Seris shut the documents and kept her hand on them for a moment, like she was making sure it wouldn’t slide open again on its own. Raizō watched her face. He didn’t see panic. He didn’t see confusion. He saw her forcing herself to stay in the present. Rylan leaned against the wall like they had all the time in the world. He kept his voice light, but his eyes were working, checking the corridor and the doorway they’d come through. Seris finally lifted her gaze.

  “This matters,” she said. “Just not right now. The rest is still in the archive.”

  Rylan smiled. “Good thing I’m here. This should be much easier.”

  No one answered him. Seris turned back toward the storage room. It was cramped and packed with old supplies, spare gear, and the kind of things the Church didn’t mind leaving out of sight. She moved with purpose, like she already knew what she was looking for. A rack of weapons sat along the far wall. Most of it was basic, meant for Order Knights and guards. Nothing ornate. Nothing ceremonial. Just tools. Seris reached out and took a sword from the rack. She tested the weight with a small shift of her wrist. The blade wasn’t perfect, but it was balanced enough. She didn’t say anything about it. She just took it and stepped back toward the corridor.

  Rylan glanced at the sword and then at her. “That looks good on you.”

  Seris didn’t react. Raizō didn’t either. He only noted how natural the motion was, like her hand had been waiting for something solid to hold. They moved out of the storage room in a tight line, Raizō slightly behind Seris, Rylan drifting to the side with the lazy confidence of someone who didn’t look worried until he decided it was time to worry. The corridor beyond was quiet at first. The torchlight was steady. The stonework here was clean, older than the storage rooms. It felt like part of the Church that was meant to be seen, not hidden. They didn’t make it far. Bootsteps sounded ahead, not rushed, but steady. Metal shifted. Shields bumped softly in formation. Order Knights appeared at the far end of the corridor, organized, tight, shields forward. Spears were set behind them. Raizō saw the way the corridor was shaped. He saw how the Knights had taken the width of it and turned it into a wall. He began to step forward. Seris moved first. She simply ran towards them, sword down at her side, calm enough that it almost looked careless.

  Rylan watched her for a beat and then smiled like he’d just been handed something entertaining. “Oh, look at her.”

  The Knights didn’t speak either. One of them raised his shield slightly, a small signal. Then they advanced. Seris didn’t wait for them to close fully. She stepped in and the first thing Raizō noticed was that she didn’t charge straight at the shields. She slipped to the side, like she was stepping around furniture in a room she knew well. Her feet were light. Her shoulders stayed relaxed. The sword didn’t swing in wide arcs. It stayed close to her body. A spear thrust came for her chest. She turned her hips and let the tip pass just outside her shoulder. The movement was small, but it put her exactly where she needed to be. Her blade snapped out once and cut the spear shaft near the hands. Not deep, not dramatic, just enough that the spear jerked and lost line. The Knight holding it flinched and his grip opened. Seris was already gone.

  She moved into the gap between the shield and the next Knight, not forcing her way through, but sliding into the space as if it had been left for her. The front Knight tried to shove his shield into her to knock her back. Seris didn’t meet the shield. She stepped with it, stayed close, and let the shove carry past her. Her sword hand lifted and cut across the wrist behind the shield. The Knight’s fingers tightened on instinct, then failed, and the shield dipped. The formation cracked instantly.

  Another spear came in low, meant to catch her legs. Seris hopped back half a step, not a full retreat, just enough to let it miss. Her feet landed soft. She pivoted and used the opening to step into the spearman’s space. She tapped the flat of the blade against the side of his head and then slid past him before he could turn. The Knight staggered, disoriented, and the line behind him hesitated for a fraction of a second. That hesitation was all she needed. Seris moved again. She didn’t pause to admire what she’d done. She didn’t look for confirmation. She flowed into the next opponent, blade close, steps quick, body quiet. A Knight swung at her with his sword, aiming for her shoulder. She leaned back just enough to let it pass, then stepped forward under his arm and struck his elbow. The sword slipped from his grip. Her next motion was a short cut across the strap of a shield. The strap snapped. The shield dropped to the floor with a loud clang. The sound echoed. Knights relied on formation. She kept cutting the formation apart without fighting it head-on.

  Raizō had seen skilled fighters before. He’d seen discipline. He’d seen speed. This was different. It was smooth, fast without looking rushed. It was like she was never surprised by anything they did. Rylan hadn’t moved yet. He was watching too.

  The Knights tried to recover. Two stepped forward together, shields tight, spears ready behind them. They tried to lock her in and force her to choose a direction. She stepped inside the shields, close enough that the spears behind them couldn’t reach without hitting their own men. Her sword hand stayed near her chest. She struck once, a short motion that opened a gap. Then she turned her shoulder and slid out the other side before either shield could pin her. A spear jabbed for her back. She twisted and cut the spearhead’s line away, not with strength, but with timing. The tip skated off her blade and hit stone.

