A dry laugh emerged from his opponent. 

"Very funny, kid." he shook his head in a gesture that seemed like a combination of mockery and pity.

"What's so funny about it?"

"Everything," he raised a finger to his masked lips, drawing a straight line on the white mask where engravings lay, "Lack of knowledge makes the ignorant proud. You should watch your words more."

Melchior frowned. "Am I supposed to care or fear you?"

A pregnant silence ensued before the person spoke next.

"Yes,"

Then they struck out. Melchior reacted just in time, having acclimated to the weird time stop. He threw his arms out in front of him in an 'x' position, blocking the weird fist. Spirit Energy surged through his veins like a steady stream, keeping his body resistant to the constant pressure crashing against him.

He reached for the weird feeling and swung an arm down in the only way he knew how. His whip-like arm came down on his opponent's shoulder, causing a faint crackle in the air.

'The muscle memory again?'

The thought came briefly, but he ignored it and lashed out for another strike. This time, he lunged out with a straight fist at the same spot. The attack connected and sent the masked man spiralling back a few metres.

That was the first punch he had ever thrown in his entire life. 

It felt amazing.

Melchior ran up to the masked opponent with a kick in tow. His leg cut through the air in a straight line, just about to connect with their torso. However, it stopped just there.

'Not again. How does he keep stopping time?'

Everything but his mind had stopped working. His eyes were still trained on the opponent, who wiped the dirt off their dark cloak.

"I hadn't expected you to get used to my ability," they shook their head, "I'm sure the Lieutenant would be quite interested in you, but my ability isn't something that a measly First Layer can deal with,"

Melchior grunted inwardly, unable to respond this time. The energy still flowed clearly inside his body, but it was like he had completely lost the ability to use it. It built up inside him, putting a strange pressure on all his organs at the same time.

"You can feel it, right? That build up within your body. That's what happens when your physical body stops while circulating Spirit Energy. It's especially more so dangerous when the circulation was meant to lead up to an attack. Suppose it was merely an augmentative flow. You'd have been fine, but it isn't."

He didn't say anything after that last part, but Melchior could already tell what the man was trying to imply.

'My body will implode from the massive buildup of energy,'

Well, that wasn't good. He tried to struggle out of the invisible shackles, but the buildup only quickened the harder he did so.

"Useless."

A fist crashed straight into his face and he regained animation once more. The boy was sent hurling backwards, back crashing straight into a large tree behind.

He had more or less figured out the mechanics of how the power worked. His body would remain suspended so long as the opponent didn't make physical contact with him. If he was fast enough, he could use that to his advantage. But otherwise, he was just a punching back for this asshole.

Melchior got to his feet, wiping the thin trail of blood dripping down the side of his mouth. As soon as he did so, he fell stiff and another attack came straight at him. This one was different, however.

His eyes darted around, trying to detect the cause of this change, when he noticed the shining silver blade his opponent held angled forward straight at him.

'Shit,'

The sword was a manifestation, much like Clyde's spear and Andy's large hammer. But it was far more different. Stronger. More real.

Multiple streaks of bright lightning crackled around the silver sword like little snakes. The air seemed to light up with the same enthusiasm.

Suddenly, it made sense. Lightning.

Still suspended and unable to move any further, the masked man moved.

The blade appeared between his eyebrows, ready to push through, and at that moment, a set of familiar flashing bright words pulsed brightly. 

[Warning: The next Death is IRREVERSIBLE!]

It was a timely wake-up call. His mind bounced back into action.

'Tirun!'

The simple call upon his attendant sent his energy spiralling. A dark halo surrounded him, laying stagnant in the air for a while, before exploding outwards. Melchior's muscles tightened as the cold energy washed over his body all at once. It was like pouring a bucket of water over just after waking up.

He could feel every single nerve within his body, ready to move now.

His instincts kicked into action, and without even trying to understand the power, he struck out, aura-coated arm grasping straight for the opponent.

The masked enemy froze, surprised by the new development. This allowed Mel's hand to grab his neck successfully. Melchior grinned, pulling down and driving his enemy's entire head into the ground below.

Since he used Tirun, something came back to mind.

He willed upon the aura, arm down, and mimicked his father's actions from earlier that day. As if on command, a dark suction force emerged from the ground, dragging and pulling the opponent's entire head straight into it.

It was a satisfying feeling. Even more so than the first punch.

Melchior kept the vortex operating, pulling his opponent straight down, eager to end it once and for all. 

But then he stopped….

Something shone from the corner of his eye. It wasn't attempting to stay hidden. It was quite an obvious threat to him.

He eyed the arrow tip emerging from the bushes and released his opponent's body.

Gust and wind gathered around the arrow tip in a telltale sign. A warning.

"Any more and you're dead," it seemed to say.

Mel begrudgingly disabled everything and took to his heels immediately. As he calmed down, the reality of the situation began to dawn on him.

'That was a close one. If I had decided to keep going, that arrow would have come knocking straight through my skull.'

But a weird feeling still itched at the back of his mind.

He kept heading straight towards the caves like he had planned to before. The feeling remained.

. . . .

*Briar*

Briar groaned as he helped Aster off the ground. The lieutenant would definitely not be happy about this.

He tucked the arrow into his quiver, then ran a hand through his dark green hair. He sat next to his collapsed companion and sighed.

"Who would have thought you of all people would get beaten by some random village kid?" he said with unveiled glee.

Aster gritted his teeth, then crawled up, clutching his white mask.

"The oh-so-mighty Killer Pause of the Ninth Divisio-"

"Shut the hell up," Aster interrupted. "Why did you let him go? I'll go finish him off now."

Briar paused to assess the situation. He felt an itch being scratched at seeing the state that this prick was in.

"Stay put. If you move even ten metres away from where I am, I'll report the entire situation to the general." He snorted. "I already have some men on it. The boy will be dead by morning,"

With that, he stopped paying any more mind to the man, despite feeling the dark stare bore straight into him.

'I'm not paid enough for this job'