The charged energy of the Void Piercer dissipated from Aryan's fingertips, the prepared attack dissolving back into his Qi reserves. He remained perfectly still, a statue carved by the ghostly blue light of the fungus, his mind a silent, furious engine of observation and analysis. The duel was over, but a new, more complex confrontation had just begun.
He watched the man named Dev move. It was a brutal, efficient dance of death. The Shadow Cat, crippled by the arrow and snarling in a mixture of pain and fury, was no match for the coordinated assault. Dev's twin short swords were not just weapons; they were extensions of his will. They moved in a fluid, blurring arc, one blade parrying the beast's desperate claw swipes while the other darted in, finding purchase.
Clang. Shhink.
The sound of steel on hardened shadow was sharp and grating, but Dev's blades were wreathed in a faint, silvery Qi that seemed to disrupt the cat's defensive ability. Where Aryan's simple sword had scraped, Dev's blades sank deep. He didn't aim for a single killing blow. Instead, he systematically severed tendons, crippled limbs, and opened deep wounds along the creature's flanks. It was the work of a methodical, professional butcher, designed to neutralize the threat with maximum efficiency and minimum risk.
The female archer, her bow held in a relaxed but ready state, did not move from her position. She was the anchor, the overwatch. Her gaze, sharp and focused, flickered between the dying beast and Aryan, assessing him with the same unnerving intensity she had shown the cat. She was the leader, the strategist. Dev was the weapon she wielded.
[New Data Acquired]. Subject Alpha (female, archer): 8th Layer of Qi Condensation Realm, possibly higher. Leader/Strategist. High Threat. Subject Beta (male, swordsman): 8th Layer of Qi Condensation Realm. Enforcer/Weapon. Moderate Threat. Synergy: High. Conclusion: Professional hunting pair. Direct conflict is suboptimal until more data is available.
The Shadow Cat's final, agonized shriek was cut short as Dev drove one of his swords deep into its eye socket, a flare of silver Qi scrambling its brain. The beast convulsed and went still, its shadowy form seeming to waver and lose its cohesion, becoming just a dead animal in a dark glade.
Silence returned to the clearing, broken only by Dev's heavy breathing as he pulled his blades back, wiping them clean on the creature's black fur. Only then did they both turn their full attention to Aryan.
The archer took a step forward, the pale blue light catching the silver leaf on her shoulder. Her mask hid her mouth and nose, but her eyes, a striking shade of deep jade, were cold and sharp.
"You have a name?" she asked. Her voice was crisp, devoid of any pleasantries. It was the voice of someone accustomed to being in command.
"Aryan," he replied, his own voice a calm monotone. He did not offer his family name. In the forest, lineage was a liability.
"Aryan," she repeated, tasting the name. "You're a long way from any city. What's a boy playing with a sword doing this deep in the forest?"
"Look at his hands, Leela. No calluses. This is no hunter; it's a young master who's strayed too far from his courtyard. He was about to be the meal, not the victor."