The air itself seemed to shatter as the man, that was roasting the fish called Zion, crossed the distance between them in less than a blink. Ren's enhanced reflexes barely gave him time to react—his black blade materialized just in time to catch the curved dagger aimed for his jugular. The collision sent a shockwave through the beach, kicking up a ring of sand around their locked weapons.
Zion's eyes burned with cold calculation. No wasted movements. No hesitation. His free hand shot forward in a knife-hand strike that should have crushed Ren's windpipe. But Ren's exoskeleton flared to life, reinforcing his neck muscles just enough to turn what would have been a killing blow into merely a brutal impact. He staggered back, tasting blood.
"You're fast," Zion admitted, circling like a shark. "But speed means nothing if you can't land a hit."
He attacked again—this time with a flurry of strikes so rapid they seemed to come from all directions at once. Dagger slashes aimed at arteries. Hammer fists targeting pressure points. Knee strikes designed to shatter femurs. Ren's world narrowed to pure defense, his black blade moving in desperate arcs to intercept each killing blow.
Then Zion changed tactics.
A feint left. A sudden twist. His foot lashed out in a sweeping kick that connected with Ren's knee. The joint screamed in protest—even reinforced by his exoskeleton, the impact nearly buckled his leg. Ren gritted his teeth as Zion pressed the advantage, driving an elbow toward his temple.
But Ren had been waiting for this.
He let his body go limp, dropping beneath the elbow strike. At the same time, his exoskeleton pulsed, flooding his muscles with explosive power. His uppercut caught Zion clean under the chin, lifting the man clean off his feet.
Zion flipped midair, landing in a crouch. A thin trickle of blood ran from his split lip. For the first time, something like respect flickered in his eyes.
"Good," he spat. "Now we fight for real."
The next exchange happened too fast for normal eyes to follow. Zion abandoned all pretense of defense, attacking with a series of brutal, efficient motions designed to overwhelm Ren's enhanced durability. His dagger found flesh—a shallow cut along Ren's ribs, a deeper gash across his thigh.
Ren could feel his exoskeleton straining at the edges, the artificial enhancement pushed to its limits. But he noticed something—with each attack, Zion left the smallest openings. Microseconds of recovery time between strikes.
He just needed to survive long enough to exploit one.
Zion came in for another flurry. Ren took a dagger slash across his shoulder—a wound that would have severed an arm without his enhancements—and in that moment, as Zion's arm extended just a fraction too far...
Ren struck.
His black blade flashed upward in a perfect arc. Zion twisted at the last possible instant, but not enough. The sword bit deep into his side, carving through muscle and glancing off bone.
Zion staggered back, one hand pressed to the gushing wound. His breathing came ragged now, his movements slightly slower.
Ren didn't give him time to recover.
He charged forward, every ounce of his enhanced strength propelling him like a bullet. Zion barely managed to raise his dagger in defense before Ren's fist plowed into his sternum with the force of a wrecking ball. Bones cracked. Zion's feet left the ground.
The final blow came as Zion hit the sand—Ren's black blade plunging downward like a guillotine.
Zion's dagger intercepted it at the last moment, but the force drove the blade through his guard and into his chest. The beach fell silent save for the wet, choking sound of Zion trying to breathe around the steel in his lungs.
Ren leaned down, his own blood dripping onto Zion's face.
"Speed matters," he whispered, "when you make it count."
With one final twist of the blade, it was over.
**[You have killed Mortal Rank Level 4 Human +720 EXP.]**
The system message flashed before Ren's eyes as he collapsed to his knees, his enhancements finally giving out:
**[10 teleported.]**
**[5 remaining.]**
He had won.