Lindarion ducked.
Not dramatically. Not desperate.
Just a slight lean at the waist.
Valen's punch soared past his temple.
The air hissed.
Lindarion yawned.
Literally.
Then planted a single palm into Valen's chest and pushed.
Not with magic. Not with lightning or divine mana.
Just force.
Valen stumbled back four full steps and barely kept from falling.
The crowd was no longer silent.
"What is he doing?"
"Is this a joke?"
"Doesn't look like he's even trying—"
Valen growled, already charging again.
He dropped low, skidding over the dirt with flame-coated boots, fists glowing orange.
Lindarion raised an eyebrow. 'Fine.'
He stepped forward.
Then vanished.
Not with a spell. Not with chant.
Just speed.
Lightning flashed underfoot, fast and quiet, then he was behind Valen, a hand on the back of his neck.
Valen froze.
"You shouldn't drop your weight like that when you don't know my rhythm," Lindarion said casually, his breath just above Valen's ear.
