Chapter 42: End of season market ( 6 )

"Wait, you—" Thomas was already diving forward when a card slapped flat against his face. He peeled it off and caught sight of both girls hiding behind Felix.

Felix rolled his shoulders once, arms loose at his sides. "Dune, pay attention. Lesson time."

Thomas spat and charged, knife carving a wide arc through the air. Felix stepped back half a pace, letting it whistle past his chest. "When you see a man come at you swinging like this, don’t panic. Watch what his body’s doing and move with it, not against it."

Thomas stumbled forward from the missed swing and threw a wild left hook. Felix turned into it, letting the fist sail past his cheek by an inch.

"When a man punches without thinking, grab the arm, use his own momentum against him."

He caught Thomas’s wrist, hooked a hand around his waist, and flipped him flat onto the ground. He looked down at him groaning in the dirt and kicked the fallen knife well out of reach.

"And always, always disarm them after."

He ducked low the next instant, two swords slicing through the space his head had just occupied. The two men wielding the swords froze for half a beat, clearly not expecting that reaction speed.

"Take out the strongest one first, and the rest tend to charge in blind, right when you’re not looking."

He rose fast, grabbed both men by the back of the skull, and cracked their heads together.

"Then the last one usually shows himself."

He seized one dazed man by the shoulder and spun him around bodily, a human shield against the third.

The last man, knife raised, stopped cold.

"Using a hostage never works as well as people think."

Felix shoved the dazed man forward into him. The knife-wielder scrambled back to keep his footing. Felix circled sideways, watching him switch the knife hand to hand, eyes never leaving Felix’s movements.

"Watch for the one who doesn’t look scared. He’s always the group’s wild card."

The man lunged, knife driving for Felix’s chest. Felix caught the wrist an inch from contact. The blade dipped low from man’s grip, caught it with his free hand, and slashed upward. Felix leaned back just enough that the tip only caught fabric then dropped low and swept a wide kick that sent the man staggering backward. Felix planted his foot and surged forward.

"Always look for the mistake. No one is perfect."

He closed the last of the distance, card raised inches from the man’s throat. He caught the knife hand at the wrist. Heat bled off the man’s skin, Numen rising fast, his mouth split open, and fire spilled out in a wide arc a meter across before it died just as fast.

"Underestimating your opponent’s the fastest way to lose." Felix dropped low, swept both ankles out from under him, and drove him down into the dirt as he fell, catching him across the neck on the way. The man’s eyes rolled, vision already going.

"Felix!" Dune’s voice cut through.

Felix scooped the fallen knife off the ground and hurled it back. "Not over yet. The boss never actually got started."

Thomas deflected it with a forearm hardened under a layer of packed soil, already sprinting, fist cocked and ready. Felix cut sideways to meet him, dropped low at the last second, and slid clean between his legs, springing back up on the other side before Thomas had even finished turning around.

"Save the surprise attacks for someone who can’t see them coming." Felix set his boot firm and drove a fist straight into Thomas’s stomach. The man barely staggered.

Second impact.

The compressed Numen detonated inside Thomas, his inside shook, eyes rolling white as his knees buckled and he dropped.

Felix yanked his own hand back. "Ow, ow, ow." He shook it out, staring at the tremor still running through his fingers.

"I barely put any Numen into that." He turned and started walking back toward the girls, rubbing his wrist. "So. Did either of you catch any of that?"

Diana broke into applause. "Very good. Very fast."

Hakimi crossed both forearms and caught Regnault’s punch dead-on, blue electricity surging through the contact and dropping him two steps back before he shook it off.

The way Felix was fighting just now—

"Don’t get distracted mid-fight." Regnault threw a follow-up straight at his face. Hakimi dropped under it and drove a fist hard into his stomach, the impact folding Regnault backward across the grass.

And this guy.

Hakimi glanced at his own fingertips, a faint current still crawling across the skin.

His electricity is interfering with my Numen. I can’t concentrate.

Regnault spat blood, wiped his mouth, breathing ragged, sweat beading at his temple. "Enough playing around."

He drew his sword with both hands, leveling it forward. "Draw yours. Let’s finish this properly."

Hakimi stayed calm, hands folding behind his back. I’m only left with raw instinct.

