Nothing goes according to plan.

Fatima stood face to face with Jirbad. The man was towering, with a presence that seemed to swallow everything around him. His size alone would intimidate anyone, but the young girl didn't flinch. Her posture was steady, her grip on her sword firm, as though the enormous figure before her was nothing more than an obstacle she was determined to remove.

Jirbad looked at her, the slightest hint of surprise flickering in his eyes. Summoning a new sword from his space ring, he was clearly intent on chasing down Kin. The prince had caused him far more trouble than anticipated, and the boy had to pay for it.

Fatima drew her sword, a slender-handled backsword, and positioned herself to fight. Without a word, Jirbad spread his wings wide, launching himself into the sky. He wasn't here to entertain Fatima's efforts; his goal was Kin. However, Fatima anticipated the move. She channeled energy into her legs and leaped into the air with unnatural speed, meeting Jirbad mid-flight. Her sword slashed toward him, forcing him to block.

Jirbad's eyes widened slightly. "You can fly?" he muttered. "Heaven's tread..."

Fatima smirked, kicking off the air once more to change her direction, darting back toward him. She swung her sword again, and though Jirbad dodged, his expression shifted from arrogance to frustration.

"Little brat," Jirbad growled. "You think you can match me in the air? This is my domain." His wings beat with tremendous force, propelling him forward faster than Fatima could respond. With a single powerful kick, he sent her plummeting toward the ground. Fatima crashed into the earth with a painful thud.

"Come back when you've grown stronger," Jirbad sneered, adjusting his wings and preparing to pursue Kin once again. He barely moved, though, before something on his legs made a faint noise—a small, almost imperceptible ring. A moment later, an explosion erupted, engulfing Jirbad in midair and sending him crashing to the ground, his body covered in fresh wounds.

Fatima pulled herself to her feet, her body aching from the impact of his earlier kick. Her smirk returned as she saw Jirbad lying on the ground. "It worked."

Jirbad groaned, realizing what had happened. She'd planted explosives during their last exchange. Cursing under his breath, he spread his wings once more. Using the eyes embedded in his wings, he began healing his wounds. Several of the eyes closed after their task was done, leaving him with fewer open.

Fatima, though shaken, wasn't about to let him recover without another fight. She could barely stand, her body trembling from the effort, but she wasn't about to back down. Her eyes flickered with determination as she watched Jirbad approach.

Jirbad, seeing that the girl was still standing, finally gave her his full attention. The realization dawned on him that this was no ordinary fighter. While he clearly outclassed her in raw strength, she had something far more dangerous: cunning. She wasn't trying to win the battle; she was stalling him. And he had played right into her hands.

With a sneer, he summoned his saber—a large, menacing blade that seemed to reflect the light menacingly. Fatima raised her backsword, bracing herself for the inevitable confrontation. She knew her odds of survival were slim, but if she could buy Kin enough time to escape, it would be worth it.

Jirbad attacked first, closing the distance between them in an instant. His saber sliced through the air, but Fatima managed to sidestep, narrowly avoiding the blow. The ground where she had stood moments ago shattered under the force of his attack. She gasped, struggling to find her balance, but there was no time to rest. Jirbad was relentless.

"You're fast, just like a damn Caniris," Jirbad muttered, a hint of respect in his voice.

"And you move like a mountain," Fatima shot back, breathing heavily.

Jirbad's eyes narrowed, and he didn't hold back this time. His speed increased, closing in on Fatima with terrifying precision. As he approached, though, something held him in place—his body froze mid-step. His eyes darted around in confusion.

Fatima smiled. It was a temporary trick, but it had worked. She knew she had only moments before he broke free, so she took her chance. She brandished her sword and lunged forward, yelling out the name of her attack, "Fourth Sword: Heavenly Drill!" Her blade pierced Jirbad's chest with a resounding thud, sending him staggering back.

For a brief moment, Fatima felt hope. But she knew better than to think the fight was over. Sure enough, Jirbad straightened himself, brushing off the attack as if it were nothing more than a scratch. His wounds healed rapidly, the eyes on his wings sealing shut one by one as they completed their task.

"You're a clever girl," Jirbad admitted, his voice steady. "But trickery only works against the weak. In the face of real strength, your tactics are useless."

He raised his saber, ready to bring it down and end Fatima's life. Just as his sword neared her, a voice echoed through the air—deep, chilling, and filled with menace.

"Jirbad you big fool, are you bullying little girls now?"

Jirbad froze. His instincts screamed at him to move. He leaped back, landing several meters away from Fatima, but something was wrong. He felt off-balance. It was only then that he realized one of his wings was missing. Blood dripped from his side, the severed wing lying on the ground behind him.

His eyes darted around until they landed on the source of the voice—a tanned man holding the missing wing. Jirbad's heart skipped a beat. There were monsters in this world, but few could strike fear even into a god-Sword. This man was one of them.

Farouk, his eyes cold and hollow, stared at Jirbad with a calm that only heightened the tension. Even after all these years, Farouk's mere presence could bring a seasoned warrior to their knees.

Jirbad suppressed a shiver. He knew, without a doubt, that there was no fight to be won here.