Agastya’s eyes were fixed entirely on Kael’s weaving hands. The Vanguard operative's movements were fluid and hypnotic, as if designed to obscure the true angle of attack. Agastya assassin's instincts focus on the micro-shifts in Kael’s shoulders and the pivot of his hips.
Slowly, Agastya began to mirror him. He raised his open palms, cutting through the air in a counter-rhythm. His wrists rolled and flexed, matching the serpentine flow. Seeing the shift in defense, Kael paused his weaving.
Up on the observation balcony, Torin crossed his massive, tree-trunk arms. The bulky bruiser frowned, his red eyes narrowing. "What is the rookie doing? He isn't squaring up."
Dictor leaned over the iron railing, the playful grin finally slipping from his face. "He's matching Mortis's tempo. That shouldn't be possible for an unconditioned civilian."
For a fraction of a second, the arena below was dead silent.
Then, they blurred.
They closed the remaining distance in a heartbeat. Kael lunged, his right hand whipping forward like a striking cobra. The sheer speed of the thrust compressed the air, aiming a localised burst of pressurised wind directly at Agastya’s jugular.
Agastya didn't retreat. His unique, hyper-lethal technique relied on seamlessly weaving supernatural principles into mortal strikes. As Kael's palm neared his throat, Agastya stepped slightly off the centerline.
His hand shot up, but instead of trying to catch the blindingly fast strike, he forcefully slapped the outside of Kael’s wrist. The sharp smack of skin on skin echoed like a gunshot, violently deflecting the attack wide and breaking Kael's kinetic chain. Kael's fingers jabbed empty air mere inches past Agastya's ear.
"Oh! So you know this move!" Kael exclaimed, genuine surprise breaking his clinical drone.
"It's easier to cut a snake's head off than to try and catch it," Agastya replied coldly.
The air immediately shrieked as Kael whipped his left hand around in a brutal, sweeping backhand. Agastya mirrored his previous motion, snapping his forearm up to meet Kael’s wrist. Bone clashed against bone with a dull thud.
Using the momentary opening created by the block, Agastya slipped fully inside Kael’s guard. He planted his back foot, twisting his hips to drive a heavy, piston-like punch aimed directly to shatter Kael's floating ribs.
But Kael was a veteran for a reason.
Instead of jumping back, Kael dropped his centre of gravity. He caught Agastya’s extending arm, one hand gripping the wrist and the other clamping down just above the elbow. Using Agastya’s own forward momentum against him, Kael violently threw his weight backward, launching himself into a mid-air backflip.
Agastya’s instincts screamed. The shift in leverage was so sudden, so flawlessly executed, that his conscious mind couldn't track the loss of gravity.
As Kael inverted in the air, he used his iron grip to yank Agastya downward, destroying the baker's balance violently. At the exact apex of the flip, Kael released his grip and whipped his body around, driving a brutal, spinning backhand directly into Agastya’s face.
The impact was devastating. The knuckles crashed into Agastya's cheekbone, snapping his head violently to the left. His vision flashed a blinding white, accompanied by the high-pitched ringing of a mild concussion.
Agastya stumbled sideways, his boots skidding across the floor as he coughed up a mouthful of hot, metallic blood. He forced his head back to centre, his jaw throbbing with a dull, agonising ache that rattled all the way to his teeth.
On the balcony, the orange-haired woman flinched. "That’s it. Call it, Captain. Kael just scrambled his brains."
Captain Alice Regina didn't move. Her silver eyes remained locked, calculating. "Look at his feet, Ulsani. He isn't falling."
Down in the ring, Kael landed lightly on his feet, rolling his shoulders to disperse the tension. "Wow," Kael noted, his tone shifting into something dangerously playful. "You are actually still conscious after that."
Agastya didn't answer. He spat a thick wad of blood onto the pristine ground, wiping his chin with the back of his hand. Feigning the reckless anger of a brawler, Agastya lunged, throwing a heavy, wildly telegraphed right cross.
Kael easily brought his left arm up to parry the sloppy punch, but he had fallen for the bait.
The moment Kael's forearm made contact, Agastya instantly opened his fist. His fingers curled, clamping down on Kael’s wrist like a steel vice.
Before Kael could retract his arm, Agastya violently yanked the operative forward and down. The sudden jerk completely shattered Kael's pristine guard, pulling his chest right into Agastya's striking zone.
With zero hesitation, Agastya stepped in and drove his left fist directly into Kael’s solar plexus, burying his knuckles deep into the muscle.
"Argh!" Kael grunted violently, the breath exploding from his lungs in a rush of air as his body folded instinctively around the pain.
Torin gripped the balcony rail so hard the iron groaned. "He just out-grappled Mortis. A baker just broke Mortis's guard."
For a split second, Kael looked up from his hunched position, his dark eyes shining with a sudden, feral intensity. "You…."
Refusing to yield to the agonising pain in his gut, Kael immediately dropped low, planting both of his palms flat on the floor. Using his arms as a fulcrum, he compressed his core and launched a devastating, acrobatic upward kick directly under Agastya's chin.
The heavy leather boot connected with the sound of a cracking whip. The sheer upward force lifted Agastya entirely off his feet. He was thrown violently backwards through the air, sailing over the training ground until he crashed heavily against the arena's sound-dampening metal wall.
The metal groaned under the impact as Agastya slid down to the floor, gasping for air. A sickening wave of dizziness washed over him, the taste of copper flooding his mouth.
Theodora’s eyes flew open, the telepath finally breaking her sleepy facade to stare down into the ring. ‘ He’s hurting. But his mind... it's completely cold. There is no panic in his head.’
Across the room, Kael stood up slowly. He wiped a speck of dust from his shirt, his chest heaving slightly, and began walking methodically toward the downed baker.
Agastya tried to stand. His legs shook violently, the pain from his battered jaw and bruised ribs flaring with every heartbeat. He gritted his bloodstained teeth, forcibly pushing himself upright off the wall, and managed to stagger a few steps forward into the ring.
Kael didn't wait for him to recover. He dropped his stance and sprinted forward, his form blurring with terrifying, un-augmented speed, intending to finish the fight.
Time seemed to slow to a crawl. A massive surge of adrenaline washed over Agastya’s body, forcibly drowning out the pain, the ringing in his ears, and the ache in his bones. The dormant survival instincts of a legendary Imperial assassin completely hijacked his nervous system.
As Kael closed the final gap, he threw a blindingly fast right hook aimed to knock Agastya out cold.
Agastya didn't try to block. He didn't even flinch. He violently twisted his upper body backwards and to the left, bending his spine at an unnatural angle. Kael's knuckles grazed the fabric of his white shirt, missing flesh by a hair.
Anticipating the dodge, Kael immediately pivoted his hips, following up with a devastating left cross.
Agastya was already moving. He pivoted hard on his left heel, shifting his entire body weight with fluid, mechanical perfection. He slipped completely outside of Kael's striking arc, ending up positioned in Kael’s blind spot, just behind the operative's right shoulder.
Dictor gasped, standing up straight. "He slipped the cross. He's behind him."
Using the immense rotational momentum of his pivot, Agastya chambered his right leg. His muscles coiled and snapped like a heavy spring, unleashing a devastating roundhouse kick aimed squarely to decapitate Kael.
But the Vanguard operative's reflexes were monstrous. Just a fraction of a millisecond before Agastya's shin connected with his neck, Kael spun violently on his heel. He brought both of his forearms up in a rigid, cross-arm block.
The collision was explosive. Bone met bone with a thunderous CRACK that echoed throughout the massive underground hall, sending a shockwave of displaced air rippling across the floor.