Talia, Kai, Reese, and Owen kept their stances tense, unsure of what would happen next.
The Black Talon leader’s presence pressed down on them, his sheer strength alone making their bodies instinctively want to step back.
But Kei?
Kei just stood there, grinning.
Orin’s teeth clenched. His voice came out slow, deliberate, seething.
"Since everything is a joke to you, I’ll make sure your death is a comedy."
The words hung in the air, heavy and final.
Then something changed.
Kei’s grin faded.
Not into a frown. Not into anger. Just… gone.
A raised eyebrow. A dead, calm stare.
No amusement. No reaction.
Just silence.
Reese, standing nearby, suddenly felt the wind shift.
It didn’t grow stronger. It didn’t howl.
But it felt… sharper.
His eyes flicked downward, and—
He froze.
There, etched cleanly into the grass beneath Kei’s feet, was a single, unmistakable symbol.
おっ？ (O?)
A simple questioning "Oh?"
It hadn’t been there before.
When did that appear?
Reese swallowed, the whisper of the wind pressing against his skin.
Kei hadn’t moved.
Hadn’t bent down.
Hadn’t carved anything.
And yet—
The ground said otherwise.
Orin’s hands glowed with a sickly green light, his Aether surging as he made his move.
A claw strike cut through the air, heading straight for Kei’s neck.
"Watch out! Don’t let that skeletal hand touch you!" Kai shouted, urgency clear in his voice.
Kei’s body shifted effortlessly.
As Orin’s claw neared, Kei dropped low, his body moving with the attack instead of against it.
The strike passed harmlessly over his head.
And then—
His palm shot forward, driving into Orin’s ribs.
The impact forced Orin to stagger back, his footing momentarily unstable.
Kei exhaled calmly, eyes locked on his opponent.
"Two months in this world."
His fingers flexed, his stance light yet unshakable.
"I’ve fought all kinds of creatures—monsters, beasts, things that shouldn’t even exist."
His gaze flicked toward Orin, watching as he steadied himself.
"But I’ve never fought a human before."
A grin tugged at the corner of Kei’s lips, his fingers shifting into position.
"Seems like I can finally put what I’ve learned to full use."
Orin adjusted his stance, his hands still glowing with that eerie green light.
His claw shot forward—aimed straight for Kei’s chest.
But as it came—
Kei didn’t block.
He simply turned his body, letting the attack slide past him.
Like a breeze through the trees.
Orin’s claw struck nothing but air, its momentum dragging him forward.
Then—
Kei’s palm shot out, not to strike, but to guide.
With the slightest push to Orin’s wrist, Kei redirected the force of the attack away—so smoothly, so effortlessly, it looked like Orin had intended to miss.
Orin stumbled forward, twisting awkwardly from his own strength before quickly regaining balance and spinning to face Kei again.
His eyes narrowed, irritation flashing across his face.
Without hesitation, Orin snapped his leg up, aiming a powerful kick at Kei’s ribs.
Kei moved first.
His foot came down—hard—on Orin’s knee before the kick could even start.
The movement was subtle.
But it completely killed the attack before it could happen.
Orin’s body tensed, the force he had gathered for his strike going nowhere.
Kei’s elbow snapped up, landing squarely against the side of Orin’s head.
Orin staggered, his balance breaking for the first time.
His vision blurred for a moment, but before he could fully recover, Kei’s voice cut through the haze.
"Come on now. You’re a so-called leader. Put more effort in."
Kei’s tone was light, almost teasing.
"I’d rather not embarrass you in front of your little fan club."
Orin’s eyes darkened, burning with frustration.
This was different.
He was used to people meeting him with either fear or pure strength.
But this guy?
Kei wasn’t blocking. Wasn’t tanking. Wasn’t even trading blows.
He was flowing.
Moving as if he already knew where each attack was going.
And shutting them down before they could even begin.
Orin gritted his teeth and surged forward, launching another attack.
His palm shot out, aimed directly for Kei’s throat.
