Yuan Qing waved his hand, transforming his forearm into raven feathers that fanned out towards his opponent. Hundreds of tiny black feathers burst open before Hifumi, blocking her line of sight.
Hifumi did not retreat. She closed her eyes. The White Snake’s forked tongue gave a gentle lick on her forearm. A snake’s sense of smell is faster than eyes.
Her blade pierced through the cloud of raven feathers, cutting precisely towards Yuan Qing’s position.
Yuan Qing was no longer there.
Using his enhanced legs, he had circled around to Hifumi’s side. His right fist was already coiled with power, aimed at the small of Hifumi’s back.
Hifumi’s body twisted one hundred and eighty degrees the instant the fist’s wind touched her. The cold blade was held horizontally behind her, its flat side blocking Yuan Qing’s punch.
Thud—
A dull pain shot through the knuckles of Yuan Qing’s fingers, but he did not withdraw his fist. He pressed down on the blade with his fist, pushing Hifumi back a step.
Hifumi planted her foot firmly, steadying herself.
Yuan Qing’s second punch was already arriving.
Hifumi withdrew her blade, turned her body sideways. The fist grazed past her shoulder.
The third punch.
This time, Hifumi’s blade swept upwards from below. The edge traced a silvery-white arc, slicing towards Yuan Qing’s chest.
Yuan Qing did not pull back his fist.
His fist continued forward, aimed at Hifumi’s shoulder.
Hifumi’s blade also continued forward, its edge aiming for his chest.
Two trajectories crossed in the air, like two lines about to intersect. Who was faster? Yuan Qing didn’t know. Hifumi didn’t know either.
The White Snake coiled around the sword hilt, its crimson eyes fixed on Yuan Qing’s fist. It was calculating—calculating the speed of this punch, calculating the trajectory of this blade, calculating who would land the hit first.
Then the White Snake saw it.
A deadlock.
Yuan Qing’s fist and Hifumi’s blade would strike each other at the exact same moment.
What kind of resolve was Hifumi embracing, to accept what the White Snake had said?
Yuan Qing’s will wavered in that instant.
Hifumi’s blade gained half a beat. Yuan Qing’s fist began to fall behind.
“Eagle” was still operating, still predicting the trajectory of every slash, but his body could no longer keep up. Every dodge was just a little slower than the prediction.
Hifumi’s blade edge grazed past Yuan Qing’s ribs. The black robe tore open another gash. Yuan Qing retreated. Hifumi pressed forward.
Hifumi’s blade grew faster and faster. Yuan Qing’s evasions became more and more desperate. His body weaved through the flashes of blade light—turning sideways, pulling back his shoulder, ducking his head, sliding his feet. Every movement consumed his dwindling stamina.
“Miss Raven is falling behind!” the commentator exclaimed. “Miss Kazama’s edge hasn’t dulled!”
“That’s right,” the guest commentator nodded. “Miss Raven will have to get serious now.”
Serious…
All this time, I’ve just been muddling along, surviving day to day, and I’ve never felt any guilt about it. This is the first time since I grew up that I’ve wanted to achieve a goal so strongly, that I’ve wanted to win. But Miss Kazama is…
Twelve thousand people. Everyone in the spectator stands watched the black figure continuously retreating within the white flashes of blade light. Yuan Qing’s movements grew slower and slower, his openings larger and larger.
Mizuho stood in the corner, her fingers clutching her clothes so tightly they had gone stiff. She watched Yuan Qing’s movements—the sideways turn half a beat too slow, the shoulder pull a moment too late, the head duck an inch too shallow.
“He can’t hold on much longer,” the clone’s voice was very soft.
Hifumi’s blade suddenly changed direction. The silvery-white back of the blade swept sideways towards Yuan Qing’s ribs from the side. This wouldn’t cause injury, but if it connected, his balance would completely collapse.
Yuan Qing saw it.
His “Eagle” told him the trajectory, speed, and point of impact of this move. His brain made the judgment. His body received the command. But his legs didn’t move.
Should I move?
