He moved first.

  The gauntlet on his right hand let out a low, hungry hum—

  and for a moment, the air itself seemed to recoil.

  Grandpa took his stance.

  No weapon.

  No shield.

  Just his body.

  I'd seen that posture a hundred times in the backyard.

  The voice that tolerated no excuses echoed in my memory.

  I crouched behind the stone boundary wall.

  Two, maybe three steps away was the shed.

  I didn’t need to look to know the axe was still buried in the log.

  I moved quietly.

  One step.

  Another.

  I was going to grab it.

  I was going to leap out.

  And then—

  The door opened.

  She came out.

  No hesitation.

  No fear.

  Just a decisive, unavoidable step forward.

  The hooded man saw her too.

  And he smiled.

  「…Lucky me. Saves me the trouble of hunting you down.」

  She raised both hands, instantly taking a stance.

  I felt it—

  her attempt to gather mana.

  The air trembled for half a heartbeat.

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  But—

  Nothing happened.

  No magic circle.

  No glow.

  She frowned and tried again.

  Still—

  nothing.

  He laughed, lips twisting.

  「That’s it?」

  「Heard you blew up a whole tower in one shot, and now you can’t spark so much as a firefly.」

  He leaned forward slightly, relishing the moment.

  「Ah, right. I forgot. You can’t use catalysts.

  Everything you touch breaks, isn’t that how the story goes?」

  She didn’t answer.

  Instead, she grabbed the bucket of water beside the door and hurled it at him.

  It splashed across his back with a heavy slap.

  It wouldn’t kill him.

  But it was enough to break his focus.

  「Pathetic.」

  He spat the word—but Grandpa was already moving.

  He closed the distance low and fast.

  A punch.

  Straight to the torso.

  The man’s body snapped back, rolled across the dirt, but he was on his feet again in an instant.

  He slid his fingers across the gauntlet’s core.

  A thick, metallic thrum vibrated through the air.

  「Let’s see how long you last, old man.」

  「The new Spelarita toys aren’t for training anymore.」

  He stomped.

  A single step split the dirt.

  Then he lunged.

  Grandpa dodged the first strike.

  But the second—

  though he blocked it, he couldn’t redirect it fully.

  And the third—

  Not a blade.

  A fist.

  But sharp and fast as a cut.

  A crack.

  The blow hit his side.

  Blood burst outward.

  Grandpa didn’t fall.

  But he wouldn’t last long.

  And in that instant—

  We both moved.

  Her.

  And me.

  At the same time.

  Without thinking.

  Without planning.

  Just knowing, with total certainty, that

  we were out of time.