But just as it was about to connect—
Kei’s hand brushed lightly against Orin’s forearm, guiding it aside.
The motion was barely noticeable—subtle, effortless.
Orin’s strike went wide.
And then—
Kei’s fingers pressed against the side of Orin’s elbow joint.
A small touch.
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But it stopped Orin’s arm mid-motion, his entire stance crumbling for a split second.
That was all Kei needed.
His palm shot forward, striking Orin’s chest with a precise, devastating push.
Orin flew back, his feet leaving the ground before he slammed into the dirt.
A heavy silence fell over the crowd.
Eyes widened.
Breaths held.
No one spoke.
Kei simply exhaled, rolling his shoulders.
As if it was nothing.
The Black Talon members stood frozen, still processing what had just happened.
Talia, Kai, Reese, and Owen…
They had known Kei was strong.
But this?
This was different.
For the first time, they truly understood what it meant to fight like the wind.
Orin, breathing heavily, finally stopped moving.
His gaze stayed locked onto Kei.
But this time, it wasn’t reckless.
Kei tilted his head. "Done?"
Orin exhaled slowly.
And then—
He laughed.
It was low, more amused than angry.
"So that’s how it is."
He rolled his shoulders, loosening the tension from his body.
"I see now why those idiots didn’t stand a chance against you."
Kei smirked. "I mean, I tried to warn them. But you know how it is—people don’t like listening."
Orin’s lips twitched, caught between irritation and something else.
Talia just stared at Kei.
And for the first time since they met…
She actually felt a little scared of him.
Then—
From his inventory, Orin pulled out a greatsword.
The massive blade emerged in his hands with a low, echoing hum, its jagged black edge etched with faint, sickly green veins of Aether.
The moment it left his inventory, the air around it grew heavier.
Kei’s eyes flicked to the weapon.
He exhaled.
"Oh? You’re still going?"
Orin gripped the hilt tightly, the glow of Waning Death flickering along the blade’s edge.
"You think I was taking you seriously before?"
Kei’s grin returned.
"Oh? Then by all means—let’s see what happens when you do."
As if prompted by Kei’s request, Orin took in a deep breath, his chest expanding unnaturally.
Then—
He exhaled, spewing forth a thick, decaying mist that seeped into the air around him.
Kei’s nose wrinkled. “That’s disgusting.”
He quickly moved back, avoiding the spreading haze.
Glancing down at the grass beneath his feet, he noticed something alarming—the vibrant green shriveling into blackened husks where the mist touched.
Decay.
Orin chuckled darkly. "What’s wrong? Not so funny now, huh?"
He tilted his head, his expression twisted in amusement.
"Weren’t you so eager to stay close to me just a second ago?"
Without waiting for an answer, Orin surged forward, his greatsword cleaving through the air.
Kei’s body reacted instinctively, his form blurring as he leapt backward.
But the mist clung to Orin like a barrier, swirling around him.
A layer of decay protecting him.
Orin’s grin widened. "Now you only know how to run? You seemed so brave a moment ago. Now you’re just a coward."
He pressed the attack, swinging relentlessly.
Kei weaved between the strikes, redirecting the force of each one just before they could fully connect.
But Orin’s onslaught didn’t let up.
A sudden shift in momentum—
Orin’s blade came down faster than expected, catching Kei just out of position.
With no time to fully dodge, Kei’s foot lashed out, kicking the flat side of the greatsword mid-swing.
The force redirected the weapon, knocking it slightly off course—
But the impact sent Kei flying.
He barely had time to recover before—
A skeletal hand shot toward him.
Kei’s body twisted midair, barely managing to avoid its grasp.
But something felt off.
His movements weren’t as sharp.
His body felt slower. Heavier.
A sinking feeling crawled up his spine.
His eyes flicked toward his status screen.
A notification blinked in front of him.
[Status: Sluggish (Agility reduced by 15%)]
Kei clicked his tongue. "Tch. That’s annoying."
