To everyone's shock, Smith moved first.
There was no signal, no shared glance, no final agreement. One moment the tension held them frozen in place—and the next, he shattered it.
He lunged straight at Toki.
His steps were uneven, cutting sharp angles through the broken ground as he zigzagged forward, forcing unpredictability into every movement. It wasn't speed alone—Smith knew better than that. Against something like Toki, speed meant nothing if it was readable.
So he made himself impossible to read.
"Aren't you out of your mind, old man?!" Bernard shouted from behind, his voice cracking between anger and disbelief. "Weren't we supposed to have a plan?!"
Smith didn't look back.
"To hell with that!" he barked, voice cutting through the air like a blade. "Forget everything I taught you—just try not to die!"
A blur rushed past Bernard's shoulder.
"You heard him!" Harold called out, forcing a grin that didn't reach his eyes. "Looks like we've got the day off!"
Ozvold followed immediately after, like a performer stepping onto a stage he already knew would kill him.
"We must respect our superior's orders," he said quietly, almost mockingly, as he passed Bernard.
Bernard exhaled sharply, gripping his sword tighter as frustration burned in his chest.
"And here I thought I was supposed to be the reckless one…" His voice dropped, gaze locking onto the blood-soaked figure ahead. "…of course… that was before you… Toki."
Toki moved,he bent forward suddenly, surging toward Smith with terrifying speed. His arm shot forward, fingers clawed, aiming straight for Smith's head with enough force to crush bone like glass.
Smith pivoted on his heel.
The attack passed inches from his face, close enough for him to feel the wind pressure scrape across his skin.
He drove his blade forward.
The sword pierced through Toki's abdomen cleanly, the resistance almost nonexistent as steel slid through flesh. The tip burst out from Toki's back in a spray of blood.
For a fraction of a second, everything seemed to freeze,then Smith pulled....or at least, he tried to,the blade didn't move.
Toki's hand had reached behind him, fingers wrapping around the exposed tip of the sword, gripping it tightly—so tightly that the metal groaned under the pressure.
Smith's eyes narrowed,he didn't hesitate.
His free hand came up instantly, fist tightening as he drove a punch straight into Toki's face. The impact landed cleanly, knuckles sinking into blood-slick flesh with a dull, heavy crack.
Toki's head snapped back slightly,just one step.....that was all.
Toki's arm rose again.
CRACK.
His elbow slammed into the blade.
The sword shattered,exploding into dozens of jagged fragments that scattered across the ground with sharp metallic echoes.
Smith didn't have time to process it.
Toki's arm came down.
Smith raised his guard instinctively, crossing both forearms in front of his face just as the blow connected.
The impact was monstrous.
Bone snapped instantly under the force, a sickening crack ripping through both arms as the shockwave traveled through his body. His vision blurred white for a split second before the world slammed back into him.
His body flew backward several meters, crashing into the broken stone and skidding violently across the ground before coming to a stop.
Two shadows dropped from above.
Harold and Ozvold.
They came from opposite sides, their movements perfectly timed despite the chaos, both driving their knees toward Toki—one aiming for the skull, the other for the liver.
It should have worked but Toki caught both of them.
His hands shot out faster than their descent, grabbing each of their knees mid-air with crushing precision. His grip tightened instantly.
Bone began to crack.
A deep, splintering sound echoed as their joints buckled under the force, pain exploding through both of them at once.
Ozvold's breath hitched sharply.
Harold let out a choked gasp.
Toki slammed Ozvold down first.
The impact shattered the ground beneath him, stone breaking apart as his body was driven into it with brutal force. Before the debris had even settled, Toki swung Harold down on top of him, their bodies colliding in a violent heap of broken stone.
Toki raised his arm like a hammer preparing to fall.
Bernard's kick connected with the side of Toki's head with explosive force.
The strike came out of nowhere, fast and precise, his entire body behind it. The blow snapped Toki's head sideways and sent him sliding across the ground, carving a shallow trench through dust and broken stone before finally stopping.
Bernard didn't waste a second.
He grabbed Ozvold by the arm, hauling him up with force before doing the same for Harold.
"If you stay down, you die," he said sharply, voice cutting through their daze.
Ozvold coughed, a faint, strained chuckle escaping him despite the pain.
"…I wouldn't have seen that coming… if I hadn't been slammed like a rat into the ground…"
Smith staggered back toward them, his arms hanging , already swelling.
"I'm glad you can still joke…" he muttered, breath uneven, "…in times like these."
Bernard's eyes flicked toward Toki, who was already pushing himself back up.
"We're not doing well," he said bluntly. "And he doesn't even look tired."
Smith's gaze hardened.
"…We still have one chance."
They looked at him.
"There's still a piece of my blade lodged inside him," Smith continued, his voice steadier now despite everything. "If we can pull it out… he might bleed out before he can keep up with the regeneration."
Harold let out a weak, humorless laugh.
"…That sounds a lot easier than it is."
Toki stood fully ,then he bent down, scooping a handful of dust from the shattered ground and threw it upward.
The wind caught it instantly, spreading it into a dense cloud that swallowed the battlefield in seconds. Visibility dropped to almost nothing, the air thick with fine particles that burned the throat and eyes.
Ozvold coughed violently.
"What the hell is this—?!"
Smith's expression changed.
"DOWN!"
A sonic boom tore through the air a fraction of a second later, the dust cloud exploding outward as Toki shot through it like a projectile.
He passed between them and something came with him....a wet tearing sound.
Harold staggered.
For a brief second, he didn't understand what had happened.
Then his body caught up.
Blood erupted from the right side of his torso, spraying outward in a violent arc. Flesh was gone—ripped clean away. His ribs were exposed, slick with blood, fragments of muscle hanging loose around the wound.
