An abandoned field.
A man and a woman stood facing each other, about ten meters apart.
"Are you sure you don't want to change your clothes?" Diana asked.
In her left hand was the God-Killer shield. In her right, the Sword of Ares.
The Lasso of Truth rested at her waist. The Bracelets of Submission circled her wrists. The Star-Spangled Tiara sat on her head.
She was fully armed, clad in her shoulderless battle skirt.
"No. I don't have special combat gear," Morin said calmly. "Or rather, this is my combat gear."
He was still wearing his suit.
It had been custom-made at the Continental Hotel in the assassin world.
The joints were modified for large movements and combat. The fabric was bulletproof.
The same kind of suit John Wick wore. Give My Dog Its Life Back.
Morin had also added cleaning, protection, and other magical spells to it.
A genuine magical item.
"You should at least have a weapon," Diana said, lightly shaking the sword and shield. "Otherwise this feels unfair."
"Alright. If you insist."
Morin retrieved the long-forgotten Sword of Eden and the Dimensional Multi-Tool from his system space.
The tool reshaped itself into a shield.
"Is this enough?"
"Come on." Diana bowed slightly, her body coiling with tension. "Let's begin."
"Ladies first." Morin gestured invitingly.
"Hah!"
Diana's feet sank into the ground as she launched forward.
Her sword came down in a straight, decisive arc.
Clang!
The Sword of Eden intercepted the Sword of Ares with pinpoint accuracy.
The sound rang out sharply.
Diana froze midair, as if suspended.
Morin glanced at the blade in his hand.
No damage.
Good.
The material really is absurd.
"Not bad," Diana said, retreating two steps. "I was worried you wouldn't be able to handle it."
"Next, five-tenths of my strength."
"Come on," Morin replied.
Pressure built in his chest.
Along with a long-lost excitement.
Maybe today, I'll finally meet someone who can push me in a purely physical fight.
Blades clashed.
Shields collided.
Fists and feet met head-on.
At first, both held back.
Neither wanted to seriously injure the other.
But once they realized the other still had plenty left, the restraint faded.
Five-tenths.
Six.
Seven.
Then-
Ten.
Their power collided violently, shockwaves flipping the sandy soil again and again.
After another clash, Diana stopped advancing.
She panted lightly, disbelief clear in her eyes.
"Are you really a mage?"
A mage with this kind of physical power?
"What's wrong with being a mage?" Morin said, calmly layering enhancement spells over himself-Strength, Endurance, Speed.
"The strongest mages I've met don't rely on spells alone. One casts a light spell and charges in with a sword. The other mostly uses his fists, except when opening doors."
...
I can't beat her.
Not with pure physical strength.
That much was clear.
Morin felt the shock settle in.
Diana's build was slender, but her strength was monstrous.
Worthy of fighting Superman head-on.
The films had clearly weakened her.
Without enhancement spells, Morin couldn't keep up at all.
"I see." Diana nodded. "Want to go again?"
"Yes." Morin grinned.
He cast Strength ten more times.
How could a man admit he wasn't good enough?
The second round began.
"Hah... hah... haha..." Diana laughed, dropping to the ground without caring about appearances. Sweat soaked her body as she gasped for air. "This is the most satisfying fight I've had in years."
"Haha... same." Morin sat as well, pulling his suit open.
His body felt hollow.
My mana's empty.
The familiar weakness of total depletion washed over him.
He'd stacked too many spells.
His regeneration couldn't keep up.
But the result-
He won.
Barely.
Morin knew Diana still had lethal moves she hadn't used.
But if they compared what he hadn't used, the list was much longer.
Telepathy.
Electromagnetism.
Even the God-Slayer mecha.
Without moral limits, the outcome would've been clear.
But that wasn't the point.
This kind of fight-
This kind of sparring-
This was what Morin wanted.
"...Do you still have strength left?" Diana suddenly asked.
"That depends," Morin said cautiously. "What are you planning?"
"If not..."
Diana licked her lips.
She untied the Lasso of Truth, stood, and walked over.
Then began tying Morin up.
Morin: "!!!"
I didn't expect you to be into this.
At least be gentle.
No. Focus. I'm not that kind of person.
"Do you know what you're doing?" Morin asked, not resisting.
"I do." Diana smiled apologetically. "But I need this to believe you. If everything you said is true, I'll compensate you."
"Alright." Morin sighed. "What kind of compensation?"
"That depends on the result."
"If I didn't lie... I'll owe you a favor."
"Anything?"
"As long as it doesn't violate my principles."
"What about a date with me?"
"...That's acceptable."
"Then what are you waiting for?"
...
"Where did you come from?"
"Is the crisis you mentioned real?"
"What is your goal?"
The first two answers were the same as before.
The third was different.
Morin added something personal.
"To find you and team up-and-"
The Lasso of Truth glowed.
It tightened.
"You're hiding something." Diana's relaxed expression hardened instantly.
Her body tensed. The Sword of Ares and the lasso tightened in her grip.
"Alright, alright." Morin raised his hands. "You think I came a little early."
He paused.
"The truth is, I've always wanted to find someone like me. I saw you... and I fell for you. So I came to find you. And ask you out."
The Lasso of Truth remained still.
No glow.
No tightening.
Morin exhaled quietly.
The lasso probed the mind.
His telepathy was stronger.
Under self-hypnosis, he slipped past it.
A gamble.
One he won.
"...True." Diana's face flushed slightly as she loosened the lasso. "I'm sorry."
"Wait."
Morin moved.
He snatched the Lasso of Truth and looped it around her instead, pulling her into his arms.
"What are you doing?" Diana asked, startled.
"To be fair," Morin said softly, their breaths mingling, eyes locked, "I want to ask you questions too."
"...Alright."
"Three."
"First."
"Will you go on a date with me?"
"I'll honor my promise."
"And if you hadn't promised?"
"...Is that the second question?"
"Yes."
Diana didn't answer immediately.
Without telepathy, she had to listen to her heart.
Sunlit afternoon.
His face half-lit, half-shadowed.
Holy calm mixed with quiet danger.
The way he looked at the mural-like someone watching history pass while remaining unchanged.
The polite nobleman at the café.
The surprise, without anger, when he underpaid.
The endless strength beneath a tailored suit.
Wildness and restraint, coexisting.
A man whose strength, appearance, and lifespan could match hers.
The best choice.
"Yes." Diana smiled.
Morin swallowed.
This feeling had come suddenly.
Too suddenly.
Before, he'd only been chasing beauty.
But in the museum-feeling time's weight-
And then seeing her-
Something anchored him.
Desire was still there.
He wasn't pretending otherwise.
But this time, there was more.
He wanted an anchor.
Someone who wouldn't disappear.
Someone constant.
For the first time, Morin wasn't casual.
He leaned in and kissed her.
Their lips met.
Lingering.
Unhurried.
They separated only after a long moment.
"How was it?" Morin asked.
"The last question?"
"The last one."
"It was very good."
No hesitation.
None was needed.
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