Chapter 45 - Not Just His Fight Anymore

The pressure didn't stay stable after that. It tried to, for a second, like it was forcing everything back into control, but it couldn't hold it the same way anymore. Not with something else in the field. Riven felt the difference instantly. The resistance in front of him didn't match perfectly now. It lagged just a fraction, like its attention had split. That was enough. He stepped forward again, smoother this time, not forcing it, just moving through the slight imbalance like it had always been there. Behind him, the presence that had appeared didn't rush in either. It didn't need to. One of them let out a small breath, almost amused. "So this is what's been messing with the flow." Another voice followed, calm but sharper. "It's not part of any system I've seen." Riven didn't turn fully, but he spoke anyway. "Don't expect it to follow rules." A faint pause came from behind, then a quiet scoff. "Good. That makes it interesting." The space tightened again, reacting to them now, not just him, but it wasn't clean anymore. The pressure pushed forward in layers instead of one perfect control, like it was trying to handle too many variables at once. The unseen presence spoke again, its tone no longer calm. "…foreign variables detected." The first voice behind Riven laughed lightly. "Yeah, that's us." Riven exhaled slowly, eyes still locked ahead. "Don't get in the way." "Same to you," the sharper voice replied. That was enough. No introductions, no explanations. They didn't need it. The moment settled for less than a second, and then everything moved again. The pressure surged, not just toward Riven this time, but outward, trying to push all of them back at once, reclaim control of the entire space. It hit fast and hard, compressing the air like it wanted to crush everything inside it, but it didn't land clean. One of the figures behind Riven stepped forward slightly, and the force bent around him instead of hitting directly, like it had been redirected without effort. "Too obvious," he said quietly. Riven didn't waste that moment. The instant the pressure shifted away from perfect alignment, he moved, closing distance again, not toward Lanks, not toward the field, but toward that same invisible point he had been tracking since before. The presence reacted, faster this time, trying to pull back, to widen the space again, but it couldn't do it cleanly. Not anymore. The second figure moved as well, not chasing, not attacking wildly, just stepping into the field in a way that disrupted the space further, like he understood instinctively how to break its rhythm. "…you're interfering too much," the voice snapped. "Yeah," he replied flatly, "that's the idea." Riven slipped through another tightening gap, the resistance weaker now, inconsistent. Every time it tried to lock him down, something else shifted it just enough for him to pass. Not by overpowering it. By breaking its focus. Lanks watched from behind, breathing still uneven but steady now, his eyes no longer clouded, just wide with realization. "…he's not doing this alone anymore…" he muttered. Riven was already in position again. Close. Close enough to feel that thin layer of distortion where the presence tried to stay untouchable. His aura tightened, not flaring wildly, just sharpening into something precise. "You can't manage all of us," he said quietly. The space trembled in response. Not violently. But noticeably. The control was slipping. The unseen presence shifted again, trying to isolate him, to push everything else away and lock back onto a single target, but the moment it did, the others moved, forcing it to readjust again. Too many angles. Too many points. Too many variables. Riven saw the opening the second it formed. No hesitation. No buildup. He stepped in and struck again, clean and direct, aiming for that same exact point where everything overlapped just a little too much. The impact landed deeper than before. The air folded sharply, like something stretched too far had finally been hit at its weakest point. This time, the reaction didn't stay controlled at all. The pressure broke outward in uneven waves, the entire field shaking as the presence lost its perfect hold for more than just a second. Lanks stumbled back slightly, catching himself as the last of that influence around him thinned even more. "…it's breaking apart…" he said quietly. Riven lowered his hand, breathing steady, eyes still forward. "Not yet," he replied. Because even now, it wasn't gone. It was still there, just pulled back again, thinner, more cautious. But different now. Not confident. Not untouchable. Careful. Behind him, one of the figures let out a low whistle. "So that's what you've been dealing with." The other one didn't speak, but the shift in the air around him said enough. They understood it now. Riven adjusted his stance again, calmer, more certain. "It's not unbeatable," he said. A small pause followed, then a faint smirk in the first voice. "Good. I'd be disappointed if it was." The space tightened again, slower this time, like it was testing whether it could regain control without overcommitting. But it didn't feel the same anymore. It didn't feel absolute. Riven took another step forward, and this time, nothing stopped him immediately. He glanced ahead, eyes sharp, locked on that fading but still present distortion. "You can hide," he muttered under his breath, "but you already showed yourself." The pressure didn't respond right away. It just stayed there, watching again. Waiting. But now it wasn't alone in that. And for the first time since the fight began, it wasn't the one in control of the pace anymore.