Temporal Dominion

The atmosphere in the dueling arena had shifted.

Moments ago, everyone had expected Lucian to crumble in the first exchange.

But now?

Now, Ethan had taken a hit.

The murmurs of the spectators grew louder, disbelief spreading through the crowd like wildfire.

Ethan steadied himself, his fingers flexing at his sides. His usual cocky smirk had vanished, replaced by something colder. His gaze locked onto Lucian, analyzing him.

"…You dodged."

Lucian didn't answer.

Truthfully, he wasn't entirely sure how he had done it.

When Ethan attacked, Lucian had felt a strange pull in his mind, like a faint echo of what was about to happen. His body had reacted on instinct, moving before his conscious mind fully processed it.

And that moment—that instant of clarity—was the difference between taking a hit and striking back.

Ethan exhaled sharply.

"Alright. Guess you're not completely useless." He rolled his shoulders, shaking off the surprise. "Let's see if you can keep up."

Then—he moved.

Lucian's breath hitched.

Ethan blurred forward, his body flickering out of focus for a fraction of a second before appearing at Lucian's flank, already mid-strike. His speed was faster than before.

Lucian barely had time to react—

No.

Not barely.

Time slowed.

The world around him became muffled, as if submerged underwater.

He saw Ethan's punch coming—not just where it was, but where it would be.

Lucian's body twisted out of the way, the punch grazing his shirt but missing his ribs.

Then—he countered.

He struck forward, aiming a precise palm strike toward Ethan's exposed shoulder.

But Ethan wasn't just strong—he was experienced.

The moment Lucian moved, Ethan twisted, catching Lucian's wrist in a vice grip.

"Nice try."

Lucian's eyes widened.

Ethan yanked him forward, lifting his knee and burying it into Lucian's stomach.

The force sent shockwaves through Lucian's body. His breath hitched—pain exploded in his core—

Then he saw it.

A flicker. A glimpse.

A vision of himself collapsing to the ground.

No.

Lucian clenched his jaw.

The future wasn't set in stone.

He refused to let this happen.

The moment Ethan released his grip, Lucian twisted his body, rolling backward with the force of the blow instead of resisting it. He landed in a crouch, panting, his fingers digging into the stone floor of the arena.

The crowd gasped.

He should have fallen.

He should have been sprawled out, dazed, vulnerable.

But Lucian was still standing.

Ethan frowned.

"…You're annoying."

Lucian wiped the sweat from his forehead.

He wasn't winning.

Not yet.

But for the first time in his life—

He wasn't losing, either.

And that was enough.

For now.