(The Last Threshold)
"Go."
Mireya stared at Pryan like he had finally lost his mind.
"You're bleeding internally, your mana is collapsing, and that lunatic keeps folding space around your reactions," she snapped. "And somehow your conclusion is that I should leave you alone down here?"
Pryan wiped blood from the corner of his mouth with the back of his wrist.
"I'm saying Professor Kaien needs to know what this place really is before they erase evidence."
Another strike came instantly.
Pryan barely intercepted in time.
Steel exploded against steel hard enough for sparks to burst through the tunnel chamber.
The hooded man's attacks had changed again.
No.
Refined again.
Every exchange now felt like Pryan was moving through water half a second behind reality.
The hooded figure stepped back smoothly.
Then for the first time since the fight began—
Mana expanded openly from his body.
Not explosive.
Structured.
The tunnel reacted immediately.
The mana lamps lining the underground chamber flickered out of sequence. Blue light dimmed, then reignited in uneven rhythm. Old transport rails vibrated softly beneath the stone floor.
Mireya's expression hardened.
"…That doesn't look healthy."
The hooded man raised one hand.
"Synchronization Art," he said calmly.
The air tightened.
"Third Sequence."
The tunnel pulsed.
"Pulse Misalignment."
Pryan felt it instantly.
His heartbeat skipped.
Not physically.
Rhythmically.
His mana circulation suddenly felt out of place inside his own body, like the timing between thought and movement had shifted slightly apart.
The hooded man moved.
Pryan reacted immediately—
Too late.
Again.
The strike slammed into Ashveil and sent him skidding backward across the cracked stone floor.
Pain tore through his ribs.
Mireya attacked from the side immediately.
Her blade curved in a sharp rotational arc.
Not academy form.
Not refined noble fencing.
Adaptive.
Aggressive.
"Halvane Blade Art," she snapped.
Mana spiraled sharply around her sword.
"Crescent Reversal."
The strike twisted violently through the chamber, curving unnaturally around the hooded man's guard angle.
For the first time—
Blood sprayed across the stone floor.
The hooded man stepped back sharply, fresh blood running down his side beneath the torn fabric.
Silence hit the chamber for half a breath.
Mireya blinked.
"…Oh."
Pryan looked genuinely surprised too.
"You've never landed that before, have you?"
"No," Mireya admitted honestly. "That was mostly emotional."
The hooded man looked down at the wound.
Then slowly back at her.
"You abandoned academy structure."
Mireya pointed her sword toward him.
"I abandoned listening to idiots about ten minutes ago."
For the first time—
The hooded man's expression actually shifted.
Not anger.
Interest.
Then the chamber exploded.
The hooded man vanished forward.
Synchronization Art distorted the tunnel rhythm again as his blade appeared directly beside Mireya's neck.
Pryan moved before thinking.
"Basic Wind Art: Vector Shift."
Mana burst beneath his footing.
The sudden directional acceleration tore cracks through the stone as Pryan forced himself sideways into the attack line.
Ashveil collided with the hooded man's blade.
The impact detonated through the chamber.
Stone pillars fractured.
Mana lamps burst overhead.
Pryan's internal injuries screamed violently.
But he didn't stop.
Dagger low.
Knife hidden.
Sword high.
Three-layer engagement.
The hooded man intercepted all three exchanges almost instantly—
Then his eyes narrowed.
Pryan's transitions were smoother now.
Not stable.
But evolving.
Still evolving.
"How," the hooded man said quietly, almost to himself, "are you still adapting?"
Pryan's breathing shook unevenly.
"Bad childhood."
Mireya stared at him mid-fight.
"That's the joke you choose right now?"
"It was available."
The hooded man attacked again.
Synchronization Art distorted the chamber rhythm repeatedly now, forcing movement timing into unstable intervals. Every delayed pulse disrupted natural reactions by fractions of seconds.
Fractions that became deadly.
Pryan blocked one strike.
Second.
Third.
Then the hooded man shifted angles unnaturally.
Not faster.
Earlier.
The strike pierced through Pryan's side.
Blood hit the floor.
Mireya's face changed immediately.
"Pryan!"
Pryan forced himself backward hard enough to create space.
The hooded man advanced calmly.
"You are not synchronized with yourself," he said. "Your mana flow destabilizes every time you evolve your combat pattern."
Pryan adjusted his grip on Ashveil.
Blood dripped steadily from his hand now.
"Probably because I wasn't built for this."
"No," the hooded man replied quietly.
His eyes sharpened.
"You were never supposed to survive this long."
The chamber shook.
Several infiltrators along the outer rail lines immediately retreated further back.
Not from the fight.
From Pryan.
Because his mana had started changing again.
Unstable.
Heavy.
Like pressure building beneath cracked stone.
Mireya felt it immediately.
So did the hooded man.
