For a brief moment—
No one moved.
Not Rauk.Not Lira.Not even the Dire Fang.
All eyes were on Takemi.
On the thing in his hand.
A sword that… wasn't there.
The faint outline of a blade flickered and vanished with the slightest shift of his wrist, like it only existed when he moved it a certain way.
Takemi stared at it too.
"…Yeah," he muttered under his breath, "this is new."
The Dire Fang growled low.
This time, it didn't rush.
It circled.
Slow.
Careful.
Its glowing eyes locked onto Takemi—no longer confused, but wary.
It had felt that hit.
And it remembered.
Takemi adjusted his grip on the handle.
It felt… natural.
Too natural.
Like his hand already knew how to hold it.
But everything else?
Didn't.
He shifted his stance.
Awkward.
Too stiff.
"…Right," he exhaled, "I've never actually used a sword before."
Behind him, Lira pushed herself up slightly.
"You blocked it…"
Takemi didn't take his eyes off the Dire Fang.
"Don't celebrate yet."
Because he could already feel it.
The difference.
Throwing—
That was instinct.
Precision.
Control.
But this?
Timing.
Distance.
Movement.
One wrong step and he was dead.
The Dire Fang lunged again.
Faster than before.
It had learned.
Takemi stepped in—
Too late.
Claws slammed into the ground just inches from him as he barely twisted his body aside.
Dirt exploded upward.
He swung—
Too wide.
The blade flickered out halfway through the motion.
Nothing connected.
"—Tch!"
The beast turned instantly, snapping its jaws toward him.
Takemi raised the handle again—
CLANG.
This time the impact nearly broke his stance.
The invisible blade formed just in time, catching the Dire Fang's fangs—but the force pushed him back hard, his boots carving into the dirt.
"—Ghh!"
His arms shook.
"…Heavy…"
Way heavier than throwing.
The Dire Fang pulled back, then struck again.
Takemi tried to swing—
Missed.
Too slow.
Claws grazed his side.
RIP.
Pain flared.
Takemi stumbled, barely catching himself before falling.
"…Damn it!"
"Takemi, fall back!" the instructor shouted.
But Takemi didn't move.
He couldn't.
If he stepped back now—
The Dire Fang would just break past him again.
Straight to Lira.
To the others.
"…No," he muttered.
The beast advanced again.
Slow.
Confident.
It had figured it out.
Takemi wasn't skilled.
Just dangerous if ignored.
Rauk rushed in from the side.
"Don't fight it alone!"
He slashed again at the Dire Fang's flank.
This time the blade cut slightly deeper than before—but still not enough.
The beast roared and shoved him back again.
Rauk skidded across the ground.
"…Still too tough!"
Lira raised her hand, forming another spell.
But her timing was off.
Too slow.
The Dire Fang ignored everyone else.
It focused on Takemi.
The real threat.
Takemi steadied his breathing.
His grip tightened.
"…Think."
The vision.
The man.
What is a blade that never leaves your hand?
Takemi stepped slightly to the side.
The Dire Fang mirrored him.
Watching.
Waiting.
What strikes without distance… yet reaches beyond it?
Takemi raised the handle again.
Slowly.
Not rushing.
"…It's not the blade…"
The Dire Fang lunged.
Takemi didn't panic this time.
He stepped in—
And swung.
Clean.
Focused.
The blade appeared—
Longer this time.
More stable.
SLASH.
It cut across the Dire Fang's chest.
Not deep—
But deeper than before.
The beast recoiled.
Snarling.
Takemi exhaled sharply.
"…It's the motion."
The swing itself.
That was the blade.
Not the weapon.
The Dire Fang roared and charged again.
This time faster.
More aggressive.
Takemi stepped back—
Then suddenly forward.
He grabbed a stone mid-motion—
And threw.
THWACK!
It hit the Dire Fang's face, disrupting its charge for just a split second—
And that was enough.
Takemi closed the distance.
Swung.
SLASH.
The invisible blade carved across its shoulder.
This time—
It drew real blood.
The Dire Fang howled.
Takemi staggered back, breathing hard.
"…Okay…"
He glanced at his hand.
At the handle.
"…I get it now."
Throw—
Disrupt.
Swing—
Finish.
Not one or the other.
Both.
The Dire Fang lowered its body again.
Blood dripped from its shoulder.
But it wasn't slowing down.
If anything—
It looked angrier.
More focused.
More dangerous.
"…Yeah," Takemi muttered.
"Of course it's not that easy."
The beast charged again.
Faster than before.
Desperate.
Takemi braced himself.
He threw—
Missed.
The Dire Fang didn't flinch.
Too fast.
Too close.
Takemi raised the blade—
Too late.
BOOM.
The impact sent him flying.
He hit the ground hard, air knocked out of his lungs.
The handle nearly slipped from his grip.
"…Ghh—!"
His vision blurred.
The Dire Fang stood over him now.
Breathing heavy.
Eyes locked on him.
No hesitation this time.
It raised its claw—
For the final strike.
Takemi forced himself up.
Just enough.
Barely.
"…Not… yet…"
His arm trembled.
His grip tightened.
The handle felt heavier now.
Like it was testing him.
Like it was asking—
Can you actually use me?
The Dire Fang struck.
Takemi swung.
CLANG.
The invisible blade formed again—
Just in time.
But the force—
Too much.
His stance broke.
His knees hit the ground.
"…Damn it…!"
He was losing.
Even with this weapon—
He was still losing.
Behind him—
He could hear Lira.
Rauk.
The others.
But they couldn't reach him in time.
The Dire Fang pulled back—
Preparing to end it.
Takemi's breathing slowed.
Just for a moment.
His grip steadied.
"…One more."
Not perfect.
Not clean.
Just—
One more.