[Scene: Ryven's Ship | Deck — Within the Nullwake Field]
Kael's breath came in shallow bursts. He rolled beneath another sweeping dagger strike, shoulder scraping wood. Blood dripped from his arm where a graze had opened.
Rhask grunted beside him, pushing off a masked assassin. His sword clashed with another dagger mid-air, knocking it off course. But even that effort took something from him.
The Nullwake Field was brutal.
Kael stumbled back, barely dodging a slash.
"Can't keep this up," he muttered.
The masked attackers moved. Faster. Precise. Cold. They had no emotion. No fear. Dolls, as the Silver-haired had called them.
Kael pivoted, kicking a masked one's thigh. It didn't flinch. Didn't bleed.
"Zombies..."
Rhask slammed one against the mast, growling.
Kael ducked just in time as another dagger shot past his ear. Then—BANG.
A sharp crack.
The third masked figure had drawn a small firearm.
Bullets zipped through the air. Kael yelped, diving to the side. One scraped his leg. Another grazed Rhask's hip.
They were too slow.
Too drained.
But Kael didn't hesitate. He surged forward, took the hit to the shoulder, and kicked — hard.
The gun spun from the masked attacker's hand.
Kael followed through, slamming his foot into the figure's chest. The doll went flying, barreling straight toward Silver-Hair — the man orchestrating it all.
Another masked figure blurred in and caught the flying one mid-air. Flipped. Landed. Set him down.
Silver-Hair didn't move. Didn't blink. Didn't even look annoyed.
Kael cursed.
He turned to Rhask.
Kael (panting):
"I'm nearing my limit, Rhask."
Rhask wiped blood from his lip. His armor was torn, streaked with crimson. He didn't deny it.
Rhask:
"Same here."
Their eyes locked. Both knew they couldn't last much longer.
Then they both glanced toward Silver-Hair — who still stood untouched.
Arms crossed.
Smiling faintly.
Relaxed.
Kael gritted his teeth. Rhask's gaze sharpened.
Two dolls charged again.
With daggers.
Kael and Rhask split.
CLANG. Kael blocked the first dagger. Swung. Forced it away. Rhask stepped into a low crouch, deflecting the second.
His eyes flicked — not to the doll, but to the faint shimmer around Silver-Hair's ankle.
Something clicked.
Rhask:
"I think I might've a plan."
[Scene: Sea Level — Solis vs Ryven]
Solis's blade struck with fury.
Each arc was louder, sharper. Water exploded beneath their feet, but Solis barely noticed the sea now. Only Ryven.
Only that damn sword.
Ryven parried with surgical calm. He stepped, shifted, deflected.
Never attacked.
Just blocked.
Solis pushed harder. Sweat flew from his brow.
He spun, twisted, flipped — raining down strike after strike.
CLANG! SHHHHRACK! CLANG!
But each time, Ryven's sword held firm — absorbing force without even humming.
Ryven finally spoke.
Ryven:
"You know why I haven't been attacking, don't you?"
Solis, panting, wiped his forehead.
Solis:
"Yeah. 'Cause you're a wimp."
He smirked. But barely.
Then Ryven moved differently.
Solis lunged again — reckless, desperate.
But Ryven didn't parry.
He punched.
A straight fist to Solis's chest. Not magical. Just brutal. Solis flew back, skidding over the surface of the sea.
Ryven took a slow breath, then raised his sword, pointing the flat side to the sky.
Ryven:
"This blade — it's enchanted. A magic item."
He flipped it casually in his grip.
Ryven:
"If I were using any normal sword, I'd have lost ten minutes ago. But this one — it absorbs pressure. Stores it."
Solis's eyes widened.
(Solis, internal) "That explains it. Every strike felt like I was hitting a mountain."
Ryven's eyes gleamed.
He lifted the blade higher.
Ryven:
"It's full. It can't absorb any more."
He smiled.
Ryven:
"Time to give you your attacks back — with interest."
The blade flashed. Wind warped around it. Mana pulsed from the hilt outward.
Solis steadied his feet. His body ached.
But his eyes burned with challenge