The vines rustled under Rei’s boots as he steadied his breathing, sweat already rolling down his temple. Across from him, the creature crouched on all fours, its scaled hide glinting with a sickly sheen beneath the pale light. Its wiry patches of hair bristled, slit-pupiled eyes narrowing like it had already decided the outcome.

  The Scaleknuckle.

  A lean, monkey-like beast with a ridged lizard tail curling behind it, legs coiled like compressed steel springs. Each finger twitched, and from its knuckles sprouted jagged, bone-like claws that extended with an audible crack. Rei gripped the hilt of his sword with one hand, the pistol heavy in the other, his jaw set.

  The air snapped between them.

  Then it moved.

  The Scaleknuckle lunged with impossible speed, claws slashing in a blur. Rei barely brought his sword up to parry, the force shuddering down his arm. His pistol fired instinctively.

  Bang, bang!

  but the beast twisted mid-air, its tail whipping, deflecting him off balance. Rei staggered back.

  A clawed kick struck him in the chest.

  “Gah—!” Rei hit the vine pillar hard, his breath knocked out before he even registered the pain. His sword clattered. His pistol nearly slipped. The world spun as the monster leapt again, claws raised to finish it.

  He rolled, scrambled, fired twice more. Both bullets went wide.

  The Scaleknuckle blurred behind him.

  A blow like a sledgehammer smashed into his side, launching him off the pillar. Rei’s vision flared white as he crashed down to the lower vines, dangling on instinct as his fingers barely caught a coil.

  Thirty seconds. That’s all it took.

  The fight was already over.

  “Again,” Rei muttered, coughing, hauling himself back up the vines. His limbs trembled, but his eyes burned with a stubborn fire.

  He reclaimed his sword, reset his stance, and faced the creature once more.

  The Scaleknuckle tilted its head, almost mocking him, before crouching again. Its claws extended with another sickening crack.

  The clash was immediate. Rei tried swinging his sword while firing with his other hand, but his balance was off. His strikes were wild, desperate. Every shot he squeezed was evaded, every swing turned into an opening for punishment.

  The claws shredded through his guard.

  Another heavy kick slammed into his gut, and Rei went sprawling across the vines.

  “Again.” He spat blood, dragging himself back up. His body screamed to stop, but his pride roared louder.

  Again.

  And again.

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  And again.

  For hours, the cycle repeated. Every time, Rei charged in. Every time, he was crushed in less than a minute. The vines shook from the force of his falls, his body ached with bruises and shallow cuts, but he refused to give in.

  By the fifth fall, his arms felt like lead. By the tenth, his vision swam with black spots. By the fifteenth, his breath came out ragged, throat raw from gasps and groans.

  Still—

  “Again,” Rei growled, stumbling upright, sword trembling in his hand.

  The Scaleknuckle crouched low, tail twitching, as if savoring the futility.

  But before Rei could lunge, a voice cut across the battlefield.

  “That’s enough.”

  The command rang soft but firm.

  The vines shuddered once, then the beast froze mid-movement. With a guttural snarl, the Scaleknuckle melted back into the roots, vanishing into the greenery as if it had never been. The arena grew silent.

  Ariel stepped out from the shadows of the vine pillars, her emerald eyes calm yet carrying a sharpness that pierced deeper than any claw.

  Rei collapsed to one knee, his sword’s tip dragging against the vine. His chest heaved. Sweat soaked through his shirt. He glared at the ground, furious at himself.

  “You’re doing it wrong,” Ariel said, approaching.

  Rei’s head snapped up, anger flashing across his face. “What do you mean wrong? I fought with everything I had!”

  “Did you?” she countered softly, tilting her head.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  She stopped in front of him, looking down, arms crossed loosely. “I’m not here to tell you what went wrong. I want you to tell me. What do you think went wrong in your fights with the Scaleknuckle?”

  Rei blinked, thrown off. “You… you’re asking me?”

  “Yes. I want to hear it from you. Every detail.”

  For a long moment, Rei stared at her, caught between frustration and confusion. His body screamed at him to just collapse, but Ariel’s steady gaze left him no escape.

  He closed his eyes, forcing himself to think back. To replay every humiliating second.

