Chapter 220

One of the hidden perks of [Bolt Dagger Style] was not simply speed and flexibility.

Speed and flexibility merely the surface.

The real advantage lay deeper—an instinctive awareness of weakness. Lines of motion, imbalances in stance, overcommitments in breath. Kana didn’t see them as glowing marks or clear flaws. She felt them, like a wrong note in a melody.

And Boris—

Boris had none of those weak points.

That realization sent a shiver of excitement through her spine.

He was balanced. Solid. Every muscle aligned with purpose, his posture grounded as if the earth itself had accepted him as an anchor. That kind of equilibrium only came from overwhelming endurance—high vitality, sturdy bones, a body built to endure rather than evade.

Which meant there was only one crack in his defense.

Speed.

Kana could move a beat faster than him. And that would have to be enough.

She could have chased the suspected Phantom Thief. She knew that. But with Boris like this—unleashed, unrestrained—letting him rampage through unfamiliar territory was reckless. His skills tore space apart. His attacks had an AOE effect.

And if people were nearby…

That would make things difficult especially when she gave the report to the king.

And—if she was honest with herself—she wanted this.

Kana inhaled slowly, steadying her breath.

Across from her, Boris stood motionless, spear angled diagonally before him. The wild aggression from earlier was gone. His stance was compact, guarded. Controlled.

He wasn’t hunting anymore.

He was waiting.

So he figured it out too, Kana thought.

The moment their eyes met, she knew—Boris had realized hiding his presence no longer mattered with her eyes opened and seeing his large body. So he had shifted.

From brute force—

To discipline.

Kana’s lips twitched.

“Good call,” she muttered.

Then she exploded forward.

The ground cracked beneath her foot, compressing distance in a blink of an eye. The air screamed as her dagger flashed, her arm splitting into a dozen afterimages.

[Assault Dagger]

Steel rang.

Once.

Twice.

Then again—rapid, relentless.

Boris reacted instantly.

His spear became a spinning wall of metal, haft and blade moving with terrifying precision. Each strike Kana threw—every feint, every sudden angle—was met, redirected, deflected by inches.

Not luck.

Raw skill.

Kana’s eyes sharpened.

She shifted angles, circling left, then right, ducking low, lunging high—trying to slip inside his guard. If she could get close enough, the spear’s reach would become a liability.

But Boris retreated.

Not stumbling. Not panicking.

Just enough.

A single step. A subtle slide of his rear foot. Always keeping her at the very edge of his range.

Too far.

Always too far.

His height amplified the problem. Combined with the spear’s length and weight, it created a killing zone she couldn’t quite breach. Every time she thought she’d found an opening, the spearhead was already there—waiting.

Kana grit her teeth.

Damn it.

Her dagger was a predator’s weapon—lethal up close, useless at arm’s length. And Boris knew that. Worse, he was patient.

Should I switch to the bow?

The thought flickered through her mind. One well-placed shot could change everything—but Boris could deflect arrows. And if she misjudged even slightly…

Boris might get fatally injured.

She exhaled sharply.

No.

Boris struck back, sudden and precise. The spear lunged forward, not a full attack—just a probing thrust, testing her reaction.

Kana slipped aside a heartbeat before impact, her [High Awareness] screaming warnings milliseconds ahead of reality. She twisted, parried the shaft with her dagger’s flat, sparks spraying as metal kissed metal.

Another strike followed.

Then another.

Boris was pressing now—but carefully. No skills. No explosive techniques. Just raw martial mastery.

Kana felt it then.

The thrill.

This wasn’t chaos. This wasn’t desperation.

This was two warriors, fully awake, testing the limits of one another though Kana wasn’t sure if Boris was truly awake.

And Kana for whatever reason smiled.

Kana didn’t know how much time had passed. They fought until the world narrowed to motion and breath.

Steel screamed every time the spear met dagger, the sound sharp enough to cut through the cold air. Sparks scattered like spark of lightning, flashing briefly against the frost-dark stone before vanishing. Kana became a streak of motion—darting in, slashing, retreating, then attacking again from another angle entirely. Her boots scraped and skidded, feet barely touching the ground as she shifted her weight with relentless precision.

