“I’ll see this till the end.”

  The moment the words left his soul—

  Samye’s eyes opened.

  He was back on the battlefield.

  Rain still falling.

  Mud still beneath him.

  The enemy’s hand still descending toward his skull—

  But something was different.

  The rain… wasn’t falling normally.

  Each drop hung in the air.

  Moving.

  But slowly.

  Painfully slowly.

  The enemy’s crushing telekinetic force was inches away from him—

  Yet it felt distant.

  For the first time in his life—

  Samye truly felt it.

  Time was not against him.

  Time was with him.

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  His vision sharpened.

  His eyes shone — not wildly — but steadily.

  Calm.

  Focused.

  The world wasn’t frozen.

  It was slowed.

  Obedient.

  He rose smoothly.

  No panic.

  No rush.

  The enemy’s expression was still mid-smirk, unaware.

  Samye whispered quietly—

  “Secret Arts… Second Form.”

  “Enhancement.”

  This time, it did not tear at his body.

  It flowed.

  Controlled.

  He stepped forward within the slowed world.

  Rain parted around him.

  He positioned his spear precisely—

  And drove it through the enemy’s arm.

  Clean.

  Deliberate.

  Then he stepped back.

  Released control.

  Time snapped back to normal speed.

  Thunder roared.

  The enemy screamed.

  His arm exploded with blood as the spear tore through muscle and bone.

  He staggered backward in shock.

  “How—?!” he gasped.

  A second ago, Samye had been unconscious on the ground.

  Now—

  He stood upright.

  Unshaken.

  The enemy scanned frantically.

  “I saw you fall! You were finished!”

  Samye said nothing at first.

  His eyes were different now.

  Clear.

  Steady.

  “Do we continue?” Samye asked calmly.

  “Until one of us dies?”

  “Or do we withdraw… for now?”

  The enemy’s breathing grew heavy.

  He stepped back.

  Then—

  He started laughing.

  A deep, raw laugh.

  “I don’t know how you did it,” he admitted, clutching his ruined arm.

  “But today…”

  He looked directly at Samye.

  “You’ve earned your freedom.”

  His eyes narrowed.

  “But next time—”

  His smile returned.

  “I will crush you.”

  “Remember my name.”

  “Zack.”

  He straightened slightly despite the injury.

  “Zack — Welder of Magnetism.”

  The air around him distorted briefly as metal fragments from the battlefield lifted and spiraled around him.

  Then—

  He withdrew.

  Retreating into the burning outskirts of the village.

  Rain continued to fall.

  The battlefield quieted.

  Samye stood alone.

  Breathing steady.

  Not exhausted.

  Not trembling.

  For the first time—

  He didn’t feel chased by time.

  He felt aligned with it.

  But deep within—

  A quiet voice whispered.

  Good.

  Now let’s see how long you can hold it