The forest pulsed with tension.
Blades of light flickered through the canopy as dust swirled from every movement—fast, precise, relentless.
Sara slid back a step, one foot digging into the soil as her punch met the curve of Lillith's umbrella again.
The metallic clang echoed like a bell across the clearing.
Neither of them spoke.
Lillith's posture remained flawless, her expression unreadable. Not a strand of hair out of place.
Sara's breathing was heavier, but her eyes locked in—sharp, calculating.
Several exchanges had passed.
Dodges, blocks, faint grazes.
No decisive hits.
Not yet.
Zayden watched intently from behind a tree, his focus unbroken.
Sara shifted her weight forward.
Lillith mirrored it with a half step and a subtle umbrella tilt—no wasted motion.
Then, with a flick of her wrist, she parried another sharp jab and slid back with elegance.
A low, amused chuckle slipped from her lips.
"Oh? Ho~ Not bad."
She leveled her gaze at Sara, her voice cool and composed.
"You're more tenacious than I anticipated."
Sara didn't flinch.
She pressed forward, fists flowing with purpose—each strike silent and deliberate.
Lillith's voice slipped out, low and unhurried—like she had all the time in the world.
"Calm… focused… obedient," she murmured, twirling her umbrella to catch Sara's kick with effortless grace. "I wonder… if you're truly fighting for your friends?"
She pivoted, leg sweeping in a fluid arc as she ducked beneath a counterattack.
The hem of her dress flared with the motion, a high slit revealing a glimpse of toned thigh.
She slid across the earth, never breaking posture.
Not even the fall of her hair shifted.
"—or you just enjoy fighting like a beast."
Sara's eyes didn't waver.
She closed in again, leaping into a quick spinning strike.
At the last second, she twisted her hips mid-air—her legs parting in a controlled split to dodge a sudden horizontal slash of Lillith's umbrella.
The motion was precise, practiced—dangerously beautiful.
She landed low, skirt brushing her legs, before springing back up with a sharp knee strike that nearly caught Lillith off guard.
Lillith blocked—barely—and the handle of her umbrella slid against Sara's leg, catching just above the thigh.
For the first time, her breath hitched.
A fleeting crease touched her brow.
The two stood still again, inches apart.
A soft breeze teased loose strands of hair and shifted their clothing slightly.
Neither spoke.
But the unspoken tension—between technique, pride, and women who refused to yield—crackled hotter than any shout could.
Sara shifted stance and pushed off the ground faster this time, her elbow shooting forward in a tight arc.
Lillith swayed to the side, umbrella raised.
Sara followed it with a low sweep.
Lillith jumped, spinning mid-air with practiced control.
Her dress lifted slightly with momentum—an elegant silhouette outlined against scattering sunlight.
She landed softly, toes barely disturbing the grass.
Retaliating with a sharp jab of her umbrella's end.
Sara turned with it, letting the blow graze her side, then twisted in close—too close.
Her hand locked against Lillith's wrist.
For the first time, their eyes met at that distance.
A test of wills in a breathless pause.
Then they broke.
Lillith flicked her wrist—umbrella folding inward like a collapsing fan—and slammed the flat side toward Sara's temple.
Sara ducked under, arched her back, and flipped away in a fluid cartwheel.
Her skirt fluttered with the motion.
She landed light, sliding a few feet across the grass, knees bent.
Her chest rose and fell, eyes burning bright.
She shot forward.
Their next clash was even faster—blows barely visible.
Umbrella against fists, cloth whispering against cloth.
Wind pulsed outward with every narrowly avoided strike.
Lillith spun low and swept a leg toward Sara's ankles.
Sara vaulted above it, twisting mid-air again—more daring this time.
She nearly inverted herself, flipping and spinning in a full vertical arc.
Her legs sliced past Lillith's shoulder like twin blades.
Lillith tilted her body back in a slow-motion dodge.
Her dress split wider along the side with the force of movement.
Revealing glimpses of honed muscle beneath elegance.
The motion was beautiful, dangerously close.
Sara landed with a grunt, stepping forward.
But Lillith didn't move immediately.
Following the sharp echoes of clashing blows, Ito and Gakurei moved swiftly through the underbrush.
They ducked low beneath branches as the sounds of battle grew louder.
The air ahead pulsed with tension—each step sending a subtle vibration through the forest floor.
A sudden gust of pressure swept past them.
Gakurei glanced ahead, eyes narrowing.
"It's close."
Pushing past a final thicket, Ito emerged from the dense bushes, eyes widening at the flickering flashes of movement in the clearing.
"Huh? Who's Sara fighting?" he asked, scanning the scene.
Before Gakurei could answer, a familiar voice called out from their right.
"Ito! Here—here!"
They turned.
Just a few meters away, leaning casually against a thick tree trunk, stood Zayden.
He lifted one arm and waved, expression calm, unreadable.
Ito and Gakurei stepped over fallen branches and jogged toward him.
"Zayden," Ito said, eyes flicking back to the clearing, "what's going on?"
Zayden didn't look at them.
His gaze remained fixed ahead.
"It's a long story… What about you two?"
He finally glanced their way.
"What took you so long to come back?"
Ito stepped closer, tone calm.
"We ran into someone… Reginald. He was after flag."
Zayden's eyes narrowed faintly but he didn't interrupt.
"We dealt with him," Gakurei added with a shrug.
Ito looked around.
"Where's Kajin? And Shion, Eriska… they're not with you?"
Zayden exhaled slowly.
"Oh well—he ran off right after his fight, no warning.
Shion and Eriska chased after him."
Sara's fists hung mid-air, frozen in the middle of her fight as Ito's voice cut through the tension.
Without hesitation, she broke away.
Her footsteps pounded softly against the forest floor.
She closed the distance quickly, eyes scanning his face for any sign of injury.
Standing just inches from him now, her breath steady but concern clear.
She reached out and gently brushed a stray lock of hair from his forehead.
"Are you alright? Not hurt anywhere?" she asked, voice low but urgent.
Ito's cheeks flushed a warm pink.
His lips curved into a shy, genuine smile as he nodded.
"Y-yeah, I'm totally alright."
Before Sara could respond, the underbrush rustled sharply.
A familiar figure emerged, stepping silently but with purposeful air.
Ito's eyes sharpened.
His voice rose in surprise and suspicion.
"Huh? Why are you here, Reginald?"
Gakurei's gaze followed, narrowing as he folded his arms.
"Are you still after Ito?"
Reginald's expression didn't change.
His eyes fixed on Lillith as he moved past them with quiet grace.
His posture shifted, and he bowed deeply before her.
"Sorry, Lillith ma'am. I wasn't able to get the flag of that guy Ito," he said with measured respect.
"As your butler, I accept any punishment you give me."
The soft rustle of his clothing was the only sound in the tense silence that followed.
Ito blinked, mouth dropping open in disbelief.
"Wait… did he just say 'butler'?"
Gakurei's eyes nearly popped out as he whistled low.
"A butler? Seriously? I didn't see that coming."
They exchanged a look of stunned amusement.
The tension momentarily broke between them.