Stealing the show

"....."

Outside the inn, which stood as a rustic wooden structure, common to any traveler in the world of Ky'lar.

(Rustle...)

Under an ancient oak, Shija sat in a posture with his spine straight and both shoulders relaxed backward, keeping his chest open, his body motionless in a deep meditation.

"..."

However, Shija was not still.

(Fshh!)

His right hand, wrapped in an impeccable bandage, rested on the pommel of his katana, slicing an autumnal, red, and dying leaf that detached from the tree.

(Fwoosh! ... Ziiip! ... Vwiiish!)

Before the leaf traveled the first centimeter, an almost inaudible sound—the friction of the steel against the air—sliced it cleanly in half.

(Shing...)

Then, the katana was unsheathed barely one millimeter.

(Pfff... Chirp!... Flickers!)

Whereupon a gust of ten other simultaneously falling leaves was reduced to a shower of microscopic confetti that scattered silently.

Shija had not moved his torso; only the centrifugal force of his wrist unleashed the lethal precision of his sword, maintaining his calm while dozens of leaves detached only to be sliced in an instant, covering the ground with a fine organic dust that was the only trace of his practice.

(Chrriiiiiicck...)

Whereupon, in the middle of his concentration, the main door of the inn opened with a normal, though slightly prolonged, squeak.

"... So it is you."

Shija interrupted his flow, slowly opening his eyes, revealing a cold glint.

"Agh, a-aghh!"

Thus, Shija watched Boudica stumble out, disheveled, her clothes wrinkled and covered in dirt and a faint smell of mold, raising both hands to her scalp, beginning to scratch with excessive, nervous violence, as if trying to remove an invisible infestation.

"What... what happened...?"

Her face was contorted by genuine confusion as she stopped halfway.

"What was that scream? And where the hell am I? Why does my head hurt so much? I don't remember anything after hearing...! That scream."

"...."

Hearing that, Shija remained seated, analyzing the warrior.

(Amnesia, superficial irritation.)

Shija then came to the conclusion that the "wail" had erased the memories of the traumatic moment.

"You appear to have suffered a seizure. You just walked out of the inn."

The swordsman simply spoke; his voice was a flat tone of cold indifference.

"A seizure? Me?"

In response, Boudica scratched one last time.

"It doesn't matter. And the stupid monster? Where is he?"

"..."

In response, Shija slightly tilted his head, evaluating the potential threat before answering.

"He seems to be in repose."

But it was in that moment, just as Shija had given his answer, mentally lowering his guard while assessing Boudica's stability...

"Boo!"

... That in that instant of distraction, reality twisted.

"?!"

A sharp, playful scream, like that of a child, resonated directly in his ear, though the voice was accompanied by a serene and mature nuance that chilled the blood in Shija's veins.

(Impossible?!)

The swordsman, whose life was based on absolute perception, felt a chilling presence behind him, so sudden and intimate that his nervous system collapsed for a fraction of a second.

(I couldn't feel her!!)

The intrusion was impossible; his synchronization with the environment was perfect, but the intruder behind him had moved beyond the pulse of the world...

(Zasssh! Zassh! Zassh!)

And in a burst of animal speed, Shija retreated, leaping back and unsheathing his katana with the fluidity of lightning.

(Swish! Thwack! Zing! ...Flick-flick-flick!)

With no time to think, his body acted purely on instinct, attacking and unleashing a whirlwind of swift and supremely precise cuts in seconds. Every cut was a pure line of death, calculated for the head, neck, heart, and limbs.

"Well, you jumped right into the attack!"

In the brief interval during the attack, Shija saw the figure before him who, with a fragile build and serene expression, displayed a relaxed smile.

That figure had healthy, hydrated, elastic, smooth skin with no signs of premature aging, highlighting bright silver hair with streaks of a vibrant green and different colored eyes: one, of a pure, inert white, and the other, a reptilian gold that seemed to contain the knowledge of ages within it.

(Vsssh! Vsssh! Vsssh!)

That figure wore a lace dress predominantly dominated by a deep night violet, almost black, on the main body, while the lace and ruffles were a slate dark gray that absorbed the light.

(Who exactly?!)

Even the canvas straitjacket, which had barely been ripped to allow for movement, looked strangely elegant over the dark outfit, as if it were a cult garment.

(Whooosh-whooosh-whooosh)

"Well, well. Are you asking yourself who exactly I am?"

The figure simply smiled, her mouth twisting into a playful and completely dispassionate grin.

(Vsssh! Fzzzt... Vsssh! Whip... Vsssh! Ssk...)

