Sluggish.

Unlike his first two fights, Cassian's movements now drew the eyes of the onlookers for a different reason. His dodges were no longer effortless, his blocks sluggish, and every strike felt heavier than it should. This wasn't some act to appear weaker — his body genuinely refused the fluidity it had once obeyed without thought.

He could feel it: weight pressing down on his limbs, resistance in his muscles, a strange heaviness that slowed him with each motion. The white-haired boy's domain was invisible, yet its presence pressed against him like a living thing, twisting the very space around his attacks.

Cassian's smirk faltered, replaced by the tiniest frown. He exhaled slowly, tasting the metallic chill in the air. Each movement came a heartbeat late, as if time itself had grown thick, his body betraying the speed it had once wielded as instinct.

The white-haired man reappeared, crouched low, blades crossed like twin fangs. His pale eyes flicked toward Cassian, calm and piercing. "We, as Circle Warriors, believe that only with our limbs, we can harm others." he said, his voice a whisper that carried weight, "whether we attack directly with them, or use them to control other lethal things… don't you agree?" Cassian's mind raced, trying to understand what was happening.

"But for ages," the man whispered, voice low and chilling, "since men first began to harbor complex thoughts and the desire to reign over others, it has never been the strength of muscle that did it. No… it was words, the tongue, that ruled over people…" He let the words hang in the air, then added softly, "Stop…"

Cassian's ears strained to hear, and in that instant of distraction, he faltered. His hands barely escaped being sliced through as the white-haired warrior's blade shot past — only his domain saved him, reacting instinctively to provide resistance and mend the small wounds. His body, however, had betrayed him. Every movement felt sluggish, unresponsive, as if some unseen weight held him down.

To the onlookers, it appeared Cassian had grown suddenly weak. He struggled, yes, but not because the warrior was faster or stronger — the white-haired man's speed was nothing compared to Fenja or Kirja, even slightly slower than Kirja's slower strikes. Yet his advantage lay elsewhere, in that strange, invisible manipulation that forced Cassian to fight against himself while maintaining the illusion of control.

Cassian gritted his teeth, forcing a growl past lips that barely moved. His limbs felt like they belonged to someone else — heavy, sluggish, resisting his will. Every instinct screamed at him to move faster, to strike, to do something, but his body betrayed him.

The white-haired man approached calmly, steps soft, deliberate. His expression didn't change — not arrogance, not malice — only that unnerving stillness, as if he already knew the outcome.

"Strength… speed… even talent," the man murmured, each word rolling like silk and poison both, "they crumble before will refined through voice. You hear me… and your body remembers the command."

Cassian felt it again — that subtle tug, that invisible hand pressing against his thoughts. The man's words weren't just sounds; they echoed inside his head, shaping his reactions. His fingers twitched involuntarily, his knees nearly gave out. His domain strained to keep him upright, flickering faintly around his body like a distorted mirage.

He tried to speak, to mock or even question, but the moment he opened his mouth, the man's next word slipped through the air like a blade.

"Stay still."

And Cassian froze.

It wasn't total paralysis — his heart still pounded, his lungs still dragged air — but his body refused his mind's command. His sword trembled mid-guard, locked in place as if invisible chains bound it there.

The white-haired man tilted his head, eyes gleaming faintly silver in the sun. "Even for Circle warriors, words hold power," he said quietly. "You've trained your will to command your Domain. I've trained mine to command others."

The blade grazed past Cassian's neck — close enough to tear a strip of flesh from his cheek, bone flashing white for an instant. The white-haired warrior blinked, momentarily thrown off by how fast Cassian had moved despite the weight pressing on him.

A faint smile touched the man's lips. "You resist. Good," he murmured, voice soft but carrying like a whisper in a storm. "It means I can speak louder."

He advanced, slow and deliberate, twin blades tracing shallow scars into the dirt. The surrounding air vibrated faintly — as if even the steel echoed his words.

Cassian's domain pulsed again, the air whipping around him in a brief gust. The strain was tearing through him, every vein burning like molten lead.

"Your words…" he rasped finally, forcing the sound through gritted teeth, "don't work… on me."

The man chuckled — a quiet, hollow sound. "They already do."

And then he spoke again — louder this time. Cassian saw it, the faint shimmer of the man's Domain finally flickering into view around his body like rippling air.

"Kneel."

The single word struck like a hammer. Cassian's own Killing Domain flared in chaos, its energy thrashing wildly as if rebelling against the command. His knees buckled, trembling under the invisible weight pressing down on him. Every vein in his body strained as he fought to stay upright.

The onlookers stared in stunned silence. The clash before them no longer looked like a duel between Circle Warriors — it felt like sorcery, like some unseen spell a mage would use.

"No…" Cassian's voice came out low, guttural — more beast than man. His pupils flared crimson, glowing like molten coals as his red hair whipped around him, stirred by the violent pulse of his Domain. The air itself shuddered from the pressure he exuded.

He refused to kneel. Every muscle in his body screamed, fibers tearing under the strain. Blood trickled from his mouth, his body trembling from the sheer force he used just to remain upright.

The white-haired warrior only watched, calm and unblinking, as if studying an animal refusing its leash. His lips curved faintly before he spoke again, voice cutting through the roar of energy — louder, sharper.

"Kneel."

Cassian's body convulsed under the command, veins bulging, skin flushed red from internal heat. His muscles burned as if molten iron ran through them, blood vessels threatening to burst. And yet, he stood — unmoving, unbroken, defying every order his body screamed to obey.

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