He exhaled, released the Numen already circulating through his body, and shut his core off from refilling it. His eyes sharpened. "I don’t need a sword to end this."

"You’ll regret that." Electricity crawled up the blade, sparked briefly across Regnault’s boots, and he closed the distance in a single burst, sword already mid-swing by the time he arrived.

Fast.

Hakimi twisted right at the last possible second, letting it pass. Regnault reversed the motion, slashing left, then right, and Hakimi shifted his footing with each strike, eyes locked on the blade, dodging clean every time.

Regnault stepped back and thrust straight for his face. Hakimi tilted his head aside, the edge grazing loose strands of his hair, and as Regnault yanked the blade back, it caught, wedged solid between two of Hakimi’s fingers.

Hakimi’s other hand closed into a fist and drove for his skull. Regnault blocked it with his forearm.

"Weak," Regnault said.

Regnault tried to grab the hand, but Hakimi let go of the sword and ducked low. Regnault was already braced for the counter, swinging the blade upward from the ground, but Hakimi had already stepped back and flipped forward, a kick crashing down onto his shoulder and driving him to his knees.

Hakimi followed with another strike. Regnault’s hands came up fast to block it, and the next kick swung around from his right and caught him full across the face, slamming him flat onto the ground. He gripped his sword hilt tight, trying to bring it up. A kick knocked it clean out of his grip and sent it spinning off across the grass. Hakimi’s shadow fell over him as he stepped down onto both of Regnault’s palms, pinning him flat.

Regnault smirked and grabbed for his boots instead, a jolt of current firing straight up through them into Hakimi’s legs. Hakimi didn’t move. His expression stayed exactly as it had been, untouched.

Regnault’s face went pale. "How?"

Hakimi’s right leg lifted off his hand and swung toward his throat.

"STOP!"

He froze mid-motion, leg still raised. "Lady Diana."

"He’s finished. You don’t need to kill him." She approached, breathing uneven.

Hakimi looked down at Regnault. "Do you accept your defeat?"

Regnault scoffed, turning his head away, eyes catching on his fallen sword. "I do."

Hakimi stepped off him, back at full pace. "Don’t come near us again."

"I will." Regnault shouted after him, already scrambling for his blade. "Mark my words. One day I’ll make you actually draw that sword."

Diana reached over and lightly brushed his hand before pulling back. "Oh, no shock this time."

"His technique was decent, but not refined." Hakimi kept his voice level. "And you shouldn’t run off on your own like that. It could’ve gone far worse if I hadn’t found you when I did."

"But you did, though." Diana wrapped both arms around his. "And honestly, more fun than the market was."

"Yeah, no." His attention drifted past her, toward Felix and Dune still talking a few feet away. "Trash insect. I’ve got a question for you."

Felix’s head snapped up. "Should I even bother answering?"

Hakimi crossed the distance anyway. "Where’d you learn to fight?"

"You liked the show?" Felix grinned. "Course you did. Sorry to say, I don’t take on students."

"I’m not asking to become your disciple. Those men were weak." Hakimi said flatly.

"If they were so weak, why’d it take you forever to beat just one of them?" Felix made a show of thinking it over. "Strange. Kind of makes you weak too, then."

"I’m not weak, trash. That one was just stronger than the rest you fought through." Hakimi didn’t blink. "And I know exactly what you were doing back there. Showing off. You had no real intention of teaching anyone."

"What?" Felix glanced sideways. "I wasn’t showing off."

"The cat’s getting away." Diana cut in suddenly.

"Where?" Felix’s head whipped around, catching sight of it darting toward the street. "Doesn’t matter now."

"We’re not going after our gold?" Dune asked.

"We are." Felix pulled the loose red thread from his pocket, calm now. "This is how we track it down." He closed his eyes, feeding a thin thread of Numen into the string.

"Same thread that was tied to its leg." Hakimi plucked it straight out of his hand.

"Hey, what are you doing?" Felix rounded on him, annoyed.

"Just give me a second." Hakimi closed his fist around it, held it a beat, then opened his palm again. "I know exactly where it’s headed."

"Thanks, Nanny." Felix snatched it back. "So do I."