Boris did not advance.

He did not retreat.

He stood.

His spear moved like an extension of his hands—controlled, devastatingly efficient. Every parry was minimal. He wasted nothing.

Kana’s jaw tightened.

She changed her rhythm. Faster. Lighter. She forced more exchanges, letting metal collide again and again, deliberately testing his endurance. His spear was heavy—she could feel it in every clash. Each impact carried weight, vibration traveling up her arm, rattling her bones.

This is not working.

Sweat slid down Kana’s temple, freezing slightly as the winter air kissed it. Her breathing sharpened, lungs drawing in cold air that burned on the way down.

Boris was sweating too but not as much as her.

Not to mention his shoulders were still steady.

His stance hadn’t loosened.

No… Kana realized. He isn’t getting tired. It was the opposite.

She forced herself to observe and think for a moment.

Boris hadn’t moved more than a few steps from where the fight had started. While she circled, lunged, pivoted—spent energy—Boris had turned the battlefield into his anchor point.

She was draining herself from moving around.

Then the atmosphere changed.

Not fast.

Not loud.

Just decisive because Boris was able to see a moment of opportunity.

[Cleave]

Kana reacted on instinct, leaping backward as Boris drove his spear into the ground. The impact detonated outward—stone ruptured, cracks racing like lightning beneath her feet. Dust surged upward in a choking cloud, fragments pelting the walls as the ceiling groaned in protest.

Visibility vanished.

Then—

Nothing.

Her [High Awareness] screamed once, violently—

And then fell silent.

Boris was gone.

Kana’s heartbeat quickened. 

Zia’s breathing… He really mastered it already. He erased himself completely.

The absence was worse than any threat. It felt like standing before an open void, knowing something massive lurked just beyond sight.

She slowed her breathing.

Think. It must be similar to what he was doing before.

Dust swirled. The cold air brushed her skin.

A disturbance—barely there—rippled behind her.

Kana spun. Fortunately for her, It was the same pattern he used whenever he hid his presence against his enemy—take advantage of the thick dust in the air after [Cleave], hide his presence then attack the enemy from behind.

The spear tore through the dust like a thunderbolt.

[Spear Strike]

The force behind it compressed the air, the impact meant to crush your bones. Kana twisted aside at the last instant, the spearhead slicing past her ribs so close she felt the wind of it. The weapon struck stone with a deafening crack, the ground shattering beneath the blow.

Boris finally had committed one of his attacks.

That was the opening she was waiting for.

Kana launched herself forward. She vaulted, planting a foot on his shoulder, momentum carrying her upward as the spear remained embedded for a fraction of a second too long. The world tilted. Time stretched.

Now.

She had thought this through before—countless times.

Knock him out.

Or wake him up.

Kana clenched her fist, dagger angled away, and struck. She would wake him up from whatever controlling him  by shaking his head.

She aimed for his jaw.

But her punch landed squarely on his eye.

Bone met force.

Boris reeled, a sharp grunt tearing from his throat as his head snapped sideways. Kana hit the ground running. Her next strike slammed into his gut, all her weight behind it.

Boris staggered, choking as air fled his lungs. His knees buckled.

Kana surged forward.

Her knee crashed into his head.

The impact echoed.

Boris collapsed, hitting the stone hard enough to send dust puffing outward. Kana was on him instantly, straddling his torso, tossing her dagger aside as if it no longer existed.

Her fists came down in controlled fury.

Left.

Right.

Again and Again.

Each blow was precise, —not wild, not hateful. Every strike was a question hammered into his skull.

Wake up!

Boris raised his arms instinctively, shielding his head, confusion finally breaking through the haze clouding his eyes.

“What—what is happening?!” he shouted, voice cracking. “Why are you beating me?!”

Kana paused for half a breath. Just long enough to see it. “You finally talk.”

The resistance wasn’t gone—but it was fracturing. The unnatural sharpness in his movements had dulled. The pressure surrounding him—whatever had been steering him—was loosening its grip. Kana checked out the status of her party from the text of god. Boris' name was no longer in red and went back to normal.

“Your HP is more than half. You should be alright.” Kana stood then gulped as she looked at Boris’ face. Did I overdo it?