Orin’s grin stretched wider as he saw Kei’s realization.
"Oh? Finally noticed?"
He rolled his shoulders, the mist still lingering around him.
Orin’s grin widened, confidence bleeding into his tone.
"Let me explain—
That sword you so bravely touched?"
He dragged the flat of the blade along his palm, the eerie green glow of Waning Death pulsing along its jagged edge.
"It’s coated by a skill of mine that reduces your agility. But that’s not all…"
Kei’s eyes flicked to his status screen again.
The sluggishness in his movements wasn’t just from the strike—it was something deeper, something anchoring his energy.
[Skill Name]: Gravebind
[Description]:
By making physical contact, Orin can anchor a portion of an opponent’s energy to him, forcing their movements to become sluggish.
[Effects]:
- Reduces target's agility by 15% upon activation.
- If sustained for longer than five seconds, it begins draining Aether.
- Can be layered for stronger effects, though requires multiple successful touches.
Orin laughed, watching Kei test his slowed movement.
"See, you got lucky that time—just a glancing hit. But if I land another one?"
He lifted his sword, the mist swirling thicker around him.
"I’ll bleed your speed dry. And after that… your Aether’s next."
Kei rolled his shoulders, adjusting his stance, feeling out the sluggishness.
Then, despite the situation—
He smiled.
"Well… that just makes things more interesting."
Orin’s mocking tone carried through the decayed mist.
"Trying to be brave? Keep at it, might do you some good—
Up until you die."
He raised his hand, and translucent skeletal hands burst forth, clawing through the air, reaching for Kei.
Their sickly green glow pulsed ominously, the very air around them growing heavy as they surged toward him.
Kei groaned. "You know, that’s really starting to get annoying."
The ghostly limbs lunged, seeking to grasp onto him, their presence already sapping energy from the air itself.
But Kei folded into the wind—vanishing.
His presence melted into the currents, his body blurring out of the mist’s reach, as if he had never been there to begin with.
Orin’s eyes snapped around, his skeletal hands still grasping at empty air.
A moment later, Kei reappeared, crouched low near where his weapon had fallen.
His fingers wrapped around the Windblade Staff, lifting it with ease.
Then, he stood, pointing the staff directly at Orin.
"Alright. Let’s see what this can really do."
Kei’s Aether surged, but this time, he didn’t just rely on Breeze Force.
Instead—
Something deeper stirred inside him.
Something dormant. Untamed.
The power of the Stormwind Fellhorn.
The Windblade Staff reacted immediately, the twin-branch design channeling energy through its spiraled form.
Not just any wind—
Storm Wind.
The air around him crackled, charged with raw intensity, as if a storm was coiling in his hands.
Kei’s grip tightened, and the staff hummed, glowing with a faint silver sheen, wind spiraling along its length.
Then—
He thrust it forward.
The gathered wind compressed, forming into tight, invisible projectiles—
And then they fired.
A barrage of storm-charged wind bullets ripped through the air, each one infused with the unpredictable force of a raging tempest.
Unlike normal wind attacks, these weren’t just sharp—
They carried momentum, force, and impact, the same way a hurricane could bend steel.
Orin barely had time to react before the first one slammed into him, his body jerking back from the force.
Another followed.
Then another.
Each hit pounded against his defenses, forcing him to retreat step by step.
His skeletal hands crumbled into mist, unable to maintain their form under the chaotic bursts of storm-infused wind.
The swirling decay around him wavered, struggling to hold against the sheer power of nature’s wrath.
Kei grinned.
"Not so fun when you’re the one being pressured, huh?"
Kei vanished into the wind, his body dissolving into the currents.
A fraction of a second later—
He reappeared directly in front of Orin.
Orin’s eyes narrowed, unfazed. "Tsk. An idiot you are."
Without hesitation, he swung his greatsword, expecting the mist around him to decay anything in its reach.
But—
The mist didn’t cling to Kei.
