The silence between Mohit and the hooded boy stretched like a tight wire.
Neither moved.
The air around the abandoned storage building felt heavier, as if the world itself was holding its breath. The faint shimmer of spiritual energy twisted between them, reacting to two different wills pressing against the same space.
Mohit kept his eyes steady.
Don't rush. Observe first.
His opponent stood loosely, hands in his hoodie pockets, posture relaxed — too relaxed. But Mohit could sense controlled tension beneath that casual stance, like a coiled spring waiting to snap.
"You look nervous," the boy said lightly. "First time fighting someone awakened?"
Mohit didn't answer.
Talking wasted energy.
Instead, he shifted his weight slightly, grounding himself the way he had practiced during night cultivation. The warmth inside him responded slowly, flowing into his legs and tightening his muscles.
The boy clicked his tongue. "Silent type. Fine."
In the next instant, he moved.
Fast.
His body blurred forward, shoes scraping sharply against concrete. A fist shot toward Mohit's chest with explosive force.
Mohit barely had time to react.
He twisted sideways, letting the punch graze past his uniform. Wind pressure slammed into his ribs, knocking the breath from his lungs.
So fast…
Before Mohit could regain balance, the boy followed up with a sweeping kick.
Mohit jumped back, skidding across gravel.
Pain flared through his calf.
His reverse cultivation defect resisted his attempt to surge power, causing a brief internal blockage.
Damn it.
The boy laughed softly. "You're slow. If you can't handle this, walk away."
Mohit inhaled deeply.
He closed his eyes for a fraction of a second.
Instead of forcing power outward, he guided the warmth inward — stabilizing circulation, calming the chaotic flow. His heartbeat slowed. His vision sharpened.
Then he stepped forward.
This time, he didn't dodge.
When the boy threw another punch, Mohit intercepted it with his forearm.
Impact exploded.
A dull shock rippled through his bones, but he held.
Their fists locked mid-air.
For a split second, their eyes met.
The hooded boy's expression shifted — surprise flashing across his face.
"You adapted already?" he muttered.
Mohit pushed forward, channeling energy through his shoulder and twisting his hips.
The boy staggered backward two steps.
Mohit didn't chase blindly. He observed again.
The enemy's breathing had slightly changed.
Not tired… but cautious now.
The energy field around the convergence point behind them flickered violently, reacting to their clash.
Unstable.
If this continued, something unpredictable could happen.
Mohit clenched his fists.
If I can't overpower him… I'll outthink him.
He began circling slowly, forcing the boy to adjust position — gradually steering him closer to the unstable energy patch.
The hooded boy frowned. "Trying tricks?"
Mohit smirked faintly. "Maybe."
The boy charged again, annoyed.
Just as he stepped into the shimmering zone—
The ground vibrated.
A sudden surge of wild energy burst upward like invisible flames.
The hooded boy lost balance for half a second.
That was enough.
Mohit rushed forward and struck his shoulder with a focused burst of energy.
The boy crashed backward into the weeds.
Silence fell again.
Dust settled slowly.
Mohit stood panting, heart pounding violently.
He had won… barely.
But inside his body, the reverse cultivation defect stirred painfully — draining part of the energy he had just gained.
Victory came with a price.
From the ground, the hooded boy laughed weakly.
"…Not bad. What's your name?"
Mohit hesitated, then replied calmly, "Mohit."
The boy nodded. "Remember mine too. Kiran."
Two future rivals…
Or perhaps allies.
Only time would decide.