CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

For a moment, everything stood still, the forest holding its breath. Then, as if time had resumed its steady march, Tatsuya drew upon the currents that encircled him—ensuring he was quick to prevent interference from the other air elemental—and released it, forming a concentrated circular wave that rippled outward with incredible force in all directions. It expanded and collided with his opponents, throwing them back, their bodies tumbling in disarray and their cries carried away by the howling wind.

A reprieve momentarily provided, the attack dissipated, the gusts settling into a gentle breeze, and he groaned, dragging himself to his feet. His body throbbed with pain, every movement an arduous task, so he drew upon the currents again to help him up—and once he stood, as they struggled to regain their composure, disoriented and caught off guard, he seized the opportunity to retaliate.

Nothing mattered to him apart from the soft crunch underfoot as the distance between him and one of his opponents, a man, rapidly closed. He gracefully side-stepped a hasty attempt to trap him with the ground, ducked beneath a sloppy punch, and launched himself at the man. Tatsuya sought to use his opponent’s body as a foothold, thankful the earth elemental had broad shoulders (and a long neck) and used the momentum of his jump to lock his legs around said neck.

He wasted no time in shifting his weight and, in one fluid motion, leveraged his body to bring the man crashing to the ground. There was a moment of solid contact and a low groan before his legs came down on the neck in a brutal, fatal stomp, but he was already moving. Surrounded as he was, he couldn’t afford to stay in a position for too long.

However, in response to the death, individual yells of fury rose, and the arcane howls of elements sang in the thicket. Leaves tore or burnt with each impact, and wood splintered as he weaved away with his head bent, evading incoming attacks while launching precise counterattacks with gusts of wind or redirecting projectiles away from his person when he could.

Even in his less-than-ideal state, he moved with comparable swiftness, bending his knees slightly and kicking off towards a nearby tree just as an onslaught of ice swarmed his former spot.

The action displaced dirt from the ground, and a groan from his lips, but once bare feet slammed against its bark, he hauled his body up at an angle without a second thought, grabbing at a branch and wounding his hand around it tightly. He pushed his hips and swung forward, releasing his hands only when sufficient height was reached, even as the rough bark skinned his palms, and the branch snapped under his weight.

While airborne, whirlwinds formed at his fingertips, spinning with increasing intensity, and with a sweeping motion of his hand, he steered flames away from himself and back toward their source. Forced to dispel the attack, the woman could not stop him from striking out for her head, so his hand grasped it, and he allowed momentum to do the rest. A thud sounded as he landed in a tucked position, feet apart, while the woman’s head split immediately on contact with the ground.

Tatsuya straightened, turning towards the remaining three opponents—and preparing to use his element to discourage further attacks—only for that plan to be dashed and his eyes to widen as hovering inches from his face was an ice blade, calloused fingers wrapped around its hilt. However, rather than let the shock bow him over, he kept his heartbeat steady and kicked his awareness into overdrive; he noted the angle of the man’s elbow, the direction of the twist of his waist, the tension on the dorsal side of his palm, and deduced the likely target of the strike.

Taking half a step back, Tatsuya spun to the side just as the blade completed its journey. The sharp edge still managed to score a groove across his midsection, but it was shallow, and he used the burning pain as fuel to feed his follow-up attack, smashing into his opponent’s face with all the anger he could muster.

Two voices rose from behind so, as quick as he could, Tatsuya weaved through the desperate attempt to hit him with the weapons—as another ice blade was formed in the man’s other hand—and reached the man; in that fleeting moment as both blades were away from his person, he unleashed a devastating punch. Fist collided with an abdomen, a subtle crack resonating through the air, and his opponent was sent flying.

He watched the weapons, free from the man’s grasp, spin and make lazy arcs as they fell—but before they could clatter to the ground, free from the man’s grasp, his hands intercepted them, and his fingers closed around their smooth hilts. He continued his motion forward, generating a burst of air to cross the distance between them, and in perfect harmony of timing and coordination, he lightly landed on the man’s still-airborne body—just long enough to drive the blades’ wickedly sharp point hilt deep into his opponent’s eyes.

Tatsuya followed his makeshift ride down to the ground before quickly stepping off. It was only good instincts, experience, and hard-earned discipline that allowed him to keep his composure in the face of the near-continuous spit of projectiles and ragged curses that followed his third opponent’s death. His only saving grace was that they couldn't run and attack; due to the inherent risk of friendly fire and waste of the tactic, it was more effective to attack and scoot or attack and manoeuvre around him.

He redirected a wind slash, causing it to spiral into a miniature cyclone, momentarily stunning his remaining opponents. Utilising the disrupted element to his advantage, he struck back with speed, his fist and feet a blur of motion as he sought to incapacitate both at the same time.

This close to his opponents, the use of their elements was heavily discouraged. He barely gave them time to think, much less react, using his footwork and movement (in tandem with the currents) to constantly reposition himself, impede their efforts, and overwhelm them—a slight push to send the man stumbling into the woman; ducking under a punch meant for him so it hit the other; raising dirt with air to blind; striking their privates to incapacitate them—maintaining his composure, his focus unyielding, until they lay dead at his feet.

For a moment, as he stood amidst his fallen opponents, bruised, bleeding, and breathing heavily, the toll of the intense fight threatened to blow him over; the adrenaline that fueled his actions waned, and his body ached something fierce with every breath—then, he gradually became aware of the eerie silence that enveloped his surroundings.

Where once there were shouts, grunts, the clash of bodies, and the rhythmic pulse of the forces of nature occurring in the background—even if he didn’t pay attention to it, focused as he was on his fight—now, it was as if the world had held its breath, frozen in time, waiting for the chaos to resume or fade away entirely.

Neither happened.

Instead, stillness hung heavy in the air and, in the place of chaos, the bubbly feeling of satisfaction settled in his bones— after all, he had spent the past month training extensively; it was rewarding to witness the fruits of his labour first hand— even though he had to pay the price in blood again. It was necessary, he felt. Their goal clashed with his, so he had to do as he had done many times. In the end, all that mattered was that he was alive.

However, the absence of sound intensified the weight of the aftermath. The fallen bodies of his opponents, the fell tree, and the lingering tension all stood out in stark contrast against the backdrop of ambient sound: the soft rustle of leaves stirred by a gentle breeze, the distant hum of birds, or the muffled footsteps of distant animals. It created a haunting atmosphere, making it difficult for Tatsuya to shake off the sense of unease that settled within him, and so he steeled himself and pushed his body forward to face whatever awaited him beyond the forest and its unsettling stillness.