What kind of resolve should I embrace to respond to Miss Kazama?
Half a second too late.
Miss Mine is holding back. Hifumi had already realized it.
But Hifumi could no longer pull back. The back of the blade struck his ribs solidly. The force of the impact sent his body toppling sideways. He instinctively tried to brace himself with his right wing, but there were hardly any raven feathers left on it. It couldn’t hold.
He could only fall to the ground.
The black robe splayed open. Raven feathers scattered. His face pressed against the cold floor. He could see Hifumi’s toes across from him.
“Miss Raven is down!” The commentator’s voice was sharp, almost cracking. “Can she get up?”
“…” The guest commentator did not reply.
In the distance, the voice coming from the loudspeakers sounded blurred to Yuan Qing now, as if diffusing through water.
The gazes of twelve thousand people were nailed to him.
Some were cheering for him. Some were urging him to get up. Some just had their mouths open, unable to make a sound.
“Can’t get up?” Hifumi’s voice came from above.
She did not press the attack. The cold blade hung at her side. The White Snake coiled around her arm, lowering its head, its crimson eyes watching its opponent.
Raven was hopping anxiously in the rest area. “Get up! Hurry up and get up!”
Its voice was loud, but Yuan Qing couldn’t hear it clearly. He could see Raven flapping its wings. He could see people in the stands standing up. He could see the distant lights swaying. But the sounds were far away. The world was separated from him by a layer of water.
The referee walked over and crouched beside him.
“Miss Mine, can you stand?”
Yuan Qing pushed himself up.
“Yes.” He rose slowly. When he stood straight, his body even swayed slightly.
The referee looked at Yuan Qing with some concern, but ultimately left the arena. It was professionalism.
And the instant the referee left the arena, Hifumi moved.
Hifumi took a step forward.
Blade light descended.
“Miss Kazama is about to deliver the final blow,” the commentator’s voice was soft, as if talking to himself.
“This slash, Miss Raven cannot block.”
No one contradicted the guest commentator.
Yuan Qing had promised himself he would win. But clearly, he was about to lose.
Where exactly did it go wrong?
He remembered his childhood. It wasn’t any special memory, just some vague and fragmented fragments.
The laughter of classmates in the classroom. The deliberately averted glances when passing in the hallway. The road home walked alone after school. He had never been the kind of person who desperately wanted something. Passing exams was enough. Eating until just full was enough. Living without starving to death was enough. Just muddling along.
Was it because of Raven? No, Raven now fully acknowledged his talent.
Was it because of Mine Mizuho? No, Mine Mizuho had now handed over her life to him.
And Sakuma Sundae? Shinohara Sachiko?
At this moment, he stood on this arena. Before him was only Kazama Hifumi, whom he could not defeat.
Yuan Qing attempted Feather Decomposition one last time. But once again, it was half a second too late. His body had just begun to transform into raven feathers when the cold blade entered the area from his left shoulder to his chest that had not yet fully decomposed.
It wasn’t a slash. It was a strike. The back of the blade, not the edge.
The White Snake coiled around the sword hilt, tightly controlling the angle and force.
Clang—
Raven feathers exploded.
Yuan Qing’s body was sent flying sideways by this blade strike, flipping twice in mid-air before crashing heavily to the ground. The black robe splayed open. Raven feathers scattered. His face pressed against the cold floor. He could see the lights of the distant spectator stands.
It hurt.
“Miss Mine, can you stand?”
Hifumi, the hand not holding the blade covering her face, let out a long sigh. “Haa…”
“Ten.
“Nine.
“Eight.”
“Miss Mine, is she going to fail like this?”
“It’s fine. She already fought very well. Even in defeat, it’s a glorious defeat.”
“Seven.
“Six.
“Five.”
“Get up! If you lose like this, you’ll lose my bet too!”
“Four.
“Three.
“Two.”
What exactly was lacking?
Go see for yourself.
“One. Time’s up. Third round, Kazama Hifumi, victory. Total score two to zero. The final victor is Kazama Hifumi!”
Sachiko silently began cleaning up the ashtray.
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