“Jared…” Yuliana breathed his name, the syllables trembling on the edge of a warning. Yuliana stepped in front of Jared, slim shoulders squared against danger. She understood his power, yet Oronin‘s mastery of space nascence lurked like a hidden blade. If that fiend sealed them inside his private dimension, rescue would be impossible, entering would mean surrendering their lives.
“Trust me. I’ve got this.” Jared’s smile was small, confident, and meant for alone. Across the courtyard, Aurelius caught the look passing between the two and instantly pieced together exactly what had transpired.
That molten gaze, the one lovers shared after shattering their final restraint, needed no interpreter.
Infinides watched them and sighed. Jared scattered affection like wildflower seeds, the old abbot could no longer shield every disciple from his charm.
Flaxseed shuffled close, voice a conspiratorial rasp. “Jared, if you’re set on facing Oronin, want me to sneak you a couple of charms?”
“No need,” Jared said, laughter rumbling low. “That punk’s not worth dirty tricks…”
“All right, suit yourself, but stay alive.” Flaxseed‘s grin turned wicked. “So you and Yuliana, are you two, you know, involved? Those eyes of hers say things.”
“No. We haven’t crossed the last line,” Jared shook his head, though color bloomed at his ears.
“Can’t be…” Flaxseed’s disbelief was absolute. “She looks at you like already belongs to you, and you to her.”
“Seriously, nothing yet,” Jared muttered, rubbing his neck. “Well… I might have, uh, kissed somewhere intimate.”
“D*mn.” Flaxseed froze, then thrust up a thumb. “You play wild. Respect…”
“If you’re so eager to die, hurry up!” Oronin called, patience fraying. He tapped a boot, spatial energy fizzing like warped glass around him.
Jared strode forward, a cold smile carving his face. “I usually avoid hitting kids, but today, that doesn’t apply.”
He finished the sentence with his fist, launching it before Oronin could draw breath.
“Sacred Light Fist!”
Gold brilliance detonated. Jared’s knuckles swelled to the size of a boulder, the strike roaring down like a newborn sun.
A blast of gold exploded across the battlefield. In that blinding flare, Jared’s fist, broad as a boulder, whistled through the haze, carving the air on a direct collision course with Oronin’s face.
Oronin’s pupils tightened to pin-pricks, yet the boyish lord did not panic. He let his body drift backward several yards, light as smoke, slipping past the hammering blow at the last possible breath.
Jared’s knuckles struck open earth.
A deafening boom rolled over the field as the ground caved inward, leaving a crater a full man’s height deep while shards of stone sprayed skyward and dust boiled around them.
“Interesting…” Oronin brushed grit from his linen sleeve, the first hint of gravity clouding his youth-bright features. “No wonder you dared to taunt me. You carry a heavier punch than that Half-Beast King Imorn ever managed.”
A cold grin tugged at Jared’s mouth. He shifted his stance and flickered forward, a golden phantom, fists firing one after another with merciless rhythm.
Every strike blazed with searing brilliance, the wind of each punch honed to knife-edges that forced Oronin into constant evasive sweeps.
Jared moved too fast for the naked eye. Golden after-images laced the arena, weaving an airtight net of light that folded in on Oronln from every angle.
“How can anyone move so fast?”
Perched halfway up the slope, Leonel blurted, “Jared’s footwork isn’t a hair slower than Oronin‘s!”
Yuliana’s fingers knotted in the hem of robe.
Worry shimmered in eyes, yet beneath it lived an unshakable faith, had witnessed Jared’s power and knew recklessness was never his vice.
Aurelius stroked his beard; despair drained from his cheeks, replaced by a cautious spark of hope. “The boy was hiding deeper than we guessed. Perhaps truly can topple Oronin.”
Inside the dust-choked ring, Oronin dodged dozens of blows before one grazing fist clipped his shoulder.
Liquid gold spiritual energy knifed into his flesh. He grunted, staggered two steps, and the struck fabric charred into a smoking hole while the sour scent of burnt cloth curled in the air.
