The clash of steel rang loud as the man pressed his relentless assault against Alfie. His single sword gleamed under the dim light breaking through the forest canopy, every swing sharp, precise, and suffocating. Alfie's blade was locked in defense, sparks flying whenever their weapons collided. Each strike forced him to use everything he had—every ounce of focus, reflex, and instinct.
The man suddenly shifted his rhythm. With a quick flick, he hurled his sword straight at Alfie's chest. The blade spun like a silver blur, deadly and swift. Alfie's heart jolted, but his reflexes saved him—he twisted his body at the last possible moment, narrowly dodging the lethal strike.
But the man was no ordinary opponent. He vaulted into the air, his movement sharp and clean, and with impeccable timing kicked the flying sword's hilt. The weapon curved mid-flight and shot back at Alfie like lightning. Alfie avoids the attack with sharp movement, the man had already landed behind him—catching the blade mid-air and resuming his flurry of attacks.
"His timing… his control—!" Alfie thought, gritting his teeth. He quickly reached for the scabbard strapped at his belt and yanked it free. With blade in one hand and scabbard in the other, Alfie began to counter, deflecting slashes and redirecting blows with dual precision.
The enemy's sword came whistling for his neck. Alfie bent low at the last second, the tip slicing the air where his head had been. His counter came instantly—he swept low with a powerful kick aimed at the man's leg. But the enemy was just as skilled. He caught himself with one hand, flipping his body and launching back to his feet in the same motion.
Once more, the two locked into a furious sword battle, the rhythm of their blades echoing across the trees. Steel on steel, sparks on sparks—neither side willing to give ground.
Elsewhere in the fray, Jackson fought with quiet intensity. His eyes remained calm, his blade steady. He moved with precision, analyzing his opponent's patterns, waiting for the smallest lapse to turn the tide. Even pressed by relentless strikes, Jackson's composure never wavered.
Lucy, meanwhile, was a storm of her own. She moved with unmatched ferocity, her blade flowing like water as she pressed their leader back. Every swing forced him to retreat, every strike unbalancing his stance. Finally, with a decisive twist, she knocked the sword from his hand, sending it spinning through the air before pointing her own blade at his throat.
"I… I back down," the leader muttered, his voice rough with disbelief. His pride seemed to crack as he barked the order, "All of you—back down!"
At once, the other men ceased their attacks and regrouped behind him, breathing hard. The tension shifted, the battlefield quieting in an uneasy truce.
"You're… such young talents," the leader admitted bitterly, his masked face turning toward Lucy and her companions. "I never expected to lose to kids like you. Not like this."
Lucy's blade did not waver as she narrowed her eyes. "Shut it, kiddo. What do you know about life?" Her voice was sharp, dismissive.
"You…" The man started to reply, but his words faltered. His hand curled into a fist, then loosened again. Lucy lowered her sword and sheathed it with a crisp motion.
The barrier faded away, her Art of Mojito dissolving into the air. With grim silence, the men turned and headed back the way they came.
"I will never forget this humiliation," the leader called over his shoulder. His tone was bitter, yet oddly respectful. "We will meet again, Lucy. I never expected to still be weaker than you in sword skill. And those young ones at your side… rare talents indeed. I can't expect less from you." His voice lingered as he disappeared into the distance with his companions.
(Though Lucy did not realize it, the man knew her. Even hidden behind his mask, his recognition for her was clear.)
Lucy exhaled softly and turned back to her group. "Nice job, all of you. Let's hit the road."
"That was a good warm-up for what's ahead," Sasaki added with a half-smirk. "I hope you all understand your abilities better now."
"Of course we do, Mr. Reaper," Alfie replied, a grin tugging at his lips despite his exhaustion.
Jackson slid his blade back into its scabbard, his eyes sharp. "Those men weren't fighting seriously. If you noticed, they avoided relying on their sword skills too much. They held back, dependent on their Renshi. If they had used it freely… that battle would have been far more dangerous."
Lucy gave him a glance, the faintest smile curving her lips. "Hmm… sharp analysis. Keep it up. Alfie needs someone like you at his side."
With that, the group returned to the road. Lucy summoned the horses once more, their forms shimmering out of her storage ring. They mounted swiftly, riding hard toward the kingdom exit. Hours passed in steady rhythm until finally the gates of the Kingdom of Meekness rose before them.
The kingdom gleamed under the evening light—streets paved with flawless stone, houses lit with Renshi electricity, lanterns glowing along every road. Shops lined the streets, their displays vibrant and full, while tall buildings stood proud with intricate designs.
This is a small kingdom known to many in this country because of it's natural meekness, Lucy breaks silence
"This place…" Alfie's eyes widened. "It's beautiful. Look at these streets, these buildings! How can you say this is a small kingdom?"
"I haven't seen a single Shinra since we entered," Jackson said thoughtfully. "Perhaps it truly is small, without their presence."
Alfie shook his head in disbelief. "Small? No way. Just look around—this place is thriving!"
Lucy's voice cut in, calm and precise. "like I said This is the Kingdom of Meekness. They rarely allow Shinras to enter, because they refuse to draw attention from the darkside spirits."
"Then how did they let us through the gates?" Jackson asked.
Lucy smirked faintly. "Don't you trust your master? I made concealing barriers around each of us. That large crystal you saw at the gate—it was a Renshi detector. If it had flared red, they would've thrown us out without hesitation. But you know how I do things. We get whatever we need, as long as it doesn't harm others."
Sasaki frowned, riding alongside her. "We should keep moving instead of stopping here. This detour is pointless."
"I'm not taking a break, you fool," Lucy snapped. "This is the quickest route to our destination."
"Then make yourself clear before dragging us through," Sasaki muttered.
Alfie sighed heavily. "Why do you two fight every chance you get? You're supposed to be grown-ups."
"One more word from you and I'll knock you off that horse," Sasaki growled.
"Faster, all of you—no slowing down," Lucy commanded. She spurred her horse into a stronger pace, the others following suit.
As they rode, Sasaki's voice cut through the wind. "Lucy, we still need answers. From somethings hope you know that ."
She didn't respond immediately, her gaze fixed forward. The silence stretched until, at last, after nearly two hours of relentless riding, they reached the back gate of the kingdom.
Without slowing, Lucy surged ahead and led them straight through.
"Hey! Stop right there!" the gatekeeper shouted, his voice echoing.
But Lucy didn't so much as glance back.
"Why didn't you stop for a search?" Sasaki demanded, irritation burning in his tone.
"You're asking too many questions, Sasaki," Lucy said coldly. "We don't have time for stop-and-search."
The group pressed on, riding hard into the distance.