Chapter 72: Chapter 72: Venting out. "Careful where you hit, princess—I’m delicate," Rhian muttered with a half-smile, right before Nia’s punch crashed into his side, hard enough to make his bones rattle.
He barely caught his breath when another fist came flying, fast and charged with gold static. Sparks jumped across his chest as it landed, knocking him back a step.
She didn’t let up. Nia closed the distance in a flash, her body glowing faintly with lightning running beneath her skin.
Her speed was sharp, her rhythm relentless. Rhian moved fast enough to keep up, but just barely. She was fighting like someone with something to prove.
He gritted his teeth and slammed his fist toward her ribs. She blocked, but her stance shook. His strength still outclassed hers.
That part was obvious. Even enhanced, she couldn’t overpower him. But she made up for it with control, pressure, and experience.
She ducked under a wild swing and landed a rising knee into his gut, sparking again as it struck. Rhian stumbled back with a grunt, but caught himself. He raised his hand.
Nia paused as her shadow suddenly twitched, rising unnaturally beneath her feet.
Her eyes narrowed. "Really?"
"Sorry," he muttered. "Need the help."
Her shadow snapped upward, just enough to drag at her ankle and break her movement.
Rhian shot forward, twisting in low. His punch hit her across the shoulder, spinning her halfway around.
But Nia recovered fast. She flipped back, landing hard, skidding against the floor. Lightning danced across her skin again.
"Not bad," she muttered, brushing static from her arm.
Rhian smirked. He was breathing harder than he expected. His ribs ached where she’d landed those enhanced hits. Still, his body wasn’t even close to breaking down. He had more.
Without warning, he swiped his palm through the air. For an instant, an exact copy of himself shimmered behind Nia, raised its hand—and vanished before it could land a blow.
Nia jerked on instinct and turned too far.
Rhian closed the gap while her footing shifted and tackled her to the ground. She hit the mat with a thud, rolling fast and breaking away.
She was already back on her feet, lightning pulsing again—but this time she was breathing heavier too.
"You’re pulling tricks now?" she spat.
"Only cheap ones," he replied, flexing his fingers.
The illusion technique still felt weird. It didn’t last long, just long enough to make someone flinch or bait a move. But used right, it worked.
She charged again. This time, he met her head-on. Fist to fist, elbow to elbow. Every impact cracked the air.
He slid past her, twisting, spinning, planting a foot and landing a heavy punch against her ribs. She staggered, but electricity burst in retaliation, jolting him back.
He hit the wall and grimaced.
The fight didn’t stop.
She came again. He blocked with his arm, let her lightning burst into his skin, then reached for her shadow—only to find it already moving.
She had adapted.
He smiled despite himself.
Their fight spiraled. Rhian faked a punch, then used another illusion—this one a clone standing behind her.
She didn’t fall for it. Her body twisted the right way. She caught his arm, pulled him in, and cracked her forehead into his face.
Stars danced across his vision.
𝙛𝓻𝒆𝒆𝒘𝙚𝓫𝙣𝙤𝒗𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢 "Damn," he muttered, holding his nose.
"Quit playing," she said, eyes sparking bright gold again.
They crashed into each other again. Neither willing to back down. Rhian’s shadow twitched, his illusions blinked in and out, and Nia’s fists sparked bright enough to burn the air.
By the end, both of them stood across the mat, panting, shoulders rising and falling. Sweat slicked their skin. Rhian’s shirt was half torn. Nia’s lightning had faded, her body trembling slightly.
Rhian stepped forward.
Nia did too.
Their eyes met, both of them nodded once, quiet and wordless respect.
Nia looked at Rhian’s eyes. "Want to talk about it?"
"No."
He didn’t give her time to ask what he meant. Because he already knew she would.
This fight was supposed to be for her—to let something out, to vent everything she’d kept buried—but somewhere along the way, it had shifted. Rhian had vented too.
It was in the way he pressed forward harder than he needed to, in the way he didn’t hold back.
She’d had to use her full physical enhancement—channeling lightning through her limbs to boost her strength, speed, and reaction time—just to keep up.
At the start, she’d been evenly matched, maybe even ahead, but the longer it went on, the more obvious it became.
Before the portal trial, she’d been stronger.
She was a rank higher and had always held back, which was why she rarely showed her affinity in public. But now, they were technically the same rank.
And somehow, he was already stronger. Even worse, he was adapting fast—reading her rhythm, catching her patterns.
What really frustrated her was that he wasn’t even just using his body. His illusions were tricky.
They only lasted five seconds, but in close-range fights like this, five seconds was more than enough to feint, fake, or interrupt her momentum.
And the shadow control—being able to pull at her footing or drag her movement by latching onto her shadow—it was downright annoying.
She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. He was still quiet and still very much unreadable.
She didn’t know what kind of pain he carried. He never said.
But from the way he acted after hearing her story, she could tell he wasn’t good with emotions. Neither of them were.
He hadn’t tried to comfort her or offer some perfect words. He just stood there, took it in, and asked her to hit him.
And honestly, that was fine. She preferred it that way. Fighting was easier than talking.
Even if he never said anything, she saw it in him—how his punches tightened after she spoke, how his focus sharpened. He was venting some of his frustration as well.
And whatever it was, it drove him the same way her own guilt did.
Neither of them wanted to be weak again. Not just for themselves, but for the people they couldn’t protect.