  “…I was too slow on my draws,” he muttered first. “Couldn’t switch between sword and pistol fast enough. My shots weren’t precise. I fired out of panic instead of waiting for an opening. My footing slipped whenever it pressured me. Every time I defended with my sword, it found a way to break my guard. I… wasn’t reading it right.”

  He exhaled shakily. “I kept trying to push offense, but it just countered me every time. My style… it’s sloppy. Unbalanced. I wasn’t adapting.”

  Silence stretched. Rei finally opened his eyes, finding Ariel watching him intently.

  “…That’s all I can think of,” he admitted.

  Her lips curved faintly, not quite a smile. “Good. You saw more than you realized. But you’re missing something.”

  Rei frowned. “Missing…?”

  “Creativity.”

  He blinked. “…Creativity?”

  “You’re too rigid,” Ariel said plainly. “Every move you made was by the book. Every parry, every shot, every step. That’s why you lost. You tried to fight like you were taught, not like yourself. And the Scaleknuckle punished you for it.”

  Rei’s hands clenched around his weapons. “But isn’t that the point? To follow the techniques drilled into us?”

  “Techniques are foundations, Rei. Not cages. If you only fight exactly how you’re taught, then you’ll never grow beyond the book. Creativity is what transforms a fighter into something more. Creativity is what makes you unpredictable. Dangerous.”

  Her eyes glimmered as she added, “Think of Elijah.”

  Rei blinked, startled. “…Eli?”

  “His grace is limited, adding mass to objects. Simple. Many would call it useless in battle. But he found a way to wield it with his serpent shaft, using it in ways no instructor would have taught him. He bent the rules. He made something unorthodox, something uniquely his own. That’s creativity.”

  Rei lowered his head, silent.

  “You have tools too,” Ariel continued. “A sword. A pistol. And most importantly, your grace. Don’t complain that it’s hard making something out of nothing.”

  Rei muttered bitterly, “That’s exactly what it feels like…”

  “You’re not making something from nothing.” Her voice sharpened, but not unkindly. “You’re making something from what already exists. You already have the tools at your disposal. You just need to think. Use your brain. And make something.”

  Her words hung in the air, heavier than the bruises on his body.

  Rei stared at his reflection in the blade of his sword. Creativity. Thinking differently. Not just swinging, not just shooting, not just seeing glimpses of the future and hoping they saved him.

  “…Use what I’ve learned so far,” he muttered to himself. “Use it now.”

  He stood again, slow but steady. His legs ached, but his eyes sharpened. He turned toward the vines.

  The Scaleknuckle emerged once more, called by Ariel’s silent command. Its claws extended, gleaming.

  Rei lifted both sword and pistol, setting his stance. But this time, he didn’t rush. His breathing slowed. His mind cleared.

  The creature lunged.

  Rei’s right eye flared with golden light. The faint ticking of a clock echoed in his ears as the phantom shimmer outlined the beast’s next move, its claw slicing rightward.

  Instead of blocking head-on, Rei sidestepped just before it struck, his blade turning the angle to guide its momentum past him. His pistol snapped up.

  Bang!

  A shot grazed the creature’s scaled hide. Not fatal, but closer.

  Rei exhaled, calm.

  Counter, then attack. Defend, but with intent.

  He moved again, letting his grace feed him glimpses, each phantom trail of the Scaleknuckle’s claws giving him a chance to plan. Strike after strike, he waited, parried, redirected, then retaliated with precise jabs of steel or bullets fired at exposed gaps.

  It wasn’t perfect. He still stumbled. Still missed. But he was thinking. He was building something.

  A passive-aggressive style. Balanced. Reactive. Waiting for opportunity, then punishing it.

  The Scaleknuckle snarled, frustrated as its claws failed to land. Rei danced across the vines, always a step ahead—not faster, but prepared.

  His awareness expanded. Each vine pillar, each gap, each position mattered. He shifted his weight, adjusted his angle, planned his space. His training in mobility, his hours of mistakes. All feeding into this moment.

  Then, as he leapt to another pillar, landing with precision, something shifted.

  Both of his eyes ignited this time. Golden light burned in them, brighter, sharper, the ticking louder. His foresight stretched wider, feeding him not just one possible move, but the flow of motion around him.

  He smirked faintly.

  Ariel, watching from below, let out a small, amused chuckle. “Finally. You’re thinking.”

  [End of Chapter]