The fight between the two boys had reached a point where neither could find an easy opening.

There wasn’t a single punch or kick Desmond threw that Ezra failed to deal with.

Standing firmly on the uneven forest ground, Ezra calmly guided every attack away using the principles of Tai Chi. His movements were smooth and connected, flowing naturally from one defense into the next before turning into a counterattack. There was no wasted motion.

Every shift of his feet, every turn of his waist, and every movement of his hands blended together as though they were part of a single continuous action.

Desmond rushed in again.

His fist tore through the air, aiming straight for Ezra’s face with enough force to split apart another tree if it missed.

Ezra didn’t retreat.

Instead, he raised the palm of his left hand.

His hand met Desmond’s wrist just before the punch reached him.

Rather than trying to stop the overwhelming force head-on, Ezra gently redirected it to the side.

The heavy punch slipped past his cheek.

At almost the same instant...

Ezra’s right fist shot forward.

The counterattack came without warning, aiming directly at Desmond’s chest.

Desmond’s reaction was just as fast.

His opposite elbow swung across his body.

Bam!

The hard elbow struck Ezra’s fist, knocking it away before the punch could land.

Neither of them paused.

The moment his punch was diverted...

Ezra’s right foot slid forward.

His boot stepped firmly onto Desmond’s own boot, trying to pin him in place and force him into close-range combat where Ezra’s flowing combinations could become even more dangerous.

Desmond immediately sensed the intention.

He stepped backward.

Once.

Then another step.

Yet Ezra followed him effortlessly.

Every time Desmond created space, Ezra’s feet glided forward with the same rhythm, refusing to let the distance widen.

Seeing the opportunity...

Ezra suddenly lifted his right leg.

His hips rotated sharply.

A powerful side kick burst toward Desmond’s face.

The kick was fast and clean.

Desmond crossed his forearm to block.

Thud!

The impact forced his arm backward.

Almost immediately, Desmond reached forward, trying to grab Ezra’s extended leg.

But Ezra was already moving.

His kicking leg folded back before Desmond’s fingers could close around it.

Without allowing himself to lose balance...

Ezra shifted his weight onto his right foot.

His left leg instantly fired out.

Another side kick.

The second attack came so quickly that it almost looked like the continuation of the first.

This time...

It caught Desmond by surprise again.

Even so...

His combat instincts remained excellent.

He raised his other arm in time.

Bang!

The kick slammed into his forearm.

At the same time...

His hand successfully grabbed Ezra’s leg.

A grin slowly spread across Desmond’s face.

Finally,

He had been waiting for exactly this moment.

As long as he caught Ezra...

The flow of those endless combinations would end.

Or so he believed.

Suddenly...

Bam!

Ezra’s body spun.

Using the captured leg as the center of his rotation, he raised his free leg high into the air.

Before Desmond could react...

A spinning side kick crashed directly into his cheek.

The sharp impact echoed across the forest.

Desmond’s head snapped violently to the side.

His grip loosened for just a moment.

A trace of surprise flashed across his face.

It was already the third time Ezra had broken through his expectations with another seamless sequence of attacks.

Yet...

The surprises weren’t over.

The instant Desmond forced his head back into position...

Ezra had already moved again.

His body seemed to float lightly from the ground.

He rotated through the air.

Then...

A perfect roundhouse kick swept across.

Bang!

Ezra’s boot slammed into Desmond’s face once more.

This time, the impact forced Desmond several steps sideways before he finally regained his balance.

He instinctively placed a hand over his nose.

Blood slowly trickled between his fingers.

He blew out a mouthful of blood before straightening his nose with a quick adjustment.

Crack.

Without even giving himself another second...

Desmond lunged forward again.

He had already learned one thing.

Allowing Ezra to continue chaining attacks together was dangerous.

The moment Ezra established his rhythm...

The pressure only kept increasing.

So instead of waiting...

Desmond chose to attack first.

His recovery speed caught Ezra slightly off guard.

For the briefest moment...

Even Ezra’s dull eyes revealed a hint of surprise.

