Flashback
— "WHAT?! THAT'S REALLY HOW YOUR TECHNIQUE WORKS?! THAT'S INSANELY POWERFUL!"
Emilia, sitting on the couch, jolts at Atela's shouting directed at her.
— "You really didn't know how my technique worked?"
The other team members are just as shocked as Atela. Even Noa, usually calm and very hard to impress, isn't unaffected by the explanation.
"Do I even stand a chance against her at this level…? No, absolutely not."
Emilia continues, specifying that she doesn't intend to use this technique before a future confrontation against the second-to-last team.
— "It's already a strategic choice. We can't use all our cards in the first round."
Atela nearly collapses onto her friend's knees, still in shock.
— "OF COURSE NOT! DON'T YOU REALIZE?! OH MAN, WITH A TECHNIQUE LIKE THAT, YOU MUST BE STRONGER THAN ME!"
Behind them, Hajime, wearing a black tank top, calmly drinks a glass of water. He clearly didn't expect this and pretends he didn't hear anything as he walks away.
— "I didn't understand your explanation at all… but it must be amazing to have that kind of power,"
Drago says sincerely to Emilia.
Ranta reflects on the complexity of what he just heard.
— "This is going to be hard to remember…"
"Especially since it's a conceptual ability… and she didn't explain everything so we wouldn't get lost."
Solar also gives his opinion.
— "It's not that hard. You just need to remember the essentials to understand how it works instead of trying to memorize everything."
Nicolas yawns. Clearly, he didn't retain any of the explanation.
"I don't think I could copy a technique of that level… even if its use is less complex than Eric's."
Noa continues thinking about Emilia's power and its potential… if he were ever able to copy it.
— "What about you, Noa… what's your power?"
Noa snaps out of his thoughts at Drago's question.
"Right… I'm the only one who hasn't explained."
But Atela, still lying on Emilia's legs, answers in his place.
— "He was born without any innate technique… but he can copy other people's."
Her revelation causes the same shock as Emilia's.
"Thanks… as if I couldn't say it myself."
Noa sighs and runs a hand through his hair, leaning against the seat.
— "Can you really copy any technique?"
Noa answers calmly, adding nuance.
— "Yes… but not all of them. There are three conditions I need to meet."
Drago frowns.
— "Wait… what do you mean? What if your copying ability is an innate technique?"
Atela jumps in.
— "I wondered the same thing when I found out… but we had other things to deal with, so I didn't push it."
Noa nods.
— "It's normal to be confused. But I guarantee it's not an innate technique. At age five, when a child awakens, all the information about their technique is transmitted to them, even if they don't remember everything."
He points to his forehead.
— "At that age, I only received chaotic energy. No information about any technique."
He looks at his hand.
— "After a lot of training and research… I discovered by accident that I can copy a technique if I complete three steps: understanding, adaptation… and reproduction."
He adds, to avoid overestimation:
— "If even one of those steps is imperfect, I can't create a functional copy. And even when I succeed… it's not a perfect copy."
Kobra frowns, while Solar seems to partially understand.
— "Innate techniques are unique because they're an extension of their user. They evolve based on who the user is."
Noa confirms.
— "Exactly. When I copy a technique, it's incomplete because I don't have all the information or exact details. I have to complete it… and sometimes modify it to fit my style."
Atela sits up slightly.
— "I get it… Can you copy my technique?"
— "No. Not for now."
He confirms her theory.
— "You said all three conditions must be perfectly fulfilled."
She gathers her aura in her hand. Noa watches closely.
— "The common point between my technique and Emilia's… is that they're extremely hard to understand without precise details. And on top of that, they're tied to concepts or ideas of the world, which makes them even harder to master and requires near-perfect energy control."
Atela continues without pausing.
— "The first time we met, Maelle told me your control over chaotic energy was lower than mine."
Kobra interrupts.
— "Where are you going with this?"
— "Noa can't copy our techniques because he can't meet the conditions. He doesn't truly understand them—only on a surface level. There's a barrier between what you understand and what you don't. Without all the details, you can't create a copy that works on the same scale."
Noa is slightly surprised.
"Does she have an encyclopedia about me or what…?"
Emilia seems to have made the connection too.
— "A technique like mine or Atela's requires near-perfect control of both natural and internal energy. In my case… let's say Atela's control is average compared to mine."
She pauses.
— "And your control is lower than hers. So you can't copy these techniques—it's impossible. And even if you tried, their use would be dysfunctional… even if we explained everything."
Noa becomes uncomfortable.
"Okay… this is going way further than I expected… I didn't think they'd understand this much."
He finally says:
— "Actually… there is a way for me to copy any technique just by seeing it once… but I prefer not to use it."
Kobra immediately straightens up.
— "Oh really? What is it?"
But Noa remains silent.
His gaze doesn't move.
— "But that also means…"
Everyone's attention turns to Atela, whose voice suddenly becomes serious, her head lowered.
Noa looks at her.
Without warning, she points at him with two fingers, wearing a sarcastic, superior smile.
— "That I'm stronger than you… so you owe me respect!"
— "Keep dreaming,"
Noa mutters.
Emilia, on her end, genuinely thinks one thing:
Only Atela could break such a tense situation with just a few words.
Back to the present — Nicolas' side
A breeze blows across the completely devastated battlefield, making the silence even more unsettling.
But the calm doesn't last.
