The moment the cloaked figure lifted his hand, the atmosphere itself seemed to change in a way that could not be seen but could be felt, as though the space around Roan was being quietly peeled apart layer by layer, not by force, not by pressure, but by something far more invasive—something that did not seek to harm the body, but to read it, to search through the unseen fragments of thought, memory, and knowledge as if flipping through pages that were never meant to be exposed.
"…Let's measure it."
The words were soft, almost curious, yet the intent behind them carried a weight that pressed directly against Roan's mind, and in that instant he felt it—an intrusion, subtle yet undeniable, like countless invisible threads attempting to connect to him, probing, searching, calculating.
And then it failed and it was not gradually or not partially but completely.
A sharp distortion flickered in the air, like glass cracking under pressure, before collapsing into nothingness.
"…What?"
For the first time, the figure's voice shifted, not into anger, but into confusion, his hand still raised, his posture unchanged, yet the silence that followed was no longer controlled—it was broken.
Behind him a shadow moved.
"Don't turn away."
The Moon faction leader's voice cut through the stillness like a blade, and before the cloaked figure could react, she was already there, her body moving at full speed, her foot striking the rooftop with enough force to fracture it as she launched herself forward, her blade drawn back and then brought down in a single, precise arc aimed directly at his neck.
This time it connected and hit him.
The impact rang out sharply as steel met flesh, the force of her strike driving into him with enough momentum to send his body flipping forward, his cloak tearing slightly as he crashed onto the adjacent rooftop, the tiles beneath him splintering outward as dust and debris burst into the air.
She didn't hesitate.
The moment her feet landed, her body twisted, pushing forward again before the dust had even settled, her blade cutting horizontally this time, aimed at his midsection, forcing him to roll to the side to avoid it, the edge barely grazing his cloak as it sliced through empty space.
Her next strike came immediately.
A downward slash.
He raised his arm just enough to deflect it, the clash sending a sharp vibration through the air, but before he could fully stabilize—
She attacked again and again and again.
Each movement was faster than the last, her breathing controlled but heavy, her attacks no longer measured but relentless, forcing him back step by step as her blade carved through the space around him, several strikes landing shallow cuts across his cloak and shoulder as he recovered from the first blow, his movements no longer perfectly timed.
For the first time he was reacting.
—
But Roan did not have that advantage.
The instant his focus snapped back, the two figures in front of him moved in perfect synchronization, not with hesitation, not with observation, but with immediate execution, as if a signal had been given that only they could perceive.
The larger one stepped forward first, his right foot planting firmly against the rooftop, the surface beneath it cracking slightly under the pressure as his body leaned forward just enough to transfer weight into motion, his shoulders tightening as both fists rose and collided together with a dull metallic sound—
And then their the transformation began.
The black gloves covering his hands expanded, not growing like fabric but forming, layers of metal sliding over one another as if assembling themselves in real time, thick plates locking into place over his knuckles, his fingers, his wrists, until both hands were encased in massive gauntlets that reflected the faint light in sharp, cold edges.
At the same moment the second figure moved.
His wrists rotated inward, the twin sickles spinning once in opposite directions, the curved blades tracing arcs through the air that left faint streaks behind them, before the chains attached to their handles extended outward, linking together in a smooth, fluid motion, the metal tightening and locking with a sharp click—
Transforming.
A single, elongated shaft formed between them, the blades shifting position as they merged into one and then it becomes an scythe.it was large and heavy but perfectly balanced.
And then they both attacked .
The gauntlet user moved first.
His left foot slid forward slightly, his torso twisting as his right arm pulled back, the metal plates grinding softly against one another before snapping forward in a straight, devastating punch aimed directly at Roan's center mass.
Roan reacted instantly.
His knees bent, his body compressing for a fraction of a second before he pushed upward, his feet leaving the ground just as the punch tore through the space where he had been standing, the force of it slamming into the rooftop and exploding outward, cracks racing across the surface as fragments of stone lifted into the air from the sheer impact.
But he wasn't safe.
Because the second figure had already moved.
The scythe came from below.
Not toward where Roan was but where he would land.
The blade cut upward in a diagonal arc, its edge slicing cleanly through the air with deadly precision, the motion so smooth and perfectly timed that it felt less like an attack and more like a pre-written outcome.
Roan twisted mid-air, his core tightening as he forced his body to rotate sideways, his hand lifting instinctively as telekinesis surged outward, pushing against the air itself to alter his trajectory just enough—
The blade missed his torso.
But not completely it left an thin line opened across his side. It was shallow but immediate.
The burn followed instantly, sharp and invasive, the poison entering his system the moment the blade touched him, spreading like fire through his veins.
And then stopping.
The golden glow in his eyes flickered violently, suppressing the spread, dulling the effect, but not erasing it entirely.
He landed hard enough that.
His feet skidding slightly across the rooftop as he forced himself to stabilize, his breathing tightening for a moment before steadying again—
And then he saw it their weapon properly and clearly.
His eyes locked onto the scythe, tracing the design, the structure, the material and then his thoughts froze.
That… weapon also shouldn't exist yet.
His chest tightened because that weapon appears much later…
—
The gauntlet user moved again.
Faster.
His body leaned forward, his left foot pushing off the ground with enough force to propel him forward in a burst of speed that closed the distance instantly, his arm swinging again—
But this time roan didn't dodge he countered it.
His hand rose, fingers tightening as telekinesis surged outward, wrapping around the man's body like an invisible grip, halting his movement mid-step as the force pressed against him from all directions.
For a moment he stopped but only for a moment.Because the resistance came immediately.
The man's muscles tensed, the gauntlets grinding as he pushed forward against the force, his movement slowing but not stopping, his body forcing its way through the invisible pressure inch by inch.
Roan's expression tightened.
He pushed harder and use more power and more force.
The air distorted slightly as the pressure increased, the rooftop beneath them trembling under the strain of two opposing forces colliding without touching.
And then it broke and the man's body lifted.
and was thrown and was sent off the rooftop in a violent arc.
For a single second their was silence again.
And then comes the pain.
Roan dropped to one knee instantly, his body rejecting the strain, his chest tightening as blood surged upward, spilling from his mouth in a harsh cough, his vision blurring as pressure built behind his eyes and then his blood vessels burst.
Blood streamed down from his eyes and nose, his breathing uneven as his entire body trembled from the backlash.
And as he was recovering from that and it barely worked…an shadow closed in.
Too fast and then the scythe came again but this time from above.
Roan reacted instinctively, his hand slamming downward as ice erupted upward in a thick barrier, the blade striking it with a sharp, echoing crack and breaking through.
The resistance slowed it but didn't stop it.
Roan twisted, forcing himself to the side as the blade cut past him, the wind from its motion brushing against his face.
And then the gauntlet guy returned.the man he had thrown landed back onto the rooftop with crushing force, his feet digging into the surface as he immediately launched forward again, his fist was already in motion.
Roan raised his sword but it was too slow and the impact landed on him.
The force traveled through the blade, through his arms, through his entire body, lifting him off the ground as he was thrown backward again, crashing onto the adjacent rooftop, rolling across the surface before stopping just short of the edge.
He tried to stand but his body didn't respond immediately.his muscles trembled, his breath uneven, his vision flickering and they were already there.
Closing in step by step and perfectly aligned.
The scythe lowered and the gauntlet tightened.no wasted movement and no hesitation and in that moment.
As Roan forced himself to rise again, his body pushed far beyond its limits, his hands trembling as ice formed once more, telekinesis flickering unstable around him.
He understood completely that this wasn't a fight he was losing because he was weaker.
This was a fight where he was already behind in the power level.