He collapsed instantly.
Bernard was already moving,he tore off his uniform without hesitation, wrapping it tightly around the wound, pressing hard to slow the bleeding.
"Stay with me!" he barked, though Harold's eyes were already unfocused.
He had passed out.
Behind them—Toki stood still chewing the piece of flesh that disappeared into his mouth in a single bite, swallowed without effort.
Smith's voice cut through the moment.
"Take him and move!"
Bernard hesitated.
"I said MOVE!"
"…Damn it…"
Bernard lifted Harold onto his shoulder, jaw clenched tight as he turned away, every instinct screaming at him to stay—but the weight of his brother's body forced the decision.
Smith's voice dropped, quieter now.
"Ozvold… with me."
Ozvold nodded once.
Smith moved at the exact moment Ozvold dropped low, their bodies crossing paths with the kind of instinct that only came from surviving too many battles together. There was no signal, no coordination spoken aloud, yet everything aligned for a single opening.
Smith launched himself forward while Ozvold slid beneath the line of attack, removing himself from Toki's range and creating just enough space. Ozvold's arm snapped upward and the sword left his hand in a clean arc. Smith caught it mid-motion without looking, his grip tightening as he twisted on landing and drove the blade toward Toki's neck.
The strike should have ended it.
Toki moved just enough.
His head tilted slightly, almost unnaturally, and the blade that should have severed his throat only grazed his cheek. Flesh split, blood traced down his face, but there was no reaction.
His arm moved immediately after.
The backhand hit Smith with overwhelming force, folding his body mid-air before launching him across the broken ground. Stone cracked under the impact as he skidded to a halt.
But he didn't stop.
Even as his body slid, Smith threw the sword behind him . Ozvold was already there. He caught it and stepped forward in the same motion, driving the blade toward Toki's abdomen with everything he had left.
The hit connected—but not cleanly.
Toki bent forward at the last moment, shifting the angle so the blade buried itself into his shoulder instead of his core. Steel ground against bone as it lodged deep.
Ozvold didn't hesitate. He adjusted his grip, trying to force it deeper.
Toki's fist came down.
Ozvold dropped instantly, the strike passing over him, the pressure alone shaking his balance. He released the sword and grabbed Toki's arm, twisting into a perfect joint lock.
For a moment, it worked.
The angle was correct. The pressure was exact. Bone began to crack under the strain.
"Stay… down…" Ozvold forced out, pushing with everything he had left.
But Toki didn't resist.
The tension broke instantly. Ozvold's grip failed, and before he could recover, Toki seized him and slammed him into the ground. The impact shattered stone and knocked the air out of him completely.
His body went limp.
Smith was already moving again.
His arms were broken, his body barely holding together, but something deeper pushed him forward. He closed the distance and drove his fist into Toki's abdomen, forcing the embedded blade deeper inside.
Blood spilled instantly.
He struck again.
And again.
Each punch landed with raw force, tearing his own skin apart as much as it damaged Toki. His knuckles split, bone grinding under repeated impact, but he didn't stop.
He couldn't.
His breathing became uneven, his vision narrowing as the world around him faded. The rhythm of his strikes became mechanical.
For a moment, he wasn't here anymore.
He was back in the training camp.
Pain. Repetition. Survival.
He understood one thing clearly.
If he stopped, he would die.
Toki stepped back.
Just a small shift, but enough to break the rhythm.
Smith reacted instantly, planting his foot and bracing for a low strike.
But Toki didn't follow expectation.
His leg rose higher and higher,jumping off Smith's knee.
The motion shattered Smith's read completely. Toki cleared his guard and rotated mid-air, compressing all his force into a single strike.
Smith saw it.
"…Technique… power… and intent…" he whispered faintly. "…the perfect strike…"
It landed.
The impact drove Smith straight into the ground, stone cracking beneath him as if it couldn't hold the force. The air was knocked out of his lungs instantly, leaving him empty and wide-eyed for a split second before pain followed.
His body didn't bounce or slide at first—it just sank, like the ground had decided to swallow him. Then the shock hit fully, spreading through his ribs, his spine, his arms, all at once, until everything blurred into a single heavy sensation.
For a moment, he couldn't move.
Couldn't breathe.
Could only register one clear thought before everything started to fade—
"…Heh…" a weak breath escaped him. "Back then… I didn't die… because I cheated…"
Darkness crept in.
"…guess I don't get that luxury now…so this is… defeat…"
And then he lost consciousness.
Toki turned,his gaze locked onto Bernard.
Behind him, the noblewomen stood frozen, Harold lying unconscious across Melissa's lap, blood soaking through the cloth wrapped around his torso.
Bernard's hands trembled.
A sharp slap snapped his head to the side.
"Don't you dare cry, you idiot," Elizabeth said, her voice shaking but firm.
Bernard blinked, then slowly smiled. He reached up and took her hand, his grip gentle despite everything around them. He pulled her closer and kissed her, brief but deliberate.
"I know I've said this too many times," he said quietly, "but I need you to do one more thing."
"I'll hold him here," Bernard continued, his gaze shifting back to Toki. "You gather whoever's left and leave the capital."
Bernard stepped forward.
Toki didn't move.
He simply watched.
Bernard drew his sword slowly, the sound cutting through the air. He looked at it for a moment, then placed it against his knee and snapped it in half.
The crack echoed across the ruins.
Elizabeth's voice trembled. "A man who breaks his sword… doesn't plan to come back alive!"
Bernard let the pieces fall.
"I love you," he said simply. "I've said it so many times that I started believing maybe if I repeated it enough, it would become real."
His eyes remained forward.
"My friend is waiting for me."
A brief pause.
"Goodbye, Elizabeth Silas."