Reika was still holding her ground, but it was obvious now—she was losing.
Not because of a lack of skill. No, her technique was sharp, movements graceful, and her blade sang with conviction. But skill only went so far when your opponent had a few hundred years' worth of raw power and a Domain bending reality like a spoiled child with a paper crane. The gap between their mana ranks wasn't a gap—it was a gorge. And she was close to falling in.
Just as the Dullahan's greatsword came swinging with enough force to cleave through reinforced alloy plating, I moved.
One thought.
One feather.
And I was there.
The transition was silent, immediate—no spell circle, no glow, no delay. My hand wrapped around Reika's waist as I spun her behind me, blade already rising to catch the Dullahan's strike. The impact reverberated through my arm, but the angle held. Sparks danced like lightning bugs having a stroke.