Pryan moved first this time.
Mana surged violently into Ashveil.
Not smooth.
Overloaded.
"Ashveil First Form."
The tunnel floor cracked beneath his step.
"Split Current."
The strike erupted outward in crossing arcs of compressed force.
Stone exploded apart.
The underground rails split open beneath the pressure wave as the attack carved through the chamber.
The hooded man twisted sideways narrowly, but the attack still tore through his sleeve and slammed into the far tunnel wall hard enough to collapse an entire support section.
The chamber trembled violently.
Dust rained from above.
Mireya stared openly now.
"…That was First Form?"
Pryan coughed blood onto the floor.
"…Still working on the others."
"That is deeply concerning."
The hooded man looked at the destroyed tunnel wall silently.
Then back at Pryan.
For the first time—
Actual caution entered his posture.
"You are becoming catastrophic."
Pryan laughed weakly once.
"That's rude."
Then the hooded man disappeared again.
This time the chamber itself distorted around him.
Synchronization Art intensified.
"Seventh Sequence."
The air compressed sharply.
"Internal Delay."
Pryan's body froze.
Not completely.
Just enough.
Mana circulation staggered violently through his core.
His left arm stopped responding properly.
Then his right leg delayed half a second behind movement intent.
The next strike landed cleanly.
Pain detonated through Pryan's chest.
The world tilted violently sideways.
Mireya intercepted again immediately—
But the difference in pressure now was overwhelming.
The hooded man's combat rhythm had accelerated beyond what either of them could maintain.
Pryan forced himself upright again anyway.
Vision blurring.
Breathing failing.
Body collapsing.
Still standing.
Mireya grabbed his shoulder hard.
"We have to move!"
"No."
"You can barely stand!"
"I know."
"Then stop acting calm about it!"
Pryan looked toward her finally.
Actually looked.
"You need to leave now."
Her expression twisted immediately.
"No."
"Mireya."
"No."
The chamber shook again as distant tunnel sections collapsed somewhere deeper underground.
Pryan steadied Ashveil weakly.
"If this place survives, they erase evidence. If it collapses completely, nobody learns how deep this operation went."
"You think I care about tunnels right now?"
"I think Professor Kaien needs to know before they move everything."
Mireya hated that he was making sense.
That was the worst part.
The hooded man advanced again slowly.
Patiently.
Like the outcome had already been decided.
Pryan's voice lowered.
"If you stay, we both die."
Mireya's hands tightened around her sword.
For a second she looked furious enough to strike him herself.
Then finally—
She stepped backward.
One step.
Only one.
"If you die while I'm gone," she said through clenched teeth, "I swear I'll kill you myself."
Pryan gave the faintest exhausted breath that almost resembled a laugh.
"…That sounds difficult."
"Shut up."
Then she turned and ran deeper through the tunnel branches.
The hooded man did not follow her.
His eyes remained fixed entirely on Pryan.
"Interesting choice," he said calmly.
Pryan adjusted Ashveil again.
His arms barely responded now.
"Not really."
The chamber fell silent.
Then the real fight began.
The hooded man vanished.
Pryan barely survived the next exchange.
Synchronization Arts distorted every movement rhythm inside the chamber. Mana lamps burst overhead one after another as pressure waves tore through the underground nexus.
Pryan fought anyway.
Sword.
Dagger.
Knife.
Wind bursts.
Flame Threads erupting from impossible angles.
The tunnel collapsed around them piece by piece.
"Ashveil Second Form—"
Pryan drove the blade downward with everything left inside him.
"Severing Flow."
The strike landed.
Not against flesh.
Against the chamber itself.
The underground nexus split apart.
A black fracture carved through the stone floor as mana circulation lines ruptured violently beneath the tunnel network.
The hooded man was forced backward for the first time in the entire battle.
Real damage.
Real danger.
And still—
Not enough.
Pryan's knees hit the ground.
His body finally began failing completely.
Vision fading.
Breathing breaking apart.
The same feeling returned.
That battlefield.
That ruined future.
Isolation.
Failure.
Death.
Again.
Again.
Again.
The hooded man stepped forward through collapsing dust and broken mana light.
"You cannot survive this."
Pryan's fingers tightened weakly around Ashveil.
No.
He couldn't.
Not like this.
Not weak.
Not incomplete.
Somewhere deep inside him—
Imagine stirred.
Not gently.
Hungrily.
Pryan's thoughts blurred.
A single instinct remained.
I cannot lose here.
Something answered.
The tunnel suddenly went silent.
Not quiet.
Silent.
Mana lamps dimmed all at once.
Shadows deepened unnaturally across the chamber floor.
The hooded man stopped walking.
For the first time since this battle began—
He stepped backward.
Pryan slowly rose again.
Ashveil lifted weakly into the dark.
But the mana gathering around him no longer moved like his.