……

Suri, Chelle, Opel, and Asha ran through the underground district, boots striking damp stone in uneven rhythm. The air down here was thick—heavy with smoke, old metal, and the lingering scent of oil lamps that never quite burned clean. Shadows clung stubbornly to every corner, stretching long and distorted along the walls as they passed.

Behind them, Thorne followed.

Not openly.

Not closely.

Thorne kept her distance, appearing and vanishing between alley mouths and broken pillars like a nervous echo. Every time Chelle glanced back, she caught only a flicker of movement—a tail slipping behind rubble, a faint scrape against stone.

“Will that little guy be alright?” Asha asked, breath steady despite the pace, eyes flicking over her shoulder.

“It’s a girl,” Suri replied without slowing. “She hid herself earlier. Probably has a concealment skill—lizards usually do.” Her tone sharpened slightly. “She must’ve run out of mana.”

Thorne didn’t approach them after that. She didn’t need to. Whatever instinct drove her was enough to keep her moving.

Then—

Thud.

The sound rolled through the underground like distant thunder, low and heavy. Dust shook loose from the ceiling. The ground trembled faintly beneath their feet.

They all stopped.

Opel’s grip tightened around his mace. “Someone did it,” he said grimly. “Someone’s fighting.”

Suri closed her eyes for half a second. Shadows stirred at her feet, peeling away like living things. “I’ll send a scout,” she said. “If that’s Boris and Kana, they’ll probably be alright, or that might be Bori’s loud skill.” A pause—then, dryly, “And I don’t want to hear Kana complain later that we ignored the real target.”

Her shadows slipped ahead, flowing through cracks and corners.

Her eyes snapped open.

“The server is moving,” Suri said. “Heading outside. Let’s hurry!”

They broke into a sprint.

When they emerged into the wider passage near the exit secret passage leading to outside the wall, they spotted him immediately.

The suspected phantom thief stood near the wall, unhurried, methodically securing a large case to the side of his horse. His movements were calm—too calm—as if the chaos behind him were nothing more than distant noise.

Then he noticed them.

His eyes widened just a fraction.

The man vaulted into the saddle, boots finding their place as he yanked hard on the reins. Mana flickered around his eyes.

Asha didn’t hesitate.

[Ice Wall]

The air snapped with cold. Frost bloomed outward as a solid wall of ice erupted from the stone, sealing the exit completely. The horse reared, screaming, hooves scraping uselessly against frozen ground.

People nearby shouted, scrambling back as the temperature dropped more.

The man’s eyes sharpened. He focused—pushed mana harder.

Suri felt it instantly.

“Now,” she said softly. “Chelle.”

Chelle Pint slammed her staff into the ground.

[Nullify Zone]

Mana collapsed inward like a snuffed flame. The pressure vanished. The man swore viciously, panic flashing across his face for the second time.

Opel didn’t waste the moment.

He leapt.

The mace left his hand in a brutal arc, spinning end over end before slamming into the man’s arms as he raised them to shield his head. The impact rang out like a bell struck too hard.

Bone cracked.

The man was thrown from the saddle, hitting the ground in a bloody heap.

Opel jogged over, blinking. “Huh. He’s weaker than I expected.” He tilted his head. “He’s alive… right?”

Asha smacked the back of his helmet hard enough to make it ring. “Be careful, you idiot. If he dies, this entire quest fails. You know our payment is at stake, right?”

“Right. Right.” Opel quickly knelt, binding the man’s arms and legs. Blood seeped from the man’s forearms, staining the stone.

“Cover his eyes,” Suri ordered.

Opel tore off his cloak and wrapped it tightly around the man’s head, knotting it in place.

Suri exhaled slowly, shadows withdrawing.

“They were really in that area,” she murmured, frowning. “Earlier, where the loud sounds came from.”

“…But they look exhausted,” she added grimly. “And Boris—”

She froze.

“Someone beat Boris.”

A chill ran through her that had nothing to do with Asha’s ice. She knew Kana and Boris well. Even seasoned adults were no match for them. Whoever had clashed with them tonight wasn’t ordinary.

Post note:

Happy a great weekend!

Hope you enjoy the chap! 🙂