Kenzo and Ophelia continued to force Sir James back, advancing step by step without giving him the slightest room to breathe. Their pressure was constant, methodical, almost mechanical, the direct result of everything they had built throughout the fight and of the synchronization that had gradually formed between them. Sir James kept retreating, his footing becoming less stable with every exchange, and for a brief moment Kenzo was certain they were finally reaching the end. Yet something felt wrong, a vague, instinctive warning that settled over him before he could even put it into words.
Sir James was changing.
It did not happen all at once. His focused, hardened gaze gradually emptied of reason. His movements lost their usual precision and became erratic, sometimes too wide, sometimes almost absurd, as though he were striking without truly seeing what stood in front of him. He stopped responding to their attacks in any coherent way, breaking the rhythm of the battle entirely, and that sudden chaos made every attempt at anticipation dangerous. Kenzo understood too late.
Sir James was not weakening.
He was losing himself.
He was going mad.
Far from making him harmless, the madness made him unpredictable. Kenzo and Ophelia had built their advantage on reading him, recognizing patterns, controlling rhythm, and exploiting repetition. Now they were facing something that obeyed none of those rules. The openings they expected never came. The reactions they anticipated simply did not happen. Everything they had worked to establish threatened to collapse.
What the hell is he doing…? Kenzo thought, breathing heavily as Sir James began laughing in broken bursts before suddenly falling silent, as though listening to a voice no one else could hear. His eyes darted in every direction without ever settling on anything, yet even in that state he continued to defend himself, striking with disordered but terrifying efficiency.
He managed to hit Kenzo.
Then Ophelia.
The pain was immediate, brutal, almost impossible to understand.
This hurts like hell…
The sensation invaded Kenzo again. It was not ordinary physical pain, not a fracture or a burn. It felt as though something had reached directly into his soul, a deep and disorienting intrusion he could not ignore. Every time it happened, his body reacted violently. Blood spilled from his mouth, then his nose, then his ears, as though his body were desperately trying to expel something it could not comprehend.
Ophelia suffered the same effect, yet in a terrifyingly different way. She too coughed up blood, her face already stained red, her body covered in wounds, but where the pain seemed to tear Kenzo apart from within, it fed something inside her. Whether consciously or not, she was turning it into fuel. Every injury reignited the fire within her, temporarily strengthening her movements and accelerating her attacks even as her body approached its breaking point. But the rhythm was unstable and dangerous, and Kenzo could see it clearly.
She was beginning to falter too.
Little by little, the balance shifted.
Sir James no longer looked like the one approaching defeat.
They did.
Then Sir James began to scream, his distorted voice echoing throughout the entire chamber, filled with equal parts rage and despair.
— « You promised I would become stronger than any Transfigured… »
He attacked again without restraint or logic, every movement growing more violent.
— « Why won't you answer me anymore…? »
Every word seemed to drive him deeper into madness. The more he spoke, the emptier his gaze became, the less coherent his movements grew, and yet paradoxically, that only made him more dangerous. There was no longer any pattern to read, no rhythm to anticipate, only a chaotic storm of attacks.
Then he landed a brutal blow against Kenzo's jaw.
The impact was sharp and violent. Kenzo felt something crack as his vision lurched. Almost at the same moment, Sir James drove a vicious kick into Ophelia's chest and sent her flying several meters across the chamber. Once again, both of them coughed up blood, but this time Kenzo's condition was worse than anything he had endured so far. Blood even began leaking from his eyes, completely blurring his vision while his body refused to obey him.
He dropped to his knees.
And his position could not have been worse.
Kenzo was kneeling directly beside Sir James, while Ophelia had been thrown farther away, her body barely responding, her muscles trembling violently. Sir James slowly straightened and raised one arm without hesitation.
He was going to finish him.
Then a sharp crack split the air.
A whip.
The sound echoed throughout the chamber like thunder, shattering the tension in an instant. At the far end of the room stood a figure, unsteady and almost unreal.
Naty.
She was covered in blood, barely able to remain on her feet, her entire body trembling with every breath. Yet she had raised her arm and sent her blood-coated whip forward, activating her power in one final desperate effort.
The whip struck Sir James across the face.
The impact hit with such force that his body lurched sideways, his scream collapsing into a strangled grunt.
Ophelia, bloodied and still barely able to move, did not hesitate for even a second. Despite the pain and exhaustion, she threw both daggers.
The first pierced Sir James through the heart.
The second cut across his throat.
Blood erupted in a dark spray as Sir James staggered, his body swaying dangerously.
Come on… one last strike…
Kenzo forced himself to stand. Every muscle screamed in protest, and every heartbeat sent another wave of pain through his body. His vision remained blurred and stained red, but he clenched his teeth and gripped his strange spear with both hands.
He held it like a sword, taking advantage of the broad blade.
Then he swung.
One clean, decisive strike.
Sir James's head was severed from his body and sent through the air before landing heavily on the webbed floor.
Silence fell over the chamber.
Absolute.
Heavy.
Almost unreal.
The threat was gone.
The three teenagers collapsed almost at the same time, their bodies finally giving out after being pushed far beyond their limits.
Around them, nothing moved.