between them tightened once more.
Two figures.
Two fragments.
Two unknown futures.
The next clash would decide more than just survival.
—
From somewhere far beyond the forest, something stirred.
Watching.
Waiting.
—
Back in the clearing, neither of them moved.
Not yet.
But the moment was coming.
And when it did—
It wouldn't be the same fight anymore.
---
End of Chapter 7