The scene reminded him of another battle.

Veda.

Against Vera.

The final battle during the Trial of Steel.

Veda had shown the same frightening resilience.

No matter how many clean hits Vera landed...

He always recovered almost immediately.

The memory disappeared as quickly as it came.

Desmond was already in front of him.

Ezra immediately raised his knee.

The sharp strike aimed directly beneath Desmond’s chin.

Desmond blocked it with his right forearm.

Before Ezra could pull back...

Desmond’s left arm wrapped tightly around his body.

However...

Instead of throwing Ezra forward...

Or slamming him sideways...

Desmond suddenly spun.

Using the momentum created by his own rotation, he attempted to hurl Ezra away.

The surrounding trees blurred from the sudden motion.

Ezra felt his feet leave the ground.

Even while being thrown...

He calmly adjusted his posture in midair.

Rather than crashing awkwardly...

He landed on one shoulder before rolling across the soft forest soil.

The roll absorbed most of the impact.

Almost immediately...

He pushed himself back onto his feet.

Without wasting time...

Ezra sidestepped several paces.

At nearly the same instant...

Desmond’s Shaolin kick swept through the exact place where Ezra had been standing.

The powerful kick sliced through empty air.

Desmond smoothly shifted his footing after landing.

He didn’t hesitate.

His fists immediately surged forward.

One punch.

Then another.

Then another.

Each strike carried tremendous weight.

Ezra met them calmly.

Instead of clashing directly...

He redirected every punch with the smallest possible movement.

The first strike slipped away.

The second...

Changed direction completely.

Boom!

Desmond’s own punch smashed into the trunk of a massive tree.

The thick trunk exploded apart under the overwhelming force.

Splinters flew across the battlefield.

The upper half of the tree slowly leaned before crashing onto the forest floor.

Another punch came.

A heavy left hook.

It rushed toward Ezra’s temple.

Ezra calmly bent his body.

The fist swept just above his head.

The powerful wind pressure stirred his black hair as the attack narrowly missed him.

At that precise instant...

Ezra stepped inward.

His right hand reached beneath Desmond’s raised arm.

His fingers firmly gripped the area beneath Desmond’s left armpit.

Before Desmond could react...

Ezra’s left hand grabbed Desmond’s wrist.

With one smooth motion...

He twisted the arm while sliding behind Desmond’s back, attempting to lock the joint.

Desmond’s body immediately lowered.

Rather than struggling against the hold...

He threw himself directly onto the ground.

Using the roll to escape the joint lock, he smoothly returned to his feet.

The two separated once again.

Immediately...

Bang!

Bang!

Clank!

Clank!

Desmond spun around.

A Reaper Staff appeared in his hands, after taking it out from his space bag.

The spinning black steel shaft intercepted two incoming bullets from Ezra’s Kel-Tec PMR-30, knocking them away with showers of sparks.

The echoes faded.

Silence briefly returned to the battlefield.

The two boys stared at one another.

Both breathed steadily.

Neither looked away.

Neither relaxed.

Every muscle remained ready for the next exchange.

"What are you doing, Ezra...?"

Desmond finally broke the silence.

His playful smile had disappeared.

"You still haven’t shown your real strength."

His voice remained calm.

"I could say the same about you."

Ezra answered flatly.

The black steel Kel-Tec PMR-30 remained aimed directly at Desmond’s face.

Thin wisps of smoke slowly drifted from the muzzle.

Neither of them moved.

For several quiet seconds...

Only the sound of the wind passing through the broken trees could be heard.

Then...

White Cognis erupted around Ezra.

At the same time...

Crimson Cognis burst from Desmond.

Powerful pressure spread across the surrounding forest.

White lightning-like streams of Cognis danced around Ezra’s body.

Crimson streaks flickered around Desmond.

The broken leaves covering the ground rose into the air.

Dust circled around both boys as the pressure continued increasing.

For the first time...

Both of them openly allowed the other to sense the level of Alchemist they had been hiding until now.

The atmosphere immediately grew heavier.

Then...

Just as suddenly...