Shija could not comprehend it: there the figure stood, dodging the flurry of cuts without moving a single millimeter from her position.

"Come on, come on, try much harder!"

The cuts had not passed through her; instead, they had somehow failed their target by themselves.

"Come on, pay attention~!"

As Shija watched, the figure made a slight, almost imperceptible movement with her shoulder: a muscle contraction so minimal that it displaced no air.

(Fzzzt...)

That movement was enough. The pulse of Shija's last cut, traveling through the air, vanished; its trajectory diverted to nothing.

"Hmm... Your sound is not bad... But I'm getting bored..."

It was as if the figure had synchronized her own pulse with the logic of the attack, rewriting the position of her body in space so that the blade, upon reaching its destination, was simply in the wrong place.

"Don't underestimate me!"

The swordsman then tightened his grip on his katana.

"You know..."

But before Shija could respond or launch a new attack, the figure tilted her head, her smile widening into a gesture of pure enjoyment.

"I think I'll add some rhythm to this."

Saying this, she raised her arm with theatrical grace, pointing directly at Shija with her index finger, like a child playing war.

"!!"

Whereupon Shija, whose instinct was screaming at a level he had never before experienced, perceived the danger so acutely that his mind did not hesitate.

(Thwoomp!)

Immediately, Shija retreated, covering himself with his sword in an absolute defensive guard.

"Here we go..."

However, despite that action...

"... Bang."

... The impact was impossible to avoid.

(BLAM!)

The sound was a playful whisper, but for Shija, it was a cannon blast.

"BLUARG!!"

He felt nothing. There was no air pressure, no shockwave, no fire, and no magical flash.

(WHUMPFF!)

His body, armored by skill and plating, registered no impact whatsoever until, suddenly, the blow connected.

(WOOSH!)

It was a purely existential blow.

(What kind of technique is this?!)

The world dissolved in an internal tremor that broke the swordsman's focus. Shija felt as if an invisible mountain had struck him in the center of his chest with a pain beyond a physical hit; the impact was, instead, like the violation of his own reality.

(CRACK! THUD! SMASH!)

His body was launched backward with colossal force. His defensive guard was useless, as the attack seemed not to exist until she spoke and the effect became reality.

(BLUMM!)

The warrior retreated, his back slamming against the trunk of an oak with a force that shook the tree. Then, he ricocheted and slammed against a second and a third, finally stopping several meters away, where he fell to his knees.

"Gaghh!"

The swordsman spat a mouthful of dark blood onto the ground.

(It makes no sense!! I didn't feel any kind of impact until it connected, as if the attack existed on a plane my perception couldn't reach!)

His mind, incapable of processing the logic of what had happened, was in unprecedented chaos.

"What... are you?"

Shija raised his gaze toward the figure, his eyes filled with a mixture of shock and cold fury.

"I already made my introduction previously, but why not one more time!"

Melioris, unconcerned by the injured swordsman or the confused warrior, struck a theatrical pose and made a peace sign with her fingers, spinning around.

(BOOOM!!)

And in that precise instant, a powerful energy explosion of no clear origin detonated behind her, not for destructive purposes, but, instead, with the objective of being purely scenic.

"Pleasure to meet you! Making her reappearance..."

The smoke and flash surrounded her for a second, and when it dissipated, Melioris stood still and winked toward Shija.

"Melioris makes her reappearance~!"

"HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!"

However, confronted with such an absurd scene, Boudica attacked with a scream of frustration and blind fury; the warrior charged toward the figure.

"Did you just interrupt me...?"

Boudica threw a direct punch, charged with the strength of a wounded beast.

"It seems you need punishment."

But Melioris, without even bothering to look at the approaching warrior, reacted with absolute indifference, tilting her head barely a few centimeters to the right, dodging the fist that whistled past her face by millimeters.

"Reflect!"

And snapping her fingers with a crisp sound as the only warning.

(Click!)

Just like the attack on Shija, the invisible blow became reality.

"Ptuugh!"

Boudica, at the height of her charge, received a concentrated and brutal impact directly to the face. It was not a punch; it was the synchronization of the effect.

"Too much impatience, darling. Rhythm is essential."

The warrior was sent flying through the air, her body spinning uncontrollably until she impacted violently against the ground. The blow was so precise that there was no need for another attack, leaving Boudica knocked out.

"Now, dear guide, is that what you call yourself...?"

After that, the figure directed her gaze back to the severely wounded Shija on the ground.

"Do you want to continue?"

And she merely limited herself to asking.