Sunny had done it. He had dismantled Dire Fang's astonishing battle style, and peered into the very essence of it. The core of the Saint's combat technique was laid bare, with all its components — the body, the mind, and the soul — revealed to Sunny with stark clarity.
With that knowledge, he could predict what Dire Fang would do.
He could even perform some of the same things despite the difference in their Aspects and physiques.
And armed with that understanding, Sunny finally realized…
That there was no way for them to win. The fearsome Saint was just too powerful, skilled, and intelligent. He held the outcome of the battle in a firm grasp, biding his time until the perfect opportunity inevitably presented itself.
And their own strength was not enough to change that outcome.
Even if Sunny knew that a strike was coming, he would not necessarily be fast enough to dodge it. Even if he knew the enemy's intent, he would not be strong enough to survive it.
And neither would Nephis.
At least if their level of strength, already unthinkable for mere Masters, remained the same.
...But it did not have to, did it?
[Do you trust me?]
'What a loaded question.'
Sunny had his reasons, but it was true that he had gone against Neph's wishes in pretty much every instance where it mattered. He had abandoned her in the Dark City, refused to leave her in the Crimson Spire, and then fled from her again at the grand ball of Clan Valor.
Just to end up by her side anyway.
It was a bit funny, and a bit sad, but most of all… Sunny wasn't sure if she did actually trust him. He wasn't even sure if he himself would have trusted him.
The same was true the other way around.
And yet, as far as he could see, that was their only chance to emerge from this fight alive. If he could only prove to her somehow that…
[I do.]
...What?
The calm answer came almost instantly.
It startled him.
'Huh…'
Sunny dashed away to avoid being caught in the Saint's maw, dove under lightning-fast claws, and barely managed to get out of the way of a stream of billowing white flame that covered his retreat.
'Well. That makes things easier.'
He called upon a certain Memory, and sent Nephis a short thought:
[Then, in about five seconds… give it all to me…]
Five seconds was the amount of time needed for the Memory to manifest itself. It was not a very large amount of time.
Of course, it was not the smartest of tactics — by making one of them exceedingly strong while leaving the other one weak, they were giving Dire Fang a perfect opportunity to get rid of the weaker enemy first, and then deal with the other one without being encumbered by the numerical disadvantage.
But that was only true if the Saint survived long enough to figure out what happened.
Sunny was not planning on giving him such a chance.
He had to finish this fight in one exchange.
'So… I don't just need to kill a Saint, I also need to kill him with one strike… well, isn't it wonderful…'
There was no more time to think.
Only to kill.
Sunny cleared his mind of all unnecessary thoughts, except for one — a axiom he knew too well.
'The essence… of combat… is murder.'
He was going to murder Saint Dire Fang, the vassal of the great clan Song, right here and now.
There was no doubt or hesitation, no room for failure. Only certainty.
The terrifying, towering beast in front of him opened his maw, ready to let out a deafening roar.
Feeling the polished ivory of the Bone Singer manifest itself into his hand, Sunny flooded his body with smoldering essence, and lunged forward.
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