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  The spearman’s arm extended too far. Seris stepped in and struck his forearm. The spear dropped. In less than a minute, the corridor was full of broken formation. Knights were stumbling, disarmed, or forced to step back so they didn’t collide with each other. Seris stood in front of them, sword low again, breathing steady. Raizō realized he still hadn’t thrown a punch. Rylan had done nothing at all.

  Rylan whistled once, slow and impressed. “Well,” he said, drawing the word out, “I think I’m falling in love.”

  Seris didn’t look at him. “Focus.”

  Rylan’s grin widened. “I am.”

  Raizō stayed quiet, but his attention narrowed. He didn’t just watch her blade. He watched her feet. He watched how she shifted her weight. She wasn’t fighting like an Order Knight or the rigid Church forms she had once taught them. She wasn’t bracing behind power or cutting in heavy arcs. She was moving like the sword was lighter than it was. Her steps were quick and close together. Her shoulders stayed loose. Her blade moved in short, precise lines instead of wide swings. It looked less like battlefield training and more like a duel. Like she was dancing around them instead of meeting them head-on. The sword in her hand wasn’t a rapier, but she used it like one. Quick entries, fast recoveries, and smooth exits. She slipped in, touched, and left before they could adjust. There was no weight behind her strikes, only timing and extreme precision. And it was enough.

  The Knights tried one last push. Two of them stepped forward together, hoping numbers would make her slow down. Seris stepped toward them first. One raised his shield high to block a cut. Seris didn’t cut. She struck the shield edge with the flat of her blade, not to break it, but to tilt it, and then she stepped into the opening it created. Her shoulder brushed the Knight’s chest. The closeness stole his leverage. She tapped the side of his helmet and moved past him as he stumbled. The second Knight tried to take her from the side. Seris turned with him and cut his belt strap. His sword sheath slipped, caught his leg, and he tripped over his own gear. Seris didn’t finish him. She didn’t need to. The corridor opened again. The Knights had been dismantled.

  Rylan stepped forward at last, hands still relaxed. He leaned closer to Seris like he wanted to get a better look at her, then looked down the corridor like it was nothing.

  “You sure you need us?” he asked.

  Seris didn’t look back. “What are you talking about? Of course I do.”

  Rylan sighed like he was disappointed. “Shame.”

  They moved again, faster now, using the open corridor. Seris stayed in front, sword in hand, steps quick and controlled. Raizō followed, quiet and watchful. Rylan drifted beside them, still casual, but his eyes checked every doorway they passed. They reached another long stretch of corridor and for a moment there were no footsteps behind them. No voices ahead. Only the sound of their boots and the soft scrape of Seris’ sword guard against her hand as she adjusted her grip.

  Rylan glanced at her again. “Didn’t you used to have a shield?”

  Seris didn’t answer right away. Her eyes stayed forward. Rylan didn’t push it like he was making a serious point. He said it the way someone says something they noticed, then moves on.

  “That doesn’t look like standard knight training.” he added.

  Seris finally spoke, still not looking at him. “I learned what worked.”

  Raizō watched her posture as they ran. He could see it even outside a fight. The narrow stance. The way her shoulders stayed ready to turn. The way she moved like she expected pressure from one side at any moment. She didn’t realize it. Or if she did, she wasn’t letting herself admit it. They turned a corner. A new group of Order Knights was already there, forming up faster than the last. Seris didn’t slow down. She stepped forward again, and the same thing happened. Spears came out and shields tried to box her in. She slid around them effortlessly, braking their formation again. She cut straps, wrists, and weapon lines, forcing them to lose control without needing to cut deep. This was too natural for her. Raizō began to remember something Kaelin had said to her.

  Sword and shield isn’t your first discipline.

  Raizō stayed behind her, ready to step in, but he didn’t need to. Rylan didn’t need to either. It wasn’t that the Knights were weak. It was that Seris was operating on a level that made their training look slow. They cleared the corridor again. They moved on. As they got closer to the archive, the air changed. It happened in the middle of a step. The corridor simply felt tighter than it should have, like the space had shrunk around them. Seris stopped. A bead of sweat ran down the side of her face. Her grip tightened around the sword. Raizō felt it too, but he kept his expression still. He knew this kind of presence. He’d felt it before, even if only for a moment. He’d felt what it did to the body and the mind. Rylan’s smile faded. Not fully, but enough that his face looked different, like the joking part of him had stepped back. Seris swallowed and spoke quietly, like she didn’t want to waste breath.

  “I remember this pressure,” she said. “It’s him. He’s coming.”

  Raizō didn’t ask who. He already knew. The pressure didn’t surge as it approached. It didn’t flare. It didn’t announce itself. It stayed steady and oppressive, slowing them down. It was like it had been there the whole time and they had only just stepped into it. Footsteps echoed from the far end of the corridor, slow, even, unhurried. An armored figure stepped into view. His distinct from the rest. The Paladin-Legate. He simply arrived, and the corridor belonged to him.