The pressure disappeared.

Both boys withdrew the surge of Cognis.

Ezra’s eyes shifted toward the nearby forest.

Four figures slowly stepped out from between the trees.

Desmond lowered his Reaper Staff.

"I wanted to see how you’d deal with this annoying fly."

Prince Tristin spoke as he walked at the front of the group.

His posture remained elegant despite the ruined battlefield.

Behind him...

Felix kept both hands inside his pockets.

Basil walked with his arms folded confidently across his chest.

Gareth silently observed the broken forest and the destruction left behind by Ezra and Desmond’s battle.

"You guys were watching?"

Desmond asked with an amused smile.

"I know..."

Felix looked at Desmond with an accusing expression before letting out a helpless sigh.

"You already knew where we were, so stop pretending to be surprised."

"Hehe."

Desmond simply laughed.

There wasn’t the slightest hint of embarrassment on his face.

The playful grin he wore made it obvious he had never intended to hide it in the first place.

"But seriously..."

Basil’s eyes shifted toward Ezra.

He pointed at him with an unconvinced look.

"Does this trash really fight on Desmond’s level?"

Disbelief filled his voice.

He had watched the battle from beginning to end, yet he still found it difficult to accept what he had seen.

Desmond wasn’t just another talented student.

Among their group, his close-combat ability was second to none.

Yet Ezra had exchanged punches and kicks with him without falling behind.

Not once.

Ezra narrowed his eyes slightly.

His Kel-Tec PMR-30 remained steadily aimed at Desmond’s forehead.

Even though Desmond had already lowered his Reaper Staff...

Ezra hadn’t lowered his guard.

His attention wasn’t focused on one person anymore.

Instead...

His mind quietly analyzed everyone standing before him.

Prince Tristin.

Basil.

Felix.

Gareth.

Desmond.

Five opponents.

Every one of them possessed strength far beyond the average academy student.

The battlefield became unusually quiet.

Only the breeze blowing through the broken trees disturbed the silence.

Basil noticed Ezra’s handgun hadn’t moved even an inch.

His expression immediately darkened.

"Lowline..."

His cold voice broke the silence.

"Lower your weapon."

The command carried the tone of someone giving an order instead of making a request.

His finger remained pointed directly at Ezra.

However...

Ezra acted as though Basil didn’t exist.

He didn’t even spare him a glance.

His thoughts were already moving elsewhere.

If the fight starts now...

His dull black eyes calmly observed each member of the group.

Taking down the fat one...

And Felix...

Shouldn’t take long.

Although, Felix definitely has to go first.

He’s excellent at supporting close-combat fighters.

If he coordinates his long-range accuracy with the others... he’ll become more troublesome than any other person here.

Ezra silently memorized every detail.

The Prince...

And the fat one...

I still don’t know enough about their Alchemy Paths.

Just like Desmond...

I’m only beginning to understand that Blood Alchemy Path.

His gaze shifted toward Gareth.

Gareth is dangerous.

But manageable...

If it’s one-on-one.

Especially if I can openly use assault rifles.

His thoughts continued without interruption.

The surrounding pressure, Basil’s orders, and Prince Tristin’s presence failed to disturb his concentration.

Right now...

The only thing I’m certain of...

Is that Desmond is the strongest among them.

His black eyes slowly swept across the four boys standing behind Desmond before returning to the crimson-eyed young man.

Every detail entered his memory.

Their posture.

Their breathing.

Their weapons.

The distance between each of them.

Possible attack routes.

Possible escape routes.

Even the broken terrain around them became part of his calculations.

"I’M TALKING TO YOU, LOWLINE!"

Basil suddenly roared.

His patience had completely run out.

"ARE YOU DEAF?!"

His voice echoed throughout the forest.

Yet...

Ezra remained completely indifferent.

His expression didn’t change.

His breathing stayed steady.

It was as if Basil’s angry shouting had blended into the background with the wind.

Seeing that reaction...

Basil’s face darkened even further.

The veins on his forehead became visible.

"Don’t waste your saliva on him, Basil."