Nicolas is sent flying toward the horizon by a kick.
"I got hit?!"
Tomaru wastes no time. He uses attraction to propel himself forward and lands a punch in Nicolas's stomach mid-air, which Nicolas barely withstands.
He tries to counter with his metal staff, but Tomaru stops it instantly, deflects it, and moves behind him.
— "Too slow."
The two fighters exchange blows relentlessly—left, right, kicks, punches—all at superhuman speed. Every attack is blocked and countered. Neither shows any sign of backing down.
Tomaru throws another punch. Nicolas prepares to block, but it's a feint. Tomaru's foot sweeps across the rock and knocks him off balance.
Tomaru follows up, chaining attacks and sending Nicolas crashing into a large boulder.
But he doesn't stop. He charges again, striking repeatedly while Nicolas no longer has time to defend.
"I can't keep up with him…"
Suddenly, Tomaru feels his wrist grabbed.
"Then I'll just change tactics."
Tomaru is violently blasted away by a concentrated air beam fired point-blank from Nicolas's palm.
Nicolas doesn't hesitate. He propels himself off a rock and launches the same attack at full power.
The impact creates a massive explosion of debris.
The dust quickly settles—Tomaru pulled a rock toward himself to shield. He's barely injured.
— "You should stop."
The moment his foot touches the ground, Nicolas charges again. The two resume close combat, trading more blows.
But this time, Tomaru has the endurance advantage. Nicolas is already weakening.
— "You're not the one I'm interested in."
He creates distance. Nicolas realizes too late—the debris from his previous attack is suspended in the air, ready to strike.
— "The one I want to take down… is Noa."
The debris rains down like meteors. Nicolas grabs his fallen staff and cuts through each projectile.
"This isn't good… I'm used to long-range combat. Endurance fights aren't my strength…"
He bursts through the smoke and charges again.
Tomaru takes a deep breath and creates a massive storm sphere, pulling everything toward its center.
Nicolas pushes forward, determined to retaliate.
"I can't keep up this pace much longer…"
As he prepares to strike, Tomaru uses attraction to slam him into a rock charged with his aura. The impact is immediate.
"I need to make him lose his composure… fast!"
He's pulled again—this time directly toward Tomaru, who prepares a decisive blow.
Midway, Nicolas tries a surprise kick, but it fails. Tomaru already anticipated it.
He blocks, grabs Nicolas's leg, slams him into the ground, then hurls him violently into a rock.
With no mercy, Nicolas crashes hard, unable to slow his fall.
Tomaru straightens. Silence returns.
Nicolas, half-conscious, is gravely injured.
Tomaru watches him briefly, then turns and begins walking toward Noa.
— "Your sense of morality is really strange, don't you think?"
Nicolas's weak voice makes him stop. Tomaru turns his head.
Using his last strength, Nicolas slowly gets up.
— "Get to the point."
Nicolas admits he can understand Tomaru's mindset—but not his actions.
— "You seem like someone who despises vengeance… To you, it's useless… and people consumed by it only leave destruction and sorrow behind…"
Tomaru fully turns to face him.
— "That's right. And that's why I won't let someone like Noa become a leader. And besides… I don't know how to explain it, but I felt something in him. It's not ordinary… it's something far more dangerous. There's no way I'll let him stand alongside the generals."
But Nicolas starts to smile—almost laugh.
— "You say you hate people consumed by vengeance… but I think you've become one yourself."
Tomaru's eyes widen. For the first time, his calm cracks.
— "Excuse me?"
Nicolas keeps provoking him as he stands up.
— "You seem honest… sincere… but in reality, you're trying to take revenge… on vengeance itself."
Tomaru clenches his fists. Nicolas doesn't stop.
— "You've locked yourself so deeply in your beliefs that you didn't even realize you became what you hate the most."
The smiling face of his deceased mother resurfaces in Tomaru's mind.
— "Shut up!"
Nicolas picks up his staff, still provoking him.
— "Stop denying it. Face the truth. You're no better than Noa… or the people you judge."
That's it. Tomaru's aura ignites like a blazing fire. His anger explodes.
— "SHUT UP! YOU DON'T KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT ME! YOU DON'T KNOW WHO I AM! YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT I'VE BEEN THROUGH! DON'T YOU DARE JUDGE MY ACTIONS LIKE THAT!"
Nicolas activates his aura as well, ready for one last clash, more determined than ever.
— "THEN PROVE IT! PROVE TO ME YOU'RE DIFFERENT FROM THE OTHERS! YOU WHO THINK YOU'RE SO SPECIAL!"
With a single glance, they rush at each other. Their exchanges become faster, sharper, more violent. Each fights with the intent to finish it.
Blows are exchanged endlessly—blocked, endured, countered like a crashing wave. Time itself seems frozen around them.
— "Tomaru…"
Noa, eyes closed, stands between the two fighters.
Tomaru doesn't even have time to focus on him before he's overwhelmed by a flurry of strikes. He has no choice but to block, being pushed back in seconds.
A precise blow sends him backward. He remains standing, but slowly lowers his head. His eyes change, filled with anger.
Nicolas collapses to the ground with a faint smile, half-conscious.
— "About time… I almost got tired of waiting."
Noa keeps his eyes closed, immersed in extreme concentration.
— "Rest. You've earned it… I'll take over."
To be continued
Next chapter: Unforgettable voices