The clash of Jean's desperate charge, ending in a resounding sharp sound, was swiftly followed by the jarring sound of bone meeting flesh.
He reeled, a raw Aura blast erupting from his outstretched hand, meant to create distance, to give him a breath but the woman, a blur of dark navy, simply leaned into the force, her body absorbing the impact. She didn't block, didn't evade; she simply took it.
Her bare hand, deceptively graceful, whipped out, not delivering a punch but a precise, open-palmed strike to Jean's temple. The blow wasn't overtly powerful, but it sent a sickening jolt through his brain, disorienting him.
"You're wasting what little energy you have, butler," her voice resonated, devoid of effort, laced with a chilling amusement. Her movements were fluid, impossibly fast for someone not using a recognized Ascendant ability.
Blast!
Jean tried to counter, launching another raw Aura blast, a desperate volley of raw energy, but she sidestepped with effortless grace, then closed the distance in a blink. She wasn't just fast; she was inescapable.
Jean gritted his teeth, sweat stinging his eyes, mixing with the blood still trickling from his head. He tried to teleport, a desperate flicker of Aura around his body, but the familiar sensation of displacement was absent, replaced by the same heavy, unyielding resistance he'd felt earlier.
Her contracted ability, whatever demi-human entity she served, was truly Anti-Immunity and Absorbent. She wasn't immune to his attacks, not entirely, but she absorbed their force, dissipating it within her own being. It made her almost unkillable by conventional means.
This wasn't just bad luck; it was a cosmic joke at his expense. On top of that, her impossible strength and speed were a constant, crushing pressure.
He dodged, ducked, and parried, relying solely on his innate athleticism and years of training alongside Aira. He fired off Aura blasts that sent cracks through the walls, attempts to dislodge debris and create distractions, but she moved through the destruction like a ghost.
Every time he tried to use his Aura offensively, a faint, almost imperceptible shimmer would emanate from her, subtly weakening his output, making his blasts feel like weak gusts of wind rather than concussive forces. He was fighting a losing battle, his limited abilities being drained by an opponent who seemed to convert his own power into her resilience.
"Just surrender the boy, butler," her voice purred, closer now, her attacks relentless. She twisted, her pleated skirt flaring, and delivered a swift, brutal kick to his knee.
Jean roared, his leg buckling, sending him stumbling back. He crashed into the overturned dining table, shards of polished wood digging into his back.
Jean didn't give up. He pushed himself off the table, his bloodied hand clutching his throbbing knee. He would fight until his last breath. He had to. He risked a glance at the children.
Leo, watching the brutal, one-sided fight unfold, was a tableau of contained fury. Though he was still just thirteen, his understanding of the situation was terrifyingly clear. He saw Jean failing, saw the danger closing in. A silent rage simmered in his eyes, a desperate helplessness that threatened to boil over.
Leo knew, instinctively perhaps, that if he were to lose his cool, if he were to lose control of his own burgeoning Aura, he could end up killing everyone and destroying the guest house itself. He just stood still, a rigid sentinel protecting Priya, his small body vibrating with suppressed power, preparing to swing into action the moment Jean ran out of breath and that moment, Jean realized, looked to be happening anytime soon.
"A simple surrender, and perhaps you live," the woman goaded, circling him, her movements effortless, her unblemished face a picture of serene, deadly confidence.
Jean snarled, ignoring her words, ignoring the pain. He lunged, a desperate, final charge, aiming a wild, raw Aura-fueled punch but she was faster. Her hand moved with blurring speed, clamping onto his wrist, and with a casual twist, she sent a wave of excruciating pain up his arm, forcing him to his knees. The strength was impossible.
Jean finally knelt to the ground, panting, sweating, his body screaming in protest. Blood coated his face, dripped from his hair, painting grotesque patterns on the wooden floor. He looked up, defiance still burning in his eyes, even as his strength gave out. The woman stood before him, her silhouette framed against the shattered wall, her eyes, once merely cold, now filled with a chilling, murderous intent.
Apparently, her contracted ability or the demi-human she served had granted her not just anti-immunity and absorption, but also impossible strength and speed.
Encountering such a being in this isolated tower was pure, unadulterated bad luck for Jean.
She raised her hand, her movements deliberate, almost ceremonial, preparing to lay a deadly punch directly on Jean's face, a blow meant to end his resistance, to end him.
Priya, witnessing the impending, final strike, was already getting scared. Unlike Leo, whose burgeoning Aura seemed to contain his emotions, Priya's emotions were a raw, explosive force, tied to her nascent abilities. She couldn't hold it in any longer. Tears, hot and heavy, rolled down her cheeks, streaking through the dust and grime. The punch was just a breath away from Jean's face, a mere whisper of air from striking its deadly mark.
Tock!
Time paused.
Not just slowed, not just warped. Time itself froze, solidifying into an impossible stillness. The woman's fist, inches from Jean's shattered face, hung motionless in the air. The dust motes, caught in the faint moonlight filtering through the broken wall, became tiny, suspended stars.
Priya, a small figure of pure, raw grief and terror, had used her ability. She had done it knowingly, desperate to save Jean, but also unknowingly, unleashing a power beyond her current understanding.
She ran to the frozen Jean, her small hands clutching his bloodied form tight, crying profusely, her sobs echoing in the terrifying stillness of suspended time. What a night for such a sensitive girl, to be forced to wield such an overwhelming, reality-altering power. She could only pause time for a certain period, she knew, her young mind straining under the immense Aura drain.
With a shuddering gasp, she dispelled the paused time. The world rushed forward, but it wasn't a mere resumption. Like as if the very wind worked for her, the sudden release of compressed temporal energy, combined with her raw, untrained power, swung the woman against the nearest wall with immense, concussive force and dizzying speed.
The woman groaned, a sound of genuine shock and menace, as she slammed into the stone, leaving another deep crack in the already damaged wall. She stared at the small girl, her eyes narrowed in a cold, calculating gaze.
Such a girl possess such ability. The thought, or perhaps a telepathic echo of the Contractor's own surprise, hung heavy in the air.
Jean was also surprised, his eyes wide, as time surged forward. He felt the phantom impact of the punch he had been expecting, but it never came. Instead, Priya stumbled forward, already falling, and immediately collapsed into his arms. Her ability required a colossal amount of Aura, and she was still too young, too untrained, to cultivate such a vast reserve.
The raw exertion had completely overwhelmed her, and she slumped, unconscious and utterly drained.
A fainted child and a silent, delusory child – Leo, rigid and unmoving, still poised for a fight that hadn't come – left Jean feeling more hopeless than ever. He clutched Priya to him, a desperate, protective embrace.
The woman, groaning, slowly pushed herself off the wall. The wounds caused from Priya's sudden, explosive attack, visible only moments ago, began to heal at an alarming rate, flesh knitting, bruises fading under a subtle shimmer of Aura.
"Damn," Jean cursed under his breath, the word a raw, guttural expression of despair. The fight was far from over.