The pause shattered around Ty in blue glass.
He swung before the pieces hit the floor.
Omina had aimed his elbow at the silver root feeding his breached ribs, and Ty followed the line as well as panic allowed. The sickle bit red beside silver, close enough to hurt, far enough to miss the part that mattered.
The first cut took the pain from his chest, and relief filled the gap so fast it felt like mercy.
The stolen body stepped into that relief and smiled.
"Thank you."
The silver root grew thicker.
Omina swore.
"You cut the pain feeding you. The claim stayed."
Ty dragged the blade back. "Again."
The body came low, throat still wrapped in Yun-Jin's bruised-violet bind. It moved like a fighter learning a new style mid-round, every joint loose, every stumble useful. Ty saw green under its knee and struck, sending the second cut through stance and balance.
The knee collapsed, and the body fell toward him.
That was the trick.
Its palm slapped Ty's ribs as it dropped.
