John blinked at her several times as he slowly drew his punch daggers back out and moved forward. John’s mouth was set, his brows knitted together in a cautious manner, a stark contrast to his usual sneer, as if he were facing an apparition.

Bringing his fists up, she watched his body begin to vibrate and hum once more as he engaged his Tremor Sense.

Leta took a deep breath and ran her tongue over the back of her teeth.

Letting him get close enough to stab her again so she could return the favor wasn’t exactly a plan.

‘I need leverage.’ But how to get it?

Her agility was her saving grace before and had made up for her inexperience, but with his Tremor Sense activated, she’d lost that advantage.

‘Can I use the static to augment my speed?’ She paused the question to her hive mind.

[Negative.] Gada responded, [Static electricity does not provide a consistent or effective means for velocity. Simply creating a spark would not generate enough energy to create a propulsion effect.]

‘So, no thunder feet then.’ She nodded to herself as John and she began to circle each other, both waiting for the other to make a move first.

‘Or is it?’ An idea started to take shape in her mind as she suddenly remembered a device her mother had been forced to wear after an accident at one of her excavation sites. She’d been bedridden for some time, and the device would stimulate her legs with electricity to prevent muscle atrophy.

‘Tremor Sense is able to pick up minute vibrations even in one’s muscles, which is how he’s been accurately predicting my movements. What is muscle vibration if not the flex and flow of electricity between as our muscles contract?’

Perhaps the key to ending this wasn’t about enhancing her speed, but removing the Tremor Sense advantage he possessed?

As John’s fist lashed out at her, Leta brought her dagger up to parry while focusing on drawing her static electricity inward and letting the streams of protons and electrons course through her. A shiver went up her spine as she ducked out of the way of his oncoming attack. Though her physical form was accustomed to the surrounding static, having it inside her bouncing around her organs was an off-putting sensation that made her skin pepper with gooseflesh, as if something were literally crawling inside of her.

Nevertheless, the effect was almost immediate.

She could see John’s expression shift to confusion as their blades danced around them, their bodies twisting about almost as if they were in a macabre dance.

Where previously muscle contractions manifested as bright flashes of white and gold in John’s vision, Leta now seemed to him like a being constructed entirely of incandescent light. Every action she took left a trail of echoing static in its wake until he was blind to any action she took.

She glowed like a sun in a human shape and he instinctively flinched away as the electricity beneath her skin overloaded his Tremor Sense and made his eyes water and ache, disorienting him better than any flash-bang ever could.

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It was the break she’d been waiting for.

‘Now!’ Leta ducked low around his blind jab, pushing his oncoming arm out of the way with her right arm, using the full force of her Atlanite-enhanced forearms while slashing upwards with her left and catching the bottom of John’s chin.

He let loose an angry hiss as crimson blood misted the surrounding air. His blades instinctively punched downward, but Leta had already twisted out of his attack lines. Like a coiling snake, she danced low and to the side of his staggering figure, her reverse-gripped daggers sliced through the seams of his armor just behind his knees and into his tendons before spinning around to his other side.

John cursed between gritted teeth as his legs gave way under him. He caught himself with his hand as he wildly slashed about, one squinting eye trying to glimpse her through the haze her static had rendered his Tremor Sense, but she was already at his back.

Flipping her dagger back into a hammer grip with her right hand, she slipped it between his ribs and slashing arm to slice through the seam at his armpit, landing the crucial blow she’d been hoping for.

The artery she’d targeted was severed, blood pouring out in a torrent. John’s cry of pain resembled that of a wounded animal as he fell to the ground, desperately trying to hold the wound together by pressing his arm to his rib.

The brawler was full of piss and vinegar from before was gone. Only a mass of shivering flesh and useless limbs bleeding out onto the cold stone floor remained.

A hush had fallen over the crowd as they’d witnessed the white-haired beauty heal herself, then quickly and effectively take down one of the strongest among them, their mouths hanging open as they witnessed her with equal parts fear and awe.

Leta paid them no mind and let her static return to its regular movement encompassing her body.

There was no reason to keep it contained.

His wide eyes and chattering lips made it clear the fight was over.

“John Downing, do you yield?” Leta spoke slowly and evenly, as if she were physically holding his face so that he couldn’t look away.

He took three gasping breaths like a fish out of water as blood collected around him, his wide eyes staring up at her as if he saw death itself before giving her a shaky but firm nod.

Her blue eyes darted up to De Mar, who looked to be just as shocked as the rest of the onlookers.

“He yields.” She announced, “Call the duel, De Mar.”

Snapping out of his daze, the Judge pointed a flat hand at her. “Her Majesty, Oletta Black is the victor.”

The terms of the contract have been fulfilled. Limitations are now removed.]

Leta breathed a sigh of relief as her muted senses returned to normal. For a moment, she closed her eyes, savoring the feeling of her restored skills, as if her limitations were unnatural.

As her eyes opened, her swirling gaze turned to two of John’s Sect, the dark-haired lackey from earlier and a young man that looked to be her age, approaching with lowered heads as if to retrieve their fallen comrade or offer medical attention.

“Hold.” Leta raised her hand, and the pair froze mid-stride, their cautious gazes looking up at her through the fringe of their eyelashes.

“Your Majesty,” the young man broached, “A major artery in John’s arm has been severed, which is bleeding at an extreme rate and compromising his ability to breathe. If he does not receive medical attention soon, he can bleed to death before his Arisen healing can be effective. I am a healer. Please, let me help him.”

Leta gave him a sad smile.

This boy-doctor looked like he wasn’t old enough to order a beer back in America, yet he didn’t hesitate when faced with a much larger man bleeding out in front of him.

“There’s no need.” She said calmly before kneeling down to look at John, who was truly in danger of passing out from blood loss at this point. The crimson tide of blood, once a torrent, now trickled slowly, but its red path was creeping closer to her dust-caked boots.

With her hand resting on his head, she held his gaze as power welled in her chest, and her static formed a corona of light behind her head like a celestial being.

“I Command you to heal, John Downing.” The words that rumbled from her throat were raw and layered as if a hundred voices were speaking through her.

Snaps of electricity crackled the air as her Command seeped into his pores, a slight moan pushing from between his gritted teeth as his body forced itself to comply.

His arms and legs twitched involuntarily as nerve endings and blood vessels that had been severed before reconnected.

After several moments, John took a deep, calm breath as Leta felt her body tense to imitate the command she’d given.