A hollow in her chest…

4.

In terms of speed, 5 being Freya’s best, at least a 4 was needed to hit Lea; any lower and her swing wouldn’t connect. Ideally, to win, she needed to throw 4s or 5s; however, Freya was carrying damage from her previous fight against Lea, and it was impossible for her to perform a 4, more so a 5.

Krsh!

Lupine shattered to pieces.

I can’t move as fast as I want to…

Freya’s swing had missed. Lea managed to dodge and—her swing wasn’t evaded by a narrow breadth, but by a gap. What she just threw was without a doubt a 2. Lower than a 4 by a gap.

A chance for such a counter might—would never show up again.

Freya couldn’t end the fight there and then.

If I had done it differently, would I have won? Freya couldn’t help but think; the fight was so disadvantageous to her. There’s no use dwelling on it. The path to victory was—like walking through a fog: She couldn’t see the path ahead; there were deadly pitfalls she might fell into, but she had to keep going.

The goal was obscured, but she knew it was there. Freya knew she could win.

It’s… alright…

She will never realize…

***

Kokuri glared at the violet-haired swordswoman with her pitch-black eyes.

The grin that surfaced on her expression was ear-to-ear; she didn’t miss that showing of weakness, of her opponent unable to execute a swing fast enough to hit her. Her opponent was slow.

Kokuri turned and faced the swordswoman.

There’s no next time, she thought, glee, you’re dying here by my hands.

She pressed her foot on the ground, grabbing hold of the world underneath, and dashed forward at her fastest.

Lupine had already reformed itself, but the sword hardly mattered; its performance depended on the wielder.

Unlike the swordswoman who slowed down due to tiredness and damage, Kokuri’s immortality—her regeneration—allowed her to fight at her best form and keep her speed constant. As it stood right now, Kokuri wouldn’t lose in a battle of speed.

She cladded her kunai with Darkness Elemental Magic, without gravity this time, and swung.

Vwoom!!

The swordswoman dodged by sidestepping to the left.

But her dodge was far from perfect. Blood fell, painting the ground crimson. Kokuri’s attack failed to make full contact, but she finally managed to land a clean hit, one which wasn’t due to her opponent’s carelessness.

The swordswoman’s right upper shoulder was clawed by the darkness.

Kokuri’s grin grew ever more wicked.

***

…

Freya could hardly feel her right arm.

She knew it was still there, still attached, but the feel of touch was lost. Her right hand’s fingers, she glanced, could still move; but, without looking, she wouldn’t be able to tell how precise they were moving. With her free hand being an uncertainty that she couldn’t predict, there would be no way to utilize it to dodge.

No way to utilize it to intercept attacks.

Lea, not giving time to dwell, chased after Freya with the same dash. Kunai cladded with darkness.

Freya followed Lea’s movement with her amethyst eyes.

***

Something was off.

Kokuri couldn’t tell what it was, but, as she dashed, she could vaguely sense it—no, she knew for sure, could tell with certainty that her opponent…

You… Kokuri stared into those amethyst eyes which remained alive.

… wouldn’t let it end like this.

The swordswoman swung her sword. The swing was—slow, obvious, and simply begged to be dodged. It would never hit Kokuri, not unless she kept on dashing forward mindlessly and ran straight to the blade. Thus, Kokuri stopped short.

Swish.

The swing missed.

The swordswoman then stepped to the side.

‘…’ Kokuri’s eyes opened wide, furious. Her dash—had been stopped just like that. Though she couldn’t remember where she gained the knowledge, she knew what this was:

***

A preemptive attack.

It was a swing—a 2—that was intended to miss.

Freya could still defend against Lea, but she couldn’t transition a preemptive attack into a counter. Winning was impossible with just preemptive attacks alone.

This is the only move I have left…

***

Again, Kokuri chased; she could—anticipate it.

The swordswoman swung her sword, slow and obvious.

Swish.

It missed, slashed empty air, but halted Kokuri’s dash. That frustrated her greatly. Her opponent was stalling her death with a method Kokuri perceived as ridiculous. Can you get any more annoying?!

Just die already!!

Kokuri dashed toward the swordswoman.

She chose the straightforward method to overcome her opponent’s preemptive attack: to continue that same approach, vary with each try, and keep applying pressure until she broke. This was an approach that the immortal Kokuri—someone with unlimited stamina—could choose to triumph.

***

Similar exchanges continued repetitively.

Freya only had that preemptive attack against Lea’s continuous pressure.

As the fight progressed, it established a rhythm that only the two fighters understood, and their exchanges were like a well-tuned dance where the performers communicated with their every moves. Lea led with a sharp step in; Freya followed with a slow turn. Like a puppet-master and a broken marionette.

***

I can see it, Kokuri thought.

After many attempts against the preemptive attack, Kokuri could finally see the swordswoman’s movements.

Inside the sanctum, where rain fell a crashing weight on the roof and where wind blew foul roars on the walls, Kokuri could see hints of fog in the shape of the swordswoman. Fog which would disclose her opponent’s move.

If Kokuri halted, the fog would disappear, for the swordswoman would stand still.

If Kokuri dashed, the fog would make a swinging motion, for the swordswoman would throw a preemptive attack.

She knew:

Maybe because she had gotten used to fighting her. Mayhap because her opponent was running out of stamina. Or perhaps because—she had fought her before… in a different place and time… and was recalling vague bits of it.

If I dash now, your swing would be too slow to become a preemptive attack.

Why? The reason eluded her. There was no basis and no guarantee that her opponent would be too slow, but Kokuri simply—knew. She could see that if she dashed now, the fog would make a swinging motion that would be too slow.

Relying on this instinct, Kokuri pressed forward.

Responding to her dash, the swordswoman swung her sword. This sight, of her action, unlike the fog, was guaranteed. The swing was too slow to become a preemptive attack. Against that speed, with her dash, Kokuri’s attack would land first.

She cladded her kunai with Darkness Elemental Magic.

Even if the swing could pick up speed, knowing her current best speed, it wouldn’t be enough to catch up.

This is it... Kokuri swung her kunai.

This was the last clash that would determine the fate of Lune.

I can finally die…