Felix spoke calmly, his hands still resting inside his pockets.

His expression barely changed.

"That’s simply the kind of bastard he is."

A faint smile appeared on Desmond’s face.

He didn’t deny Felix’s words.

In fact...

He found them strangely accurate.

"That’s exactly why..."

Basil clenched his fists.

"...someone needs to teach him a lesson."

"But first."

Prince Tristin calmly interrupted him.

He stepped forward.

Each step carried the natural confidence of someone born into royalty.

Although there was no deliberate display of force...

The dignity of a Prince of Britannia naturally radiated from his posture.

His neatly pressed academy uniform remained almost untouched despite the long examination.

His golden eyes rested quietly on Ezra.

"What..."

His calm voice spread across the silent battlefield.

"...is your relationship with Vera Ashenlocke?"

He paused briefly before adding one final word.

"...Lowline."

His tone remained composed.

Yet everyone present could hear the authority hidden beneath those simple words.

Ezra quietly looked back at him.

Hmm...

So that’s it.

His thoughts quickly connected several pieces together.

I have been getting the feeling, his eyes have been onme this entire time...

So it’s because of Vera.

He silently stored the information away.

Even now...

His face remained as expressionless as ever.

"We’re business partners."

Ezra finally answered.

His voice remained plain.

Without respect.

Without provocation.

Simply stating what he believed to be the truth.

The unexpected answer caused Prince Tristin and Basil to blink almost simultaneously.

"...Business partners?"

The two repeated inwardly.

Unlike them...

Felix, Gareth, and Desmond showed almost no reaction.

Felix had already expected Ezra to answer in his own strange way.

Although he hadn’t guessed the exact words...

He wasn’t surprised.

Gareth simply watched quietly.

As for Desmond...

He couldn’t care less about whatever relationship existed between Ezra and Vera.

It wasn’t his concern.

"Business..."

Prince Tristin slowly raised a hand to his forehead.

He rubbed his temple while exhaling softly.

"...Partners?"

For the first time...

A trace of irritation appeared on the prince’s face.

"Wait."

He lowered his hand before extending a finger toward Ezra.

"How dare a Lowline speak to me in that tone?"

His eyes narrowed.

The calmness in his voice became noticeably colder.

"And you’d better tell me the truth."

His gaze never left Ezra’s face.

"The only reason I’m being this lenient... is because you’ve become rather popular within the royal and noble circle."

He gave a small shrug before a mocking smile appeared.

"I have no interest in hurting the person who designed a vehicle I happen to like."

He paused.

"Even if... you’re no longer its owner."

The smile on his face became slightly more sarcastic.

"I honestly don’t understand why people still insist on calling you the creator of the Phantom Rolls... when you’ve already lost that right."

He clicked his tongue in annoyance, then his eyes sharpened once again.

"So..."

He spoke more firmly this time.

"Tell me. What exactly is your relationship with Vera Ashenlocke?"

Silence followed.

Ezra narrowed his eyes slightly.

He could clearly feel it now.

A faint wave of Cognis slowly flowed from Prince Tristin’s body.

It wasn’t enough to attack.

It wasn’t even enough to pressure an ordinary Binder Alchemist.

Its purpose was obvious.

Intimidation.

A quiet reminder of the difference between a prince...

And a Lowline noble member of a Duke House.

Unfortunately for Tristin...

It achieved nothing.

Ezra’s expression remained unchanged.

His grip on the Kel-Tec PMR-30 never loosened.

"Didn’t Your Highness hear the news?"

Ezra asked in the same plain tone.

"The firearms Vera Ashenlocke created... were developed with my help. That’s the business partnership I’m referring to..."

He looked directly into Prince Tristin’s eyes.

Neither fearful.

Nor arrogant.

Simply indifferent.

"...Your Highness."

The faint pressure from Tristin’s Cognis continued spreading across the battlefield.

Yet Ezra stood there without the slightest sign of being affected, his dull black eyes calmly meeting the prince’s gaze as though the invisible pressure surrounding him simply didn’t exist.