An intense jolt of shock surged through every fiber of Jerom Sol Lucerna's being.
Every single thing that had just happened, every movement, every burst of strength, was absurd. Unbelievable.
And yet, it was reality.
From the moment he'd first encountered this Sanguine boy, from the very first ambush where he'd been caught off guard back at that hall, Jerom had known Malakai was dangerous.
But only now was he beginning to grasp the depth of that danger.
Jerom, like every member of the Lucerna Clan, prided himself on his intelligence and his ability to analyze and comprehend events at a speed few could match.
Their bloodline ability stemmed from the synaptic system, allowing them to control and enhance the speed and efficiency of neural signals.
Their brains processed information at an accelerated rate. Their reflexes were sharper, their awareness heightened, and their senses razor fine.
In battle, this made them nearly untouchable, and they were always, more often than not, one step ahead of their opponents.
But now, even with all those advantages, Jerom couldn't keep up.
He couldn't predict this Sanguine.
It was as if Malakai's mind operated on a completely different wavelength, one he couldn't see, let alone reach.
His combat prowess was terrifying for someone his age. His ability to read and counter enemy movement bordered on precognition.
And his mind… Jerom's heart trembled.
It was his mind that frightened him the most.
From the moment the battle had begun, Malakai's expression hadn't changed, not once.
He was calm. Unnervingly calm. And his expression was icy.
'This won't be easy…'
Jerom clenched the hilt of his sword tighter, just as another impossible scene unfolded before his eyes.
As Malakai forcefully broke free from Kendal's grip, he executed multiple actions in one seamless motion, each more baffling than the last to both Jerom and Kendal.
First, he yanked the gun from its holster, firing two shots almost simultaneously, one aimed straight for Kendal's head, the other at the space on his left waist.
His body twisted mid-motion, the arc of his scythe slashing upward from below in a fluid, vicious stroke.
Yet what truly rattled them wasn't the flurry of attacks, it was the direction of that final slash.
It wasn't even aimed at Kendal, but at empty air, off to his right.
Jerom, who was rushing toward them, narrowed his eyes in confusion.
Kendal's brows furrowed too, but he quickly cleared his mind as his instincts kicked in.
His head snapped to the side, barely dodging the first burst, while the second grazed his waist and zipped off into the distance.
There was a brief silence. Then a scoff escaped Kendal's lips.
A smirk appeared at the corner of his mouth.
"Looks like our little scuffle knocked a few screws loose."
He blamed Malakai's missed strikes on the hit he had just taken.
But in the next instant, a series of high-pitched beeps echoed through the hall.
Jerom's eyes widened sharply. His gaze dropped to Kendal's waist…
It hit him like a landslide.
That water bottle, Malakai had handed it to them earlier. It had been suspicious.
Jerom had considered the possibility that something was off. Perhaps the water was drugged. Maybe infused with poison, anything. But after observing Kendal after he drank it for a while, he'd dismissed the thought.
But now, now he understood.
It was the bottle itself.
"Ken—!" Jerom began, but it was too late.
The beeping intensified, then…
A blast erupted from Kendal's waist, the force of the explosion sending him hurtling violently to the right.
But that wasn't what made Jerom's eyes nearly bulge from their sockets.
It was what came next.
Kendal's head, flung from the force of the blast, had moved directly into the path of the upward scythe slash.
The very one that had been aimed at "empty air."
It wasn't empty. Not anymore.
And in that moment, the realization slammed into Jerom like a hammer.
'He had planned everything.'
Every movement had been deliberate. Planned.
Malakai's scythe carved through flesh, cleaving through Kendal's neck.
Blood sprayed in an arc, the severed head spinning through the air, detached from its body.
But Malakai didn't stop. Not even for a breath.
His mind moved quickly, his body already in motion.
His frame straightened, right leg snapping like a whip
He struck Kendal's severed head like a ball, sending it tearing through the air with terrifying speed, straight at Jerom.
Jerom snapped out of his shock a second too late. His instincts screamed as he darted right, barely dodging the grisly projectile, only for his eyes to widen again.
The gleaming edge of Malakai's scythe was already hurtling toward him in a sweeping arc.
A streak of lightning surged across Jerom's irises, arcing through his body.
His reflexes ignited, his head snapped back just in time, the blade slicing past him by a hair's breadth.
But there was no respite. No pause.
Malakai flowed with the momentum, letting the scythe swing outward and downward, only to twist his body and push the staff with his hand, sending the blade arching upward in a brutal follow-up slash aimed right at Jerom.
Jerom's expression darkened.
If he kept clashing head-on , he'd be carved apart.
His foot slammed against the ground and he pushed hard, body shooting backward, legs skidding across the floor as he retreated.
But Malakai surged forward instantly, chasing Jerom like a reaper with crimson eyes.
Jerom kept moving. His form weaved, slipped, and dodged. He evaded every blow by the narrowest margins, but was unable to find a window to retaliate.
Jerom breathed heavily, sweat dropping from his temple as he stared at the crimson-haired, crimson-eyed Sanguine standing before him.
His sword was raised. Every nerve was on edge, and every muscle tense.
His eyes tracked Malakai's movements carefully as his steps inched sideways in a slow, tense circle.
Malakai mirrored him silently.
And despite this tense moment, a smile suddenly appeared on Jerom's lips. His eyes gleamed.