Roseiral stood steady, her breath controlled but her mind racing. She narrowed her eyes at Giovane, watching his stance shift subtly, exuding a new intensity.
"Is it the potion… or my improvement so far that I can feel this?" Roseiral thought, her muscles tense. "Giovane's getting more serious. I'm not even Fragmented, but I can sense it—his energy is different. How did a kid like him grow this strong? How did he survive the elixir when most can't?"
Before she could dwell on the thought, Giovane moved. A blur of speed, he disappeared from her line of sight and reappeared behind her in an instant.
A sharp whoosh cut the air as Giovane's right fist surged toward her. Roseiral twisted her torso at the last second, raising her arm to block the attack. The impact reverberated through her frame like a shockwave.
"Again with the surprises?" Roseiral quipped through gritted teeth. "I'm already used to it!"
Giovane didn't reply, his only answer a relentless series of strikes. His movements became sharper, more calculated, each blow packing more force than the last. Roseiral deflected his hits, but each impact felt heavier, her arms trembling as she absorbed the shock. Giovane's fists were unyielding, his precision a testament to his training.
"I can't keep this up," Roseiral thought, her defenses faltering. "If I keep letting him control the pace, it'll be over."
Summoning her resolve, Roseiral ducked low, dodging a powerful swing aimed for her temple, and launched herself backward to create distance.
Giovane straightened slightly, watching her retreat. A flicker of amusement passed over his face, but Roseiral didn't give him the satisfaction of waiting. She dashed forward the moment she regained her footing, fists at the ready.
The two clashed in the middle of the open space, a storm of blows exchanged with unrelenting speed.
Roseiral's fist swung toward Giovane's ribs, but he parried it with a quick forearm block, retaliating with a jab aimed at her jaw. She weaved to the side, her counter-strike narrowly grazing his cheek. Giovane stepped forward, closing the gap with an elbow strike, which Roseiral barely ducked under before driving a sharp knee toward his midsection. Giovane twisted, avoiding the strike with a hair's breadth of space, and spun into a roundhouse kick.
The kick grazed Roseiral's shoulder as she leaned back, shifting her momentum to deliver an upward punch. It caught Giovane under the chin, snapping his head back slightly, but his reaction was swift—his palm shot out, aiming for her sternum. Roseiral deflected the blow, the force still enough to stagger her a step.
They continued to trade blows, neither gaining a clear upper hand. Giovane's movements were fluid, almost mechanical in their precision, while Roseiral's counters came from sheer instinct and adaptability. Every punch and kick echoed in the chamber, each impact laced with the weight of their determination.
The exchange escalated as Roseiral began to match Giovane's pace. Her strikes became sharper, her movements more deliberate. She could feel her muscles burning, her breaths growing labored, but she refused to yield.
For a moment, their fists collided mid-swing, a thunderous crack filling the space. The force sent both combatants sliding back, Giovane skidding on his heels while Roseiral stumbled but regained her footing.
Panting heavily, Roseiral wiped a bead of sweat from her brow. Giovane smirked, brushing his chin where her punch had landed earlier.
"You're full of surprises too," he remarked, his tone calm but edged with excitement. "I almost feel bad this'll end soon."
Roseiral narrowed her eyes, clenching her fists. "We'll see about that."
iovane smirked as he wiped his chin with the back of his hand, seemingly unfazed by the blow Roseiral had landed earlier. His composure unnerved her, but what came next made her blood run cold.
Giovane raised his arm, flexing his muscles slightly as if to shake off the sting of her punch. Roseiral's eyes widened when she saw the bruise she'd inflicted earlier was gone—completely erased. In its place, a faintly glowing clock indicator shimmered just below his skin.
"What… is that?" Roseiral muttered under her breath, her unease growing with every second. The clock appeared to be counting down.
Her instincts screamed that something was wrong. She took a step back, tightening her guard, and decided against rushing in blindly.