It didn’t corrode his skin.
Instead—
It refused to touch him.
Orin’s brow furrowed. The mist around his sword wavered—
No.
It was being pushed away.
Kei’s Aether surged as he instinctively wrapped himself in Breeze Force, creating an armor of wind that redirected the decay just as easily as he had redirected Orin’s attacks.
A soft, unseen barrier of moving air surrounded him, gently but persistently pushing the mist aside—a constant stream of motion that made it impossible for the decay to cling to him.
Orin’s expression darkened.
Orin glanced at his skills, quickly analysing his abilities.
[Skills]
[Skill Name]: Pale Hand
[Description]:
Manifests a translucent skeletal hand that grasps the target, draining vitality on contact. The longer the grip is maintained, the more stamina, energy, and minor physical attributes are sapped.
[Effects]:
- Inflicts gradual weakness to Strength and Dexterity.
- Can lock onto a target's limb, slowing movement.
- Targets with low Willpower may experience temporary numbness.
[Skill Name]: Gravebind
[Description]:
By making physical contact, Orin can anchor a portion of an opponent’s energy to him, forcing their movements to become sluggish.
[Effects]:
- Reduces target's Agility by 15% upon activation.
- If sustained for longer than five seconds, it begins draining Aether.
- Can be layered for stronger effects, though requires multiple successful touches.
[Skill Name]: Death’s Breath
[Description]:
Releases a decaying mist in a small radius that corrodes organic matter and weakens durability.
[Effects]:
- Armor and weapons caught in the mist begin deteriorating, reducing effectiveness.
- Living creatures suffer mild stamina drain while inside.
- Can be directed through movement, allowing Orin to control its spread.
Orin’s eyes flickered with realization.
Nothing was working.
His mist was useless. His skeletal hands couldn’t reach him. His attacks were being guided away.
That left him with one last option.
His best chance—
Gravebind.
Orin lunged forward, feinting with his sword, then swiping at Kei with his free hand.
Kei raised his arm to deflect—
Contact.
The moment Orin’s hand touched Kei’s arm, a dark surge of Aether pulsed between them.
A connection formed.
Kei felt it immediately.
His Aether was being pulled away.
Orin’s body shuddered as a euphoric sensation washed over him, his own energy swelling as Kei’s was siphoned into him.
"Hahahaha!" Orin laughed, his voice dripping with exhilaration.
His muscles tensed with new power, his stance firmer, stronger.
"You’re not so tough now, huh?"
Kei, however—
Didn’t share the sentiment.
All he could hear—
All he could feel—
Was the Aether crying.
A desperate plea. A sadness that dug deep into his bones.
It wasn’t just energy being drained.
It was being ripped away.
"Let's see how you handle being weakened." Orin sneered.
The Black Talon members erupted into cheers, their voices echoing through the clearing.
They watched their leader winning, overpowering his opponent, and they relished it.
They chanted. They praised.
They taunted Kei, mocking his struggle as Orin continued draining him, leeching away his Aether like a parasite.
To them, this fight was already over.
But—
Talia, Reese, Owen, and Kai weren’t cheering.
They weren’t taunting.
They weren’t smiling.
Because this fight felt different.
Because Kei felt different.
From the moment this battle started, the Kei they knew—the one who joked, who teased, who laughed through every fight—
Wasn’t here.
This Kei was something else.
There was no carefree attitude. No playfulness.
No silly remarks. No smirking confidence.
This Kei felt like he was out for blood.
And worse—
He was enjoying it.
Then—
They saw it.
In Kei’s hand.
A glint of white.
Bone.
The bone projectiles.
And when they looked at his face, at his unblinking, empty gaze, they saw something else.
His eyes.
They burned.
Not with Aether.
Not with force.
But with an eerie, unnatural orange glow.
And then—
They heard it.
A single word.
Spoken flatly. Calmly.
"Five."
Their stomachs turned.
And for the first time since this fight began—
They were worried about Orin’s safety.