The assassin moved first, quick enough that the fight changed shape before the roof had finished creaking under their weight.
He slid across the slanted tiles and slipped into [Shade Skip], his body smearing into a dark blur before reappearing near a chimney with one knife already cutting toward Trafalgar's ribs and the second waiting lower for the follow-up.
Trafalgar turned with Maledicta in time to keep the first strike shallow, but the poison had already dirtied the rhythm inside his body. His strength was still there. It simply no longer rose as cleanly as it should have, and against a man who fought like this, that fraction had teeth.
Steel scraped across steel in a tight burst of sparks. The assassin did not linger in the clash for even a breath. He slipped out, cut again, changed angle, and came in low with the kind of work that had nothing to do with pride and everything to do with killing efficiently.