"It's not safe to fight something I don't understand," she reasoned, watching Giovane closely. His stance was eerily calm, his expression smug. He wasn't moving, wasn't attacking—just standing there as the clock on his arm ticked away.
Roseiral's mind raced. "What happens when it hits zero? Does he get a boost in power? Is it some kind of explosive attack?!"
Her unease turned to urgency. "If I wait too long, it could be too late. I need to stop him before whatever that thing does activates!"
Steeling herself, Roseiral tightened her fists and sprang into action, dashing forward with a burst of speed. She aimed a sharp punch at his torso, hoping to interrupt whatever was happening.
Giovane's grin widened. "Finally."
ust as Roseiral was about to strike, her instincts screamed a warning, but it was too late. A fist appeared right in front of her face—Giovane's—but the angle didn't make sense. Her reflexes kicked in, and she barely tilted her head to avoid the hit.
Before she could recover, three versions of Giovane seemed to materialize around her, each attacking in perfect unison. She felt the force of simultaneous punches—one slamming into her ribs, another catching her side, and the last brushing past her shoulder. The disorienting impacts sent her stumbling.
"What… What is this?!" Roseiral thought, panic flickering in her mind as she tried to regain her footing.
Giovane didn't give her the chance. With an almost acrobatic fluidity, he flipped over her head, landing silently behind her. The moment her feet found solid ground again, his sweeping kick took her legs out from under her, sending her to her knees.
Before she could react, Giovane's arm snaked around her neck in a quick chokehold. He didn't squeeze; it was a demonstration of control, of dominance.
"You gave it your all," Giovane murmured close to her ear, his tone almost amused. "But it's over."
With that, he released her, stepping back as Roseiral slumped forward slightly, her breath coming in sharp gasps. She clutched at her neck, glaring at him with a mix of frustration and determination.
Giovane stood tall, the faint glow of the clock on his arm fading into nothing. Whatever power he'd activated had served its purpose, leaving him as composed as when the fight began.
"Fragmenters' strength rules above all," Giovane declared, his voice calm but with an edge of finality. "You can fight with heart, with strategy, even with desperation... but in the end, raw strength is what decides everything."
Roseiral clenched her fists, his words cutting deeper than any physical blow. She forced herself to stand, swaying slightly but refusing to crumble under the weight of defeat.
Giovane tilted his head, watching her with faint amusement. "Don't take it personally," he said, brushing dust off his arm. "You're tough—tougher than most I've fought—but that's what makes this lesson valuable. If you want to survive in this world, you'll need more than guts."
Turning his back to her, Giovane began to walk away, his presence as commanding as ever. Roseiral stood rooted in place, a storm of emotions swirling in her chest.
Giovane paused mid-step, tilting his head slightly as if he'd forgotten something. He turned back to Roseiral, a sly grin spreading across his face, his eyes gleaming with mischief.
"Oh, and by the way," he said, his tone mockingly casual, "I was just using 10% of my power."
Before Roseiral could react, he raised his hand and formed an "L" with his fingers, holding it up mockingly as he smirked. "Better luck next time," he added with a wink, turning back around and striding away with an air of infuriating nonchalance.
Roseiral's fists clenched so tightly her knuckles turned white, but she stayed rooted to the spot, watching Giovane disappear into the distance. The sting of his words and that smug gesture burned more than the physical blows she'd endured.
As Giovane strolled away, his arrogant posture radiating confidence, Roseiral stood frozen, processing his words.
"Ten days," she muttered under her breath, the reality of his challenge sinking in. Her shoulders slumped, and she let out a long, exhausted sigh.
"Oh god," she groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Ten days of suffering with this fucking kid?"
She looked at the ground, mentally cursing her luck, then back at Giovane's retreating figure. He was still tossing up that obnoxious L sign like he was the king of the world.
"Great," she muttered sarcastically. "This is going to be amazing."
She started walking back toward the dorm, every step reminding her of the bruises already forming on her body. But despite her complaints, there was a flicker of determination in her eyes.
If I have to survive ten days with him, I'll make sure he regrets underestimating me.