Sil’s feet slid across the night road as she landed, coming to a steady stop. The clay wall crashed down far less delicately, smashing on impact. Her opponent, though hardly graceful, landed with similar skill—albeit while shouting erratically.

  “You and your stupid clay!” he yelled, patches of blond hair bouncing as he shook his head. “Stupid, stupid!”

  Sil remained silent, uncertain what exactly was happening.

  “Well!?” he snapped. “Got anything to say for yourself?”

  “What do you want me to—?”

  “Stupid, stupid! You’re all well and truly stupid!”

  “Hey!” Sil screamed back. “Don’t tell me to talk and then interrupt me!”

  “You interrupted me!”

  “Did not!”

  “Did so!”

  Heavens, this man was insane. Whether or not that worked to her advantage… she couldn’t yet say.

  “Well?!” her opponent shouted. “Are we going to fight?”

  “We would be if you hadn’t interrupted me!”

  “Ooooh, I’m going to kill you so good.”

  He charged at Sil, blade drawn, as if he’d finally received permission to engage. A strange fellow indeed. Sil drew her daggers, and the two scrambled into a flurry of attacks, slashes exchanged at a speed only mana could sustain.

  Sil ducked and rolled back as his blade sliced overhead. A few paces separated them, neither bearing a significant wound. Then, surprisingly, he lowered his blade and raised his other hand, index finger pointed.

  Unsure what to expect, Sil stomped her foot. A burst of clay shot from the ground, flying up to block her face. A laser of mana fired toward her, piercing the clay with ease and searing a strand of hair from her head, narrowly missing as she tilted aside. She heard the wall behind her sizzle as the beam tore through that too, continuing who-knows-how-far.

  “Damn,” he said. “Why’d you move?”

  “What do you mean, why did I move?!”

  “If you hadn’t, it would’ve hit you.”

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  “I know that!” Sil shouted. “Don’t you think that—”

  “Please stop talking.”

  Sil was flabbergasted.

  “Okay,” he said, raising his hand again. “Stay still this time!”

  Sil conjured an array of heavenly parchment. It unfurled and twisted like a loose ribbon, extending outward and anchoring to various protrusions on the nearby houses. The laser fired again—an alarming concentration of mana that tore through everything in its path. Sil launched into motion, dragged in sharp, erratic directions by the parchment’s mana-fueled grip.

  “Stay still, I said!” her opponent shouted.

  This was near the pinnacle of Sil’s speed. The limits of normal bodily reflexes took a back seat as the parchment maneuvered her across the street in a hundred directions. With this technique, she was less like a fighter and more like a rogue children’s toy ball, bouncing wildly out of control. But she was in control—every movement calculated as best she could manage.

  The man continued firing his deadly beams, failing to land a single hit.

  “Stop, stop, stop!”

  With an immense gathering of momentum, she struck him in the back, silencing him instantly. Spit flew from his mouth as he rag-dolled across the street, screaming as he collided with the shattered remnants of the clay wall.

  “Don’t tell me…” Sil muttered, her mind reeling at the thought that crossed it. “That beam—is that your Levula?!”

  “So what if it is?!” he screamed back.

  It was true then. Sil was fighting a complete failure of a fighter.

  ◇─◇──◇─◇

  Blū performed a flurry of kicks among shattered clay, each one deflected by his opponent. The man was taller, broader—but slower. Blū landed a strike on the man’s nose, then quickly switched technique, following up with a punch. His opponent sidestepped, then countered with a punch of his own. Blū bent back to dodge, corrected his stance, then flipped over the man, hoping to land a high kick. Foot and forearm met in an explosive clash as his opponent blocked the attack, grinning.

  For a second—at the moment of impact—Blū could’ve sworn the man’s skin changed, becoming unnaturally dark and metallic… then normal again. Only for an instant, but—he could’ve sworn...

  “Good technique,” the man said.

  Blū pulled back, his foot sore. The man’s surface was far harder than expected, even accounting for mana.

  “You’re one of those monks, aren’t you?” the man chuckled. His off-putting stare was marked by strange red pupils. His bald head glistened under the night’s blue gleam.

  “What does that matter?”

  “I’ve always preferred prey that fights back.”

  Blū smiled. “Well, I like confidence in mine.”

  The enemy burst out laughing. “What’s your name, boy?!”

  “You always waste time with stupid questions?”

  “Humor me. I like to remember the faces of those I’ve crushed.”

  “That so? Then I suppose it’d be nice to recall this moment.”

  “Jug.”

  “Blū. Now, are we continuing?”

  Jug nodded.

  Blū rushed forward, fists colliding with Jug’s in a flurry of rapid impacts. Their limbs swung with purpose and fury, weaving around each other like a storm. Blū could read the intention in every strike. The constant collisions sent waves through the air, each one filled with passion.

  Blū leapt back, dodging two more punches—and dropped into a crouch. He sprang up when the opening showed itself, delivering a kick to the chest infused with more mana than any blow he’d landed that night.

  This time, he saw it clearly. As his foot hit, Jug’s body transformed. His skin glimmered in the blue light—just long enough to neutralize the blow. He’d turned to metal.

  “Now you see,” Jug said, chuckling maniacally. “There are some things men just weren’t meant to break… Blū!”