Time seemed to freeze.

Jack and Alaric stood wide-eyed on the spot. Behind the groaning Thomas, Ren remained calm—eerily so. A pale, water-blue film rapidly spread across Thomas's wound as he clutched his severed wrist, pain etched across his face.

Though Jack and Alaric's eyes tracked Ren's every movement, their reactions lagged behind. It had all happened in the blink of an eye. None of them had expected this swordsman to be so much stronger than Sophia—much less maim Thomas at the very start of the fight.

Jack's expression darkened with tension, while Alaric's features hardened into a mask of icy focus. The latter's thoughts raced.

Did he convert his Mana into ice? Is that the blade's attribute? Or is he doing that through a skill? Maybe he's drawing ice Mana directly from the air...

Alaric's gaze locked onto Ren's katana, his mind cycling through theories. I need to observe more... but first—

Alaric's gaze flicked to Thomas and then to the spot where his friend's hand had been. He must not die.

Though it takes long to explain, everything unfolded in a single, breathless instant.

"JACK—PROTECT THOMAS!" Alaric shouted, already moving to intercept Ren, positioning himself between the swordsman and the fallen Thomas.

Jack responded not with words, but with swift action. Wrapping an arm around Thomas, he dashed to the nearest wall, setting him down gently with his back against it.

"Rest now. I'll protect you," Jack said, kneeling beside him, eyes locked on Thomas's blood-drained face.

Thomas gave a weak shake of his head, managing a faint smirk. "Don't worry, I'm fine. Just a hand. Go help Alaric and finish this quickly."

Jack glanced over his shoulder to see Alaric, poised in silence, watching Ren's back like a predator measuring its strike.

"No," Jack said flatly. "Not unless he's in real danger. I'm staying here. So don't argue—or I'll knock you out myself."

A dry chuckle escaped Thomas's lips. He didn't bother to argue. Instead he turned his eyes toward Alaric as well.

Sword gripped tightly in both hands, Alaric cast a quick glance toward Jack and Thomas. Seeing them safe, he exhaled in quiet relief—then turned his full attention back to Ren, who was slowly pivoting to face him.

Now standing eye to eye, the two exchanged no words.

Ren saw no reason to speak. In his mind, everything that needed saying had already been said before he drew his blade. Anything more would be wasted breath.

It was unfortunate, really. If they'd answered his question from the start, he might've spared them. Because if Sophia was truly the one orchestrating this conflict... then walking away would've been the easiest decision of his life. He would never, under any circumstance, do anything that benefited her. Not willingly.

Alaric's thoughts were focused on one thing: holding on.

If he could buy enough time, Thomas would have a chance to recover—at least enough to defend himself. And once that happened, Alaric could finally commit fully to the fight. In his mind, Ren was strong, yes—but not unbeatable.

With a low shout, Ren stepped forward and slashed. The katana moved like a whisper through the air, the pale veil of fog still clinging to its blade.

The strike was fast—blindingly so—but Alaric reacted just in time, raising his sword to intercept the blow.

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Steel met steel with a deafening clang. The impact rattled through Alaric's arms, forcing him back several steps across the stone floor.

Ren's brows lifted slightly in surprise. Under his breath, he muttered, "He might be the strongest I've met... if I don't count those two monsters."

Two figures flickered through Ren's mind—one with flowing blonde hair, the other with long black hair.

He shook his head, casting the thought aside. Now wasn't the time.

Without hesitation, he struck again. The katana blurred through the air, aimed squarely at Alaric, whose arms still tingled from the impact of the last blow.

Where did this guy come from to be this strong? Alaric thought, narrowly sidestepping the swing. If I keep defending like this... I'll die here.

Gritting his teeth, he made a choice.

As Ren's katana came down once more, Alaric shifted his grip—now wielding his sword with only his right hand. At the same time, he directed dozens of fire Mana particles into his left arm, giving it a slight red hue for a few moments.

The weapons collided.

The force of the impact jolted through him, his left arm flung backward violently. Pain shot up to his shoulder—his bone nearly snapped from the sheer power behind the blow—but he held his ground, refusing to yield.

Ren's eyes widened as a flame ignited in Alaric's left hand. For a split second, he froze—too stunned to react. Power like that… it was something he'd only seen in a rare few.

Alaric didn't waste a moment.

Pouring every ounce of force into his strike, he drove his flaming fist into Ren's gut.

A sharp, acrid scent filled the air as fire met flesh—a fist-sized hole scorched clean through Ren's clothes. A grunt of pain tore from his throat as he staggered back. His grip on the katana faltered for a moment.

From the sidelines, Jack's eyes went wide. "You weren't joking when you said he was strong," he muttered, already turning toward Thomas. "Where the hell did you find him?"

Thomas, despite the pain, managed a faint, smug smile. "I told you, didn't I? He's even stronger than I remembered." He offered no answer to Jack's second question, his gaze fixed once more on the clash happening in front of him.

Seeing that Thomas clearly avoided the topic Jack could only snort and let the matter drop—for now.

Still catching his breath, both from shock and pain, Ren spoke through clenched teeth.

"You… Who are you? Where are you from?"

Alaric's brow furrowed. "You came here to kill me, and you don't even know who I am?"

But then the second question registered—and his mind hit a wall.

Where I'm from?

How was he even supposed to answer that? Everyone was from the Federation. What kind of question was that?

Ren saw the flicker of confusion cross Alaric's face and immediately bit his tongue. A sheen of sweat glistened on his brow, which he quickly wiped away with his sleeve.

Before Alaric could speak again, Ren moved swiftly. The katana sliced through the air, cutting short whatever answer might have followed.

Caught off guard, Alaric couldn't dodge in time. The katana grazed his chest, carving a shallow cut just a few centimeters long.

He hissed through his teeth and stumbled back—but Ren didn't let up.

With relentless speed, Ren launched a kick.

Alaric braced himself, gritting his teeth as he met the strike head-on with his own leg. On the surface, it looked like a reckless block—but in his leg, fire Mana particles were stacked, dozens of them.

Their legs collided mid-air—and Ren felt it instantly.

A searing heat burst against his shin. For a split second, it felt as though he'd kicked a wall of molten iron. Burn marks began to form along his leg, and he cursed through his groans of pain.

But Alaric wasn't left unscathed either. His leg buckled slightly under the force, overwhelmed in raw power. He'd only managed to slightly overpower Ren due to his fire Mana enhanced attack.

I need to concentrate more fire Mana particles if I want to win, Alaric thought, narrowing his eyes as he studied Ren's movements that now weren't as quick as before.

By now, one thing was clear—Ren couldn't manipulate the ambient Mana around them. And his own Mana didn't seem to have an attribute—Alaric would've sensed it in the clash if it did.

That left Alaric with two possibilities for Ren's use of ice Mana—it was either a skill he had learned, or it was tied to the katana's attribute.

The good news, Alaric thought, is that I don't have to worry about him manipulating the Mana particles in the air to boost his attacks.

With that conclusion, he charged forward again.

Steel clashed with steel as their battle resumed—fast, brutal, and relentless. Injuries mounted with every exchange. Both of them were starting to heavily gasp for breath as blood left their bodies.

From the sidelines, Jack and Thomas watched in silence. Each was lost in thought, but one truth echoed in both their minds: Alaric was strong.

But while all eyes remained fixed on the duel, no one noticed that someone was observing everything from a shadowy corner, barely visible even if one knew he was there.

Playing with the two daggers Colin's eyes gleamed. There wasn't a trace of worry for his companion.

A smile tugged at his lips as he whispered to himself, "Ren is stealing all my fun."

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