It would be about timing.
The chime sounded.
She vanished.
Leon barely saw the flicker before his instincts screamed. A whisper of wind grazed his left cheek—not even a cut, just the sensation of movement. He turned, Shell Reverb activating automatically, echoing her motion just enough to track.
And then—impact.
A strike to his midsection, impossibly fast, sent him skidding. Not deep damage—but he felt something terrifying.
She hadn't used Shell Pulse.
She hadn't used any magic.
She had simply moved.
He adjusted instantly, engaging Absolute Return to reflect the next three strikes, but even that wasn't enough. She was moving faster than reflection. Faster than prediction.
Leon narrowed his stance.
Then let's change the tempo.
He exhaled, drawing on Gold Magic—not to destroy, but to enchant his perception. Golden threads wove across his irises, bending time slightly, syncing to his Shell Pulse.
