"I can't let myself get eliminated, can I?"
The boy blinked.
There was a beat of silence—just long enough for it to settle in.
Then his eyes narrowed, not with anger, but exasperation. "...You're joking."
Lucavion didn't deny it. He smiled. The kind that didn't reach the eyes, the kind that carried too many layers to be understood all at once.
"Took you long enough to notice."
That did it.
The boy moved.
Anger or pride—perhaps both—spurred him into motion. His mana surged, a clean pulse of wind-infused strength gathering around his legs as he dashed forward, kicking up a swirl of dust behind him.
Not bad. Fast again. His footwork was refined, pressure low and blade poised for a horizontal feint.
But too eager.
Lucavion stepped into the swing—not away from it—and in that instant, the boy's momentum turned against him.
First move.
CLANG.
