"Oh, so you don’t dodge attacks?" Shooting said, her eyes glinting with a sharp, dangerous curiosity. "Well, that certainly makes things interesting."
She didn’t give Darno a second to breathe. Pulling her wooden sword back, she unleashed a flurry of rapid-fire thrusts, the tip of the bokken being a blurred needle of cedar aimed directly at his vitals. Darno’s expression tightened as he shifted into a purely reactive state. He couldn’t afford to be sloppy; he had to focus every ounce of his concentration on slapping the strikes away at the exact millisecond of impact, knocking them off their trajectory just enough to save his skin.
He couldn’t afford to swing his heavy arms too widely; if he overmitted to a parry, he wouldn’t be able to pull his guard back in time to catch the next lightning-fast jab. His opponent was a master of speed and precision, and she was exploiting his stationary stance with ruthless efficiency.
’It’s not that I don’t want to dodge these attacks, but because of my damned Vow, I literally can’t move!’ Darno was screaming internally, his frustration reaching a boiling point. His entire martial arts philosophy was built on the foundation of blocking a hit and immediately counter-attacking, but with an opponent utilizing the superior reach of a weapon, he was trapped in a defensive loop, unable to bridge the gap.
From the outside, it looked like a high-stakes performance. Both the Billion Bloodline members and the women of the Fallen Rose stood back, watching the exchange with bated breath.
"These guys are actually pretty good," Sarah mented, her hand resting casually on her hip as she appraised the scene. "Maybe we should have taken that job after all, just to test ourselves. Or maybe this guy is just a one-off fluke of strength."
Driven by a sudden, impulsive need to test that theory, Sarah kicked the end of her wooden sword, sending it spinning up from the floor. She caught it mid-air, her body rotating in a fluid, acrobatic motion as she launched herself toward the nearest Bloodline member. She aimed a stinging strike directly at the man’s face, a blow he clearly hadn’t anticipated, until a hand shot out from the periphery and caught the wooden blade in a crushing grip.
The sword was held perfectly still, the momentum of her leap neutralized in an instant.
"What do you think you’re doing?" Stephen asked, his voice low and vibrating with annoyance. "You people came here requesting a formal meeting, and now you’re just attacking random members of my staff?"
Sarah’s cocky grin faltered, replaced by a flicker of genuine nerves. She prided herself on her situational awareness, yet she hadn’t sensed this man’s approach at all. He had moved with a ghostly, unnatural speed, appearing at her side as if he had teleported. More concerning was the grip he had on her weapon; despite the force of her thrust, he held the wood as if it were a stationary iron bar.
Stephen flung his hand out, dismissively throwing the sword back. Sarah managed to keep her hold on the hilt, but she was staggered by the sheer physical displacement.
The reason Stephen was able to react with such overwhelming force was twofold: his Vow had granted him the necessary speed, but the hidden exoskeleton beneath his clothes provided the structural power to halt a full-velocity strike without breaking a sweat.
"You are guests here," Stephen warned, his gaze sweeping over the women. "You should start acting like it before we’re forced to teach all of you a lesson in hospitality."
Stephen was genuinely irritated. He viewed the students and members before him as his responsibility, and seeing them being bullied by visitors was something he couldn’t tolerate. However, he didn’t realize that his words, which would usually serve as a deterrent, only acted as fuel for this particular group.
"Oh, a challenge!" Sarah laughed, her eyes widening with excitement. "Well, bring it on then! e on, Vera, we’ve got this! We might as well finish the job while we’re actually at the base. I didn’t realize this was the real reason you brought us here!"
Vera, standing in the center of the mounting chaos, was turning her head frantically from left to right. She was desperate to quell the fighting, but she was drowning in the noise. Things were spiraling out of control with terrifying speed, and she felt like she was on the verge of a total collapse, until she saw a familiar figure walking toward them from the elevators.
"MAX!"
Vera’s scream was so sudden and shrill that it actually cut through the din of the fighting. At the sound of her voice, the Bloodline members froze instantly, their eyes snapping to the man approaching. The Fallen Rose members, seeing their leader’s shocked reaction, followed suit, their wooden swords lowering.
As Vera stared at Max, the soul of the girl within her, Abby, felt a wave of overwhelming emotion. She had truly believed she would never see him again. Every memory of the day before her "death," the time she had spent in Max’s orbit, began to play on a loop in her mind. She wanted to run to him, but she knew she couldn’t show that kind of vulnerability, not here, and certainly not in front of her fierce subordinates.
"What the...? Max, you actually know this guy?" Shooting asked, her head snapping between her leader and the newer.
"You idiots," Darno grunted, rubbing his bruised arm as he stepped back. "If you’re here to have a high-level meeting with our Boss, you should at least have the mon sense to know what the Boss looks like."
As the members of the Fallen Rose fully disengaged, they watched in stunned silence as every single member of the Billion Bloodline in the room bowed their heads in a thunderous, unified salute.
"WE WELE THE BOSS!"
Max rubbed the back of his neck, a weary sigh escaping his lips as he took in the wreckage of the training hall. "Seriously... when did you guys start doing this coordinated shouting thing? It’s a bit much."
"Wait, it’s true?" Shooting whispered, her jaw dropping as she looked at the young man standing before them. "That kid... is the Boss?"
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