The Broken Paths

Emery barely heard them. His grip tightened around his revolver.

I calculated everything. I accounted for Qi reinforcement. But this?

His mind raced, grasping for an explanation, but nothing fit.

Across from him, Zafira smirked. "Told you I'd be fine."

The fight wasn't over. But something told Emery—he had already lost.

Zafira exhaled slowly, rolling her shoulders as the vibrations from the gunshot faded into the night. She could still feel the slight recoil in her wrists, the heat of the bullet's trajectory slicing against the air just before her blade severed it.

How did I do that?

She hadn't thought about cutting the bullet. She had just done it. Her body had moved before her mind registered the danger, before logic could tell her it was impossible.

But was it impossible? Or had she simply reached a level where instinct overrode reality?

Qi had always been described as an extension of the body, an amplification of what already existed within. But to move fast enough to intercept a bullet—to predict the bullet—that wasn't just speed. That was something else.

Her fingers tightened around the hilts of her swords.

I didn't see the bullet. I felt it. Like the air itself was speaking to me.

She recalled the hours, the years spent honing her swordplay—faster, sharper, deadlier. To outsiders, it was just strength, just skill. But to her, it was calculation at the speed of instinct.

She had trained her body to read movement, to react before an attack even happened. In duels, she could predict an opponent's next step based on the way their muscles tensed, the way their breath hitched, the way the ground beneath them shifted.

Was this any different?

Her opponent wasn't a swordsman. Her opponent was a weapon—an unfeeling machine firing at speeds no human should be able to counter. But she had countered it.

Not by chasing the bullet.

By feeling its intent before it was even fired.

She breathed in. This is what I have become.

Emery gritted his teeth, forcing himself to focus. That had to be a mix of luck and skill. No one can consistently do that.

He adjusted his stance, recalculating.

If she could cut a bullet once, that doesn't mean she could do it again. But if she could...

His gun snapped up, three shots fired in rapid succession. Each one was calculated based on her first reaction, testing her limits, pushing her reflexes.

And yet—

She either dodged entirely or parried the bullets with her swords.

The first shot—she sidestepped cleanly, her movements so fluid it was like she had known where the bullet would land before he even pulled the trigger.

The second—she twisted her blade in a tight arc, striking the bullet at just the right angle to deflect it harmlessly into the floor.

The third—a flash of silver, a clean slice. The bullet was cut in half again.

Emery's heart pounded.

Impossible. Even with Qi reinforcement, this reaction time shouldn't be feasible.

Zafira landed softly, rolling her shoulders. "You're thinking too much, scientist. You always do."

Emery's grip tightened around his revolver.

She wasn't just reacting. She was predicting.

He had gone into this fight expecting to test science against Qi. Expecting to prove that calculated precision would always overcome brute force.

Instead, he was staring at someone who was adapting faster than his equations could keep up.

Zafira smirked, raising her swords again. "Come on, Emery. Keep up."

His hazel eyes sharpened. Then I'll make sure she does exactly what I need her to do.

His gun snapped up—but this time, he accounted for everything.

The exact angle of her dodge. The split-second window of her parry. The minuscule delay between her reactions.

Fire.

The bullet left the chamber, spiraling toward her in a perfect arc. As expected—Zafira moved.

She twisted, sword flashing, prepared to deflect it like before—

But this time, Emery had already fired a second shot. He calculated the microseconds of movement and adjustments of what Zafira would do. He predicted this scenario, running a simulation in his head. He was moving his brain with calculations faster than his mental state allows him.

And this time—it hit.

The impact struck her shoulder, and for a split second, the sound of metal and flesh rupturing was drowned out by something far greater—a concussive shockwave exploded from the point of impact.

The arena floor cracked beneath them, deep fractures spider-webbing outward. The cold wind that had been pressing against them was suddenly redirected, blasting outward into the audience. Spectators shielded their faces as dust and icy air surged through the stands, momentarily blinding them.

And when it settled—

Zafira stood still, blood dripping from her shoulder. Her defense had been shattered.

Emery staggered, blood dripping from his nose. His entire body screamed in protest—the mental strain of his calculations, the recoil from his shot, the sheer exertion his scrawny frame wasn't built to endure.

But he didn't fall yet. He met Zafira's gaze and managed a smirk. "Told you."

The crowd was silent for a moment. Then—

The entire arena erupted.

"HOLY SHIT!"

"Commander Ezra actually took a hit!"

"Did you SEE that shot?!"

Callum, who had been in utter disbelief the entire fight, finally found his voice. "WHAT DID I JUST WATCH?!"

Chen and Feng were pale, looking like they had just witnessed reality collapse. "That's not… that's not possible. Qi shouldn't lose to science like that… should it?"

Lianfei, still gripping her notes from her studies under Emery, muttered under his breath. "He didn't just shoot randomly. He accounted for EVERYTHING. He… planned that entire sequence."

Jun crossed her arms, her sharp assassin's eyes narrowing. "That level of prediction isn't normal. Even for someone like him."

Seraphine, usually composed, actually blinked in shock. "I've seen many fights, but I've never seen someone force Zafira into a position she couldn't immediately counter."

Meanwhile, Haoran and Renshu—who had spent years honing their martial skills—looked genuinely unsettled.

Haoran swallowed hard. "He made Qi look… vulnerable."

Renshu nodded slowly. "That wasn't luck. That wasn't a fluke. He PROVED it. Qi can be fought with his science."

Zafira, still standing despite her injury, walked toward Emery. She glanced down at her bleeding arm, then back up at him with something unreadable in her expression.

She reached out, lightly flicking his forehead. "You look like you're about to fall over."

Emery wiped the blood from his nose, his smirk not fading. "And yet, I still managed to do it."

He took a slow, deep breath. Saying with pure confidence to her.

"Qi can be fought with science. You're just stupidly strong."

Then, it hit him.

His knees buckled, his body finally giving in to the overwhelming strain of his calculations, simulations and predictions. He is a genius and inventor by all accounts but the sheer exertion of moving in ways his untrained frame wasn't meant to. The mental strain from calculating far into the future was something most human couldn't do at a perfect level. His vision blurred, and before he could process it—

Darkness.

Zafira's eyes widened just slightly before she moved, catching him effortlessly before he could collapse to the ground. "Tch" she clicked her tongue, shaking her head.

"Idiot."

She looked over her shoulder, sharp eyes landing on Jun. "Get the medical supplies. Now."

Jun, still visibly stunned by the fight, blinked before quickly nodding and disappearing to fetch them.

The crowd's deafening cheers slowly morphed into murmurs, a wave of awe and confusion sweeping through the arena. Their Commander vs. their Second-in-Command. And somehow, the one who had forced the decisive moment wasn't Zafira.

"Did that really just happen?"

"Commander Ezra... lost? No, wait—did she really lose?"

"But she was still standing... but he... he broke her defenses..."

Seraphine, arms crossed, exhaled deeply, still processing what she had witnessed. "That wasn't just a fight. That was a statement."

Callum ran a hand through his hair, still looking completely baffled. "I don't even know what I just watched."

Chen and Feng exchanged uncertain looks, their scientific minds struggling to process what had unfolded. "Science actually worked. But how far can it go?"

Lianfei scribbled furiously in her notes, muttering, "He pushed himself beyond his limits. But was it enough? If he had her training and body... then what?"

Haoran and Renshu, both martial artists through and through, could only stare in silent contemplation. Haoran clenched his fists. "He fought against Qi itself. And he didn't die. That means—"

Renshu finished the thought, voice hushed. "That means the world knew is about to change."