Ranna reached him before thought could catch up.
Her fist cut through the air without a word of warning. The first punch was a hammer made of silence. Fast, clean, and so heavy the air snapped as it passed.
Leo dodged.
Barely.
The second came before his heel hit the ground. His body shifted, body tensed, and again he slipped past the strike by inches. A third, a fourth, then a rainstorm of fists, each one faster, denser, more precise than the last.
His breath shortened.
Each missed punch pressed the space around him like a tidal force. His clothing clapped wildly with each dodge. The pressure bruised without landing.
He ducked low, spun out wide, heart thudding in sync with the rhythm of her attack.
Suppression.
He gritted his teeth, eyes narrowing.
Why is she punching?
Ranna wasn't a brawler. She was a swordswoman, a duelist, a tactician.
One punch came so close it cut the air across his cheek like a whipcrack. Heat bloomed on his skin.
He glanced at her eyes.
She was smiling. Enjoying the thrill. Watching. Like a teacher observing a student start to ask the right question.
Another punch sailed past his ribs.
Leo twisted sideways, breath sharp in his throat.
And then the world shifted without sound or flash. Another presence.
His body screamed instinct before his mind caught up. He turned.
Too late.
Slash!
A searing line of white-hot pressure zipped across his side. Just mist, but it bit deep. The force bent his posture mid-dodge, spun him slightly.
Amanda stood behind him now, swords humming with kinetic tension. Her eyes brimming like Ranna. Focus. Pure fire burned in her gaze.
"You thought this was one-on-one?" Ranna's voice cut across the distance. Light, teasing, edged like a blade held gently to the throat.
Leo's breath hitched.
And then...
Boom!
The battlefield erupted with slashes, punches, and tornado-lances.
Each strike came from a different angle, a different rhythm, a different philosophy of violence. He dodged some. He blocked one. Most landed.
There was no time for thought. Only instinct, blood heat, and reaction.
His shoulder snapped back from Amanda's blade. His side folded under Ranna's boot. A spinning lance of air singed the edges of his aura and slammed into his leg, throwing him off-balance.
It was a massacre.
A one-sided symphony of strength.
And through the blur of movement, the hiss of torn mist and the roar of clashing power, Amanda saw him.
She froze for a heartbeat. Blades still mid-swing.
Because Leo was smiling.
His face twisted with each burning pain. Just to return to the familiar curve of his battle-born smile.
He exhaled, stumbling back as another lance exploded near his feet. Wind shrieked. His limbs ached. His aura flickered.
And still, he smiled.
If it weren't for Paradise, he thought, wiping bloodless sweat from his brow, I'd be broken right now.
Ribs shattered. Tendons snapped. Neck bent the wrong way.
But none of that stuck.
Nothing compared to that.
He looked at Amanda, then Ranna, then even Cris, who stood in the distance, summoning another spell with wild, grinning precision.
So this...
This is what it means to be an adventurer.
To fight like it matters.
To test truths with challenges.
And then, suddenly, everything paused without signal or warning.
Just a feeling in the bones. A shift in the breath of the world.
The mist, ever-present, ever-drifting, stopped. Then began to move, not away, but toward him.
Every strand, every ribbon, every tendril of memory-born fog swirled inward, drawn to Leo like gravity had reversed itself.
The ground beneath their feet, or whatever passed for ground in the Paradise, trembled.
A sound like something colossal being clearing its throat rumbled through the space.
The golden glyph-timer above, once steady, pulsing like a heartbeat, glitched.
00:43:11
00:43:1...
00:...
The air pulsed.
"...What the hell is that?" Cris muttered, shield half-raised, voice suddenly lacking its usual snark.
Amanda didn't speak. Ranna took one slow step back.
Leo stood in the center, eyes closed, arms slightly raised.
"Thank you," he said quietly.
To all of them.
His voice was steady now, no longer ragged from dodging or strained from thinking.
It echoed. Everywhere. Nowhere.
"I think... it's finally time to show you my truth."
Amanda's eyes widened. Cris' hands dropped slightly, focus fractured. Even Ranna, sharp, calculating Ranna, went still.
Inside Leo, something broke open.
Or maybe it had always been open.
The mist wrapped tighter, converging. Woven with memory and power.
Light didn't glow but bent and wavered.
The very concept of space shook, vibrating like a chord struck at the center of the Paradise.
Leo didn't move.
And around him, everything stood still.
Waiting, bracing.